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Very well, where do I begin?

My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet.

My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.

My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds - pretty standard, really. At the age of twelve, I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles.

There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking. I highly suggest you try it.

Most Recent Posts

To each their own. I will probably sooner retire from the RP scene than do it without color dialogue, as that's how I've been playing since waaay early on in my roleplaying days on the Hype.

Infact, before the Google Docs discovery, I had a saved document full of codes for every single font (or revised font) that I've used in the UOU thus far. Comes in handy to just be able to copy/paste, though obviously there's now an easier alternative.
Post is formatted, thank god. It looked naked without the fancy-schmancy colors.

Also, apparently the Android version of Google Docs doesn't feature the BBCode Export add-on, so I'll be sure to use Google Docs on my PC from now on.
<Snipped quote by Master Bruce>

Did you miss the "you can automatically format posts on Google Docs" discussion? Because finding that out has changed my life. You'll never have to manually wrap tags around anything ever again.


I actually wrote that post in Google Docs over my phone in the hopes of taking advantage of that, but couldn't find the feature to transfer the post in code. Possibly due to my using the mobile app, which in itself was new to me.
I believe I need to reapply before I can post again. So here's my CS with some ammendums and a fresh sample post.





Well... not my best work ever, and it's absolutely killing me to be too tired to format any of the dialogue at this time. But it's better than officially crossing the two week limit, of which I was a hair away.


Gotham City, Dini Plaza
The Bowery
1:00 AM


"S-Stay away! Stay the hell back or I'll cut the bitch! Believe me, I'll do it!"



It’s not that I don’t believe him. I just don’t happen to have enough faith in the combat capabilities of a trembling seventeen-year-old holding a switchblade to a woman’s face in order to hesitate in my attack. The kid is right to be scared out of his mind, given I already knocked his associates unconscious, but the all-consuming need he has to put distance between us through an empty threat makes him vulnerable in ways that he cannot even begin to comprehend. The woman’s safety is barely in question as I can already tell that her captor is green. Hasn't brought himself to kill, much less wound, to survive living in Gotham.

So in the best way that I know how, I try and let him off with warning.

"I'm going to put this delicately…"

Immediately throwing the cloak infront of me to cause him to flinch, I seize the given opening and grab the hand carrying the knife. The kid loses all interest in his captive, who looks at me with the same gaze of horror and quickly flees into the shadows while clutching her purse. He struggles as I lift him off of the ground by his own arm, kicking and panicking as I lean in. The expression on my face making my displeasure more than clear enough to turn his complexion pale.

“If you or your friends so much as think about pulling a stunt like this in the future? Consider me the reason to remind yourself not to.”

Just as the kid starts to think that he’s in the clear, I reach up with my other hand and easily rip the switchblade from his grasp. Reeling back to go in for a stabbing motion, I wait until he cries out and shields his face before thrusting the knife forward. To his surprise, he looks back up to find it embedded in the brick of the wall he’s pinned against. Inches from his face.

"Holy fucking shit!"

"Indeed."

With a hard precision kick to the face, I send the back of his skull colliding into the wall. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he hits the ground, out cold and hopefully having learned a serious lesson: Never try and pull a knife on someone in the dead of night in Gotham. It only ever ends one way.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I survey the alleyway behind me, freshly littered with unconscious bodies. I should almost feel relieved, all things considered, to have dealt with such a considerably low threat as this. Ever since the Five Families began clenching their remaining operations closer to the chest following their lieutenants ending up in GCPD lockup, subsequently forcing them to rethink their distribution strategies, Alfred and I have been putting in a more considerable effort in trying to uncover their next move. Which has dealt the unexpected consequence of driving my attention away from the smaller crimes.

Of course, there are other things threatening Gotham than just the mob, lately. Firing a grapple line up to a nearby rooftop, I ascend into the shadows and leap, spreading my cape outwards so that I can easily vault over the scaffolding without error and land into a running sprint. The entire purpose of dividing up my routine patrol tonight was to allow the time to strengthen Ace’s signal as it began a citywide search for the known components linked to two metahuman fugitives. Poison Ivy and Mr. Freeze.

So far, I’ve been coming up with nothing of note. An earlier sweep of The Narrows, where I fought an Ivy-controlled Jessica Jones, produced no apparent remaining trace of the pheromone extract that I suspect Ivy used to initiate the manipulation of Jones’ will in the first place. Meaning that the extract was likely concocted to dissolve with time, rendering it untraceable if not immediately noticed. And in the case of Freeze, there appears to be no discernable temperature drop in any area of the city that seems out of place. Grocery freezers, meat packing plants, produce lockers. But nothing big enough to hide a seven foot suit of technologically advanced cryogenic armor, nevermind it’s occupant.

Grappling up to a gargoyle overlooking the skyline of the financial district, I land into a perch and stare outwards, hoping for any lead to pop up in the ongoing scan of the city. I’ve already began to hate this feeling. Knowing that these types of individuals with special abilities are out there. Hoping that I can even devise some method of capturing them. Doubting myself in the face of the unknown. None of it feels right, chasing these larger-than-life extrapolations of the common criminal.

When I created The Batman, I did so under the impression that no one would even think of going to the very same and particularly extreme lengths of theatricality that I would. The knowledge of having this advantage against my enemies instilled me with a certain amount of confidence. An unshakable determination to hound the thugs that had oppressed Gotham for decades back to whatever hole they originally crawled out of.

This is something entirely different. And I’m not sure how to handle any of it, beyond pressing forward and hoping for the best. Likely an approach that’s going to get me killed, but I don’t have any other options left. It isn’t as though I could have trained to anticipate an evolutionary phenomena, or however one would classify the metahuman uprising.

With a frustrated grunt, I raise my gauntlet and press the button to open up the secure channel linked to my cowl’s earpiece. Maybe Alfred’s had better luck than I have in tracking down these perversions of science. I only know how to work so many angles on my own.

"Tell me you've found something."

"Nothing of interest on the surveillance feed, Bruce. Just the usual string of petty thefts and drunken brawls that one has grown so very accustomed to in regards to the Gotham nightlife."

Dammit.

"Keep looking. Ace hasn’t given me anything to work with, and I'm running out of ideas. Ivy and Freeze have evidently found a way to cover their tracks."

"Will do, lad. And in the meantime?"

Standing atop the gargoyle, my cape billows out behind me as I prepare to make the leap.

"Word on the street is that Maroni's got a small group of officers working the docks later tonight. Some kind of security detail on a shipment off the books. Until I can pick up a trace on the other two, I'll be staking that out. Could be something."

As I go to move for the dive, something unexpectedly drops onto my shoulder. At first, I think it’s just a passing flock of birds. But as I reach over to that shoulder and feel for it, I realize that whatever’s hit me is much denser. Thicker, almost of the same texture as…

I pause, examining the substance in my palm.

What the hell?

"Clay?"

“Heh. Guess I tipped my hand a little too early, huh?”

Alarmed by the completely unexpected voice that originates from the very building that I’ve been perched against for the last minute, I immediately spin with knuckles raised in a defensive stance. But the sight that greets me is enough to completely turn that instinct on it’s head.

I… have no idea what I’m looking at.

But whatever it is, it’s growing. Fast.

“When they busted me outta lock-up, they told me the only stipulation was that I had to go and kill a super. Seeing as how you’re the big man causing a scene around here, lately…”



“I’m guessing that means you.”
I got a question regarding Darkseid and Thanos. Are they friends? Enemies? Frenemies? And I am assuming that the GMs have plans for Darkseid rather than Thanos at the moment?


That thought hasn't really crossed my mind, but I imagine that they're rivals. Darkseid isn't really capable of having friends, just subjects to rule over. I don't imagine he's very good at entertaining company. I imagine it's the same for Thanos, though I'm way more familiar with his MCU counterpart than the comics. They likely have similar goals, but see eachother as unwieldy.
IN REGARDS TO THE MME

Alright, it took me a little longer to write than I anticipated, but the kick-off is finally up. And with it, I'm going to have to explain a few things, as this MME is quite different from the last.

The difference being, everyone who wants to take part is going to have to choose how this goes down. I intentionally left things very vague, as I didn't want to just pick a bunch of random villains out of a hat to throw at people, but who exactly comes out looking for a fight is all up to you. Not to mention how many, and whether or not they've been established before now.

Basically, someone's going to come to one of the mentioned cities and start wreaking havoc. Your job, as the heroes, is to fend off these attacks as they come and then go to help whoever you logically can. So in Thor's case, after he fights his challenger, he could probably fly to another city still being attacked. Same with The Flash and Superman (though Andy and I are doing our little team-up, so we may be late to the party).

The goal of this is to gather as many of you into one place as you can while also giving you a threat where you live, to give you each motivation to go seek out answers. Your villains, once defeated, will likely reveal that they came from The Raft. Or you'll get them to tell you. However you want to approach it.

The point being, this is all in your hands. If you want to get creative and use a member of someone else's rogues gallery for your initial fight, PM them and ask permission. Otherwise, dig deep and pull out someone you don't really have plans for, or someone that you want to tease for a future story. Once all of the villains are defeated, there'll be The Surfer himself to deal with. And if there are enough of you assembled, that fight will be considerably shorter than the first.

Also, if you wanted to take part and I left you or your city out, or got your city wrong, or included you without you wanting me to, let me know and I can edit the post. I did the best I could, but I'll admit to rushing some of the details just to get the dramatic stuff out of the way.

So... let's do this.


The Raft Prison Island
New York City, NY
1:34 AM


"Is the prisoner secured?"

"Best as we can tell, sir. There's no real way of knowin' what this freak can do."

The Silver Surfer solemnly stared out at his own reflection as the thick, so-called shatterproof glass stood between him and a considerable escort of human guards. They each held heavily militarized energy pulse rifles that had been generously provided by a paranoid being of some influence named Luthor, who seemed to be even more wary of the steadily growing metahuman population than most of this world's chosen leaders. It mattered not to the master of The Power Cosmic, whose pulsating binds and shackles did little to dampen the power that flowed through his veins. But removed from the humans' desire to see him contained just as any metahuman that they'd mistakenly believed him to be, there actually was something holding The Surfer back. A fleeting sense of confliction that dwelled within him, rearing itself at every inopportune moment that he could experience of peace. Glimpses of a life once lived, a life that he had once believed that he'd chosen to relinquish freely in submission of a greater purpose. When the might of the cosmos was bestowed upon him, it seemed to have a far greater effect on his mind than originally realized.

He'd felt it for the first time whenever his energy dampened, however as impossibly as that still seemed, in the test to prove the worth of Iris West - known to all as The Flash. Were it not for the interference of Kal-El, called 'Superman' by those whom spoke of the event, The Surfer was more than certain that The Scarlet Speedster would have failed the test and rendered metahuman life unworthy of the ultimate gift of serving a greater good. But with their power combined, something had happened. The Surfer's connection to The Power Cosmic had waned, and in his struggle to maintain what had claimed his mind for so very long, The Flash and Superman were able to subdue him. And whenever he caught a glimpse of himself and looked upon the face of that which stared back at him - having been revealed beneath the chrome exterior that had since replaced it - The Surfer only saw a stranger.

This troubled him. More than anything else, that sense of disillusionment was what had kept The Silver Surfer from escaping these bonds with ease and leaving the confinement of The Raft, or The Triskelion, or any other potential holding that the humans would devise. While the thought of resuming his test after such an unexpected outcome had crossed his mind, it was his encounter just one week prior with the cosmically charged human woman, Susan Storm, that had made him realize the source of his confliction.

He did not know who he truly was. Before, it had been relatively simple to assume that he was The Silver Surfer and nothing more. A pawn of a master who had tasked him with carrying out a glorious mission that would result in peace across the cosmos. And for quite some time, he dutifully excelled, watching over planets that could possibly hold beings worthy to serve at the feet of the only being in the universe that sought to unite them all.

Now he could do nothing but stare at his own reflection, wondering if he could possibly conjure that stranger's face once more. If by some force of will, he could peel back the layer of powerful energy crackling across a body that lied underneath the silver construct that he'd been turned into. The Surfer was confident that if he could study that reflection with contemplation, he could discern the truth of his very identity. But even he did not fully control The Power Cosmic as he once believed, as the living energy refused to relinquish from him even for a moment.

For what purpose?, The Surfer wondered. Whom would benefit from clouding my mind? Twisting my intentions, laboring the very thought of a life before this?

And in the first real moment that left The Surfer surprised since his arrival at The Raft, as if in an answer to his lingering question, something appeared from nothing behind him. Breaking his eye contact from the troubled glint of his own gaze, The Surfer turned and realized that a brilliant beam of light was bouncing off of the wall of the cage that he had chosen to remain within. The light was solitary at first, appearing as though it were sphere, before expanding into a series of interconnected circles. He immediately recognized this, as it had been used as the customary mode of transportation from his home - or at least, what he had been led to believe was his home. Within seconds, a figure stepped forth from the portal, surrounded by the blinding light as it subsided. The Surfer recognized this person aswell, and his posture became visibly tense.

"My, my. Would you look at this? It would seem as though that there are binds even you cannot escape after all..."

The individual chuckled to himself as The Surfer stared back, his eyes pulsating with cosmic energy for the first time since his imprisonment here. After all that he had suffered with in recent days, he found the agent of his homeworld's tone to be particularly mocking. And it was less than appreciated.

"Kanto.", The Surfer finally replied. "You have come a long way."

Kanto allowed a staff that he was carrying to fly from one of his palms to another, jovially admiring the sight of The Silver Surfer bound by such primitive constraints. Taking a look around, he suppressed an even bigger smirk, realizing just how little that the denizens of Earth had advanced since his original exile to the once insignificant planet.

"I would not have bothered, to be quite honest with you.", the weaponsmith replied. "But it seems as though that Father has further need of your power, for reasons that I cannot even begin to comprehend."

The Surfer paused.

"Father?"

The energy illuminating behind his eyes began to glow even brighter as The Surfer stepped forth, his legs phasing through the constraints that had never truly held him to begin with. While an alarm was meant to activate in the event that The Surfer had tried to escape, per the instructions of The Raft's warden, something was dampening it. Realizing that the staff that Kanto held was no mere part of his ensemble, as it too glowed with an otherworldly energy, The Surfer's eyes narrowed towards the mischievous man.

"You call him father. I am... unsure of what to call him anymore."

The Surfer's brow furrowed.

"There have been questions since we last spoke that plague me, Kanto. Questions that I know you hold the answers to. Tell me now and I will spare your life."

Kanto held up a palm, clearly untimidated by The Surfer's threat.

"Questions? Plaguing you? Then it is just as I feared. Granny had assured me, as she assured us all, that your mind would irreversibly break under the strain of wielding such a power. Especially one which was stolen from a devourer of worlds..."

The Surfer glared in recognition of that term. Superman had briefly alluded to such a being before, in the midst of some misguided attempt to appeal to a being that he believed himself to be facing. Susan Storm also spoke of this being directly.

"Galactus."

"Oh, yes. Even now, the giant slumbers within the ether of space, unaware of what has been accomplished even after all this time. But it appears that Granny, despite herself, doesn't truly know what's best. You're beginning to remember something.", Kanto curiously posited. "Tell me, what was it that reversed the effects of Granny's laborious torture? And don't tell me it the woman. That would be so very predictable."

The Surfer's head tilted, confused by Kanto's taunt.

Woman? What woman?

"Evidently not. But no matter. I'll admit, I was simply having a little bit of fun before I helped you carry out the next phase of the test."

"The... next phase?", The Surfer questioned. "You waste your words aswell as my time. The 'test' is long since over. I have already cast judgement."

Kanto grinned.

"Have you?"

Suddenly, The Surfer felt himself growing weaker. The Power Cosmic within him no longer felt as though it were a tangible part of his being, but as though it were it's own prison. Striking out at his life force, pulling him apart from within. Unable to bear it for very long, he inevitably dropped to his knees. Kanto placed the staff in his hand upon the base of The Surfer's head, watching as the staff glowed in tune with The Power Cosmic.

"You forget yourself, 'herald'. Such judgement was never your's to give in the first place. Why else do you believe that your power dampened at the moment of opportunity? In the midst of battle, at the moment that these beings could be properly observed by our spies. You were simply the conduit for something greater. And you performed the part to the letter."

Gritting his teeth, The Surfer weakly looked up at Kanto, barely hiding his rage.

"What are you talking about?!"

"The Power Cosmic slipped from your unworthy fingers because Father allowed it. He willed it, infact, in an effort to utilize you as a part of his own test. Because in the end, what better way to make use of a blindly loyal servant than to throw him at prospective soldiers?", Kanto laughed. "Oh, but... you believed that you were the soldier and not the servant, didn't you? Such naivety. Even beneath that shell, you truly haven't changed."

Summoning every possible ounce of strength left within him, The Surfer angrily rose to his feet and grabbed at Kanto, pinning him to the wall of the glass enclosure. The brilliance of the silver coating his skin was beginning to wane, but he still felt enough of his power coursing through him to pose a considerable threat to the weaponsmith. Kanto merely smiled, more amused than anything.

"I served the master without question! Without disobedience! I was unwavering in my loyalty to him, and he repays me with deception?!", The Surfer angrily shouted. "I am no mere pawn to be played in a game at his leisure! In what manner do you seek to mock me?! For what reason other than your own perversions?! I would speak with 'Father' myself, were I to possess the means! You've stolen from me! Thoughts, memories, perhaps even more!"

Kanto grabbed tightly onto The Surfer's wrist, immediately quelling his rage. The weaponsmith's strength was greater than one would assume, and it caught the herald off guard. With a mere backhand, The Surfer flew against the other side of the cell, cracking it upon impact. Composing himself once more, Kanto slammed his staff against the ground, causing The Power Cosmic to respond by immobilizing it's host.

"Such a temper, too. Though you were never very good at maintaining your dignity when faced with such harsh truths.", Kanto remarked, approaching. "Worry not, however, for your burdens will soon be lifted. These thoughts and memories will fade from your mind once again, never to return and cost Father even more precious time than they already have. As I said before, you played your part. You were subdued by the humans, taken to their own personal refuge for beings that could further challenge those that dear Desaad would mold into loyalists. And now, we both find ourselves in the perfect place to initiate the true test. By Father's design, of course."

The Surfer's rage was unrelenting, even if the power refused to bend to his will.

"You think me a fool, Kanto?", he hatefully replied. "In what version of reality would I ever agree to help you in light of this transgression? What world would you have me live in to once again believe the lies that you likely had a hand in telling me yourself?"

"Why, the only world that matters. A world you already know very well."

Kanto lifted the staff, maliciously looking upon the helpless Surfer.

"Apokolips."

With a light so blinding that even The Surfer could not look into it, Kanto's staff rose into the air independent of it's owner's grip and began to spin. As it spun, it shrunk and transformed, assuming a cube-like structure with a series of circular etchings. As the glow faded, the cube fell into Kanto's hands, revealing itself to be a Mother Box. A glint of fear passed over The Surfer's eyes as Kanto raised it to him, slowly remembering what had happened the last time that he had come into contact with such a device.

PING!

Within an instant, The Silver Surfer felt himself overcome by every prior memory that he had once believed lost. He remembered his days on New Genesis, following it's takeover once the Highfather fell to the forces of Apokolips. Escaping anything and everything that had sought to bind him, time and time again. Winning the admiration of the court of Granny Goodness, and the heart of her fiercest Female Fury.

He also remembered the conspiracy to pull of his most masterful escape yet, once it became clear that the machinations put in place to put them on the path towards The Anti-Life Equation would prove to be catastrophic. He distinctly remembered relaying his plan to his love, who unquestionably agreed. The madness had to end.

They were both captured. Reconditioned. And for his part, Scott Free had paid the ultimate price.

Stripped of his very identity and consciousness, he was remade under the influence of a power stolen from Galactus, the devourer of worlds. No longer in a position to escape the massive confluence of his forced bond with The Power Cosmic, Scott Free was reborn as The Silver Surfer. And with that power, he became subservient. Ready to carry out any task that was asked of him by a cold, calculating master of all that lived. All that ever would live.

PING!

And with that, he could remember no more.

Closing his eyes, The Silver Surfer stood, void of emotion and filled only with purpose. Kanto nodded once in approval, seeing that the Mother Box had achieved success in restoring the herald's fleeting loyalty in full. Allowing it to take on the form of his staff once more, Kanto gestured towards the cells that surrounded his.

"Go forth, Surfer. Your next task is clear. You're to release these fools and imbue them with the power that they need to be able to initiate conflict with the metahumans. When such conflict is initiated, you are to resume observance. Have you learned of the primary locations that harbor these prospective agents of Apokolips?"

The Surfer turned to Kanto and rose into the air, his board suddenly forming beneath him. The shackles that once held him in place having been long severed off.

"YES."

His eyes glowing, he reached out into the vastness of the cosmos to locate what were considered the primary metahumans of this world. And within seconds, images of various costumed individuals began to flash across his mind. Superman, of course, aswell as The Flash. But there were others. Greg Saunders, The Ghost Rider. Blake Donaldson, The Mighty Thor. Gwendolyn Stacy, The Spider-Woman. Reed Richards, Susan Storm, Jonathan Storm, and Benjamin Grimm of The Fantastic Four.

Saunders resided in Warpath, Texas. Donaldson in Marville, Oklahoma. Stacy, Richards, the Storms, and Grimm were all currently just outside, in New York City, after The Surfer's brief encounter with Storm in Washington, DC. And Iris West still resided in her dwelling of Central City. Curiously, Kal-El was currently visiting Gotham City, New Jersey, despite Superman's considerably well known home of Metropolis, Delaware. The Surfer assumed it wise to dispatch individuals to both locations.

"TEXAS. OKLAHOMA. NEW YORK. CENTRAL CITY. GOTHAM CITY. AND METROPOLIS. THESE SHALL BE THE GROUNDS OF WHICH THE NEXT TEST WILL TAKE PLACE."

All of these locations would serve as branching points. If the individuals within The Raft were to test these metahumans directly, they would have to be transported to those cities. Enhanced with power beyond their imagination, but nothing in comparison to The Surfer himself. Kanto would likely wish to provide them with weapons, should they need them, as that was his trade.

"Then I believe your confinement is lifted. Happy choosing."

Wordlessly, The Surfer drifted upwards and slowly spun in the other direction, just barely noticing the crowd of panicked guards as they drew their weapons and attempted to open fire upon seeing their prisoner phase through the shatterproof glass. Each bolt of energy fell to an invisible barrier, with some blasts being redirected towards the guard that had fired it. The Silver Surfer cared not for this conflict, as he scanned The Raft for potential inhabitants worthy of the cause.

Sensing a few promising candidates, The Surfer flew forth and phased through the guards as if they were nothing. A series of explosions rang out across the prison island, as people began barking orders at eachother to re-establish order. Cells were opened automatically, of their own volition, and an all-out prison break was mounting. Some would try and resist, but it would be impossible to completely contain this. Especially once The Surfer began teleporting the subjects to the respective cities to initiate battle.

Kanto smiled.

"Glory be to you, Father."

Tipping his head downwards, as if in a slight prayer, the weaponsmith looked towards the chaos ahead of him and found a sense of familiarity in the fires that were beginning to spread. Re-opening the Boom Tube that had brought him here, Kanto took a final passing look as the chaos mounted even further. His mind raced with the possibilities, as he knew he would momentarily return with technology that would turn these poor souls into formidable threats to come.

"For who is to be their God, once the ashes of this planet settle?"



"Darkseid is."


Me waiting for the MME (yes I’m being rude, I apologize)


No, that's entirely fair. Unlike the last MME, I didn't have a post pre-written and now it's come back to haunt me. I'm working on it, I promise, and I'm going to try my damndest to get it up before midnight - or at least around that time.
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