The Marvel Universe Roleplaying Community

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 05:12:08 GMT

"Even in it's present state you can observe the advanced mechanics present in the rocket's construction. The shielding, while it did unfortunately fail..."

A teenager, Peter Parker, snapped off a few pictures as the scientist talked. True, just being here would knock him a few rungs down the popularity ladder, that is if had ever managed to go up it at all, but he wasn't going to let what people like Flash Thompson thought about him keep him from doing the things he was interested in, especially if said thing was studying the Fantastic Four’s crashed ship.

As Peter looked over the craft, something slipped out of it unnoticed: A spider, one that had climbed aboard the rocket before it had launched and miraculously managed to avoid being crushed in both the crash or during the ships transport to Empire State University. It remained unnoticed even as it crawled up Peter’s body, and onto his hand, right up until it sunk it’s fangs into Peter’s hand.

“GAH!!” Peter yelled, reacting in pain, tossing the spider with a fling of his hand. As the rest of the small group of people stared, Peter explained “Spider bit me,” and sheepishly exited.

“Smooth, Parker,” Peter thought to himself as he started to head home. As he crossed the street, and tingle shot up his spine, and he leaped, jumping out of the way of the car that had nearly hit him and climbing partway up a wall.

"...I'm climbing. Like...like...like a spider? Humans beings can't do this. They can't! What's happening to me?"

one of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 02:46:30 GMT

It was the fifteenth of May, the day after Kate's fifteenth birthday. She was a freshmen at the Paine Academy, a private school in Manhatten. Derek Meyers, a boy that Kate alternated between really liking and really being annoyed by, shared his second period chemistry class with her. Kate and Derek will eventually have several adventures and encounters. What happened on that day, pushed the ball rolling for the rest that was to come.

Calmly and carefully, Kate set out her supplies in front of her on the lab table. The chemicals were set to her right, all arranged in order of use. The extra glass dropper was set next to the chemicals while her notebook and pen were placed to her left. She'd gone above and beyond the point of organization when setting up for her experiment. Everything was as it should be or so she thought until she went to put on her protective goggles. One of the lenses had a long crack down the center and that would simply not do.

Kate stood up and walked to the back of the class where the extra supplies were kept. On her way there, she was stopped by one of her friends, Elizabeth. She was pulled over to the back of the room for she had a problem and needed Kate's help. They talked in whispers for a few moment, some boys would have been mortified to here their conversation, before Kate finally made her to the supply closet to retrieve a new pair of goggles. When she had a new pair in hand, she walked back to her assigned spot amongst the many other lab tables.

Independence Day

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 22:28:35 GMT

Over New York, the SHIELD helicarrier had the best view of the day's festivities. The skyline lit up in bursts of color with the fireworks streaking through the sky.

Valentina watched from the bridge of the carrier. Off-duty agents dotted the flight deck. It was good to be reminded of what was at stake every day, and why they were on the job.

Independence Day

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 15:24:26 GMT

VIP parties were the best places to make contact with her targets, this one was going to be no exception. Stark was the party type and he would not miss a party of this size and prestige. The who's who of high society and the A-Listers of stage and screen would be there to celebrate the United State's Independence Day. The Black Widow was going to make an appearance as well and make contact with the target of her mission.

The black evening gown was made of silk, diamonds kissed her earlobes and Prada cradled her feet. She was dressed to kill, figuratively. Tonight was not about killing. Tonight was more about seduction and manipulation. Two of her specialties.

Natasha entered the American Wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art on the arm of her partner Boris. Celebrating the opening of the wing and Independence Day was a two for one deal and a way to bring in more money for the museum.

She nodded once to Boris and released his arm. The big oaf was as stupid as he was big and Natasha didn't need him messing up her chances. She grabbed a glass of champagne and made a circuit of the room searching for her target.

Graduation Day

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 09:17:56 GMT

Sharon Carter had worked six years to get where she was currently. Six years. Four years of college at the College William and Mary and then another two years in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s academy and she was finally graduating and was going to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

Six years of hard work was paying off. She had studied pre-law at William and Mary and had graduated near the top of her class. From there she applied to S.H.I.E.L.D. and had been accepted. Two years later and after many classes and much physical training she was graduating. Not only was she graduating, she was graduating at the top of the class.

Today she would become a full fledged S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. She idly wondered what agent number she would get.

Everybody Wants to Rule the World...

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 04:15:37 GMT

...Except Bruce Banner. He's in this bunker surrounded by people who would blow the world to Kingdom Come to save it and then claim the credit. What he's doing is testing a gamma bomb.

Months ago his long-forgotten doctorate's paper on gamma radation was dusted off by somebody in the Pentagon and he was asked a lot of questions that really came down to one thing. Your problem in Bosnia was that everyone was a villager, rebel, or enemy, right? he remembers saying. What if in a 30 meter radius could detonate something completely harmless and have enough time to find and restrain everyone? I can probably build something like that. Would that handle your world problems?

He thought General Ross would just kick him out right there. He must have been overruled because ever since then Thunderbolt Ross has been trying to get a rise out of him since, especially after Betty asked him out. Betty. To everyone else around here she was General Ross' only child, but to him she was and always would be her own person and the only person in years that made him feel...good. Like his life had a point. Some people don't think you're a man unless you can crack their jaws. For his part, Banner didn't get angry. The old guy wasn't worth it. Nothing he could ever think of was worth it. Anger made you stupid.

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 07:51:56 GMT

Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., was currently in the middle of the training room at S.H.I.E.L.D. Central. Turrets around the room shot energy blasts at him and he dodged them, firing at them in return when he could. The session was set at a high level, one that he had done before many times.

It had been awhile since he had been able to get a decent workout in. Since Stark had practically shoved him in the big chair Nick hadn't had much time for workouts. There always seemed to be something that needed to be taken care of or done. He supposed it was the price for babysitting the whole damn world.

There was a brief pause in the firing from the turrets. Nick took advantage of the pause to catch his breath for a moment. It didn't take long for them to start firing again. Nick was in motion.

In the Hamptons...

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 03:28:33 GMT

Outside a bevy of models, socialites, and heirs to various fortunes scamper about in one of three heated pools and drink alcohol suited to their jaded paletes. The host of the party is not cavorting among them He's a little to busy listening to the news.

"The DOW Jones industrial average rose again today on the strength of good news from the banking sector on new home sales...."

The woman next to him gasps as the second woman with them moves a hand up her leg. He glances over. The brunette is pretty good at this.

"...Stark Enterprises made marginal gains, based on a new contract allowing for defense technology to - " He sucks in a breath. Fingernails slowly moving down his chest makes it harder to think about the news. The big news is out though. He and Pepper won another victory for shareholders. Go team.

"Spells trouble for the beleaguered Williams Munitions..."

Just when the ladies were starting to use their lips on him the phone rings. He ignores it. It goes to voice mail and then it keeps ringing. Whoever this is, they will be kept waiting.

Two hours later, the women are both asleep. He switches off the drone of 24-hour news and calls back whoever it was without bothering to check his voice mail.

The Golden Realm

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 21:12:57 GMT

Asgard, the Golden Realm, The Eternal Realm, was unique. There were areas that were perpetually in summer and there were areas that were perpetually in winter. There was one city in all of the realm and it was home to Aesir, otherwise known as the Asgardian gods.

A lone figure stood on the battlements looking out across the surrounding land. Her dark hair, so rare in Asgard, whipped the wind and across her face. The Lady Sif, one of the best warriors in Asgard, was enjoying a quiet moment. It had become a habit to come to the top of the walls and to look out across Asgard. She wasn't keeping guard, there were warriors for that, but she was searching for something, someone.

It had been a long time since Thor had been banished to Migard. Lord Odin had been most displeased with his son and had banished him to Migard to learn humility. Sif's heart ached for her missing love. She looked forward to the day Thor would return to Asgard and they would be reunited. Until then she would be a shield maiden of Asgard and defend the realm against its enemies.

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Fri, 22 May 2009 03:24:13 GMT

Far, far above the Earth, Thor looked upon the lights of the city of New York, and remembered. It had all truly begun with the bet.

The Ant-Man March

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Thu, 21 May 2009 16:36:02 GMT

There was no doubt that Henry Pym was a brilliant young man, gifted in great intelligence and ingenuity. Along with his industriousness, or more accurately, his obsession with work (“busy as an ant” his parents would say), he could achieve great things. The highest hopes of his mentors were dashed when Pym focused not on a cure for cancer, diabetes, or (as some hoped) making the next new weapon to give them an edge in the cold war, but on ludicrous theories regarding growing and shrinking molecules with each new theory more ridiculous, more insane, than the last. At least so it seemed to the world.

But there was one woman who understood him, Maria Trovaya. She was intelligent and beautiful, graceful and collected in a way Hank had never been. Maria’s father had been less than thrilled when the young eccentric courted, and worse yet, won his daughter’s hand. Although by the time of the wedding he’d warmed up to young Pym, somehow, certainly not through any of Hank’s social graces but perhaps out of pity for his lack of them. Or out of recognition that his daughter deeply loved the man and he loved her just as much.

Neither Henry nor Maria’s father were happy when Maria suggested a trip to her native country for a honeymoon. Her father and she had moved to America for a reason but she was persistent and Hank was in love. It was only a matter of time before he acquiesced.

If only he hadn’t yielded to her wishes. It wasn’t long before they were surrounded at gunpoint. Maria was forced into a car and when Hank tried to fight back, to save his wife, he was rewarded with a blow to the back of his head. He awoke in a hospital. As soon as he could he reached the American Embassy and after days of endless worry, of clinging desperately to any shred of hope, the ambassador himself came to Henry Pym. His quiet, closed expression filled him with dread but even then Henry could not believe his words. When he saw her body he still did not believe. She had been beaten so badly he did not recognize her. They had to use her dental records to ID the body.

For his own safety, Henry was sent back to America. Not a few days later Maria’s father died under suspicious circumstances. Eventually the death was ruled a suicide but Henry did not believe the coroner’s report.

Henry buried himself in work more deeply than before. No one was willing to fund his research so he used what money he inherited from his late wife. But it was not enough.

Struggling to cover the costs of operating his own lab housed in his tiny apartment, Pym turned to quick inventions in the hopes of earning quick money. But it seemed no one was interested in communicating with ants, even if it meant getting them out of the house without resorting to a pesticide and other noxious gases in their home. And no one was interested in ant bite proof gloves when normal ones would work just fine. He finally managed to sell a tiny marble catapult (in truth, really a miniature cannon) as a child’s toy— that is until one of the marbles hit a child in the eye.

Eventually he learned that while others didn’t want to buy an ant-helmet, he could use it to his advantage. He marketed his ant-specific exterminating services and it brought in enough money to pay the rent— usually. The job had other benefits. Curious about such complex creatures, Pym would rescue the ant colonies he drove out of homes and buildings and take them home to study them in his “spare time.”

But now the rent was due again and again his job hadn’t brought in enough money to pay it. If only he hadn’t bought so many chemicals but he knew he was close to a breakthrough and he couldn’t bring himself to wait, not after working for so long.

And now, finally, the time had come to test his discovery. But had he succeeded? Would the pym particles work?

With shaking hands, he did something entirely unprofessional and utterly mad. He tested the solution on himself.

Through the Ages

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Thu, 21 May 2009 10:30:38 GMT

There was a saying that wisdom came with age. Sersi wasn’t quite sure she believed that. She was certainly old (already tens of thousands of years old), but she wasn’t quite sure she’d call herself wise. Sure she knew a lot, but was she wiser for it? She doubted it. She still rushed headfirst into things and followed her passions rather than her head.

She stood on the penthouse balcony and looked out at the city. New York was by far one of the most interesting cities in the world and she had been in a lot of cities over the course of her long life. Babylon, Rome (when it was a few huts and way beyond that), Paris, London (first when it was a Roman outpost on the fringe of the empire) and countless others, but none captured her attention and heart more than New York. It was a city unlike any other and Sersi felt at home in it.

The three cities her race of people inhabited didn’t come close to being like New York. They were cold, distant and isolated much like her people in general. Not her though. She had always been in the heart of human civilization and she reveled in humanity’s energy and drive.

She had been born not long after the continents of Atlantis and Lemuria sank beneath the waves. It was a time when humans were still following wild herds and gathering what they could along the way. It was her people, the Eternals, who taught mankind how to plant and harvest crops. Reading and writing were also taught to mankind and recorded history began. Sersi had witnessed the birth of civilization and had stayed in the thick of it for almost all of her long life.

Babylon was one of the first cities and one of the first places she called home outside of the Eternals’ cities. The mud-brick building were quaint (compared to the buildings in Olympia and the other two cities) and the city was dirty and crowded, teeming with humanity. She loved it. She watched the Ishtar gate being built by order of Nebuchadnezzar II and then the Hanging Gardens. Often a night she would wander among the many plants and sit in their shade during the day.

Babylon’s star rose and fell and the Egyptian city of Cairo grabbed the spotlight. It was one of the few cities that failed to capture her attention for any length of time. It was a place to live until Athens rose to prominence.

Athens. Now there was a city she enjoyed. The arts flourished and reason enlightened the world. Yet, man was still evolving and stubbornly held on to the old beliefs of gods and goddesses. Her family and the Olympians struck a deal and the Eternals became the embodiment of the gods and goddesses on Earth. The others reveled in their new roles, but Sersi wanted no part of it. She didn’t want to be worshipped. She wanted to live among the humans and enjoy in the revelry. Eventually she retreated to an island in the Aegean.

Humans would not leave her alone for long. Odysseus and his men came ashore and she turned them into pigs for their lack of manners at her table. Thena intervened on Odysseus’ behalf and Sersi turned them back into men much to her displeasure. Odysseus would once again encroach upon her island, but this time in the form of Telemachus, Odysseus’ son. Oh how she loved him. Thousands of years have passed since she had been with him and there was still an ache in her heart.

Greece declined and Rome rose. Now there was a group of people who knew how to live. The decadency, the energy, the passion, everything Sersi loved about humans. Wine flowed freely and she never lacked for lovers or entertainment. Each emperor wanted more lavish things than the previous one. She watched Rome burn under Nero only to be rebuilt bigger and better from the ashes. The empire expanded and along with it came contact with other peoples.

The Germanic clans were a rather scruffy bunch and uncivilized compared to the Romans, but Sersi found qualities in them that she liked. They were full of passion and brewed the most wonderful drinks. Rome declined and eventually split into two empires. As Rome fell she made her way to the British Isles.

Merlin was a funny old man, highly entertaining and very charming. She wished she could say the same about Arthur. He was stuffy to say the least. The court at Camelot wasn’t nearly as fun or decadent as the emperors’ palaces back in the old Rome, but she took what she could get at the time. She found adventure and excitement when she helped Merlin defeat an impostor.

Europe grew and developed, eventually becoming the predominant force in the West. The Catholic Church and its teachings put a huge damper on fun and entertainment, but there were always ways around it. The Crusades came and went and in the end it just killed people on the battlefield and in the form of the plague. The old knowledge of Greece was rediscovered and the light of reason started to spread once more across the world.

The Church would be Sersi’s nemesis for awhile as persecutions for witchcraft ran rampant across Europe. Sersi was never one to hide her abilities and was brought up on accusations of being a witch. She was tried and found guilty, as were most women at this time, and was tied to a stake to be burned. The flames didn’t affect her and she walked away from the stake. She turned her accusers into pigs, a favorite trick of hers, for a short while before turning them back. She quickly left the area.

The Age of Discovery opened new lands for the Europeans, but Sersi and her fellow Eternals had already known about these lands and the peoples in them. She stayed in Europe, roughing it in the wilderness was so not her. She liked the good life and the good life was exactly what she was going to live. The Americas would wait until cities were built.

The next hundred years had been relatively quiet and Sersi found many distractions. They were usually well built and fit, dark hair and had a gorgeous smile.

She watched England become the most powerful country in the world and watched the upstart colonies revolt against her. She had been in Paris, when France went up like a tinderbox. The common people rose up against the aristocracy and Sersi watched Louis and Marie lose their heads.

Occasionally she traveled back to Olympia, but only once every hundred years or so. It was just to touch base and see if anything interesting was going on. There never was. Ever.

Makkari would blow in like the wind to visit her wherever she may be, but like the wind he was gone as quickly has he had come. She crossed paths with Gilgamesh once and awhile and occasionally Sprite, but outside of them she never saw her people except for the infrequent trips back to Olympia.

The years rolled by and before she knew it the 1900s had come. The very beginning was kind of quiet, but then World War I broke out to be followed by the 1920s. Now there was a decade long party. It had to be one of her favorite decades of all time. Booze, music, and mobsters to start and Sersi loved every second of it. Speakeasies were crowded, noisy and exactly her kind of place.

The Great Depression took a lot of wind out of everyone’s sails, including her own. She had never been more glad to see a decade end.

She had coasted through World War II and the 50s. Then came the 60s. The decade of free love and everything else that came with it. Sersi loved every second of it and it was her second favorite decade of all time. She had many, many fond memories of the 60s.

The 70s and 80s were rather uneventful and the 90s started out rather quiet. Then she got involved with the social scene in New York and has been rubbing elbows with the elite ever since.

She smiled and went back inside her penthouse. She had to get ready for tonight’s party.

The Black Widow

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Wed, 20 May 2009 11:03:38 GMT

Natalia Alainovna Romanova sat in front of a laptop computer in a small apartment in Queens, New York. It was one of many she had around the world and she never stayed in any of them more than two weeks at a time. The Black Widow couldn’t afford the luxury of staying in one place for long.

As far as Natasha knew, her identity as the Black Widow was unknown to most of the world, but it never hurt to be too paranoid. The Black Widow was wanted in too many countries to count and if her identity was discovered, she’d probably have to give up spying. She had been doing it for so long, fifty years, that by now it was the only thing she knew how to do and the only thing she wanted to do.

Her career started a long time ago in the Soviet Union, not long after the end of World War II. She didn’t remember any of it, but her training to be a spy started when she was just a kid. When she reached her twenties and after Alexi died, she formally became a spy. She was given the codename of the Black Widow and was sent into the West to spy on the capitalist pigs.

When the Soviet Union collapsed in the late eighties, the Black Widow was already a famous spy and Natasha wasn’t going to give up the life just because her masters were gone. She found a new one. Herself. Freelance worked paid better and it allowed her to be more selective when taking a job.
Her reputation grew as did her bank accounts. It wasn’t such a bad life. It kept her on her toes and kept things interesting.

A chime sounded and Natasha looked at her Inbox. There was a new email and the sender’s address looked familiar. A new job? Probably. She clicked on the email and read it.

How convenient. The job was right here in New York and she’d be able to rub elbows with the high society crowd. It was time to go to work.

The Birth and Death of a Legend

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Wed, 20 May 2009 04:05:16 GMT

November, 1940.

It was the stories of the Nazi invasion of Poland that upset the young man. Civilians shot in the street. Bodies piling up by the side of the road. Stories of children separated from their parents, and people being taken away to internment camps... and the young man knows that these camps can't be good.

And then there was that terrifying Nazi with that grotesque Halloween mask. A horrible red skull for a head.

That told him everything he needed to know. The Nazis were about death.

That's why he's standing here in line for enlistment, waiting for his chance to serve his country. The US is sure to get involved in this war soon, to take a stand against the evil of the Nazis. He's sure of it. And when that happens, he wants to do his part. To stand up for the people who need it.

So when they hand him his paper, he's unsurprisingly upset.

"4F?!" he demands.

The doctor glances up at the young man, annoyed. "According to your application, you've had just about every ailment in the book."

"So?!" the youth insists. "That shouldn't stop me from enlisting. You have to let me fight for my country!"

Behind him, the other men in line growl their frustration at the youth who's stalling them. But the young man refuses to budge.

Before the doctor can react, however, a man dressed in a general's uniform steps to the young man's side.

"Excuse me, son," the general says, "but you seem to be having some trouble."

The youth looks up at the general, concerned. "Yes, sir. I'd like to fight for my country. But they're giving me a 4F."

"I may be able to help," the general explains. At his side, there's an older man in a white coat who looks the youth over carefully, grinning and making the occasional mark on a notepad. "Are you sincere in your desire to help your country?"

"Yes, sir," the youth replies. "I'll do anything!"

"What's your name, son?" the general asks.

"Steve Rogers," the youth replies.

"Well, Mr. Rogers... you may just have that chance." He smiles tightly, then turns to go. “Lieutenant Glass, make the arrangements.”

A woman steps forward dressed in a Lieutenant’s uniform. “A car will accompany you to your residence. We’ll be flying to Washington tonight. And Mr. Rogers… bring several days’ worth of clothes…”

3...2..1...no go.

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Tue, 19 May 2009 07:23:40 GMT

Nick Fury, recently appointed head of S.H.I.E.L.D., stepped out of his hovercar (who would have thought a poor kid from Hell's Kitchen would be driving a flying car) in Central City, California. He was the bearer of bad news and the recipient was not going to be pleased.

Such was the way of government projects. They were funded until the money ran out or interest was lost.

Nick made his way through the building until he found one Reed Richards.

"Gotta talk to ya," he said.

A Brief History Of the Universe

gavin.downing@gmail.com — Sun, 10 May 2009 08:57:48 GMT

It was with the death of the last universe that a new universe was born – creating Eternity itself.