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Post by HoM on May 15, 2019 15:39:45 GMT -5
Okay, so which issue do I read to find out what happened to Lois? ...I guess we won't actually learn the specific events, but she appears soon after (in-continuity) in the Action Comics Annual where Superman takes on the forces of Apokolips, and faces off against Darkseid for the first time since IXE: The Apokolips Imperatives.
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2019 15:38:17 GMT -5
After some required catching up on past stories; this issue was good in its horrorific usage of Flamingo and the explored background of Copperhead, I cannot wait to see what’s installed for our rogueish team. I have to say, Flamingo is one of my favourite Morrison-era villains, and UDC does a great job with him here. When Grant Morrison launched Batman & Robin, every arc did something different and new, both story and character-wise. I know we tried to do something similar around the same time in our Bat-family of books, with the likes of the the Prince of Lies and his lackey Milo Vesuvius; the horrific, Cronenbergian Flesh-Monger and the old fashioned crazy of Gum-Moll... unique spins on Nicholas Lucian, aka Brimstone, and the rarely seen Boss Synth.. that was more an attempt to capture that mid-90s, Dixon era villainous madness that was so good before the mainline Bat-books drowned in yearly crossovers. Good times! Wish they hadn't petered out!
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2019 15:31:45 GMT -5
Hey it’s Matt I've finally returned to the community after a long emotional journey through college life; its like coming back from the phantom zone but with schoolwork. I apologize for my lack of contact on the site and the unfinished B’wana Beast oneshot, college work had taken up my writing schedule and finals only worsened my chances. However this summer, I intend to correct my mistakes and finish my issue for All-Star Comics. Welcome back! We have covers awaiting your story, so be sure to reach out to Admin (Mark) via the Messages option at the top of the site and continue your story! Excited to see the final version hit the site!
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2019 15:30:16 GMT -5
Superb. Just superb, Charlie. “World Enough and Time" just might be my favourite story on the site to date, and one of my favourite Supergirl-- Super woman-- stories of all, well, time. That’s definitely some high praise. Interestingly, some of the first comics I ever read were issues of Superman Family from the 70s that we found in the local charity shop. That, along with Batman: Strange Apparitions were some of the formative stories of my youth and have probably influenced more DC2 stories than I can possibly say. There’s just something about that era that resonates with me, same as all the Ellis and Morrison content that permeates my work. An amazing balance of character, plot, and action. I was excited enough when the first twist was revealed: that Superwoman had come back not to one of the 'quiet' days in Kal-El's career, but to help resolve some the world's unknown crises, in advance! Yes! This story was building even as I wrote it, so it took me in directions I didn’t quite expect, but once that twist took shape, I knew exactly where this was going to go. Figuring out the crises, and also making it so that her actions made sense was fiddly. She had to make sure of certain things happening, she had to not pre-empt certain things, but she could save lives, and do more, as well as save the love of her life. She saved Lena, and countless lives, and that iteration of the Justice League, and what did she lose? Nothing, but she could have… and still might… but we’ll get to that further down. But the second twist took my breath away! I was thrilled that Kara and Lena were back, then shocked when you revealed the real reason for Kara's mission. It was heartfelt and really well written. Thank you. I wanted to show post- Omega Crisis world without revealing that’s where we’re at, so we had all these cameos from future characters (and then the fucking Legion! I didn’t know I had it in me, but with the Omnicron making an appearance, that just had to happen-- and they helped save the day!) and we discovered how irrevocable the damage was to the love of her life. But she’s not let anything stop her before, so why accept that now? I loved how, in Kara's time, her friends and allies were willing to help her. This was the sort of story time travel suits best. This was the part of the story I was most worried about! Thematically, it’s close to what Hal Jordan wanted to do after the destruction of Coast City-- he wanted more power to bring the city back to life! Before fear parasites and all that malarkey, it was about bringing back a city he failed. I was struck as I wrote it by how selfish Kara was doing… and it’s a theme we also see in The CW’s Flash show… you can’t use time travel as a way of fixing your mistakes… but Kara’s single-mindedness drove the story forward. One thing we’ve established with her character is that she’s stubborn and driven. She didn’t speak to Lena for 2-3 years because she blamed her for the loss of Kru, even if she knew, in her heart of hearts, it wasn’t Lena’s fault. But sometimes, once she makes an emotionally-driven decision, even if it’s the wrong one, she’ll stick with it, even when it brings her nothing but misery. This is a continuation of those personality traits established in previous stories, but I was worried that the reader might turn on her. What gives her the right to do something so selfish? Then I thought… she’s sacrificed everything for this universe. For this reality and so many others! So why not bend the rules? Why not, this one time, she do such a thing? It was also an opportunity to revisit the small group of confidantes that Kara has surrounded herself with so far in the DC2. Her relationship with Doctor Fate is alluded to in the last Christmas special we did, a few years back. Nat Irons has been by her side quite a lot. Kon is her cousin, they’re family, and of course Krypto wouldn’t abandon her. It was good to reinforce that, and also show that she’s built so much for herself in her time as the sole protector of Earth (and the universe, obvs) in the absence of Superman. Originally, there were major temporal repercussions to her changing the timeline. I excised an entire plot thread-- half written*!-- with Rip Hunter travelling to Vanishing Point and witnessing what the changes to the timeline wrought, which was the destabilising of the foundation of Vanishing Point, and the discovery of why Vanishing Point exists in the first place. But it disrupted the final scene with the ring, so it had to go. We were going to learn… that Vanishing Point is a prison. And the sole prisoner it holds is a member of the chaotic, eldritch pantheon we’ve established across the DC2, with the likes of Nekron (in Nemesis), M'nagalah (in Green Lantern Corps), Xthulhu (in Aquaman) and the creatures of Ugthothlhem (from Justice League counted amongst their numbers. I know the basis of their existence-- it’s actually outlined in the appearances of Ugthothlhem’s avatar in Justice League, and it was also discussed during M'nagalah’s manifestation during the desecration of Coast City in Green Lantern Corps… they’re all creatures from the First World. Cosmic war criminals on the god-level. They’re the First Gods. We’re in the Fourth World, on the cusp of the Fifth, but the First Gods still exist, trapped in nether realms beneath and below reality. They’re locked up, and the final DC2 story… my final DC2 story… will be about when they’re finally freed. “Oh, but Charlie, didn’t all the doors open up when the Key was empowered by Krona over in Omega Crisis?” C’mon, guys. I know what I’m doing. …Anyway, where was I? Vanishing Point! In the now deleted scene, we were going to spend time with all sorts of time travellers, and set up a villain for later issues on the site, but then I realised how badly the story was getting away with me. I might share those scenes at some point, but they’re out of continuity and might find a new home down the line… The beast is called the Chronmirridon by the way. It’s been imprisoned under Vanishing Point since time became a concept in the universe. And it is angry… *Every title I write, I also have a file nearby called “Chaff”; paragraphs and sequences that I had to strip out of the final story. A lot of the time its because the story changes direction, but sometimes its crap. For this, I was getting too far away from the story itself, so I had to delete the scenes around the thread. You kept delivering amazing lines, call-backs, and moments until the epic finale: the cosmic drumroll of time travel...clear skies and calm seas..."I don't want to forget you." Finally, the sweet ending with the promise of a ring. This is an issue I'll read again and again. It's been important to me for every Superwoman story to build on the last. Each story is a milestone, each event important. In her miniseries, we were following her through the years, and she’s taken the spotlight in her appearances in Omega Crisis (I know, I know, I need to finish it). We’ve discovered her character and taken leaps with her every time she appears, and if she’s the last character I write on the site, I’d be happy. What will happen when we next see Kara and Lena? Can the DC2 withstand another wedding? I guess it would have to come out after Omega Crisis concludes, because even though we’re jumping ahead of that (the universe survives Krona… of course it would) there are some important wedding-related threads from that story that need to be tied up. The fights were never the most important thing in this. The characters drove the story, and I wanted to spend more time with people interacting, rather than fists flying. Its important to me that the Els don’t really start fights, that’s why she’s trying so hard to talk Batman down. It’s why she relies on her other superpowers to end their fracas, and it’s why she doesn’t throw a punch against Doctor Demo’s forces. She doesn’t need to. And I also didn’t want Clark to think poorly of Kara at the end of the story! Everything about this group of characters boils down to love. There’s so much hope and optimism-- so much trust-- that I think the other members of the Justice League think that Superman is naïve, but I don’t think that’s the case. He wants to believe that people are capable of their very best, and Kara is the epitome of that. I think there’s relief that she’s not turned out to be some kind of evil double-- or Ultragirl!-- and he knows that she’s doing the best she can, and that’s the thing that makes him the proudest. Oooph, I’m glad you appreciate the layers to this story. I put so much into it, kept folding and folding and folding until the story was this elaborate piece of origami, and I’m glad it looks as good as it does. And those covers! Mike really helped me out on this, and it wouldn’t have been right to hit a milestone like Action Comics #50 without Roy-- and also his son!-- contributing art. The pair of them really made this story special. There’s only one plot thread still dangling from the first chapter of this story, but that’s going to have to wait another day. I’m kinda miffed that I completely forgot about it when I hit the conclusion, but its not a massive one… its just important to me. More on that later, I guess. But at the end of the day, I think these three issues of Action Comics could stand as my thesis statement on the DC2. This all started with a unique version of Kara’s origin written by Roy and edited by Brian, and led to a future that is deserving of where she’s gone since that stellar debut, all borne from a desire to prove somebody wrong (me, that is). I'm really proud of this story, and couldn't have told it without the DC2. So, thank you.
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2019 14:37:29 GMT -5
Damn! What a great issue. Finally back to reading some titles on DC2, and, Charlie, as always you do NOT disappoint. I love the combination of action, politics, and mystery, with some clues unearthed for future issues. Thanks for taking the time to read and feedback, O. It’s always mega appreciated. I’ve wanted to talk about the overall thematic idea behind the book for a while, but haven’t found the right place to unload about it… basically, I see this book as the superhero / superspy equivalent of Netflix’s House of Cards, a series I saw described as “stupid smart” at some point or another. House of Cards is stupid but wants so desperately to be thought of as smart. All the characters are devious backstabbers, they’re all playing seemingly intricate games, but from the outside looking in… god, they’re all so stupid. It boils down to those hackneyed fourth wall breaking monologues we got from first Frank, and then later Claire Underwood. God they were stupid. People laying out the themes and subtext until it was so obvious it hurt, like being bashed over the head with a mallet of all things. That’s not great story telling. That’s just… reading a script in an awful faux Southern accent. So, yeah, “stupid smart” really stood out to me. They were trying so hard, yet if you give it any amount of critical though, it’s like… oh, wow, they did what and got away with it? How does that tie into Checkmate? Well, I’ve tried really hard to make the series as intricately woven as possible, but I know at the end of the day it’s a lot of characters just talking fast and using big words. I wanted everyone to be really cool and sexy and… spy-y… but then I realised I kept writing my way into these knotty corners, and so every issue characters sum up all the stuff I alluded to, and laid it out to other characters (and the readers). And when you have so many disparate characters in your cast, it kind of makes sense to do so? After an adventure, one (or more) character(s) rocks up to the place where they weren’t before, then a(nother) character(s) catch them up on their own adventure, and then they part ways and I repeat that structure every issue for nine issues… So, yes, for all my intentions, I think of Checkmate as being “stupid smart”, because after reflecting on all the plot points I’d set up in advance of writing the season finale, I realised… oh, shit, is everybody an idiot? And then I gave up on the season finale and haven’t written anything DC2-related for two months. I've really liked seeing how Checkmate operates (and I'll need to make note of their involvement in YJ...If I ever have time to return to my outline.) I made a concerted effort to make sure the structure of the Checkmate organisation as undeniably clear as obvious. There has to be a reason for four different branches of the group, rather than a strict adherence to the chess motif. When (if) we return for Season 2 (which I have plotted, and I’ve got a great, Steve Trevor-centric, DC2-embedded arc planned for the opening), I really want to take somebody else off the board-- ala Neptune Perkins as Black King-- and have someone of the opposite gender take up the gender-specific position that was opened up. Just because its White King and Black King doesn’t mean a man has to be in the role. But I digress… excited to see the return of Young Justice to the site, whenever you’re able. I thought I was ready for this issue to wrap up, anticipating a twist, but I was pleasantly shocked by the arrival of the BLACKHAWKS!? Great job, man! Looking forward to the next issue. Yes, I wanted to change things up with the way Black King structures his branch of the organisation, and with Valentina consolidating her position by preemptively absorbing all his assets into her own branch, he had to start from somewhere… so why not pay for his own private army? I was also interested in putting a spin on Lady Blackhawk’s cross-time arrival into the present, so we’ll eventually see the cause of that in the DC2. Sufficed to say, we’ve met the reason for her displacement already in the earliest issues of this book…
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 13:42:43 GMT -5
Amazing Spider-ManIssue #5: “ The Deadliest Game, Part 5: Spiders, Tarantulas, and Scorpions, Oh My!” Written by Brian Burchette Cover by Roy Flinchum Edited by Charles HoM Space… the final frontier… before it runs out and my body goes splat all across the pavement. Spider-Man thought to himself as he felt the wind knocking him around. He was not having a good day. His body was going numb; his extremities were becoming more and more difficult to move. The villain called Tarantula had poisoned him and beat the snot out of him… oh yea, and had poisoned him. If that wasn't enough to make for a bad day, he had then knocked Peter off of the top of the Empire State Building. Blacked out for a second, he thought to himself. Not much time left. Have to move my arm, just a little. Hope this works Even though his arms were at his side, nearly paralyzed from the venom that flowed through his veins, he still fired his webbing, forcing his two middle fingers down onto the palm of his hand so he could trigger his web-shooter. The webbing shot out and hit the side of the building. Peter braced himself as best he could as his body was jolted from the sudden stop, then he swung sideways, closing his eyes as he crashed through one of the office windows of the cities largest building. He fell to the floor amidst the shattered glass, his costume torn in several spots. People in the office had screamed at the sudden disruption and were running around in a panic. One young woman walked over to where he lay paralyzed from the poison. She wore a mini skirt and a tight blouse and she gazed down upon him with genuine concern in her face. Peter looked up at her, noting that the woman in the mini skirt, standing above him, was wearing Johnny Storm underwear. That should have been entertaining for him, but he was too busy falling back into unconsciousness. *** Professor Gerald Allan was ushered unceremoniously into a rather large laboratory, many of his own personal items lying neatly on the work tables. The man with no face shoved him into the room, then turned to leave without an explanation. “Wait!” Allan shouted. “Where's my daughter? What have you done with her? What do you want from me?” “My business associate and I want you to do what you do best,” The Chameleon replied with a rather heavy Russian accent. “We want you to create for us.” “Create… what?” He asked with trepidation. “You created the Rhino, and now we want you to make another creature. Our financer has come up with a design for a suit that we know you are capable of making, and we have a subject to test it on. If you are able to do this in forty-eight hours, you and your daughter will be free to go. If not… she will be in terrible danger.” “Forty-eight hours? I'm not sure I can. Please… please give me more time.” “Forty-eight hours, Doctor.” Chameleon stated flatly. Summoning an inner strength he didn't even know he had, Professor Allen folded his arms. “And if I don't? If you kill her, there is no way I will precede. You might as well kill me as well, at that point.” The Chameleon laughed. “Oh no, you have us all wrong, Doctor. You have my word that we will not murder her. We are not, after all, animals. However, when we get through with her, she will wish she was dead. Such a beautiful face, she has. What a shame if it were scarred beyond repair.” The villain took note that Professor Allen's face had turned pale. “Does your daughter enjoying painting… or perhaps writing? Wouldn't it be tragic if she no longer had any fingers to do either? You see, Doctor Allen, if we killed her, you may have to live with that fact, but you would still have the memories of her beauty and kindness; however, let her live and strip that away, and that is something you would have to look at for the rest of your life. Now get busy.” He said nothing more as he walked out the door. Professor Allen walked into the room and looked around; there was an attached room that had a large window connecting the two. He gazed through it, shocked to see an unconscious man lying flat on a surgical table. His test subject, he presumed. He wiped his eyes, Oh God, what have I done?*** The blackness was fading around him, and when he came to, he found himself lying on a couch in someone's office. Spider-Man looked around to find the occupant of the room was sitting in her chair, staring at him with a look of total fascination. “How… how long was I out?” He asked as he tried to sit up, the poison in his body causing his stomach to roll over. “About half an hour,” the young but dour little woman said. “Too long,” he murmured as he dropped his head into his hands. “Whatever Tarantula poisoned me with, I don't think it was meant to kill me, or I'd be dead now.” “I dragged you in here before anyone else saw you,” the young woman with glasses so thick it made her eyes several times larger then they were, said. “That's nice of you.” He replied awkwardly. Standing up gingerly, he began to sway as the remaining poison played havoc with his system. His stomach once again rolled over, and he motioned quickly to the garbage pail by her desk. “Are you using that?” “Oh no,” She said very kindly, “Please, be my guest.” “Thanks,” he mumbled as he dropped to his knees, lifted the front of his mask to his nose, then proceeded to wretch into the basket. “Superheroes are a pastime of mine.” The young lady said, paying no attention to what was happening at her feet. “I've been a big fan of the Fantastic Four for some time now.” “I bet Johnny Storm is your favorite.” “Why yes, how did you know!” She exclaimed with a squeal of delight. Spider-Man wretched into the can again. “Who was that guy you were fighting?” “Another costumed weirdo who was trying to kidnap a…” He stopped suddenly, remembering Professor Allen and what had started the whole thing. “I've got to get out of here.” He said, trying to stand up again. “I'm not sure you're ready to go swinging through the city yet,” She stated. “Have to, but thanks for the concern.” He was standing there, embracing the waste basket to his chest, just in case; however, the sickness seemed to be ebbing a bit. “The Daily Bugle is right about you, you know. You are a real hero!” “Umm, thanks?” He was a bit embarrassed now, especially since she had begun to stare at him like a bug under a microscope. “I really have to be going… people to save and all that. Thanks for rescuing me and everything. I, uhhh…” He was at a loss for words as he sheepishly looked around for somewhere to put the basket. “Oh, don't worry about that,” She exclaimed excitedly. “I'll take care of it!” He set it down, thanked her again, opened the office window, took a deep breath, and jumped back into the concrete jungle. She watched him go, her eyes seeming to bulge from behind the glasses. After he had rounded the corner, disappearing in a flurry of webbing, she turned and gazed at the used trash can. “eBay, here I come.” *** Mary Jane Watson had barely kept up with the kidnapper and Dr. Allan, having had to grab a taxi and actually utter the phrase, “Follow that car.” The disturbing part of that, however, was that the taxi driver's reply had been a simple. “Not again.” She had followed them to a warehouse that stood overlooking the Hudson River. It was rather large and showed little sign of dilapidation. Paying the cab driver, she made her way cautiously to the side of the building, trying desperately to peer into the windows, only they had all been painted black. Who was that guy that had grabbed Gwen's friend? Some kind of shape shifter, obviously, since he had first appeared as Liz Allen, herself. Was he a mutant? What did he want with the Professor? She suddenly realized that this was the second weirdo who had gone after him, remembering The Rhino's appearance at Gwen's Senior Prom. Her heart was racing, but she had to admit that she was getting a real thrill out of her little adventure. She was not, however, stupid, and it was time to call in the Calvary. She grabbed her cell phone, hitting the nine and the one, when the side door suddenly opened. She shut her phone, jamming it back in her pocket as she stood behind the door, holding her breath. As it began to shut, she saw two men dressed in nothing more than jeans and t-shirts, heading towards the parking lot. She moved quickly, slipping her tall slender body into the entrance before the door shut all the way. The large area was completely empty, and a haze of dust filled the air. The floor, she noted, had a thin layer of dust on it, but not as much as you would expect from a warehouse that appeared to be vacant. She took another look at the floor and saw the footprints of the two men that had just left. Giving another quick sweep of the area, she followed the path that had just been created and soon found herself on the other side of the building, where she found that the footprints had just stopped - right in the middle of the floor. Pursing her lips, she once again grabbed her cell phone, but before she could program the number in, it was knocked out of her hand. She turned, startled, to find herself staring down the man with no face. “What is such a pretty young lady like you, doing in such a smelly old place like this?” “Slumming…?” It came out more of a weak question than the flippant remark she had hoped for. She thought she detected a bit of a smile, then she was struck from behind and darkness enveloped her. *** Peter Parker walked through the door of his home, that he shared with his Aunt May, to find her standing there, waiting for him. “Just where have you been?” “School.” He said shortly. “Oh really; how odd, since your school was closed today due to a break in. Would you like to try again?” Not really, he thought to himself. Instead he sighed, “I went into Manhattan to do a little shopping around.” May Parker's eye arched as she folded her arms, “For…?” “Gwen Stacey's birthday is coming up soon; I wanted to get her something nice.” He didn't know what shocked him more: the fact that the lie rolled off his tongue so easily, or that his first thought was Gwen's eighteenth birthday being only days away. Both made him more than a little uncomfortable. The lie, however, did seem to do the trick and Aunt May's body language showed that she was relaxing at the explanation. “I think that's very sweet of you, Peter, but you should have called me - I was worried sick.” “I'm sorry Aunt May. I wasn't thinking.” “But you were thinking about Gwen Stacey.” Was that a question, or a comment? Peter couldn't tell by the tone of her voice, but the small curl of a smile at the corner of her mouth made him even more uncomfortable. “I'm really tired, Aunt May. I think I'm going to go to bed early.” “Just promise me you'll call me next time?” He smiled at her. “I will, I promise.” He bounded up the stairs and into his room, closing the door behind him with a sigh of relief. It had been a long day, and first thing in the morning he was going back over to Professor Allan's to find out exactly what was going on. He also reminded himself to get a gift for Gwen's birthday. He blushed at that thought. Making sure the door was locked, he filled his web-shooters, as he did every night, then fell onto his bed and a deep sleep. *** “Are you ready?” The Chameleon asked as he hooked the man named Mac Gargan up to the same machine that only a few days earlier, Aleksie Sytsevitch had been in. He had been changed into a creature that the news had dubbed, The Rhino. Mac Gargan was dressed in a green costume of some sort, strapped down in the large tube. He was just coming to when he heard the question being asked. “I can't promise that this is going to work?” The voice of Gerald Allan said. “Hey! What the hell is going on here?” Gargan screamed as he struggled with his straps. “Are you guys connected with Roxxon Oil? Was I getting to close to something?” The Chameleon smiled, “Something… yes. Throw the switch, Professor.” Reluctantly, he did just that, and the same procedure that had transformed Sytsevitch into The Rhino, began again. Needles pierced Gargan's flesh and injected the chemicals, although a different combination. Also, this time, as Gargan's body began to grow thicker, his muscles building, the green suit, itself, sparked, as if coming to life. Mac screamed out in pain. In the shadows, the figure of a man watched with growing interest. When the procedure was done, he ordered Allan and The Chameleon to pull him out of the chamber. They did so, and when the tube opened, Mac Gargan stumbled out, his green suit revealing a large tail at the end of it. The man smiled at the resemblance to the creature he had been hoping it would look like; he was pleased that it was. “You work for me, now, Mr. Gargan,” the mysterious man said with a slight Russian accent. “Who… who the hell are you? What did you do to me?” “I go by many names, but for now, you can call me Michael Brady. It is the one that I chose while working for The Roxxon Corporation. What I did to you, with the help of my newest colleague, was turn you into something extremely powerful. You are a weapon that will have a double purpose for me. But before we get to my entertainment, I have a job for you, to test your new found powers.” “I don't know who you are, pal, but there's no way I'm working for some commie!” “You are an idiot. We do not live in the twentieth century anymore, and you will work for me… and I will tell you why…” *** The sound of the phone ringing at seven on a Saturday morning had startled Peter. It rarely rang that early, and something in the pit of his stomach told him it wasn't good news. May always went to the market early on Saturday's so he knew he was home alone. He picked up his extension, barely getting hello out, when the voice of his best friend came through the receiver, Harry's voice in a panic. “Peter, I know I woke you, but there's some serious stuff going down man, and I need your help.” “What” He asked, still trying to shake the cobwebs from his brain. “Gwen called me; Liz Allan's reported her father missing. Not only that, but her and Mary Jane Watson saw him get kidnapped and M.J. went after them - now she's missing too.” “What! When?” Peter asked, bolting up from his bed. “Sometime yesterday; Gwen is spastic dude. I'm going to go over there now. I thought we'd go over to Liz's and make sure she's doing alright. You in?” Peter began to curse himself. He should have went right over to Professor Allan's yesterday, like he had intended, but he had felt so wiped out… effects of Tarantula's poison, he assumed. He figured he would rest and start again first thing in the morning. Now it was too late. “Peter? Hey Pete, buddy, you still there?” “Uh, yeah, I'm here. That's a lot of info to take in. I'll meet you over at Liz's in a couple of hours. There are some things I gotta do first.” “Okay, see you over there.” “Hey, Harry?” “Yeah?” “Where did Gwen see Professor Allen get kidnapped at?” “North side of the park, near the Dana Discovery Center… why?” “Just wondered. See ya in a few bro.” The phone went dead and Peter was out of bed, dressed, and out the door in less then ten minutes. He had to get uptown, check out the area, maybe find a clue. It was a long shot, but it was all he had to go on. Hopping from one car roof to the next, he traveled the quickest way possible, until he could get into Manhattan and let his webbing take over. He made it to the north side of Central Park and was about to swing down, check out the area, when he heard the explosion coming from just a few blocks away. He could also hear the screams of panicked people. He froze, not sure what to do, when his Uncle's voice once again echoed that phrase into his head. With a determined chin, he took off towards the explosion, swinging at top speed. He found the smoke and chaos at what appeared to be an old chemical factory. The sign read that it was a subsidiary of The Roxxon Corporation. He scanned the area for any signs of casualties, but it appeared that there were none. Figuring that the fire department could handle any kind of fire, he went to leave, when the side of the building exploded outward and a large man in a green costume came barreling out; he was holding some sort of small metal container. “Well so much for that.” Peter sighed as he hurled himself into the man. He struck him square in the chest, “Hello there, hate to just strike and run like this, but I'm actually in the middle of the something and I really don't have time for a proper introduction.” The blow flung the man into the street where traffic halted. He shook it off and stood up, his tail coming up from behind him. “I've read about you in the paper, you're that Spider guy.” “Man… Spider-Man. And you are?” “You can call me, The Scorpion,” He growled as the tail of his costume fired some kind of blast. His early warning system gave him just enough time to do a back flip, avoiding the blast and landing on the side of a building. “Wish I could say it was nice to meet you, but I'm not really fond of guys who destroy property, steal, and try to kill me. It just doesn't scream B.F.F.” “Leave me alone and you won't get hurt.” Scorpion said as he made a mad dash towards the upper west side. Spider-Man fired his web-shooter and caught the Scorpion's tail, yanking him back with all his strength. The foe went flying through the air and landed on his back. He lost his grip on the package and it flew up in the air. Making a huge leap, Peter grabbed it in mid-air, flipping his body sideways as to land close enough to his new found enemy so that he could strike him. His spider-sense warned him a little too late that the tail was coming around, tripping him and releasing the package from his hand. The Scorpion caught the package with one hand, while striking Peter with his other, sending him high into the air and through a nearby window. He landed hard on a wood floor. Two older women screamed as they jumped up from their kitchen table. “Morning ladies, don't mind me. Sorry about the damage. Coffee smells great, wish I had time to sit a spell and gossip with you, but duty calls.” He leapt back out the window to find that the man called Scorpion was gone. He took to the roofs and caught a glimpse of the green tail as it headed east, back towards mid-town. Spider-Man fired his webbing and followed, rapidly gaining on him. “Oh Mr. Scorpion,” He cried out in a sing song voice. “You weren't really going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?” “Just leave me alone,” The Scorpion screamed as he landed on the roof of the Dakota's, his tail lashing back and firing several blasts, never loosing his footing as he did so. Spider-Man swung hard to the right and then the left, staying on the defensive as he continued the chase. They had past Columbus Circle and were heading into Hell's Kitchen when Peter caught a glimpse from down below. Another battle was going on, he couldn't see one of the parties, but he recognized the other one by the description in the Daily Bugle. Had he really just swung over a battle that involved the mysterious Daredevil? “Geez, this city is becoming crowded with us spandex types,” he muttered to himself as he took a quick look back. Before he could turn back around, he was struck hard in the face. Peter lost his balance and fell onto a rooftop with a thud. He rolled to his right, sensing the blow that was about to come, and barely missed getting his head crushed in by a black boot. He looked up to see Tarantula swinging his other leg around, coming in for another attack. Peter pushed himself up off the roof and into the air. “Not you again! Isn't there anyone normal in this city, anymore? Well… relatively speaking, of course.” “I want to eliminate you very badly,” the villain said in his Spanish accent, “But plans have changed. Our boss has decided that you are invited to attend his game.” “Really,” Peter said as he fired webbing that was easily dodged. “Please inform your employer that I won't be able to attend, I'm in the middle of chasing some tail. Sorry, was that comment a bit to PG-13?” Spidey landed on a different roof, looking for a way to swing around and get behind Tarantula when he felt the blast hit him squarely in the back. “Careful what you ask for, punk,” The Scorpion said as he fired a second blast from tail. This time, Spider-Man was aware, jumping out of the way just in time. His danger sense, however, went off like a five alarm fire and he twisted his body in mid-air, his fist swinging around as he and Tarantula met above the rooftops. Peter's blow struck Tarantula square in the jaw, but not before his foe's boot shot out and the pointed end once again jabbed him in his side. Peter instantly felt the flood of poison go through his body. “Aww come on! Not again!” He cried. As the world began to turn he at least had the satisfaction of knowing he had delivered one good blow to the irritating spider wannabe. Then, as before, the world went dark… *** When he woke up, he found himself chained up against a wall. His head was once again aching and he could still feel the remains of the poison running through his body. He fought hard not to toss his cookies; especially since there was no way to remove his mask, and that was an experience he really didn't want to have. “Ah, our final guest is awake, Sir.” The Chameleon said as he came into view. Spider-Man focused his vision to find that in some kind of stasis tube to the right was Scorpion, and to his left was The Rhino. Standing in front of him was not only Chameleon, but Tarantula as well. “Well, well, the gangs all here,” He muttered, not really feeling as strong as he hoped he sounded. “More than you realize, Spider-Man,” came the Russian voice from the shadows. More lights came on in the opposite corner of the room and he was looking at two a man, a woman, and a young lady. He recognized two out of three. “Allow me to introduce the rest of our guests. This is Professor Gerald Allen, who you've had the opportunity of trying to save once before. The frightened lady here is Ginger Gagan, the wife of my creation, The Scorpion, and the young lady is named Mary Jane Watson. She wandered into this situation, and I didn't have the heart to turn her away.” “Are you kidding me?” Spider-Man asked, in spite of himself. “The Professor, Ginger, and Mary Jane?” “I do not get the reference,” the shadowed man said in annoyance. “Don't worry about it, Skipper, you won't be awake long enough for me to explain it.” Spidey said as he suddenly pulled hard on his chains. The electric current that shot through his body caused him to scream out in pain. “Please don't injure yourself before the game begins. I would like you in peek condition when the hunting begins.” “Hunting?” Peter asked in confusion. “What do you mean, hunting?' The man stepped out of the shadows, a striking figure, pitch black hair slicked back, a mustache and goatee that matched. His upper body was extremely well developed, and he wore a fur lined vest with nothing underneath it. “I am a hunter, Spider-Man, a very wealthy one, at that. I have spent my entire life training and honing my body to hunt and defeat every known species of animal known to man. In fact, I've even hunted men, themselves. But I bore quite easily, you see. So I helped Professor Allan here by funding his project that he thought would help create meta-humans that could help your government in times of crisis. He did a wonderful job, albeit with a few side effects. However, he didn't realize that he was not being government funded, but personally funded by me, for my amusement. The fact that you wandered into the situation was pure luck on my part. Now I'll get to hunt not only a giant human Rhino and Scorpion, but a spider as well.” “What makes you think I'm going to play in your sick little game?” Peter asked, already knowing the answer. “Don't be obtuse. If you don't, these three will die. But don't worry, you have my word. No matter which one of the four of us is left standing, these three will be released unharmed, as long as you play the game and abide by the rules.” “And I can trust you because you've mutated two poor shmucks, kidnapped a bunch of innocent people, and have me chained to the wall? Yeah, that really screams: 'man of his word'.” The dark haired man's eyes flared in anger. “How dare you! My word is gold! I am a gentleman who is bound by his word. In the end, that is all a real man has. You are warned, Spider-man, never question the word of Kraven the Hunter!" NEXT TIME, THE FIRST HUNT BEGINS
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 13:28:42 GMT -5
Amazing Spider-Man Issue #4: "The Deadliest Game, Part 4: Hunters & Prey" Written by Brian Burchette Cover by Roy Flinchum Edited by Charles HoM Spider-Man stood over the unconscious body of The Chameleon before looking up at Professor Allan. The last fifteen minutes were a walking nightmare. Two people had figured out his secret identity; a psychotic shape changer and one of his teachers. Personally, he felt safer with the psychotic shape changer. “I think you've got it wrong… Dr. umm, what's your name again?” It was lame, Peter knew that, but he didn't seem to have a lot to work with, and lying was not something that came that naturally to him. Liz Allan's father gave him a rueful look. “Give it up, Peter. If nothing else, during the battle, you let your Spider-Man voice slip; I recognized it right off the bat.” Clearing his throat, he spoke in his deepest, most gravel sounding voice. “I'm the $#&-damned Spider-Man.” He watched Professor Allan's face give him a sour look and replied with a half-hearted wave. Why bother, he thought to himself. “Any idea why this man wanted to kidnap you,” Spidey asked, desperately trying to change the subject. This time it was the Professor who fidgeted nervously. “No, I… I have no idea.” “Uh, yeah, okay. Well, if you don't mind, I'm taking this Chameleon with me. Maybe I can get some answers from him.” As the young hero turned to go, he was stopped by Allan's voice, reassuring in tone. “Your secret is safe with me, Peter; I promise you.” “No offense, Doc.” He replied, refusing to turn around. “But if you want to play the secret game, it's going to go both ways.” With that, he walked out of the room, leaving Professor Allan to begin pacing, nervously. *** J. Jonah Jameson looked at the blurry photos with disdain. “Is this the best you've got?” He bellowed at Harry Osborn, who flinched at the booming voice. “You can barely even tell that this is Spider-Man! My God, kid, the guys a hero, he deserves better than this if he's going to be on the front page of New York's premier newspaper!” “Well, it was kind of hectic, what with tables flying over my head and all,” Harry tried to explain. “I don't want excuses, I want grade A quality photo's. This belongs on some gossip rag next to a sighting of Big Foot!” “Well, I'm sorry to bother you, then, Mr. Jameson,” Harry said weakly as he went to take the pictures back. Jonah snapped them away, “Hold on there, I didn't say I wasn't going to use them. I'm just not going to pay you very much for them. Not for shoddy work like this.” “But… but…” “One hundred and forty-nine dollars, not a dollar more.” “But… but… these are the only pictures of Spider-Man-- ever!” “That's why I'm buying them! Anyway, aren't you Norman Osborn's kid? What are you worried about money for? Your old man ranks right up there with Hammer, Stark, and that guy who created Microfish.” At the sound of his father's name, Harry bristled, his face growing red. “It's not about the money,” he said heatedly. “It's about doing something I want to do.” Jonah gave him a hard look as he chewed the end of his cigar, “I see. In that case, congratulations, you did it. My secretary will write you a check. By the way, what the hell is this thing that he's fighting?” Harry shrugged, feeling oddly defeated. “They called him The Rhino, I guess. Came crashing through the wall looking for one of our teachers; ended up disappearing after the battle was over.” “Which teacher?” J.J. asked. “Professor Allan,” Harry said as he walked out of the office. Jonah grabbed his intercom and bellowed for Robbie, who was in his office five minutes later. “What is it, J.J.?” He hated asking that question; the answer was never going to be good. “I want Urich to investigate this Professor Allan guy. Something tells me there's a story there, and it's got Spider-Man's name written all over it.” “Well… Jonah, Ben is pretty tied up down in Hells Kitchen right now.” The Publisher through his arms up in disgust, “I forgot about that damned obsession he has with that Daredevil guy. I told him, brooding loner, hanging in the shadows, trying to scare criminals to death, won't sell newspapers. Spider-Man! Flashy costume, witty repartee - he's the hero of the future. Oh never mind, get that new dame down there! What's her name?” “Brant-- Betty Brant, Sir.” “Yeah, her, send her. About time she starts making herself useful around here.” Robbie closed the door behind him, thankful to be out of the office. *** He woke up with a splitting headache, but couldn't figure out if it was because of the punch or the fact that he was webbed up and hanging upside down with all his blood rushing to his head; either way, he felt like crap. “Well, look who woke up,” The one called Spider-Man said. “If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions, and honestly, I have a feeling that you do have to be smarter than a fifth grader to answer these.” “I will tell you nothing!” The Chameleon spat in clipped Russian. “Hey! Say it, don't spray it! Too bad, though. A while ago you were dying to tell me how you figured out my identity.” “Ha! That! That was pure luck on my part. I was posing an average looking kid, monitoring the situation, when The Rhino announced himself. I saw you run into the bathroom and suddenly Spider-Man appeared. That doesn't take a fifth grader to figure out. So I found your hidden cloths, switched identities, hoping to get closer to Professor Allan, in case The Rhino failed, which he did. I knew you couldn't unmask me without unmasking yourself, so I was safe.” “Yeah, great plan, for all the good it did you. So who are you working for, Mr. Ken Doll?” “I work for no one but myself.” Spidey made the sound of a buzzer, “Oh, wrong answer. Sorry, you lose, but we've got some lovely parting gifts in the back. You just admitted that you were waiting for The Rhino to show up, which means somebody is watching Allan. I get this feeling that you're just a lackey in this four ring circus, so I want the name of the ring leader, now!” The Chameleon laughed, “Little man in spider-suit does not scare me. Not only can I mimic people, but I am pretty good at reading them too, and something tells me you are not a torture or kill sort of person.” “So nothing I can do will get you to tell me who you're working for, or why they want Professor Allan?” “Nothing, so go ahead an send me to police, I will be out in less than an hour, but not before I reveal who you are.” Under his mask, Peter was biting his lip. He was in a no win situation; a real life Kobayashi Maru. He also suddenly realized what a geek he was for thinking that. Yet, since he was going down that path, he had to ask himself what Captain Kirk would do in this situation. After a few moments of thinking, he realized that Kirk would probably pound his face in, get his shirt torn open, and bed a green skinned alien woman. Unfortunately, none of those options were available to him… well, maybe the shirt tearing thing, but what good would that do? “Time to let me down, boy,” The Chameleon said. “I'd listen to him if I were you,” came a voice from above the alley where they had been conversing. Spider-Man looked up to see a red and black costumed figure standing above him; a black mask covering three quarters of his face. “Who are you?” Peter asked in surprise. “I'm the Tarantula, and I've been paid a pretty penny to retrieve this loser, so unless you want to die an early death, you'll just walk away now.” “You know,” Peter began while rubbing his eyes through his mask. “How come you wacko's only started coming out of the woodwork as soon as I put this costume on? I might begin to take this personally...” *** “Wow, you guys got the day off? How lucky is that?” Mary Jane said as she sat with her friend Gwen Stacy at the local coffee shop. “Nobody's talking about why, though. Sounds like there was some kind of break in and the police are investigating. Anyway, that's why I called; I figured we could have a girl's day out.” “Well you caught me on a good day,” Mary Jane said as she brushed her red hair back from her face. “I don't have any classes today, and no prospect for any modeling jobs, either. So it looks like a quiet day for me, too.” Gwen gave a wicked grin. “You know, we could call Harry and Peter and all of us do something together. Maybe a movie… or a picnic in the park.” M.J. bristled, “You know, let's just keep today about us girls. I'm not really in the mood for Peter Parker.” “Oh. Things really didn't go well for you two at the Prom, did it?” Gwen asked. “Nope.” M.J. replied and took a sip of her drink. It was a closed subject, and Gwen knew it by the tone of her friend's voice, so instead, she began discussing plans on their day out in the big city. *** That tingly feeling in the back of his neck went off just seconds before Tarantula leapt toward him, and gave Spider-Man only seconds to dive out of the way; leaping up and grabbing a hold of the side of the brick building. “I carry this guy all the way from Queens to Manhattan to have a little private time, and you actually find us? I'm beginning to believe that whole George Orwell thing.” “You imbecile, it was not you that I was following,” Tarantula said as he leapt up, grabbing a hold of the fire escape and pushing himself forward, again barely missing Spidey, who had leapt out of the way. “It is the other one I was looking for.” Spider-Man shot his webbing, grabbing Tarantula by the arm, “You've got a bit of a Spanish accent; makes me wonder if there isn't some kind of U.N. conspiracy going on around here.” “You need to learn when to shut up,” The Tarantula said as he feigned a left, causing Spider-Man to leap right; but then the villain opened up his palm to have what appeared to be webbing coming straight out of his glove. It wrapped itself around Spider-Man's shoulders, pinning him down. “Huh, you've got webbing too. How's that for a surprise. Maybe we could have coffee and talk about where you buy your supplies.” The black masked man smirked, “Mine are not man made. Mine come natural,” He said as he pulled Spider-Man from the far wall and towards him. Peter sailed across the alley, towards his enemy, “Eww, like the human body doesn't have enough fluids coming out of it. Can we say, 'gross to the max'.” Trying desperately to break Tarantula's webbing as he flew across the alleyway, his danger sense began to shriek in his head. He looked up in time to see a spike at the end of the villain's boot, and he was headed right towards it. He moved his hand as much as he could and shot his own webbing, hitting the boot and able to use just enough strength to throw the man off balance. “Very James Bond, there, pal.” Spidey said as they both fell to the ground. As he hit the pavement, Spider-Man was able to roll away, constricting his muscles and breaking free of the webbing that had trapped him. “Don't you ever shut up?” Tarantula snarled as he leapt to his feet. “Only when I'm watching something with Jessica Alba in it.” Peter quipped. The Tarantula said nothing, just grinned and shot more webbing from his palm, upward, and than propelled himself up onto the roof. “Heh, looks like your friend didn't want you that badly,” Peter said turning to The Chameleon, only to find that the webbing had been cut open, and the guy was gone. “Aww nuts!” Spidey said as he shot his webbing and began his pursuit of The Tarantula. *** Dr. Gerald Allan had finished talking to the police, giving them every detail of what had happened, leaving out his discovery, of course. He was surprised to learn from one of the Detectives that this Chameleon person was wanted in over twenty different countries. It was mentioned, Allan noted, because the detective thought it funny that he would come after a High School teacher. The Professor held his nervousness in check. It wasn't that he really knew why the Chameleon was after him, but after yesterday's incident with the Rhino, he had a feeling what it might have to do with, and he wasn't willing to discuss his project with anyone. Not yet, at least. As the police finally left, Professor Allan began to clean up in the lab when his cell phone went off. He noted his daughter's number and answered it. “Hello, Liz.” “Dad!” He heard his daughter's voice and the panic that was coming through the phone. “Dad, help me! He's chasing me; he's trying to get me.” Gerald Allan's heart began to race. “Who? Who's after you?” There was a sudden silence on the phone and then the voice of the Chameleon came on the line. “Don't you mean, who has you, Professor.” He said with a chuckle. “Don't harm her! Please, I'll do whatever you say, just don't harm her!” “Now that's a smart man. Meet me at the Harlem Meer in twenty minutes. You do know where that is, I assume?” “North East corner of Central Park.” “And come alone, Professor, or your precious Liz may end up at the bottom of the lake.” The phone went dead, and Dr. Allan left immediately. *** Peter was swinging his way from the East Village towards mid-town, hot on the trail of the Tarantula, who was moving rapidly away from him. Everything was moving so fast, and Peter felt completely out of control of his life. Two attacks on Liz's father in twenty-four hours. Two people had discovered his secret, possibly even more if the Chameleon went blabbing to his boss. This was not what he had expected when he had decided to do the right thing… to become the man he knew his Uncle Ben wanted him to be. He pushed himself harder, swinging low across the heavy traffic that moving down Broadway. Where was Tarantula going, any way, he wondered. It didn't take him long to find out as he watched the assassin make a sudden turn onto West 34th street; heading straight for 5th Avenue and The Empire State Building. Tarantula landed on the observation deck located on the 86th floor. The tourist and sightseers screamed and began to flee. As the villain was about to leap up towards the next few floors, he was struck from behind as Spider-Man came swinging in, feet first, striking him in the back. “You were in the city and just couldn't resist doing your King Kong impression?” Spidey asked. Tarantula rolled when he hit the ground and came up, only to be struck in the face by a red gloved fist. He staggered back and Spider-Man kept up the assault, hitting him, blow after blow. The assassin fell to his knees as Spider-Man raised his fist one more time, but stopped as he felt a sudden and painful piercing in his right leg. He looked down in time to see the sharp end of Tarantula's boot exiting from his costume. Peter also immediately felt the burning sensation as the poison entered his system. “Wow, what a prick,” Spidey mumbled as he staggered back. “I warned you,” Tarantula hissed as he leapt up and began to climb the side of the building. Peter took a deep breath, fighting the feeling of nausea that was building, and shot his webbing at Tarantula, who dodged it and continued to climb. Spidey let out a curse as he leapt as far as he could, landing just inches below Tarantula. He reached out and grabbed the man's ankle; gripping onto it tightly. He had to end the fight quickly, his heart was beginning to race and he felt his body becoming hot and sweaty. He yanked on the ankle, but his strength was already leaving him. Tarantula, holding onto the brick wall with his clawed gloves, used his other foot and kicked Spider-Man in the head, shaking him loose. He continued his climb upward, and Peter, his vision beginning to blur, had no choice but to climb the wall and chase after him. *** Gwen and Mary Jane had stopped in Central Park to feed the ducks; after spending some time at theGuggenheim Museum. It was a beautiful spring day and they had chosen to walk the rest of the 5th Avenue, turning onto Central Park North when they decided to feed the ducks that swam lazily in the Harlem Meer. “So can I ask you a question?” Gwen said, hesitantly. “Of course, just make sure you want to hear the answer,” Mary Jane replied with a mischievous grin. “Why didn't you and Peter get along, last night? I know that the whole Prom thing was a disaster, and Peter nearly being killed didn't help either, but I get this feeling that there's something you're not telling me.” The smile fell off of M.J.'s face. “Gwen, you've been my friend for a lot of years now, so please trust me when I say, drop it. He's just not into me.” “Did he tell you that?” Gwen asked. “Because it really looked like you two were hitting it off at first; Harry and I could tell that there was some real chemistry there.” “Darling, trust me when I say that lightening did not strike us… or cupid for that matter. To be honest, I think he's into someone else.” Gwen gave her a curious look, “Do you know that for sure, or are you just guessing.” “I'm pretty sure.” “Did he tell you who?” “Liz Allan?” Mary Jane exclaimed. Gwen gasped. “He likes Liz?” “What… oh, no! Over there, isn't that Liz Allan?” She asked as she pointed towards the Dana Discovery Center. Gwen looked across the grass and saw that it was indeed her friend. She grinned and called her name, waving at her. It seemed, however, that Liz could not hear her, or just wasn't acknowledging her. In fact, Gwen thought as she called out again, Liz's face had a rather odd look on it. “I think she's waiting for her dad,” M.J. said as she pointed to Professor Allan, who they observed running towards his daughter. “I feel sorry for them,” Gwen said. “With her mother dying last year, all they have left is each other. I know Mrs. Allan's death hit them both pretty hard. And after that Rhino guy tried to kidnap her father last night, I'm sure it has them both pretty shaken up.” They watched as Professor Allan ran up to his daughter and gave her a hug, holding her tightly, and looking like he was in tears, Mary Jane noted. Then, right before their eyes, they watched Liz pull out some kind of gun and fire point blank into her father. Gwen cried out in surprise and Mary Jane drew in a breath at the site, but before they could react, the scene became even more surreal as Liz's body began to shimmer and suddenly a police officer was standing in her place. He grabbed the body of Dr. Allan before it fell and began to carry him away. “Oh my God!” Gwen exclaimed. “What just happened?!” “I think Liz's dad has just been kidnapped.” M.J. whispered in shock. Gwen was already grabbing her cell phone as she realized for the first time that the area they were in had very little foot traffic going through it. “I've got to call my Dad; he'll be able to help. Wait, where are you going?” She cried out as she watched her red haired friend take off. “I'm going to follow them,” Mary Jane shouted back. “I'll keep in touch with my cell phone. Somebody is going to have to let the police know where they're going.” “Mary Jane, don't,” Gwen cried out, but M.J. continued to disappear into the distance. The phone was suddenly answered on the other end. “Captain Stacy here.” “Dad, it's Gwen! Dad, something horrible has happened… we need your help!” *** The two adversaries had reached the very top of the Empire State Building, both hanging off the spiral, their feet planted on two of many antenna's that were attached to the building. Peter had to end this now, and fast. He didn't know what kind of poison he had been subjected to, or how much longer he had before his body was going to give out, but he had to know what was going on - why this was happening. “No where else to go, pal. You want to tell me why we're up here? And if it's not too much trouble, who exactly are you and the Chameleon working for?” “The fact that you have not succumbed to the poison yet, Spider-Man, is impressive, to say the least. It is a pity that I have to kill you. There is obviously more to you than meets the eye.” “Yeah,” Peter said, “I'm a regular Transformer; now who hired you?” “That, I am afraid, is privileged information. I will tell you why we are here, though.” “Please do.” Spider-Man said. Tarantula grinned. “Because I've always wanted to see what a spider would look like when it falls from one of the tallest building's in the world.” With that his leg shot out and his foot struck Spider-Man square in the chest. It was the last straw, and Peter could hold on no longer as he was shoved away from the building and into the air. As he plummeted to the ground from over fourteen hundred feet in the air, his last thoughts were of his Aunt May and his Uncle Ben. He had let them down… again… TO BE CONCLUDED
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 13:21:40 GMT -5
Previously, in Amazing Spider-Man...
Having accepted a blind date with one Mary Jane Watson, Peter was well on his way to enjoying his Senior Prom, when the party was crashed by The Rhino, who sought revenge on Liz Allan’s father; the scientist who’s experiment on The Rhino had turned horribly wrong and stuck him in some kind of suit that he could not take off!
Spider-Man showed up and was able to save the day, only to discover that there had been one casualty during the battle… Peter Parker!
Oh yeah, and during his dance with Mary Jane, he whispered Gwen’s name, but at the moment that doesn’t seem to be the major problem...Amazing Spider-ManIssue #3: “ The Deadliest Game, Part 3: The Shape of Things to Come” Written by Brian Burchette Cover by Roy Flinchum Edited by David Ross Spider-Man stared at the body of Peter Parker, lying in the ruins of the Hall that had been rented for the Senior Prom, speechless and unable to move at the site of his own lifeless body. His mind was having a hard time wrapping itself around the turn of events. To say that this is not right is the understatement of the decade, Spidey thought to himself as his friends gathered around him. Who the hell is that!As Mary Jane screamed for help, her friend, Gwen Stacey, was the first to react by administering CPR, and then leaning his head back slightly and bringing her lips to Peter’s; beginning mouth to mouth resuscitation. Well now if that doesn’t just top everything! I’m actually making out with Gwen Stacey and I can’t even enjoy it! Oh God, I shouldn’t even be thinking like that! Oh dear, I think this costume is becoming a bit too tight… I better get out of here.“He’s not breathing,” Gwen cried out as she continued the CPR. She turned and saw Spider-Man standing there, staring at them. “Please… please help me,” She begged as tears came streaming down her face. “Umm, sure, what do you want me to do?” “Mary Jane went to get help. If you can just keep giving him mouth to mouth while I continue the CPR.” Peter blinked under his mask. “You’re kidding… right?” “PLEASE! You’re supposed to be a hero, aren’t you?” “Yeah, yeah, of course,” Spider-Man said as his instincts took over and he knelt down beside his own body, working in correlation with Gwen. He had moved his mask up to allow his mouth some freedom, but he couldn’t help but shudder as he began his part of the procedure. This is just too surreal. On the other hand, my outfit is definitely fitting better, he thought. Suddenly the body of Peter Parker began to cough, and the two of them pulled away as this Parker figure rolled on his side, gasping for air. As soon as Peter had come to, the tingling in Spider-Man’s skull went off like fireworks. He stumbled back at the force of it. Whoa! Never felt my Spider-Sense go off like that before; who, or what, is this guy?“Peter, oh thank God,” Gwen cried out and hugged him as Harry came running up. “Pete, buddy, you okay!” He asked, anxiously. “Yeah… yeah… I think so,” Peter Parker said as he stood up. Mary Jane had been watching the scene with a mixture of horror and fascination, but with Peter now breathing again, her attention seemed to drift to the man in the spider mask. “Hi there, Tiger,” she said with a shy smile. “You’re a real hero.” The real Peter realized that he had been standing, watching the scene, while people had been gathering around. It was time for him to, split like a banana, as his Uncle Ben would have said. He nodded to MJ and turned to go, but not before his doppelganger called to him. “Thanks, Spider-Man, for saving my life! If there’s anything I can do for you some day, I’m sure you’ll know where I’ll be.” Spidey turned back and the other Peter gave him a half smirk and a wink. Peter had to get out of there! The whole thing was too unbelievable. He leapt across the growing crowd and headed for the whole in the wall. As he shot his webbing and took off, the last thing he heard was the sound of Liz Allen’s voice: “Hey! What happened to that Rhino guy… he’s gone!” Least of my worries, Peter thought as he swung himself away from the disaster. *** Two hours later, and while J. Jonah Jameson was not a man who slept well to begin with, when he finally did get to sleep, he was never happy to be woken for any reason… other than a front page story. “This better be good,” he growled as he answered the phone in a half daze. He bolted upright as he heard the scene that had happened earlier at the prom. Crazed villain called The Rhino? Spider-Man saves lives and defeats monster of a man?! YES! Front page story, if only they had a… “Photos?! We actually have photos?” He leapt out of bed, pulling the sheets with him and causing his wife to spin across the bed. “Who ever that kid is, get him down to the Bugle now, Robbie! I’ll be there as quick as I can.” Jonah slammed down the phone, stumbling as he tried to untangle his legs from the bed sheets as he grabbed for his pants. “Oh Jonah, do you have to go in now?” His wife asked, desperately trying to pull the bed linen back up onto the bed. “Only if I want to break the story of the century! Spider-Man just fought a guy in a Rhino costume and brought a kid back from the dead, and another boy has pictures of the whole thing! This is going to put the Bugle on the map! It’s going to make my paper the number one circulation in this city!” He buttoned his shirt over his pajama top and through a pair of shoes on. His face was determined and his eyes were blazing with dollar signs. He had made a rushing dash to the bedroom door before he was suddenly stopped by his wife’s raised voice. “J. Jonah Jameson!” The halted abruptly at the entrance to their room, rolled his neck as his left eye twitched for a moment, and then turned back to her with a smile on his face. He walked over, leaned down and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Don’t be up all night, dear.” She told him sternly. “Yes dear,” he replied as he turned away from her, his eye twitching even more, as he ran for the door. *** Spider-Man had followed his friends, and the person claiming to be him, as they made their statements to the Police Officers, before leaving. He also caught a glimpse of Dr. Allan, Liz’s father, as he held on to his daughter, shaking with fear. Why that Rhino guy wanted Dr. Allan is beyond me, and I will find out, but right now I better follow Harry and the others. Whoever this guy is, he obviously knows who I am. The message was far from subtle. Still, who is this guy?Swinging from the trees and rooftops, he followed the limo as it went back to his aunt’s home. They all got out and walked Peter to the door. Spidey hung off the side of the neighbor’s house so he could listen in. “You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital or something, pal?” Harry asked with genuine concern. “No, no, I’ll be alright.” “I hope so, buddy, cause to tell you the truth, not remembering our names at first doesn’t give me a lot of confidence.” “Yes… well… it was quite a blow I received, but if my memory lag gets any worse, I will report to the emergency room immediately. I should be going in though; I don’t want to worry the folks needlessly.” Harry and Gwen shot each other a concerned look. Gwen took the young man’s hand, “Peter… your folks are… well… they passed away a long time ago. I think maybe you should go to the emergency room, now.” The person posing as Peter pulled his hand away quickly. “I know that, you know what I meant.” Spider-Man watched as Harry’s cell-phone went off and he stepped away to take the call. Gwen gave him another concerned look, but nodded. “I guess after all this time; it’s easy for you to think of your Aunt May and your Uncle Ben as your folks. I mean, they did raise you and all. Umm… you do remember what happened to your Uncle Ben, right?” “Of course I do, but now is not the time to talk about it.” Before Gwen could respond, Harry came back to them. “You sure you’re going to be, okay, buddy?” “Yes, I’ll be fine.” “Okay, then we have to roll. That was Mr. Robertson from the Daily Bugle and they want to see the photo’s I took of Spider-Man beating up The Rhino!” Great, the real Peter thought. Now my best friend, who has all the money in the world to begin with, is going to make money off of me. I’m starting to wonder if there is any justice in the world.“Can I have a moment alone with Peter, please?” Mary Jane asked. The two nodded and got back into the limo. Mary Jane turned to her date. “First, I’m glad you’re safe. You really did scare all of us. Second, I’m not going to say a word to Harry or Gwen about what you said on the dance floor. Third…” And with that she hauled off and slapped him across the face. “A gentle reminder that when you are dancing with a beautiful young lady, keep your mouth shut.” For a second Spidey was sure that Peter was going to strike her back, but she had turned and stormed off the porch. Ha! I guess there is justice after all! Still, its not like I didn’t deserve that, Peter thought. He watched the limo drive away and turned his attention back to the faux Peter, who seemed to still be boiling with rage at the strike. Finally he turned his attention to the front door and hesitantly tried the handle. It was, of course, locked. He cursed under his breath and fumbled around in the real Peter’s tux until he found a set of keys. The second key opened the front door, and Spidey watched the guy walk into his house. What do I do now? I can’t go in there as Spider-Man, and going in as a nearly naked Peter Parker, with one Peter Parker already in the house, would be way too much to try and explain to Aunt May; especially since I don’t have an explanation myself. My spider-sense tells me he’s dangerous, but he hasn’t made a move on any of my friends, so I’m guessing that he’s after something. Of course, he obviously knows who I am, so maybe its Aunt May that he wants. Somebody close to me, to draw me out in the open… but if so, why?He leaned back and slumped down against the neighbor’s chimney. Nothing I can do, for now, I guess. I’ll just hide around here until morning, keep an eye on things.*** Aleksie Sytsevich opened his eyes slowly, his head pounding from the blow he had taken, only to find a giant light shining in his face. He tried to move his arms to block the light, but found that they would not move for him. In fact, the every body part he had seemed frozen in place. Even trying to shout did him no good. His eyes moved back and forth until the light was partially blocked by the shadow of man, who’s only distinguishing feature was that his hair seemed perfectly slicked back; other than that, he was nothing more than a shadow in the light. “Ahh, good, you are awake. You are a most fascinating creation, one worthy of my interest. It was pure luck that my associate happened to see your performance tonight. My guess is that you were created by Professor Gerald Allan, were you not?” Aleksie could say nothing, but tried his best to glare at him, hoping the words he was thinking could be read through his eyes. “Do you know that law enforcement officials have already dubbed you, ‘The Rhino’? I find that to be a very fitting name, for myself as well as you. This new hide of yours was extremely hard to penetrate. The poison that courses through your body is only meant to paralyze you, though; so do not worry. You will stay like this until I am ready for you.” The shadow disappeared again and he heard hard healed boots walk across some kind of stone or marble floor; then the door to the room opened and shut. The Rhino was left alone with a building rage that he could do nothing about. *** Just before the sun was to begin to rise, the rain started. Spider-Man looked up from the position he had been sitting for nearly five hours, and sighed. Of course, he wouldn’t have expected anything else. Looking on the bright side, he realized that the clouds would help keep him a bit more concealed. On the down side, he was stuck in the rain. He saw movement from inside his house and made a small leap onto his own roof, where he spun his web and lowered himself, upside down, to peak into one of the kitchen windows. There was Aunt May, preparing breakfast, as she did for him each morning. His heart went into his throat. It wasn’t as if he ever really took this for granted, but watching her now, knowing he wasn’t a part of it, made his realize just how important he was to her, and him to her, as well. If only Uncle Ben were with her… if only he hadn’t… Stop! This isn’t the time or the place. Less than a month in this suit, trying to do what I know Uncle Ben would have wanted me to do, and already I’ve placed Aunt May in the middle of danger. I’ve got to focus on the now… not the past or the what ifs.A few minutes later the fake Peter came walking down slowly, confidently, striding over to the counter, where he grabbed a piece of toast and began to walk away. “What do you think you are doing, mister?” Aunt May said in shock as her nephew headed for the front door. “Leaving,” the fake Peter replied rather coldly. Spidey’s heart stopped for a second as the two of them stared at each other. Surely if anyone realized something was major league wrong, it would be her. What if she questioned him, tried to stop him. He’d have to swing in… there was nothing else he could do. “You don’t just grab a piece of toast and strut out the door without filling me in on your big night… or giving me a kiss goodbye, for that matter.” The imposter’s eyes narrowed for a second, than reluctantly, he walked back towards her. “My night was fine, if not a bit boring. High school girls are rather silly, if you ask me. I’ve got to hurry along to school. I’m hoping to talk to Professor Allan before classes begin.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and walked away from her a second time. “Peter? Peter, are you alright?” She asked. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” He asked as the door; refusing to turn and look at her. “You just don’t seem to be yourself, this morning.” She stated. “Blame it on the rain,” He replied as he let himself out. Thank God for that. Professor Allan… it’s all tied in with him! I’ve got to get to the school before I do. I mean… well… I know what I mean.INTERLUDE: He was a private investigator who loved his job. Mac Gargan was also considered the tops in his field, respected by both local law enforcement officers as well as his occasionally brief encounters with Government Agencies that may or may not actually be on paper, anywhere. It was one of these agencies that his current assignment was for. He had been asked to look into a shell company that had been traced back to Roxxon Oil and a man by the name of Michael Brady. He was the head of Roxxon Chemical Division. The shell company had made billions by cheating mostly elderly out of their well earned dollars. The question was what this Brady character was doing with all this money that was flowing in. Mac had made several quiet inquiries and with the help of what he thought was an ally, had actually found himself inside of Roxxon’s Chemical Division that sat just outside of Harlem. A non-descript building, one that made Gargan even more suspicious. As he quietly made his way down the corridors, checking any room that wasn’t locked, he couldn’t help but feel discouraged. There really was nothing out of the ordinary as far as he could tell. “Disappointed, aren’t you?” Came the slightly Spanish accented voice from behind him. Mac turned and saw a costumed figure standing right in front of him. He went to draw his weapon, but it was easily kicked out of his hand. Mac swung a punch that the costumed figure blocked without any difficulty and then threw his own, landing square on Mac’s jaw. Stunned, but not out, Mac tried to return with another hit of his own, only to find that his enemy had suddenly protracted some kind of long thin blade from his glove. It struck his in the upper thigh as the man ducked Mac’s blow. Mac staggered back, realizing instantly that he had been poisoned. His body shook once; then he fell to the floor, unconscious. “That was too easy,” the figure said as he picked him up and pulled out a small transmitting device from his belt. “Tarantula to base, I’ve got the package and bringing it in.” “Excellent,” came the voice from the other end, “As soon as we have acquired the Professor, we shall use him as our guinea pig.” “Whatever, just as long as Roxxon pays us for getting this guy off their trail, I could care less.” Tarantula slung Mac Gargan over his shoulder and walked out of the building feeling the pride of accomplishment. *** The real Peter Parker was always eager to learn, and in his new role as Spider-Man, he learned that trying to follow someone in daylight, clouds or not, was not an easy task to pull off. More than once he was spotted, but usually by small children or senior citizens. By the time the kids reacted he had gone and the seniors just seemed to stare with their mouths open. As he reached the school, following his double, he saw that Professor Allan had arrived early, as usual. No doubt in the middle of one of his own experiments that the school had allowed him to work on. The rest of the faculty would not start rolling in for another half hour or so. Spider-Man hoped this would be enough time to find out what was going on. He watched himself walk into the building, edging his way across the grounds. Doc Allan’s lab was on the second floor of the east wing, so he quickly made his way up the side of the building; peering into the window. What he saw surprised him. Professor Allan was sitting alone, cursing himself, striking his legs as he rocked back and forth. This was not a good sign, Spidey thought. He had little time to finish the thought when the faux Peter walked into the room, startling Gerald Allan, who jumped up from his chair. “Peter… I… are you… alright? After last night… I didn’t expect you to be here. What I’m trying to say is… is… what can I do for you?” “You can come with me quietly, Professor. My Employer would like to see you. He is very interested in your work… and your new creation.” “Peter, what are you talking about?” “I am not, Peter Parker, Doctor. In fact, if you must know, they call me The Chameleon, and one way or the other, you’re coming with me.” The fake Peter’s face began to change and shift until it appeared as nothing more than a non-descript head; a mannequin, Dr. Allan thought at first. “I’m not going anywhere with you!” The Chameleon pulled out some kind of gun and aimed it at the Professor, “I think you are.” The window blew in at that moment as Spider-Man leapt into the room. “I think the Doctor said he didn’t want to. You’re being awfully pushy for a guy with no face.” The Chameleon grinned, “I should have figured I’d be seeing you again. After all, I’m sure you have many questions; the first being how I knew who you really are, so that I could take over your identity.” Spider-Man fired his web-shooters, the first pulling the gun from the man’s hand, and the second covering up the villains mouth. “I don’t think I need to know that badly… at least not at the moment.” He said as sprung forward and struck the white faced man in the chin, pulling his punch to be on the cautious side. He was glad he did; since the villain seemed to go down with once punch. Trying not to look at Professor Allan at all, he scooped up the unconscious villain and slung him over his shoulder. “Well, alls well that ends well, as Steinbeck said.” “You always were lousy in literature, Peter,” Dr. Allan replied, though hesitantly. Spider-Man turned to face his teacher. “Excuse me? Not understanding what you’re saying Doc?” “I think you do. You know I’m not a stupid man, I heard what I heard. It’s you, isn’t it… Peter?” TO BE CONTINUED
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 13:12:45 GMT -5
Amazing Spider-ManIssue #2: “ The Deadliest Game, Part 2: Save the Last Dance for Me” Written by: Brian Burchette Cover by: Roy Flinchum Edited by: House Of Mystery If somebody had asked Peter Parker what his first reaction was when he got a look at his date for the prom, a blind date too boot, he would have sworn that his eyes had bugged out of their sockets like a Warner Brothers cartoon character. She was a few inches taller than him, long red hair that shined like the sun, and a smile that was just shouting: I want to party!“Face it Tiger, you just hit the jackpot,” she had said with a wink and that smile. Peter smiled back. It was a smile that was one third shock, one third fake, and one third terror. He raised his hand in a half hearted wave, unable (thankfully) to speak at the moment. He did turn; the smiled still glued to his face, and looked at his best friend. “Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?” “Sure pal,” Harry said, slapping him on the back while giving the girls a wink. They stepped away from the girls, who began to whisper to each other. “Harry, its not that I don’t appreciate it, and everything, but I can’t go out with her!” “Why not?” “Why not? Harry! Look at her! She’s gorgeous! I mean, why is she even wanting to go to the prom with… wait a minute… how much did you pay her, Harry?” Harry stepped back in surprise, “Peter! Nothing, I swear! Listen, you need to go to the prom. It’s a once in a life time chance, and you never know, someday you may be kicking yourself with the ‘what if’, thing. And you’re a good looking guy, Pete. Umm, and I mean that in a totally non gay sort of way, so why shouldn’t she want to go with you?” Peter stared at the red head, taking in Harry’s words. “I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen her before. What did you say her name was?” “Mary Jane Watson.” “Well… I’ve got to talk to Aunt May first; make sure it’s alright with her…” Harry flashed his infectious grin, “Cool! It’s settled then.” What am I getting myself into? Peter wondered as they walked back to the two girls. *** His English was very good, but not great. It didn’t help that he was admittedly not the smartest guy in the world. Aleksie Sytsevich was, however, a very large and scary looking man, who prided himself on his body, its muscles, and his power of intimidation. It was what kept him employed, although not in a way that would have made his family proud. Coming from Russia at an early age, Aleksie’s main goal was to make enough money to bring over the rest of his family. His mother and sister had sent him, hoping that he could find a better life for himself, after the death of his father. He quickly learned that he was not intelligent enough for any well paying jobs, other than to be a bully. His size and appearance gained him notoriety rather quickly as he became an enforcer for one of New York’s major crime bosses. The money was good… but it still wasn’t enough. That was why he was standing at the old Marlyn Warehouse in Long Island City, at the western most point of Queens County. He had heard through the rumor mill that a scientist by the name of Gerald Allan was looking for a candidate for an extremely dangerous experiment. But if he survived, it would pay enough money to bring his family to America; with enough left over to buy them a nice place in Rego Park. He walked into the factory to find a tall thin man with rich black hair and wire rimmed spectacles, waiting for him. “I’m glad you came,” Dr. Allan said, bubbling with enthusiasm. “Yeah, well, you said the payoff would be huge.” “And it will be, my large friend. Once we have tested this suit on you, the government will be dying to get their hands on it, and not only will we be rich, but this little high school science teacher will prove once and for all that they had no right to terminate him from Columbia University.” “Yeah, yeah, rough life, gotcha. What do I gotta do?” “I’m going to place you in this tube, where you will be subjected to intensive chemical and radioactive treatment that when completed, should give not only give you super human strength and stamina, but will also increase your speed. Are you ready?” “Sure Doc, lets get this over with.” Aleksie stepped into the large tube that stood at the end of the make-shift laboratory and closed his eyes. All outside sound was muffled as he began to hear a low hum coming from inside the container. He felt several needles pierce his flesh and felt a slight burning sensation as he was injected with liquids. At the same time, a clicking noise began, as if the sound of a camera shutter was going off inside the tube. The Russian man had been in there only ten minutes when he began to feel the burning underneath his skin. At first it was nothing more than an uncomfortable warm sensation that quickly begun to grow into a full throttle burn; finally turning into a searing pain. “STOP!” He shouted. Professor Allan was startled by the sound of pain in the man’s voice and left his station where he was monitoring Aleksie’s vital signs, to look into the tube. He backed away in horror at what he saw. It wasn’t that the man was squirming in pain, but that his skin had changed. He had developed some kind of outer casing. The Doctor ran to his controls and hit the emergency switch, the final mistake in his experiment. There was a massive amount of feedback and the panels in front of him blew up, causing Dr. Allan to be hurled backward. The tube itself exploded as well, but Aleksie remained inside, unconscious. Rising and staggering forward, the once noted Professor at Columbia University looked at the unconscious body before him. Aleksie’s skin was now gray; some kind of polymer had been grafted to his skin, giving it that gray hue. He examined Aleksie’s face and saw that the graph had covered most of that as well, leaving a large, rather sharp looking growth near his forehead. The entire thing gave the Russian the appearance of a… a… rhinoceros. Dr. Gerald Allen backed away slowly. This was not what was supposed to happen. He had to get rid of it, before it woke up. There would be a law suit, or worse… he would seek revenge. He couldn’t let that happen, he was thinking as panic washed over him. He had a wife, a daughter. They could both be in danger. Blinded by the terror that swirled through his mind, he reached for several beakers, breaking them in different locations of the old warehouse. Then he grabbed a match, prayed for his soul, and lit it as he walked out the door. The flames engulfed the old building in seconds. He drove off, sweating profusely, knowing that what he had just done had condemned him for life. What he didn’t stay to witness was Aleksie Sytsevich burst through the raging inferno with no damage to his skin at all. He looked at his arms, his body, and screamed out in rage. Without thinking, he grabbed his own car and picked it up, flinging it into the fire saturated building. He had been mutilated, and someone was going to pay! *** Spider-Man swung down off the Flat Iron building and headed uptown towards Time Square. He hadn’t gone far when he heard the scream of a woman coming from his left. He quickly swung his body around and fired another web-line that took him in the general direction of the cry. As he entered the alley from above, he saw what the ruckus was all about. A woman in her late sixties was being backed into a corner by four young guys, probably no older than he was. Two of them were carrying rather large knives. Spider-Man couldn’t help but notice that the old woman was very similar in appearance to his own Aunt May. “Just hand over the purse, lady, and we won’t hurt ya,” One of the guys with a knife said as he stepped closer. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you to pick on someone your own age?” Startled, the four young men looked up to see a figure in blue and red, a black spider symbol on his chest, standing completely straight up… on the side of building! He was standing there as if he were standing on the ground, looking down on them with his arms crossed. “Who the hell are you?” One gasped. “ What the hell are you?” Another corrected, backing up. “Don’t you read The Daily Bugle? I’m your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, that’s all in caps, by the way.” “Holy $#@%, you’re real!” “I’d like to think so. Let’s say we start by taking away those,” he replied as he fired two web-lines that hit the knives. He yanked them out of the hands of the punks. Then he leapt off the side of the building, doing a double summer-salt before landing between the old lady and the gang. The two with the knives started to run away, but he fires more webbing that wrapped around their feet. They stumbled and fell to the ground. Spidey felt the familiar tingle in the back of his head, it wasn’t particularly strong, but it was sudden and constant. He turned to see the fist coming at the side of his head, a pair of brass knuckles adorning the fist. He moved to the left with lightening speed, then reached out and grabbed the arm as it went by him. He picked the kid up and tossed him against the brick wall, being careful not to throw him too hard. The last guy stood frozen in place, his eyes wide. “What? Suddenly you have nothing to say?” Spider-Man asked as he walked up to him. “How about apologizing to the nice lady.” The young man, who suddenly looked much younger, nodded his head in agreement. “I’m… I’m… sorry lady.” “Awww, isn’t that sweet. Now don’t you feel so much better?” The young boy nodded again, rather vigorously. “Now why don’t you run along while I make sure your friends are all tied up with a pretty little bow before the police get here.” “You’re… you’re… letting me go?” “Yep, how else is the word going to get out that there’s a new guy in town, and he means business. So go, tell all your friends about me. And don’t be afraid to embellish it, alright? Tell them I’m seven or eight feet, with six arms and multiple eyes. The scarier, the better.” The kid stood there, unsure of what to do, until Spider-Man sighed, leaned right into the kids face and shouted, "Boo!". The kid stumbled back and then took off out of the alley. Spidey turned to the older woman. “Are you alright?” “I am now. Thank you so much. I told my husband that you mutants are good people, and this proves it.” “Oh, I’m not a mutant,” He said quickly. “You’re not?” “No… not that there’s anything wrong with that.” “Of course not. Well, thank you again Mr. Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man. I’m going to tell all the ladies at Bunko about you.” She couldn’t see him grinning, but it didn’t matter. “You do that, Ma'am,” and with that he took a huge leap and headed back towards Time Square. He felt good, nope, scratch that, he felt great. That’s my boy.It was his Uncle Ben’s voice that he heard inside his head, and it may have just been his imagination, but that was alright. He believed it would have been what his Uncle would have said. *** The employees of the Daily Bugle was in an unusual amount of panic and disarray as their boss, J. Jonah Jameson had been shouting orders for three days, unhappy with the fact that nobody had gotten the scoop on this mysterious new Spider-Man, and even worse, no pictures had been taken. “What am I paying you people for?!” He shouted, as he stormed through the office, between desks, and leaving a trail of paper that flew off of those desks in his wake. “Where’s Robbie? I need Robbie!” “Right here, Jonah,” Came the calming voice of Robbie Robertson, Jameson’s right hand man and Chief Editor. “The biggest story in years, and not one picture? I need pictures, of this Spider-Man, Robbie. This is going to put the Bugle on the map! A new super-hero in town and I don’t want this story going to the Times like the Fantastic Four did! Do you understand me?” “Of course, Jonah, I’ve got all our top reporters and photographers on top of this. We’ve had a couple of dozen sightings, most in mid-town, the Upper West Side, and a couple near Hell’s Kitchen, but I’m not sure about the sources on those.” “What? Why not?” “The costume sounds different. They said this guy was all in red and had horns on his mask.” Jonah through his arms up in disgust, “Horns?! That’s not him. I have no idea what kind of freak that is, but he’s not important; Spider-man, that’s our story. You tell these people that everything else is on hold until we get the exclusive. Now go!” He then turned abruptly and marched into his office, mumbling about the ridiculousness concept of a guy dressed up like some kind of freakin’ devil. Like that would ever happen. He stopped at his desk, chewing on his cigar, and then picked up the phone, “Get me Ben Urich… now!” *** “Peter Parker! Get your butt out of that bed and get down here! You’re breakfast is getting cold!” May Parker put the stack of pancakes back into the oven, shaking her head in frustration. By the time Peter came bounding down the stairs, she had finished packing his lunch and was sitting at the table with her cup of coffee. The young man smiled sheepishly, “Sorry.” “Sorry?” Aunt May asked with an arched eyebrow. “This is the fourth morning in a row that you’ve been running late for school. What is going on with you, Peter? This is not like you at all.” He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to lie, not to her, not after everything she had been through, but he didn’t dare tell her the truth. It wasn’t that his Aunt was that frail, not for her age. She was, in fact, quite spry and as the kids would say, “with it”; she always had been. But he just wasn’t ready to dump his secret on her… it was just too soon. “I’m sorry, Aunt May,” he said. “It’s just that… I… I…” His Aunt smiled, “It’s a girl, isn’t it?” Although he was thrown off for a moment, he quickly recovered enough to realize that he had the opening he needed. “Well, there is something I wanted to talk to you about. There’s a girl who wants to go to the Senior Prom with me. I’m just not sure if I want to go, for not.” May sat her cup down. “Why wouldn’t you want to go?” Peter couldn’t say anything. He just smiled weakly at her and shrugged, but he saw the light-bulb come on over her head. “Oh my dear, dear, Peter. You don’t want to go because of me, right?” “It’s just that, I’d rather be here. You need me much more than I need, or want, to go to some stupid dance.” “This isn’t some silly dance! This is your Senior Prom. You only get one chance at that. If you didn’t go, Peter, it would make me feel guilty, and you don’t want that, do you?” Peter sat there, trying to figure out how to argue that comment, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that she had pulled out the big guns on this one. She was using “reverse guilt”. It was a sneaky and a low play, and she had done it well. He couldn’t help but admire her for that. When she smiled at him over the top of her coffee cup, her eyes twinkling with self pride, he started to laugh. She broke out in laughter as well, and for a moment, all seemed right with the world. “So who is this lucky young lady?” May asked after they had both regained their composure. “Harry and Gwen set me up with her. Her name is Mary Jane Watson.” May choked on her coffee, startling Peter. “M.J.?” May asked in disbelief. “You know her?!” “Yes, Peter, I do… and so do you. You can’t tell me you’ve forgotten the little red headed girl who lived next door when you were young?” Peter’s jaw dropped in shock, “I knew she looked familiar! She’s you’re friend’s niece! Aww man, wait until I tell Harry.” His Aunt smiled an almost wicked smile. “Hmm, sometimes fate does work in one’s favor, I guess.” Peter blushed and grabbed several pancakes as he grabbed his backpack. “I got to go, Aunt May, or I’ll be late. And don’t worry about money for my tux and all, I’ve got enough saved up to take care of it.” “Oh Peter, you’re not going to… well… we’ll discuss all that later. Just get to school.” She smiled sweetly and raised her cheek for him to kiss it as he went past her and out the back door. She shook her head at the irony of Mary Jane Watson as she collected the dishes and put them in the sink. She turned on the water, pouring a bit of soap in the sink, and her eyes automatically went to her wedding ring. She took a shaky breath and fondled the ring for a moment. “Oh Ben…” She whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. *** Two weeks flew by, and before Peter realized it, the Prom was upon him. The night had started out on a foreboding note when he had picked his tux up that day to find that the jacket was one size to large, causing the sleeves to hang over his hands just slightly. Unfortunately, because he had rented it at the last second, there was nothing he could do. Although he had argued with his Aunt about paying for the tux himself, she wouldn’t allow it, but conceded that he would use his own money to buy the corsage and boutonnière. Peter was the last to be picked up as the limo rolled to a stop in front of his house. Promising his Aunt that he would not be too late, he headed for the car, only to have the limo driver meet him and open the door for him. He stuck his head in and found Harry, Gwen and Mary Jane sitting there, grinning. He couldn’t help but break out into a smile of his own. The ride to the Prom was not as uncomfortable as Peter had thought it would be. Mary Jane was fun, and after some light teasing from her, he actually began to pick on her as well, making things a bit more comfortable for both of them. He didn’t mention the fact that they had known each other many years ago. She probably wouldn’t have remembered, anyway. By the time they had reached the reception hall where their Prom was being held, Peter Parker had realized that he was going to have a good time. *** “Smile,” Harry said as he pulled out his digital camera and snapped a photo of Peter and M.J. getting out of the limo. “Hey, there’s Liz Allan,” Gwen said. “Poor girl, having your father here as a chaperone must really stink.” “I don’t see Flash,” Harry mused. “Maybe he’s home with dysentery,” Peter said hopefully, until he saw the jock come out of the coat room, with his usual swagger. “So much for that idea.” “Professor Allan doesn’t look well,” Gwen commented as they headed towards an empty table. “His daughter is dating the school’s number one jerk; I’d be feeling pretty sick myself.” Harry scoffed. The group laughed as they sat down, taking in the decorations, the tuxes and formals that the friends they had grown up with wore, making the entire evening a bit surreal. They had been children when they had walked into the halls of their high school for the first time, but now, they were walking out as young adults. The D.J. began to play Sonic Youth’s cover of “Superstar” and Peter and M.J. watched as Harry and Gwen got up to dance. The two of them looked at each other, but Peter looked away quickly. “Oh come on, Tiger, ask me; I promise I’ll say yes.” “Why do you keep calling me Tiger?” Peter asked, realizing that he found the nickname a bit annoying. Mary Jane grinned mischievously, “Cause I’m betting underneath that meek guy is a real tiger, just waiting to come out.” Peter couldn’t help but laugh at the silliness of that statement. “Well, I doubt it, but I’d be happy to dance with you.” M.J. smiled as Peter stood up and led her to the dance floor. They drew in close, and the smell of the red head’s perfume was intoxicating. He couldn’t help but look around, proud when other couple’s would look his way, whispering in shock that Peter Parker was at the Prom with such a gorgeous girl. He closed his eyes and could see them, dancing through the crowd. He was twirling her, showing her off. He brought her back to him, dipping her, her golden blond hair shining in the soft light. “Oh Peter,” M.J. sighed. “Oh Gwen,” Peter replied, his eyes shooting open as soon as the words left his mouth. What the heck was that about?! M.J. pulled away. Her face a mixture of shock and something he couldn’t place. “I mean… I…” That was when the wall nearest them exploded in, causing them, and many others, to fly across the room. A huge man, resembling a large rhino, came barreling into the party. “Where are you, Allan?!” The Rhino bellowed. *** Peter had been flung into the far wall, and fell to the ground hard. Chaos ensued as the people who hadn’t been in the blast range, began to run in a panic, screaming as they trampled over each other to get out. Looking around, he saw M.J. lying next to him. He checked for a pulse, relieved to find that it was steady. He didn’t see Harry or Gwen, anywhere, but whatever that thing was, it was causing mass hysteria. He had to do something, fast! Why he had decided to wear his costume under his tux had been beyond him, at the time. It had just felt right, like a second skin. Now he was thankful that he had trusted his instincts. He saw a door leading to the men’s room and head towards it. The tingle at the back of his neck came quickly and powerful, and he dove to the ground just as a chunk of concrete flew past him. He made it to the bathroom, making sure no one else was in there, and shed his already tattered tux. Pulling his mask from his pocket, he pulled it over his face. Whoever that sideshow was, he was about to learn not to mess with Spider-Man at his own Prom! *** The Rhino was throwing concrete and tables everywhere, high school seniors were scrambling to get out of his way, and standing in the midst of the chaos, shock on his face, was Professor Gerald Allan. “Dad, what’s going on?” Liz cried out as she cradled the unconscious body of her boyfriend, Flash Thompson. “Dad?” The Rhino said, a sneer crossing his face. “Now that gives me an idea.” “Don’t touch her!” The Professor screamed, finally coming out of his trance. The Rhino said nothing, but began to run, the building shaking under his feet as he barreled towards the young woman. “This school doesn’t appreciate party crasher’s, ugly,” came Spider-Man’s voice as the hero sent his body in direct contact with Rhino’s face. He had hoped that his enhanced strength would at least stun the guy; instead, they both crashed into each other and both flew back, like two magnets that had repelled each other. Spider-Man hit the far wall with a grunt. That hurt. He shook the stars from his eyes and looked up in time to see The Rhino making another run for Professor Allan. He shot his webbing, hitting The Rhino at his feet. He pulled hard, hoping to pull his legs out from under him. Instead, he felt himself be hurtled forward as Rhino dragged him across the floor. “Well this is not going as well as I had planned,” Spidey said, as his costume became shredded from the debris on the floor. He looked up to see that The Rhino had almost reached his goal, his fist out in front of him. If the madman connected with even one punch, Peter knew it was all over for Liz’s father. “NO!!!” He screamed as he fired his web-shooter again, connecting with the raised fist and baring down with all his strength. His muscles felt as though they were going to rip out of his skin, but still he held firm, biting his lip so not to cry out in pain. The Rhino screamed in rage as he was unable to land his blow. The webbing had held, and the villain was thrown off balance when he was stopped. One shot, Peter thought to himself. He had only one shot. If he didn’t have it in him, he would fail. As The Rhino tried to get his balance back, he turned to see the red gloved fist flying at his face. Spider-Man had braced himself, using every ounce of strength he had left, and throwing the most powerful punch he could muster. He struck Rhino full in the face, the blow caused the windows of the hall to blow out, and The Rhino stood… swayed… and fell over, unconscious. Spidey fell to his knees, exhausted, bloody, and trying to figure out how to get out of the room without people seeing him. That was when he heard the scream for help. He recognized the voice… M.J.! He turned to see her hovering over a body, her friend Gwen Stacy next to her. They were both crying hysterically. As he got up and staggered towards them, Mary Jane looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Get help! Get an ambulance! He’s dead. Oh God, he’s dead!” Spider-Man looked down at the body, knowing who he was going to see, his heart already breaking. But when he looked into the face of the body, his hidden eyes grew wide. “That can’t be…” “Please,” Gwen Stacy said, looking up at the man in the shredded suit. His name’s Peter Parker, and he’s dead!” TO BE CONTINUED
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 12:59:41 GMT -5
Amazing Spider-ManIssue #1: “ The Deadliest Game, Part 1: The End of the Beginning” Written by Brian Burchette Cover by Roy Flinchum Edited by Charles HoM Peter Parker lifted his head up as the minister delivered the eulogy and felt the warmth of the sun on his face. Spring hadn’t officially arrived yet, but it is the first time he had truly felt the heat from the giant star in many months. It had been a very cold and long winter on so many levels. Why Uncle Ben? Why didn’t he stop the robber when he had a chance? He was stupid- cocky, arrogant, and stupid. That spider that bit him gave him more than the powers of an arachnid. It had given him the personality of Flash Thompson, and now one of the people he loved so dearly had paid the ultimate price for it. He felt the thin, frail arm of his Aunt May entwine in his and he clasped her hand gently, feeling it shake underneath his. There was no way to ever make this up to her, or to his Uncle, for that matter. It was a small gathering, for they had no family and very few friends. May’s good friend, and neighbor, Anna Watson, stood to May’s left, supporting her other arm. How his Aunt May was holding up was beyond him. After the burial, they walked back to the car, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Peter wanted to say something, to tell his Aunt the truth, but he couldn’t. She had been through enough at this point, and trying to explain the events that had brought them to this point was not in the cards. The only thing he knew for sure was that his days as a wrestler were over. It was obvious what his Uncle was trying to tell him right before he died. The words would haunt him for the rest of his life. No, his wrestling career might be finished, but they would be replaced with life devoted to saving those who needed protection. He would still call himself Spider-Man, but now he would help the innocent and make sure that what happened to his Uncle Ben, never happened to anyone else. His Uncle had been right: With great power, came great responsibility!*** “Well look at old four eyes!” Flash Thompson called from the high school hallway, two weeks later. He was standing next to a young, short haired, blond woman, who seemed embarrassed at the mean spirited comment. “Flash, stop,” she whispered. “Aw, come on Liz, ol’ four eyes can take it. He’s probably so wrapped up in some kind of science problem that he don’t even hear me.” Peter kept on walking, staring straight ahead and hoping to pass by without an incident. He was not in the mood for the jock, or his nasty disposition. He just wanted to get to his last class and get it over with. He had to get home, back to Aunt May. As he walked past his nemesis he felt that familiar tingle in the back of his head that seemed to warn him as some kind of danger was about to happen. His eyes moved back and forth, looking for the danger, and at the last second he saw Flash’s leg move out in front of him, aiming to trip him up. He had to do it, Peter thought to himself, even though he knew he could have avoided that foot with ease. Instead, he forced himself to let his legs get entangled in the foot and fall forward, causing his books to go flying as he tried to catch himself. He did a half hearted attempt, allowing himself to strike the floor much harder than he really wanted too. Flash Thompson burst out laughing while his girlfriend, Liz Allen, looked away in shame. “Big dumb jock picks on guy half his size, proving once and for all that he’s nothing more than a pile of dog turds,” came the angry voice from behind them all. Peter turned to see his only friend, Harry Osborn, heading down the hall, his hands clenched into fists. Right behind him was his on again, off again, girlfriend, Gwen Stacy. The sight of her always made Peter feel a bit weak. Harry always got the most beautiful girls. “You stay out of this,” Flash said. However, the football star stopped moving towards Peter, and instead walked away, glaring at Harry. After Flash had rounded the corner, Harry and Gwen went up to him, helping him up and collecting his books. “You okay, buddy?” Harry asked with genuine concern in his voice. “Yeah, thanks Harry. Could this school have a bigger jerk?” Gwen gave him a small hug. “Don’t worry about him; you’ve always got Harry to watch your back.” Her smile always blinded him; made him feel like he was the only person in the room, heck, in the entire world. He gave a little smile back, pushing away the thoughts that were running through his mind. She was his best friend’s girl; he was ashamed of himself. “Gwen’s right, pal” Harry said as he slapped Peter on the back. “I’ll always be watching out for you. You’re like the little brother I never had.” “Yeah, Harry, same here; like a brother I never had. I, umm, I got to get to class,” he said and hurried away. “What was that about?” Gwen asked, stunned at the abrupt end to the conversation. Harry frowned. “Family. I mentioned family. I am so stupid.” Gwen smiled and gave him a firm hug. “No, you’re not. You are the most caring, thoughtful man I’ve ever met. Peter is lucky to have you as his best friend. It’s just going to be hard for him, for a while.” *** The moon was bright, casting its radiant white light down onto the buildings in Manhattan. It gave them an almost unnatural look, as if the skyscrapers, themselves, were glowing. At the intersection of forty-second street and Lexington, on the East Side of the city, stood the Big Apple’s third tallest building: The Chrysler Building. Approximately one thousand feet up, perched on the head of a metal eagle that jutted out from the building, crouched Spider-Man. He was silhouetted not only by the moon, but the lights of the building that glowed white behind him. He stared out at the skyline that lay before him. The twinkling lights of the cars down below, like a mirror image of the stars that twinkled above him. The idea that he was over one thousand feet up, his feet stuck to the metal frame of the building was overwhelming, and exhilarating. He felt as though he was on top of the world. His eyes scanned the concrete jungle below him. He was shaking and wasn’t sure why. Part of it, admittedly, was that he was still getting used to his powers, and the fact that he was crouched on the tip of New York City’s third largest building was still unnerving, to say the least. That wasn’t all of it, though. He was in the city tonight to start his job… no, his duty… his responsibility. A picture of Uncle Ben’s face seemed to appear before him, in his mind, and that’s all it took to send him forward into his destiny. He let out a whoop and leapt off the side, his arms stretching out to the sides as if he were an Olympic swimmer, taking his final dive. He had practiced this move at much lower heights, and felt he was ready to take the big plunge. As he began to build momentum, his body hurling towards the cement below him, he wondered if possibly he was really ready after all. What if his webbing decided not to work at that moment? Would May ever forgive him for dressing up in a blue and red costume just so he could plummet to his death? Of course the logical answer, he realized, was that he should have asked those questions before he jumped off the skyscraper. It was kind of a moot point now. He spied the flagpole on the building across the street, took a deep breath, and fired his webbing. It left the cartridge on his wrist and hit solidly in the middle of the pole. He let out a cry of joy as he swung away from the Chrysler Building and down Lexington Avenue. Peter reached out with his left hand and fired more webbing, one after the other, traveling at a rapid pace above the street and towards the Upper East Side. Peter hit the side of two buildings as he tried his best to swing around a corner and into an alley. He let out a grunt, feeling a small pain shoot up his left arm. He was beginning to wonder if he perhaps he should have done a bit more practicing when he heard the woman’s scream fills the night air, cutting through the sounds of the street traffic below. Spider-Man looked up in time to see figures on a penthouse balcony. There seemed to be some kind of scuffle taking place. He swung to the side of the building and made his way up, crawling rapidly with all four appendages as voice began to drift down to greet him. “You’re going to pay, Jameson! You hear me! I’m tired of your kind thinking you can have it all by stepping on the rest of us. Here’s your headline for tomorrow: Local Publisher Takes Flying Leap Off of Penthouse.” “Please, please let him go!” The woman’s voice again. She was pleading, desperation pouring from every word. “Kiss your husband goodbye, Mrs. Jameson,” the angry man shouted and then there was another piercing scream. Spider-Man looked up in time to see a body hurtling towards him. It was a man in his mid to late forties; his flat top hair cut already graying. The man looked vaguely familiar, though at the moment his face was contorted into panic as he was heading face first towards a very abrupt ending. Peter pushed himself off the building, arching his back as he did so and for a moment he looked again like a diver, suspended in mid-air, as he maneuvered his body into a free fall. His timing was perfect as he grabbed the man with one arm, wrapping it around his waist, while firing a web line with the other, snagging the corner of a building. “Don’t worry Mister, I’ve got you.” He said as he swung them around and back towards the penthouse. “You’ve got me?!” The man bellowed with noticeable cigar breath. “Who’s got you?!” “Tell me you didn’t just say that.” He brought them back up onto the terrace where the woman stood sobbing. It was cut off when she saw the red and blue hero drop down with her husband in one arm. “Oh Jonah, I thought I had lost you.” As she went to embrace him, he moved to the right and she grabbed at air as Jonah Jameson walked up to the young man who had just saved his life. “Who the hell are you?” “No need to fear, Sir. I’m as friendly as they come. My name is Spider-Man and I just happened to be in the neighborhood. What happened to the guy who tried to kill you?” “He ran out as soon as he threw my husband over the balcony,” Joan Jameson said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I might be able to still catch him. Who was he, what was his name?” J.J. waved his hand in dismissal, “Just some guy who thinks he’s a photographer; not important. You! You’re important! Spider-Man, eh? Wait! Don’t move a muscle; I need to get a picture of this. Just let me get my camera. Damn, there’s never a photographer around when you need one.” As Jameson ran into his penthouse to retrieve his camera, his wife walked up to Spider-Man. “Thank you. Thank you for saving his life.” Peter was getting nervous. He wasn’t in it for the adulation; he just wanted to do the right thing. He nodded his head slightly. “Not a problem. I was just hanging around, anyway.” He gave her a small wave of the hand and jumped off the balcony, catching the side of a building with his webbing and swinging away. Jameson came back out, panting at the exertion. “Where did he go?” His wife pointed towards mid-town Manhattan. She continued to stare down the street while her husband swore like a sailor and took out his anger on the now crushed camera. *** “Hey Peter!” Peter looked around the hall of the school, looking to see where the voice was coming from. He recognized it, but didn’t know from what direction he was being called. “Up here, goofball,” Harry Osborn shouted from the second floor stairwell. “Boy it’s true what they say about New Yorkers, we never look up.” Peter grinned as he walked up the steps to join his friend. “What’s up, Harry?” Harry pulled a copy of the Daily Bugle from his backpack and shoved it at his friend. “Looks like the Fantastic Four have some competition.” The headline read: A New Hero in Town? Peter skimmed the article. The story told the tale of how J. Jonah Jameson, Publisher of the Daily Bugle, had been fighting off a would be intruder who had gotten the drop on him, only because Jameson’s wife had distracted him. Jonah had been thrown off his balcony when suddenly he was rescued by a costumed figure in red and blue, with a spider insignia sewn onto his chest. After putting the Publisher and Editor in Chief down, he announced that he was “The Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man” and swung off into the darkness again. “'The Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man'?” Peter muttered to himself. “Yeah, what a dorky thing to say; anyway, read down at the bottom.” Peter read the last paragraph. The Bugle would pay top dollar for any photos of this mysterious new hero. “I could make me some extra dough, if this guy is legit and I could find him,” Harry said. “And if you’d show me how to take photographs,” he also conceded. “Sounds like a bunch of malarkey if you ask me,” Peter said. “Anyway, what do you need extra money for; your father is one of the richest men in the world. Which still makes me wonder how you ended up in a public school to begin with.” Harry’s face turned as read as his hair as he took the paper back. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about that, and who says malarkey anymore, anyway?” This time it was Peter who blushed; my Uncle Ben did, he thought to himself. “Well, I don’t mind showing you, I guess. It’s really not that hard. You just point the camera and shoot.” “I’ve done that, but none of my shots ever come out as good as yours do.” “Hi Harry, hi Peter,” Gwen Stacy shouted as she ran up to them, bumping into several classmates. “There’s my girl,” Harry said grinning. “You’re looking especially beautiful this morning.” “Oh stop it; I already said I’d go to the Prom with you. Hey, Peter, are you going with us to the Prom. Harry’s dad is letting us take his private limo.” For the second time in less than a minute, Peter’s face grew red. “I don’t think so. I really don’t want to leave Aunt May alone for that long. She’s not doing real well.” Gwen touched his arm and for a second he got goose bumps from her warm touch, “Oh Peter, I’m so sorry. If there’s anything we can do to help.” “Umm, thanks… We’ll be, umm, fine. I’ve go to run before I’m late for Chem. Catch you both later.” As Peter hurried away from them Harry turned to his girl, “I don’t think Peter’s problem is leaving his Aunt. I don’t think Peter has a date.” “Really? Well if that’s the problem, we can fix that.” Gwen smiled and her eyes twinkled mischievously. Harry chuckled. “I know what you’re thinking, Miss Matchmaker… and count me in.” *** The final bell rang and Peter Parker made his way out of the school and to his bus. On the ride back to his home, his mind couldn’t help but replay the moment that changed his life forever. It wasn’t the spider bite, not really. It was allowing the robber to run past him and escape. All because he was angry for being cheated out of his share of the wrestling money that he deserved. He placed his head on the dirty window as he watched the rows of houses pass him by. He heard the kids around him talking and laughing, enjoying life; enjoying the last few weeks of school. Peter couldn’t feel any of that excitement. All he felt was loss and pain –sorrow and guilt for what had happened. He wondered if he would ever be happy again… *** The Mustang convertible swung around the street corner as Harry Osborn grinned at his girl in the passenger seat. She was beautiful, and all his. He couldn’t have felt better about life at that moment. The fact that his girl, Gwen, had a friend who had agreed to meet Peter, possibly go to the Prom with him, was icing on the cake of this fantastic day. “So what is this Peter like, anyway,” the girl asked from the back seat. Gwen turned to her friend. “He’s adorable, but really very shy. He’s extremely smart, too.” “Oh great, you’re setting me up with a nerd,” the girl said. “No!” “Absolutely not,” Harry chimed in. “Anyway, I think the PC phrase now is geek.” Gwen slapped her boyfriend in the arm. “Harry, that’s not nice! Anyway, Peter is not a geek, he’s just… He’s… He’s Peter.” The car pulled up alongside the curb in front of the Parker residence. Harry saw from his rear view mirror that Peter’s bus was coming up the street behind them. “Wait a minute, this looks familiar,” the passenger in the back said. The bus pulled up, and four kids got out, Peter being one of them. Harry jumped out of his car. “Hey Peter! Pete! Wait up; I got someone I want you to meet.” “ We have someone we want you to meet,” Gwen chided with a grin. “Yeah, sorry.” Peter turned and looked at his two friends, and the red headed young lady who was standing behind them, leaning up against Harry’s car. She looks familiar, Peter thought for a second, trying to remember where he had seen her before. Harry broke his train of thought, “Peter, Gwen and I would like you to meet Mary Jane Watson. She’s agreed to go to the Prom with you!” “Uhhh… WHAT?!” The grin on Harry’s face grew exponentially, “I knew you’d be surprised.” “But… but… I told you I wasn’t going to the Prom.” Mary Jane Watson came forward slowly, a smile of her own crossing her face. “Of course you are. You need a date and I’m always up for a good party. And let’s face it, Tiger, you just hit the jackpot.” TO BE CONTINUED
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 12:43:00 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 12:42:56 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 12:42:52 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 12:42:48 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 12:42:43 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 12:08:27 GMT -5
The Invincible Iron ManIssue 4: “Minus Human”; Part One: “ The Fragile” Written by Charles HoM Cover by Craig Cermak Edited by Brian Burchette STARK IRON WORKS: “We’ve been tracking seismic disturbances over the area in which the Hulk manifestation last took place and we think we’ve got a pattern--” “Wait, wait, how do you know where the Hulk last manifested?” “Sir, Mr Stark, please. Have you not heard of the internet?” “ In-Ter-Net? Me am not fam-u-lar.” “Ah, uh, well, this is the age of information, and like, nothing is secret for too long, and I found this:” The scientist sitting in front of Tony Stark pulled up a screen with fuzzy images of a green behemoth smashing through large machinery. “This is what we get now. We see footage of soldiers under the worst conditions imaginable from Iraq, and wee monsters growing out of the New Mexico desert. All from a cell phone, you know?” “New Mexico? How do we know this? I don’t see any signs telling us this.” “Well it took some time, but I was able to figure out from those mountains in the background you can see, and a whole lot of other things. All in all, I was able to apply this raw information and figure out where in the world it’s taking place. Now, taking that into consideration, that the last Hulk manifestation was at a supposedly closed military base in New Mexico, I was able to discern the seismic tremors around that area lead to the small town of Villalobos.” The man pointed at the screen and the satellite footage of a police cordon. “Something burst through the wall of that motel, and leapt-- you won’t believe the footage-- thirty miles back into the desert.” He pulled more footage up on screen, showing a mountain range shake. “And it landed here, and threw a tantrum.” The mountains went from one frame being perfectly intact, to the second being strewn with rubble. “The Hulk, apparently a modern day urban legend, is in fact a military complex destroying, mountain crushing mean sonofabitch.” “Well,” started Stark, rubbing his chin, “That’s intimidating.” The scientist pulled up a satellite image capture of the Hulk, howling at the sky. “You think?” Stark took a breath. The Hulk was an unstoppable engine of destruction. He had read Bruce Banner’s notes. He’d memorised them. His back molars ground together as he thought about what he was about to do. He sighed, and looked down at the scientist in front of him. “I could fire you, you know.” LATER: He flew. Quinjet Zero was quick, sure, but the Iron Man armour made air-travel effortless, and it was too much effort to go all the way to the air field, roll it out, get the pilot… He was headed to the coast, to his workshop. He needed to concentrate. He needed to work.. He had just the thing. He needed firepower. He needed something that could stand up to the Hulk. His current armour was good, sure, but it wasn’t what it could be. He had spent months barricaded into his mansion, tinkering with armours, and he knew what he needed. He had work to do. <<<Home link active. Awaiting further instruction :>>> <Workshop: all systems active, Centurion systems brought to forefront.> <<<Centurion systems active>>> “Let’s do this…” he swooped down into the ocean, heading toward the underground entrance to his home. He had work to do. STARK ENTERPRISES: “Where’s Tony, Hap?” Pepper entered the office where Happy Hogan was reading the last Harry Potter novel, and darted her eyes about, looking in every nook and cranny of the large room. “It’s important. Really. Really important.” “He’s headed back to his coastal retreat, love.” He folded the top right corner of the page he was reading, and closed the book. “He told us not to wait up, but the scientists are still buzzing away down in the labs. He’s got biologists working on Hulk anti-serum, gamma sensors, and he’s having the schematics sent directly to the node at the mansion.” “What’s he doing with all that?” She shook her head. “No matter, doesn’t matter, I have a lead on the technology thefts, and Tony is not going to like what I just found out was stolen.” Happy looked at her. She was terrified. She was shaking. “What? What is it? Pep, what’s happened?” “I just… I just need to talk to Tony, alright?” “Apparently, Mr Stark is indisposed at the moment.” Happy and Pepper turned and looked at the window, where a man was leaning, smoking a cigar that had just beginning to stink up the room. “Shame.” “Who the hell are you?” shouted Happy, moving in front of his fiancée, “and what the hell are you doing in this office?!” The man chuckled. “I love it when they ask that question.” HAMMER INDUSTRIES: “A war is planned in phases. Phase one, declaration of intent. ‘I intend to break Tony Stark.’ ‘I intend to break his empire apart and collect the entire piece into my loving bosom and make everything alright again.’ But with Howard Stark’s son, it’s going to be different. I want everything. That suit of armour he’s got some dupe flying about in? I want that. His empire, yes, I want that too, but that armour. Think of the military applications, won’t you, Sandhurst?” “Oh, I am sir, I am.” Professor Sandhurst smiled, his broken, crooked teeth contorting about his lips as they writhed about. “So what is phase two?” Hammer looked at the checklist he had typed off and printed earlier. “We take him apart. Remove him from his power base. Take away his supporters. His allies. I entrust you with that task, Sandhurst. Do you have your toys?” Sandhurst tapped his gauntlet, the hidden compartment buzzing open and revealing a series of circular devices. “I do indeed, sir. Who do you wish to be brought into the fold, as it were?” “The lackey. Bring me the lackey. Bring me the lackey and some rusty tools. Let’s send a message.” STARK IRON WORKS: “How’s it going?” Nick Lewis looked up from his own work as Brian Nelson approached holding an USB. “What were you and Stark talking about earlier?” “Ah, tracking that thing. Tracking the Hulk. I showed him the internet stuff and the seismographs. Now I’ve created a tracking programming combining the seismic readings and a heavy duty radiation detector calibrated specifically to gamma rays. It’s pretty snazzy, sending it over now.” “I wonder what he’s doing with all this stuff.” “Incorporating into his Iron Man armour, I’d say.” “Would you now, Kevin?” The red haired man who was fiddling with what appeared to be a gauntlet taken from the Iron Man suit grinned. “Yeah, I would.” “O’Brien, no one cares what you think.” The three men laughed, and Brian looked at what Kevin was working on. “What’s that?” “I’m figuring out how best to mount something on his Iron Man armour. This isn’t the real deal, but I was able to mock it up after looking at some video footage. That is a fine piece of machinery, don’t you think?” “What you trying to mount to it, man?” Kevin smiled. “Stun ray. Concussion device that renders those exposed unconscious. I have that designed, but it’s just incorporating that into the armour.” “I wasn’t aware that Stark was looking for additions to that thing. It’s friggin’ perfection…” “He’s not. But we won’t get anywhere just watching his bodyguard fly high above us. We need to aspire to that, remember?” “So…?” “So I might build my own armour.” He grinned, tapped his temple, and turned away. 10880 MALIBU POINT, TONY STARK'S COASTAL RETREAT: It was just as he had left it. The suit was lacking a lot, but now he knew how to properly construct it, as he had his gold and red armour, it wouldn’t take him at all long to properly work on it. The first suit was a trial and error process, but his photographic memory, enhanced by the nano-cells he had injected himself with; it would be a few hours. The gold and amour suit, whilst effective, whilst able to fly into the high atmosphere without popping him like a balloon from the inside out, wouldn’t stand a chance against the Hulk. He needed more power… more protection. “Wait…” He looked around, ideas sparking in his head. He pulled out a half constructed motherboard, and looked at it for a moment. “This… This could do… But… Too big…” He was lost in his head. This was how it was when the ideas came to him. He didn’t need to think about the outside, only the inside, only on the project he had in front of him. He needed to process more power more efficiently. His current suit, whilst effective, whilst effective… He went to work, micro-lasers in hand. STARK ENTERPRISES: “Don’t make me repeat myself man! Who the hell--” “Alright, alright,” the cigar-chomping put up both his hands. “I’m an old friend of Tony’s. M’names Nick Fury, you might have heard of me?” Pepper’s eyes opened wide. “Director of SHIELD?!” “The one and only. Well. Actually. Thinking about that, I’m the one, but not the only. LMDs are handy, if you know what I’m saying…” Happy blinked. “I have no idea what you’re saying.” “Right, right, anyway, Ms Potts,” he stepped forward, jabbing out his cigar on his gloved hand, and then pocketing it. “I know you’ve been investigating the thefts from Stark Enterprises’ cold storage warehouses. So have we. Not for long, but it didn’t take us long to see what had been removed from the premises.” “You know it was taken?” “Yes. I do.” “Know what? Stop talking in riddles!” Pepper turned to her fiancé. “A prototype black hole bomb!” “Prototype? I know that Tony had one that was controlled, but… prototype?” “Tony Stark is a bit of a tech-head, and an absent minded one at that. He build hundreds of weapons before packing it in because of the… Accident.” Fury tapped his chest. “if you know what I mean.” “Yeah, I guess, so…” “Whoever has been swiping technology from Stark has in their hands a weapon that, when activated, theoretically, bend time and space and gravity together and cause the world to eat itself up. We’d cease to exist in moments, dragged into this artificially created blackhole.” “But the one that Stark used…” “Had the forcefield refractors built in, meaning it bent inside on itself, like a sphere,” Pepper shook her head. “This prototype, once activated, would keep folding outward, until it reached critical mass, and it would just… Exist. The solar system could die.” “Ah.” “Yeah,” nodded Fury, pulling the cigar out of his pocket and relighting it with a match. “ Ah.” 10880 MALIBU POINT, TONY STARK'S COASTAL RETREAT: The circuit was tiny. The suit was coming together, machines working on remote control, constantly flitting over the suit and connecting technology to the appropriate position. He was running the machines in the back of his head, different parts of his brain working different parts of the workshop. His nose was bleeding. He ignored it. He approached the chest plate of the suit and opened the tiny compartment that had yet to be sealed shut. Behind the amplification lense, where the diamond centred the weaponry systems, was an empty void waiting to be filled. He inserted the chip, and then everything began to buzz. He stepped back, the compartment was sealed shut, and he nodded slowly. It was perfect. Just in time? The wrist on the armour buzzed, and he hacked into it with his head. A computerised voice echoed in his head. <<<Gamma signature registered: Tracking.>>> “Remind me to promote Brian Nelson. Or pay him more. Yes. Pay him more. That’ll do.” He smiled and then wiped the blood from his nose. “Ok. I can do this.” He pulled off his shirt, revealing the small glowing circle of metal that seemed to be part of his chest. It kept his heart pumping. Stopped the shrapnel from killing him. He removed his shirt, pulled on the heavy red chest plate of his new combat armour, and felt it click into place over his heart. The rush of electricity hurt. <Power up.> <<<Armour charging.>>> “Wait, what?” Tony tapped the chest plate. <Charging? How long will charging take?> He hadn’t factored that into his calculations. “Absent minded idiot!” he slapped himself on the head. <<<Battery cells empty-->> “Dammit! And you call yourself a super genius?!” He removed the chest plate, and placed it back with the rest of the armour. “Alright, alright, I can do this. This is easy. I just…” He looked back at the red and gold armour. “Oh, this is going to suck.” STARK IRON WORKS: “What the Hell?” “Satellite images show… something. Movement. Craters. Something moving into craters.” “Yeah, shut up, we get it. Where’s Stark?” “Working, probably. I thought he was pretty cool but if he’s going to be--” “Who cares? Where’s Iron Man?” “Sitting behind a desk filling out paper work? Who knows!” “What the Hell?” “What?” “Does that even look like the Hulk?” NEW MEXICO DESERT: He’d jury rigged the gamma detection software into his normal armour. He was nearing in on the source, and he was already beginning to feel queasy. The Hulk destroyed a city. He was a man who came ready in a coffin, and his armour was the one thing standing between him and-- <What the Hell?> He shot down on the desert floor, and hovered above the scorched ground, a large shape emerging from a massive crater that formed in the time it had taken for him to land. <Who are you?> “Who… Am… I?” The voice was low and guttural. Each word chosen way before being spoken. “Who… Are… You?” <I’m Iron Man. Are you… Bruce Banner?> Stupid, thought Tony… stupid. “No… Iron Man… I am not… Though I can… Take you… To him…” Smoke cleared. Something stepped out of the bunker. It wasn’t the Hulk. <Who are you?> Tony brought up his gauntlet. <Don’t move.> “I can smell… Your… Fear…” The creature, bleached white skin like bone nearly glowing in the high noon heat. “hot… And sweaty… Are you scared, Iron Man…?” <Who. Are. You?> His repulsor buzzed as it charged up. Finger on the trigger, energy payload building. “… Scared.” The creature dove at Stark, and he let loose with a repulsor blast that could blast a hole in one hundred human beings lined up in a row. The energy blast bent over the chest of the creature, and it slammed its fists into his chest. “Hnff.” He felt his chest plate buckle. THROOM! <Tone, are you picking me up?> Happy’s voice buzzed online in his ear. <You won’t believe what just happened... Jesus, I’m looking at your vitals man, are you alright?> THROOM! “Hnnnnffff…” Another punch, and he felt metal in his mouth. Blood. “Nuhhaaaa!” He pooled his concentration, and a blast from his chest plate hit the creature, pushing it back. <Jesus, Tone, you just lost 87% power systems!> “Had to… Get it away… Unibeam prototype takes a hell of a lot of charge… Gotta…” He hacked up blood. “God… God… Gotta fly…” He powered on his thrusters and shot up into the sky. The creature grinned, and looked up. It crouched down, leaped up, and overtook Iron Man before he had gotten even remotely away. IT grabbed his ankle, squeezed, the sudden force cracking the boots repulsor jets, and breaking his foot, and then swung down, the Iron Man armour hitting the desert floor and creating its own crater. <Tony!!! Tone!!> The creature grinned. “Not just… Fear now… Death? I can… Smell… Death on you…” Fists were raised. THROOM!THROOM!The armour was holding, but it wouldn’t for much longer. He tried polarizing the surface of his suit, strengthening the millions of micro-plates that wove together to keep him safe, but even then, this thing, whatever it was, was battering down on him like he was wearing a tin-can. Tony Stark spat blood. His chest hurt. It burned. His heart. His heart… “Happy, give me some good news, tell me what systems are operational!” <I could lie to you, Tone, but honestly, that’ll get you killed. The suit is nearly empty, you need to get out of there right now, dammit!> “Repulsors are down, that means I can’t fight, let alone fly away--” As he said it, the words sunk in. He was going to die here. Die at the hands of this pale skinned monstrosity. The creature grabbed Iron Man by the head, and grinned once more. “…Any last… Words…?” <I need…> Hissed Tony. <A drink.> TOOM! The blow echoed out. The creature looked at Iron Man, dented, damaged, blood dribbling out of holes in the armor, and smiled. “…You… Weren’t needed… But… It was… Fun…” He dropped the man, and looked around. “The Leader… Will… Be pleased…” TO BE CONTINUED IN HULK #4
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 11:49:15 GMT -5
The Invincible Iron ManIssue #3: "Minus Human; Prologue" Written by Charles HoM Cover by Craig Cermak Edited by Brian Burchette ONE WEEK LATER: THROOM!THROOM!The armour was holding, but it wouldn’t for much longer. He tried polarising the surface of his suit, strengthening the millions of micro-plates that wove together to keep him safe-- but even then, this thing, whatever it was, was battering down on him like he was wearing a tin-can tuxedo! No, no time for jokes. Tony Stark spat blood. His chest hurt. It burned. His heart-- his heart--! “Happy, give me some good news, tell me what systems are operational!” <I could lie to you, Tone, but honestly, that’ll get you killed. The suit is nearly empty, you need to get out of there right now, dammit!> “Repulsors are down, that means I can’t fight, let alone fly away--” As he said it, the words sunk in. He was going to die here. Die at the hands of this pale skinned monstrosity. THE PRESENT
OVER MANHATTAN: “I love my life.” Tony Stark flew above the city. He was breaking God knows how many air-traffic laws, but who cared? He had a meeting planned with the Mayor. A few cigars, a few drinks, and that would be sorted. <Tone, how you doing?> “She handles like a dream, Hap. How are the feeds?” <I’ve got a full diagnostic on the monitors here at the Hub. Everything’s at tip top. Now, you’ve got a meeting in six minutes, how about blessing the peons with your presence?> “I’ll be there in four. Well, no, actually, make that three and seventeen seconds. Signing off.” He cut off the link between Happy and himself, and soared high, then, without a second thought, dove down, down, down, toward Stark Plaza. STARK IRON WORKS: “What’s wrong?” Jessica Wong scratched the back of her head absent mindedly. “Nothing, just got an idea in my head.” Nick Lewis laughed, shook his head, and looked at her. “Better than getting one in your elbow, Jess. Well… share?” “No, it’s gone now.” She lowered her hand and looked around. “Isn’t Mr Stark supposed to be doing a walk-through soon?” Lewis looked at his watch. “Yeah, I guess.” “Hello, my children!” Tony Stark entered, arms open, a smile plastered on his face. “How are we fairing today? Lewis, I expect to talk to you about your environmental engine in a few minutes, if you’re not busy. And--” He looked at Jessica Wong, who stood right in his path. “Aaaaand Wong, how goes your nanotech paramedic project?” “What’s Project Human Plus?” Tony’s eyes opened wide. “ Excuse me?” “What’s Project Human Plus?” She repeated, in the exact same monotone voice. “How did you hear about--?” Jessica began to stutter, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body convulsed. “Wong? Jessica?” He reached out to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her close as she seized up. He turned to the assorted men and women around him. “Get a doctor! Now!” HAMMER INDUSTRIES: “Stark is an idiot,” muttered Justin Hammer, as he watched his enemy’s face on his laptop. “For a genius, that is. For a genius, he’s quite the idiot.” He looked over to Sandhurst, who was staying close to the tesseract doorway into his secret lab. “These… Control disks… Work very well, my dear friend. And those optical implants…? Quality work.” “Those weren’t mine” stated Sandhurst matter of fact. “Bastardized Stark designs. Low-tech. Quite dangerous. The link to the optic nerve can cause blindness in the users. They also burn out very quickly.” Hammer looked back down at his laptop. Stark was looking right at him, a look of worry on his face. “Sun Tzu once said ’ if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will fight without danger in battles. If you only know yourself, but not your opponent, you may win or may lose. If you know neither yourself nor your enemy, you will always endanger yourself'...” He paused. “I know Stark. He’s an egomaniac. It’ll be delicious to watch his empire topple, and even sweeter when we pick up the pieces.” “So it’s war then, sir?” “War. Yes indeed, Mr Sandhurst.” He smiled and closed his laptop. “Destroy the evidence. Let us move on with our plans. Let us dig deeper into the mystery that surrounds this ‘Human Plus Project’. Stark’s reaction tells us something, does it not…?” “That he doesn’t want to talk about the top secret governmental project with one of his employees?” “Indeed…”
STARK IRON WORKS:
Tony looked at the woman in his arms that had uttered something so worrying to him and who had now collapsed to the ground, caught up in convulsions. He had reviewed her portfolio himself; she had no history of epileptic seizures in her medical charts. And why was she crying? “Wait…” His armours skin under-sheath formed around his fingers and he held her tongue down, the tensile material protecting his fingers from being bitten off and her tongue from being bitten off or swallowed, and then opened her eye with his spare hand, and jabbed a finger against her eyeball, then in one swift movement, pulled out a small contact lens from inside. “What the hell is this?” The device began to fizzle, and then dissolved into ooze that dribbled down his finger tip. “I know… I know what that is… god damn!” The medics finally arrived, and Stark left her in their capable hands. He then turned around, and headed straight for his office, with no intention in staying their for long. As soon as he entered and his door was shut behind him his under-sheath formed underneath his skin and clothes and he climbed inside his armour that propelled itself toward him with a thought. This was enough. TAVERN ON THE GREEN, CENTRAL PARK: “I’m glad to be finally out of the office, aren’t you, Pep? With Tone back, I’m back to being trusty retainer and tennis buddy. Which is all well and nice, but I guess the highlight is the extra time I get to spend with my lady love…” He smiled, and sipped his glass of water. Pepper ran her finger over the top of her glass, and looked over to Harry ‘Happy’ Hogan. “You sure know how to treat a gal, don’t you, Happy?” “You know me, ma’am, always a charmer.” His phone began to buzz, and he looked down at his pocket in surprise. Pepper looked at him, irritated. “I thought you were going to turn that off for a few hours?” “I did…” He picked it up, the caller ID a mess of constantly changing numbers. “Weird.” He answered. “Hello?” <Happy, I need you at the Hub, we’ve got work to do.> The voice was distorted, metallic, but Happy recognised it instantly. “Tone, I’m out for lunch with Pep…” <I’ll have you back before dinner. I have a table at the Waldorf-Astoria restraint on constant stand by. Plus the most expensive suite in existence. You can more than make it up to her, Hap, now get going, I need your help.> He hung up, and sighed. “I gotta go, Pep.” “Tony?” “Yeah.” She stood up, and walked over to his side of the table. “Go do your job, I’ll be waiting.” “I’ll make it up to you!” he said, nearly shouting. She kissed him. “I know you will.”
Twelve minutes later, Tony Stark, wearing his Iron Man armour, hovered high above the city, and waited. He needed someone to back him up, and he needed someone to monitor the control interfaces of the armour. He had been able to amp up his armour’s power levels by having a remote station observe his read outs, and right now, as Happy was his best friend and right hand man; only one man could do the job. With a crackle and a buzz, Happy’s voice came online. <Alright, I’m here, now tell me Tone, what we doing?> “An employee of mine is in a coma right now because… I think… of me. She asked me, before lapsing into a seizure, about Project Human Plus.” <That government thing?> “Indeed, mi amigo. What I’m about to tell you is highly illegal for me to. I signed dozens of contracts swearing me to secrecy. I’m committing secrecy even talking about it. But it’s a piece of my past, and I need to confront it. Phase Six of my life affirming plan in life.” Tony sent the armour on a dive toward the small pond below, and dove deep into the waters. When at the bottom of the pool, he brushed mud and litter away from a metal square. There was a red panel, and he pulled it up. Below the panel, was a pad of numbers. “Human Plus. It’s a name uttered within select scientific circles.” <Yeah? How come I’ve never heard of it?> “Because you’re not part of any circles, Happy, let alone select scientific ones. Keep up: ‘Human Plus’ was the Super Soldier Initiative in all but name. Steve Rogers was a legend, Captain America an icon. When Doctor Erskine died, so did the formula to create superheroes. Superheroes, Happy, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and win wars single-handedly, which, we have to admit, Captain America nearly did. So the military wanted to regain that power. Super Soldier Initiatives have run since the disappearance of Captain America (remember Hap, he’s officially MIA), but in the eighties, there was a lull, and it was only in the late nineties that the United States Military complex decided to try their hand at developing the formula again. But instead of the ‘Super Soldier Serum’, they decided to go in a different route, pulling together handsome, charming, suave billionaire technologist weapon developer Tony Stark (that’s me, if you’re not in the know, Hap) and expert nebbish biologist with a penchant for radiation experimentation, Bruce Banner.” <Quite a mouthful, Tone. So, where’s this Human Plus project located?> “Underneath New York.” Tony typed in a combination, and suddenly a bubble formed around him that covered the metal slab and Iron Man. The water drained, and then the panel hissed open, revealing another compartment the size of an elevator. Tony floated down. “And I’m here right now. I need you to keep an eye on everything. Human Plus was decommissioned. We went our separate ways, me to the East and a pretty horrific chest injury, and Bruce Banner… Well, he vanished.” <So what do you hope to find down there?> “I don’t know… closure. I need to find out if there’s anything left from my old life as a weapons maker that can be used to hurt anyone. If there is, I destroy this place. If not, then I destroy this place anyways.” <Huh. That’ll work.> The elevator shaft buzzed and quaked, and began to delve deep below the Earth. “How low are we now?” inquired Tony, as he ran an armour diagnostic whilst waiting. <Three miles and nearing four. You’re travelling pretty quick, Tone, I’d be ready for anything when you get down there, ok?> “I am, Hap, I am.” The elevator shunted to a stop, and Iron Man walked out, repulsors on full charge. What welcomed him was a strange sight. Against the wall was the wrecked body of an automated mandroid. “What the hell is going on?” <I see what you see boss, and it looks like someone got here before you.> “That’s impossible, that’s a mandroid, SHIELD use them, how could anyone take down a mandroid, for God’s sake…?” <Effortlessly, by looks of it, boss man.> “Thanks, captain obvious. Ok, I’m moving on. Keep checking ambient readings. I don’t know how they booby trapped this place.” Tony moved forward, and saw massive dents in the floor and wall. He paused, and bent over, looking down at the strange dents that seemed to get deeper and deeper as they approached the wrecked mandroid. Footprints? “Hope you’re recording this, Hap.” <Recording and not enjoying. Just get done with this, Tony, I’m really not liking this at all.> What can stop a mandroid, thought Tony, as he walked forward once more. Mandroid’s were designed for hard action. Nearly on par with his Iron Man armour, he thought, as his suit display began to show the layout of the complex. His armour plating was sending out sonics constantly, creating a map of the base as he delved deeper into the place. There was no movement… Just silence. “I don’t like this either, old friend.” STARK PLAZA, NEW YORK CITY: Pepper Potts sat at her desk, sipping her smoothie and working away. She was Tony Stark’s executive assistant, in charge of running his life, basically. She was currently heading the investigation into the missing R&D from cold storage. Security footage was fuzzy at best, but when the robberies took place, the cameras malfunctioned, grainy becoming static within seconds, and then pieces suddenly disappearing from sight. “Weird,” she whispered to herself. She had dozens of manifests for dozens of locations, and among the list of the stolen items were hologram emitters, video contact lenses, even… “Oh no.” She looked at the manifesto, and the list of actual items on sight, collected by Happy a few days back. “Oh, Tony, what have you done?” She picked up the lists, and her coat, and headed straight for the door. HUMAN PLUS COMPLEX: Tony didn’t want to fly. The servos made walking easy; flying was something he wanted to do out in the open, not in these tight corridors. He remembered his time working down here, plugging away at his nano-machines, his ideas flooding out, and he remembered the time spent talking with the other scientists, each with their own ideas and concepts. It was a fruitful time for him. Even though the idea of the armour was always in his head, it was here it started to become realised. He owed the people here a lot. He took another step, and a loud clicking filled the corridor, echoing out through the metal passage ways. His sensors didn’t register any hostiles, but then his ambient sensors picked up another noise. <Gas.> His visor began to analyse the compound that was mixing with the air, “You getting this?” <Yes I am, Tone. That’s some heavy duty knockout gas right there. If it wasn’t for the armour you’d be on the ground.> “Thought so. I’m nearing--” VRRRRTHe span around as the wall opened up behind him, and a massive metal creation, twice his size, powered up. <<INTRUDER! INTRUDER!>> “Danger. Danger, Will Robinson.” Tony threw up his arms as the newly activated mandroid slammed it’s fists down onto him. His armour held, and he pushed back instantly, throwing the robot off balance. The mandroid opened up its hands and tendrils shout out that yanked Iron Man’s arms to the sides, and then the chest panel mounted just below the circular head section of the armour began to spark. “Oh no.” Red hot energy pulsed down against Iron Man’s own chest, and Tony Stark nearly screamed in pain… nearly. It wasn’t pain that shocked him, but the surprise… His chest plate was reinforced to protect the magnetic lock that kept his heart pumping, but he was beginning to sweat… He began to think, his armour began to react, and his own chest plate pulsed, and repulsors throbbed outwards, hitting the laser blast of the mandroid and then crippling its attack systems. Iron Man then sent a burst of energy into his arm servos, and wrenched his hands forward, pulling the mandroid forward, and then with one almighty effort, slammed his head into the CPU of the robot, causing the machine to simply stop working. <Tone? Tony? Are you there? What happened? Everything’s gone black!> Tony grimaced. “I seem to have lodged my head into the body of this mandroid. Sorry about that.” He placed his hands against the robot’s front, and reeled back, freeing himself from the wreckage. “Damn, that was stupid. I need to devise battle tactics because that was just… pathetic.” <Just get going, Tony. This isn’t good.> “Right, right, on it.” Tony continued his journey into the .complex. There were dozens of labs, but he was only after one, and as he turned the corner, he knew that he was finally-- <Oh, my God.> <What is it, Tony?> Tony disengaged external audio, and glanced about the wrecked lab. “I’ve found the lab. And it looks like someone else has been here since the project was shut down.” <You mean you didn’t leave this place looking like some Yancy Streeters had run wild?> “Looks like a wild animal has run through here, I don’t get it… and that… is that graffiti?” <Tone…> The lab was a mess of overturned equipment and tables, and the only thing standing was single chiar leaning against the far wall, and spray painted across it was three words. Tony approached the chair and picked up the folder that was sitting there, gathering dust. Tony heard Happy murmur, <What…?> as they both scanned the information. It was full of news clippings from Oklahoma. Government reports. Chemical compound breakdowns. And photos. And then, at the bottom of the folder, a small memory stick. He picked it up, and flicked open a latch on his gauntlet, which revealed a USB port, and then he plugged it in. <The data's encoded, Tone. Hardcore encryption. We’re going to need--> “Don't worry, Hap, I’ve already cracked it, and--” A recording abruptly started playing in his helmet audio outputs, filling his head with a distant yet familiar voice. “Hello Tony. By the time you read this, I assume, hopefully, you’ve realised your dream of creating your armoured suit. Your Iron Man project, as you referred to it. You always said you never had the time to get down to it, but I’m sure, under the right conditions, you’ll get it down.” <Do you know who that is?> asked Happy. "It's... it's Bruce Banner," said Tony. <The gamma specialist? That actually makes sense... I’m downloading the files, Tone. Lot of chemical formulas and weird genetic baselines… spooky stuff. What I'd expect from what you told me about that guy back in the day.> “...Right conditions... right conditions... damn. Okay. Continuing playback:” “You remember why I worked so hard? Because I wanted to make the next Captain America? Well that was only part of it. I wanted to be the next Captain America. You live a life like mine for so long and hey, you’ll do anything you can to further yourself, chemically, academically, you know, the usual list of suspects. Human Plus held me back. Too many mandates. Too many specifics that didn’t allow me to follow the right avenues. We both knew this. We both bowed out of the proceedings. I was… approached by another military complex. It was an easy deal. Develop a bomb capable of wiping out combatants and leaving architecture intact. We needed radiation that wouldn’t linger, and also, in this day and age, something that would wipe out any other radioactive source present. So we used gamma radiation. The deal was, Tony, that if I did this, SHIELD would let me have access to the only sample of Steven Roger’s DNA left in existence, and I would be given a lab on a helicarrier, and I could do what I wanted to do. But stuff went down wrong. Some stupid kid was on the testing grounds on detonation day, and I went out to get him to safety because for some stupid reason we were running on a skeleton crew and I was… Exposed. And the exposure did something to my DNA and now there’s a monster inside me. The Oklahoma incident was me, Tony. The Hulk, as the media call it, is me. Now, I don’t have the resources to sort out my problem. I can barely control the manifestation. But I know that you can help me. You know have access to every piece of information I have ever written on the effects of the gamma bomb. Theories and supposition and hopefully, I don’t know the basis of a cure. Help me, Tony Stark. Help me save myself.”Tony took a moment to let the words sink in. “Bruce Banner. We meet at last.” <Jeez, Tone. That’s… he’s the Hulk?> “You wouldn’t know it if you met him, Hap. God, damn, he’s the Hulk. Alright, I’m coming to the surface, and I have a new agenda for Iron Works. Meet me at Stark Plaza in twenty minutes.” <On it. Disengaging.> The line went dead. Tony was alone. He collected all the data, looked at the wrecked computer circuitry and equipment, and opened two hatches in his armour. One would contain the papers, the other; he removed a spherical device from. It was the refined creation from a prototype he made before the incident. A black hole bomb. It would expand out a mile each way, and fold back in. Tony had done the calculations, the main labs would be hollowed out, but the metal structure would hold the supports in place, and the city above would not be damaged. The Human Plus complex would be demolished, but above, the secret would not know. He activated it, readied it to be accessed by remote control, and placed it on the floor. One last sweep for life signs… None. He shot out of the labs like a spark, and headed for the elevator. As he reached the panel that lead back up to Central Park, he took a moment to seal shut the entrance to the secret complex, and then soared above the city once more. With a flick of a switch, the city rumbled, then fell silent. His past was his own, not anyone elses. And now, he had something else to fight for: A friend in need. STARK IRON WORKS: “I know you are all working on individual projects, and that’s all well and good, but I need your help. We have the opportunity right now to help a man in need. A man battling with a cancer inside him created by a form of radiation no one is ever supposed to be exposed to and live to tell the tale. We need to heal the Hulk, my friends. I think we’re all familiar with the Oklahoma incident?” Murmurs echoed out among the scientists. They remembered the day that news broke. “The official story was hurricane damage. But the newspapers reported a different story. A grey behemoth of destruction that ran loose and destroyed everything in sight. I have been reached out to. And I need to save this man. Now, I’m prepared to do this myself. To work on this project alone, for hours on end, day and night, but I have to ask you all… Will you help me?” TO BE CONTINUED IN THE INVINCIBLE IRON MAN / HULK CROSSOVER NEXT MONTH!
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 11:01:36 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 11:01:02 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 11:00:11 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 10:58:47 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 10:57:33 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 10:27:47 GMT -5
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 10:24:59 GMT -5
The Invincible Iron ManIssue Two: "Human Plus; Part Two: My Violent Heart"Written by Charles HoM Cover by Craig Cermak Edited by: Brian Burchette THE PRESENT
HAMMER WEAPON DEVELOPMENT HUB; SLIDING SIDEWAYS FROM NEW YORK: “I pay you a lot of money, and I expect results.” Justin Hammer looked down at Cyril Sandhurst from the observation deck of the lab. Sandhurst was metres below him, working on something with his tools and instruments. “Tony Stark met with his board of directors today. You know what that means to me? That means I’ve been slighted. I need something to level the playing field, Sandhurst. I pay you to find me weapons. What weapon do you have that will level the playing field, eh?” Sandhurst looked up. “I might have something for you, sir. We have him contained down in storage cell 94, located him in the Antarctic. He didn’t speak a word of English, but we’ve been training him… Plus, we don’t have an ID on him ye; meaning that no organisation in the world does either, strangely enough. I like that about him. He’s a John Doe.” Hammer smiled at that piece of information. “What was he doing in the Antarctic, Sandhurst?” “Very little, but what we’ve been able to discern from his ramblings is the world ‘Captain’. I think that he’s a bit gone in the head.” Sandhurst paused. “I can show you the interview sessions.” “Please do.” YESTERDAY
STARK PLAZA, NEW YORK: “I pay you a lot of money. And I expect results.” Tony Stark looked at his board of directors. “I may not have been around for the past few years but God knows I keep track with what’s going on with my assets. You treat the man I appoint CEO like a turd, because you think you each individually have got what it takes to run this company? You try and mess him around, try to make him look bad like your some juvenile frat boys and not the leading corporate suits in this business, and now I have to come back and clean up the mess.” “Mr Stark, sir--” “I don’t want to hear it. You are all fired. I never liked any of you anyway. You have massive pension accounts ready for you, if you want them, take the money and run. I will make sure you receive very nice references if you want. But I will not have you muddy up the way Stark is run.” He shook his head, turned away, and sipped his coffee. He turned back and then gasped in surprise. “You’re still here? GO.” The ten men and women that made up the board of directors of Stark Enterprises bristled and blustered as they rose from their chairs. They filled out the door, some angered, some upset, but all united in their confusion. Law suits were on their minds; thoughts of revenge. Some remembered the offers Justin hammer had made to them individually over coffee the last few weeks. But all of them shared one singular thought: Where had Tony Stark been for the past few years? TWO DAYS AGO
QUINJET ZERO, EN ROUTE TO NEW YORK:
“Hello, yes, Milo, yes! Yes it’s Tony. Yes, yes, I know, forever, of course, yes! Well here’s the thing, yes, it’s good to hear your voice too, but yes. Ok, let me speak? Let me speak so I can get my important bit of talkie out of the way and then we can reminisce about those Lebanese twins we snagged. Ok. Thanks. I have been off the map for what, two years? That means that I haven’t had a real haircut in two years. I had a go myself, you know, because I can’t travel on the company jet like a hobo, but I build machines, I’m not an artist like you. So I’ll be in New York in about an hour, and I need you to clear all your appointments and beautify me. Yes, don’t worry, I’ll pay for the time, I’ll write you a blank cheque, just slot me in, ok?” Tony took a breath and smiled. “Thank you. And we’ll talk about old times! You know you love it. Alright, ciao!” He hung up, and looked at Pepper and Happy, who sat opposite him. “Right then. The Tower is being restocked with everything I need, Jarvis will be flying in next week, and I am soon going to be back to my old self. You have questions?” There was a moment of silence as Happy and Pepper looked at each other, and then back at Tony. They spoke in unison: “What the hell, Tony?” “What? I’m getting my life back in order. I have a list, in my head, of things I have to do. It’s going to be magnificent.” He grinned. His beard was a rough mess, his hair uneven and hacked at, but beneath all that he was happy. He looked healthier than ever. “Now listen, here’s what’s going to happen--” THE PRESENT
HAMMER WEAPON DEVELOPMENT HUB; SLIDING SIDEWAYS FROM NEW YORK
OUTSIDE CELL 94: “Alright, here’s what we’ve got on the subject.” Sandhurst took a disc from his gauntlet and slotted it into the screen by the door of the cell. Hammer looked on, intrigued. An image sparked up, black and white, grainy, and taken from a security camera inside an interview room. A man, hunched over in his seat, long white hair hanging below his shoulders limply, dressed in a blue jump suit, watched as a doctor sat in front of him. The doctor arranged some papers, and laid them out on the table. “Hello, my name is Doctor Lawrence. Do you have a name?” “Name,” repeated the white haired man. “Name. Plussssss.” The man snarled the word, felt it play across his tongue as spit and saliva left his lips. “Plussssskommander. Marhhh. No that isn’t me I can’t--” He grabbed his head, and start to exhibit symptoms of what appeared to be a seizure. A drop of blood fell upon his clipboard, and the doctor checked his nose. “--It’s all too much I can’t, I can’t stay…” The room filled with light, a crack shot up the glass of the camera and then suddenly the smoke cleared and the room was full of debris, and the only thing left standing was the man, sitting on his seat. There was a red haze in the air. Silence. And then the man sneezed, and wiped his nostril with his sleeve. Hammer watched in horror. “My God. He just…” “His heart rate raised a fraction, he released a form of radiation that hasn’t even been discovered yet, and then he went on to blow himself up, sir. And reconstituted instantaneously. He vibrates on a very strange wavelength, sir, and what we’ve been able to analyse is… Alien to us. We filled him full of tranquilisers and we opened him up, and his nervous system is a mess of bits and pieces that aren’t needed. My supposition right now is that he’s interpreting reality on a different level. He’s basically a meta-empowered autistic.” “Basically.” Repeated Hammer with a smile, “What’s a Plusskommander?” “Could be a symptom of his genetic mutation, an illusion he crafted in his mania. We don’t know. This is interesting though,” he flicked through a few pages on the clipboard he held. “When we opened him up, his system was wired so that he can trigger the explosions whenever he wants. Using surgical AI, we triggered a heart attack, pushed his heart rate past the level he exhibited when he exploded and nothing happened. He can control the explosions, it’s a conscious effort for him to do it. But he’s on edge constantly. We’ve experimented on him, moved him to a bomb proof cell, and we’ve been able to verify that it’s not stress that causes him to explode. It’s by choice. It’s magnificent.” “Do we know what caused this ability? If he’s one of those ‘mutant’ characters or something?” “No, we don’t. But he does not hold the mutant-gene inside him, so that kind of points to him being an altered human. He’s come into contact with something that has changed his DNA to make him a Human Bomb.” Hammer smiled. “Interesting...” TWO DAYS AGO
ONE OF TONY STARK'S MANY LUXURIOUS PROPERTIES, MANHATTAN: “Do I look beautiful?” Tony grinned as he spun around for Pepper. Happy had returned to the office to get to work on Stage One of Tony’s plan. He needed names, and he needed them soon. Tony had finished with his stylist, had changed into something that actually fit, and was ready to go. “Please, Pep, tell me I look pretty.” “I can’t believe you’re back, Tony,” smiled Pepper, as she gave him a thumbs up. “This is all happening so fast. And with all these new ideas you’ve got… Wow. Just wow.” Tony sniffed, and winked. “You didn’t tell me I looked pretty.” “You look very handsome, Tony. Now tell me about your IronWorks.” “Well the concept is simple. During my downtime creating the Iron Man suit, I funnelled money gained from stocks bought through dummy entities into building seven select locations around the world that are testing grounds for the future. I’ll show you one next week, because that’s what Stage Two is all about...” THE PRESENT
HAMMER WEAPON DEVELOPMENT HUB; SLIDING SIDEWAYS FROM NEW YORK
OUTSIDE CELL 94: The man jerked out of his cot, and grabbed Hammer. Sandhurst looked on from the corner, sweating in his exo-suit. He didn’t dare move. The man held Hammer tightly by the shoulders, and began to rant, his body beginning to glow as his body began to change. “They’re coming in their suits skin suits suits we can’t see and they want to take over and take everything we have and love and hold and they did this to me they made me the BOMB!” “I know who they are, son,” stated Hammer simply. “I know what they’re here to do. And we have the location of their number one man. You want to do your duty for your planet?” The man stopped suddenly. He released Hammer, and sat back in his cot. “Yes yes number one man take him down help the world save the earth do it help you sir yes sir want to sir.” “Then you calm down, son. You’re of no use to your planet a mess. You pull yourself together. He’s wearing a skin suit just like the rest. He’s calling himself Tony Stark and he’s going to kill us all, if you don’t act first.” The man looked up. “Kill Tony Stark.” Hammer smiled and nodded. “Yes. Exactly.” “I can do that… yes… I can; but, but I’d like a superhero name.” “You can have a name, son,” replied Hammer, “We’ll give you a great superhero name. Sandhurst, help out our friend. He’s calm now, he’ll be very helpful.” With that, they suddenly vanished. Sandhurst and Hammer stepped off of the blue platforms they had been standing on the entire conversation. “Hard light hologram emitters; genius invention, isn’t it Sandhurst?” “Yes, sir. One of your best acquisitions yet,” Sandhurst looked through the computer screens that displayed the interior of the bomb-proof cell the man was sat inside. “Are you sure sending him in to take out Stark is the best idea?” “Not the best, Sandhurst, but it’s the one we’re using. Right, call him Nitro, and then give him taxi fare to Stark Plaza.” Hammer exited the laboratory through the blue shimmering door on the wall. He reappeared in his office, and sat down in his chair. “This should be interesting.” THE PRESENT
STARK PLAZA, MAIN HALL:
“…The weirdest thing, I’m sitting at home and this guy in a suit just walks up to my door, knocks, and gives me a ticket and an invite to this place. Stark Enterprises is recruiting and you get five thousand just for attending! I mean, I have family down in Brooklyn, but God knows this piques my interest.” “Exact same happened to me. I was just talking to one of his staff, and apparently for the next week Tony is going to be flying across the world and attending six more of these get-togethers. ‘Recruiting for the future’, he called it. Hey, God, look…” There was a hush as all these men and women looked up to the stage they were sat before. A man walked on, dressed in a black suit and tie, familiar to some, unknown to others. Tony Stark had entered the building. “I’m glad you all accepted your individual bribes and invites and joined us today. My name is Tony Stark, and if you accept what I have to say, I’ll be your employer. If you don’t, well, you can pick up your goody bag on the way out and I won’t think any less of you. I’m going to give it to you straight; I’m a scientist just like everyone else in this room. I got rich building micro-munitions technology, tiny bombs, undetectable mines, super-automatic guns, and all that stuff you hate the government for. And you know what? That tore me apart inside. My life fell apart, and I had nothing to live for. I floated through meetings; let my yes-men run the company. But when I had an accident in the Middle East, when a piece of shrapnel from one of my own mines pierced my heart...” He closed his hand into a fist and patted himself gently on the chest. “...And everything changed. No longer was my mind full of schematics and ideas to make wars end quicker, or to make weapons that fire lightning, but suddenly ideas on how to prevent wars from happening in the first place, to make this world a better place. With the help of a fellow scientist, a man I called friend from the first time I met him, I was able to escape that terrorist camp, but sadly, he died in the crossfire. I, eh…” Tony paused, and looked at the glass of water on the podium in front of him. He clutched the glass and took a sip. “Doctor Ho Yinsen died in the escape, but I remember what he said to me when I first met him, at one of the numerous science conventions we frequented:” “We used to have to create to survive. We built fire to save ourselves from the cold. We built shelter from the storm. But in this day and age, we build to make ourselves comfortable. To make ourselves soft. The things we build now, the things people like you and I are wanted for, what use do they have? We have lost our edge as scientists, and if we are to survive the coming years, we must find that edge, and reclaim science as the method for furthering our hold on our lives.”
“That’s a pretty interesting thing to say, Doctor,” pointed out Tony, as he took a sip from his bottle of water, surreptitiously filled with high end vodka. “I am inclined to agree, but to survive in this day and age, we need money, and money is gained through making the things that we have no inclination to make. I didn’t grow up wanting to build tiny bombs, my friend; I wanted to build rocket boots! I wanted to touch the sky, and hold the stars in my hand, but there isn’t a place in this world for childhood dreams.”
“We’ll see, Tony. We’ll see.” Ho Yinsen bowed, and then left. “I’ll see you later, my friend. God speed.”
“Yeah, to you too.”Tony shook himself back from the memory, and then looked at the crowd before him. “Stark Enterprises is not about the past. It’s not about improving what’s come before, it’s about invention. It’s about constant reinvention and the future of our world. I’m not here to give you a really fast computer, that’s been done, that’s been done by other people. I’m here to give you a computer the size of your palm, with all the hardware synonymous with a super-computer. Because Stark is the future of technology, and we’re here to offer you a place in that future. You have been chosen as representatives of your field because you are the best of the best: The cream of the crop. Now, I’ve got to say, the pay is great, the job rewarding and the benefits unbeatable. Stark IronWorks are testing grounds for the future. Let’s get to it people, let’s guide this world into utopia.” He finished, and there was a silence that filled the hall. He looked around, and then spoke once more. “Any questions?” His eyes were drawn to a man that stood at the front of the scientists he had invited to his meeting. He didn’t recognise him. In his mind he had the faces of every scientist recorded, every name. This man wasn’t on any list. “Are you ready Tony Stark ready to die?” Tony’s alert systems went crazy. Behind his eyes there was a flicker of recognition as his mind began to run scenarios. There was a man standing in front of the stage, white hair hanging limply behind his shoulders, his eyes cold and dead. He wasn’t sweating, he wasn’t shaking, he just looked at Tony, stared straight through him. “Are you ready to die?” Tony thought fast. His stomach was turning, and he didn’t think it was because of the panic running through his being. New stomach lining began to grow instantly, his nano-machines doing their job. “You want to kill me? That’s interesting. But I think you should let all these men and women go before you do that. Else it’s not really fair on their friends and families. Can you do that?” The man glanced at the whispering crowd. “What? He didn’t say anything about the other people, they could be like you, infiltrators in their skin suits and God…” He clutched his head, and started to vibrate. “Go go go.” Tony looked up to the scientists, and past them, and saw Pepper, Happy, and the security detail funnel the men and women out of the hall. He connected directly with Happy’s brain, the microchip implanted in his head allowing for direct access. <<Get everyone out of here, but I need you to stay. Make sure they clear the building.>> “What?” Happy clutched his head, and then looked at Tony. <<Dammit, man, don’t do that to me, don’t hack into my head.>> <<GO!>> Tony smiled, and stepped down from the stage. “So, ehh, who sent you here?” The man looked up. “Sir. Sir sent me gave me a name and I’ve got to do what he says.” “He ordered you to do this?” Tony felt a trickle of blood leave his nose. “Hhk.” He activated the filters on the Iron Man Mk I helmet, built in after his return to America and grimaced. He hated that he needed them, but he was thankful that he had had the foresight to build them in. <<Happy, put on the helmet, and tell me what you see.>> “He did, and he wouldn’t lie to me would he, I don’t know, your flesh suit is pretty good you know that if I didn’t know the truth, then I might not think that you were one of them.” Happy placed the helmet on and the gasped. “Tony--” <<--Errm, Tony there’s some kind of blue fuzz surrounding the guy, getting thicker as it goes out. What is that?>> <<You’re looking through radiation sensors. Now would be a good time to lock down the tower. I’ve shut down the security cameras. Now. Please. Run.>> Happy didn’t second guess his boss, and turned tail and ran out of the lobby and into the square outside. Surprised crowds looked at him, and then he realised he was still wearing the Iron Man helmet. He removed it tentatively, and then turned to the police who had cordoned off the area. “You need to get paramedics here, these men and women may have been exposed to radiation.” The police officer nodded and headed toward the paramedics already present. Pepper pushed her way through the crowds, and reached her boyfriend. “Happy! Happy, where’s Tony?” “Yes, Mr Hogan, where is Mr Stark?” repeated one of the officers. “He’s still inside. He’s trying to talk the guy down.” “What?!” Pepper shook her head, and nearly ran toward the doors before Happy pulled her back. “You let him?!” Happy looked her straight in the eye. “He’s dealing with it. Him and his special friend, I assume.” The same police officer arched an eyebrow and looked at Happy. “Special friend?” “You’ll see,” shrugged Happy. MEANWHILE: “I’m not going to be able to talk you down, am I?” Tony concentrated. He concentrated long and hard and beneath his feet, he felt the gentle tap of metal upon wood, as something floated up below him. His head was swimming, radiation making his brain melt inside his skull. He knew that the man was either wearing something that was emanating the radiation or he was a mutant and his special ability was to make Tony have a headache. He smiled, and heard the tapping again. “Nuh no,” repeated the man, his body shaking. “Then I’m sorry.” He tensed his body, and the stage erupted from beneath him, shards of metal and wood flying up in the air. Between the blinks of the man in front of Stark, his armour attached to his body instantly. Beneath his suit the nano-sheath formed, connecting directly with the neuro relays in the armour, and then he was ready. <<Honestly, I am.>> “Metal suit.” The man grimaced. “Knew sir wasn’t lying to me why would he lie to me, it’s not a flesh skin suit it’s a metal one.” Tony didn’t hesitate, he shot forward and grabbed the man, whose body was now beginning to glimmer. <<I don’t know who sent you, but I won’t let you hurt any of my people.>> He grabbed the man and then shot upwards. Scanners ensured that the upper floors were empty, and the man continued to vibrate in his arms. He looked at the white haired man, who thrashed about in Iron Man’s arms, and his sensors recognised a build up of energy inside his body. <<My God.>> He switched his repulsor boots up to maximum, and shot through the roof of the building, hurtling through the top floor, and then higher and higher above New York. Below in the Plaza the crowd looked up, witnessing the red and gold suit of armour that flew up high in the sky and straight into the clouds above. The gasps were so loud, the crowd breathless in unison. “What the hell?” whispered one of the police officers. Happy smiled, and nodded slowly. “That’s m’boy.” Tony Stark’s armour was attempting to set up the counter-frequency to the vibrations, the Stark tempered metals changing their molecular frequency, but that would only delay the inevitable. <<I am sorry. I am so sorry.>> He was out of sight of New York now, the air was thin and then just at that moment… …Nitro detonated. Iron Man rode the shockwave down to Earth. <<Aww, crap.>> His systems shut down for a moment, but then absorbed the kinetic energy of the blast to start back up. <<Damn.>> He headed back to Stark Plaza, knowing that this was the time for Phase Three. He shot back down through the hole in the building, and landed right where he had armoured up. The armour left his body, his nano-sheath dissolved back into the hollows of his bones, and then he took a breath. That was another life he had had a hand in snuffing out. He wiped his nose of the blood that had dried there, and then looked at the armour, still floating in the air. “Form up.” The Iron Man reassembled completely, and then Tony looked at his handiwork. “Beautiful.” He headed toward the exit, flanked by his robotic suit. The Plaza was by now full of the press, paramedics, and police. The crowd fell silent as Tony exited, his head held low. The crowd then gasped as they saw the Iron Man suit behind him. He looked up. “He’s gone.” “Who the Hell is that?” asked the lead reporter standing closest, pointing to Iron Man. “Him?” Tony motioned to Iron Man and shrugged nonchalantly. “This is the man that saved my life. Iron Man. I’ll be willing to answer any questions after I talk to the police about the man sent into my building to kill me and my employees.” Happy smiled and turned to Pepper with a nudge. “Phase Four.” “Then… What’s Phase Three?” asked Pepper, confused. “You’ll see.” Tony took his time with the police. Let the press cook in their own juices, work up a storm out of confusion and wanting. Iron Man kept at his back. His bodyguard. Pepper and Happy stayed close, and gave as much information to the police as they too could possibly give. When the police were done, Tony turned to the crowds. There was a roar of questions, but Tony put up his hands. “Stark Enterprises is taking a bold turn as of today. A bold new direction for a bold new world. Because of this we need to talk bold steps to ensure the safety of our personnel. Iron Man is that bold step.” “Who is he?” Asked a reporter, her hand waving about frantically. “I couldn’t possibly ask--” Iron Man placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder, and nodded slowly. He placed both hands on his face plate, and there was a hiss of oxygen being released as he removed the golden visor. The face was unfamiliar to everyone there. “My name is Randall Pierce, and I’m Tony Stark’s security detail. And I gotta say,” he started, with a thick Brooklyn accent, “It’s a pleasure to be the first pilot of the new Iron Man armour.” “Who?” mouthed Pepper. Tony noticed her. “That’s all for today, sorry,” Iron Man replaced his visor at Tony’s words, and then looked around. “We have to go.” He nodded at Happy, and Happy nudged Pepper, who then called up the limo, which arrived a minute later. Iron Man shot into the air as Tony, Pepper and Happy climbed into the car, and then followed them from above. “Who the hell is Randall Pierce?” Tony grinned. “A computer virus, and a hard light hologram. For all intents and purposes he is a living person, with an apartment on the upper East.” “Phase Three,” nudged Happy, “Dump a computer virus of Tone’s own creation into the Stark hub that’ll work its way into the SHIELD processors and relay through to every important computer system in the world.” “You’re a genius, Tony.” Tony winked at her and continued to grin. “That I am, Pepper. Now who wants dinner? It’s on me!” EPILOGUE
MESOSPHERE AND RISING: The suit handled like a dream. He shot up through the sky, the gentle pull of gravity just niggling at his feet as the repulsors in his boots took him higher and higher. He was suddenly past the cloud field, straddling the higher atmosphere just before the oxygen got too thin for a human to breath. He sealed every compartment in his suit, and activated life systems. Air hissed around him. Even with the under sheath attached to his skin, he felt it. Suddenly gravity ceased to exist and he was there, high orbit, his repulsors still pushing him higher and higher. Tempered Stark metals didn’t freeze. Didn’t crack. And he kept getting higher... and higher... “This,” whispered Tony, “This is what I always wanted.” His hand reached forward toward the stars, and then he closed his eyes, and rolled backwards, back to the Earth. THE END
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 10:03:38 GMT -5
Merai said:
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Merai said:
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 10:00:52 GMT -5
Brian said:
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Post by HoM on May 12, 2019 9:56:10 GMT -5
lissilambe said:
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lissilambe said:
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