Supermaxx

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

@SupermaxxFUCK. I was finishing my wally sheet today. Welp.... we used the same picture and nearly same concept.

@Taka

Gotta be quicker than that hehehe

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

Back in a...

F L A S H
F L A S H

^{"Let's make this quick...Ha. Get it?"}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ Wallace Rudolph West _________________________________________________________ 18 | Single _________________________________________________________ Justice League (formerly) | American N O T A B L E A B I L I T I E S & T O O L S N O T A B L E A B I L I T I E S & T O O L S _________________________________________________________ [+] - A B I L I T I E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Speedforce Conduit Doused in strange chemicals and struck by a bolt of lightning, Wally West transformed from an ordinary teenager to an avatar of a fundamental force of creation. It is momentum. It pushes time and space forward. Without it, reality as we understand it could not exist. It is the Speedforce: an unexplainable cosmic phenomena that stretches across universes. Wally West can feel a connection to other speedsters through the Speedforce- he can even hear their voices, on occasion- but he is too inexperienced with his abilities to reach out. ◼ Superhuman Speed The principle power gifted to the Flash by the Speedforce is in its name: speed. When he channels the force everyone else might as well be standing still. He can count the wing beats of a hummingbird. Bullets fly at a snail's pace. Only a few beings have ever been able to keep up with him, and none so far have outpaced him. Fast as Wally is, though, he knows the consequences of complacence. ◼ Speedforce Aura The 'aura' is an invisible field of energy drawing power from the Speedforce. It surrounds Wally's body, insulating him from friction, and manipulating sound and oxygen to function for him even at enormously hypersonic speeds. Kinetic energy passing into his body is also lessened, so as to stop him from shattering into pieces if he trips and flies into a wall at Mach 150. His subconscious is largely responsible for dictating what his aura filters and what it lets through; he understands but a fraction of its potential. - T O O L (S) ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Costume Ring Wally stores his costume inside a ring. The costume is compressed to fit inside thanks to metamaterials created by StarLabs, Barry Allen's employer on their old earth. The costume itself is durable, and designed to be repaired using almost any material. This 'smart clothing' transforms the attached material into more of itself. - A L L I E S & A N T A G O N I S T S A L L I E S & A N T A G O N I S T S _________________________________________________________ [+] - A L L I E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Harrison Wells - StarLabs Physicist ◼ Iris West - Reporter, Aunt ◼ Barry Allen - Forensic Scientist, Uncle ◼ Rudolph West - U.S Army Colonel, Father ◼ Wally West -Student, The Real One ◼ Linda Park - Student, Friend A N T A G O N I S T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ The Black Racer ◼ Eobard Thawne AKA Professor Zoom, the Reverse-Flash ◼ Leonard Snart AKA Captain Cold ◼ Mick Rory AKA Heatwave ◼ Digger Harkness AKA Captain Boomerang ◼ Evan McCulloch AKA Mirror Master ◼ Mark Madon AKA Weather Wizard - - P O S T C A T A L O G U E P O S T C A T A L O G U E _________________________________________________________ 001 - Wrong Turn at the Last Dimension

T H E S T O R Y S O F A R... T H E S T O R Y S O F A R... __________________________________________________________________________________ Wally West is the nephew of Iris West, better known to the world as THE FLASH. Wally watched her die on national news when the Silver Surfer, the Herald of Darkseid, drove his fist through her heart. Boom tubes opened across the sky, and armies of parademons descended upon the world. The streets of Central City ran red. Wally couldn't just stand by and watch the world end. He sought out Harrison Wells, a verifiable genius and Iris's former mentor. Wally had a plan. A stupid, dangerous plan. Dr. Wells stood strongly opposed to it even as he strapped Wally to the very same chair Iris West had sat in before her accident. Within the walls of StarLabs, West and Wells replicated the event down to the smallest possible detail. It should've killed him. Instead, it connected him to the Speedforce. It transformed his every molecule into the perfect conduit for that cosmic power. Donning a version of his aunt's costume, Wally joined what heroes still lived in fighting for their world. Superman. Spider-Woman. Thor. Big Barda. Vigilante. They were a strange, eclectic bunch, but they were earth's last line of defense. They were the JUSTICE LEAGUE. They fought the good fight. Defeated the Herald, and brought the armies of darkness to their knees. But when Darkseid stepped down from his throne, the Justice League failed. Those that did not fall to the corruption of the Lord of Apokolips died at his hands. The Flash was the lone survivor of that fateful, final battle- because he ran. He was only a teenager then. A child thrown into an impossible situation and asked to rise to the challenge. He didn't. He ran. Pain, sorrow and guilt rushed down to his very marrow. That cocktail of emotion fueled him as he ran and ran, gaining more speed than he could have possibly imagined. The Speedforce knew this was wrong. This was not the outcome ordained by fate. It carried Wally away. In a burst of impossible speed, it shunted him out of his doomed universe and into this one. A shadow followed him through the Speedforce. It harrows his every step, taking the forms his guilty conscious most fears. It is judgement given form. It is death, black as midnight, and it will not rest until it finally catches up to him. Here, in this new world, he's found a paradise. Everyone he once knew still lived and breathed. There was no alien conqueror looming on the horizon. It was a young earth full of heroes, full of potential. Wally knew this was his only chance to start over. He intends to make things right, if he can. To find those he hurt in his world and ensure they had a better future in this one. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) ________________________________________________________________________________________ I'm looking to apply for Wally West for a few reasons. Firstly, I wanted to write a second character that is as stark a contrast to Frank Castle as possible. Wally is young, joyful and driven to do genuine good. Even if his life is defined by tragedy, he strives to use his powers to help others. Its an archetype I enjoy, and I think Wally's quippy, lighthearted personality will be a nice break from the dourness of Punisher. Secondly, I want to hearken back to one of my favorite runs from yesteryear, Sep's Iris West from Ultimate One. I really enjoyed his spin on the Flash mythos, and when I was mulling over how I wanted to play Wally, Sep's old run was the first thing that came to mind. Wally being the successor to that universe's Flash has a few advantages, in my opinion. With Barry, his and Wally's relationship deepened when Wally became Barry's sidekick. Wally got to learn how to be the Flash by working side by side with Barry for years before donning in the costume. Here, though? Iris is dead and a world away. He bears the responsibility of legacy without having an experienced Flash to lean on. They're flesh and blood. Losing her impacted him to his core. Since his arrival in our universe, Wally has tried to find a place for himself. He's desperate to make connections to this world's versions of his own family. There's one small problem, however: this world has its own Wally West. He's an ordinary high school senior preparing for university. Pretending to be this Wally so he can spend time with Iris and Barry has proved...challenging.

---

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

_{PUNISHER: WAR JOURNAL}

CHAPTER #3: Burning Rubber

---

_{St. George, Staten Island ♦ New York City}

^{Ooh, see the fire is sweepin'
Our very street today
Burns like a red coal carpet
Mad bull lost your way}

I stumbled into the back alley where I'd left the van. Couldn't see shit through the sweat and blood dripping down my face, so I followed my memory. Fell over a pile of garbage bags, but I managed to find the door. Yanking it open, I knew there was a medkit under the driver side chair. Inside were six patches shaped like disks lying atop a layer of gauze. A plastic film covered each disk. I tore off the film, and placed the first disk flat against my forehead.

The tech whirred to life. Micro said it was some kind of StarLabs wonder gadget. Nanites or smart particles- one of those made up words smart people used to describe their newest bullshit. The thing worked, though. I could feel the skin in my forehead stiffen as the patch stitched the hole in my head closed.

I used a discarded rag in the wheel well of the van to clean my face enough to actually fucking see.

Made it easier to find which syringe would dull the pain and which would pump me full of adrenaline. After debating which I needed more, I settled on both. Fatigue smacked me like a freight train. My brain dropped down into my throat, and everything went dark for a moment. Then it lit up like a Christmas tree as the stimulant hit. Every part of my body shook for a good few minutes before settling into the routine numb of chemically-aided satisfaction I'd come to expect.

Bring my right foot up, I started to climb into the van.

"Micro, gimme an update on those clowns. How far have they- AAGHH! Shit!" I sunk my teeth into my tongue as I fell backward, slamming my back into a nearby dumpster. Pain shot through my leg like I couldn't believe. Only then did I remember: oh, yeah, I got shot, didn't I?

Micro's frantic voice buzzed in my ear. "Frank? Frank, are you okay? What happened?"

"Shut up." I batted away with concern. Didn't need a nanny looking out for me. I needed intel. Plus, if I'm honest? I was a little embarrassed. Didn't need Lieberman knowing I was actually a certified dumbass. "Just tell me where Bruno went."

After carefully applying a second patch to the hole in my thigh, I climbed up into the van. The laptop mounted on the center console clicked on, showcasing a map of Staten Island. A smattering of red dots representing tracked phones were flying down side streets southward into Tompkinsville. They were all traveling in a line and they were moving quick, but the further away they got, the slower they started moving. Go too fast and they'd be stopped by the cops, and they'd be hard pressed to explain all the gunshot wounds and bullet holes in their cars.

The van's engine roared to life. I swerved out of the alley and accelerated down the road. If I burned rubber and Micro kept the streets clear I might be able to catch up to these bozos. My guardian angel made sure every light I passed turned green, and my query was plagued by every demon of the traffic world he could summon.

Lieberman sure did make my job easier. I never told him how much I appreciated having my very own wizard on speed dial. I should have. He was the only friend I had after...after Central Park. He knew what happened to Maria and the kids. He knew, and he dedicated all he had to helping me kill the bastards responsible. And I never gave him so much as a thank you.

"They're leaving Tompkinsville on Van Duzer. I think they're going for the interstate, Frank."

"Which means they could end up anywhere in New York." I grunted. "Great."

"No need to rush. I have their license plates and every traffic camera in the city. Even if they dump their phones, I can find them again."

The van rumbled along at a snail's pace. His armored behemoth had never been intended for car chases. It was a fortress on wheels- a battering ram I could drive straight through a building without stopping. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles turned bone white. Try as I did to slow my breathing, I couldn't. The drugs were making my foot bounce. Tightened the muscles in my arms into coiled snakes.

I couldn't let these bastards get away. The Costa family were a festering wound in this city's underbelly. Their drugs tore apart families. Filled rehab centers with broken dreams and regret. Put kids into the morgue. Not to mention all the people they disappeared to keep business booming.

This started because of the G-Men, but the warpath had many branches. There were monsters down every road. Nobody did a damn thing to stop them, either. The cops and the DA's office were either apathetic or in on the joke, I didn't know which. And it didn't matter. I'd do the job none of them could.

Every body I put in the ground was just a drop on the rainstorm, but it was a drop that wouldn't fall on anyone's head ever again.

"I see them."

They were far ahead of me. I could barely make out the color and make of the rear vehicle in their convoy, but the GPS confirmed it. There they were. Peddle to the metal, I veered into oncoming traffic like an idiot possessed. It let me shoot past the civilians driving ahead of me. The driver in the left lane slammed on their breaks and pulled over onto the sidewalk. They hit a light post, but the damage looked minimal. I was lucky nobody died.

Now I was coming up on the Lincoln Continental. It was Scotti's. I could see his red curls in the back seat.

"They're looking at you, too-" Micro warned a second before Matthew Skinner leaned out of the driver side window with a MAC-10 in his hand. He fired a wild burst into the front of the van, barely scratching the paint. Nothing these guys had would even damage my front windshield. I kept accelerating. Once I was close enough, I could run the scumbags off the road.

"Careful!" Micro yelled, his microphone peaking. "Those are houses on either side of the street, man. You don't want a shootout here."

"I know what I'm doing." I gritted my teeth, too stubborn to listen. I thought I knew better. I'd been to war. Been fighting my entire life. I thought I could keep control over the situation.

I pulled up until my bumper rammed into the back of the continental's. Rolled the window down, even as bullets pinged off right past my ear. I unholstered the sidearm on my hip, waiting for Skinner to stop shooting.

"Take a nap, Skinner!" I yelled over the roar of the wind. I leaned out long enough to put a single bullet behind his ear. The hollow point round expanded as it broke Skinner's skull open. Blood and brain matter followed the bullet out through the front of the driver's face. His lifeless body collapsed against the steering wheel, sending the car careening to the left.

Fast as I could, I got up next to the out of control car, and shoved the corner of my front bumper into the continental's rear. It started to spin. The van's massive, armored hide absorbed the hit and kept the car from tearing into oncoming traffic. Instead, it rolled to the right. It went top over bottom three times before smashing into a car parked in front of a two story duplex. Metal screamed as both frames crunched together into a broken mass of glass and steel.

"Frank..." Micro didn't deliver the lecture I expected. He only sighed.

"Get a drone on that car. If Scotti's alive and attempts to flee, I wanna know." I ordered, then I pressed on. My real target had kept his flight when Skinner and Scotti went down. Bruno's limousine trundled along even slower than my battle van, but he had a solid head start. His limo charged through a gas station parking lot, knocking over a bystander and nearly killing him as it exited off Richmond and onto the interstate.

"Contacting EMS." Lieberman mumbled.

"They'll send cops."

"The dude just got hit and run, man. He needs paramedics."

"I..." I swallowed my pride and let it go. "Fine. Just downplay the details and divert patrol officers."

I followed Bruno onto the on-ramp, swerving past a minivan to catch up to him. His gaudy, cream-colored Cadillac looked like something a president should've ridden in. Two other cars flanked the limo, and a third led the way. No one had started shooting at him yet.

Since I had a moment, I checked my surroundings on the approach. Limited number of civilian vehicles in the area. Given the time of night and the obvious aggression of Bruno's entourage, people were cautious. Slowing down. Good. Meant less chance of crossfire when this came down to a firefight. No sign of the red and blues yet either. Police response time in New York City averaged around fifteen minutes. Specifics varied on the borough and the severity of the crime.

The van thundered on. It pulled up right behind the limo. The two escorts collapsed back, matching me on either side. Passengers with machine pistols and shotguns popped out of their windows. They unleashed a hail of led against the the van, but I paid them no mind. I just rolled my window up. It was six inches of Ballistic glass and Aluminium oxynitride. Nothing short of a .50 was getting through that.

With the flick of a switch, the bull bar on the front of the van folded open. I took a few seconds to align the center of the van with one of the limo's rear tires, then flicked a second switch. A nylon net shot out of the front of the bumper, wrapping itself around the tire. I slammed the breaks. Tires screeched as the weight of the van fought to suspend the speed of the Cadillac. Smoke billowed as the two vehicles fought for control. The limo gave way first. Its axle snapped in two, and the car leapt forward another ten yards, tireles rear scrapping against the asphalt before it came to a halt.

The Maggia security detail whipped their cars around to form a barricade around Bruno's broken ride. They dismounted, stacking up behind the engine blocks of their vehicles for cover. None of them were wielding revolvers anymore. In their fists they held automatic weapons, machine pistols and shotguns. A cold wind blew over the highway. It carried the stench of burnt rubber and gasoline.

Civilian cars screeched to a stop as they approached and noticed the chaos. Those that didn't backup quick enough were greeted by a spray of automatic fire from Costa's men.

My hand hovered over the console. Every switch had a different label: Turret. Flamethrower. Grenades. Spike traps. I passed over those to the last in the line, and flicked it.

Through the windshield, I watched a pair of grenade launchers pop out of hidden compartments on the hood. They launched canisters into the road between the van and Bruno's soldiers. A low hiss sounded as smoke poured out over the roadway, filling it like a passing fog.

I stood from the driver seat. Made my way to the back of the van where I stored all my goodies. I had an armory here, years in the making. Every weapon I could ever want sat in cages mounted on the walls. My eyes darted to an old M240. A Catholic cross and rosary wrapped around the end of the barrel.

^{War, children, it's just a shot away
Just a shot away
Just a shot away}

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

Quite a few stories I've really been enjoying. It's bittersweet that @Half Pint is hanging up the cape and cowl because I've been enjoying the reimagined Burtonverse Batman but I'm also really excited for this new Fantastic Four. I'm assuming the Batman story was heading towards a Two-Face origin story and all the fun that comes with that, so it would have been good to see that play out but I also understand how sometimes you get a couple posts in and find out its not your preferred fit.

@Master Bruce's Spider-Man and @Bounce's Aquaboy have both been a lot of fun to read, with snappy dialogue and a good pace. I'm definitely looking forward to seeing more of both of those.

@Cyrania's Martian Manhunter has been pretty solid so far, though I am intrigued to see where it goes. Not usually a character I'd give a second thought to, so kudos for making me care about Martians.

I've also found myself thoroughly enjoying @King Kindred's teenage Thor and look forward to more of the mythical side being explored, along with Thor's heritage and coming to realize who he truly is.

@Ezekiel's Warbird, @Supermaxx's Punisher, @Sep's BB & Nova, and @Roman's Constantine are all off to a very strong start. If you haven't taken the time to read them yet, I suggest you do.

Couple who haven't posted yet but I'm looking forward to reading are @Hound55's Captain America and @Hillan's Orion. I'm very intrigued by both sheets and know the capabilities of both writers, so I look forward to seeing what they're cooking up.

@Lord Wraith

I'm really intrigued by the story line you're building about the Kryptonians. Them being this race of ancient, terrifying conquerors is a fun take. Seeing Clark politely interacting with a bunch of unhinged aliens in Knowhere has been fun.

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

Ugh @Supermaxx is doing a thing that makes me feel like I should be more involved.

@Sep

that's what I'm here for babeeeey

Superboy's Shitty Characters

F L A S H
F L A S H

^{"Let's make this quick...Get it?"}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ Wallace Rudolph West _________________________________________________________ 18 | Single _________________________________________________________ Justice League (formerly) | American N O T A B L E A B I L I T I E S & T O O L S N O T A B L E A B I L I T I E S & T O O L S _________________________________________________________ [+] - A B I L I T I E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Speedforce Conduit Doused in strange chemicals and struck by a bolt of lightning, Wally West transformed from an ordinary teenager to an avatar of a fundamental force of creation. It is momentum. It pushes time and space forward. Without it, reality as we understand it could not exist. It is the Speedforce: an unexplainable cosmic phenomena that stretches across universes. Wally West can feel a connection to other speedsters through the Speedforce- he can even hear their voices, on occasion- but he is too inexperienced with his abilities to reach out. ◼ Superhuman Speed The principle power gifted to the Flash by the Speedforce is in its name: speed. When he channels the force everyone else might as well be standing still. He can count the wing beats of a hummingbird. Bullets fly at a snail's pace. Only a few beings have ever been able to keep up with him, and none so far have outpaced him. Fast as Wally is, though, he knows the consequences of complacence. ◼ Speedforce Aura The 'aura' is an invisible field of energy drawing power from the Speedforce. It surrounds Wally's body, insulating him from friction, and manipulating sound and oxygen to function for him even at enormously hypersonic speeds. Kinetic energy passing into his body is also lessened, so as to stop him from shattering into pieces if he trips and flies into a wall at Mach 150. His subconscious is largely responsible for dictating what his aura filters and what it lets through; he understands but a fraction of its potential. - T O O L (S) ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Costume Ring Wally stores his costume inside a ring. The costume is compressed to fit inside thanks to metamaterials created by StarLabs, Barry Allen's employer on their old earth. The costume itself is durable, and designed to be repaired using almost any material. This 'smart clothing' transforms the attached material into more of itself. - A L L I E S & A N T A G O N I S T S A L L I E S & A N T A G O N I S T S _________________________________________________________ [+] - A L L I E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Harrison Wells - StarLabs Physicist ◼ Iris West - Reporter, Aunt ◼ Barry Allen - Forensic Scientist, Uncle ◼ Rudolph West - U.S Army Colonel, Father ◼ Wally West -Student, The Real One ◼ Linda Park - Student, Friend A N T A G O N I S T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ The Black Racer ◼ Eobard Thawne AKA Professor Zoom, the Reverse-Flash ◼ Leonard Snart AKA Captain Cold ◼ Mick Rory AKA Heatwave ◼ Digger Harkness AKA Captain Boomerang ◼ Evan McCulloch AKA Mirror Master ◼ Mark Madon AKA Weather Wizard - - P O S T C A T A L O G U E P O S T C A T A L O G U E _________________________________________________________ 001 - Wrong Turn at the Last Dimension

T H E S T O R Y S O F A R... T H E S T O R Y S O F A R... __________________________________________________________________________________ Wally West is the nephew of Iris West, better known to the world as THE FLASH. Wally watched her die on national news when the Silver Surfer, the Herald of Darkseid, drove his fist through her heart. Boom tubes opened across the sky, and armies of parademons descended upon the world. The streets of Central City ran red. Wally couldn't just stand by and watch the world end. He sought out Harrison Wells, a verifiable genius and Iris's former mentor. Wally had a plan. A stupid, dangerous plan. Dr. Wells stood strongly opposed to it even as he strapped Wally to the very same chair Iris West had sat in before her accident. Within the walls of StarLabs, West and Wells replicated the event down to the smallest possible detail. It should've killed him. Instead, it connected him to the Speedforce. It transformed his every molecule into the perfect conduit for that cosmic power. Donning a version of his aunt's costume, Wally joined what heroes still lived in fighting for their world. Superman. Spider-Woman. Thor. Big Barda. Vigilante. They were a strange, eclectic bunch, but they were earth's last line of defense. They were the JUSTICE LEAGUE. They fought the good fight. Defeated the Herald, and brought the armies of darkness to their knees. But when Darkseid stepped down from his throne, the Justice League failed. Those that did not fall to the corruption of the Lord of Apokolips died at his hands. The Flash was the lone survivor of that fateful, final battle- because he ran. He was only a teenager then. A child thrown into an impossible situation and asked to rise to the challenge. He didn't. He ran. Pain, sorrow and guilt rushed down to his very marrow. That cocktail of emotion fueled him as he ran and ran, gaining more speed than he could have possibly imagined. The Speedforce knew this was wrong. This was not the outcome ordained by fate. It carried Wally away. In a burst of impossible speed, it shunted him out of his doomed universe and into this one. A shadow followed him through the Speedforce. It harrows his every step, taking the forms his guilty conscious most fears. It is judgement given form. It is death, black as midnight, and it will not rest until it finally catches up to him. Here, in this new world, he's found a paradise. Everyone he once knew still lived and breathed. There was no alien conqueror looming on the horizon. It was a young earth full of heroes, full of potential. Wally knew this was his only chance to start over. He intends to make things right, if he can. To find those he hurt in his world and ensure they had a better future in this one. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) ________________________________________________________________________________________ I'm looking to apply for Wally West for a few reasons. Firstly, I wanted to write a second character that is as stark a contrast to Frank Castle as possible. Wally is young, joyful and driven to do genuine good. Even if his life is defined by tragedy, he strives to use his powers to help others. Its an archetype I enjoy, and I think Wally's quippy, lighthearted personality will be a nice break from the dourness of Punisher. Secondly, I want to hearken back to one of my favorite runs from yesteryear, Sep's Iris West from Ultimate One. I really enjoyed his spin on the Flash mythos, and when I was mulling over how I wanted to play Wally, Sep's old run was the first thing that came to mind. Wally being the successor to that universe's Flash has a few advantages, in my opinion. With Barry, his and Wally's relationship deepened when Wally became Barry's sidekick. Wally got to learn how to be the Flash by working side by side with Barry for years before donning in the costume. Here, though? Iris is dead and a world away. He bears the responsibility of legacy without having an experienced Flash to lean on. They're flesh and blood. Losing her impacted him to his core. Since his arrival in our universe, Wally has tried to find a place for himself. He's desperate to make connections to this world's versions of his own family. There's one small problem, however: this world has its own Wally West. He's an ordinary high school senior preparing for university. Pretending to be this Wally so he can spend time with Iris and Barry has proved...challenging.

---

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

Welcome to Middle School Monday.

We need some weekend posters to avoid me double posting in the IC :P

MINI-EVENT: NEW YORK

^{@Cyrania @Master Bruce}

My post sets up our first mini-event for Worlds Collide, which will be based in Marvel's favorite city

For those who want a read-ahead:

Brief Synopsis

Fire Trolls attack New York, coming out of the sea in pursuit of young Arthur Curry. Heroes of every level will be required to take on the threat posed by the Fire Trolls themselves, as well as the collateral damage they cause that endangers ordinary New Yorkers (fires, collapsing buildings, etc). And obviously Arthur's in the role of our damsel in distress.

The event will kick off with the next Middle School Monday (Oct. 20th).

Interested participants, just tag me to let me know if you'd like to participate so I can start to formulate a plan around the size of the group we have. I tagged Cyrania and MB because we've discussed this in the OOC previously, but its open to anyone.

@Bounce

Definitely tempted. Will need to mull over a reason for Frank 'convicted murderer' Castle to get involved.

Pariah Online

@Supermaxx

just going to quote myself instead of reposting it.

DATABASE LIVIN IN THE DATABASE O-OOOH

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

<Snipped quote by Sep>

God knows someone has to.

@Roman

Patiently waiting for the first issue of Hellblazer to hit my feed

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

_{PUNISHER: WAR JOURNAL}

CHAPTER #2: Welcome Home, Frank

---

_{St. George, Staten Island ♦ New York City}

^{War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away}

October 16th. 2025. Wind howls off the bay and through North Shore. A '64 Lincoln Continental parked outside a rundown apartment building. An expensive car in a shitty neighborhood. Two men climbed out of the front. Both wore long, wool coats over dark suits. The driver tried to look casual as he posted up on the sidewalk, head on a swivel. His buddy opened the back passenger door.

Their boss climbed out. Mark Scotti, a capo in the Costa crime family. He wore a white suit over a slightly different shade of white shirt. A mop of curly red hair covered his pin-shaped head. His long, thin face was covered in freckles- and fresh bruises. His head jumped around. Down the street, up the rooftops, back to the street.

"Lets go, Mr. Scotti." The guard motioned, and the capo followed. They made their way to the front door of the building. The bottom floor was occupied by a grimy looking storefront. 'Winning Deli - Market & Variety was painted across the window in big, blocky levels.

A bell on the door rung as they made their way inside. The driver stayed by the car.

I stepped back from the surveillance gear I mounted on a tripod on the rooftop parapet. I'd been watching this damned street for forty two hours. Only one person came and went in all that time, and that was the fat old man that owned the place. Never had a single customer.

Before Scotti rolled up I was starting to doubt my intel. Now, though, I felt sure: this was a Costa family safe house.

I made my way back to my rack. Dropped my weight into a lawn chair and pulled a beer from the cooler. The ice cubes inside had all but turned to slush. Wouldn't need to run out and replace it, though. The meet was happening. Tonight, surely. No more shut eye in a sleeping bag on some god forsaken roof. I'd finally managed to scare those assholes into showing themselves.

Reaching into my shirt collar, I tapped a button hidden under a piece of skin-color tap and turned on the hidden microphone. "Micro, I got positive I.D on target approximately two minutes ago. Copy?"

"Finally!" David 'Microchip' Lieberman whooped on the other end of the line. "And here I thought I'd die choking on Cheetos before we found this guy. How's he looking?"

"Like I left him." I chuckled. "Bloody nose and all."

I beat him black and blue three days ago. Caught him and his soldiers overseeing a hand off with a associated crew: Scotti's boys supplied drugs to a dozen associates, and his associates passed the cash they'd made off last month's product. Made the deal at a warehouse on the waterfront at eight PM sharp. Same place as always. Was easy to post up in a shipping container with a rifle. Took out about half the crew, scrambled down and caught Scotti before he could escape. Made sure to rough him up good before he 'escaped.'

Not even an hour later, five more cars rolled up to park on the same street corner. A limousine came in last. Six mafiosos climbed out. They wore their iron naked- luparas and .38s visible to the world. They swept the street in pairs. Looked in windows, knocked on doors, and made sure nobody was home. Whole street was owned by half a dozen different companies and all of them were fronts.

"We're good!" Someone yelled from the street below.

"How're we on all that computer shit, Micro?"

I got a ping on my phone. Got a notification from that app Microchip had me install. Had to tap the stupid screen three times before it read my fingerprint and unlocked. It brought up a list of cameras as long as my arm. I tapped the topmost one and was greeted with a view of the street.

"Matthew Skinner tried to buy penis enlargement pills a few months ago and he neglected to change his email password." Micro snickered in my ear. Skinner was Scotti's bloody right hand. A hitman with seven unconfirmed hits under his belt. "He got me access to their whole network. Every time he logs into the WiFi on his phone, I see everything he sees. And more."

An exterior camera mounted on the corner of the Deli showed me the limo's backdoor as it opened and the underboss stepped out. A big guy, broad shouldered and muscular. Clearly spent his off time at the gym. Lots of scars, too. Big, calloused hands, even an old scar on his neck from the bullet that almost killed him. His head was freshly shaved and spit polished to a shine.

"Bruno Costa." I grunted. "Younger brother to the big man himself."

Micro opened another window on my phone. Bruno's rap sheet scrolled by. Was in and out of Rikers Island throughout the eighties and nineties. An army of mob lawyers slipping money to the right people made sure he never stayed in for long.

Three other capos lined up to offer Bruno a warm handshake. Rico 'The Beard' Colicos stepped up first. He was a well manicured show horse of a man, and a professional palm greaser. He handled all the money laundering for Costa family. Had connections in every big bank in New York and several international financial institutions.

Enzo 'Big Bumpy' Gazzera stepped up next. He pushed aside the offered handshake and pulled Bruno into a hug. Gazzera was an old school gangster. Carried himself with pride. Treated other men with the respect their station deserved. Guy had salt and pepper hair, a generous belly and a lotta jewelry. Good manners didn't make the man, though. Big Bumpy gunned down his first cop before I was even a twinkle in my mother's eye.

Luis 'Lulu' Allegre stepped up last. He was a short, rat-looking bastard with a pencil thin mustache and slick backed hair. There was a perpetual layer of sweat on his oversized forehead. Luis ran guns for the family, trading firepower to small time gangs for their allegiance. I'd been shot with his guns more than once. You could say it felt a little personal after the fifth time I had to get stitches.

"We got audio, Micro?"

"Oh yeah. Ohh yeah we do. I'm in all their phones. Have GPS tracking, microphones, their goddamn nuddies. Everything."

"You can keep the last one."

My phone beeped as it connected to my earbud. It buzzed for several seconds before distorted voices started coming through, like the whispers of specters long dead.

"...Woke me up in the middle of the damn night. Better be good." Bruno growled.

His voice reminded me of a dog I used to have. I called him Mutt. The shelter said they rescued Mutt from a fighting ring. Said he had 'behavioral problems' and were planning on putting him down. Thought I was tough enough to fix him. Could handle a dog that snarled, even nipped. But Mutt and Bruno made the same, terrible sound. They were both feral. No kennel and no prison would change their ways.

"Let's find out, boss, eh?" Big Bumpy Gazzera patted Bruno's shoulder. He led the four of them into the deli. A gaggle of armed guards followed them inside, though about half of them stayed to watch the street. Eight men in total patrolled the sidewalks, leaned on their cars or shared cigarettes near the door.

"They've got cameras all over that place. Even a few in the apartment hallways upstairs. Guess they're pretty paranoid about people sneaking into their safe house."

I pulled up the interior cameras to watch them enter and get a lay of the land. There were a handful of shelves covered in stale food and ancient cans. A single old man in a green apron sat on a stool behind the counter. He was utterly engrossed in a copy of today's Daily Bugle, and its front page story on Luthorcorp. He didn't so much as look up as the mobsters waltzed through his store.

The actual store front area was large and had plenty of shelves and furniture to offer concealment. I didn't see anything heavy enough to offer proper cover from gunfire. Five guards stayed back to browse the grocery store while the Costas made their way to the kitchen through a door behind the front counter. Switching cameras, I watched them walk through the kitchen to a back room. One last door exited the kitchen into a back alley.

I flicked to the outdoor camera watching the alley. There was a car parked next to a pair of empty dumpsters, but no guards.

Flipping back to the kitchen cam, I caught sight of Mark Scotti and Matt Skinner sitting in there at a large, round table with two glasses of whiskey and a pack of Cubans. None of the capos or Bruno greeted either of them. They just stared at each other in the doorway before they split up for their chairs. Three soldiers went into the room with them while the last two closed the door and posted up on either side of it.

Looking through the list of cameras, I couldn't find any in the back room. Meant I was audio only.

"They're in position. I'm movin' in."

"Good luck, Frank. I'll start filtering 911 calls in the area. Anybody mentioning gunfire gets to talk to me first."

This was it. Time to clock in and go to work. I unzipped my duffel to retrieve my tools. Whole block being mob owned meant no civilians. No possible police response meant no risk of crossfire. Meant I could go in fast. Heavy. I settled on old reliable: my Mk 18. A more compact version of the M4 carbine I lugged around jungles and deserts for half my adult life. The barrel was four inches shorter, which meant screwing a suppressor on the gun didn't add any length compared to the original model.

As I climbed down the fire escape, I used half my attention to scan my surroundings for threats. The other half listened to the Costa family dress down Mark Scotti.

"The Punisher. The motherfucking Punisher took a shot at you." Lulu Allgre laughed. "And you got away? You expect us to believe that?"

"Barely! Bastard would've killed me if my man Skinner hadn't been there to drag him off me. I called a meet as soon as I knew it was safe."

"So he didn't follow you?" Big Bumpy Gazzera asked.

"Course he didn't follow us." Skinner cut in. "I drove to the other side of the city, swapped cars and we slept in two different motels. Used cash and fake I.Ds. We're good, captain, you have my word."

Somebody scoffed. Turned out to be Rico: "Forgive us if we doubt your ability to outsmart the most dangerous man in New York City, Mr. Skinner."

Silent as a shadow, I slipped across the street. Made sure to wait until the mafiosos guarding the front sidewalk were all faced the other direction before I made my mad dash. Nobody so much as turned to glance my way. After disappearing behind a neighboring laundry mat, I rounded the corner. Made my way into the back alley behind the deli.

The beater car sat empty. Looked like it hadn't moved in a long time. I slipped past it. Put my hand on the doorknob. Gently as I could, I tested it. Locked. Great.

"Look, Scotti. You gotta understand our trepidation here," Guzzera started, diplomatic as ever, "Punisher isn't known for leaving survivors. Every family and gang in New York can attest to his effectiveness. All the big families have had their operations squeezed."

"Gave us room to expand our operations, though." Lulu chuckled. "Maybe we should be thanking him."

"Enough." Bruno barked. "He killed Costa people too. Cousins. Brothers. Now he's targeting our operations. He's got to pay for this."

"Yes, boss."

"Course, sir."

"That's what I'm talkin' about!" Scotti whooped. "Hell yeah, let's get us some good old fashioned-"

I kicked the back door open. Both Maggia foot soldiers went for their weapons but they didn't make it far. Put three rounds into the guy on the left, and just one into the guy in the right. No need to double tap when his skull is painting the back wall.

Almost instantly people started screaming.

"Who the hell-"

"Get down, boss!"

"Guns- do we have guns in here?-"

"Where the fuck are our guys-"

"-Punisher?!-"

Advancing toward the back room where my targets were trapped and seemingly unarmed, I kept my scope on the door to the grocery section. First man to open it ate a lovely dinner of 55.6 to the teeth. Next two were smarter. They posted up on either side of the door and only peaked long enough to fire shots. A revolver round pinged off the sink behind me. Shotgun pellets slammed into my vest. Hurt like shit but I could tell nothing was broken. Been shot in the vest enough to know what a broken rib feels like.

"The door! Bar the door-"

Didn't slow down. I adjusted my aim just to the left of the doorway and put two through the wall. Heard a man scream and then hit the floor. Tried to do the same to the man on the right but he had the brain to run the hell away before he got shot.

"-help me move this damn table-"

Didn't have long, only a few seconds before the rest of the pasta crew fell on me like bats outta hell. Put a hand up to open the door to the back room. Locked. Took three steps back and rushed it, planting my boot into it as hard as I could. Heard the lock break and the door budged an inch, but that was it.

"You think a door n' some chairs is gonna stop me?!" I roared, all piss and vinegar. Scum like this always got my blood up.

"Oh, God, don't kill me!" Mark Scotti pleaded. "Come on man, just- I'll do whatever you-"

"Shut the hell up before I kill you myself!" Bruno roared. I followed the sound of his voice. Down and to the right. I put eight rounds through the wall at waist height.

"Fffghhh...aaghhh.." Somebody gurgled. Think it may have been Lulu but all these rats sound the same when they're clinging on to life. They beg, plead and squirm- like they have any right to keep on living. I've seen the things these men do. What their ilk do to normal folk. I pulled more bodies out of rivers and dumpsters than I cared to remember.

"Believe it or not I'm not here to kill you." I had to scream to be heard over the barking of my M4.

An army of dumbasses wearing cheap suits and cheaper cologne came at me. They filled the air with lead. Lead and noise, noise like the hundred drums beating all at once. Rounds pinged off stainless steel counters, the fridge and the floor. Broken chunks of tile exploded at my feet as I ran. Ran to the rear of the kitchen. I grabbed the door of a walk in cooler and swung it wide. Its heavy steel frame would stop everything these guys were packing.

"Push up! Push up!"

"He's got Bruno trapped. We need to kill this fool."

"You wanna walk into automatic fire you be my fucking guest."

'Come and get it, assholes.'

Two mafiosos breached the kitchen simultaneously. When I tried to peak out to fire a barrage of bullets slammed into my makeshift cover. Could barely hear anything. Didn't know how close they were, if they were going to cross close or far. Had to make an educated guess and pray I was right.

Not that any God I'd pray to would wanna listen. I know where my soul's bound when I die, and I plan to fill hell's halls with a hundred other bastards before I got there.

I waited until I saw the barrel of a shotgun and the front of a shoe. Then I rushed him. Grabbed the barrel with my off hand to shove it aside while I jumped, shoving my knee into his groin. His buddy was three feet back, gun raised. I kept my human shield between me and him, and I used his shoulder to steady my rifle so I could fire it one handed.

Lit him up like a Christmas tree. Turned the kitchen behind him into a bloody mess. Felt bad for his suit. Looked more expensive than the rest.

"Fucking hell, Georgey! Georgey! Oh god-" My shield sobbed. Ignoring his cries, I pulled him around to face the door. Pushed him forward so I could make my way out of the kitchen and into the larger chamber beyond. Mafiosos sprinted in every direction to get away from us. Took the slowest few out before they made it to safety. No good cover in here. Just concealment.

Guess the guy I had hostage wasn't too popular, given how quickly his boys decided to shoot him to pieces to get at me. I threw his corpse down, ducking out of sight. Took the time to reload, and to talk.

Could still hear the capos and their underboss whispering to each other.

"Not killin' all'a you, you know. One of you lucky gentlemen gets to walk away from this. I want a name. The supplier. Drops your drugs off with a damned helicopter."

"Bite me!" Rico yelled back at me. Trying to muster some measure of courage in his final hour, I guess.

"You ready to meet the Devil, Colicos? I got your express ticket right here. What about the rest of you, huh? You know who I want. You've all met him. I know!"

My attention swung back to the front when I felt a sharp pain shoot through my thigh. I almost buckled, had to fall down to my knee. Damn. Got hit. Only once, though, and I couldn't find an exit wound. Must've been a .38. Felt like somebody lit a match and shoved it up the bullet wound so it might've fragmented.

Made me angry. Made me stupid. Focused all my attention on trying to shoot the guy that hit me that I didn't hear the door open behind me until it was too late.

That big bruiser named Bruno came at me. Grabbed me by the back of my vest, picked me up like a misbehaving toddler, and slammed me spine first into the edge of a counter top.

It hurt too much to scream. instinct took over. The rifle fell out of my hands and I had my glock them it instead. I shoved the barrel against Bruno's chest, and I pulled the trigger. I kept pulling it until the gun clicked. Bruno should've died. He should've keeled over and let me see the light leave his eyes. He didn't.

He punched me. A lot, I think. Kind of hard to remember once my head got to swimming and my eyes filled with blood.

"Boss? Boss, are you okay?" Guzzera cried out. He ran up and grabbed Bruno's shoulders, dragging him off me. "We gotta go. The cops are going to be here any second, sir."

Colicos came up behind him. "There's no sirens. We might be in the clear."

"You wanna risk that? How'd the don going to feel when you get his brother arrested?"

I couldn't see, but I was still conscious. I knew where my knife was by memory alone. Felt the comfort of cold steel in my hand. Didn't know where Bruno went so I just started swinging, stabbing and screaming.

"Shit! He's still going! Let's go!"

Bruno swung at me one last time. "I'm gonna enjoy pissing on your corpse, Frank. See you soon." He taunted, then he left. I don't know how he knew my name. Nobody knew my name.

I dug deep so I could stand up. As I struggled to my feet, I could hear a car start through the ringing. People were yelling, running. Then another four cars started in quick succession.

"Micro-" I coughed. "Track them. Keep the cops off. I'm...I'm gonna follow. In the van."