conversations: human
conversations:  You've stepped into a large underground room, its size you guess at only from the echo of the foot steps of yourself and your compatriots who entered through the same small building above ground after exiting from similar black vans to the one the initiative representative who called you asked you to enter.
  
   A small light dangling from the roof flickers meekly into life and its light doesn't even reach the floor. A face is starkly illuminates a bald, brown eyed middle aged face. The man's expression is kindly but serious, with something in his eyes that seems out of place, like the eyes are too old for the face.
  
   If he cannot see you in the darkness he hides it well and speaks with the politeness of a by gone time  "You most likely do not know who I am but what you do know is why you're here. You have all be selected to join this team, to serve this country and to protect what Steve Rogers stood for.
  
   You're wondering now how I think I can get away with speaking Captain America's name with Norman Osborn holding the keys to the kingdom. It's simple... Osborn didn't choose you... Tony Stark didn't choose you...
  
  Captain America chose you.
  
   I made a promise to Steve, probably the last anyone ever did, that I would keep the Initiative honest... at all costs, he couldn't stop it anymore so he asked me to try and make the best of it. I failed. I missed the Skrulls and this whole world nearly paid the price.
  
   Osborn knows I run this team but my position is protected by the president's order; I fought in world war 2, our new president knows what that means. He lets me keep my job because he can't trust Osborn one hundred percent, he doesn't have the luxury. He knows you're here, he signs  your checks and he's my boss in name only but YOU work for me and I do what I do for this country and nothing else.
  
   My name is Mark Todd." 
  
   As he finishes his entire form bursts into flames leaving only a red suit with detailing, cross bones on it's chest and a skeleton where a man once was.
  
   He, or even it, illuminated the room, not truly though because it was not only a room but an entire complex stretching out underneath the platform on which you stand.
  
   Alien technology bristled with even more alien sounds beside the rumbling of the most advanced machines ever created by humanity, all traced by the seemingly meaningless symbols of the most powerful of magicks.
  
   After a moment the entire complex bloomed with it's own lights pulsing and beaming except for a large ovular purple and grey device above the door you had entered through which you figure must have been what had been concealing the noise of the complex.
  
   The flaming skeleton before you stretches out it's arms to the sides and says   "I am the Blazing SKull and this is  H.O.M.E. ."  
conversations: Avo:
conversations: human
conversations:  A large powerfully built black man, wearing a grey flannel shirt, a worn brown stenson, blue denim jeans with a brown leather belt with a large brass buckle and a pair of old brown boots. He takes a hand rolled cigarette out of his shirt pocket, lights with with a stick match.
    He tilts his hat back and takes a big drag and lets out with sigh.  "Cap? That's alot to live up to. Hell I joined the rangers 'cause of him"  he says in his deep voiced western accent.
conversations: Mo_the_Hawked:
conversations: human
conversations:  An unusually serene looking middle-aged man in a lab coat and slacks takes purview of the machinery lining the complex.
  
   "Oh yes,"  he turns back,  "this if far more interesting than Paris in the summer." 
  
  The man is of a slight build and thin face. He slouches forward and is noticeably short of six feet.
conversations: GrassyGnoll:
conversations: human
conversations:  A man of Asiatic heritage, with dark blask hair slouches. He dresses n a leather jacket, a black tee-shirt, and jeans. After the Mark Todd's dramatic speech, he stretches his arms out.  Feels just like home. Nothing says "Welcome back" Like whirring machines covered in arcane runes. 
conversations: Copacetic:
conversations: human
conversations:  If the rest of you are going to stay so tight lipped I suppose I'll continue. After the civil war I saw that the super human community was weakened, unable to unite as often or as well as it once did. End of the world scenarios while still as common were not able to be coped with or detected as well or as soon.
  
   So I founded  W.E.A.P.O.N.  right under  S.H.I.E.L.D. 's and more recently  H.A.M.M.E.R. 's noses. It stands for World Ending Apocalypses prevention Operations Network.
  
   How many weapons, super beings, alien armadas etc are fought by the super human community every week do you think. Not many, but how many overall do you think are never seen again.
  
   What WE are here to do is to catch the ones that slip through the cracks. We stop the end of the world before it's the end of the world. Our job is to stop the apocalypse, again and again and again...
  
   Your team defends Boston publicly, but secretly you're going to stop global threats, not just those here.
  
   You'll never get thanked and Osborn will never know so don't expect a bigger paycheck.
  
  But the real reason you're here RIGHT now... is because well... we need your help to stop the end of the world...
  
  So YOU in, or out? 
conversations: Avo:
conversations: human
conversations:  The tweedy man snaps back into motion, he looks around at his oddly attired companions.
  
   "Yes, about that. As much as I enjoy the world and all its amenities, and yes saving it sounds like stimulating exercising, I'd like to know who I'm running around with,"  he opines.
  
   "Or is that where the red tape begins?" 
conversations: GrassyGnoll:
conversations: human
conversations:  A man in what appears to be a brown jumpsuit wearing a kangaroo head mask over his head clears his throat. The sober expression on his eyes seen through the eyeholes combined with the long black cloak, the black scarf wrapped around his mouth, and the flopping ears make him look quite ridiculous.
  
   "I'm just a, uh,  cop with some fancy legs and a funny suit, but if you really think I'm qualified for saving the world on a regular basis, I suppose I'm in." 
  
  The the kangaroo man turns as the man in the lab coat asks about his companions.
  
   " Detective Sam McSorely, Boston PD. I, uh, suppose I you might know me as Phantom Kangaroo in costume. 
  
  The kangaroo coughs.
  
   "My, uh, son came up with the name... and the, uh, costume." 
conversations: kpenguin:
conversations: human
conversations:  Speaking to Mark Todd  ''Sir, you can me in. Ain't got anything better do anyhow" 
  
  Talking to the rest of the group,  "Hell, I ain't never been one that lets formality get in the way. Name's Charlie."  he reaches his hand out.  "I'm from out in Wyoming, north of Cheyenne. Got a nice spead out there." 
conversations: Mo_the_Hawked:
conversations: human
conversations:  The little girl sitting side-saddle on the giant, black dog watches all the excitment with a sarcastic gleam in her eye, her various bits of jewery twinkling in the flickering light.
  
  Lightly sliding off the dog, she smooths the creases her white, frilled dress, the little silver Scorpion earing flashing brightly as she tilts her head down.
  
   "I can only assume you know why I am here, so saying anything of the matter would be less than apropriate to such an auspicious occasion." 
  
  The voice that comes from the little eight year old girl is disturbingly deep and oddly sensuous, containing an added element that makes the skin of your back crawl in unpleasant ways.
  
   "My name, as far as any of you would know it, is Athanasia." 
  
  Athanasia looks up at the flaming skeleton, qurking her small mouth at him and tilting her head upward, showing off the black metal chocker surounding her slender neck, the tiny bat amulet stark against her pale white skin.
conversations: wadledo:
conversations: human
conversations:  The man jerks his hand cautiously into Charlie's grip.
  
   "And I'm Dr. Irwin,"  he announces himself.
  
  The doctor's shake feels more fluid that his movements, even if it's a weak hold.
  
   "Not in the medical sense if you plan to bang yourself out of shape. I'm a physics professor, really." 
conversations: GrassyGnoll:
conversations: human
conversations:  ((OOC: Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead.))
  
   "Well, Mr. Todd... Flaming Skull... sir... do we have any orders or should is this meeting over?" 
conversations: kpenguin: