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| Out of Time; Secret Warriors first, Defenders Later | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 5 2012, 08:27 PM (1,148 Views) | |
| Rae Jones | Jun 15 2012, 12:58 AM Post #16 |
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Unregistered
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Rae stood by as Captain America, the stuff of legends, spoke. He was exactly how she had remembered him from the old programing in the 1940’s. Inspirational, commanding, no wonder he was the Star Spangled Man with a plan. She might not have been born an American, and had dual citizenship between both countries, but she could see why Americans were proud to have that man lead them in the past, and the present. The Archangel spoke up, he like the others looked worse for wear, but he was in. Director Fury gave the details that were asked for, the Intel had been hard to nail down, even with the time they had Rae felt more was needed, which was what the Scarlet Witch was proposing. The Director was in, so long as no one made the move that had David Hasselhoff replace him. The Kiwi couldn’t help a small smirk at the comment. Cassandra’s words had directed her attention. She raised good questions. But when it came down to it, what other choice did they have? If saving their future and the future of the entire race of planet Earth, not existing was a fair trade off. Pilot didn’t know the plan, didn’t know what the step was going to be after they went into the past. She couldn’t offer any words to ease Cassandra’s worries. “We are going to change the game.” She looked at Stinger and smiled, “So let’s go change it in our favor.” The New Zealander looked at Fury then to the Defenders taking a particular glance at Wanda and Captain America. It was a glance of trust, trust that they would all need in order to succeed. Rae spoke, “I’m in.” |
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| Quicksilver | Jun 19 2012, 07:16 AM Post #17 |
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Superspeed/ Superstrength
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[jp Pietro and Samson] When Pietro was a very small boy, he trusted completely in his sister's judgment. If Wanda had told him that the sky was green, he would have looked up and proclaimed it a lovely shade of emerald. As they grew older, his adoration of his beloved twin did not lessen. Starting when they were seven, she had to take certain lessons that the boys did not, and he had to learn the things that a man should know. He was not able back then to remember the things that the clan elders taught, because there was so much in his head. How many leaves on a tree, the exact order of notes to play a song on his violin, how fast the river flowed, these useless things filled his head, all the time, so he trusted Wanda's words when she spoke. Had that changed when her powers came to her, and suddenly all of reality was laid out in front of her? Absolutely not. In fact, perhaps more than ever Pietro put stock in her words, because he knew that she could see everything that could be and everything that was never to come to pass. As if he was reading the gypsy's mind, Samson looked over at him and said, "Pietro, your thoughts on what your sister is proposing?" "What would you have me say, Samson?" Pietro cocked an eyebrow. "Wanda believes that this is something worth doing, and she has the ability to do this something. I will do what she recommends because this time is needed, this effort is needed, and this world needs to be saved, does it not?" "You don't worry that we'll be making the matter worse?" Samson asked. Pietro frowned, and said, "Doctor, am I mistaken, or did you not tell us that this planet is under attack, and our friends and family may have been captured by aliens? I fail to see how that much worse things can be made." "You have a point," Samson said, with a smile, "All right. I'm in, Fury. Let's get this party started." Reaching out Pietro caught Wanda's hand and said, "Concentrate, my love, we are in your hands." |
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| Wanda | Jun 23 2012, 05:10 PM Post #18 |
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Reality Warping
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Wanda grinned as Simon joined them and squeezed his hand. He was alive, the horrible future she had seen for him escaped; many trials were ahead of them but that was for the future, now she was content to be happy. But didn't have time to enjoy her happiness long, none of them did, the world needed them. She nodded solemnly as, one by one they all agreed to attempt the impossible. "I have only done this once before and that time it was just me," she said as she reached for Pietro's hand. She would need him; she would need both of her loves to keep her mind anchored in the here and now, and not blown away in the winds of madness. "You have all the knowledge from here and now that you need," she said as she looked to Fury and the other SHIELD agents, it partly as a statement and partly as a question. Holding each man's hand, Wanda let her eyes unfocus, she let her mind unfocus. With a shrug of her shoulders, she seemed to shed the shackles of rational thinking - the thinking that said the time moved in only one way, and that what happened was permanent, like a tattoo on the skin of reality. It wasn't. All things were possible, even the impossible. Around her, the colors got brighter and richer. The white was blinding. The greens were so lush that you could lose yourself in thoughts of green valleys at the sight of them. The reds were vibrant beyond imagining, they were the rich red of fresh blood, drawing the eye like no other color can. For each person and each object, it was the same, they were a masterpiece of colors that you could drink in for an eternity and still want more. Whether everyone was now seeing the world the way she did all the time, she didn't know and didn't bother to wonder; if their eyes were closed to the beauty and wonder, it was their tragic loss. Around them were all the forces of reality and nature, visible and tangible, flowing all around them like currents in the ocean. "That is Time," she said gesturing with a tilt of her head at the gusting winds of Time. "Time - you do not feel it, but it is always there, forever pushing at your back. Pushing you forward." "Did you know you live in a puppet show," she asked them all blithely. Her grip on reality was slipping and for the first time, even the closest and dearest loves in her life could see why; it wasn't mentally healthy to see too much of the inner working of the universe. "Pietro, do you remember Gregoff's puppet show? Do you remember that all the dramas, they were played out for the watchers and the other puppets on the stage? Tragedies and love, victories and deaths, all of them happened on the stage for all to see. We looked behind the curtain, and what did we see?" What the young twins had seen were the mechanisms that raised and lowered the curtain and changed the scenery and opened the trapdoors; in short, the machinery that made the lives on stage happen. "Oh," Wanda exclaimed, her eyes wide and bright with a disturbing gleam. "This was the part of the play we missed the first time." Around them, the scene settled into a ghostly image of a combat scarred man as he carried in their unconscious bodies and placed them, one by one, into the vats that would hold them for months. Cap was the last and the man's tortured expression was a clear mirror of the agony of his soul. At the end, he seemed to be talking with Cap, talking to Cap, even if only one was capable of it. Then lastly, ripped the shield from Cap's slack arms. "Amerikanskaya khitrostʹ. No, you can't get me so easily, Cap... Captain..." The ghostly man was at the door when he turned and looked back over his shoulder. "Steve..." Wordlessly, Wanda moved them with a thought, leaving behind their sleeping and frozen selves. The wind howled over the frozen wastes, blowing blinding snow into their faces, but none of them felt it, they were still behind reality... behind the veil of the stage curtain. The only one who made tracks in the snow was the lone man. He collapsed the entrance that Samson would later dig out, sealing them in a temporary grave. Then after thrusting the blue, white, and blue shield into the rock hard snow, Winter Soldier disappeared into the blizzard of white. "Now," Wanda spoke the word and they slipped back into the world, feeling the biting cold and seeing the colors fade into shades that weren't so bright and couldn't blind your eyes with its beauty. Looking around, Wanda held an expression that seemed to suggest that even though she was with them, she was still seeing the world from behind the other side of the reality curtain. Holding the hands of Simon and Pietro, her loves and her anchors, she looked out into the sky. "I have never noticed that before," and tilted her head quizzically. "The tree. Worlds hanging like Christmas ornaments in the boughs. We live in the branches." |
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| Nick Fury | Jun 25 2012, 10:31 AM Post #19 |
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The Spy
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Seventy years ago, Lt. Col. Nicholas Joseph Fury was a 24 year old pilot, a Tuskegee Airman, because if you were colored it was the only way you were ever going to get to pilot a plane, and Mama Fury's eldest boy was in love with the sky. He and his friend Red had big dreams when they were kids, but a pair of poorly educated colored boys from Hell's Kitchen weren't going very far... That was until World War Two and suddenly there was something for them, some chance. At the time, all he'd wanted was to fly, and to see the world, something so impossible, and strange. That was a long time ago, and Nick Fury had seen almost anything he could have imagined since then. From men trying to purify the race and rid it of undesirables, to the beginnings of a new species of human with the power to defend humanity from itself, or to wipe them out with an eyeblink. Fury was as old as Cap was, but he had not had the luxury of sleeping the decades away. He'd watched the world change, he'd changed with it. Life extended by the Infinity Formula, given to him when he was injured by a land mine in France, he'd been changed, just as much as the world, and the man he was now was very hard to phase. This walk through the time stream came close. It came very very close. The Scarlet Witch, clinging to the hands of one man who had been with her in the womb, and one man whose love was still new and immediate, brought them to a place within the universe, and, though it was not the first time he cursed the shrapnel that had taken the sight from his eye, he had never regretted the loss more than at this moment. "I have never noticed that before," [Wanda] tilted her head quizzically. "The tree. Worlds hanging like Christmas ornaments in the boughs. We live in the branches." There was no tree, not that Fury could perceive and he glanced at Wanda. That stare in her eye, he had seen it before, in more wars than he cared to remember, against both man and monster. It was the long distance loss of cohesion that POWs sometimes had when they retreated into their minds, it was the fanatical shine of a megalomanic before he revealed his master scheme, it was the knowing that men like Dr. Strange possessed, the fervent hope of heroes like Captain America. It was, above all, it was the look of divinity, and Fury had met gods before. Wanda could likely take them all down with a flick of her pinky. "Miss Maximoff, are you with us?" he asked, simply, believing he already knew the answer. Samson, caught up like them all in the spiral of the changing world, looked over to Wanda and said, "Wanda, do you need assistance?" "Do not touch her," Pietro snapped. "She knows what she is doing better than any other." To him the steady backwards flow of time was just that. He could watch the images in the slow motion of his perception, and he would know when to act. "Now, my darling one, it is here that we must be." And, just like that... Time stopped. And they were standing in the midst of the outpost, looking much the same as it would in three months time. "Did it work?" Samson asked. Fury looked at his people for a moment, then turned, callingon his radio secret codes for the secret aircraft that would take them to the secret places not on any map. "I don't know. If it didn't, no harm no foul... if it did, then let's not waste these precious moments staring around us like a school of large mouthed bass." He pulled a thick stub of a cigar out of his pocket and lit it, before disappearing into the billowing snow with these parting words, "Defenders, there are alien asses in need of a kicking, and we have three months to polish our boots. " [align=center]End[/align] |
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2:16 PM Jul 11