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Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2016 19:19:22 GMT -7
The streets were empty. A city that never slept was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, were it not for the crackling of nearby fires and gunshots echoed in the distance. In a trash can that was long since abandoned rested on top a week old issue of the Daily Bugle with the headline: "HELL HAS COME TO NEW YORK!"
By Ben Urich, A Few Weeks Ago, New York City was anticipating the other shoe to drop in the escalating gang violence that stewed beneath the surface of the streets from Hell's Kitchen and beyond. Fast forward and homes are being evacuated faster than a UFC first round knockout by SHIELD Agents and every other manner of law enforcement in the wake of Fisk Tower going up in flames shortly after the Central Park brawl at the rally of Presidential Nominee, Norman Osborn. Rumors are still flying about, only now most are doing so from their cell phones in tent lots well beyond their city limits as their homes burn. But should many of us had gone? In a post-9/11 world, the most logical answer is 'yes', but this is New York City, home to 90% of the public superhuman population, alien invasions, and street crime all the time. Many, like those of this very paper, would decry such battles as nothing out of the ordinary, while others have seen it as quite enough.
But many ask "Where are the Avengers? Or the Fantastic Four?" This paper has attempted to make contact, but Avengers Mansion, Stark Tower, and the Baxter Building, have all been sealed and fell silent. In a public statement, SHIELD has released a plan approved by the President, blockading the city limits on all sides. One cannot look out the window without seeing ominous Helicarriers looming in the distance. Assuming they were one of the hundred thousand civilians brave enough to stay within the battleground, or were too poor to escape the notice of law enforcement, left to their fate. Could the events of Times Square and the subsequent massive public opinion dropoff of Superhuman Registration play a factor? Nobody can say for certain.
Today marks the second week in the city's blockade, and current reports indicate ten thousand casualties have been reported. Recreation Centers are filled to bursting as communities come together as their streets have become battlegrounds between criminal gangs escalating a war on the streets, turning Manhattan into Baghdad almost overnight. If there is still anybody out there, we need you now more than ever. The rest of the page was blown off as a hail of bullets scattered down the street as entire platoons of people with masks began to open fire upon one another. One wore plain suits with horned demon masks, the other wore more casual attire, but with masks resembling their boss, the Green Goblin. "TAKING FIRE! TAKING FIRE!" said one of the Goblins, who hid behind an abandoned car for cover. He reached for a grenade and launched it towards Mister Negative's squad of Inner Demons, who would just not go down despite resembling Swiss Cheese at this point. Just as the car began to become riddled with bullets, a red club came from out of nowhere, ricocheting and slapping anybody who carried an automatic weapon, which was mostly clustered in Negative's group, disabling them for a moment. A few went down from Goblin bullets, but the Inner Demons were more focused on something coming at them from above: Twin red boots to the head followed by a lean body of muscle who leapt like one of the finest acrobats and socked two more in the jaw. Another demon of a different kind. Here comes Daredevil, the Man Without Fear. Daredevil rolled into the cluster and recovered his club, forming his bo staff formation and began to twirl a defensive orbit around his body, which uppercutted and sliced him a path, walloping anybody in his immediate range. He felt a sword swing through the air ( schwaaaah) and managed to lean forward to duck it and sensed somebody take out the person swinging it, allowing him to switch to Escrima and continue his assault. He could hear the Goblins still firing as well as their heartbeats skip ( b-bah-bump, b-b-bah-bump) and he began to use the nearest Inner Demons as human shields, extracting a gun from an attacker's grip and firing blindly, though when he heard a Goblin drop from getting shot in the foot (Daredevil mentally breathed a sigh of relief,) the Goblins began to close ranks and look up for other vigilantes, allowing him to take out Inner Demons in relative peace. Or, rather, as much as one could when it was twenty-to-one, and you were tired after three weeks of non-stop crime fighting.
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" That'd be me. The Spider-Man of tomorrow, here to save today... "
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Post by Rift on Jul 11, 2016 22:51:47 GMT -7
The hellish scene was made all the worse by the numerous fires burning around the Big Apple, the dancing flames the only source of light now that power had been cut, casting a number of eerie shadows across the city. From atop a nearby building, one of those shadows moved. Leaping overhead Spider-Man joined in the fray, dual weblines snagging two Goblins, a crosswise yank sending the two gangsters crashing into one another. Without even touching down the wallcrawler collided feet first with another goon, his backwards flip into a hurricanrana on yet another Goblin tossing the man into a nearby abandoned car hard enough to dent the door. Standing, his spider-sense blaring over a bladed weapon swinging his way, Spider-Man bent backwards until his head nearly touched the gravel, the blade passing over him harmlessly. He responded with a punch that sent the Goblin airborne, a new strand of webbing catching him in the throat as Spidey pulled downwards the Goblin hitting the ground hard enough to break bones. Another Goblin, setting up a rifle on a nearby rooftop received a face full of stingers, the tranquilizer within putting the thug to sleep in moments. The holdovers from his stint as the Hornet were definitely coming in useful since NYC had become a war zone. Sadly, those weapons were not the only thing that was old now new again. Three straight weeks of nonstop fighting, sleepless nights, and countless close calls had seen him go through two costumes, each not in various states of disrepair. He had been forced to don one of Ben Reilly’s old suits just so he wasn’t running around the streets fighting gangs in his boxers and a poorly sewn mask. Worst of the old day trends returning however, was being alone. Sure, he had Daredevil and the other heroes that stayed behind to fight for their city, but he hadn’t spoken to Mary Jane since he forced her and Aunt May to evacuate, insisting he couldn’t do his job if he was constantly worried about what harm may befall them. Still, he missed his wife dearly and not having her to lean on was getting to him. As he thought about just how exhausted he truly was, wondering how Matt could keep going without any powers or enhanced physiology to rely on, an Inner Demon started to rise from where it had been knocked flat by Daredevil moments before. Reaching for it’s shock stick Spider-Man stepped on the hand before it could reach the weapon. “You know, usually I’d be quipping up a storm right about now, probably something about how if your staff isn’t working they have pills for that, but I’m just too damned tired to bother,” he muttered as he lifted Mr. Negative’s goon and tossed him. Catching him midair with a webline he swung him around, spinning on his heels as he used the Inner Demon as tool to batter other gang members nearby, before sending him crashing into a wall. “You know DD, you always take me to the nicest places!”
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Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2016 11:44:46 GMT -7
Daredevil wailed mercilessly on an Inner Demon he managed to wrestle to the ground, snapping his arms into splints. He was tired, pissed off, and in no mood to talk, his patience ran dry. However as Spider-Man began to clean house, moving ten to one over him, both sides began to retreat. He realized this and then stood up, giving the Inner Demon, who was already more of a pool of blood than man at this point, one final stomp in his shattered face. He exhaled deeply and went about sheathing his billy clubs. "Another fire put out. If this had moved even one more block over, they'dve hit the Rec Center. They are already having a tough time keeping the power on for the families housed there, let alone a firefight," he said between breaths. He checked over himself and once the adrenaline wore off, he felt a gigantic welt in his back. Probably from a sword strike, he thought. The armor had absorbed the majority, but he could smell blood. "We had better get back," he said and took the lead, firing his cable into the evening sky and taking off. The pair reached what appeared to be an abandoned laundromat just outside of Harlem. Walking inside, Daredevil shoved a coin washer and dryer rack to the side, revealing a secret door, and stepped down into it. Inside was a hollowed out, makeshift lair of sorts containing borrowed or hijacked tech pooled between himself, Spider-Man, and the other residents that were currently there: Luke Cage, his wife Jessica Jones, and their best friend, the Immortal Iron Fist. Also present was one of the Night Nurses, the same one Daredevil got in touch with to help Daisy Johnson out of a jam a few weeks back. Daredevil didn't take his mask off, but he did tear off the jerkin and sat at one of the emergency tables the heroes had managed to get their hands on, the slash in his back being noticeable. "Damn, Dee, what the hell happened?" asked Luke Cage looking concerned, arms folded while he rested at the computer desk. "Inner Demons and Goblins this time. They really want control of the Kitchen badly now that Fisk's moved out to SoHo," he replied. "Sounds like your kind of party," said Jessica dryly, which Daredevil didn't react to. Humor was lost on him these days. "At least the families are still safe. For now," he said and Luke nodded. "Yeah, but we've been putting out fires rather than taking out the fire starter. I know it was necessary until Manhattan had evacuated, but we didn't count on people staying! We can't keep going on like this,""But Luke, we don't know where to look. And trust me, I've already been trying," replied Jessica to her husband. With that, Luke threw his hands up. Who could blame him?
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Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2016 20:09:28 GMT -7
“Oh thank god, you're both safe!” Night Nurse breathed a sigh of relief as the two red-suited heroes returned from their latest patrol, looking a little more worse for wear than they had when they left. While she knew that Daredevil and Spider-Man were more than capable of taking care of themselves, the physical and mental toll it was taking on them and the other heroes still left in New York to head out and 'put out fires' for the past several weeks was becoming more than obvious. At least Spider-Man didn't generally need as much medical attention as some of the others, thanks in part to his precognitive abilities and minor healing factor, but even that didn't alleviate the quickly depleting medical supplies that their ragtag team was suffering from. Linda shook her head in worry when Matt removed his shirt to reveal the deep, bleeding sword slash that was added to his growing collection of injuries. She immediately got to work cleaning him up and checking the severity of the new wound, not bothering to ask any questions of what went down on the outside. What could she even ask? The answers were the same every time, but the good doctor couldn't help but wish Daredevil would take a break, lay low for a bit, or at least take a little more care in not getting himself torn up quite so much. Night Nurse frowned as she dug through what they had left of her medical supplies since the last run, her brow furrowing with concern. “Damn it,” she muttered beneath her breath, unwrapping an unopened mouth guard that had been brought to her from a local sports depot. “Mouth open,” she said curtly, popping the plastic piece into Daredevil's mouth when he complied. “Bite down. We're running too low on pain killers. Sorry, DD, this is going to suck, but we need to conserve a bit, just in case of a bigger emergency.” Heat emanating against her fingers from the blind hero's shoulders, Linda applied a clean cloth to the bleeding wound with as much pressure as her small frame could muster, the fabric quickly soaking through to a rich deep red. Slowly and carefully, she pricked a fresh surgical needle into Matt's musculature, taking care not to cause him any more pain than he would already be going through. “Don't be naïve, Daredevil. Finances, disability...some people are unable to just uproot and leave, despite the danger involved.” The needle continued moving in, out, and through bloodied flesh. “Lord knows none of us did.”
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Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2016 15:06:08 GMT -7
Daredevil winced, his enhanced sense of touch feeling the needle more than the average person would. He envied Luke across the room having unbreakable skin. But when she finished patching up, he walked over to the row of lockers they had managed to stash there, revealing the last of his more armored costumes before he'd have to switch out for his lighter more classic weave costumes. He grabbed the suit and slipped into the changing area they had set up and returned to the main floor minutes later. He sensed Cage and Jessica talking in the corner in what was intended to be private, but nothing ever was to him. I'm just thinking about Danielle...Me too.At this rate, even I'm starting to think...It's fine, Luke. I get it.He tuned them out and began to swap out the billy clubs he had in his hands for some fresh ones and began testing them. He knew if he went out again, the stitches would inevitably open up, so instead he'd have to trust Peter, Luke, Danny, and Jess on this one while he meditated to centre himself. Sure it was only an Inner Demon he mangled, but these past three weeks were beginning to take a toll on him. "Before you say it, Spider-Man, I know, I'm not in the best shape to be out there right now," he said before Peter could protest to him being in a new suit and testing his weapons. "I'm just being prepared; I'll hang back on this one and medita- - What the -- " he said being cut off as the room shook slightly from above. He then picked up gunfire and shouted obscenities. Lots of gunfire and obscenities. KA-BOOM! SCREEEEE! RATATATATATATAT BOOM! OW MUTHAFUC--
Not hard enough to cause a panic, but enough for anybody, enhanced senses or not, to feel it. He glanced over to Peter and then to Luke, nodding to them in turn to check it out. .
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Post by Deleted on Jul 16, 2016 16:40:03 GMT -7
CLINT BARTONThree weeks. Three short weeks, and Manhattan was in flames. Gangs ran the streets now, opening fire in every direction in hopes of establishing dominance. Some worked for Osborn, some worked for Fisk. The Hood and Mr. Negative's men were involved, too. This information was given to Clint via outside sources. Usually, he'd be suited up and taking the fight to the assholes much like the unregistered heroes were doing right now. But alas, he was forced inside by the government, locked away in a place he usually was quick to call home. Well, a home away from home. This place was no other than Avengers Tower. The usually cozy headquarters was now more like a prison cell, and his sanity was slowly being sucked away at not knowing whether or not his city was ever going to return to the way it was. It seemed like a daily routine now... Sit and stare out of the large window that overlooked New York, and hope for the best. It had truly become a daily routine. Any other day that he was trapped in the Tower, he'd play Tekken or something to pass the time, or catch up on a favorite TV show. But knowing that people were dying, that the grand buildings that lined the streets were being engulfed in flames and crumbling under their own weight... It wasn't something that Clint could simply ignore. His bow fingers itched. He wanted out of here. But that wasn't something that could easily be accomplished. The law had made their decision... If he, or any other Avenger was caught outside of the tower, they'd be knee-deep in legal papers. Still, he saw Cap's expression. He knew better than anyone else that as a man of the people, knowing how much suffering the gang wars were causing, he wanted to be out and fighting as much as Clint did. But he wasn't going to go up to him and speak his mind about the situation, or persuade him to escape the tower and go out fighting... All that would do is test his nerves. He couldn't do that. Not with how on edge Cap most likely was. He couldn't believe that he felt this way... But he was worried about Daredevil. About Spider-Man. All those on the ground that for all he knew, were dead. Most of all, though... He was worried about Quake. After the fateful rioting at Osborn's rally three weeks prior, he returned to her apartment only to discover a smashed window and bullet holes scattering the walls. Oh... Blood, too. He knew very well that there was a chance that she was dead long before evacuation had even begun. If only he would've stuck around... As much as he blamed himself for her disappearance, he chose not to beat himself up too much. There were other matters at hand, anyways. After investigating around her apartment, and finding no sign of her at the bottom of the smashed window, he prepared to take to the streets before being called back to the tower. When he arrived, he wasn't surprised to find Steve gathering up the Avengers to discuss matters involving the altercation at the rally, and intel gathered by various S.H.I.E.L.D. informants. News of the growing storm spread like wildfire, evidently. And for a moment, Clint had a sliver of hope that this entire situation could be prevented. That the fake notion that heroes always win was actually true. Alas, here he sat. Three weeks later, locked up in the very same tower, with the city falling to ashes. His mind buzzed with so many thoughts going back to the previous three weeks. What he had done in the face of this situation, what Daredevil had done, what Quake had done... Spidey, Luke, Cap, and so on... It was a mix of guilt and what-if scenarios that kept replaying like a broken record. Shaking his head and giving a heavy sigh, he stood and walked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. At night? Strange, but he wanted to keep himself awake as long as he could. He couldn't sleep with the chaos going on below. As he neared the kitchen, on the counter sat a copy of the King James Bible. Clint was never a particularly religious man... But in times like these, it was sometimes a comforting read. It was opened to Revelations... What better to read in what most would think are the end times?
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Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2016 11:12:14 GMT -7
These three weeks had been true hell for Roger. At least he had one blessing though, he had managed to get his daughter Kali out of there, to her mother's house. Still, he felt a nagging feeling that something would go wrong. The past three weeks he was moving form place to place, busting up riots and gang attacks.
Currently he was in the middle of fighting a group of Hood's goons, but he was running low on ammunition. The original creator of the suit had made it so that it would replenish it's supply of quills automatically, but he was using them with such frequency during thse past few weeks he was close to running out. "Man, I better give Bantham some major thanks if I live through all this" Said Roger, talking about his boxing trainer as he punched out a goon with a couple of quick jabs.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2016 15:38:37 GMT -7
The nightmares came every night now Every night they would consume her, every night she found herself bolting down the streets of New York, hands drenched in the blood something...inhuman. She could never remember why she was there, only that she needed something, something important, something to help whoever’s blood was on her hands, but it eluded her...then came the screaming. The screaming of people all around her as gunshots echoed through the street, then the screams of the distant metal above her as fire and brimstone filled the air and came raining down, bringing darkness. She didn’t remember much past that, just the dulled feelings of waking up caged, her body straining not to crack under the pressure and taste of blood and molten steel...the sound of chittering around her, soft giggles that Jovie knew all too well. She opened her eyes to find hell entrenching itself on earth, with her body partially entombed within it. Every attempt to move was met with searing pain and screams falling on deaf ears except one. The flames around her danced to it’s tune, every sound she heard was simply it’s taunts, it’s way of saying she was finally trapped and there was nowhere to run anymore. She only wished for it to just finish things, and it was all too happy to oblige as it’s shadow ascended from the inferno, chalk white skin crimson red in the light. The last thing she saw before darkness was the Reaver flying through the air, feral eyes wide with glee and mouth open and watering to finally take a taste of it’s prey...and then she woke up. Like a catapult, she found herself being pushed (screaming all the way) from the warzone to the near blackness of a small store room. The glow of the lantern beside her touched every corner of the stone box, illuminating the shelves containing such fine products as Mr Clean, Ajax, and, of course, 3 years old Club soda. She couldn’t help but groan as she leaned against the wall with her padded sheet, the heavily stitched scars running down the left side of Jovie’s chest, across her upper arm, and curving from the right side of her neck to the top of her spine, as well as the numerous 3rd degree burns patched throughout her body moaning in protest. She was no stranger to pain, that wasn’t what was bothering her. It was too...quiet. New York was often loud, annoying, never sleeping, never stopping (one perk of setting up in a subway was not hearing what happens above ground). As much as she hated the noise, it’s sudden absence only served to remind her of her failings as a hero...well, if she even was one anyway. This train of thought was abruptly halted as the uncomfortable silence was thankfully shattered by the swift sounds of gunshots in the distance. Despite her head hitting the wall in frustration (and the crying of her fatigued muscles), she took one glance at her armor, laying scattered on the shelf before her, she simply huffed and used her right arm to get herself back on her feet, the left arm in a makeshift sling. “Ugh...no rest for the wicked”----------------------------------------- This was getting ridiculous. Every time Time Knight came up against the gangs they were carrying bigger and badder weapons, they had started to punch holes in the suits inner layers a few days ago. Now, not only was she facing the Hood’s goons, whom she couldn’t just de-limb like the inner demons, they had f**k**g LASERS THAT WENT THROUGH HER LIKE PAPER FOIL!! Oh, and she had a broken arm, meaning all she could do was run and swing her energy sword wildly with her right hand. At least Porcupine had better maneuverability, Time Knight’s suit was like a tank, big and clunky. Still, at the very least, this allowed her to introduce their heads to the force of a small brick wall, as the Hood goon whom just shot her into a wall learned as she then sent him into a nearby car. With a small breather, she glanced over to Porcupine, still punching away at them since his spines seemed to just stop. “How are you doing Porcupine?”
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Post by Deleted on Jul 22, 2016 7:26:06 GMT -7
"I'm hanging in there" Responded Roger, as he punched out another thug "Appreciate the assistance!" Picking up a baseball Bat that a another gang had dropped in a previous fight, Roger kept up the fight. While not bashing in skulls, he more then likely was breaking a few ribs while swinging at the goons. "I assume by the getup your some kind of knight?" asked Porcupine, as he swung at the kneecaps of one of his assailants.
He was trying his best to keep up his upbeat personality, despite the situation, but things were taking their toll. He was sore, tired, and had seen more violence in three weeks than he ever had in his entire life. There was only one thing that mattered to Roger however. He WOULD make it through this. He would save the people of the city, and he would survive through it. He would make this city safe for his daughter.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 22, 2016 14:18:59 GMT -7
CAPTAIN AMERICA Two Weeks went by and Captain America has left the tower only a few times to help with Avengers matters, other than that he has been cooped up here at the tower. There was information that was vague on a portable explosive device had him concerned about New York it was rumored that Green Goblin or Mr. Negative had it according to his few friends in S.h.i.e.l.d. Steve was feed up with most of the S.h.i.e.l.d. agents even one of them taunting him down in the parking lot before he left. When he was working on his van. Steve was able to get a leave and go on an Avengers mission overseas. On the way there the quin jet malfunction and was last documented near Iraq. Mandarin was taking credit for the shooting down of a shield Quinn jet. He did not leave for Iraq, he instead was meeting in secret with Daredevil at a laundromat to discuss the situation for the last week. He had also been going undercover saving the unfortunate few stuck in the city. Unfortunately, he could not get hold of Widow, So he needed Clint Barton. Now: Every time he returns to the Tower the city looks more and more like a Warzone. Steve had just arrived at the children's hospital in the south Building where he snuck in. One of the children was alert he was there showed him a youtube video that was live. " Mr. Rodgers is it true god doesn't exist? If I'm going to die... where do I go?" It was his older brother dressed as Capt. America and a few other dressed up like Avengers trying to fight back and were caught. All his brother's friends are dead. One of the bad guys continues to whip his brother looks at his brother cell phone and sees the real Captain America in a picture shows it to the live feed and shouts, "Do you surrender? There is no more America. Now surrender like the coward you Avengers are." His brother spits in the thugs face then shouts, " Never. God help me ... someone. The thunderbolts were going to let us die but Capt. America... Ahhhh He saved me yesterday now it is time for us to stand up against this evil in New York." Captain America had been sneaking out from the Hospital there. And now the S.h.i.e.l.d was aware of someone there now. Steve pulls the kid in close and hugs him then hands him a small communicator, " "Relax your not going to die soldier. Your brother is a brave soldier just like you. Looks like I have to leave now. I'm going to get your brother... no one needs to die for me. I'm going to show you god exists."Steve sneaks out back to the parking lot grabs two bags out of his van quickly and heads upstairs with three agents closing in on him. He walked in and seen Clint sitting down at a kitchen table with a bible. He dropped one of the bags on the table, then pointed to the bible. "Well if you're coming with me you might need that and this. We need to leave now. The Quinn jet is out of the question but my van is ready. The only problem is we need to fight or most likely sneak through about two dozen S.h.i.e.l.d. agents." In the bag was Hawkeye's outfit and his equipment that Steve had hidden in his van.
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" That'd be me. The Spider-Man of tomorrow, here to save today... "
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Post by Rift on Jul 23, 2016 22:42:01 GMT -7
Spider-Man sighed, but wasted no time in heading back out into the streets, waiting only long enough to restock his web cartridges, yet another resource that was running low. As he headed towards the source of the disturbance he called out to Cage. "I'll hit 'em high, you hit 'em low, and hopefully we hit them hard enough to give ourselves a little breathing room tonight."With that he took the rooftops, sticking to the shadows and jumping as much as possible to help conserve the web-fluid. In short order he found the battle in progress, the Game of Thrones fan he had met a few weeks prior and Porcupine, the villain attempting to be a hero. Though he had given him some light ribbing upon their first meeting months prior, a battle with Shriek driven rioters and later Mr. Negative's goons, but in truth he kind of liked the man. He was maybe a little more willing to give him the benefit of a doubt than say ol' Hornhead, but he figured that a everyone deserved a second chance to make up for their mistakes. Lord knew he was grateful for his own. As it was the poor guy was fighting a gaggle of well armed thugs with little more than a baseball bat, his usually spiky self looking kind of low on the quills he took his name from. Likewise the Knight seemed close to faltering. He couldn't blame either one of them. Like the rest of the street level's who stayed behind to fight, they were exhausted from non-stop battle. His own fatigue was starting to show as he leapt into the fray without one of his typical quips handy. Instead he silently shot web balls into the eyes of some of Hood's men and fired a webline to snare the gun arm of another, the laser beam going wide and burning a hole through a nearby wall rather than one of the heroes. The smell of burnt ozone almost made him gag, but the wallcrawler didn't slow down as he grabbed a manhole cover with his webbing before finally touching down. A backwards leap took him over the head of a goon charging him from behind as a solid Spider Strength backed kick sent the fool tumbling forward into the open sewer. Back on his feet he began to whirl the cover over his head like a rodeo performer with a lasso, striking several armed crooks in the knees before finally let it fly...right into the chest of a Hood gangster setting up a pricey, high-tech rifle on a nearby fire escape. Going airborne once more as he twisted between beams, Spidey webbed the feet of the goon nearest Porcupine, pinning him in place. "Yo, Pincushion! Make like Piazza already!" he shouted to the baseball bat wielding vigilante, before addressing the armor clad hero. "Don't you worry Aragorn! You have my webs! And his bat! And Luke's tiara!"Okay, so he wasn't completely out of puns. He had to do something to keep from crying after all and randomly shouting out gibberish seemed to be doing the trick.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 24, 2016 1:40:51 GMT -7
Cage ground and pounded, absorbing as much as the damage as he could away from the tired rookies and onto himself. Compared to his companions, he was relatively fresh, and began to plough through them. Though the laser beam burned. He turned his imposing figure onto the rifle carrier who began to panic and quiver. He grabbed the rifle and crushed it in his hand, handing it back to him. He didn't say a word, but gave the same warning he gave everyone. The little man ran away. He turned and saw Spider-Man in a bit of a spot and decided to charge, dropping a gigantic boot to one guy in full armor, who went colliding into his companions, knocking them over like bowling pins. "THIS WAY!" he called to the group, and he punched down a manhole that would come up to the back door of the laundromat and out of the fighting, who had begun to partially clear out. He waited until all the others followed through before jumping down himself. ((OOC: Rift, Porcupine, Broken, can you each write your reactions to this?)) --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Daredevil sensed them return within a few minutes, and they were not alone. Behind Luke and Spider-Man was the Porcupine. He had his reservations given his reckless behavior, but he was nevertheless grateful to see him make it out alive. The other was the part-timer known as Time Knight, whom he only encountered briefly during Shriek's rampage. "Linda's gonna have a field day with this..." he muttered with a sardonic tone under his breath; he heard her head into the bathroom a few minutes after Luke and Peter had stepped out. After giving the two newcomers some welcoming nods of the head, he turned to Spider-Man. "How bad was it?" he asked; while he could sense the conflict, there were too many sounds pulsing around to give a clear update, which had begun to frustrate Jessica, who was now admonishing Luke for his plan to punch through the street. Even Iron Fist kept his hands in the air and his rear on the couch, as if not wanting to mediate the two of them. "You asshole! Completely reckless! DD won't say it, but what if they follow that down the - -""Really? After what just - -""No! No excuses! Cap's already dicked off again to hell knows where and you're out landscaping!"
"Enough! You two realize you're not as quiet as you think?" snapped Daredevil irritably. "Whatever!" said Luke and Jessica together. Finally on the same page.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 27, 2016 5:42:02 GMT -7
They didn’t stop coming, for every one thug that Time Knight managed to put down, 5 more came whizzing round the corner with bigger guns and better armor. That wasn’t her biggest problem though. Despite the whole fight seeming like a haze to begin with, now it seemed like her vision was beginning to fail her, enemies were starting to blur together and there even seemed to be a ringing growing in her ears. Even without knowing where they hit her, she knew all too well that one of them had hit a vital spot, now she was starting to pass out...if only one of them hadn’t decided to ram her into a wall, she probably would’ve passed out. The sudden impact caused everything to snap back into it’s adrenaline sharpened form, with the dark shadow in front of Time Knight revealed to be a biker with what looked like power fists. She wasn’t too happy with him, so in response, Time Knight hammered her own fist into the guy’s stomach before sidestepping him to the left, coiling her right arm around his torso, and whipping him around into the wall face first. She quickly followed this with her fist pulling his head back and smashing it into the wall again for good measure. Strangely enough, as each move and hit connected, a wave of euphoria rushed over her, as if just this, admittedly, more brutal takedown was like the ultimate catharsis in the warzone. Immediately after, almost as if unconsciously riding the high, she almost instinctively turned toward the crowds in front of her and roared “COME OOOOOON!” with her microphone starting to short out and making it sound like she was some kind of glitching gargling man woman demon. The thugs didn’t get the chance to respond to the threat though, as mere moments later, a group of them broke off to deal with a figure moving above Time Knight, someone too fast for her to see until they were on the ground. It was Spider-man, and despite the perpetual inferno around them, he seemed in fine form, effortlessly downing several of them with nothing but a well placed kick and a manhole cover. Adding insult to injury, the others that found themselves distracted by the display were then run down by the Cage Train, as she liked to call it, followed by his immediately opening a hole to the sewers. “Tha@£ *ou my F£*%&ds” She muttered tiredly, as she reached the hole, her mic still half destroyed. ----------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She had to admit, the second she entered the laundromat, she couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief (which came out like a robot was screaming in pain) at the sight of somewhere that seemed relatively safe and fortified for once. Priority one: find somewhere out of sight and check herself over. She wandered the small basement until finding a very small back room with no one inside, where she proceeded to remove her helmet and rip out the microphone, leaving a small rectangular hole. “Another window for a good shot, right at my neck too” She muttered lightly, letting out a weak chuckle. There was a mirror in the room that was face height, her white hair stained red with blood...except it wasn’t that way earlier. Stripping out of the suit, her skin went even whiter than she thought was possible at the sight of her stitched neck wound open once more, though thankfully there was minimal bleeding since it had two weeks to heal a little. “Oh...night nurse is gonna kill me” She whimpered, her body starting to shake a little. With that, she removed the cloth cowl that covered her helmet and put it over her head; she couldn't hide her wings, but her face was good enough as she fell in line with Porcupine.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 27, 2016 6:52:04 GMT -7
Running water poured continuously into the sink basin, the sound of it drowning out most of the murmurs and discussions from the other room, as Night Nurse watched Daredevil's blood swirl from her fingers and circle down the drain. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to center her thoughts and regain her composure for the sake of the brave men and women who needed her help and expertise, though her whole body began to quiver with realization of their situation. In all her years of running her secret clinic in Chinatown, she had never seen so many injuries on so many powerful heroes, never had run so low on supplies, and despite all she had done thus far, she couldn't help but feel utterly useless. Oh Matt...why are you fighting this so hard? We're losing this war...we lost. These tiny victories are only drawing out the inevitable and are going to get someone killed. It's only a matter of time before someone dies on my table. Linda's hands clutched tightly to the sides of sink to support herself, tears tracing down her cheeks and splashing against the water still clinging to the basin in heavy drops. And I don't want it to be you.
Night Nurse looked up at her own tearful reflection in the mirror and glowered at herself, shaking her head furiously. Linda Carter, you get those defeatist thoughts out of your head right now! This is Matt, we're talking about. Daredevil. The Man Without Fear. And if he's not afraid, you shouldn't be either. She rubbed her upper sleeve against her eyes and cheeks to dry away the last of her doubt and despair and gave herself a reassuring nod. So, come on, girlie. Brave face. Your patients need you.
After her self-prescribed pep talk, Night Nurse returned to the others with a renewed sense of purpose, and found that a few more heroes had joined their ranks. She immediately went into professional mode with a warm, yet coy smirk. “Guess this is your cavalry, DD? Line up, show me where you were injured. Masks can stay on. Costumes come off. Don't worry, the Night Nurse will get you all patched up, good as new."
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" That'd be me. The Spider-Man of tomorrow, here to save today... "
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Post by Rift on Jul 27, 2016 17:02:22 GMT -7
Spidey had been in the thick of things, so focused on trying to take down enemies quickly so that Time Knight and Porcupine could get some breathing room, he practically ignored his spider-sense when it alerted him to the armored foe behind him. He turned just in time to see Luke Cage flatten the man. With a mock salute of thanks to the former Powerman he turned his attention to covering the heroes' escape, webbing still stirring men to the ground and tripping up a few of the still standing before he too followed them back to the relative safety of their secret hiding hole. Real good Parker. You have Spider Sense for a reason, it's the only thing keeping you going these days, and you ignored it! If Luke hadn't been there you'd probably be joining Sir Lancelot and Spike over there in getting medical treatment...if you were really lucky. MJ is going to kill me if I get killed! he thought, eyes drooping as he collapsed onto a very uncomfortable and barely holding together chair. Sleep. You need sleep. At this rate you are walking around like one of those idiot teens in a Freddy Krueger flick, barely awake, making quips so lame Dane Cook is mocking you. Just like, an hour or two. With no sirens, no screams, no...And like that he was out, dozing while still sitting in the chair, completely unfazed by the arguing of Luke and Jessica or the makeshift hospital scene around him. In his half-awake, half-asleep state he saw Mary Jane and wondered if she was doing okay since she was outside the city. Maybe, just maybe if things died down he could sneak out or get a message to her. After all, if he could rescue Black Tarantula's kid from this mess as he had last week, a reassuring moment with MJ shouldn't be out of the question. A banging noise, likely something being set down before it was put towards casting someone's limb or sewing flesh back together jolted him upright. "I'm, I'm up, ready to go, all of that stuff!" he declared.
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