Age of Hero's
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Jarod1 on 24-02-2015, 23:53:46</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>24-02-2015, 23:53:46</strong>
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				<strong>Narration</strong><br><br>The world that we once we once knew is changed forever.&nbsp; Individuals with gifts once thought fantastical are cropping up more and more.&nbsp; A child in Queen New York that can lift a Volkswagon above his head.&nbsp; A teenager in Akron with the power to fly, or a young woman Dallas Texas who leveled an entire city block because she accidently released to much kinetic energy at a gas station.&nbsp; Stories you would once find in the pages of the super market tabloid are now front page news.&nbsp; People are scared and many are demanding action from elected officials who have no plans in place for something of this nature, despite the fact that meta humans have been around for some time.&nbsp; They are only now becoming common knowledge as the population has begun to skyrocket.&nbsp; <br><br>Behind the scenes there are those looking to make a difference and help the new meta-humans learn to control their powers, while others would love nothing more than to harness that power and use it to their own destructive purposes.&nbsp; The race is on and the stakes have never been greater.&nbsp; As the Defenders and S.W.O.R.D. work to keep the world safe, the powers of A.X.I.S. are silently acquiring assets through any means necessary.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>Nathanial Grayason / The Marc’s Estate</strong><br><br>In up state New York there is a massive residence that has stood for nearly two centuries and housed a family with very old money, being passed down from generation to generation, on occasion being remodeled as the fashions and technology changed.&nbsp; Nathaniel Grayson had come to live here with his mother and her new husband when he was 8 years old after the death of Nathaniel’s father.&nbsp; Her mother didn’t talk much about her former husband, and he only really learned why later when he accidently read her mind.&nbsp; It had been a terrifying experience for him and for a time thought their was something wrong with him.&nbsp; His fathered was ostracized as being a freak and was persecuted until he took his own life.&nbsp; Nathaniel had never told his mother of what he could do, because he knew she wouldn’t approve.&nbsp; She had gone to the grave thinking her son was a normal human being who had been lost during the second World War.<br><br>How fitting it was that he should return here nearly 7 decades later and pursue his true lifes work.&nbsp; Finding people like himself and helping them cope with what they are.&nbsp; His first success had been the speedster Ken Aldrin someone who had been touched by the darkest thing one could imagine.&nbsp; A.X.I.S. an organization that had been around since WWII had gotten their clutches into him for a time and done quite the number on him.&nbsp; Despite what one would expect, Ken was normally a carefree and relaxed individual.&nbsp; <br><br>“Quit daydreaming Nathatiel, S.W.O.R.D.’s representative will be arriving here within the hour,” the voice of Adeline Marc’s said behind him.&nbsp; <br><br>Adeline had been his step sister growing up, and due to a genetic mutation, had ceased to age from her 21rst birthday on. It had come as a great surprise to him to find her the same after so many years apart.&nbsp; He had expected her to be withered and old if alive at all.<br><br>“You sound like your nervous,’ he replied turning from an old hand crafted oak bookcase to face her.&nbsp; <br>“I don’t like the idea of a government organization breathing down our necks and looking over our shoulders like we are criminals,” she answered her tone clipped and distinctly old world sounding.&nbsp; “You use to work for them don’t they at least trust you?”<br><br>He smiled in response.&nbsp; He didn't blame her for being wary of government oversight, especially in reason times with some legislating confinement for meta’s.&nbsp; S.W.O.R.D. was different though.&nbsp; Technically they didn't exist, and they operated in a more open minded way.&nbsp; They made it their business to know what was out their but beyond that let people be.&nbsp; “They have access to data and resources that would be beyond even our reach,” he said&nbsp; “It is mutually beneficial for us to work together.”
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				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>25-02-2015, 23:33:24</strong>
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				<strong>Alexander Rienhold / Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean</strong><br><br>To the world at large Alexander Rienhold was long dead.&nbsp; Even amongst many in A.X.I.S. he was ancient history.&nbsp; He had only entrusted this information to the the current leader a man named Ritterkreuz.&nbsp; The two of them had a long history together dating back to the great war.&nbsp; It had been a pleasant surprise for Alexander to learn that his most trust general was now leading the organization.&nbsp; It was thanks to him that Alexander had this aerial fortress a&nbsp; laboratory where he could continue his experiments.&nbsp; This time A.X.I.S. would not fail.&nbsp; <br><br>While he was second in command forever, he knew that for now it was wise to let Ritterkreuz be the face of A.X.I.S. it had after all been he who rebuilt after the war.&nbsp; He also had 70 years worth of intelligence that Rienhold was lacking.&nbsp; Conversely Ritterkreuz needed him.&nbsp; Even in this day and age, his was still a mind&nbsp; for the cutting edge in science.&nbsp; He held no illusions however that Ritterkruez fully trusted him.&nbsp; The man was far to clever for that.&nbsp; His long life was proof of that.&nbsp; Right now they needed each other.&nbsp; One day that might not be the case, and Alexander would be ready for that day.<br><br>His current project involved tracking down meta humans.&nbsp; The boom in their population over the last couple of decades was staggering.&nbsp; With enough of them fighting for A.X.I.S., there was absolutely no way they could lose, and they would fight for A.X.I.S.&nbsp; they would have no other choice.&nbsp; He had already created Danger, a woman with incredible strength and kinetic abilities.&nbsp; Unfortunately the brilliant scientist she had once been was lost, but her loyalty to A.X.I.S. was without question.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>thebobmaster</strong> on <strong>26-02-2015, 00:24:32</strong>
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				<strong>Helena Walsh / Lincoln, England</strong><br><br>Another day of work. Helena enjoyed her time in the lab, of course. If she didn't like it, she wouldn't still be doing it. But she knew the consequences of what she was doing. A glance at her dark blue scales, matching her eyes, was enough to remind her of what could happen if she did something wrong.<br><br>Not that the thought of possible mistakes bothered Helena all that much. Sure, she had been made comatose in the incident, and had her DNA messed with. But she was alive. Besides, what inventions were perfect their first time through?<br><br>Interrupting her own train of thought, Helena walked over to one of the stations in her lab. On top of that station, 30 shirts were laid out, with various levels of stiffness. Stifling a yawn from a rather long night, Helena ran a hand over each shirt, feeling them for stiffness. Activating a tape recorder, she spoke in a deep voice, with a heavy British accent. "Samples 1, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, 15, 20, 23, 27, and 29 are unusable for the purposes designed," she reported, picking up each shirt and tossing them into a biohazard bin. "The chemicals have made those shirts too stiff, reducing the mobility to an unacceptable level."<br><br>Next, she grabbed a scalpel, slashing each shirt. "In addition," she continued after running the blade over each shirt, "Only samples 2, 8, and 30 held up when cut with a scalpel." Once again, she took the shredded shirts and placed them into the biohazard bin. <br><br>Turning off the tape recorder, she picked up the 3 surviving shirts, carrying them to the other side of the lab. Dressing three mannequins with the shirts, she then picked up a Walther P99. She wasn't a good shot, but from 15 feet away, she didn't need to be. Putting in earplugs, she fired 3 shots at each shirt.<br><br>Taking out the earplugs, she took the shirts off of the mannequins, examining both the shirts themselves, as well as pressure sensors placed on the mannequins.<br><br>Placing the pistol back on the station she'd picked it up from, she went over to the tape recorder, turning it on to report her findings. "Sample 2, while withstanding blades, did not hold up to small arms fire. Sample 8 reduced damage from small arms fire by 15 percent. Sample 30 reduced small arms damage by 45 percent. Therefore, it seems that the best combination is tetraloxinate 3 and sextachloride. However, too much sextachloride will make the formula brittle. Given another week, I believe I can find the balance for optimal results." <br><br>With that, Helena turned off the tape recorder. "That will work nicely with my night-time outfit," she said to herself, smiling faintly before heading to the cot she had set up in the corner of the lab. She didn't generally need to worry about intruders. The lab was hidden in the basement of a dilapidated-looking mansion. Most people would see the mansion's exterior and walk away. If not, the high-volt, low-amp charge in the handle of the mansion would be discouraging, to say the least.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MasterOfMyFate</strong> on <strong>27-02-2015, 02:29:50</strong>
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				<strong>Zachary Carter / New York (Moving in a vehicle)</strong><br><br>"Oracle. Replay my mission brief again please." <em>"Certainly Agent Carter."</em><br><br>Agent Zachary Carter drove through New York despite all the traffic in his way. Luckily he was allowed this time considering he was so close to his destination and he was allotted enough time to arrive. The only thing he could do to ease his mind is replay the mission's specs over and over until he was aware of every detail that his brief from HQ gave him. Cracking his right knuckles with his thumb alone, Agent Carter took a look over towards the screen next to his steering wheel that was placed in his car. The blue screen turned into a faded black that took shape of a silhouette. <br><br>"Agent Carter. Your assignment is to arrive at the destination that will be added to your GPS. Then, you are instructed to meet with a former Agent of S.W.O.R.D. and come to an agreement with a partnership with his group and our organization. What is known; Nathaniel Grayson was born in the early 1920's and served in WWII as an American Soldier. According to him, he was sent to the future due to the effects of a project spearheaded by another Organization known as A.X.I.S. This was one of the few timelines that the 'meta-humans' are evidenced. Nathaniel Grayson himself is a meta-human. It is thanks to him that the meta-human existence was clarified to S.W.O.R.D. <br><br>It would be prudent to solidifying the partnership between us as we have a common enemy in the radical meta-human group known as 'The Brotherhood' along with aiding in the investigation of A.X.I.S. I do not need to remind you of the losses on S.W.O.R.D.'s side when it concerned the investigation of A.X.I.S. However, despite once being an agent, be cautious with Nathaniel. He is a meta-human and has a different mindset of patriotism as compared to ours. His ideal of America is not the 21st century. Currently, you, Agent Carter, are the only one equipped with 'dealing' with Nathaniel Grayson. If things go south, you must be the first to act." <em>"End of Briefing"</em> The female AI voice spoke out of the speaker. Agent Carter grimaced as he was reminded of the fact that this mission was diplomatic first and infiltration second. Considering the nature of this mission, Agent Carter couldn't be equipped with his weapon of choice. That didn't mean he couldn't bring it in the trunk though.<br><br>"Oracle. Play case file Li-Eng #227. It should be a robbery incident in Lincoln, England." <em>"Certainly Agent Carter."</em><br><br>"Case file Li-Eng #227, responding to a robbery in Lincoln, England, we found no humane point of entry of the jewelry store. What was stolen; a set of 22k rings, some containing diamonds, and other random assorted necklaces that are quite expensive. According to the authorities, it was a ghost. However, the ventilation contained claw marks that the authorities are unaware of. Evidence of meta-human involvement? Possibility was high. Recommended for further investigation." <em>"End of Case File Li-Eng #227."</em> Oracle spoke. Agent Carter rubbed his chin at this. He was told that after his meeting with Nathaniel he would be sent to England for a follow-up mission to investigate a meta-human siting. This was a rumor that wasn't set in stone though. Just something Agent Carter heard from HQ when he inquired if he had any other missions for the week. Out of all the cases in England that happened, this was the only one concerning a meta-human. That said a few things. One, this meta-human that stole from the jewelry shop was his target. Two, S.W.O.R.D. already has an idea on who it is.<br><br><em>"Arriving at Destination. Would you like to keep the car running Agent Carter?"</em> Oracle asked. Carter replied with no. He felt that this was going to take a bit. Pulling over, the car turned off by itself. However, a compartment on the ceiling of the car opened revealing sunglasses. Taking them out, Agent Carter stepped out of the car while placing them on at the same time. Looking from left to right, Agent Carter surveyed the area. It was quite a massive residence. Fit to carry many people to take residency. Maybe could be utilized into an institute for meta-humans to learn how to control their powers. First the place would have to be renovated S.W.O.R.D. style with an underground training facility that would comprise of a simulation room. Then there could be a containment room for meta-human's to safely learn how to control their unstable powers with the durability of the room being strong enough to withstand it. The security could do more with a couple of turrets, cameras, and many other methods of security Agent Carter could think of. Agent Carter looked at his complimentary smart watch custom made by S.W.O.R.D. <br><br>"Oracle. Begin recording. Also, keep track of time for me." The blue hud on his watch had a red dot appear at the top right corner of the screen with the time in black numbers continued to count the seconds. The screen then went dark as Agent Carter brought the watch away from his face. It was time to meet face to face with the man out of time himself, Agent Carter thought. He never knew of Nathaniel Grayson personally, but he was briefed on him and did a bit of investigating of his own. He knew everything about Nathaniel Grayson. No doubt Nathaniel is capable of knowing everything about Agent Carter just as easily. <br><br>The man was a telepath after all.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>28-02-2015, 02:59:26</strong>
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				Nathaniel knew that their guest had arrived before the security system on the grounds even alerted him, and spent a few moments learning what he could about the man who was coming to visit.&nbsp; It didn't take him long to determine what he had already guessed that Agent Carter already knew a good deal about him.&nbsp; Everything that was in his official file as a former Agent of S.W.O.R.D.&nbsp; It was also clear that his former associates didn't trust him much.&nbsp; They thought that his ideals of Patriotism we're outdated.&nbsp; It was a saddening thing that this generation placed so little value on the principles that made it the outstanding nation that it was.&nbsp; Too many had allowed ignorance and fear to push them into hasty decisions and given up liberty for security.&nbsp; To people in this era patriotism meant unquestioning loyalty to government control. <br><br>Nathaniel made his way across the mansion to the main entrance hall passing by a few of his students.&nbsp; Meta human's that he found and promised protection.&nbsp; Most of them only had minor or passive abilities such as appearance or heightened senses.&nbsp; One of them could make her body nearly indestructible.&nbsp; All of them we're young with the exception of his speedster friend Ken Aldrin.&nbsp; He continued to monitor Agent Carters thoughts and smiled slightly at his assessment that this might make a good training ground if improvements we're made.&nbsp; It was nice to know that S.W.O.R.D. didn't know everything about his set up here.&nbsp; Many of the things he had in mind had already been done, although some of them could stand an upgrade or two.&nbsp; <br><br>'Welcome Agent Carter,' Nathaniel projected opening the front door before their was any knock.&nbsp; 'Do come in.'&nbsp; He didn't normally make a habit of communicating this way, but he was curious to see how his guest might react to receiving telepathic communication.&nbsp; "Please feel free to make yourself at home."&nbsp; He held out his hand to Zachary Carter.&nbsp; "Nathaniel Grayson, but you already knew that."&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deathnote</strong> on <strong>28-02-2015, 06:58:15</strong>
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				<strong>Ken Aldrin / The Marc’s Estate</strong><br><br>It had been more than two years since Ken escaped from A.X.I.S.&nbsp; It had been close to two years since he first met Nathanial.&nbsp; Of course, Ken had heard of the patriotic super soldier of World War II who somehow jumped through time to now.&nbsp; It was a little hard to believe, but the young speedster knew better.&nbsp; He had already seen many things during his time as a semi-brainwashed A.X.I.S. soldier, so he knew that time travel wasn't out of the realm of possibilities.&nbsp; Perhaps the hardest pill to swallow was that this Nathanial... he seemed to believe that Ken had what it took to become a hero... a hero, just like him.&nbsp; Ken didn't understand and it took some convincing, but in the end he decided to give it a try.<br><br>Ah... right.&nbsp; The morning cafeteria lunch rush.&nbsp; Ken had taken it upon himself to help out in the kitchen.&nbsp; There were quite a bit of students and not enough hands in the kitchen, after all.&nbsp; Zipping about in the kitchen, the speedster helped prepared meals for the various students of the Marc's Estate.&nbsp; In almost no time at all, he was able to dish out several plates of spaghetti with meatballs (or Fettuccine Alfredo with broccoli for the vegetarians) with a side of poutine (fries with gravy).&nbsp; Once he was done feeding the students, he proceeded to feed himself... twenty meals worth of food.&nbsp; It was a bit of a deal he made with the kitchen staff.&nbsp; He helped out there and he got to eat as much as he wanted.<br><br>Zipping through the hallways of the mansion, Ken was still stuffing his face with a huge bowl of spaghetti when he reached the entrance hall.&nbsp; There, he came across Nathanial Grayson and... some guy Ken didn't know.<br><br>"Hey, Mr. Grayson.&nbsp; Miss Kingsley mentioned you wanted to see me?"&nbsp; Ken came to a complete stop as he greeted Nathanial.&nbsp; As a result, whatever loose papers just happened to be in the area was suddenly flung about by the huge gust of wind that followed him.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HairyHeretic</strong> on <strong>28-02-2015, 23:58:01</strong>
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				Sam sat under the graffiti covered concrete of the bridge, idly tossing stones into the canal below, listening to the drumming of the rain and the incessent drone of traffic overhead. His stomach took the opportunity to remind him that it was now going on three days since he had last eaten, and he grimaced, trying to force his mind onto other things.<br><br>In the gloom all around he could see them flocking. They could sense his mood though and stayed back. Well, most of them did at least. Some .. perhaps more desperate to be heard .. would periodically drift closer, their whispered words coming to him, like the memory of words just said, rather than anything heard. He still wasn't entirely sure how he drew them closer, or pushed them away. The mood he was in, they kept away.<br><br>He shivered, pulling his jacket around him, and the hood up, but it didn't seem to help that much. "Fucking freezing." he muttered, glaring around. "Fucking worthless shower of wankers. No use, the bloody lot of them." It had been a slim hope, to see if the mobile soup kitchen would be here, but slim hope was better than none.<br><br>He glared around at the shades that surrounded him. "Well?" he demanded. "Any of you got anything worth saying?"<br><br>His hands rose to his head, screwing his eyes shut as a cacaphony of silent voices filled his mind. "SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!" he shouted, til the noise ceased. "Fuck me. Arg. Fuck. Don't ever do that again, you hear me?" He glared around him. "Do any of you know where I can find some food, or some money, or something that will help?"<br><br>Again the voices, less this time, but it still took him a few moments to sort through. He rose, moving towards one of the shades, that of a young woman, only a few years older than he, by her appearance.<br><br>"Show me."<br><br>He followed her out into the rain, within thirty seconds he was soaked to the skin. Through dimly lit streets he moved, taking what shelter he could find as the rain waxed and waned in strenght. His path led him to what looked like the shell of an old factory, its gates padlocked shut. It took a bit of scrambling, but he made it over the wall, dropping to the tarmac beyond with a muttered curse. Rubbing his ankle he rose, and moved to the main building itself, smashing a window to get himself inside.<br><br>He followed her steps through the remains of the building, down into the cellar, lighting a small pocket torch to see, coming to a door that was bolted shut. He pulled the sleeve of his top down over his hand, and worked the bolt up and down til it finally slid across open. Holding the sleeve of one arm across his nose he moved inside, but the stench still left him gagging.<br><br>The corpse lay propped against one wall, and likely had been for weeks, perhaps months. He held his breath as drew closer, fishing a small purse from a bag that lay discarded a few feet away. He opened it, nodding in satisfaction at seeing the cash inside. Not exactly a fortune, but at least it was food for the next week or so .. maybe a bit longer, if he was careful. "Thank you." he said, his tone subdued. "What ... I mean ..." he stopped as he understood what it was happened to her, his light playing over the torn clothing, to the handcuffs that had pinned her to the rusty metal pipe by the wall.. "I'm sorry." he said, weakly. "But I can at least call the location in. Your family, I mean, it's better than not knowing, right?" He pocketed the cash, putting the purse back where it had been, watching as she began to fade away.<br><br>He left the cellar behind, stumbling up and into the night. It took time to find a working phone around here. "Hello, police? I want to report a murder. Rape and murder. No, shut up and listen, I'm not staying on here. Send a car to ..."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Innocence</strong> on <strong>01-03-2015, 03:08:50</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp250/jlop985/Internet%20Posting/felicia2_0_jpg_595x325_crop_upscale_q85.jpg)</div><hr><hr><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Blake Leonard</strong></span> <strong> =Undisclosed location in New York= </strong> -Feeling tired-<br><hr><hr><br>Blake woke up to the smell of agar and tri-buffered saline, it was not pleasant.&nbsp; The red head had fallen asleep in the lab again after preparing her experiments.&nbsp; The young scientist was trying to find the gene, or perhaps even genes, that gave natural born mutants [NBM] their powers.&nbsp; After joining S.W.O.R.D she had learnt so much about the ever rising number of meta-humans, particularly the NBMs and the genetically altered individuals.&nbsp; She came to conclusion that if someone could artificially gain mutant powers by altering their DNA, then the root of the NBM powers must also be linked to their genes.&nbsp; After her incident in the university lab a few months ago, she now decided that she herself was a prime example to support her claims. If this was true, then perhaps she could find a way to inhibit the 'meta-human gene' from being expressed, rending the individual a normal powerless human.&nbsp; <br><br>The young scientist yawned as she walked over to the back room where she had stored her samples the night before.&nbsp; She had inserted several gene sequences that she suspected to be the 'meta-human gene' into bacteria&nbsp; and hoped that one of her samples would show results.&nbsp; Making sure she wore gloves and her lab coat (she didn't want another incident to occur), Blake carefully placed each sample under her microscope one at a time and noted anything of significance.&nbsp; <br><br><sub><em>•Samples 01 though to 10 - gene sequence #65<br>Normal growth, no observable abnormalities. <br><br>•Samples 11 through to 20 - gene sequence #66<br>Samples 11 to 13, 16 to 20 normal growth, no observable abnormalities.<br>Sample 14 and 15 are growing mold, contaminated samples.<br><br>•Samples 21 through to 30 - gene sequence #67<br>All samples show an abnormal amount of growth over a 4 hour period. <br><br></em></sub><br>Blake pulled her tired eyes away from the microscope's eyepiece and took her glasses off.&nbsp; She was tired and really needed to wake up.&nbsp; She took her gloves off and rubbed her eyes.&nbsp; "I'll need to wait another four hours to see if anything changes," she murmured to herself. "Maybe I'll go out and get a coffee in the mean time."&nbsp; She began packing up her things, it was already nearing on noon when she had finished and taken off her lab coat.&nbsp; <br><br>Her little lab wasn't really in the middle of nowhere, in fact it was definitely right in the heart of the city.&nbsp; Yet all the twists and turns you had to make to simply get to the front made it feel like she was in a maze.&nbsp; <br><br>She opened the iron bolted security door with a combination of her key card, finger print, and eye scan.&nbsp; Security around her was crazy.&nbsp; She enjoyed the sense of security but at the same time she felt like she was in a prison.&nbsp; The door opened to the storeroom in the back of a tiny little book shop in the middle of a quiet alleyway in the center of the big apple.&nbsp; <br><br>"Morning Gladys." Blake greeted the seemingly delicate shopkeeper with a smile. She always got the impression that the little 30 something year old lady was hiding something, aside from a secret high tech lab underneath her shop.&nbsp; <br><br>"Morning Gene, did you sleep downstairs again?"<br><br>"Haha, yea sorry about that.&nbsp; I just had some really important work I wanted to do last night and it couldn't wait until the morning."<br><br>The two waved farewell as Blake exited the shop and made her way onto the main road.&nbsp; "Starbucks is just down the road I think, what should I get, an iced mocha? Maybe that new strawberry trifle frappe?"<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kadigan</strong> on <strong>01-03-2015, 04:28:51</strong>
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				<strong>Danger - Somewhere in England</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z302/redwillowwitch/Danger_zps3b8807ad.jpg)</div><br>Danger was bored, incredibly, unbelievably bored. She was never fond of the actual act of traveling, it was boring and dull and stupid. Magazines were kind of fun to look at and music was never dull, but she'd run out of both of those things even on the short flight to whatever little tiny town this was. AXIS had their own planes, which was nice of course, but sometimes even on private planes you can end up sitting next to someone you don't want too. <br><br>She'd been dispatched to England with another one of AXIS's members, codenamed The Hound. He was called that because he could find people with powers, or something like that. She wasn't really sure how his powers worked, or hers really, just that they did. She was there to be his backup if the new super powered person didn't fit in line with the AXIS way. Of course she was made to wear the frumpy trench coat to cover her outfit, after all it wasn't "appropriate" to go wandering around a town in just shorts and a skimpy top, at least now. And The Hound had kept going on and on about the targets powers and this and that...he just wouldn't shut up. <br><br>Still, when they got there at least the man had a nice television. She had made herself right at home while they waited for him to return, curling up on the plush leather couch and had started watching the last episode of Dog Cops on DDSTV, and had barely paid attention when the door had opened. She couldn't remember exactly what this potential person could do just that her job there was to make sure he didn't run. And that she did. Barely turning her head from Sgt Whiskers antics, she held up a hand, pinning the still shocked man to a wall firmly with her mind. Holding him there while the Hound made his recruitment speech. <br><br>She'd heard it before. Blah blah, winning side, blah blah fortune women, so on and so forth. She loved AXIS and couldn't dream of any other life, but honestly the recruiters could make the fun sound soooooo dull somtimes. Slowly coming out of her TV zombie face as she realized she was being spoken too, she blinked once. The offer was rejected, and they'd have to take care of him.<br><br>Smiling wickedly as she stood up, her hair began to stand up on her head for a moment even as she shoved with her brain. It didnt' require focus or intense concentration like some of the comic books seemed to think, it was easy, like wiggling a finger. Wiggle wiggle and the man's head suddenly imploded in a nice gooey mess of bones, brains and blood. The warm splatter went everywhere as she practically giggled with glee, feeling hot splashes against her cheek. <br><br>"You brainless bitch!" The Hound shouted, sounding indignant, "You were supposed to knock him out so we could take him back to base for reprogramming like we did w....like we do! Weren't you listening?!"<br><br>"To you...not really no..." she smiled, her heart pounding just a little bit in that post execution thrill, her stomach doing belly flops, like it was the first time she had really killed someone. That was silly though, she'd been with AXIS all her life and had done much worse. Her head hurt for a moment and then suddenly her eyes snapped down as her hip vibrated. The Hound was still saying something..dull and stupid or something, but whatever..she was getting a text. <br><br>&lt;TAG: OPEN/AXIS&gt;&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MasterOfMyFate</strong> on <strong>01-03-2015, 05:01:44</strong>
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				<div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://cdn50.fansshare.com/photos/coltonhaynes/colton-haynes-colton-haynes-wallpaper-1039992222.jpg)</div></div><br>'The file did say you were a telepath.' Agent Carter replied to his invitation. At first, there was the initial twitch of his finger, signifying his reaction to the surprise voice in his head. The voice, however, was too fluently spoken and loud enough to deduce that the voice was not a figment of his imagination. Putting the information the file gave Agent Carter and two and two together, there was only one person that Agent Carter could think of that could project their thoughts like this. It was quite the display of Agent Carter's defective work. Grabbing the handle, Agent Carter entered the building while removing his sunglasses from his face. His dark eyes stared at his mission objective with a monotone look about them. No emotion was displayed to be read from them. <br><br>"Agent Zachary Carter, but you already knew that. Please, call me Agent Carter." Agent Carter took Nathaniel Grayson's hand and shook it. "We have much to discuss. Particularly with about your 'Defenders' initiative." Agent Carter removed his hand from Nathaniel's and took a step to survey the room. It was quite classy. Big too for an entry. With his hand twitching again, Agent Carter heard the noise of someone arriving at a rapid speed that Agent Carter couldn't process in time for it to stop. It was a young man, slightly younger than Agent Carter was. And it appears he is a meta-human as well. Agent Carter waited for their transaction to end before he resumed his meeting. <br><br>Agent Carter, in the mean time, began thinking on how this newly arrival's power worked. Did his muscles contract in a way that increased his speed? Does his molecules vibrate at a rapid pace that is simulated by how fast he ran? Many ideas could be possible, but they would require further investigation. Maybe S.W.O.R.D. could have their genetic's specialist Dr. Leonard take a look at him. One of the few genetically altered members of S.W.O.R.D.'s staff that has proved to be quite an asset to the organization, Dr. Blake Leonard has aided on a few of Agent Carter's assignments. Though Agent Carter usually does not know other member's by name most of the time, this one was one of the few that caught Agent Carter's eye.<br><br>Speaking of catching Agent Carter's eye, this young man was an interesting mystery of a meta-human the more Agent Carter thought about his powers. Especially concerning when Agent Carter began planning his contingencies should he ever have to face the man. His chances are slim concerning how slow Agent Carter must seem to be in the man's mind.<br><br>That was a scary thought indeed.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HairyHeretic</strong> on <strong>01-03-2015, 17:49:34</strong>
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				The advantage to being in an all night coffee shop all night was that you were warm and dry. He suspected the tired looking waitress knew he didn't really have anywhere else to go, but the night had been ugly enough that as long as he wasn't causing any real trouble, and the place was empty, then she wasn't going to kick him out. The remains of two very large, very black mugs of coffee and a trio of bagels lay in front of him. The coffee had maybe been a mistake. He thought he'd dozed, on and off, leaning against the radiator, but it was hard to be sure. He never slept that well to begin with.<br><br>There was a crash from the kitchen area, drawing his attention and that off the waitress and cook. "Just a plate." the cook called. "Guess it slipped off the rack or something." The waitress made a non commital noise and went back to reading her iPad behind the counter. She glanced at Sam and gestured towards his almost empty mug. He gave a quick shake of his head, turning slightly as the door opened and a redhead came in.<br><br>He grimaced slightly, pressing his fingertips into his temples. Too much caffeine, too little sleep and too much noise in his head. He could feel a headache coming on, and his stomach gave a lurch. He shook his head and muttered something almost inaudible. He really didn't want to get kicked out before he had to leave, and figured he might have another hour or two before the breakfast crowd started to appear and they'd have to move him along.<br><br>"Move along, move along. Story of my fucking life." he murmured, palming a couple of pills from the little container in his pocket and frowning again at how empty it was getting. Another few days worth, maybe.<br><br>His head jerked up as the voices finally penetrated his fogged up brain <em>watchingwatchingwatching</em> and saw the redhead nearby. Had she been watching him? He threw the pills into his mouth and swallowed them down with a mouthfull of lukewarm coffee. He forced himself to relax, but kept watch on her from the corner of his eye, ready to run if he needed to.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Innocence</strong> on <strong>02-03-2015, 10:32:44</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp250/jlop985/Internet%20Posting/felicia2_0_jpg_595x325_crop_upscale_q85.jpg)</div><hr><hr><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Blake Leonard</strong></span> <strong> =Starbucks= </strong> -Feeling tired-<br><hr><hr><br><br>"Maybe I should get a blueberry cheesecake too? Or a butter scone... do I want something hot or cold?" Before she knew it Blake had made her entire way to Starbucks whilst having a monologue about what she would order.&nbsp; Needless to say, many people she passed by had to turn heads and raise their eyebrows.&nbsp; The redhead eventually decided that she would just order whatever was on promotion at the moment when she pushed open the glass doors. <br><br>The warm air quickly engulfed her when she entered, she shivered from the sudden change of climate.&nbsp; The place seemed pretty quiet, only one other customer was inside, a rather shaggy looking man with sandy brown hair.&nbsp; Blake only glanced at him for a moment before making her way to the counter.&nbsp; "One... green tea iced frappe with a white chocolate and raspberry cookie, please." She read the small chalk sign beside the counter.&nbsp; "Name is 'Blake', even though I'm a girl, I know I know." Blake often got mistaken for a boy when meeting people for the first time, the names Blake and Leonard were both rather masculine.&nbsp; She never knew why her parents named her that, perhaps they wanted another son? <br><br><em>"Move along, move along. Story of my fucking life."</em><br><br>Blake turned her head to the origin of the statement.&nbsp; Big brown eyes were staring straight at her with a somewhat uncomfortable expression.&nbsp; <em>'Was that directed at me?'</em> She wondered.&nbsp; The man then opened a small bottle and popped something into his hand before throwing them into his mouth.&nbsp; <em>'I wonder if those are prescribed.'</em><br><br>"Green tea for Blake."<br><br>It didn't take her long to get her food.&nbsp; "Thank you." When she took her tray and turned to decide where to sit, she did consider sitting as far away from the raggedy male as possible.&nbsp; But instead she reminded herself it was better not to judge a book by its cover.&nbsp; Making her way closer to the man, she placed her tray down down on an adjacent table and sat down in the plush leather chair facing the same way.&nbsp; She gave him a smile as if to say 'I mean you no harm' before taking a sip from her frappe.&nbsp; <br><br>Behind the red head was the wispy silhouette of a man.&nbsp; Although she could no see it, one person in the coffee shop could. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Interdiction of words</strong> on <strong>02-03-2015, 20:38:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/9e/f2/bf/9ef2bf00b1c2727d2bfb11126686972f.jpg)</div>Name: Ritterkreuz Anthony<br>Location: Somewhere in England next to Danger.<br>Tagged: Danger and Open.<br>Mood: Disgruntled and angry with small amounts of glee.<br><hr><br>Ritterkreuz Anthony had been dealing with a few contacts within the one of the countries he hated most. <em>England… England… even the name made him disgusted.</em> though everything had to fall into place, one piece at a time if needed. Those contacts that he had dealt with definitely needed to be taught a lesson in vision. Their minds were so small in their thinking, not even paying attention to the coming plan that would lead him towards his ultimate goal… the world bowing down to his feet. <br><br>This time in England his contacts, rouge mafia and some so called criminal empires, were providing the last few steps needed to present his ultimate weapon. A weapon so powerful that the earth would surrender without him even firing a shot. Such thoughts put an evil smirk across his face once he wandered out of the alleyway where he had met his ‘friends in arms’. He was not too far from Danger based on what her mission parameters hung upon. Maybe this would be a good time for a… “Special checkup”. Ritterkreuz Anthony reached deep into his grey trench coat, the pocket on the right side. His fingers fumbled lightly for a rectangular device that shared similar to a cell phone but nearly untraceable in comparison to those clumsy devices. His pale white thumb gracefully dialed the number to Danger’s text. There he wrote, <em>”Special Agent Danger… Meet me in the West Essex bank in London at the Morgan and Alexander Co. Be there in an hour or two… I need some good news right about now.” <br><br>Clicking the send button and depositing the phone into his pocket, he strode down the coble stone pathway towards his office. He owned a banking system that stretched across the world and brought in money for whatever he wanted. People were so stupid since they never paid attention to what was truly happening around them. Ritterkreuz Anthony continued down the London ways until he reached his office then he stopped past his secretary before taking a seat and waiting for his special agent to return with hopefully good news. He cross his hand over hand and looked out upon the city while his eyes burned holes, figuratively, across the buildings. Soon enough he would be owning the world. <br></em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>03-03-2015, 06:30:26</strong>
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				Nathani Grayson/ Marc's estate<br><br>Nathaniel smiled as he watched the man survey the hall. Even without reading his mind he could tell that agent Carter was impressed by what he saw. It was also clear that he wanted to get down to business discussing the initiative he had proposed. The Defenders he had hope of creating would be a team of trained meta humans who could help bring new and scared metas to a place of sanctuary.&nbsp; A safe place where they could be around others with talent. <br><br>Ken arrived in his usual fashion, at top speed. "Yes, Ken," he replied as he gestured toward their guest.&nbsp; "This is Zachary Carter, he's an agent of S.W.O.R.D., he's going to be getting to know us better so he can make his recommendation to his superiors."&nbsp; He started to lead the small group towards one of the sitting area. "Agent Carter, I would like you to meet my associate Ken Aldrin. I figured you should hear from a man who was exploited for what he can do."&nbsp; <br><br>Walking over to a grandfather clock he opened the area that house the hands and wind the gears. When set properly a hidden door opens and he leads the group down a flight of stairs. "Agent Carter, I know you had thoughts of creating an underground training facility, you'll be happy to know that we aren't starting from scratch."&nbsp; <br><br>As important as this was Nathaniel Grayson was looking forward to having this out of the way. He had recently been made aware of a number of individuals whom he wished to go meet. He would like to have S.W.O.R.D. backing but it wasn't essential. <br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HairyHeretic</strong> on <strong>06-03-2015, 19:11:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam wasn't quite sure what to think as the redhead sat down nearby. The place was still pretty much empty, she had the choice of any seat in the place, so why there, why so close? It took him a moment or two to latch onto the figure behind him, and he grimaced slightly. The pills were strong, which was good, but they made his thoughts slow. He realised he was staring, but didn't really care. After all, he wasn't staring at her, but at the figure that hovered beside her.<br><br>His eyes dropped to her face, and he raised his hand to scratch the stubble on his chin. <em>Could she be ... like me?</em>. The thought came out of nowhere. He was used to seeing shades all around, everywhere, drawn to wherever he was, but this one wasn't. It was with her. He blinked several times, annoyed with himself for having popped the pills then, but in a distant, dull way. Part of him wanted to giggle at the disparity of the thoughts, and he shook his head to clear it, taking another mouthful of the almost cold coffee.<br><br>He turned back to the woman again. He'd never met anyone who could do the things he could. Never even heard of them, outside of books and films. He'd visited others in the past, but they'd all turned out to be fakes, preying on what people wanted to hear. He'd thought of trying that himself, but how could he call any one spirit, the one that someone actually wanted to. They came to him anyway, the ones that still wanted to be heard, that needed to be heard, that were not ready to go. He shook his head again, looking around, knowing that his thoughts would draw them, and sure enough, there they were, drifting around the outside of the shop, through the walls and through each other. He wanted to laugh as one drifted though the waitress, causing her to shiver and glance up from her iPad with a slight frown.<br><br>He shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts, and turned back to the woman. He licked his lips nervously and leaned across towards her. "Are .. are you .. like me?" his voice pitched low. "Can you see them? Hear them? Who is he, the one with you?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>thebobmaster</strong> on <strong>07-03-2015, 09:27:14</strong>
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				<strong>Helena Walsh</strong><br><br><strong>Location: Lincoln, England</strong><br><br>Rubbing her eyes, Helena looked over the thirty shirt samples she had in front of her. Having narrowed down the best compounds to use in the design, it was now time to narrow down the appropriate balance. Too much of one...She picked up a stiff shirt, and threw it against the wall. Upon impact, it cracked audibly as it fell to the floor.<br><br><em>No good. If my throw did that, a bullet would shatter it. Defeats the purpose, really.</em> Yawning slightly, she went to the next one. Picking it up, she flexed it, then set it aside. Each shirt was flexed and either set in a pile, or tossed into a wall. The ones tossed into a wall went into a disposable bin. The ones in a pile were laid out.<br><br>Activating her tape recorder, she spoke. "Samples 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 11, 13, 15, 20, 23, 27, and 29 are still flexible. The remaining samples proved too stiff and brittle to be used for their intended purpose." Picking up each shirt, she walked over to some mannequins, dressing them in the shirts, then shot at each with the handgun she had been provided. Examining each shirt and mannequin's pressure plate readings, she reported her findings. "Samples 2, 3, 7, 15, 23, and 29 showed unacceptably low shielding promise." Taking the indicated shirts, she tossed them into the disposable bin.<br><br>Picking up the remaining shirts, she draped them over the sink, running cold water over them before putting them back on the mannequins and firing again.<br><br>"After water exposure, samples 5, 6, 13, and 20 all suffered a large decrease in efficiency. Those samples will be fine for drier climates, but water exposure is a concern." Picking up the remaining 2 shirts, she decided to take the test to the next level. <br><br>Putting the shirts in a cabinet, she applied heat, drying the shirts efficiently. Taking those shirts out of the cabinet, she took off her lab coat, then her shirt, leaving her briefly topless. Putting on shirt 11, she picked up a scalpel. Testing the blade on her finger, she suddenly twisted it, jabbing it towards her torso. Wincing, she pulled away the scalpel, looking at the tip before putting it back. With a different scalpel, she repeated the process with shirt 27.<br><br>"Sample 27 did not protect against blades effectively," she said, looking at the bloody tip of the scalpel before quickly rinsing it off. <em>Hate the sight of my blood. Reminds me I'm not human.</em> Continuing out loud, she commented, "Sample 11, however, has performed withing acceptable parameters to all tests. Therefore, my recommendation is to treat the material with a compound of 45.6 percent tetraloxinate 3, 54.4 percent sextachloride for optimal results." <br><br>With that, Helena turned off the tape recorder. Stretching, she walked to a locked cabinet. Opening it up, she examined her secret outfit, before locking the cabinet up. <em>Later. Rest now.</em> Heading over to a cot, she laid down, covering herself up with a blanket and shutting her eyes.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kadigan</strong> on <strong>08-03-2015, 21:51:17</strong>
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				<strong>Danger - Somewhere in England</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z302/redwillowwitch/Danger_zps3b8807ad.jpg)</div><br>When she read the text message sent from her lord and master Danger had let out a squeal of delight. So very rarely did she get to see him, it seems like she'd hardly ever seen him in fact. The Hound was still yammering away at her, telling her what a bad job she did. And each time she tried to move around him he got in her way, jamming a finger into her ample chest as if to punctuate each point he was trying to make. Stopping her from seeing a higher member of AXIS made her brain twitch and go wriggle a little more, as the no combat based meta was flung over her shoulder and into the wall. <br><br>Leaving the twitching and groaning Hound along with the headless corpse she practically bounced down the street, her overcoat covering but not concealing her uniform, attracting many glares and stares as she went along. Biting her lower lip though, he'd said an hour or two. She wished she'd gotten an exact time, as now she wandered around, bored and hungry, both of which were never good things. <br><br>45 minutes later, and a loud noisy argument with a Fish and Chips vendor, she finally arrvied. she wanted potatoe chips not fries, which really shouldn't have been that hard! The name practically said them right in there. Still, she'd kicked over the cart and been happy about that. She'd found a few stray kitties too, which she'd lost about half an hour on petting and rubbing. They seemed to like the sticky red bits from the man she exploded that were still on her clothes, and she liked how fluffy they were of course. <br><br>Sill, distracted and eventually lost as she was she eventually found her way to the AXIS office, and was finally let up to her mater's penthouse office, stretching and yawning as she wanders in, hardly a care in the world. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MasterOfMyFate</strong> on <strong>10-03-2015, 01:20:20</strong>
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				<div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://cdn50.fansshare.com/photos/coltonhaynes/colton-haynes-colton-haynes-wallpaper-1039992222.jpg)</div></div><br>"A pleasure Mr. Aldrin." Agent Carter nodded towards the young man. He then returned his focus towards Nathaniel as he mentioned the thoughts Agent Carter had from outside the mansion when he first arrived. "Your ability to read my mind at a distance like that is... very impressive. I'm pretty sure you've heard that from S.W.O.R.D. before." Agent Carter remarked at the man's ability. It was truly impressive. And, being an adult at his age, he must have honed such control for years now. Especially when it came to warfare.<br><br>"I will cut right to the chase. You are looking to form a group dedicated to building good relations with the people all the while defending them all the same. This all sounds a bit noteworthy. Especially considering that this program is being spear-headed by an ex-S.W.O.R.D. agent. To add on top of that, you have proven to be a powerful meta-human. So I have one question for you." Agent Carter cleared his throat as he paused. He looked directly into Nathaniel Grayson's eyes with a clear mind. He did his best to make sure his mind didn't pronounce his question before he did. That would just be a big spoiler for a dramatic pause.<br><br>"How do we know if we can trust you?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Innocence</strong> on <strong>13-03-2015, 07:03:58</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div align="center">(http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp250/jlop985/Internet%20Posting/felicia2_0_jpg_595x325_crop_upscale_q85.jpg)</div><hr><hr><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Blake Leonard</strong></span> <strong> =Starbucks= </strong> -Feeling creeped out by Sam-<br><hr><hr><br>Blake placed her green tea frappe down on the coffee table in front of her before picking up the tiny dessert plate with the raspberry cookie on it.&nbsp; She reclined back into the soft plush chair and crossed her long slender legs.&nbsp; She would have been in a place of serenity if not for the glaring eyes next to her.&nbsp; The redhead tried not to stare back, but she would occasionally take a peak from the corners of her eyes.&nbsp; The raggedy man beside her was definitely staring.&nbsp; <em>'Maybe I shouldn't have sat here.'</em> She began to regret her decision.&nbsp; She didn't know that he was actually looking past her and not at her. <br><br>Blake bit into her cookie and chewed cautiously, being wary of the man.&nbsp; <em>'Maybe I should say hello?'</em> Her mind began to run through different scenarios. <em>'Maybe he's staring because I have something on my face? Or maybe it has sometime to do with those pills he just took... narcotics? Hallucinogens?' </em> She shuddered a little of the thought.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"Are .. are you .. like me?" </em><br><br>Suddenly the man spoke to her.&nbsp; Blake turned to the sandy blond man with a half bitten cookie in her mouth.&nbsp; Her moss green eyes met with his soft brown ones.&nbsp; He looked tired.&nbsp; <em>'Did he not get much sleep either?'</em><br><br><em>"Can you see them? Hear them? Who is he, the one with you?"</em><br><br><em>'Ok, he's a whack job.'</em> Blake began choking on her cookie.&nbsp; She quickly slammed the plate back down and grabbed her frappe to take a few sips.&nbsp; The redhead gently pounded her fist against her chest to try and dislodge any chunks of food stuck in her throat.&nbsp; She was now pretty sure the man was high on something.&nbsp; Once she was able to calm herself, she slowly turned to the man and spoke softly, as if she was talking to a child that had woken up from a nightmare.&nbsp; "Sorry but, can I see who?" She turned to look behind her, nothing was there except the cream paint coloured wall. She then turned to look at the barristers behind the counter, they were definitely trying to avoid eye contact with her but were glancing in her general direction.&nbsp; Her coughing fit must have drawn their attention, but she highly doubted the man was talking about them. Blake got the feeling that the man was talking about someone else in particular.&nbsp; She turned back to him, "I came here by myself, so I'm not sure who you're referring to." She leaned back slightly, withdrawing herself away from him.<br><br>The looming black figure behind her seemed to laugh, not hauntingly, but more of a playful sort of way.&nbsp; It then hovered its hand above Blake's head and gave her a pat, like a doting father.&nbsp; She of course could not feel it. <br><br>"Did you get much sleep last night?" She asked out of genuine concern.&nbsp; She always felt like she had to help others.&nbsp; <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HairyHeretic</strong> on <strong>15-03-2015, 02:36:19</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Sorry but, can I see who?"<br><br>Sam felt something lurch inside of him. He'd been so sure .. at least, he thought he had. He blinked again, and shook his head. There was definitely something wrong. <em>Bad pills?</em> he thought. <em>Shit. What the fuck have I gotten into now?</em> He looked up as the woman spoke again, trying to focus on her words, but his eyes were drawn to the smiling figure above her. "He still cares about you." he said, before he managed to bring her words enough into focus that he could reply.<br><br>"Sleep." he gave a small laugh, then winced as something in the pit of his stomach twisted and lurched, drawing a sharp exhalation of breath and a grimace. "Shit, that's not good. Sleep. No, no sleep. Can't sleep. They won't let me. Too .. too many voices." The words seemed to spill out of him, and he realised he was babbling. <em>Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me.</em> His thoughts felt slow, sluggish, and they seemed to echo in his head. Something twisted in his stomach again, and he felt sweat break out on his brow. "Hot. So hot. Too hot."<br><br>He half stumbled as he rose, grabbing his few possessions and swinging a battered looking pack onto his shoulder as he headed for the door. His stomach felt like it was trying to bring up everything he had ever eaten, and his body felt like he was standing next to a roaring fireplace. He'd done that once. Long, long time ago. He shook his head again, trying to clear it as he got outside, heading across the street and into a still dark alleyway. <br><br>He half fell into the smaller alleyway that branched off, his foot twisting as something slid out from under him. He bounced off the wall, falling heavily with a gasp. He felt his body curling up as he knelt on the cold ground, pressing his forehead into it. He tried to stiffle the scream that wanted to tear itself out of him, and only managed to mute it to a pained moan instead.<br><br>He felt something seize him and smash him hard into the ground, shattering him into pieces. He raised his head from the ground. Silence. His hand gingerly came up to his head. The pain was gone. He blinked and looked around. The shades were still there, staring at him, same as they always were. The air felt .. charged though. Like a thunderstorm just out of sight.<br><br>From the darkness came sounds. Faint. Rattling. Scrabbling.<br><br>Movement about two feet in front of his head drew his gaze. The ground was rippling, like it was water and not solid earth. From it, rising like Excaliber from the lake, came a body. Head. Shoulders. Torso.<br><br>Sam collapsed backwards, pushing himself away crablike as the figure rose into sight. His eyes darted left and right as more rose into view. His movement halted as something hit his back, and he froze almost unwilling to look and see what it was. The ring of silent figures began to move towards him. Five. Eight. A dozen. He lost count as they ringed him around. He realised that he could feel something pulsing within each of them, the faint echo of who and what they were. They felt ... expectant. No. That wasn't it. He raised himself to his feet, fingers brushing cold stone, and looked around him.<br><br>He knew then what they were waiting for. Instructions. His instructions.<br><br>He found himself sitting back on the ground, back against the cold stone. Looking upwards he could see the spire of a church of some kind. The figures around him still stood, silent and waiting. He looked around at them, and raised his hands to press the palms against his eyes.<br><br>"Oh, fuck me!"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Innocence</strong> on <strong>15-03-2015, 07:29:33</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp250/jlop985/Internet%20Posting/felicia2_0_jpg_595x325_crop_upscale_q85.jpg)</div><hr><hr><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Blake Leonard</strong></span> <strong> =Alleyway somewhere in NYC= </strong> -Feeling anxious, worried, and a little bit scared- [Tagging Sam and Agent Carter]<br><hr><hr><br><br><em>"He still cares about you."</em><br><br>Blake raised an eyebrow at the man's words.&nbsp; "Who?" she asked.&nbsp; Before he could have even heard her the man began to withdraw into himself, he was wincing.&nbsp; He looked like he was in pain and Blake couldn't tell what had set him off.&nbsp; She quickly placed her frappe onto the coffee table and leaned over the armrest closer to him.&nbsp; "Are you o--" she began to say but was interrupted by his muttering.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"Shit, that's not good. Sleep. No, no sleep. Can't sleep. They won't let me. Too .. too many voices. Hot. So hot. Too hot."</em><br><br>Blake attempted to reach out her hand to pat and soothe the man but he abruptly stood up and left.&nbsp; He looked like he was in a hurry to get somewhere, or more likely, just to get away.&nbsp; The redhead grabbed what was left of her cookie and shoved it into her mouth.&nbsp; She made no secret of the fact that she was following the man, and why? She wasn't quite sure.&nbsp; He was just some stranger in the cafe, yet she felt like he needed help and wanted to give it to him.&nbsp; "W-wait!" She called out to him as they both scuttled down the streets, trying not to run into people or traffic as they crossed the street.&nbsp; <br><br>Even though it was the middle of the day, between the tall high rise buildings it was easy enough to find dark alleyways.&nbsp; Blake saw the man duck into one of the side alleys, thinking it was best to be cautious now, she slowed down her pace and pushed her back up against the wall.&nbsp; <em>'Why did I follow him? This might even be a trap... Shit! What if this is a trap!? What if he's actually a meta-human trying to lure me out? Oh man, I should have thought this out better.'</em> She slid across the wall, running her right hand along her slender figure to reach for her 9mm handgun.&nbsp; <br><br>Peering over the edge of the wall, the redhead's moss green eyes widened at the sight she witness.&nbsp; There were figured surrounding the man, human figures, dark figures.&nbsp; She didn't know if it was the sleep deprivation or not but she was pretty sure that she was looking at a gang of zombies.&nbsp; <em>'Far----k.'</em> she thought.&nbsp; <br><br>The next thing she did was reach her left hand into her side pocket and pulled out her phone.&nbsp; She made sure to keep an eye on the situation as she attempted to contact one of her fellow S.W.O.R.D agents.&nbsp; Punching in the speed dial number, the name 'Hot Shot' showed up on her screen.&nbsp; Hot Shot was the nickname that Blake had given Agent Carter upon finding out about his archery skills. The phone rang twice, and deciding that time was of the essence, she had to act quickly as she didn't know what the zombies were going to do next.&nbsp; Blake placed her phone back into her pocket, leaving the call going.&nbsp; She hoped that Agent Carter would pick up and hear the situation, even if she was about to possibly have her face eaten alive.&nbsp; <br><br>In this time the figures hadn't moved much, they had just encircled the raggedy man.&nbsp; Blake wasn't sure when they would attack, but she got the feeling it would be soon. <em>'Here goes nothing.'</em><br><br>Stepping out from behind the wall, the redhead held up her gun and pointed it at the nearest zombie, which was standing only a few meters away from her.&nbsp; "Halt!" she shouted, not even sure if the zombies could understand her. "You, are you ok?" She directed her words towards the fallen male. "Have you been bitten?" If he had, would Blake have to consider shooting the man before he turned? Was she even allowed to do that? Her hands began to shake. <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HairyHeretic</strong> on <strong>17-03-2015, 00:24:25</strong>
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				"Halt!"<br><br>Sam's head snapped round at the authorative shout, and the head's of all the zombies turned to mirror his attention. <em>The redhead from the coffee shop.</em> he thought, frowning in puzzlement. <em>With a gun. Ohhhhhhhhhh fuck. Cop. Must be an off duty cop. Better that than some nutjob NRA type. Fuckfuckfuck, not good.</em><br><br>"Are you okay?"<br><br>Sam wanted to laugh. He was sitting in a grimy alleyway, surrounded by a dozen zombies, and she wanted to know if he was okay. His mouth opened with the intent of <em>just fucking peachy, thanks </em> when she continued.<br><br>"Have you been bitten?"<br><br><em>Bitten? Oh wonderful. Romero, you have got a fuckton to answer for.</em> He licked his lips before slowly pushing himself upright against the wall. "No." he said after a moment. "No, I haven't been bitten." He could feel the slow <em>pulse</em> of energy that seemed to connect him to the silent horde standing around him. "Wrong zombies. At least, I think so. These aren't the flesh eating type." he paused for a moment. "Pretty sure they're not anyway."<br><br>He leaned forwards from the wall, and stumbled back against it as his legs threatened to give out on him. "Gah." he managed, intent on keeping his balance.<br><br>Around him, a silent sense of waiting. His gaze moved from one to the next. "What the hell do I do now?" he asked. He watched the silent shades flitting around the alleyway, in and out of the buildings, more than he'd ever seen in one place. He turned his hands over and looked down at them, watching them tremble, and slowly&nbsp; closed them into fists, pressing them back against the wall. Gingerly he lowered himself to the ground again, his legs protesting the slow movement.<br><br>He turned to look at Red again. "I don't suppose you have any ideas?" he said, gesturing at the zombies. He felt weak, drained, like all he wanted to do was collapse now and sleep for a day or three, and shook his head to try and keep awake and focused.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Age of Hero's </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Interdiction of words</strong> on <strong>17-03-2015, 17:37:19</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/9e/f2/bf/9ef2bf00b1c2727d2bfb11126686972f.jpg)</div>Name: Ritterkreuz Anthony<br>Location: Somewhere in England next to Danger.<br>Tagged: Danger and Open.<br>Mood: Pondering future plans and grim times.<br><hr><br>Anthony sat in his favorite black leather chair; he stared out into the bustling yet boring, car filled streets of London. His penthouse office had glass on one side of the room just before where he sat. His wooden desk neatly organized with his files and folders but also some small desk toys that modeled some famous experiments.&nbsp; One of those desk toys was an old Newton’s cradle that he enjoyed in his free time but the steel balls remained silent. On the white colored wall held a single painting about the exploits Prometheus sharing fire to the world. Fire was indeed a gift though not what man thought fire could do. Man thought he could tame the unrelenting, all-consuming power fire contained. Just under the painting stood a dark brown dresser with two African urns. The other side held five bookshelves, filled to the brim with many different colored books but all told similar tales of true woe and despair for man. <br><br>When Agent Danger walked straight into his office, Anthony knew exactly who had stepped in and why he had called her there. Anthony, still turned towards the window, motioned with his left hand towards the empty chair right by his desk. Not nearly as fancy but just as comfortable. Anthony pressed his fingers together while holding them just above his mid-chest. “Special Agent Danger… I hear that you have been creating a situation with your partner. Does he not fit within your parameters of a working relationship?” Anthony slowly turned his chair to face his special agent. Her tan body spoke tales of pleasure and simple sex that could be gain from the Nymphomaniac that sat a mere three feet away from him. Her mind was even worse in trying to comprehend though if you threw any dog a bone it would chase it merrily. <br>“You know we must recruit more power wielders and soldiers into our ranks if we are to succeed against AXIS’s enemies. Recent reports seem to tell me different stories…” He paused for a moment for his words to sink in. “Just today you murdered one power wielder and you severely injured your partner, both would get you reprehended but I see something else in you… Yes, I see some potential for something greater then a recruiter.” <br><br>Anthony rested his pale hands down on the oak desk, his right hand grabbed the Newton’s Cradle. “Do you know the princable of the Newton’s Cradle? When one ball is lifted all the other balls transfere the energy into the last ball and the cycle repeats.” He lifted one the balls and let go so the balls would click away. “This is much like the cycle of good and evil… neither side gaining the upper hand over the other… that is until today.” Anthony stopped the ball from swing with one of his fingers. “You see, there are so many other things you could be doing right now but we choose you for a reason. You get results and that is what I like to see but starting as of today you will be my private bodyguard. If you reject my offer then I will dump your sorry ass in one of those godforsaken alleys and leave you there to rot. The choice is yours but choose wisely.” He rested back into the chair while she thought it through, there would be of course better perks for being his bodyguard and he did not give that honor to just anyone. <br><br>
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