<br/><strong>Name: </strong>Captain Marvel, Carol Danvers<br/><strong>Location:</strong>LA streets<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Silver Samurai<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Her torn uniform<br/><br/><br/>She was lucky. Despite her memory loss and being in the wrong city at the wrong time, Carol Danvers known as Captain Marvel still felt good about herself at the end of the day for being alive. Almost a week had passed since the first attack and she had bashed more Ultrons than she could imagine, still not knowing where or to whom she could turn for help. At first she barely remembered about herself; mixed images and emotions from her life as an Xmen, as part of the Avengers or as an officer of the US Army swirled into one big confusing melting pot and she gripped onto the only real thing she knew: the need to survive.<br/><br/>Carol didn’t know what she was doing in LA, nor why was she wearing a superhero costume. It was only after meeting a group of lost teenagers hidden in the basement of a house that she understood who Captain Marvel really was and that she had to be it. The real shock came when she saw her picture in one of the local magazines and realized that the article written about her gave more information on her tastes and personality than her own memory ever had.  There were many things she needed to search for, a lot of information to dig out regarding herself and those who appeared to be her allies or friends, but time and equipment were not on her side. For three days she couldn’t leave the hiding place without fearing that she’ll get killed. Once their basement was attacked, her instincts kicked in and most of the powers she had were then revealed to her once more. But she wasn’t good enough, she couldn’t protect any of those kids and while she emerged victorious and crippled from the fight, everyone else was dead.<br/><br/>Despair blocked her mind and regeneration powers along with it until the pain had been too much and she could finally heal.  She came so obsessed with the idea of becoming the hero she had read about in the article and within the next four days Carol only fought her way through LA, testing her own powers and limits. Yet the more Ultrons she destroyed, the more she thirst for destruction and the less she started feeling heroic rather than plain vengeful. It wasn’t hard for her to pour all the frustration of not knowing who she really was into the bashing and the thrashing of the invaders.  It was in one of those fits of rage that she had destroyed the nineteenth Ultron since the first attack on her hideout by ripping out its head with both hands, that her gaze caught a silver flicker of light passing through the allies to her right. Thinking that it would be nice to reach #20 and dismember it before going to search for lunch, Carol leaped after it.  The Ultron she chased was unlike all the rest. Its silver armor held a more regal bearing and its frame was definitely bulkier than the norm. Unlike the others, it also carried a sword, which was anything but familiar and its head looked more like a helmet than anything else.<br/><br/>“Oh shit, this must be the hivemind. I’m so fucked.” Captain Marvel didn’t really have time to think about it. Could she really have enough time to flee before the thing sensed her or would she give it her all and charge while it still had its back on her? Hot-headed and thinking that she had nothing to lose anyway, she attacked, jumping on its back, aiming to twist the Ultron’s head off.<br/>