Welcome
It all started when a crystal dropped into existence, punched a hole in time and space and landed into the lap of one the most insane men to ever walk the Earth.
At first, the clown didn't know what he had been gifted with, stuck in his cell in Arkham, staring at the reddish purple crystal laying innocently on the dirty stone floor.
And then the voices started, telling him of another universe, talking of power and chaos beyond what he could have ever dreamed.
census
Heroes
Villains
SHIELD
Avengers
Justice League
X-Men
Brotherhood
Mutants
Anti-Heroes
Civilians
Neutral
Total
|
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
000 ♂
|
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
000 ♀
|
|
LET THEM KNOW WE
WONT BACK DOWN
a marvel/dc roleplay
Angeles Ball (Open to Everyone!)
|
Fear Incarnate
|
|
Post by Jonathan "Scarecrow" Crane on Oct 28, 2012 22:17:30 GMT -5
This is not a post but a note about the Toxin.
Crane's Fear Toxin is a powerful nerve agent, which not only attacks and latches onto the chemical receptors in the brain, it over loads them. Particularly those that are used to create adrenaline triggering a flight or fight response, Dopamine if it is triggered in the wrong part of the brain, dopamine will arouse feelings of terror and dread. Corticotropin, a peptid that acts on specific receptors in the brain to create panic and stress. At times this is deployed with Carbogen, a mix of CO2 and O2 which fools the brain into believing one is suffocating.
As all the chemicals are naturally produced in the human brain there is no way to avoid it for a super human as immune systems will not attack anything naturally occurring. Everyone who is a human being will be affected by this as it is designed to attack the human mind. Mutants as well. Only a hand full of people in the thread are not.
Un Affected List as follows.
-Thor - Loki
Those Affected but can avoid under circumstances
- Iron man's Suit filters air. - Bane's mask acts as a filter as well
Those affected with other effects
- Any with the super solider serum or increased hyper metabolism, The effects will wear off faster as a hyper metabolism would regulate the natural chemicals faster once leaving the infected area.
Humans are just Screwed. If you have any further Questions please feel free to pm me.
|
|
|
"Let's face it. This is not the worst thing you've caught me doing."
|
|
Post by Tony "Iron Man" Stark on Oct 28, 2012 22:32:02 GMT -5
I need someone to show me the things in life that I can't find I can't see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: B8B8B8; border: #550505 solid 4px; width: 400px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]
Things were going peachy-keen as an Ovaltine commercial. The happy family all together again- Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Lady Liberty, and other SHIELD members that had helped save NYC from its latest (until now) Close Encounter- only, instead of enjoying a tasty treat together they were kicking ass. And none of them had milk mustaches.... And none of them were ten year olds.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't quite like an Ovaltine commercial. Damn. Tony was really drunk. Typically that's when he did his good thinking, not his wtf thinking.
Regardless, his repulsor blasts had seemed to hit their target. Tony was positive that had been JARVIS's help because the intoxicated man could barely stand on his own two feet when he was so trashed. Rhodey's little attempt at sobering him up last time in his L.A. homestead was still fresh in his mind.
But the dirtbag with the Predator mouth didn't really seem phased by the attack. Either Tony wasn't operating at full power or that guy was running on a lot more than just Speed and adrenaline.
Before Bane could have the chance to counter-attack (and Iron Man really had to see how his armor's strength would match up against the brute's), he locked and loaded for another strike.
"Jarvis, maximize repulsors. Transfer all spare power. I want this Sasquatch on the ground." Tony ordered as he raised his hands, palms out, again. The pads in the palms of his hands began lighting up, and sang with a mechanical whirrrrr. But just as he was about to fire, Danii had to get her ass in the way again. Cap had it taken care of! Not to mention Rogers's shield could hold up against a blast from the Man of Iron, but Danii's pretty little head could not. And oh God, if he even singed one hair on that Barbie doll head of hers he was going to be in for a lot more than a slap, he was sure of it.
Frustrated, Tony let out a grumble under his breath, letting the words "bitch" and "annoying" be a bit louder than before, and lowered his hands as she swung herself at the mammoth.
"Ya mind gettin' out of the way and letting the real men do their work, Washington?" He growled out, hoping to incite a little of that I'm-tougher-than-you anger. He took a few drunken steps to the side to reposition himself right when he heard a gun shot from behind him.
The gun shot was immediately followed by his HUD going on the fritz. "Aaah! What the fuck?!" Tony shouted as his screen went black, then flashed different colors, then spewed nonsensical data, then went black again, leaving him in the dark. On the outside, it was obvious that something was wrong with the Iron Man suit as the repulsors immediately powered down and Tony stood there in shock.
But it didn't take long to figure out what had happened, not even for the intoxicated hero. "WHO THE HELL JUST SHOT ME?!" He roared. A gun shot should not have penetrated his armor! What was this bullshit?!
As Iron Man stumbled around, arms waving as he tried to balance himself out, JARVIS chimed in his earpiece, "Sir, I'm afraid there's been a breach in the outer hull. The suit is still operating at full capacity but you have lost all visual."
"Oh, thanks for that, Captain Obvious! Why don't you just go over there and join Flag Boy and Lady Whats-her-face. You're just about as helpful! Do you mind telling me how the hell the armor got pierced by a bullet, Jarvis?" He growled. His hands were reaching behind him now, trying to feel for the hole, for the bullet, and for any exposed wiring. It was obvious that he was not going to be able to fight like this.
"It appears to have been a freak accident, Sir," JARVIS reported back as Tony pressed his palms to the sides of his helmet and de-pressurized it. "The vibranium-titanium alloy seems to be weaker in that one spot. Nearly non-existent, in fact. It seems that any direct hit from a typical, metal-piercing weapon could have punctured it at any given time. It just so happens that it has not been pierced there until this moment as luck would have it, Sir."
"Luck?" Tony repeated as he pulled the helmet off of his head, squinting immediately as the above lights burned into his sensitive eyes. Ow. Geez, was he already getting a hangover? He wasn't even sober yet! "I hardly call this lucky, Jarvis!" What was lucky, though, was that Bane hadn't seen this as an opportunity to crush Iron Man like a tin can against his forehead. Thankfully something seemed to have stopped him for the time-being. What was it that stopped him? Because Danii sure as hell wasn't doing a good job of it. Eyes still in slits, Tony glanced around, finally finding the person with the gun which Tony was pretty sure matched the bullet in the back of his helmet. He gave the kid an "I hate you right now" look before something else caught his eyes and he finally opened them fully.
People were dropping like flies. As Tony looked around more, he could see them writhing on the floor, some were screaming, some were clawing at their own flesh, and others were just sobbing. What the hell was going-
"Anthony!"
Stark turned around again, not realizing just yet how fuzzy his own head was getting, swaying in place as he blinked at Bane. Was... was that a scarecrow standing behind him? A scarecrow...
"Anthony, please!"
Tony dropped his helmet and stumbled around, metal hands gripping the sides of his head, his hair sticking in every direction from the sweat and the vacuum of the Iron Man helmet. The metal object in question hit the floor and bounced like a ball several feet away. Where was that voice?!
A look of panic growing on his face, Tony felt his arc reactor burning inside of his chest, signaling that his heart beat was speeding up. He needed to stop that, needed to slow his heart down unless he wanted burn marks on the inside of his chest.
"Anthony, don't leave us!"
No. He recognized that voice. But... but it couldn't be. It couldn't be because she was dead. They were dead. They couldn't be here!
"M-Mom?" He croaked out, spinning and spinning in place, his brown eyes searching the crowd, looking for that face, praying and wishing and hoping. But they weren't there. She wasn't there.
"Mr. Stark, I am reading an elevated heart rate and over-exertion of the RTD core...." JARVIS's voice was foggy in Tony's ear, but the message was clear: calm the fuck down, Stark, or you're going to be in serious trouble.
"You left us. You left us all alone. How could you do that?!"
"Stop it! Just stop it!" Tony shouted, squeezing his eyes shut. Get a hold of yourself, Stark. Think logically. What's going on? Why are you suddenly losing your mind? "J-Jarvis, run a scan..." He gritted his teeth as the voices in his head got louder.
But JARVIS knew what his creator was going to say and he'd already accomplished it. "I am detecting spikes in Dopamine and Corticotropin levels, Sir. It appears as if you've taken an extreme dose of a powerful hallucinogen."
"What? Impossible... I just... drank... a little...."
"You'll never amount to anything. Why do you try to fool your mother into believing you actually care?"
This voice was male. And it hurt. It hurt to hear so much. Where was it? Why did they sound so loud and close? They couldn't be. They were dead!
Tony opened his eyes again, still stumbling, still gripping the sides of his head, still outwardly moaning without realizing it. Where were they?! He reached out and pushed someone out of his way. He had to find them. Had to see if they were okay. Had to make sure they were still dead. Dead! They were dead! Tony, get a grip!
"I thought you would be there. You promised to be there. You promised, Anthony. You said you would protect me. You said you would be there, but you weren't."
No, Mom! How could I? You were in a plane!
How many times had Tony wished he'd been on that plane that day? How many times did he still wish it? Even though, deep down, he was afraid of dying. Afraid of death. He didn't handle it well, ever. Not when his parents died, not when Stayne died, not when Coulson died. How could he face something so permanent? Death was so... so very permanent.
He shoved another group of people out of the way, only stopping when he ran straight into the bar, denting the wood with his armor before realizing it was solid, and stopping. There was screaming somewhere close to him, somewhere in front of him. Female screaming. But his vision was too blurry. He couldn't see who it was.
Anthony! You lied to me! You weren't there for me! Every single time your father swung at me you weren't there! Every time those bottles were thrown, you weren't there! You promised to protect me but you didn't! And when that plane went down and I was so scared, so scared! You weren't there! You didn't even show up to the crash site! You ran! You ran and ran until they buried our bodies under make-up and wax and stuck us in a polished, wooden box so you wouldn't have to see the horror of what you left behind. You didn't save us. You can't save anyone. You can't even save yourself!"
"STOP!" Tony roared, lifting his fists high and smashing them through the counter to make room for him to get through. Wood splintered and flew in all directions. Glasses fell, alcohol dropped in huge puddles on the floor. Tony walked forward and grabbed Eve by the collar. He lifted her up, eyes blurry with tears and anger, somehow bringing her into his terrified circumstances. "I told you I was sorry!" He shouted.
Happiness I cannot feel and love to me is so unreal |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by npi6579 on Oct 29, 2012 0:24:07 GMT -5
He didn't want to move anymore. It was that whole fear of dying thing, and after he saw Danii and Cole get tossed around like they were toys, well that almost took the fight out of him. Still over by the man with the spider on his chest, not knowing why he picked this spot. He wanted to be as far away from any spiders. Their creepy, beady eyes, multiple legs, and the icky sticky webbing. Well it was enough to creep him out as a kid, and even as a young adult, he still hated the thought. Just thinking about them gave him the feeling that they were crawling all over his skin.
With the adrenaline pumping in his veins, Logan flicked out his left arm, twitching his wrist, releasing the collapsible sword that was tucked into the arm of his suit jacket. He throw-ables didn't seem to even draw attention to him. The full length sword unfolded from inside itself, and he grasped the handle firmly, even if it was shaking from his nerves. Tony, was firing repulsor blasts from his chest and hands, and all were hitting their targets, surprisingly as the man in the suit seemed to have quite the foul mouth on him, probably due to the amount of alcohol that he more than likely had coursing through his system.
Logan closed his eyes, and was about to move in to attack. He took a deep long breath, trying to clear his thoughts. But when he opened them, he was still in the room, only he was the only one there. Well the only human person. As he looked around, the stone pillars, the glassware, the tables, the ruble that was scattered around, all started turning into his favorite eight legged arachnids. In a matter of seconds, they all had their beady little eyes on him, pincers opening, and closing, their little creaky noises going along with the movement. Frozen. He was frozen. Couldn't move, and all he could do was take deep breaths to keep himself from freaking out. He started to shake from the fear. He blinked and then it was gone. He was back to the scene that he just left. "What in gods name.."[/color] He looked around and noticed that others were dropping as well and Tony was...well smashing through things, having his own mental break. Or drunken rage. It was ever so hard to tell with him.
He noticed the girl before Spidey did. Warning them about the Scarecrow? Whatever the hell that was. Logan turned his head to look where she was pointing, but his vision flashed again. There was nothing but an open door, with a really big, party table sized spider. He swung his sword at it, throwing two of his throwing daggers at its beady eyes.
FLASH. It was just the door. Logan fell to his knees. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew that he didn't like it. He looked at his sword, and before he knew it, it went from the cool hard metal that he knew, to the leg of a spider, that was jerking it away from him "No. No. No. No! This isn't real. Its all in my head."[/color] He shook the leg, and closed and opened his eyes, but it wouldnt go away. The last time he opened his eyes, he was completely covered in them, as the bit him, and crawled all around him. He threw himself to the floor, just rolling around.
"Get them off me. Get them offffff!"[/color]
|
|
|
Post by Bane on Oct 31, 2012 12:15:48 GMT -5
Everything was going as planned; the world was turning to hell. Sure, Loki had been shot by a rather large beam blast that had put him through the bar. Thor had begun bouncing him against the wall, cracking him against the concrete, manhandling the demi-god, but everything else was turning to shit at the hero's feet. Their world, their little legacy, their precious, good night, was all crumbling around them. Crane had decided to join, and now the fear serum was filling the room; thankfully, he himself was immune as his mask acted as a filter.
What he hadn't counted on was a sudden mix of team effort. He took a shot to the chest from Danii as she flew through the air, a solid smack that, although not flooring the unbelievably built beast, stumbled him. Next, was a shield to the side of his skull; he certainly didn't appreciate it as he growled, holding his head by wrapping an arm around the impact zone. Finally, an Iron Man blast to his chest - that took his feet away from under him. Ohh, he was certainly angry now - but his angry was much worse than other people's angry. It was controlled, conserved, and when it was released...dangerous.
He lay quiet for a moment, giving people the impression he was perhaps down and out. Giving them a moment to relax. And then? He kipped up suddenly, giving a growl. He was face-to-face with Cole. Wrong place, wrong time to try your leap, kid. Bane wasn't wasting much time as he followed through with a rather solid elbow, going for the cheek. He wanted to get some space between himself and the various agents, and fast. Cole was just the first casualty he was going to inflect.
Next up was Washington; she had landed behind him, and without hesitation, he turned with a knee for the gut, stepping back to take a big right hook for the side; a rib-shot impending. If it hit right, she'd have faced a rather broken set right there. Bane was big, Bane was powerful, and Bane knew the SHIELD bombshell healed so much better than her buddies on the helicarrier. He knew that her looks could kill; they did. She was nothing to be underestimated, so with that in mind, he was going to break her. Put her out of his way.
The fish were still coming to fry - he had two more to worry about. One of them was struggling to the affects of Crane's gas, which meant he could focus on the stronger threat. Naturally stronger, anyway. The Captain, good old Mister Patriot, America's pride. Bane knew his work, his history, Steve Rogers was supposed to be the face of American manpower, all things good about it, the face of the American dream. The face of the America Bane was so disgusted by. An eye for an eye, he quickly grabbed a table, and launched it straight for Steve. He knew that his shield would likely resist it, and with that in mind, Bane charged behind it so that he could follow up; a huge boot placed right on the star. As soon as he connected, he put all his force behind it; it wasn't a kick, it was an almighty shove.
That meant he could turn on the grounded opponent. The man clad in metal - this would be one of the easier moments. Using his feet, Bane cleared the floor of stray wood and anything that could cushion a shock impact even slightly. He grabbed at the neck of the suit, right behind Tony's head, and then grasped a leg, raising Stark overhead, and holding. This was his proof of power moment; there was no way, in all that metal, Tony was a light individual.
"Mr. Stark, I presume. Iron Man. I've heard of you, your company - I should tell you now, I am no fan. I assume you understand the concept of physics, Mr. Stark. What happens here, what I do now, is what I plan to do to your company. Consider this a direct correlation moment. What goes up, Mr. Stark, must come down."
With that, he gave an almighty push up, launching Tony straight up in the air, and then taking a step back. As he came crash landing down - easily clearing seven feet high considering Bane's height itself, plus the upward shove - Bane stepped back, and with the right moment, pressed his hand to the dropping Tony Stark, putting extra push to his chest. The sickening sound of his body hitting the ground filled the room suddenly. It would have to turn heads.
He grasped the mask that had been removed earlier, and raised it, looking it over as he placed a heavy boot on Tony's chest, holding him down as he analysed the metal work.
"I have broken you, Mr. Stark, and next I will destroy your livelyhood. This world will be better off without your input and control, believe me."
He leaned down, swinging the helmet to strike Stark across the face, dragging with yet another crunch; that had to be a nose breaker - it left blood pouring from it. Another in the opposite direction clapped the downed Iron Man across the mouth this time, busting his lip open. Stepping back, Bane took his final shot; driving the helmet straight down at Stark's chest with a violent downward's throw; hard aimed thrust shooting metal on metal - it sent the helmet bouncing across the room.
Stepping back, the bat breaker audibly chuckled to himself, gazing around the various party goers who were either struggling with the toxins, or who had come to watch the impacts on their comrade and friend. Bane seemed to care next to none about the treatment of Iron Man - what he saw was necessary inhumanity for a better tomorrow. The breaking of one that was for the good of many. So he would say.
[/blockquote]
|
|
|
Post by buckybarnes on Oct 31, 2012 12:51:15 GMT -5
As they prepped to jump, Bucky blinked a little, unable to help as he smirked to himself. The nerves were floating in his stomach, and he hadn't expected such a drastic turn and change of entry; but the military had trained them not to run from anything, to fear nothing, that sometimes the scarier way of doing things was better. They had to rise to that challenge; they were soldiers. He was the Winter Soldier, and Steve was Captain America. They could do this, and he trusted Rogers' judgement, he trusted it over the judgement of any other man. Here they went. "Just like old times, huh? Lets do this, Cap!"
And with that, they were jumping, roping in and through the window, swinging in to hit the glass and wood covered floor. As his boots planted, he took a sharp intake of breath - Jesus, the carnage. Dead, dying and struggling innocents in the middle of a super-powered warzone. He quickly spotted the body of a face down Boris; SHIELD agents weren't lasting in this conflict either. It was carnage. He turned to Steve and nodded, pulling his gun free and readying to take part, the carbine rifle sat comfortably in his hands.
He turned to look at Loki, and as he had expected them to take him in a fight, Thor had joined the party, after another agent had managed to shoot the demi-god across the floor. It was a sigh of relief, even with his augmented arm, with what he had witnessed the man do, he couldn't see himself doing too well in combat with the being. He would try, he would give it everything he had, but that didn't mean he would have been entirely happy about it. That left only one - Bane. He was a behemoth, but far more managable.
Steve had taken command, of course - the star spangled man certainly had a plan, and as he pat his long-time friend and partner on the shoulder, Bucky's attention turned. "I'll cover the innocents and try and get them out of here, we gotta get them out as soon as we can. Make the call if you need me to shift attention. Good luck, Cap." That was where he moved his direction; quickly running across the floor, he began to help Spidey in the movement of the innocents across the floor, trying to get them out the door.
It was about to get very difficult, though, as gas had began pumping into the room. A gunshot went off, and Bucky threw himself over a young group, covering in case it was meant for them, instinctively ready to take the bullet. Fortunately, it was for Iron Man - while that wasn't exactly positive, at least he wore a metal suit more prepared to take such impact. The civilians were just flesh and bone. Sure that it was safe for now, he continued. The doors were tough to budge, and it left him with one option.
"Spider guy, cover the folks, let me worry about the door. People, step back!" He moved up quick, right in front of the crowd, before pumping his bullets into the hinges of the door, blowing them out of the solid oak, before stepping in to punch with his left, dropping the massive oak suddenly. They were clear, they could move - he didn't want them to go near the windows, not with the lightning outside, and the chance that they could have found themselves in the way of any stray fire.
As they plowed out the room, he stepped in just in time to watch Bane boot Steve, moving him well across the room - he was about to take his shot, ready to fire, taking his scope sight. He had Bane in his sights; until something strange happened. He saw something, out the corner of his eye. His targets, people dying in various ways, faces he knew. They were his work. His targets. His time as a supposed Russian, it was all playing out before him like some sort of horror themed play, the screams and sounds of their deaths, their families, all filling his head. He dropped the rifle and held his head, going horribly silent and gritting his teeth.
He couldn't do this. It was up to Steve, for now.
[/blockquote]
|
|
|
Post by Cole "Grifter" Cash on Nov 5, 2012 1:23:15 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true] Dude. That light-heandedness was so peculiar. Different in a way from anytjing Cole had ever experienced before in the war and in all his years fighting. As Bane's gigantic fist swung towards him suddenly his brain got a notion and started to insist that he was choking. A wave of panic overwhelmed him, and he flailed helplessly mid-leap. Narrowly missing Bane's punch, Cole threw himself to the ground and pounded a fist on the floor. Shards of broken glass ripped into the tender part of his hand. All he could do was sit there and swear in a cracked, weak voice. It was like, suddenly all the vitality had been drained out of him, all the fight and power. Maybe even the will to go on. That had been no ordinary gas... It was something a lot worse. Only a few things could being one as strong as Cole to their knees like this. As he tried to focus and think he found it was becoming more and more impossible. His head swam dangerously, and every single person in the room started to look like Lady Zannah... the Coda trained hero had never felt more like he was going to die in his life. Yes, he would die there, laying on the floor, yearning for his white-haired lover, killed by some villain that hated his guts... Oh, a lament for dying. As much as Cole wanted to live he knew that he couldn't count on the fact much longer. In the confusion his body yearned for the window. Inch by inch, he crawled toward the shattered panes, red streaks smeared across the floor from his bleeding hands and shins. No normal human would have been able to withstand the pain and neural overload, but he wasn't a normal human. He was a chosen one, a mutant, they called him over in this new universe. Still he was renedered perfectly helpless, like a newborn baby. Eventually, after a long five minutes of writhing around on the floor he couldn't take it anymore. He curled up in a ball and closed his eyes, whimpering. Open and vulnerable. Like a dying kitten.
tags: All y'all at the Angeles Ball... Which rhymes. word count: 359 notes: Man... I underestimated that toxin... Please don't kill Cole :'(
|
|
|
|
For SCIENCE!
Love is when you want a kiss and you get bit
|
|
Post by Eve Amherst on Nov 8, 2012 4:49:30 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: url(http://oi42.tinypic.com/34fkzk9.jpg) center bottom no-repeat; outline: 2px solid #000; width: 500px; height: 490x; padding: 0px;, bTable]Eve couldn't move, paralyzed where she stood with fear as tears rolled down her cheeks because in her mind she felt if she moved she would go falling over the edge of the building. Heights. Heights had always been her biggest fear, ever since she had been a little girl it was what scared her the most, it was almost illogical, nothing particularly bad had ever happened to her on a rooftop, but even now she couldn't bring herself to step to the large glass widows in her office because she was so scared of seeing just how far away the ground was. But she couldn't move, afraid the wind would blow her over, it was so strong this high up, and she was quickly finding it harder to breath as the moments passed. Eve couldn't tell if it was the wind stealing her breath or the fear that was choking her up but she couldn't bend and gasp for air or she'd fall, couldn't do anything but stand stock still and pray that she didn't go tumbling over that ledge because no one would be there to save her, she was going to die if she fell. There was no way this could get any worse, and normally she would have yelled at herself for thinking that if it hadn't been for the panic lacing through her, making logical thought seem totally impossible. She could hear the sounds of things being smashed over the roaring of the wind in her ears, it was carrying a voice with it that made her cry harder. No, no no no she couldn't be hearing him, he was dead, six feet under! Eve and her brother had gone to his funeral just to make sure he was really dead, had celebrated at his wake and spit on his grave. They had buried him, she was not hearing her grandfather screaming at her, he was never supposed to be able to scream at her again. Her grandfather was pulling her away from the ledge, but she was still to close, and now would rather have gone over the edge then face this man again. Evie couldn't breath, being lifted off ground by the front of her dress and shaking her head frantically, "No no no your not here, you're dead!" She was screaming at him but he was screaming back in that thick accent a person only developed from having to spend time on the dirty streets of Gotham, reminding her that she was a failure, screaming about a woman's place in the world. He had always been such a bastard, "You're dead, you're dead, we buried you!" It was turning into an incoherent babble, chanting it over and over though she could barely breath like it would be enough to save her from this nightmare. He was lifting his belt again, the same look in his eye like that time he nearly beat her brother into a coma after they stole that car. She still had the scar from that night, but Grandmother wasn't hear to stop him and she thought her heart would stop from fear so she shoved at him as best she could. The collar of her dress ripped and she dropped, her only saving grace as she curled up in a ball on the floor crying and tugging at her hair in her own distress, chanting over and over again the date he died, because he was dead, he had to be dead. [style=padding: 0px 15px; font-size: smaller;] Words: 600 Music: Rise and Fall - Gemini Outfit: clickyNotes: oh she is freaking out. thanks tony [/style] |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 9, 2012 5:33:55 GMT -5
THE WAR IS WON [style=border-right:10px solid #0066CC; letter-spacing:0px; border-top:10px solid #0066CC; background-color:#000000; padding: 3px; font-family:arial; font-size:10px; text-align:justify; line-height:9px; ] The Star-Spangled Avenger was struck forcibly in the chest by Bane's huge boot. Bane's boot hit Cap right in the star emblem on his suit, which was every bit of insulting, as it sent him flying through the air from the impact of the kick. Cap crashed down on a nearby pile of wooden rubble, and immediately tried to rise up to his feet, so he could teach this bully a lesson. Bane was a bully indeed, someone who used their strength and power to overwhelm the weak and feeble. Cap disliked that with a passion, because he knew all to well what it felt like to have someone disparage you for being puny. Cap understood the value of strength and used it to help those who are intimidated by a ruffian like Bane.
Suddenly, the conditions of the surroundings in the ball quickly changed. Cap heard Bucky's voice amidst all the action taking place, but then it faded away, and so did everyone else in the room. The room started to get cold, ice cold, as small white ice crystals started forming all over the walls, ceiling, and floor. Cap had cold breath and started shivering, as if he was being frozen all over again, which was a frightening feeling for him. The Super-Soldier Serum started to leave Cap's body as he became puny again. He was now small, frail, and weak like he used to be back when he lived in Brooklyn as a kid. "What is happening to me!?" Cap's cold shivering voice muttered out.
Shockingly, undead Nazi soldiers appeared from the mist of the cold fog surrounding Cap in the room. The undead Nazi soldier ghouls looked furious, as they snatched Cap, pulling him easily from the rubble since he no longer had the Super-Soldier Serum at the moment. "Get away from me! Just leave me alone!" Cap pleaded to them, as he fought back, but to no avail. It all felt like a horrible nightmare where Cap couldn't control what happened next. He was forced to go with the flow of this unpleasant experience for now, and it felt very real, but something didn't seem right.
Unbeknownst to Cap, he was feeling the full affects of the fear gas by now that was put forth by Scarecrow, and it was terrible to experience to say the least. The Nazi ghoul soldiers forcefully dragged Cap who continued to struggle against them, but it was nothing more than a drawback for him, as he was now their prisoner. Being a Nazi prisoner was the worse, and Cap knew that from the Holocaust and WWII, because they treated Americans as rats who were beneath Nazis in the chain of life. They thought of Americans as unworthy to be treated as human beings, and the Nazi ghoul soldiers were dragging Cap to torture him. The Nazi's torture methods were ruthless and cruel, as they all appeared in an old WWII torture chamber. The Nazi ghoul soldiers immediately strapped Cap to a metal frame and began subjecting him to electric shock. Cap tried to fight against the electric shock, but it was just to much, as he let out scream after scream of pain.
Cap started to put up a fight from the torture, constantly struggling to not give in, and unexpectedly with every electric shock came a voice of hope. "Remember Steve, a weak man knows the value of strength, the value of power." Dr. Erskine voice spoke out in Cap's head. "You can do it, Steve. Fight it, I believe you can do it, I know you can." Another voice was heard by Cap, and one he had missed for so long, as it was Peggy's voice that pierced threw him just like the electric shocks that he was receiving.
The next and final voice spoke out to Cap, which brought him to deep sorrow. "You're so much like your father, Stevey. A born dreamer, but there's something you've got to remember. Even if your every dream comes true, it won't mean a thing unless you've reached out and helped others along the way. Don't ever forget that, Stevey. I love you. Your fight for the dream of liberty is not over, so fight threw this my son. I am very proud of what you have become and so is your father. Now break threw this." It was the voice of his mother, which filled Cap with heavy willpower, overwhelming self-control, which was caused from the Super-Soldier Serum fighting off the affects of the fear gas.
Cap's enhanced body and strength returned, as he easily escaped from the electric torture shock. He easily broke from the straps, then quickly engaged into a battle with the Nazi ghoul soldiers, while the real fight in reality continued. Cap was still trapped within this nightmare, but he was moments away from breaking out of it.
[/style]
|
|
|
Does whatever a spider can
|
|
Post by Peter "Spider-Man" Parker on Nov 9, 2012 6:57:51 GMT -5
hope dangles on a string, trace the moment fall forever Vindicated - - - - - Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man[style=margin-top: -10px; margin-right: -10px; border: #fff 1px dashed; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; width: 360px; height: 200px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 15px; background-color: #0F0F0F; color:#8E8A8E;filter: alpha(opacity=50); -moz-opacity: .50; opacity:.50;] Normally Spidey was one for jokes, but the experience with the couple provided an extremely sobering moment for him, enough to even hold his tongue of wise-cracks. Peter straightened his shoulders, though all around he was very tensed. There was just so much death in the room, so many loved one lost. "Dammit, this was supposed to be a party." fists trembling at his sides, Peter inhaled sharply and held his breath, trying to steady his mind and leave the anger out of the equation. He exhaled slowly. This was not a time for blind rage or vengeance. Spider-Man always operated best when he was free from tension, loose and unstressed. His neck and shoulders felt heavy, but tonight was not a night to think about the past. There was a very real present to attend to. Lives were at stake and Peter needed to play the hero, and win.
Logan somehow relaxed him, distracted his mind from circling around thoughts he did not need to be having at the moment. "They'll just let anyone in here..." he muttered, turning towards Logan. "Oh no, my friends are the ones that don't look like they stepped out of a Game of Thrones episode." he nodded towards Loki and Bane.
Bucky then cued him to protect the survivors while he cleared more exits. "You got it, dude." he said, giving Bucky a quick thumbs up while he shot a stream of web on some part of the ceiling that still held and swung over to the front lines as directed, where the last of the people were straggling to run to the exits.
His attention diverted from Bane and Logan to a civilian in trouble. He rushed over, putting an arm around the man for support. "Don't worry, I've got you. We're going to get you out of here, understood? Just relax and I'll get you out of here in no time." Peter gave the man a moment to collect himself before he scooped him up and out the exits along with the other survivors, but as soon as Pete made an effort to help him to his feet he felt a sharp searing pain in his arm. "What the-"He released Mad Dog just as quickly and hissed in pain. Dammit, this joker found out his weakness- tiny knives. Huh.
Then he heard his name called out in a panic.
"Huh?" Get who? Peter darted his head at Eve only to sense something very wrong in the air itself. It started to dig at his arm, a searing hot pain erupting from the place where Mad Dog had stabbed him. Every pain sensor was flooding, rippling across his skin. Peter grabbed at his wound, hoping to stop it from bubbling forth any more, somehow in vain hoping to keep whatever was happening sealed inside of him. But no end came.
Peter could only watch in horror as his body was morphing into something horrible, but the last coherent vision he was met with was not his own form, but Bane breaking Tony's over his knee. Whatever strength Peter had left inside of him to stand went at the bone-chilling echo of Tony's broken structure. He'd met this man. He was one of his own personal heroes, and now he was being shattered as easily as though he were a man made of glass and not iron. "TOONYY!" he screamed, crashing to the floor trying to run at Bane in a vain attempt to save Iron Man.
His flesh warped and tore around the wound, peeling away at his suit and leaving his bits of broken skin hanging off of him and melting to the ground. Spindly limbs replaced his own, an exoskeleton extending from his bones and contorting under him at odd angles. Several more pairs of legs arched out of his spine, ripping through the skin carelessly and leaving Spider-Man writhing on the floor. He couldn't hear Bucky call on him to watch the door, or Eve's voice crying out to the dead. He couldn't hear the other screams in the room anymore. The world was silent, and he was alone.
This was his greatest fear. All of his doubts about his abilities, all his guilt and sorrow, self-loathing, compounded and pyscho-somatically transferred itself into this. He was a monster, something to be hated and feared, void of love and exiled from the world by his own hideous form. When Peter reached towards his face, the nightmare became real. His hands trembled as they discovered new horrors. So many eyes, so many terrible, obsidian eyes- and they were his.
Peter didn't want to see any more. He didn't want to see at all, and he immediately realized he didn't have to see- if he clawed out each one of his countless eyes, and blinded himself.
Worst of all, somewhere deep inside of him, Peter Parker felt he deserved this. Somehow, this felt right.
_______Tag: Mad Dog, Bucky, Logan, Bane, Tony, Eve, and everyone. | Words: 851 | Lyrics: Vindicated- Dashboard Confessional | Outfit: Spidey Suit| Notes: Fear toxin is not fun. TEMPLATE BY VIKA OF CAUTION.
|
|
|
"Let's face it. This is not the worst thing you've caught me doing."
|
|
Post by Tony "Iron Man" Stark on Nov 9, 2012 22:24:46 GMT -5
I need someone to show me the things in life that I can't find I can't see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: B8B8B8; border: #550505 solid 4px; width: 400px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]
The glowering form of Howard Stark was still being raised by his collar, legs swinging above the ground as Tony suspended him by his lapel. A smirk adorned his face.
"Failure." And with that word, Howard Stark shoved his way out of Tony's hands, his collar ripping in the iron grip. He crumpled to the floor.
It was at about that moment that Tony tried to step forward, only to feel something slam down on the back of his neck. Before he could figure out what it was, his leg was swept out from underneath him and he was suddenly being raised into the air. The lights in the ceiling were blindingly bright, almost as bright as the sun, and he raised a hand to block the light from his face.
Why was he flying? He wasn't flying.... He'd just been standing a moment before. The suit's flight stabilizers hadn't fired up... had they?
And then he heard a voice that he wasn't expecting to hear, but it reminded him of what exactly was going on. It was Bane's voice.
"Mr. Stark, I presume. Iron Man. I've heard of you, your company - I should tell you now, I am no fan. I assume you understand the concept of physics, Mr. Stark. What happens here, what I do now, is what I plan to do to your company. Consider this a direct correlation moment. What goes up, Mr. Stark, must come down."
JARVIS was shouting something in Tony's ear, but the millionaire playboy couldn't hear his A.I. anymore, nor could he hear the alarms and warnings that JARVIS's foresight data was giving him.
All he could hear were Bane's words. Suddenly his armor felt ten thousand pounds too heavy and Tony couldn't even lift his arms. He struggled to move, to get away, to avoid what he very quickly realized was coming, but he couldn't move. It was as if he was paralyzed in his own suit, like when he'd come crashing back to Earth after releasing that missile into the Chi'tauri army.
No, he couldn't let this happen. He couldn't. He had to stop this! He had to do something, save himself. Save himself.
"You didn't save us. You can't save anyone. Not even yourself." Howard Stark's cold words rang through Tony's ears as clearly as if he'd been standing there, speaking to him. And he wasn't just referring to this situation as Bane threw him up into the air. As Tony came crashing back down and he heard the faint scream of his name by someone across the room, he knew what his father was really talking about.
And he was right.
It would kill him. If he didn't die now, it would only prolong the atrophy that he called life. The alcoholism would kill him.
And those were the last thoughts that went through the Man of Iron's mind as the world around him suddenly came into focus too quickly and gravity increased with the added weight of a boot on his chest. The room was too bright, the sounds too loud, and the face of Bane directly above him.
CRASH!
Wood splintered. Cement crumbled like sand beneath his suit. The sound of titanium scraping against the unforgiving ground shrieked across the room to ring in the ears of everyone present. The snap of his neck and the bone-crushing crunch of the back of his head bouncing off of the floor were uproarious in his ears. His vision went black as the concussion immediately took control. He fought to stay awake, to stay conscious, struggling to breathe with the impact of his armor into his chest. The titanium alloy had withstood the crash into the floor and the internal dampeners (which were designed to withstand a wreck into the earth's surface from 30,000+ feet up) cushioned his fall. There wasn't much damage to his back. But his unprotected head was another story. And now it was bleeding from a cut that gouged into the back of the base of his skull.
The front of his armor, however, had a nice big dent in it shaped like Bane's hand, and only got bigger as the brute pressed down harder. The protective glass casing around his arc reactor snapped and crunched like gravel under a boot. Tony screamed out in pain as the arc reactor was pressed deeper into his chest.
He scrambled to get up, only flailing helplessly under the strength of Bane's arm. He scratched and clawed at him, only getting relief when Bane finally decided to stop crushing him. Tony breathed in deeply, ruggedly, and was certain that his ribs were, at the very least, cracked.
"I have broken you, Mr. Stark, and next I will destroy your livelihood. This world will be better off without your input and control, believe me."
"You're probably right...." Tony muttered through a wheezing breath, blinking to try and get his vision back, but it was only coming in bits and pieces. Waves of color and darkness would come to take him, making him struggle harder to stay awake. His mind was so foggy... so fuzzy.
And he felt like he was suffocating. Without the pressure of Bane's hand against his chest, Tony ripped and pulled at his own armor, trying to get it out of him, keep it from embedding itself deeper into his flesh and squeezing his his lungs. But he couldn't. It seemed the more he tried the harder it became to breathe.
And then the sound of footsteps and Tony's vision righted itself once more, just in time to witness Bane hovering above him again.
Down came the helmet. Tony gasped and tried to put up an arm to protect himself, but he was too late. His neck was yanked to the right as the metal came down, grating across his face, snapping the bones in his nose and gushing blood from his nostrils across the floor to his right. Again, his vision faded and he lay, disoriented and broken, on the floor, helpless to guard against the second hit- back across his face, scraping his chin and mouth, ripping open his lip.
Wasn't he done yet? Even the Ten Rings hadn't broken him this badly. Why did Bane want to hurt him so badly? What was it about Tony Stark, or Stark Industries for that matter, that threatened him?
Then the terrifying thought struck him. Bane didn't want to hurt Tony... he wanted to kill him. Kill him. Take the life from him. As in, dead.
A cold shiver of terror washed through the Man of Iron. The last time he'd come so close to death was when he was being held for ransom by the Ten Rings. But even then Tony'd had a plan. Tony always had a plan.
But not now. As Bane drove his helmet into his chest, a piece of loose armor slicing through his suit and into his skin, his arc reactor burning hotly inside his body, Tony realized that for the first time in his life he didn't have a plan. All he could do was gasp in agony and scream, watching his helmet bounce across the room and his would-be murderer walk away chuckling.
Tears stung at the eyes in the blood-covered face of Tony Stark. The ironically metallic taste of his own blood in his throat caused him to lurch and cough, only succeeding in sputtering up beads of crimson liquid to splash the metal of his remaining armor.
"The toxin in the air can be filtered out using the filtration system in your helmet, Sir. The helmet. Get the helmet." JARVIS repeated over and over in Tony's ear, trying to keep the semi-conscious man from actually passing out.
Tony rolled his head to the side. He could see a very blurry red and golden-armored helmet, scratched and splattered with blood several yards away, resting in a pile of rubble on the floor. If only he could reach his helmet.
But he couldn't. He could barely breathe, let alone move. He was going to die here, wasn't he? He would have to face that darkness, that despair... all alone. Just like his parents had to. Just like Coulson had to. He was helpless to stop it.
"Like hell I am," he growled out, opening his eyes. Sticky crimson liquid matted his eyelashes together, but his vision was beginning to return. Everything was still blurry though. If he was going out, he was damn sure he wasn't going out alone.
Tony lolled his head to the other side, letting it roll across the hard ground so he didn't have to lift it, and watched the retreating form of Bane.
With great effort, he lifted one armored arm and balled his fist, pointing it straight at Bane. A panel on his forearm lifted and beneath it revealed a tiny silver missile. Tony squinted and aimed at Bane's back before the missile was released and Tony's arm flopped back to the ground.
If it hit, it would cause an explosion big enough to send the brute through the wall. If it didn't... well, it would hit something. Tony only hoped it would hit someone that deserved it.
He let his body relax then, closing his eyes as darkness, yet again, encroached upon his vision.
Happiness I cannot feel and love to me is so unreal |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
The God of Thunder
|
|
Post by Thor Odinson on Nov 10, 2012 2:45:30 GMT -5
So you would take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights - - The God of Thunder[style=margin-top: -10px; margin-right: -10px; border: #fff 1px dashed; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; width: 360px; height: 200px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 15px; background-color: #0F0F0F; color:#8E8A8E;filter: alpha(opacity=50); -moz-opacity: .50; opacity:.50;]
"What madness could tempt you here? The sceptor? Loki, you do not need such poison." His mind was already clouded enough. Thor urged him to give up his schemes, to come home quietly so that they may all find closure and help their brother. There was also the matter of his punishment, but those were not Thor's motives. He was asked by their mother to bring her son home, and Thor would listen. Loki had been gone far too long, and although Thor had no false delusions in his mind about returning things to as they were, he hoped that they could help Loki find peace.
"You mustn't do this." he began, but then his attentions were diverted for that brief second to the sound of a young man's voice calling out to Tony Stark- and in that moment he found himself with another one of Loki's knives pointed rather decidedly at his heart.
Thor knew Loki in this mind state did not, would not hesitate to execute that blade through his chest. Reflected in Loki's eyes were hatred and malice, but all Thor could see were the ghost of memories of their childhood, of their time spent as brothers, a title Thor refused to relinquish, no matter how much Loki fought against it. He was his brother.
It was then Thor noticed the terrified forms of the heroes and civilian Midgardians alike. Their faces expressed the image that their minds were vacant, lost and trapped inside a box of horrors. "By the Gods old and new, what in the name of Odin has trespassed in this place...?" He needed to end this quickly to aid his fellow warriors against the one known as Bane. He and Loki were unaffected, the weight had shifted upon Thor to save them. But first? Loki.
Inpatient, Thor leaned into the end of the blade, the weapon grazing his chest and cutting into first skin of his flesh. He squared his shoulders and help his ground, not even the slight trace of a wince of pain upon him. "You mustn't do this, brother." he said again. "I do not wish to use forceful measures, but if I must." he let the knife embed into his chest and then hoisted Loki to slam him into the rubble behind him.
_______Tag: NXXX | Words: ### | Lyrics: Thor Quote | Outfit: XXX | Notes: XXX. TEMPLATE BY VIKA OF CAUTION.
|
|
|
Ice in my Veins, Blood in my Eyes.
|
|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Nov 10, 2012 6:44:01 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true]So Cut Out The Heart And Watch the World Burn Down
"You are thick as ever, I would not be so Hel bent on an item if I did not need it so dearly." He snarled out to his not brother. Thor never saw what was needed until it was always far to late. That night on the cliffs in the Black Forests of Germany, he had been so close. Then his friend in the Iron suit who was, much to Loki's demented pleasure, broken by the masked leviathan. " I was only ever poisoned by lies, Lies fed by Odin and corroborated by others" He was no fool. This was what he needed, Loki needed it to get out of his proverbial deal with the devil with glowing blue eyes. A devil who first appeared in the guise of a saint.
Thanos had been the one to lift him back up when Asgard cast him out. When he was broken and held not the will to really live, or rather the wish to. Though when they saw fit, The Other as well could tear into him more so then anything upon the nine realms could hope to. A torture more foul then any conceived.
If Loki could only have the faith left in Thor or Odin to help him with this, he may have. There was a time when he wanted it. When he wanted what was once his family to save him when he needed them the most. Broken mentally and physically upon some barren plain. Exhausting himself night after night of endless nights, trying to reach them. Pleading to the Stars in the sky that they would. But he was meet with nothing. That was the first time.
An then again after the planned to fail attack on new york, and he failed to leave with the scepter back to Asgard, when the Chitauri broke him out. Only to torture him for his failure before sending Loki back to Midgard to retrieve the lost weapon. He cursed them, their name and all that Thor and Odin stood for.
"I have to." There was almost a plea-ful nature in his voice. He had no other choice. However as the state of things caught his attention as well as Thor's he could not help but laugh at it all. Here they were, the worlds self proclaimed mightiest reduced to terror. A figure at the door seemed to be a catalyst for it all. Clever, what ever it was.
Loki felt the sudden pressure on the blade, Thor was leaning into it, the oaf. An only to yet again keep on with what he did not understand. "I have no choice. " He snarled out, keeping a firm grasp on the blade. He cared not for the words that followed, but the actions however. Loki could do little, save for twist the knife in his hand once Thor once again slammed him into the rubble behind him.
His head cracked painfully against something broken, enough to daze him as his spine and the back of his ribs echoed in their own pain. He cried out in a moment of pain, clenching his eyes shut. Thor was not pulling punches. He had let got of the blade to Grasp Thor's wrists with both hands now. "Do us both a favor," He rasped out in pain, "Why not just Kill me and save the world from future slights."
His words were but a plot, a distraction, Long enough for Loki to focus his magic upon a thick metal cable upon the walls, tearing it from its sockets. It moved like a snake collied in the air, Wrapping its way around Thor's throat. Pulling tight.
Lets Tear it apart, Lets leave a Mark {ᛚᛟᚴᛁ} |
|
|
|
Hope is the Last to Die
|
|
Post by "Mad Dog" Norman Mars on Nov 12, 2012 16:29:59 GMT -5
It will never fail to amaze Mad Dog how naive and trusting the human race was in every situation imaginable Burning buildings? They’re sure to save the pets with no regard from they’re safety. Titanic sinking? “Women and children first!” Over the years Mad Dog had developed a theory that the only reason the so called “Heroes” felt the need to use their powers to help others and not themselves was to satisfy a deep subconscious need to have to justly their own feeble existent. As if by saving a few banks from being robbed they can somehow erase the mistakes of the past. Selfishness. It was at the core of everything they have ever or will ever do…There was no doubt about it. He was the only pure life form in this world, ironically it was because he allowed his soul to corrupted in everywhere that set him free. Its only after you accept everything held precious its worthless and is slowly rotting away into nothing you can become free. Case in point. The moment Spider-man extending his arm toward Mad Dog he slashed at it with his knife and stood up to his full height. Sorry Bug boy. Your name isn’t going in the papers this time… According to the scrip he had planned out his mind this should be the part where he engages in a fight with the human spider, toying with him at first than striking quickly putting Spider-man out of his misery and fulfilling his little deal with Mr. Angeles, however in a quite .unexpected turn Spider man abruptly fell to the floor and started rocking back and forward and muttering something about Spiders? And deserving something or other? What the hell was going on? Mars watched the spectacle for quite some time before a devilish grin started to form on his face. Wasn't it obvious what was going on? The Spider has snapped. It looked like after a lifetime of self loathing and carrying the responsibility of the world on his shoulders it has finally taken its toll…poor guy…He was like a horse struggling to stand on a broken leg…. And we all know what we do with race horses with broken legs don’t we? Mars slowly approached the fallen spider and leaned down so his mouth was only inches away from where his mask was hiding his ear and spoke in a voice full of mock pity. “There, there little spider…its almost over.”With that Mars stood over the hero’s prone body with the intent to finish the job. His eyes flashed with anticipation…his breath quicken in excitement…he could almost feel his knife vibrating in his hand as if it wanted to covered in the spider’s blood. He raised the knife high over his head with both arms and started to force it in a downward angle….but stopped himself. Something was wrong… It Didn’t matter how disturbed the hero in question was, they don’t just collapse on the floor without just reason. But what exactly was that reason? Mars was sure he could piece it together…if he could think clearly, but his felt…unfocused, almost woozy. It was almost as if the air itself was thinning out, Mars was struggling to breath now. What was going- Wait what was that girl screaming about? Something about a- “FUCK!”It was Crane. It had to be, the symptoms all fit, and if all he heard about the good doctor and his toxins were true…he needed to get out. Now! That son of a bitch Angles! Mars cursed himself for not realizing sooner he had some kind of insurance policy. It was getting hard to form coherent thought now…he was falling…falling…falling into the dark… He was cold . That much he knew for certain. He was cold and alone. Mars heard the sound of whispered voices all around him all talking at once. “FREAK!” “MONSTER!” “POOR KID!” “WEIRDO!” Suddenly he was no longer at the glamorous Angeles Ball but a place he was all to familiar with…He was in a tiny room, well room was being kind… It was nothing more than a cell. The walls were tiled colourfully but long ago, now thick with dust and grime. Only one small window allowed light to penetrate the gloom, and that was barred so thoroughly that barely a shaft of warmth could find a way in that comforting sunshine served only as a reminder of how trapped somebody really was in here, looking out on a world that seemed so far removed from the creepy decoration of their confined living space and Mad Dog knew this fact all to well…he had spent must of his life confined in the room and it still haunted his nightmares…In a blind panic Mars tried to move, but found his couldn't. Mars looked down and immediately regretted it as he saw his old straight jacket holding him in it iron embrace. Now fully imprisoned in this nightmare he tries in vain to escape running franticly into each wall multiple times receiving only a sharp pain every time he did. “ PSYCHO!” “YOUR MOMMY’S A WHORE!” “HEY MARS MY DADDY GOT ME A PUPPY! WHAT DID YOUR’S GIVE YOU!?” “STAND AWAY FROM US FREAK!” “SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!”It seemed almost every cruel taunt and every school yard insult was runing through his head at insane pace over and over again, louder and louder! Louder and louder intensifying every second and everyone felt like a razor blade through the skull. Mars shut his eyes and started shaking his head side to side in a despite attempt to block out the voices, but to know avail. Until Mad Dog was forced to bounced his head against the fortified glass over and over again. “GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! YOU THINK YOU CAN BREAK ME CRANE?! GIVE ME YOUR BEST SHOT! LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA NOT LISTENING I CAN’T HEAR YOU !"Than suddenly it stopped. The voices finally hushed and with that came the dimming of the lights of the lights to the point where Mars couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. For a long time nothing happened. Than suddenly the door opened, bringing with it a fresh breath of iced wind before the door shut with a resounding CLANG! Leaving Mad Dog alone in the dark…but no. He wasn’t alone he could sense the presence of other…of its timed breathing and faint sent of apples that seemed almost familiar. “….Why did you leave me all alone Norm?” Norman stood frozen to the sound of the voice. He knew that voice. Oh God how he played it over in his mind on a daily basic, but this…this was different… Norman couldn’t move Never had he been so petrified by the sound of a single voice. It was all he could hear now, the echoed words “Alone Norm”. Norman studied the voice of this demon, the pitch almost just like he had imagined it would sound. Sickly sweet, as he often imagined it was, the voice of an angel that held within it malicious designs. It was… a young girls voice. It was… beautiful, melodic in nature, yet menacing, horrible, all at once. Norman once again tightly closed his eyes. He wasn’t ready for this presence. Not now. Her voice danced through his mind even in his waking hours…and now it had a form. No matter how much he wished it, no matter how much he willed it, now matter how much he wanted it, he couldn’t wake up. No, he was way too far now into the effects of the fear toxics and it was her that prevented his escape into reality. Rose."Are you… scared? Are you afraid?"Norman’s lips quivered. “Your. Not. Real!”“You didn’t answer my question Norm...”“Yo- Y- You can’t be here! You’re dead!”“I’m so cold Norm…”The figure than began to admit a faint amount of light in order for Norman to see her more clearly. Once again she was exactly how Norman remembered her only…not. There were no warmth in Rose’s eyes anymore, there was no Beaming smile that once apon a time Norman thought could light up his very soul. This rose’s eyes were rolled up to the back of his head so Norman could only see the whites and her mouth was turned down in a never ending frown and there was a small trickle of blood cascading down the side of her mouth…and her skin…she was so palm… the skin of a dead body…She slowly started to advance towards norman, not walk no. She more floated slowly in his direction. “Why did you let me die Norm? I trusted you!”“N-no…please…just a-”“They were right about you! You are a freak!”At these words Norman fell to the ground and started scrambling towards the corner of his cell in a desperate attempt to escape his judgement. “S-stay back! GET AWAY FROM ME!”“Murdering freak!”“DON’T COME NEAR ME!”But still she approached. Edging nearer and nearer…and now the completely wrecked shell of a man that was once Norman Mars. Began scraping at the walls before finally giving a curling into a ball. “No, you not a freak, Norman Mars. You know what you are?”He could feel her now, he could feel her standing before him, he could practically feel her vengeance full spirit look down at him with contempt. “Look at me…I SAID LOOK AT ME!”Norman had no words. All he could do was look up at the girl he had once loved with fear. He quivered. He feared. He froze. As Rose grab his head and force it to look at the whiteness of her eyes “Please…”“I said you know what you are Norman?” Suddently like a great machine coming to life. Roses eyes slowly began to appear yet the skin of her face rippled and blurred, and finally shattered. The pieces of skin, muscle, and bone crumbled off her head. All Norman saw was a grotesquerie, an evil form that had resembled anything like the rose he once knew. this face could possibly be likened to the face of Lucifer himself. Norman had no words. “…A Mad Dog”And at this words Norman Mars screamed.
|
|
|
Post by northstar on Nov 13, 2012 3:12:40 GMT -5
He had grabbed the woman suddenly in attempts to pull her away, but she had responded with a firm slap to his jaw, leaving a rather sizable red hand-print on his cheek; outlining each digit and the palm tremendously well. This was why he wasn't a woman lover, at least not in the sense of physical loving. Outside of sporting the wrong gear, the emotional and physical responses to situations often ended up rather uncomfortable for him. This was no exception, as Jean-Paul was by no means a fan of almost having his face stripped from him like paint - the woman had a hell of a heavy hand on her, that was for sure.
He recoiled from it, though, composed and as calm as he could be - that was half the fight, after all, being calm and controlled through even the most unfavourable of situations - in attempts to perhaps fix the situation. He had to think logically for a moment; a large man had burst in, throwing things and people through the air like it was nothing. Another was fighting with a demi-God, and seemed to be his sibling. The room was in panic, people were dead; she had to be at least a little scared.
"Madame, please! It's okay! I'm an X-Man, I am here to help you! Vous devez venir avec moi! You have to come with me! Please, trust me!"
At that point, things began to get a little...weird. It took him a moment to register it, however after he had, his world had seemed to go into slow motion; time was almost standing still. It was an odd sensation, like a deer caught in the car headlights - and that's when it hit him. He turned to the windows; the sides of his vision blurred, his heart-rate increasing, his world caught in a slow motion paradox. He could see the headlights charging toward the window - too fast that even he couldn't stop them. The pushed and powered, until the car hit the building and smashed, crumpling like weightless, weakened aluminium.
His eyes widened as he saw the pair inside fire forward from their seats, smashing into the windscreen hard enough to crack the glass. Blood was everywhere in the cockpit, and he knew right away who it was inside - he knew he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't do anything for a moment as he froze, his hands by his sides as he did his utmost to bring himself into reality. It couldn't be happening, not again - it could only happen once. The dreams weren't real; they couldn't be real. It could only happen once.
Finally, he managed to bring himself back into the land of the living, return to normal speed within his own mind, as tears had began to stream from his eyes. He had failed to be there saving them the first time, he was failing again - but now he had to watch. He had to see them hit the glass. He had to see them die. it was like his nightmares for real; he wasn't asleep, he wasn't dreaming, it was all happening again before him - even if the rest of the world couldn't see it. His scream couldn't be resisted anymore, no matter how much his body tried to hold back.
"Mama! Pere!..."
He dropped to his knees, blankly staring at the window - helpless, in fact. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could have done. All his speed, and he had failed to save them. He should have been able to get there in time, turn them around or hit the break; keep them from plowing the wall of the building. He should have kept them alive - he should have been able to. But he had failed; both for him and for his sister - he had failed to save the only people they had needed in their lives, again. They had lost them. His heart stung, as he gazed away, his eyes red and bloodshot as the tears streamed from his face, down his cheeks and to the floor. He hadn't managed it, once again. They were lost. Their parents were gone.
[/blockquote]
|
|
|
Falcone Crime Boss
When god is gone and the Devil takes hold who'll have mercy on your soul?
|
|
Post by Dominique Falcone on Nov 17, 2012 3:30:40 GMT -5
D O M I N I Q U E F A L C O N E ! [/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color][/center]
"Madame, please! It's okay! I'm an X-Man, I am here to help you! Vous devez venir avec moi! You have to come with me! Please, trust me!" Dominique stood there for a moment, stared at him. She knew that beautiful language.
"X-Man? Je ne sais pas ce que c'est mais je peux vous assurer que je ne veux aucune partie de celle-ci. Vous faire confiance? You should reconsider that request," She said as she looked back at the crowd, watching as Bane was taking the SHIELD agents and any and all that stood in his way. The heroes were having a hard time putting the machine down, he just bulldozed over their hard earned attempts of defending the innocent and fallen lives in the building. A flashes of lightening and rolls of thunder crashed above the building in the heavens as if the Gods were speaking of their displeasement.
Captain America, Spiderman, Iron Man, Danii Washington and various others were at war with Bane and Loki. She marveled at the God who cleaned the floor with his particular set of abilities. It was then the Thunderer broke through the ceiling which caused her mouth to drop open. It was as if being gorgeous was in the genetic pool as their shouting it was quickly identified that the man was indeed Thor, the God of Thunder and Loki's older brother. Dominique's bright blue eyes traveled the length the walls looking at possible escape routes. The windows were lethal, that broken, jagged glass. The feeling of what it would be like if her hand was brought down upon panes. Her hand twitched a moment, a small pain registered in her brain as her gaze was distant. The wood that had broken off upon the sill was pointed and distorted, large splinters stuck out along the length of the wood. What if she tripped? A flash of the wood lodged in Dom's mind which brought a hand up to her throat.
She took a step back as her heart began to pick up speed. A haze began to cover her brain, her body backed up against the wall as a hand shot out to grab the man who stopped her previously. Her eyes were wide with fear. She had caught who came strolling through the door.
"Get me out of here," She said though she turned her head to look at the man and he was already lost in his own nightmare.
Tiers parted as her lungs took in ragged breaths. She knew what was going on. Her hands touched the back wall as she was hunched over slightly, her face hidden behind her thick locks. Her eyes were shut as the fear toxin had begun to completely disengage herself from reality. She shook her head as tears streamed down her face, she refused to believe it was real.
"No, no, no, not real. It's not real," She muttered as her body slid against the wall until she was crouched and hunched over. Her hands came up to cover her ears in an attempt to block the screaming of her name by terrible voices.
She heard her name shouted by a particular voice, the clown clad in purple and her hair stood on ends. Her eyes opened slowly, she was no longer in the ballroom but rather she was in a warehouse, the warehouse she was found in so many years ago. There he stood with burning red eyes, a blade rolled in his hands as she saw his jacket was off and his sleeves were rolled up. The mob princess swallowed hard as she shook her head, tears stung her eyes. He mimicked her and advanced forward. Dominique moved backwards until she fell into an armchair stained in the blood of a person whose arterial vein had been severed by the broken glass. She let out a small yelp when restraints locked her hands in on the armchair. He didn't speak, he was unusually quiet. Her pleading blue eyes watched him as he moved forward.
"Please! Please! nononononoNONONO!" She begged and exclaimed as she tried to pull her head back and away from his hands. Her eyes stared up at him as the blade slid into her mouth. She felt the sharp edge, her body trembled and quivered with fear, with the tears she was shedding. She shut her eyes hard as she felt the searing pain of the knife as it began to slice through the soft flesh of her cheek. He moved his hand back and forth agonizingly slow so that every single indention in the blade was felt as he cut. Her eyes were glued to the ceiling as her head was pulled back by her hair, she could taste the metallic of her blood as it began to pull in her mouth causing her to sputter. He removed the knife, only three inches in on the first cut to the right side of her mouth and cheek. Her head bowed forward as the blood was emptied from her mouth. He returned his hold, tight in her hair as he began his work yet again making sure the pain she felt was what took every inch of her being.
However, it would just appear that Dominique was sitting in the chair... Screaming and crying at nothing. Though she was not aware of such things. She was being tortured by the Joker and over his shoulder she could see many, many more who waited their turn.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color][/CENTER]
|
|
FORUM SKIN BY KATYA OF GANGNAM-STYLE
do not steal
|