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D O O M P A T R O L
Susan Storm could hear the telltale notes of a violin accompanied by flutes from down the hallway. As she walked down the wide, immaculate corridor and neared the source she brushed her golden locks behind her right ear, tilting her head towards the sounds. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Violin Concerto No. 3 in G major as performed by Joseph Joachim, the young scientist identified. Sue had heard the composition more times than she could recall in the last handful of years and she knew it's meaning all too well.
Good, Sue thought. He's in an excellent mood today.
In all the time she had known Victor Von Doom, he had always been a lover of classical music. And, almost a decade-and-a-half since their first meeting and nearly five years since their first date, Susan could tell how the man was feeling based entirely on his choice of composition. This particular piece, she knew, indicated he was in high spirits. The first time she had heard this particular violinist's performance had been the day following the first kiss she and Victor had shared. The latest was during their exploratory voyage into the Microverse the previous year.
Given Victor's recent frustrations over his current project and its elusive solution, the lightly dancing concerto was a pleasant and welcome surprise.
She stepped through the open doorway of Victor's personal laboratory. His "castle" as he called it. The Future Foundation boasted many spaces dedicated to scientific research and development, including the central room that took up the majority of the fourth floor that had been assigned as the testing facility for the Doom Patrol upon the group's formation. Victor, though, had always preferred tinkering in his smaller - though still substantive - lab tucked away amongst a corner of the fifth floor.
Unlike the main facility, Victor's laboratory was largely devoid of technological marvels that the former room displayed. Instead, here the walls were proudly adorned with art. Large canvas paintings, charcoal sketches, and sculptures alike covered nearly every visible space from the hallway to the central area where Victor sat. Sue recognized numerous famous works and pieces from the Birth of Venus and The Persistence of Memory by painters Sandro Botticelli and Salvador Dalí respectively, to some of Georgia O'Keeffe's charcoal drawings, to the classic image of The Nefertiti Bust sculpted of limestone settled into a recessed shelf in the wall.
Every one of them was a replica. The most expertly done replicas she could imagine existing, with every single piece of art displayed in the room entirely indistinguishable from the original. Susan doubted even Botticelli himself could be pressed to find a discernable difference. And each of them had been painted, drawn, or sculpted by Victor Von Doom.
Sue mused that, in another lifetime, had Victor taken a different path in life, he would have made an impressive criminal and perhaps the greatest forger in history.
As she neared closer to Victor's desk, where she could see the dark-haired man hunched over and hard at work, Sue's eyes drifted up to stare briefly at the massive portrait mounted directly above the desk. It covered nearly the entire expanse of the wall and was visibly dominant amongst all of the other art pieces present. The painting depicted a woman in her mid-twenties with shoulder-length, sun-touched hair. Striking sapphire eyes that slightly peered down as if watching over Victor as he worked, and a subtle, soft smile that Victor had often described as "a heart melter" completed the beautiful piece.
Susan's lips uplifted to match the painted smile. Her hair was longer now, but Victor had done such an amazing job capturing the image of his model that it was impossible not to recognize the visage of Sue Storm. There had been a time where she had genuinely been embarrassed by the portrait, or at least by its dramatic prominence. She had more than a few times over the last four years when it had first been erected onto the wall urged Victor to paint a smaller, subtler version if not remove it entirely. But now, Susan couldn't deny she appreciated the display, though she would never admit that out loud. After all, of all the replicated famous pieces of world-wide renown Victor had done over the years, her portrait was still to this day the only original painting he had ever completed.
At the same moment that she rested a gentle hand atop Victor's shoulder the melody of the concerto immediately died down. Sue wasn't surprised. No matter how engrossed in his work he became, Victor had never failed to notice her presence. Early on in their relationship, Susan had attempted numerous times to teasingly sneak up on the man by using her abilities to bend light around her body, rendering herself invisible, but Victor had still known she was there. Once or twice he had even played along with her ruse, feigning surprise, but Sue could tell he had known.
It was one of the many things she adored about him; how well Victor knew her.
"Hey, handsome." She leaned down and kissed his left temple. "Hope I'm not distracting you."
Victor's fingers were a blur as he continued typing away. Susan glanced at the multiple screens before him and noticed the rapid scroll of mathematical equations. For several seconds there was no response to her words.
Then, the clacking of his fingers against keys ceased and the numbers and symbols on the screens slowed to a halt. Victor pressed a single button to his right side and the computer monitors went dark.
Spinning around with a wide grin across his face and excitement in his eyes, he spoke. "You are many things, Susan, but you are never a distraction."
Sue didn't bother to conceal the smile his words gave her. Even after years of being together, Victor's compliments and affirmations made her heart soar. He never once made her feel unloved or like she came secondary to anything else. She was his world, his soul, his desire. Those were the words he had spoken to her on that incredible day just eight months ago.
"Joseph Joachim, huh?" She said, her eyes searching his.
Victor chuckled lightly. "You know me too well."
"Should I break out the champagne, or?"
"Susan," he said rising out of his chair. "You should definitely break out the champagne."
"You've done it?" She asked with wonder.
"I'm very confident."
Susan's smile deepened at that. Victor was almost always very confident.
"I bet," she said teasingly.
"It's now only a matter of adapting my newest calculations to the drive. Shouldn't take more than a day or two at the most. Then we can begin our proper test run," he elaborated.
"The boys will be excited to hear the news, I'm sure," Sue added as she slowly rocked forward onto her tiptoes.
Victor took a half-step toward her so that their torsos brushed together. Lowering his head to match her slighter stature, he spoke in a softer tone and peered deeply into her blue eyes. "I suppose we should celebrate the occasion, then."
"Yes," Susan agreed as she moved forward to press her lips against his. "We should definitely celebrate."
Sue Storm felt her fiance's hands encircle her waist and heard the soft swell of music fill the chamber again. Victor Von Doom was certainly in an excellent mood that day, and so too was she.
Good, Sue thought. He's in an excellent mood today.
In all the time she had known Victor Von Doom, he had always been a lover of classical music. And, almost a decade-and-a-half since their first meeting and nearly five years since their first date, Susan could tell how the man was feeling based entirely on his choice of composition. This particular piece, she knew, indicated he was in high spirits. The first time she had heard this particular violinist's performance had been the day following the first kiss she and Victor had shared. The latest was during their exploratory voyage into the Microverse the previous year.
Given Victor's recent frustrations over his current project and its elusive solution, the lightly dancing concerto was a pleasant and welcome surprise.
She stepped through the open doorway of Victor's personal laboratory. His "castle" as he called it. The Future Foundation boasted many spaces dedicated to scientific research and development, including the central room that took up the majority of the fourth floor that had been assigned as the testing facility for the Doom Patrol upon the group's formation. Victor, though, had always preferred tinkering in his smaller - though still substantive - lab tucked away amongst a corner of the fifth floor.
Unlike the main facility, Victor's laboratory was largely devoid of technological marvels that the former room displayed. Instead, here the walls were proudly adorned with art. Large canvas paintings, charcoal sketches, and sculptures alike covered nearly every visible space from the hallway to the central area where Victor sat. Sue recognized numerous famous works and pieces from the Birth of Venus and The Persistence of Memory by painters Sandro Botticelli and Salvador Dalí respectively, to some of Georgia O'Keeffe's charcoal drawings, to the classic image of The Nefertiti Bust sculpted of limestone settled into a recessed shelf in the wall.
Every one of them was a replica. The most expertly done replicas she could imagine existing, with every single piece of art displayed in the room entirely indistinguishable from the original. Susan doubted even Botticelli himself could be pressed to find a discernable difference. And each of them had been painted, drawn, or sculpted by Victor Von Doom.
Sue mused that, in another lifetime, had Victor taken a different path in life, he would have made an impressive criminal and perhaps the greatest forger in history.
As she neared closer to Victor's desk, where she could see the dark-haired man hunched over and hard at work, Sue's eyes drifted up to stare briefly at the massive portrait mounted directly above the desk. It covered nearly the entire expanse of the wall and was visibly dominant amongst all of the other art pieces present. The painting depicted a woman in her mid-twenties with shoulder-length, sun-touched hair. Striking sapphire eyes that slightly peered down as if watching over Victor as he worked, and a subtle, soft smile that Victor had often described as "a heart melter" completed the beautiful piece.
Susan's lips uplifted to match the painted smile. Her hair was longer now, but Victor had done such an amazing job capturing the image of his model that it was impossible not to recognize the visage of Sue Storm. There had been a time where she had genuinely been embarrassed by the portrait, or at least by its dramatic prominence. She had more than a few times over the last four years when it had first been erected onto the wall urged Victor to paint a smaller, subtler version if not remove it entirely. But now, Susan couldn't deny she appreciated the display, though she would never admit that out loud. After all, of all the replicated famous pieces of world-wide renown Victor had done over the years, her portrait was still to this day the only original painting he had ever completed.
At the same moment that she rested a gentle hand atop Victor's shoulder the melody of the concerto immediately died down. Sue wasn't surprised. No matter how engrossed in his work he became, Victor had never failed to notice her presence. Early on in their relationship, Susan had attempted numerous times to teasingly sneak up on the man by using her abilities to bend light around her body, rendering herself invisible, but Victor had still known she was there. Once or twice he had even played along with her ruse, feigning surprise, but Sue could tell he had known.
It was one of the many things she adored about him; how well Victor knew her.
"Hey, handsome." She leaned down and kissed his left temple. "Hope I'm not distracting you."
Victor's fingers were a blur as he continued typing away. Susan glanced at the multiple screens before him and noticed the rapid scroll of mathematical equations. For several seconds there was no response to her words.
Then, the clacking of his fingers against keys ceased and the numbers and symbols on the screens slowed to a halt. Victor pressed a single button to his right side and the computer monitors went dark.
Spinning around with a wide grin across his face and excitement in his eyes, he spoke. "You are many things, Susan, but you are never a distraction."
Sue didn't bother to conceal the smile his words gave her. Even after years of being together, Victor's compliments and affirmations made her heart soar. He never once made her feel unloved or like she came secondary to anything else. She was his world, his soul, his desire. Those were the words he had spoken to her on that incredible day just eight months ago.
"Joseph Joachim, huh?" She said, her eyes searching his.
Victor chuckled lightly. "You know me too well."
"Should I break out the champagne, or?"
"Susan," he said rising out of his chair. "You should definitely break out the champagne."
"You've done it?" She asked with wonder.
"I'm very confident."
Susan's smile deepened at that. Victor was almost always very confident.
"I bet," she said teasingly.
"It's now only a matter of adapting my newest calculations to the drive. Shouldn't take more than a day or two at the most. Then we can begin our proper test run," he elaborated.
"The boys will be excited to hear the news, I'm sure," Sue added as she slowly rocked forward onto her tiptoes.
Victor took a half-step toward her so that their torsos brushed together. Lowering his head to match her slighter stature, he spoke in a softer tone and peered deeply into her blue eyes. "I suppose we should celebrate the occasion, then."
"Yes," Susan agreed as she moved forward to press her lips against his. "We should definitely celebrate."
Sue Storm felt her fiance's hands encircle her waist and heard the soft swell of music fill the chamber again. Victor Von Doom was certainly in an excellent mood that day, and so too was she.
I did a thing.
D O O M P A T R O L
The cafeteria was a cacophony of silverware clinking against plates. The din of chatter rose above it as both students and faculty of the Future Foundation enjoyed their lunch. The smell of burgundy beef stew filled the air. From his table in the corner, far removed from the others, Clifford Steele watched and listened.
At one side of the large room, Cliff noted Malcolm Duncan. The students of the Foundation were mostly split into two departments; science and the arts, with a light sprinkling of other academic fields for good measure. Mal, barely twenty years old, had been admitted to the program under the latter criteria. An aspiring film director, the young mister Duncan sported a creative mind that the staff would cultivate and nurture and allow to blossom. And with the equipment and funding provided here, he would flourish greatly.
Still, the arts weren't Malcolm's only passion. Tall with a large, muscular frame, Mal reminded Cliff of his younger days as an adrenaline junky. The youth always sought out physical activities and thrived on competition. A member of both the Baxter Building's track and wrestling teams - as the institute prided itself on having both healthy bodies in addition to keen minds - Mal had the spirit of a true athlete. Clifford could remember when, just four years ago, Mal had joined the Future Foundation and immediately made a name for himself both by winning that year's wrestling tournament as well as producing an award-winning short docu-film based on the rise of the modern 'superhero' and their place in the world.
Cliff had given the star student a standing ovation on both occasions.
Next to Mal, and currently sporting the former's arm draped around her shoulder, sat Karen Beecher, the other half of the Foundation's young power couple. She was about a foot shorter than her beau and very slim, with her dark hair cut into a bob. Unlike her boyfriend, Karen had gotten into the Foundation based on her sharp intellect. Cliff didn't understand what, exactly, it was she was working on, but he knew that her latest project had become the talk of the faculty.
On the complete opposite side of the cafeteria sat Wyatt Wingfoot. At thirty-one, he was about a decade younger than Clifford. Wyatt was six-foot with long black hair, classically handsome features, and a well-toned physique that clearly wasn't just for show.
He also happened to be Cliff's replacement.
Six years ago, prior to the incident, Cliff Steele had operated as the Future Foundation's head of security. He had been in his mid-thirties then and a well-known adventurer who had traversed the world from the Amazon Rainforest to the Himalayas and everywhere in between. He had swum, unprotected, with sharks and free-climbed mountains just for the sheer thrill of it. A born daredevil, Clifford had only accepted the position at the Baxter Building at the promise of being able to participate and lead the greatest, most dangerous expedition possible. He had been on the job for less than eight months before the mishap that left him in his current state.
Then, Wyatt came in, hired while Cliff was still in a coma as his body slowly deteriorated. The younger man had taken his old position and had even joined in on Cliff's new role. Several of the adventures the so-called Doom Patrol had gone on in recent years had had Wyatt Wingfoot as a willing and able participant. And, just two years ago, the new head of security had been instrumental in fending off an attack on the Baxter Building.
Clifford scanned Wyatt. Healthy, strong, dependable. And his replacement.
He knew it wasn't Wyatt's fault. He understood that the man had done nothing to wrong him, had only ever been friendly and supportive. But, still. Cliff had been replaced in more ways than one.
He noticed Wyatt taste a spoonful of stew before finally turning away. Cliff's optical sensors looked down to the empty table before him. No steaming, delicious broth. Not now. Not ever.
Cliff leaned forward and carefully rested his metallic elbows on the thin tabletop, making sure to hold most of his considerable weight off of the surface, and set his head between open palms. Truth be told, it was a vestigial gesture more than anything else. With his new body, there was no need to rest as there was no chance of fatigue.
New, he thought. It had been nearly a full six years since the accident that had left his former body mangled and beyond repair. Nearly a full six years since Victor Von Doom had made the decision to replace Cliff's biological form with that of one entirely composed of nanomachines - save his brain which had miraculously been intact. Nearly a full six years since Cliff Steele had become the Robotman.
He didn't blame Victor. He held no ill-will or resentment towards his teammate and friend. In fact, Cliff was grateful to Victor for saving his life. And yet...
Cliff sighed deeply. Or, rather, his synthetic voice box approximated the sound of a heavy exhalation. Another vestigial habit of his and one he would likely never overcome.
Yes, Clifford Steele had been replaced. In more ways than one.
At one side of the large room, Cliff noted Malcolm Duncan. The students of the Foundation were mostly split into two departments; science and the arts, with a light sprinkling of other academic fields for good measure. Mal, barely twenty years old, had been admitted to the program under the latter criteria. An aspiring film director, the young mister Duncan sported a creative mind that the staff would cultivate and nurture and allow to blossom. And with the equipment and funding provided here, he would flourish greatly.
Still, the arts weren't Malcolm's only passion. Tall with a large, muscular frame, Mal reminded Cliff of his younger days as an adrenaline junky. The youth always sought out physical activities and thrived on competition. A member of both the Baxter Building's track and wrestling teams - as the institute prided itself on having both healthy bodies in addition to keen minds - Mal had the spirit of a true athlete. Clifford could remember when, just four years ago, Mal had joined the Future Foundation and immediately made a name for himself both by winning that year's wrestling tournament as well as producing an award-winning short docu-film based on the rise of the modern 'superhero' and their place in the world.
Cliff had given the star student a standing ovation on both occasions.
Next to Mal, and currently sporting the former's arm draped around her shoulder, sat Karen Beecher, the other half of the Foundation's young power couple. She was about a foot shorter than her beau and very slim, with her dark hair cut into a bob. Unlike her boyfriend, Karen had gotten into the Foundation based on her sharp intellect. Cliff didn't understand what, exactly, it was she was working on, but he knew that her latest project had become the talk of the faculty.
On the complete opposite side of the cafeteria sat Wyatt Wingfoot. At thirty-one, he was about a decade younger than Clifford. Wyatt was six-foot with long black hair, classically handsome features, and a well-toned physique that clearly wasn't just for show.
He also happened to be Cliff's replacement.
Six years ago, prior to the incident, Cliff Steele had operated as the Future Foundation's head of security. He had been in his mid-thirties then and a well-known adventurer who had traversed the world from the Amazon Rainforest to the Himalayas and everywhere in between. He had swum, unprotected, with sharks and free-climbed mountains just for the sheer thrill of it. A born daredevil, Clifford had only accepted the position at the Baxter Building at the promise of being able to participate and lead the greatest, most dangerous expedition possible. He had been on the job for less than eight months before the mishap that left him in his current state.
Then, Wyatt came in, hired while Cliff was still in a coma as his body slowly deteriorated. The younger man had taken his old position and had even joined in on Cliff's new role. Several of the adventures the so-called Doom Patrol had gone on in recent years had had Wyatt Wingfoot as a willing and able participant. And, just two years ago, the new head of security had been instrumental in fending off an attack on the Baxter Building.
Clifford scanned Wyatt. Healthy, strong, dependable. And his replacement.
He knew it wasn't Wyatt's fault. He understood that the man had done nothing to wrong him, had only ever been friendly and supportive. But, still. Cliff had been replaced in more ways than one.
He noticed Wyatt taste a spoonful of stew before finally turning away. Cliff's optical sensors looked down to the empty table before him. No steaming, delicious broth. Not now. Not ever.
Cliff leaned forward and carefully rested his metallic elbows on the thin tabletop, making sure to hold most of his considerable weight off of the surface, and set his head between open palms. Truth be told, it was a vestigial gesture more than anything else. With his new body, there was no need to rest as there was no chance of fatigue.
New, he thought. It had been nearly a full six years since the accident that had left his former body mangled and beyond repair. Nearly a full six years since Victor Von Doom had made the decision to replace Cliff's biological form with that of one entirely composed of nanomachines - save his brain which had miraculously been intact. Nearly a full six years since Cliff Steele had become the Robotman.
He didn't blame Victor. He held no ill-will or resentment towards his teammate and friend. In fact, Cliff was grateful to Victor for saving his life. And yet...
Cliff sighed deeply. Or, rather, his synthetic voice box approximated the sound of a heavy exhalation. Another vestigial habit of his and one he would likely never overcome.
Yes, Clifford Steele had been replaced. In more ways than one.
First Doom Patrol will be postponed until tomorrow. I started it too late, which is entirely my bad. But it will be up tomorrow.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
V I C T O R V O N D O O M | S U E S T O R M | J O H N N Y S T O R M | C L I F F S T E E L E
A D V E N T U R E R S ♦ B A X T E R B U I L D I N G , N E W Y O R K ♦ F U T U R E F O U N D A T I O N
A D V E N T U R E R S ♦ B A X T E R B U I L D I N G , N E W Y O R K ♦ F U T U R E F O U N D A T I O N
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"Knowledge is power. In all the universe there is no greater truth."
The Baxter Building is home to the Future Foundation, an organization founded by Doctors Franklin Richards and Niles Caulder with the mandate to improve the world through knowledge. The Foundation boasts a varied staff from dozens of scientific, creative, and general academic fields. It also houses an extensive student roster of what the organization hopes will be a bright, new generation.
Six years ago, the Future Foundation's star students, Reed Richards and Victor Von Doom, designed a device capable of interdimensional travel. They, along with fellow students and siblings Sue and Johnny Storm, and accompanied by the head of security and noted adventurer Cliff Steele, intended to use the machine to open a doorway and explore the strange new world. A malfunction and catastrophic failure put an end to the test, though, as the five were dangerously shunted into the other dimension. Clifford was severely injured in the arrival, his body mangled by a dramatic fall, and a deadly race against the clock ensued as Victor tried to repair the device before their suits' emergency oxygen ran out.
Reed and Victor each accused the other of messing up the calculations and causing the malfunction, and the heated argument led to Reed walking away to clear his head. With little time left, and Victor rushing to fix the machine, the Storm siblings went off to find and return Reed to the group. All they found, though, was Reed's shattered helmet and a cosmic storm that swept over the pair. The siblings managed to barely escape from the storm and return to Victor just in time for the four of them to transport back to their home dimension, leaving the fate of Reed unknown.
Weeks of quarantine followed as the staff at the Baxter Building forced the trio of Victor, Sue, and Johnny to undergo extensive testing to ensure no hazardous material had made it back with them. Cliff, meanwhile, was put on life support as his body slowly failed. During quarantine, the Storm duo began to display extraordinary power, which only prompted further testing at the urging of their father.
Victor, released from quarantine before the others as he displayed no similar symptoms, and having reflected during his weeks of isolation, had taken personal responsibility for the dimensional mishap that had cost them both Reed and Cliff. Deciding that he couldn't allow his mistake to take the lives of two good men, Victor, with the aid of Dr. Caulder, began to work on a project to save Cliff's life. Though his body was failing, Cliff's brain was in-tact and healthy, and after weeks of careful designing Victor finally had the solution: nanobots. While he couldn't save Cliff's organic body, he could ensure the man would live by replacing it with a mechanical one.
More weeks passed. Cliff remained in a coma, his body slowly being dissolved and rebuilt by the nanobots. Victor spent the days at Cliff's bedside or going over the schematics for the dimensional portal and how to guarantee safety and success in the future. The Storms were finally freed from quarantine after the two months of testing proved they posed no inherent danger to themselves nor others. Sue, a gifted biologist, immediately took a fascination with how the cosmic storm had altered her and Johnny's genetic makeup, and set about feverishly studying her new biology. Johnny had also developed a fascination with the changes he had undergone, though for him it was pure excitement over his new capabilities - and his desire to show them off. The three tried to find a new routine of normal, with each failing in their respective ways.
Then, Hell broke loose. Or, more accurately, Subterranea. A disgruntled, former staff member of the Future Foundation, Harvey Elder, enacted an assault on the Baxter Building using an army of giant subterranean creatures he called Moloids. The attack nearly succeeded if not for the intervention of Sue and Johnny Storm, each wielding their respective new powers, the quick-thinking strategy of Victor, and the then-awakened Cliff Steele - now in his new robotic form. The foursome and their fantastical talents drove back the creatures and defeated Elder's plans.
With this success, Victor realized the potential the group could achieve given their newfound situation. Taking after the costumed adventurer's of old, Victor bestowed upon the fledgling team the title of:
Six years ago, the Future Foundation's star students, Reed Richards and Victor Von Doom, designed a device capable of interdimensional travel. They, along with fellow students and siblings Sue and Johnny Storm, and accompanied by the head of security and noted adventurer Cliff Steele, intended to use the machine to open a doorway and explore the strange new world. A malfunction and catastrophic failure put an end to the test, though, as the five were dangerously shunted into the other dimension. Clifford was severely injured in the arrival, his body mangled by a dramatic fall, and a deadly race against the clock ensued as Victor tried to repair the device before their suits' emergency oxygen ran out.
Reed and Victor each accused the other of messing up the calculations and causing the malfunction, and the heated argument led to Reed walking away to clear his head. With little time left, and Victor rushing to fix the machine, the Storm siblings went off to find and return Reed to the group. All they found, though, was Reed's shattered helmet and a cosmic storm that swept over the pair. The siblings managed to barely escape from the storm and return to Victor just in time for the four of them to transport back to their home dimension, leaving the fate of Reed unknown.
Weeks of quarantine followed as the staff at the Baxter Building forced the trio of Victor, Sue, and Johnny to undergo extensive testing to ensure no hazardous material had made it back with them. Cliff, meanwhile, was put on life support as his body slowly failed. During quarantine, the Storm duo began to display extraordinary power, which only prompted further testing at the urging of their father.
Victor, released from quarantine before the others as he displayed no similar symptoms, and having reflected during his weeks of isolation, had taken personal responsibility for the dimensional mishap that had cost them both Reed and Cliff. Deciding that he couldn't allow his mistake to take the lives of two good men, Victor, with the aid of Dr. Caulder, began to work on a project to save Cliff's life. Though his body was failing, Cliff's brain was in-tact and healthy, and after weeks of careful designing Victor finally had the solution: nanobots. While he couldn't save Cliff's organic body, he could ensure the man would live by replacing it with a mechanical one.
More weeks passed. Cliff remained in a coma, his body slowly being dissolved and rebuilt by the nanobots. Victor spent the days at Cliff's bedside or going over the schematics for the dimensional portal and how to guarantee safety and success in the future. The Storms were finally freed from quarantine after the two months of testing proved they posed no inherent danger to themselves nor others. Sue, a gifted biologist, immediately took a fascination with how the cosmic storm had altered her and Johnny's genetic makeup, and set about feverishly studying her new biology. Johnny had also developed a fascination with the changes he had undergone, though for him it was pure excitement over his new capabilities - and his desire to show them off. The three tried to find a new routine of normal, with each failing in their respective ways.
Then, Hell broke loose. Or, more accurately, Subterranea. A disgruntled, former staff member of the Future Foundation, Harvey Elder, enacted an assault on the Baxter Building using an army of giant subterranean creatures he called Moloids. The attack nearly succeeded if not for the intervention of Sue and Johnny Storm, each wielding their respective new powers, the quick-thinking strategy of Victor, and the then-awakened Cliff Steele - now in his new robotic form. The foursome and their fantastical talents drove back the creatures and defeated Elder's plans.
With this success, Victor realized the potential the group could achieve given their newfound situation. Taking after the costumed adventurer's of old, Victor bestowed upon the fledgling team the title of:
Doom Patrol.
C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
Mister Fantastic and the Fantastic Four are overrated. Doctor Doom and the Doom Patrol, though? Perfection. I really don't think I need to say any more about why I'm motivated to write this.
This is a group that has been around for years and has multiple adventures under their belt. They've been to Atlantis, visited Attilan, explored the Negative Zone, entered the Microverse, delved into Subterranea, and emersed themselves in Avalon. They've tangled with the likes of Blastaar and Annihilus while in the N-Zone. They've survived political upheavals and prevented the assassination of an Inhuman King. They've helped to fight off an alien invasion force that threatened New York City. And they've even dealt with the return of Reed Richards, maddened by his time in the Negative Zone, and prevented his homicidal revenge plots on several occasions. As such, they're a cohesive unit that has settled into their respective roles.
Like the Fantastic Four of the mainstream universe, this Doom Patrol is a dysfunctional family. And I'll be exploring their interpersonal dynamics just as much as I do their wacky adventures. And their zany escapades are a perfect vehicle for me to interact with the rest of the roster - which is my primary goal for this roleplay.
This is a group that has been around for years and has multiple adventures under their belt. They've been to Atlantis, visited Attilan, explored the Negative Zone, entered the Microverse, delved into Subterranea, and emersed themselves in Avalon. They've tangled with the likes of Blastaar and Annihilus while in the N-Zone. They've survived political upheavals and prevented the assassination of an Inhuman King. They've helped to fight off an alien invasion force that threatened New York City. And they've even dealt with the return of Reed Richards, maddened by his time in the Negative Zone, and prevented his homicidal revenge plots on several occasions. As such, they're a cohesive unit that has settled into their respective roles.
Like the Fantastic Four of the mainstream universe, this Doom Patrol is a dysfunctional family. And I'll be exploring their interpersonal dynamics just as much as I do their wacky adventures. And their zany escapades are a perfect vehicle for me to interact with the rest of the roster - which is my primary goal for this roleplay.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
The Future Foundation is home to many brilliant minds. From founders Franklin Richards and Niles Caulder to senior staff members Will Magnus, Steve Dayton, and Phillip Masters. Their student roster includes the likes of Mal Duncan, Karen Beecher, Julie and Alex Power, Rita Farr, Bentley Wittman, and Alicia Masters.
I'm not going to go through the entire list of enemies and allies faced and encountered, instead I'll save that to be revealed in the IC. You can infer from the places the Doom Patrol have explored who they might have met (also keeping it vague so that it doesn't affect potential Inhuman, Atlantis, etc. players). But I will describe the team's archnemesis:
Reed Richards was lost to the world for four months. That's how long it took for the survivors of the Negative Zone incident to exit quarantine, and for Victor to design a new, stable device for them to use to return to that dimension and attempt to rescue Richards or find his remains. However, time doesn't pass in the Negative Zone as it does on Earth, and for Reed Richards nearly three hundred years had passed. Thankfully, the same cosmic storm that had changed Sue and Johnny Storm bestowed upon Reed a genetic alteration as well. Not only was his body now capable of stretching, expanding, and contracting dramatically, but all of his internal organs, veins, and the like had been replaced by a singular bacteria sac. As such, he no longer needed to eat, drink, or breathe. Nor did he age as a human ought to. These changes saved Richards' life and allowed him to survive in the harsh landscape and acidic atmosphere of the Negative Zone for centuries. This gave him a lot of time to think. And stew. And cast blame.
When the newly established Doom Patrol returned to the N-Zone they were able to successfully find and rescue their old friend. They soon found out, though, that the man they had left behind was not the same as the one they now brought back to Earth. Reed Richards wrought psychological Hell upon them as he, while quarantined and under near-constant supervision, managed to sow discord among the Doom Patrol as well as access the Future Foundation's security system and use it to attempt several deadly 'accidents' for which he framed Victor. It took days to discover Reed's actions, and by then it was too late as he managed to escape his quarantine pod and set off a series of chain-reactions within the building that destroyed a significant portion of the laboratories, decimating crucial projects, and killing three staff members.
Reed would return several more times in various attempts at revenge through masterfully-crafted plots. As of late, the former friend turned arch-nemesis, now known as the Maker, takes refuge in the European nation of Latveria where he has formed a partnership with the country's ruler, Kristoff Vernard.
I'm not going to go through the entire list of enemies and allies faced and encountered, instead I'll save that to be revealed in the IC. You can infer from the places the Doom Patrol have explored who they might have met (also keeping it vague so that it doesn't affect potential Inhuman, Atlantis, etc. players). But I will describe the team's archnemesis:
Reed Richards was lost to the world for four months. That's how long it took for the survivors of the Negative Zone incident to exit quarantine, and for Victor to design a new, stable device for them to use to return to that dimension and attempt to rescue Richards or find his remains. However, time doesn't pass in the Negative Zone as it does on Earth, and for Reed Richards nearly three hundred years had passed. Thankfully, the same cosmic storm that had changed Sue and Johnny Storm bestowed upon Reed a genetic alteration as well. Not only was his body now capable of stretching, expanding, and contracting dramatically, but all of his internal organs, veins, and the like had been replaced by a singular bacteria sac. As such, he no longer needed to eat, drink, or breathe. Nor did he age as a human ought to. These changes saved Richards' life and allowed him to survive in the harsh landscape and acidic atmosphere of the Negative Zone for centuries. This gave him a lot of time to think. And stew. And cast blame.
When the newly established Doom Patrol returned to the N-Zone they were able to successfully find and rescue their old friend. They soon found out, though, that the man they had left behind was not the same as the one they now brought back to Earth. Reed Richards wrought psychological Hell upon them as he, while quarantined and under near-constant supervision, managed to sow discord among the Doom Patrol as well as access the Future Foundation's security system and use it to attempt several deadly 'accidents' for which he framed Victor. It took days to discover Reed's actions, and by then it was too late as he managed to escape his quarantine pod and set off a series of chain-reactions within the building that destroyed a significant portion of the laboratories, decimating crucial projects, and killing three staff members.
Reed would return several more times in various attempts at revenge through masterfully-crafted plots. As of late, the former friend turned arch-nemesis, now known as the Maker, takes refuge in the European nation of Latveria where he has formed a partnership with the country's ruler, Kristoff Vernard.
S A M P L E P O S T:
The world was a kaleidoscope.
That was the first thought Susan Storm had as she looked out the viewports. Brilliant colors swirled and briefly formed into fractals before flashing by. Euclidean space seemed to give way to the abstract the deeper she and her fellow passengers hurtled into the unknown.
The sleek vessel she now stood upon, with its chrome interior and deceptively minimalist accommodations, shielded the blonde-haired scientist from the terrors outside. That same beautiful incandescence of colors, she knew, would tear her body into a billion separate atoms in less than a thousandth of a second. After all, the Microverse was not to be trifled with.
"It's terrifying." She spoke towards the transparent cockpit but her words were meant for another.
A man, tall with a handsome face, stepped up beside her and placed an arm around her shoulder. "It's wonderful, Susan," he corrected in his slight European accent.
Sue Storm smiled softly. She knew after all this time better than to try and convince Victor Von Doom otherwise. As much as he was a man of science, capable of clinically detached observation, he was also an artist. And to Victor, there was no better expression of art than that of discovery and innovation.
To borrow the words of another famed voyager, "to boldly go where no man has gone before!" That was Victor's drive in life. His passion.
She tilted her face towards his and raised on her tiptoes. Susan planted a gentle, lingering kiss against Victor's lips.
Though it was not his only passion.
That was the first thought Susan Storm had as she looked out the viewports. Brilliant colors swirled and briefly formed into fractals before flashing by. Euclidean space seemed to give way to the abstract the deeper she and her fellow passengers hurtled into the unknown.
The sleek vessel she now stood upon, with its chrome interior and deceptively minimalist accommodations, shielded the blonde-haired scientist from the terrors outside. That same beautiful incandescence of colors, she knew, would tear her body into a billion separate atoms in less than a thousandth of a second. After all, the Microverse was not to be trifled with.
"It's terrifying." She spoke towards the transparent cockpit but her words were meant for another.
A man, tall with a handsome face, stepped up beside her and placed an arm around her shoulder. "It's wonderful, Susan," he corrected in his slight European accent.
Sue Storm smiled softly. She knew after all this time better than to try and convince Victor Von Doom otherwise. As much as he was a man of science, capable of clinically detached observation, he was also an artist. And to Victor, there was no better expression of art than that of discovery and innovation.
To borrow the words of another famed voyager, "to boldly go where no man has gone before!" That was Victor's drive in life. His passion.
She tilted her face towards his and raised on her tiptoes. Susan planted a gentle, lingering kiss against Victor's lips.
Though it was not his only passion.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
WIP
Just an FYI as to why I haven't posted IC yet. I'm waiting until I finish work for the week and can sit down to relax. Right now when I get home from work I have a dozen other things to take care of before I need to get some sleep.
So, the first post will be up anywhere from Friday-Sunday.
So, the first post will be up anywhere from Friday-Sunday.
<Snipped quote by Retired>
So they're more Heroes than Adventurers? Trying to get a good grasp on things.
Little of column A, lotta column B. They're adventurers, but in the modern world that often means adventures with superheroics involved.
But interaction doesn't necessarily mean fighting off costumed bad guys. A trip to Asgard? That's adventure. To Wakanda? Adventure. Into space where they get pulled over by an intergalactic cop with a ring? Adventure.
Plus, GM events and crises.
<Snipped quote by Byrd Man>
Does Howard sell whole universe insurance?
... That's retroactive?
And brings all of your loved ones back?
Asking for a friend.
The Infinity Gems do. It's as easy as a snap of your fingers.
So I'm going to start using the OOC more for planning and whatnot, a lot is said in the Discord and it's hard for me to keep track (and I know sometimes I can be part of the problem there).
So, is there anyone out there who wishes to have some kind of history/prior meeting with the Mighty Thor?
If accepted, the way I'm using the Fantastic Four Doom Patrol allows them to have met and to be able to interact with just about anyone and everyone. Including the Thunderer.
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