- Location
- USA
nooo~~~ Bruce! Tim! Dick! Jason! Damien! Terry! So much left to chance. 
-
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Bronze Mettle (MCU/DC SI)
- Thread starter Xavier Bronze
- Start date
We just read an oracle take steps to thwart one of their own prophecies.
That's... something I've never seen before.
That's... something I've never seen before.
The Other Guy
Xavier Bronze
The Avatar
- Location
- Metropolis
I'm at the ground entrance to a base somewhere in Oklahoma. Mike and Natasha should be back soon, and Banner with them.
I've been doing nothing but negotiating for days to make this happen. I had to figure out acceptable risk according to Fury. Then acceptable risk according to Oklahoma. Then the even more strict acceptable risk according to Banner. Authorization and procedures to bring Banner inside a secure SHIELD facility. Eventually I even had to write an appeal to the World Security Council. They decided that we could just use the procedures for multi-megaton weapons development.
I don't know how I feel about that. For one thing, the Hulk is potentially much more dangerous than a simple bomb. But I'm also in the process of trying to convince people that he's only as dangerous as other people make him. And on top of that, going through these protocols, I'm not sure how sufficient they are for multi-megaton weapons development.
The van pulls up, and Natasha climbs out of the back, leading Bruce with a bag over his head. Once we're inside she pulls the bag off.
Bruce looks around, "Concrete?"
I nod, "Steel mesh reinforced, five meters thick, with fifteen centimeters of lead. The door is the same kind as the President's panic room. You could set off a Hydrogen bomb inside this base without a single civilian casualty."
Okay, maybe not. The tectonic effects of something like that would probably cause a few fatalities in nearby towns. And the radioactive fallout would probably require a few thousand relocations. And it would kill satellite connectivity across the whole state for a week. But the blast itself would be vastly minimized.
He nods, "Where are we doing this? How do you stay safe?"
I direct his attention to the elevator, "This is just the surface entrance. We'll be going almost a full kilometer down. No-one else is going down with us."
He looks at me, "What about you?"
I shrug, "I'm not going to pick a fight." He seems unconvinced, "I'm wearing the best body armor that still looks non-threatening. I wanted you to set him free at the party. This is the middle ground."
"And what about your friend?"
Oh, right. I guess Bo shouldn't come with us. Every time we have to separate for any reason it gets harder. I pick her off my shoulder and hand her off to Natasha, "Take care of her." I don't even know which of them I was talking to.
Nat looks distinctly unsettled as Bo crawls up her arm, "Just for a few minutes."
I look back at Bruce, asking with an eyebrow if he has any further complaints. He sighs and closes his eyes, "Okay."
The two of us get in the elevator, and it starts going down. This is a fast elevator. Almost as fast as the one in the Daily Planet building. But it still takes almost five minutes to get to the bottom.
At the bottom is a twenty meter radius domed cavern, with only a single flood light at the very top. Rough grain concrete is the only visible surface. It's designed to be extremely durable and cheaply repairable.
We step out, and a minute later the elevator leaves without us. Can't risk it being damaged and stranding us down here.
I shake my head looking at the mandated meeting place, "I didn't want it to be like this."
Bruce doesn't respond. He starts walking to the opposite end of the chamber.
In the dark I can only barely see him on the other end. But once he starts changing, it gets a lot easier. The dot bulges and writhes, expanding in a very unnatural way.
And then I hear the roar. For several seconds, the echo lingers.
The Hulk rips chunks of the floor out and starts throwing them. I see them shattering into dust against different sections of the domed ceiling. One hits above me, and I have to move out of the way of one of the falling pieces.
My footsteps echo across the room, and the Hulk quiets.
And then he jumps. I see the figure rise and briefly silhouette against the light. And then it falls, and grows, and grows, and keeps growing.
An angry Hulk lands three meters away from me with enough force to knock me off my feet. He shouts, and raises his fists overhead. I roll out of the way and see the concrete shatter where I just was.
I roll to a stand and raise my hands in what I hope is recognizably a peaceful gesture. My feet are still primed to run, even though I know there's no escape.
He turns to face me. I see the pain and fear behind the anger. He just got free from Banner's cage, only to wake up in another one.
I speak softly, and he has to stop growling to hear, "Hey. Shhh. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
He's still snorting, snarling. Every second he's deciding over again whether to pummel me into a liquid or not. So I give him no reason to. I stay low, both in stance and tone. I keep my limbs visible and any movements slow.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Are you going to hurt me? I'm trusting you not to. It's your choice."
He looks confused, and then rips up another chunk of concrete and hurls it across the room. And his fists come down to my left. I sidestep away. And then he attacks the ground behind him, tearing up even more of it. And he slams his latest boulder down to my right.
He halts, hand still on top of the rock to my right, just above eye level. The only movement now is his breathing.
I slowly reach for his hand. His head snaps to look at me, and I stop my approach. And then start again, even slower.
My hand is only centimeters away from one easily ten times its size. He's looking at me. And I'm looking at him. I don't try to disguise my fear. He has to understand why people react the way they do. And understanding requires honesty.
His whole body flinches at the contact, and I retract. Palm forward. Make sure he knows that I'm backing off because it's what he asked.
There's such a storm of negative emotion in those eyes. Fear, anger, suspicion... And deeper down a great sadness. I wonder if he's ever had a happy moment.
I start to sing, softly, "Home is behind."
His head shakes, as if he's trying to get something out of his ear.
"The wo-orld's ahead."
He tilts his head in curiosity, while his lip snaps upward in a distrustful snarl.
"And there are many paths to tread."
He moves his hand off the boulder and straightens to look at me more directly. His face is half a meter away from mine.
"Through shadow. To the edge of night. When the stars are all aligned."
He crouches lower, settling and ever so slightly calming. But still with an edge of threat.
"Mist and shadow. Clo-oud of shame. All shall fade."
I pause, gazing through his eyes into a system of greater apparent complexity than the sky itself. Everything about the unit in front of me is in turmoil. Body, minds. It's like he finally has a calm moment, and he has no idea what to do with it.
"All sha-all… Fade."
I put my hand where his used to be, on the boulder. He looks at it, jerking back slightly on instinct. Then he leans in, as if to smell it. I turn it palm up, and he flinches a little less.
He moves his head back, and lifts his hand closer to mine. I barely graze the tip of his finger with the backs of two fingernails. He blinks repeatedly, trying to figure out how to react. So we just stay there for a few seconds.
I pull away, and sink carefully into a cross-legged position on the ground.
He looks confused. I realize he doesn't understand relaxation. Nothing has ever been calm around him before.
I smile, "It's okay. We've already done more than I was expecting on our first session." I lean back on my elbows and close my eyes for a moment, "It's okay."
And then I hear a thud, and feel the air move. I open my eyes again and see the Hulk sitting next to me, mimicking my posture. He's not looking at me anymore. He's looking at the light at the top of the dome.
So we sit. We quietly sit and simply coexist in proximity.
What feels like an hour later I hear the body next to me reducing. When I look Banner is watching his hand deflate to normal human size.
He looks at me, "You're alive."
I nod calmly, "I am."
He looks at his hand again, "He didn't hurt you."
I smile softly, "I didn't hurt him."
I've been doing nothing but negotiating for days to make this happen. I had to figure out acceptable risk according to Fury. Then acceptable risk according to Oklahoma. Then the even more strict acceptable risk according to Banner. Authorization and procedures to bring Banner inside a secure SHIELD facility. Eventually I even had to write an appeal to the World Security Council. They decided that we could just use the procedures for multi-megaton weapons development.
I don't know how I feel about that. For one thing, the Hulk is potentially much more dangerous than a simple bomb. But I'm also in the process of trying to convince people that he's only as dangerous as other people make him. And on top of that, going through these protocols, I'm not sure how sufficient they are for multi-megaton weapons development.
The van pulls up, and Natasha climbs out of the back, leading Bruce with a bag over his head. Once we're inside she pulls the bag off.
Bruce looks around, "Concrete?"
I nod, "Steel mesh reinforced, five meters thick, with fifteen centimeters of lead. The door is the same kind as the President's panic room. You could set off a Hydrogen bomb inside this base without a single civilian casualty."
Okay, maybe not. The tectonic effects of something like that would probably cause a few fatalities in nearby towns. And the radioactive fallout would probably require a few thousand relocations. And it would kill satellite connectivity across the whole state for a week. But the blast itself would be vastly minimized.
He nods, "Where are we doing this? How do you stay safe?"
I direct his attention to the elevator, "This is just the surface entrance. We'll be going almost a full kilometer down. No-one else is going down with us."
He looks at me, "What about you?"
I shrug, "I'm not going to pick a fight." He seems unconvinced, "I'm wearing the best body armor that still looks non-threatening. I wanted you to set him free at the party. This is the middle ground."
"And what about your friend?"
Oh, right. I guess Bo shouldn't come with us. Every time we have to separate for any reason it gets harder. I pick her off my shoulder and hand her off to Natasha, "Take care of her." I don't even know which of them I was talking to.
Nat looks distinctly unsettled as Bo crawls up her arm, "Just for a few minutes."
I look back at Bruce, asking with an eyebrow if he has any further complaints. He sighs and closes his eyes, "Okay."
The two of us get in the elevator, and it starts going down. This is a fast elevator. Almost as fast as the one in the Daily Planet building. But it still takes almost five minutes to get to the bottom.
At the bottom is a twenty meter radius domed cavern, with only a single flood light at the very top. Rough grain concrete is the only visible surface. It's designed to be extremely durable and cheaply repairable.
We step out, and a minute later the elevator leaves without us. Can't risk it being damaged and stranding us down here.
I shake my head looking at the mandated meeting place, "I didn't want it to be like this."
Bruce doesn't respond. He starts walking to the opposite end of the chamber.
In the dark I can only barely see him on the other end. But once he starts changing, it gets a lot easier. The dot bulges and writhes, expanding in a very unnatural way.
And then I hear the roar. For several seconds, the echo lingers.
The Hulk rips chunks of the floor out and starts throwing them. I see them shattering into dust against different sections of the domed ceiling. One hits above me, and I have to move out of the way of one of the falling pieces.
My footsteps echo across the room, and the Hulk quiets.
And then he jumps. I see the figure rise and briefly silhouette against the light. And then it falls, and grows, and grows, and keeps growing.
An angry Hulk lands three meters away from me with enough force to knock me off my feet. He shouts, and raises his fists overhead. I roll out of the way and see the concrete shatter where I just was.
I roll to a stand and raise my hands in what I hope is recognizably a peaceful gesture. My feet are still primed to run, even though I know there's no escape.
He turns to face me. I see the pain and fear behind the anger. He just got free from Banner's cage, only to wake up in another one.
I speak softly, and he has to stop growling to hear, "Hey. Shhh. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
He's still snorting, snarling. Every second he's deciding over again whether to pummel me into a liquid or not. So I give him no reason to. I stay low, both in stance and tone. I keep my limbs visible and any movements slow.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Are you going to hurt me? I'm trusting you not to. It's your choice."
He looks confused, and then rips up another chunk of concrete and hurls it across the room. And his fists come down to my left. I sidestep away. And then he attacks the ground behind him, tearing up even more of it. And he slams his latest boulder down to my right.
He halts, hand still on top of the rock to my right, just above eye level. The only movement now is his breathing.
I slowly reach for his hand. His head snaps to look at me, and I stop my approach. And then start again, even slower.
My hand is only centimeters away from one easily ten times its size. He's looking at me. And I'm looking at him. I don't try to disguise my fear. He has to understand why people react the way they do. And understanding requires honesty.
His whole body flinches at the contact, and I retract. Palm forward. Make sure he knows that I'm backing off because it's what he asked.
There's such a storm of negative emotion in those eyes. Fear, anger, suspicion... And deeper down a great sadness. I wonder if he's ever had a happy moment.
I start to sing, softly, "Home is behind."
His head shakes, as if he's trying to get something out of his ear.
"The wo-orld's ahead."
He tilts his head in curiosity, while his lip snaps upward in a distrustful snarl.
"And there are many paths to tread."
He moves his hand off the boulder and straightens to look at me more directly. His face is half a meter away from mine.
"Through shadow. To the edge of night. When the stars are all aligned."
He crouches lower, settling and ever so slightly calming. But still with an edge of threat.
"Mist and shadow. Clo-oud of shame. All shall fade."
I pause, gazing through his eyes into a system of greater apparent complexity than the sky itself. Everything about the unit in front of me is in turmoil. Body, minds. It's like he finally has a calm moment, and he has no idea what to do with it.
"All sha-all… Fade."
I put my hand where his used to be, on the boulder. He looks at it, jerking back slightly on instinct. Then he leans in, as if to smell it. I turn it palm up, and he flinches a little less.
He moves his head back, and lifts his hand closer to mine. I barely graze the tip of his finger with the backs of two fingernails. He blinks repeatedly, trying to figure out how to react. So we just stay there for a few seconds.
I pull away, and sink carefully into a cross-legged position on the ground.
He looks confused. I realize he doesn't understand relaxation. Nothing has ever been calm around him before.
I smile, "It's okay. We've already done more than I was expecting on our first session." I lean back on my elbows and close my eyes for a moment, "It's okay."
And then I hear a thud, and feel the air move. I open my eyes again and see the Hulk sitting next to me, mimicking my posture. He's not looking at me anymore. He's looking at the light at the top of the dome.
So we sit. We quietly sit and simply coexist in proximity.
What feels like an hour later I hear the body next to me reducing. When I look Banner is watching his hand deflate to normal human size.
He looks at me, "You're alive."
I nod calmly, "I am."
He looks at his hand again, "He didn't hurt you."
I smile softly, "I didn't hurt him."
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Xavier Bronze
The Avatar
- Location
- Metropolis
One of Alex's sisters gives everyone else presents on her own birthday. I guess you could consider it my birthday gift to you.
EnygmaSoul
Company of Negotiable Virtue
- Location
- In your eyes and in your arms and in your head.
Wow. That was quite moving. Honestly, as much as I've loved this entire thread so far, I think that last post might be my favorite thing you've written in it. Bravissima, dear lady.
Xavier Bronze
The Avatar
- Location
- Metropolis
Not for a long while. Months, at least. But she is due for another Spirit World visit very soon.
The same event that motivated Thomas Wayne to become Batman also motivated Martha Wayne to become The Joker. It is Gotham, so it can be hard to tell. But it seems unlikely one ultimately harmless mugging would be enough for that.
- Location
- Russia
As joker said: "...All you need is just one bad day..."
Also, Tomas might not became superhero, he can become sponsor of superhero - "accidentally" find some metahuman and support he/she. Also, he can acquire political power. How hard it for senator to influence S.H.I.E.L.D. or other agency working with metahumans? Or he can just contact Superman and talk.
But Martha is also a Kane, as in Kate Kane (Batwoman)...
Did you just invent Bat-parents?
Maybe have a future Bruce Wayne thank you, then chew you out for it. Or vice versa...
Also will you ever tell Banner about the other potential Hulks from the comics? Jen as She-Hulk or Ross as the Red Hulk?
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Xavier Bronze
The Avatar
- Location
- Metropolis
Why would she? There's no evidence that either of them exist, or ever will.
I could see it happening at some point in the future, depending on what kind of drunk you are.
Presidential
Xavier Bronze
The Avatar
- Location
- Metropolis
I unplug the HDMI cable and then plug it in again. The TV springs to life.
Mike cheers, "Whoo! What'd you do?"
I plop down on the couch between him and Jack, "I just jiggled the connection. You'd be surprised how often that's the solution. It's the cable equivalent of turning it off and then on again."
Since Thanksgiving Clint and I have put some effort into making the Avengers house a little more comfortable, so that eventually it might become a potential base of operations. Part of that was setting up a media room. Not quite the private theater that H.O.M.E. has, but we were able to scrape up enough funding to make it almost as nice as the one Alex had.
It was Mike's idea to throw a party for the Republican Presidential debate. For some reason he thought he needed to unplug everything while I was feeding Bo. Shouldn't SHIELD teach basic tech stuff to their operatives?
Ike finds Fox News and we see a line of eight candidates at flashy podiums like it's some kind of reality gameshow. I guess really in a way it is. 'Who Wants to Rule the Free World?' America doesn't even have mandatory vote. The whole ordeal is such a joke.
Jane comes in with potato chips and a tub of sour cream. She squeezes between Jack and me, "Did I miss anything?"
This couch isn't big enough for five people. Whatever. I shake my head, "Nothing the rest of us didn't too."
We still haven't talked through everything. But she's being a lot more conscious about not flirting as much. She's out of denial now. Whatever her father, Hank, said to her got her thinking again, at least. That's enough for me.
I take a potato chip, and Jack does the same. Bo sniffs the sour cream and I pull her away and place her on my opposite knee. Among many things I've learned recently, reptiles can't handle dairy.
I ask Mike, "So who are these clowns?"
Mike watches the screen with rapt attention, "The primary contenders you have to remember are Mitt Romney, Ron Paul, and Matthew Ellis. Mitt Romney is a business man. That means lower taxes and fewer restrictions on the economy. Ron Paul wants small government and a non-interventionist foreign policy. Matthew Ellis was running on a platform of protecting America from the Mandarin. But, ever since we arrested Trevor Slattery he's switched to anti-vigilantism and defense against superhumans."
I remember. Matthew Ellis was the President in Iron Man 3. I smile, "Okay, so you all know that I know who wins this, right?"
Suddenly I have Mike's complete attention. He's practically begging me with his eyes to tell him.
Ike shakes his head, "No spoilers. I only watch TV twice every four years: The Presidential Election, and the Winter Olympics. You're not ruining this for me."
I nod, "Okay. I'll tell you another time, Mike."
The candidates' arguing goes over the time limit and they get cut off by a pinging sound. Jack shakes his head and rubs his eyes.
I ask him with a laugh, "You okay over there?"
Jack sighs, "I'm fine. This isn't my party. Everyone there is running against something. Where's the positivity?"
I see one of Mike's hands ball into a fist.
I say to Jack, "Maybe we can talk about that another time. I kind of agree with you, but like you said it's not our party." Then to Mike, "Wasn't your new girlfriend supposed to be here?"
He nods, "Yeah. She said she would be. I texted her half an hour ago and haven't heard back. Maybe the fifth date was a little early for something so political."
I shrug, "Hey, if you're passionate about it."
The TV host asks Matthew Ellis, "Your campaign has been driven by the promise to take down the Mandarin during the next term. Two weeks ago, President Obama beat you to it. How do you plan to respond to that if you are elected?"
Ellis responds in a way that makes me think he rehearsed it, "Well, the first thing the people have to understand is that the Mandarin was only one part of the problem we're facing. With the advent of Superman and Iron Man, we've entered a new age. Individuals now carry enough power to contend with nations and personally shape the course of history in their own image. Those specific cases are heroic. But other times you end up with the Mandarin. Or Lord Dyne, a sole man who holds absolute power over his nation. We need policies and enforcement that can handle people like that. And that's all I've ever promised."
The audience cheers, and Mike claps.
He has a point. For every Iron Man who blows up weapons caches in the Middle East, there's going to be a Whiplash who hijacks military tech and turns it against civilians. Or a Killian who uses top-notch tech to become a terrorist. I can't reasonably expect the United States government to trust the defense against superhumans to SHIELD completely. As long as they don't get in our way.
The host pushes the issue more than seems unbiased to me, "Now, you say that these empowered individuals are dangerous. But early accounts suggest that the series of assaults that recently halted Ten Rings hostilities were conducted by a team of superhuman operatives, including Colonel James Rhodes, the 'War Machine'. The very superhumans that you're calling a threat. What's your response to that?"
Ellis briefly looks annoyed before expertly recovering his politician's smile, "As I just said, no matter how many good and patriotic examples we may have, the fact remains that these people are out there. And not all of them are heroic. We have to recognize the potential danger that represents to our great nation. A brand new global superpower stronger than China, stronger than Russia, of unknown allegiance. The United States needs to be strong enough to survive this new breed of soldier."
The doorbell rings, and Mike stands, "That's probably Mick and Joan."
Let's see… Mick and Joan... were Mike's classmates back at the Academy. Ike mentioned that Mike and Joan dated a few times at some point.
They come piling into the room. Mick looks like a gameshow host. Joan looks like a weather woman. They look like assholes. I stand to greet them.
Mike introduces them, "Everyone, meet two of my oldest friends. Mick and Joan Blunt. Mick, Joan, this is Xavier, and two of her friends, Jack and Jane." The Blunts don't look related. I'm guessing husband and wife.
We have an Ike, a Mike, a Mick, a Jack, Jane, and Joan. No, this won't do.
I reach out to Mr. Blunt for a handshake, "Mick. You don't mind if I call you Mr. Blunt, do you? Mick is a little close to Mike and I don't want to confuse anyone."
Mr. Blunt accepts the handshake, "Xavier, I've heard... things. I don't… Who's Mike?"
Mike shakes his head with a chuckle, "I am. She calls me Mike. And thanks to her everyone else here calls me Mike too. She calls Harold-"
"Don't." Ike glares at his partner.
I finish, "Ike. I call him Ike."
Mr. Blunt nods, confused, "Right."
Mrs. Blunt walks over to Ike and wow is that posture suggestive, "Lovely to see you again, Harold."
Ike doesn't even notice, "Nice to see you too, Mrs. Blunt." Oh good. Someone else calls them by last name too.
She's got it bad, "Please, how many times do I have to tell you. Call me Joan."
Ike points with his thumb, "Well we've already got a Jane, so…" My point exactly!
Mr. Blunt is giving the whole exchange a stink-eye, which supports them being married instead of related. But that also makes Mrs. Blunt kind of a fuckhead.
Mike sets out two folding chairs, and Mr. Blunt sits in one of them. Mrs. Blunt then sits on his lap, leaving Mike having brought out an unnecessary chair. Is that rude? It seems a little rude. Mike, I don't think I like your taste in friends.
I know Mitt Romney is one of the richest people in America, and Ron Paul is boring. I ask, "What's Ellis' story?"
Mike answers, "He was a member of the NYPD. Then he joined the army, did two tours and earned a long list of medals. But he was discharged after he publicly criticized Obama for not doing more to stop the Mandarin attacks. A lot of people thought he was right. He ran for the senate in 2010, and got in on a landslide."
"Wait, so he's only been in politics for, what, two years? Isn't that kind of fast to run for President?"
He nods, "Way too fast, if you ask anyone in office now. But he's a veteran, and the masses dig that. And he talks a good point."
NYPD. Huh. The election is in November, right? The Chitauri invasion was probably a pretty important factor toward him bumping off Obama's second term. Huge attack with many deaths at the hands of a superhuman army, right in his hometown, only halted by the efforts of a United Nations intelligence agency and a rag-tag group of vigilantes. So many things about that make Obama look bad. And even more make Ellis look right.
They broach the subject of the Stark Expo attack. And predictably, Ellis outshines everyone. This is absolutely his issue. I can tell everyone else is doing their best to steer the discussion away as quickly as possible.
Unfortunately it doesn't seem like Ellis has much else. He has opinions, and he's obviously done his research. But he can't talk circles around the others on any other topic to the same degree. I think the news is going to say he won this debate. Which is still impressive, considering how much things have been tipped against him. But it's not clear cut.
"Bo! No!" Jane pushes her away from the sour cream.
I move her up to my shoulder, "Thanks, Jane."
I hear Mr. Blunt whisper to Ike, "So what's with the freaky lizard thing?"
Mike cheers, "Whoo! What'd you do?"
I plop down on the couch between him and Jack, "I just jiggled the connection. You'd be surprised how often that's the solution. It's the cable equivalent of turning it off and then on again."
Since Thanksgiving Clint and I have put some effort into making the Avengers house a little more comfortable, so that eventually it might become a potential base of operations. Part of that was setting up a media room. Not quite the private theater that H.O.M.E. has, but we were able to scrape up enough funding to make it almost as nice as the one Alex had.
It was Mike's idea to throw a party for the Republican Presidential debate. For some reason he thought he needed to unplug everything while I was feeding Bo. Shouldn't SHIELD teach basic tech stuff to their operatives?
Ike finds Fox News and we see a line of eight candidates at flashy podiums like it's some kind of reality gameshow. I guess really in a way it is. 'Who Wants to Rule the Free World?' America doesn't even have mandatory vote. The whole ordeal is such a joke.
Jane comes in with potato chips and a tub of sour cream. She squeezes between Jack and me, "Did I miss anything?"
This couch isn't big enough for five people. Whatever. I shake my head, "Nothing the rest of us didn't too."
We still haven't talked through everything. But she's being a lot more conscious about not flirting as much. She's out of denial now. Whatever her father, Hank, said to her got her thinking again, at least. That's enough for me.
I take a potato chip, and Jack does the same. Bo sniffs the sour cream and I pull her away and place her on my opposite knee. Among many things I've learned recently, reptiles can't handle dairy.
I ask Mike, "So who are these clowns?"
Mike watches the screen with rapt attention, "The primary contenders you have to remember are Mitt Romney, Ron Paul, and Matthew Ellis. Mitt Romney is a business man. That means lower taxes and fewer restrictions on the economy. Ron Paul wants small government and a non-interventionist foreign policy. Matthew Ellis was running on a platform of protecting America from the Mandarin. But, ever since we arrested Trevor Slattery he's switched to anti-vigilantism and defense against superhumans."
I remember. Matthew Ellis was the President in Iron Man 3. I smile, "Okay, so you all know that I know who wins this, right?"
Suddenly I have Mike's complete attention. He's practically begging me with his eyes to tell him.
Ike shakes his head, "No spoilers. I only watch TV twice every four years: The Presidential Election, and the Winter Olympics. You're not ruining this for me."
I nod, "Okay. I'll tell you another time, Mike."
The candidates' arguing goes over the time limit and they get cut off by a pinging sound. Jack shakes his head and rubs his eyes.
I ask him with a laugh, "You okay over there?"
Jack sighs, "I'm fine. This isn't my party. Everyone there is running against something. Where's the positivity?"
I see one of Mike's hands ball into a fist.
I say to Jack, "Maybe we can talk about that another time. I kind of agree with you, but like you said it's not our party." Then to Mike, "Wasn't your new girlfriend supposed to be here?"
He nods, "Yeah. She said she would be. I texted her half an hour ago and haven't heard back. Maybe the fifth date was a little early for something so political."
I shrug, "Hey, if you're passionate about it."
The TV host asks Matthew Ellis, "Your campaign has been driven by the promise to take down the Mandarin during the next term. Two weeks ago, President Obama beat you to it. How do you plan to respond to that if you are elected?"
Ellis responds in a way that makes me think he rehearsed it, "Well, the first thing the people have to understand is that the Mandarin was only one part of the problem we're facing. With the advent of Superman and Iron Man, we've entered a new age. Individuals now carry enough power to contend with nations and personally shape the course of history in their own image. Those specific cases are heroic. But other times you end up with the Mandarin. Or Lord Dyne, a sole man who holds absolute power over his nation. We need policies and enforcement that can handle people like that. And that's all I've ever promised."
The audience cheers, and Mike claps.
He has a point. For every Iron Man who blows up weapons caches in the Middle East, there's going to be a Whiplash who hijacks military tech and turns it against civilians. Or a Killian who uses top-notch tech to become a terrorist. I can't reasonably expect the United States government to trust the defense against superhumans to SHIELD completely. As long as they don't get in our way.
The host pushes the issue more than seems unbiased to me, "Now, you say that these empowered individuals are dangerous. But early accounts suggest that the series of assaults that recently halted Ten Rings hostilities were conducted by a team of superhuman operatives, including Colonel James Rhodes, the 'War Machine'. The very superhumans that you're calling a threat. What's your response to that?"
Ellis briefly looks annoyed before expertly recovering his politician's smile, "As I just said, no matter how many good and patriotic examples we may have, the fact remains that these people are out there. And not all of them are heroic. We have to recognize the potential danger that represents to our great nation. A brand new global superpower stronger than China, stronger than Russia, of unknown allegiance. The United States needs to be strong enough to survive this new breed of soldier."
The doorbell rings, and Mike stands, "That's probably Mick and Joan."
Let's see… Mick and Joan... were Mike's classmates back at the Academy. Ike mentioned that Mike and Joan dated a few times at some point.
They come piling into the room. Mick looks like a gameshow host. Joan looks like a weather woman. They look like assholes. I stand to greet them.
Mike introduces them, "Everyone, meet two of my oldest friends. Mick and Joan Blunt. Mick, Joan, this is Xavier, and two of her friends, Jack and Jane." The Blunts don't look related. I'm guessing husband and wife.
We have an Ike, a Mike, a Mick, a Jack, Jane, and Joan. No, this won't do.
I reach out to Mr. Blunt for a handshake, "Mick. You don't mind if I call you Mr. Blunt, do you? Mick is a little close to Mike and I don't want to confuse anyone."
Mr. Blunt accepts the handshake, "Xavier, I've heard... things. I don't… Who's Mike?"
Mike shakes his head with a chuckle, "I am. She calls me Mike. And thanks to her everyone else here calls me Mike too. She calls Harold-"
"Don't." Ike glares at his partner.
I finish, "Ike. I call him Ike."
Mr. Blunt nods, confused, "Right."
Mrs. Blunt walks over to Ike and wow is that posture suggestive, "Lovely to see you again, Harold."
Ike doesn't even notice, "Nice to see you too, Mrs. Blunt." Oh good. Someone else calls them by last name too.
She's got it bad, "Please, how many times do I have to tell you. Call me Joan."
Ike points with his thumb, "Well we've already got a Jane, so…" My point exactly!
Mr. Blunt is giving the whole exchange a stink-eye, which supports them being married instead of related. But that also makes Mrs. Blunt kind of a fuckhead.
Mike sets out two folding chairs, and Mr. Blunt sits in one of them. Mrs. Blunt then sits on his lap, leaving Mike having brought out an unnecessary chair. Is that rude? It seems a little rude. Mike, I don't think I like your taste in friends.
I know Mitt Romney is one of the richest people in America, and Ron Paul is boring. I ask, "What's Ellis' story?"
Mike answers, "He was a member of the NYPD. Then he joined the army, did two tours and earned a long list of medals. But he was discharged after he publicly criticized Obama for not doing more to stop the Mandarin attacks. A lot of people thought he was right. He ran for the senate in 2010, and got in on a landslide."
"Wait, so he's only been in politics for, what, two years? Isn't that kind of fast to run for President?"
He nods, "Way too fast, if you ask anyone in office now. But he's a veteran, and the masses dig that. And he talks a good point."
NYPD. Huh. The election is in November, right? The Chitauri invasion was probably a pretty important factor toward him bumping off Obama's second term. Huge attack with many deaths at the hands of a superhuman army, right in his hometown, only halted by the efforts of a United Nations intelligence agency and a rag-tag group of vigilantes. So many things about that make Obama look bad. And even more make Ellis look right.
They broach the subject of the Stark Expo attack. And predictably, Ellis outshines everyone. This is absolutely his issue. I can tell everyone else is doing their best to steer the discussion away as quickly as possible.
Unfortunately it doesn't seem like Ellis has much else. He has opinions, and he's obviously done his research. But he can't talk circles around the others on any other topic to the same degree. I think the news is going to say he won this debate. Which is still impressive, considering how much things have been tipped against him. But it's not clear cut.
"Bo! No!" Jane pushes her away from the sour cream.
I move her up to my shoulder, "Thanks, Jane."
I hear Mr. Blunt whisper to Ike, "So what's with the freaky lizard thing?"
Mr.Marvel
I don't suffer from insanity, I rather enjoy it!
- Location
- New Jersey or Hell I can't tell anymore.
The Winter Solstice
Xavier Bronze
The Avatar
- Location
- Metropolis
I'm in Shazam's library.
Oh great, I forgot about the Winter Solstice. I could have used this time to do something useful. But as soon as I look around and see architecture that would give Escher wet dreams I decide that it's time to leave.
I lie down and get ready to go back.
And then the door slams open.
I sigh, "Shazam, is there a good reason I shouldn't go home?"
The wizard answers, "A visit from an old friend?"
I stand up and look at the newcomer. It's not human. Must be some kind of spirit. It looks like a human-sized meerkat, or maybe a lemur.
It tilts its head, "Stinky? What's happened to you?"
I would say I don't know this thing, but… I actually have a strange feeling that I do.
It, no, he reaches out and walks toward me, "It's been nearly nine thousand years!.Why haven't you visited like you promised?"
I back away a step, "I'm sorry. I don't…" I can't say that. I do know this creature from somewhere… "I don't know who you are."
He jerks backward, obviously hurt, "After all I've done for you?"
This feeling isn't like the one I have with Bo. It's not as strong. But, somehow it feels… More elusive. Deeper? No. Older.
Shazam puts a hand on his shoulder, "Remember how human spirits work. She isn't the same spirit you once knew."
His ears flatten as he thinks about that. I think if I had animal ears they would be doing the same. He recognized me. Does that mean I'm the Avatar spirit reincarnated after all? How many other Avatars have there been?
I give an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry. Maybe we can start over?" I hold out my hand, "I'm Xavier."
He holds his own hand out, but only far enough to touch the ends of our fingers. I take my other hand and direct his to the right place to finish the handshake. He looks confused at the correction at first, and then seems to understand and appreciate the gesture.
He says, "I'm Zhi Hou. You rudely stole from my oasis ten thousand years ago, and then I decided to keep you."
I nod with a smile, "I see. So I'm a pet. That's why you called me Stinky."
He beams, "Yes! You're such a smart human. I always knew I picked the right one."
I laugh, "Compared to you I guess I am pretty stinky. I like it."
He looks like a satisfied cat after it's gotten a headscratch, "You've grown a sense of humor!" And then his joy fades and the ears are flat again, "Where's Raava?"
"Who now?"
His face turns to horror. And then Shazam fills us both in, "Raava is still there. She's weakened from the transfer." Oh right! The 'spirit' half of the Avatar Spirit. Raava must be its name. Her name. How do I know that?
Zhi Hou asks, "Transfer? What do you mean?" He turns to me, "What's happened to you?"
Shazam answers, "It's been nine thousand years. But the last few decades have been especially trying. Most recently, the spirit you knew was forcibly fused onto another from an incompatible universe."
He reels back from me and almost hisses, "You're not Stinky!"
Shazam sighs, "You asked me if your friend would be here, and I spoke the truth. Everything that's left of your friend exists inside her."
He droops like someone just dropped his birthday cake in the toilet, "...Stinky?"
I respond, "For what it's worth, you seem familiar. I don't know from where, but I think I trust you. You feel like a friend, somehow."
He's obviously in mourning, and very conflicted. But he seems to have moved passed denial, "Well... Maybe that's a place to start." He forces a small smile.
I take a step forward and scratch my friend behind the ear in a way that somehow I know he won't mind, "Maybe it could help if you told me about my past lives?"
That idea seems to cheer him up a little, "Well, if you think it might help. But I should warn you, it's a very long story."
Oh great, I forgot about the Winter Solstice. I could have used this time to do something useful. But as soon as I look around and see architecture that would give Escher wet dreams I decide that it's time to leave.
I lie down and get ready to go back.
And then the door slams open.
I sigh, "Shazam, is there a good reason I shouldn't go home?"
The wizard answers, "A visit from an old friend?"
I stand up and look at the newcomer. It's not human. Must be some kind of spirit. It looks like a human-sized meerkat, or maybe a lemur.
It tilts its head, "Stinky? What's happened to you?"
I would say I don't know this thing, but… I actually have a strange feeling that I do.
It, no, he reaches out and walks toward me, "It's been nearly nine thousand years!.Why haven't you visited like you promised?"
I back away a step, "I'm sorry. I don't…" I can't say that. I do know this creature from somewhere… "I don't know who you are."
He jerks backward, obviously hurt, "After all I've done for you?"
This feeling isn't like the one I have with Bo. It's not as strong. But, somehow it feels… More elusive. Deeper? No. Older.
Shazam puts a hand on his shoulder, "Remember how human spirits work. She isn't the same spirit you once knew."
His ears flatten as he thinks about that. I think if I had animal ears they would be doing the same. He recognized me. Does that mean I'm the Avatar spirit reincarnated after all? How many other Avatars have there been?
I give an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry. Maybe we can start over?" I hold out my hand, "I'm Xavier."
He holds his own hand out, but only far enough to touch the ends of our fingers. I take my other hand and direct his to the right place to finish the handshake. He looks confused at the correction at first, and then seems to understand and appreciate the gesture.
He says, "I'm Zhi Hou. You rudely stole from my oasis ten thousand years ago, and then I decided to keep you."
I nod with a smile, "I see. So I'm a pet. That's why you called me Stinky."
He beams, "Yes! You're such a smart human. I always knew I picked the right one."
I laugh, "Compared to you I guess I am pretty stinky. I like it."
He looks like a satisfied cat after it's gotten a headscratch, "You've grown a sense of humor!" And then his joy fades and the ears are flat again, "Where's Raava?"
"Who now?"
His face turns to horror. And then Shazam fills us both in, "Raava is still there. She's weakened from the transfer." Oh right! The 'spirit' half of the Avatar Spirit. Raava must be its name. Her name. How do I know that?
Zhi Hou asks, "Transfer? What do you mean?" He turns to me, "What's happened to you?"
Shazam answers, "It's been nine thousand years. But the last few decades have been especially trying. Most recently, the spirit you knew was forcibly fused onto another from an incompatible universe."
He reels back from me and almost hisses, "You're not Stinky!"
Shazam sighs, "You asked me if your friend would be here, and I spoke the truth. Everything that's left of your friend exists inside her."
He droops like someone just dropped his birthday cake in the toilet, "...Stinky?"
I respond, "For what it's worth, you seem familiar. I don't know from where, but I think I trust you. You feel like a friend, somehow."
He's obviously in mourning, and very conflicted. But he seems to have moved passed denial, "Well... Maybe that's a place to start." He forces a small smile.
I take a step forward and scratch my friend behind the ear in a way that somehow I know he won't mind, "Maybe it could help if you told me about my past lives?"
That idea seems to cheer him up a little, "Well, if you think it might help. But I should warn you, it's a very long story."
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- Location
- Oulu
That's not much. Little Boy was 15 kilotons. A W88 warhead is 475 kilotons. Admittedly, A W76 was only 100 kilotons. The US, I think, has 2000 of those.
A case of military technology marches on.
Xavier Bronze
The Avatar
- Location
- Metropolis
I blame Alex. He's the one who insists on researching everything. It sounded so impressive... I'll fix it. Danke.
The link is broken. It links to http:// http//vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/avatar/images/7/76/Aye-aye_spirit.png/revision/latest?cb=20131019224533 when it should link to http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net..._spirit.png/revision/latest?cb=20131019224533
Edit: okay SV changed the links so they look the same but if you click on them you'll see the first one doesn't work because it actually has a %20 at the start and lakes a colon between the http and the // whereas I fixed that on the second one.
Edit2: Actually on a closer look they are different, the first has two http things.
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Xavier Bronze
The Avatar
- Location
- Metropolis
Fixed. Danke.
- Location
- United States
There are no links to Korra's story here. Does that mean she didn't happen or just that you ran out of words to turn into links?
Xavier Bronze
The Avatar
- Location
- Metropolis
It means that Zhi Hou never heard about her, because he only very sporadically has contact with the physical world. The last person to give him an update was Iroh, who "died" before Korra was born.
- Location
- Oulu
Hey, if it's what you know, it's what you know.
Or, um. Basically, since the story is in first person, we're getting a perspective, and the narrator is, thus, unreliable.