John Table

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

<Snipped quote by Sep>

And these days, finally, I am more and more forgiving of Constantine starring Keanu Reeves, and feel more and more that despite mis-casting Reeves (who performs as admirably as I feel he was capable of at the time), and the obvious mistake of transplanting the character to the US, it's actually a decently-written Constantine story that hits good pillars and themes of the character and despite Reeves not being right for John, the rest of the cast makes up for it and Reeves is at least watchable.

@Roman

For sure one of my favorite supernatural movies and a really fanatics supernatural thriller. But as an adaption of Hellblazer it’s kinda meh

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

What's everyones favourite Superhero film?

@Sep

The Conjuring 2.

I will not elaborate further.

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

IN DREAMS
CHAPTER 4

New York City
1991

“Wes?... Wes? You listening?”

Wesley Dodds looked up from his coffee at Sandy. The two were at a diner not far from Wesley’s apartment in Lenox Hill. In the six months since Dian’s death they’d met for breakfast about once a week. It was ostensibly to give Wesley some much needed company and he was grateful for the time spent catching up with his nephew and former sidekick. They sort of lost touch over the years. They might see one another once every six months and at holidays, but that was it. But the more time Wesley spent with Sandy the more he realized the man he had become wasn’t necessarily someone Wesley… really liked. He talked about nothing but money non-stop and how well he was doing and how he and Frankie screwed like rabbits still after nearly twenty years of marriage. In a lot of ways Sandy was still that little boy on the rooftops with Wes. He hadn't grown up or past the so-called "glory days." Wes also sensed Sandy had some ulterior motive lurking in the back of their meetings. He just hadn't brought it out.

“Sorry… I was just lost in thought.”

“I’m telling you, Wes, these conventions I attend are where it’s at.”

Sandy put his fork down on the now empty plate and gestured towards Wesley with his hands.

“There’s a big demand for the old heroes like us. People are paying twenty bucks a pop for a signed autograph, more for some goofy photo wit you. You remember Bulletman? He wears that silly helmet and poses with people, sixty dollars a piece. It’s a great way to make money and to get you out of the house. The first Sandman was one of the original masked men, you got fans out there who want to see you, Wes…”

Sandy looked around to make sure there was nobody eavesdropping before he whispered.

“And the women… don’t get me started on the women.”

Wesley put a hand on his forehead and sighed as he rubbed his face.

“You Aunt Dian has been dead less than a year. And aren't you and Frankie happily married?”

“You were together fifty years,” Sandy said softly. “You could use some strange… I know I do from time to time.”

“Okay, I’m done.”

Wesley put some money on the table for the tab and began to leave. Sandy grabbed his arm, but Wesley shook it off as he left the diner and stepped out into the New York morning. Fall was just beginning to settle in here in mid-September. Wesley could feel tears forming in his eyes. He tried to blink them away.

“Uncle Wes,” Sandy said as he came out. “What’s wrong?”

Wesley could feel months of repressed feelings sitting on his chest: His anger at Dian’s passing, his misery at watching her slowly waste away from breast cancer, all the empty words of condolences from friends and family, his guilt over outliving her, and now his newfound anger at Sandy and… whatever the hell this fat, greedy man in front of him had done to his nephew.

“Do you know why I became the Sandman?” Wesley asked softly. “Not for the money, or the recognition, or for the p-p-pussy.” Sandy looked as if Wesley had started speaking in tongues. Later, Wesley would look back and realize it was the first time he had ever used any kind of profanity around Sandy in a fifty year friendship.

“I did it because of the dreams,” he said, tears now running down his face. “They used to haunt my every sleeping moment, Sandy, and I lived out the dreams and did what I did to help people, to save people who would have died if I hadn’t intervened. I’m not some little worm who rode someone’s coattails like you. That whole sad little apartment with all that junk? That’s because of me and what I did. Your sad little crumb of celebrity? It’s because of me. You’re the second Sandman, you would be nothing -- nothing! -- if not for your aunt and myself. And you just toss her memory aside like that? Like she's just... some fucking wad of gum you're done chewing? You know what you need to toss? All that bullshit that’s cluttering your apartment. Take all those memories of a life that was never truly yours to start with and throw it away. Because I don't want it, and you sure as hell haven't earned any of it. Fuck you, Sandy.”

Wesley turned away and stormed off as fast as he could. The outburst had been so sudden and without warning Sandy had just stood there in shock. Wesley had seen the hurt in Sandy’s eyes as the words flew from his mouth. He’d broken something in his nephew’s heart. Good, Wesley had thought at the time. Let him see how it feels. Let him see how he likes when the one thing he cherishes most in this world is ripped away from him. Neither man knew it, but it would be the last time they would see each other alive. Wesley Dodd’s last words to his nephew, sidekick, and successor -- the closest thing he ever had to a son -- was “Fuck you, Sandy.”

---

Brooklyn
Now

Wesley stood on the edge of the sidewalk and craned his neck high to see just how large the U-Store-It facility actually was. It looked to be seventeen stories by his own estimation. The Red Hook address was listed several times in Sandy’s computer and among his email correspondence as a meeting spot. Wesley tried to use one of his many maps of New York to find out what was there, but he quickly realized his last updated map of the city was from 1988. The city had changed so much in that time. He’d used Sandy’s laptop to do an internet search and found a garish neon orange tinted sight that advertised U-Store-It’s premier Brooklyn facility, one of the largest ones among the company’s 8,000 locations across the country.

The lobby of the facility contained broken down boxes for sale along with plenty of other packing supplies for sale and carts for rent. A bored looking clerk sat behind a desk and clacked on computer keys. He barely gave Wesley a passing glance as he approached the desk.

“Yes, sir?”

Wesley had his driver’s license out. His still valid driver’s license. He'd just gotten it renewed two years ago and it was due to be renewed in 2025 when he would be… 117.

“Can you tell me which unit here is registered under Wesley Dodds.”

It was Sandy’s idea of a clever joke, thought Wesley. He’d discovered the registration information and keys to the storage unit inside a packet in Sandy’s nightstand. The nightstand was locked. but the lock was far easier than the one that kept the front door secured. It took Wesley all of thirty seconds to pop it open.

The clerk tapped on a few more keys and squinted at the screen.

“Looks like… you’re listed as owner or authorized user on all the units on the seventeenth floor. All sixteen 10x30’s.”

“To the seventeenth floor it is.”

Wesley rode the large freight elevator up to the top, because he had been right and that was as high as the building went, with a sense of foreboding. Sixteen 10x30s? That was a lot of space. What exactly was Sandy storing in all of those units? And he had found only one key. He hoped he could get into at least one of the units up on seventeen. The door slid open and he stepped out into a well lit concrete hallway with eight metal roll-up doors on both sides going down the corridor. Cylinder locks kept each door secure. Wesley stepped to the first lock and tried the key. They key undid the small lock and popped it out of the socket on the door. He put it back in place and went to the next door. It also unlocked that door. He went down the hallway and found that each lock worked for the key.

“Master key,” he said to himself.

A quick scan of the floor revealed no cameras. The facility advertised itself as being open 24/7 and with security cameras. That must have just been for the building’s access points… or cameras were exempt from seeing what went on up here. Wesley went back to the first lock and undid it. He let the heavy little nub fall into his pocket before rolling the door open.

The space was mainly empty. He saw scattered carboard boxes scattered around the floor. What drew his eye was the bed in the center of the room. A fairly cheap queen-sized bedframe with a mattress that looked to be urine stained. He walked closer and stopped. The stains on the mattress were too dark for urine. He got close enough to confirm that it was indeed bloodstains on the mattress before he crouched. Wesley cursed as his knees popped like gunshots when he bent down. There were straps tucked underneath the bedframe that perfectly aligned with each limb on a human body when it was spread-eagle on the bed. He stood up, more knee pops, and started to examine the boxes. In one he found whips, chains, and a variety of sex toys. Some of the toys were so elaborate he couldn’t even really work out how they functioned… but he could give it his best guess.

It was more of the same in just about every other box except one. In that one he found masks. There was a leather gimp mask, a domino mask, and… other masks that were more specific. A cat mask that was a poor imitation of Wildcat’s, a helmet meant to be Bulletman’s pointy helmet, and…

A gasmask. Not of the same quality as the one his father had taken to war. But still… a gasmask just like the one the Sandman had worn. Wesley felt sweat on his forehead. He wiped it off and quickly retreated. He locked the unit and began to move on to the others. They were each replicas of the first. Same shoddy beds, the rest carrying a variety of bodily fluid stains, same toys, and almost the same collection of masks.

“Find what you needed?” the clerk asked once Wesley was back down in the lobby. He furrowed his brow when he saw the flushed look on Wesley’s face. “Do you need something to drink? Have a seat?”

“I’m fine,” said Wesley. “I do have just one more question. Those units I’m registered for… who else has their names on them?”

“Let’s see…”

Another quick computer search resulted in five names along with his own.

“Well besides you there’s an… Alan Scott, Ted Grant, Rex Tyler,, Terry Sloane, and Dinah Drake.”

“Thank you,” Wesley managed to say. “That’s… that’s all I needed.”

He licked his dry lips and started back out of the facility with his hands in his pockets. A picture was beginning to form on what kind of life Sandy was living up until the time of his murder. He couldn’t quite get it into focus. For that… he would need help.

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

White House Press Briefing Room

The gathered members of the White House press corps checked their phones and watches yet again as they waited for the press secretary. He was late. Very late. What was supposed to be a 9AM daily briefing had been delayed until now it was 9:45 and here they were, still waiting.

“I’m here, folks!” Jimmy Olsen announced.

He walked up to the podium and adjusted his bowtie.

“Sorry about that I was just… _{what’s something normal government people do?} Yes, I was... crunching some numbers, yeah. With the budget department. That's it. Let’s get started, shall we?”

Hands across the room shot up. Most every reputable news outlet had a seat reserved in the briefing room. The big networks and newspapers got prime real estate up front, and the further back it went the smaller and stranger the publications got. Jimmy believed Tiger Beat and Canoe Builders Quarterly shared the last seat in the back.

“Okay, Brenda from… GNN I think...?”

“Does President Ellis truly hate America? WHEN WE WILL LEARN ABOUT HIS MARXIST SOVIET MAOIST AGENDA?!”

“No, you’re from the “Calvin ‘Mussolini’ Ellis is A Communist” youtube channel… how do you keep getting here? Someone get her outta here -- Next! Snapper Carr, yeah you’re GNN.”

A man in a checkered blazer stood and tried to talk over the noise of Secret Service agents escorting Brenda from the room as she shouted "pogrom" over and over again.

“Jimmy, any updates on President Ellis’ Supreme Court nomination?”

“He’s meeting with senators today to hear out their concerns and get their advice. I’m sure he will announce his choice soon. This is something the administration wants to take its time with. Guys like us come and go, Snap, Supreme Court Justices are here to stay. We want to make sure we have the best jurist who represents this current administration, and one who can be a future ally to forthcoming presidents. Who else? Umm… Hey, Cat Grant Daily Planet, now I know that face.”

Jimmy licked his fingers and rubbed his eyebrows with the now wet fingers. He made a face as he realized his hands were still covered in chalk.

“Sup?”

“You’re still Superman’s pal, right?”

“Of course,” said Jimmy.

He realized he hadn’t been around the big blue in quite a while. Their last outing was… last year? Yeah, that was it. An alien named Vostar gave Jimmy a literal Midas touch for seemingly no reason. It was cool and all… until Jimmy realized he couldn’t eat gold food… or drink water as soon as it turned solid gold. And the ladies? Oh, boy... that was a weird night. Luckily Superman helped him out thanks to a quick trip to Ft. Superman, and an even quicker battle of wits with Vostar. That was last fall just before the election kicked into high gear. This stretch had been the longest Jimmy had gone without interacting with Superman since, well since Jimmy had gotten his start as an intern at the Planet.

“Your pal just tore up the Baltimore city harbor fighting the Atomic Skull,” said Grant.” Care to comment?”

“He has a pretty strong right jab,” replied Jimmy. “It’s been known to level supervillains and buildings alike.”

Jimmy’s flippant mood evaporated when he saw Cat’s annoyed look.

“Twenty people went to the hospital,” she said. “I don’t think it’s a joking matter, Jimmy.”

“And how many went to the morgue, Cat?” Jimmy shot back. “None? That’s because of Superman. Property can be fixed, buildings renovated. But human life can’t be replaced.”

“What’s the administration’s stance on Superman being an unregistered superhuman?”

“You seem to have a theme today, Cat,” Jimmy said with a chuckle. He noticed nobody else in the room laughed. He cleared his throat. “Umm… so. Superman is not registered, true, but the VRA is a UN resolution the federal government has yet to formally adopt. But I will say this: fifteen years of unimpeachable service to this planet, let alone this nation, had kinda bought the guy some slack. That's all I'll say about that. Next? You in the back.”

“Jamie Nelson, Tiger Beat. If… the administration was a boy band, who would be the heartthrob, who would be the bad boy, who would be the cute one, who would be the shy one, and who would be the older brother?”

“I’ll take the third part first.”

Jimmy put his elbows on the podium and put his face in his hands.

“Well, the cute one, that would obviously be me that's an easy question. Bad boy? Well that has to be the SecDef. He’s a bit rough around the edges, a lifelong career as a Marine will make you a badass by default, don't look him in the eye if you can help it. Now when you get to the shy one that brings up a real issue---”

---

The Roosevelt Room

Calvin, Pete, and Attorney General Irons had a working lunch with members of the Senate Judiciary Committee to discuss Calvin’s upcoming Supreme Court nomination. At Calvin’s orders White House staff prepared a simple lunch of cold cuts and potato chips. His predecessor was big on flaunting the grand opulence of the office and never passed up an opportunity to cater every meal with the finest, and most expensive, food possible. He wanted to go the other way with it. By the look on Senator Byrne's face Calvin's move gave them mixed feelings. And that was okay with him.

He’d been hailed by experts as one of the ultimate outsiders in American politics when he joined the 2020 race. They had no idea how right they were, he thought a the time. A journalist and political activist with zero practical political experience and zero party affiliation, Calvin Ellis had managed to connect with the apathetic American people and inspired something they hadn’t had in a long time: hope.

And that didn’t sit well with a lot of people in Washington, including some of the very senators here in the Roosevelt Room. They were all professional politicians with decades of public service under their belts. Many of them had presidential aspirations of their own. That was why Calvin and the rest of his inner circle had to be very careful with the advice they received from the senators here today. Who knew what angles they would be playing, where their allegiances truly aligned, and what they could gain by steering him in one particular direction.

“So we’re down to three,” Calvin said between sandwich bites. “All with pros and cons.”

“I like Judge Harrison,” said Senator Vance. “Almost twenty years on the federal appeals court and a very moderate track record.”

“He’s too old, though,” said John Henry Irons. “Judge Harrison will be seventy-three next year. We want a justice who will be a fixture on the court for a few decades and not just some short-term rental.”

“What do you think, Joe?” asked Calvin.

All eyes fell on Senator Joe Siegel. If Calvin had any sort of political inspiration, it would be the senior senator from Wisconsin. Siegel had fought the good fight for over forty years across various elected positions both at the state and federal level. He was as close to a principled politician as the world would ever see, to his detriment a lot of times. In a lot of ways he and Calvin were similar. They didn’t play the political game the way everyone else wanted them to. But it seemed to be working out for both of them. Siegel was now halfway through his third time in the Senate and recently elected minority leader. If the midterms were kind to his party he may end up majority leader. And if the Ellis administration could have a friendly majority leader that would go a long way to helping their agenda.

“Harrison is a safe pick,” said Siegel. “He’s your compromise candidate. Edge will let his nomination get out of committee, the vote will be mostly along party lines… but with Harrison’s moderate history you’ll have votes across the aisle and get him confirmed. Like AG Irons says, he’s a short-term justice though.”

“I like Justice Woods,” said Senator Byrnes. “He’s been chief justice of the Virginia Supreme Court for six years now. Relatively young for such a high position, in his mid-fifties. His past opinions indicate he’s an advocate of a Living Constitution.”

“I have a bad feeling about him,” said Pete Ross. “The Virginia court is technically an elected office. We did research into his early days as a judge and he was very much a strict originalist in his opinions, like Judge Hartwell was. I wonder if he gets into a lifetime position will he reveal his true colors?”

“My favorite is Judge Glastonberry,” said Calvin.

“Of course,” said Siegel. “The one that’ll be the most trouble to get through the Senate.”

“Should we list all the reasons,” asked Senator Vance. “There’s no way Morgan Edge will approve of a black woman from Oregon, a black woman with an appellate record so radical, it’s slightly to the left of Trotsky.”

“She’s the best candidate,” said Siegel. “But her confirmation hearing will be drawn out into something this town hasn’t seen in a long time. I can promise you, Mr. President, it will be a street fight played out across the halls of Congress. Edge will fight tooth and nail to see it go down in flames.”

“Yeah,” Calvin said with a grin. “But I like the idea of her on the court for the next twenty plus years.”

“This is where you make the decision, Mr. President,” said Irons. “Do we go practical, safe, realistic… or do we swung for the fences?”

Calvin looked over at Siegel. The two men shared a long look. There was something in the senators eyes, a mischievous twinkle that said it all. Calvin leaned back in his chair and put hands behind his head.

“Cal,” said Pete. “If you try to push Glastonberry through and Edge defeats it, it’ll bring your political capital down. You’ll have to retreat with your tail between your legs and offer up someone like Harrison as a consolation. It will hurt us for the rest of your term and beyond. When it comes to 2024, it’ll be one of the many things you can be attacked on.”

He barely heard Pete’s warning. His thoughts were on the earlier fight with Atomic Skull, and the night before as he flew around the world helping so many people in need. As Superman he could do anything he wanted. But as President Ellis? It seemed he was locked in to rules, structure, and playing the political game. He looked up at the ceiling and muttered something.

“What was that?” asked Senator Byrnes.

He looked back down at the group and smiled. “‘What the hell is the presidency for?’ It’s what LBJ said when he was told supporting Civil Rights might endanger his chances of reelection. We have this office, we have allies, and we have the people.”

Calvin stood up from his seat.

“We’ll worry about 2024 when it gets here. I want to do what I can to change the world right now. Let’s do what's right, street fights be damned.”

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

@AndyC

Pied Piper coming in like:

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

Almost thirty years later and it still slaps.

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

IN DREAMS
CHAPTER 3

New York
October, 1938

Captain Larry Belmont stepped into his apartment and slid off his coat. The smell of dinner cooking was just the thing he needed after a long hard day. Belmont shucked his blazer off and hung it up beside the coat. He walked through the apartment with his shoulder harness holster exposed.

“Daddy is that you?”

“It is,” said Belmont. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Belmont retreated to the small room that acted as his study. He removed the gun and holster before locking them in the bottom desk drawer. Satisfied it was secure, he stepped into the kitchen. Dian was there, working on her famous Beef Wellington. Her boyfriend was also joining them for dinner. Belmont wasn’t sure what to make of him even after two years of Dian going steady with him. His pudgy face and glasses meant he would never be anything close to handsome. He was kind of a dullard, and yet had such a dry sense of humor one remark could make Belmont laugh for hours.

And he was rich. That was a big tally mark in the pro category for Belmont. He may have been a bit boring and taciturn, but Dian loved him. And he treated her right. That was pretty much enough for Belmont. And with some of the more… questionable men she had dated before, boring old Wesley Dodds was a safe choice for a potential husband.

“Captain Belmont,” said Dodds.

The two men shook hands as Dian gave Belmont a kiss on the cheek.

“Please, Wes,” Belmont waved a dismissive hand towards him. “Don’t call me captain. Sir… or Mr. Belmont will do.”

“How was work, Daddy?”

“Tedious,” Belmont grunted.

He sat down at the kitchen table beside Dodds and started to unloosen the knot on his tie.

“Me and half the damn taskforce spent twelve hours combing the Upper West Side for potential murders. There’s plenty in this goddamn city. A murderer in New York? It’s like looking for the right needle in a stack of needles. It’s my fault for listening to some goddamn crazy kook in a gasmask!”

“The Sandman?”

Dodds leaned forward. Belmont noticed the interest in his eyes. Dian was also listening intently as she pretended to put the finishing touches on dinner. The two of them were something of true crime junkies, especially when it came to Belmont’s dealings with the Sandman. But then again they were a lot like most of New York. The whole masked man of mystery fad was sweeping the city. There was the Sandman, the Crimson Avenger, Hourman, and that guy who ran around dressed like a fucking bullet. Guess what his name was? Bunch of lunatics who sold papers like hotcakes. And Belmont would never admit it aloud, but the Sandman had helped him out on a few cases from time to time. At least one of them had a use.

“Yeah,” said Belmont. “The Sandman said he had some kinda dream--”

“Vision,” said Dodds.

Dodds cleared his throat when he saw the annoyed look on Belmont’s face. Dian just turned back to the stove to start plating dinner.

“Anyway,” said Belmont. “He said he saw in some kinda dream that this Tarantula guy would be caught on the Upper West Side. It’s the closest thing we’ve had in this case in six months so we jumped on it. Plenty of crazies we interviewed but none panned out so it’s back to--”

Belmont stopped talking when the phone rang. He rose and walked to it while Dian and Dodds looked on. This time of night it would have only been for him and it would only be something urgent.

“Yeah? Yeah, operator, patch him through…. Phil, what’s going on? You’re shitting me. And… shit. Okay. I’m on my way back.”

Belmont hung up the phone and looked back at his daughter and her boyfriend.

“Can I get that dinner packed up? We may have a break in the case.”

“How so?” asked Dian.

“Patrol has reports of a girl getting nabbed by some unknown man off the street in… the Upper West Side. We’re running a dragnet through the neighborhood.”

Dodds shot up from the table with such a force he banged his knees against the table.

“Oh no!” He shouted. “I just remembered… I have an important client meeting tomorrow morning I need to prep for.”

Belmont raised an eyebrow as Dodds started to scramble for his coat. Dian also looked at Dodds with a scowl. Scatterbrain. That was one of the flaws Dodds had, now that Belmont remembered it. A complete and total scatterbrain.

“I’ve got to go.” Dodds had his hat in his hands and looking sheepishly at Dian. “I’ll phone you tomorrow.”

“I made all this Beef Wellington for nothing,” Dian sighed. “At the very least, Daddy, you could let me tag along to the dragnet.”

“Absolutely not,” Belmont and Dodds said in unison. The two men exchanged glances. At least they were on the same page about that.

“I have to go,” Dodds said as he rushed towards the door. “Good luck, Captain--”

“Don’t call me Captain--”

“And pleasant dreams, Dian.”

“What in the world do you see in him?” Belmont asked after Dodds had gone.

“A lot of things,” Dian said with a slight smile. “He’s smart, passionate… he’s… a dreamer.”

---

New York City
Now

“Look at all this shit.”

Patrolmen Santos and Richards walked through the apartment of the deceased Sanderson Hawkins. Detective Gold had sent them to check the place out after talking to Hawkins’ ex-wife. According to her the old man had no reason to off himself. Gold didn’t really believe her. Almost everyone who committed suicide left behind loved ones who refused to believe the truth. For Gold and the rest of the 19th Precinct this was strictly a CYA measure. Cover Your Ass. The landlord had let the two cops in, grumbling the whole time about how Hawkins was on the verge of being evicted and what the hell had he been thinking when he killed himself owing three months of rent.

They were expecting lushes last stop. Instead they found museum quality tidy. The little apartment was some kinda shrine. Filled wall to wall with posters, books, photos and trophies for some guy called...

“The Sandman,” said Santos. “Ain’t that the guy who fights Spider-Man?”

“See the age on some of this stuff, dummy,” said Richards. He waved a flashlight at a faded old poster of a man in a gasmask and fedora walking through a fog. “This is old as hell. Gotta be one of those masked guys from back during WW2.”

“Some of it looks like it’s missing,” said Santos. “Bits and pieces, here and there you know? Not like ransacked and burgled... just missing.”

Richards looked at an easy chair uncomfortably close to the television.

“I see a laptop charger… with no laptop.”

Santos’ flashlight fell on the glass display in the far corner.

“Big ass display… with nothing in it. Just a naked dummy. Again, nothing broken… but stuff missing.”

“Eh, nothing suspicious.” Richard shrugged. “Let’s let the good detective there’s a lot of weird shit, but nothing worth looking into.”

---

Back at his apartment, Wesley Dodds tried to operate Sandy’s laptop as best as he could. He squinted against the bright screen and dragged a weathered finger across the touchpad. It was hard to believe but a long, long time ago he had been on the cutting edge of technology when he’d bought a computer for Dodds Manufacturing. Of course that computer had weighed half a ton and would take up half of Wesley’s current apartment if it were here today. Looking down at this thing suddenly made him remember how old he truly was.

In the corner of his apartment was a duffle bag he’d taken from Sandy’s with… a few select items in them. Wesley remembered the last conversation he’d had with Sandy and suddenly felt ashamed. He’d told Sandy to just throw the costume and everything in his sad little apartment out. He’d been angry then. Angry at Sandy, angry at his life, even angry at God. The boy just happened to be an outlet for that anger. He paused what he was going and took a deep breath. He couldn’t let the past effect his future now. Not when he had something at stake.

Despite being so much younger than Wesley, Sandy had still been an elderly man. And his computer was not very secure. Wesley easily found his emails and began to search through them. He found several correspondents with different people over items and prices. He thought back to the missing items in Sandy’s collection. One email chain caught his attention. It was long and had multiple back and forths every day up until a week ago. He clicked on it and began to read.

“Oh, my god,” he said aloud. “...Sandy… what kind of mess had you gotten yourself into?”

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

Baltimore

The Inner Harbor area of Baltimore stood as a testament of the city’s long ongoing revival. Everyone knew of the city as “Bodymore”, the murder capital of America. Pictures of drug dealers and bodies from The Wire were permanently branded in people’s minds as the prevailing image of Baltimore. But years of development and tax dollars had revitalized the scenic Inner Harbor until it was Baltimore’s top tourist destination. Yeah, sure, the corner boys still owned the streets in West Baltimore, and America’s ongoing “opioid crisis” had revitalized the open air drug markets in Pimlico, but here in the Inner Harbor you could see what Baltimore could really become.



“SUCK MY DICK!”

People ran for dear life across the harbor pavilions while the Atomic Skull’s powerful blasts tore through the newly constructed Chipotle. Atomic Skull let out a cackle and blasted the building again.

“This is what you get for charging two whole dollars for some guac! Now where the fuck is the Trader Joe's?”

Flames of atomic energy licked at the Skull’s hands. He set his empty sockets towards a group of students who were fleeing from the scene. He laughed and aimed a hand towards them. Green energy began to charge from the closed fist.

“I would say sorry for this… but you chose to come to this shithole willingly.”

Before he could get the blast off a powerful fist blindsided the Atomic Skull and drove him headfirst into the ground. The impact of the Skull's head on the ground shattered windows in buildings across the Inner Harbor.



“That’s enough sightseeing for the day, Martin.”

“That’s not fair,” The Skull mumbled as he stood on shaky legs. “What kind of hero just suckerpunches someone? The fu--”

His statement was cut off by Superman. He jumped into the air, driving his knee into Martin’s jaw. The force at which the jaw snapped shut cracked both top and bottom front two teeth in the Skull’s mouth. The knee drove the Skull a hundred feet in the air. At the apex of his ascent, Superman met him and drove him back into the ground with a punch to the sternum.

The force of the Atomic Skull’s fall cracked the cement sidewalk. The fissures from the concrete shot across the Harbor and ran up several buildings, causing structural damage to the walls. Superman chided himself and remembered to make a note of the damage he’d done. The crater the Skull had caused was nearly ten feet deep, a broken and bruised Atomic Skull at the bottom of it. Superman landed above him and looked down. His emerald green flames were down to embers and some sort of green liquid that passed for blood stained the Skull’s clothes.

Superman stepped into the crater and stood over the Skull. Joseph Martin had been the monstrosity known as The Atomic Skull for almost ten years now. Something like this was out of character for him. He was an idiot, yes, but he was never destructive for the sake of it. He never did anything without some kind of angle.

“Ewww mudda fudda,” Martin said through cracked teeth.

“What was the point?” Superman asked. “All this damage--”

“Eww did moah dan me,” The Skull shot back.

“You just wanted to terrorize, Martin?”

“Got paid.”

Superman raised an eyebrow at that.

“Who?” he asked.

“Heahahahe,” Martin laughed. “I haf noaw idea! Dey jus sed get Supaman’s attention.”

Choppers flew overhead. Superman looked up from the broken Skull. Two helicopters with the SHIELD logo on them were hovering above the Inner Harbor and watching. Superman knew agents and containment units wouldn’t be far behind.

“Enjoy prison, Martin. Hopefully they can fix your teeth.”

“Fuff eww,” Martin shouted as Superman leapt into the sky.

---

The White House

“What’s next on the agenda?”

Calvin Ellis stepped out of the bathroom and adjusted the knot in his tie before slipping his glasses on. Pete Ross leaned against the wall of the corridor with his arms crossed.

“Meeting with Senator Siegel,” said Pete. “He and a few friendly senators are going to discuss supreme court nominees.”

The two men started down the hallway towards the Oval Office.

“Everything okay?” Pete whispered.

“Yes,” replied Calvin. “Just… umm, make sure our fiscal budget this summer has some funds set aside for rebuilding Baltimore’s Inner Harbor.”

“You know, Cal, you’re gonna revitalize this nation’s crumbling infrastructure,” said Pete.

Calvin paused at the door leading into the Oval Office and looked at his friend..

“One supervillain battle at a time.”

Calvin shook his head as Pete opened the door. He stepped inside the Oval Office with Pete right behind him.

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

Gonna go ahead and slide my gay ass in here

The dragged out version of the King of Cities is coming to an urban area near you

@Stein

I love you

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

You IKEA lookin bastard

@Cybermaxx

I couldn't chair less.