Xavier’s institute.

Asleep on the couch is Gabby.

She’s been out for quite a while.

That’s when a group of men get into the Institute.

How? Possibly a break-in.

Gabby snaps awake just as one of them grabs her.

That’s when she’s carried out.

There were many things Illyana Rasputina had conquered in her life.

Limbo, for one. Demons, countless. Armies of the damned, several. Her own personal demons, depending on the day and how much she felt like acknowledging them. She had stared down eldritch horrors, wrestled with the consequences of wielding a power that could rend the very fabric of reality, and carried a sword forged from her own soul with the sort of casual indifference most people reserved for a particularly ugly handbag.

And yet, on this particular evening, she found herself confronted with a far more terrible adversary.

Hunger.

Illyana stood in the middle of the X-Mansion's kitchen, staring into an open refrigerator with the expression of a woman surveying the aftermath of a natural disaster. There was half a lemon. A suspicious container of something that might once have been pasta. Three bottles of water. And, for reasons she suspected were somehow Scott Summers' fault, approximately seventeen individual containers of Greek yogurt.

She closed the refrigerator.

Opened it again.

The yogurt remained.

"Disgusting."

The refrigerator was slammed shut with enough force to make a nearby magnet fall off.

Illyana turned toward the window. Beyond the glass, the world was darkening into evening, the campus settling into that peculiar quiet that always seemed to descend whenever everyone else had found something to do that wasn't her problem.

She could cook.

She could also open a portal to a dimension populated by fire-breathing abominations and negotiate the surrender of its ruling monarch.

One of these options was significantly less appealing than the other.

Her right hand lifted.

Gold light bloomed around her fingers.

Space split open with a familiar, shimmering shriek, a circular wound in reality revealing not the sulfurous skies of Limbo, nor some ancient battlefield soaked in the blood of the damned, but a fluorescently lit parking lot.

A Taco Bell.

Illyana considered the portal.

Considered the restaurant.

Nodded once.

"Good. Civilization."

She stepped through.

The stepping disc snapped shut behind her, leaving absolutely no trace of the interdimensional breach that had just deposited one of the world's most dangerous mutants into a fast-food parking lot.

A car alarm began screaming somewhere to her left.

Illyana glanced at it.

"Not my problem."

She strode toward the entrance.

In her right hand rested the Soulsword, its silver blade gleaming with ethereal light, its hilt wrapped securely in her grip. The weapon hummed faintly, radiating enough mystical power to make the automatic doors hesitate before sliding open. She wore her usual black outfit, her long platinum hair falling around her shoulders, and the expression of someone who had already decided that anyone foolish enough to comment on her choice of dinner would be fed to something with too many teeth.

The restaurant fell silent.

A teenager holding a Crunchwrap halfway to his mouth stopped chewing.

A woman at the soda fountain slowly lowered her cup.

Behind the counter, a young employee looked up from the register and experienced, for one brief and terrible moment, the sort of existential crisis normally reserved for people who discovered that their entire lives had been a simulation.

Illyana approached the counter.

The employee stared at the sword.

Illyana stared at the menu.

"Hello," she said.

"Uh. Hi."

"I would like food."

"Okay."

"Many foods."

"Right."

"Excellent."

She placed the flat of the Soulsword against the counter.

The metal made a soft clink.

The employee's eyes followed it downward.

"Is that, like..."

"A sword."

"Yeah. I got that."

"Then we understand each other."

The employee swallowed.

"Are you ordering for a party?"

Illyana paused.

She had not considered this.

A party. The concept suggested guests, conversation, perhaps a cake. The whole thing sounded exhausting.

"No."

"Oh."

"A personal army, perhaps."

"Okay."

"But they are dead, and most cannot digest mortal food."

The employee stared at her.

Illyana stared back.

"Can I get your name for the order?"

"Illyana."

"Last name?"

"Rasputin."

"Cool."

He typed.

Illyana leaned forward, examining the menu as if it were an ancient grimoire whose forbidden secrets might grant her dominion over the universe.

"One Crunchwrap Supreme."

"Okay."

"Three Doritos Locos Tacos."

"Okay."

"One regular taco. For comparison."

"Sure."

"Two cheesy gordita crunches."

"Anything else?"

"Five chicken quesadillas."

The employee's fingers stopped moving.

"Five?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"One Mexican Pizza."

"Got it."

"One order of nacho fries."

"Sure."

"One order of cinnamon twists."

"Okay."

"One Cinnabon Delights."

"How many?"

Illyana tilted her head.

"How many come in an order?"

"Two, four, or twelve."

"Twelve."

"Okay."

"One black bean chalupa."

"Anything else?"

"One bean burrito. One beefy five-layer burrito. One cheesy bean and rice burrito. One potato soft taco. One spicy potato soft taco."

The employee began to type with the haunted intensity of a man trying to disarm a bomb.

Illyana tapped the Soulsword against the counter once.

"And a quesadilla without the quesadilla."

The employee stopped.

"I'm sorry?"

"The filling. The things inside the quesadilla. Put them in a container. No tortilla."

"So... a side of chicken and cheese?"

"Yes. And sour cream."

"Okay."

"Also, a side of guacamole."

"Got it."

"And a large Baja Blast."

The employee nodded with the desperate relief of a man who had finally encountered something resembling a normal human request.

"Anything else?"

Illyana thought about it.

Her eyes drifted toward the drinks menu.

"Do you have anything that tastes like the ocean?"

"Uh. We have Pepsi."

"Is it salty?"

"No."

"Then no."

She leaned closer.

"Do you have a drink that tastes like victory?"

The employee looked at the register.

Looked at the sword.

Looked at the ceiling, perhaps silently appealing to a God he had never believed in until this precise moment.

"That's probably the Baja Blast."

Illyana nodded solemnly.

"Then another one."

"Two large Baja Blasts."

"One large. One medium."

"Got it."

"And a water."

"Sure."

"For the sword."

The employee's gaze flicked toward the blade.

"Does... does the sword drink water?"

Illyana looked down at the Soulsword.

Its pale light pulsed once, as if offended by the question.

"She is very particular."

The employee added a water to the order.

There was a pause.

"Anything else?"

Illyana glanced toward the little packets of sauce stacked beside the register.

"Yes. Sauce."

"Which kind?"

"All of them."

"All of them?"

"Fire. Diablo. Hot. Mild. Whatever the green one is. Whatever the orange one is. Any packet you have that is not currently being guarded by a federal agency."

The employee began filling a bag with sauce packets.

Illyana watched with approval.

"Good. You understand abundance."

"That'll be fifty-eight dollars and forty-three cents."

She blinked.

Then, with the quiet horror of a woman who had fought the forces of darkness only to discover that capitalism was considerably harder to stab, Illyana reached into her pocket.

A crumpled twenty-dollar bill.

A five.

Three quarters.

A foreign coin.

A small, scorched playing card from Limbo.

And a tiny black stone that whispered in a language no mortal throat was meant to speak.

She placed everything on the counter.

The employee looked at the money.

Illyana looked at the employee.

"That should cover it."

"Ma'am, I don't think this coin is American currency."

"It is from a kingdom that no longer exists."

"Right. But I can't take it."

"Then the kingdom's loss is your gain."

"Do you have a card?"

Illyana stared at him for several seconds.

Then she smiled.

It was not a reassuring smile.

A golden ring of light opened behind her.

Through it, the employee could see a throne room beneath a blood-red sky. Something enormous moved in the distance. A chain rattled. A scream echoed through the portal, abruptly cut off by what sounded suspiciously like a door slamming.

Illyana reached backward without looking.

There was a metallic clatter.

She withdrew a black credit card bearing the name ILLYANA RASPUTINA and slid it across the counter.

The portal closed.

The employee stared at the card.

Illyana smiled again.

"Mutant benefits."

"Right."

The transaction went through.

"Your order number is one hundred and twenty-seven."

"Wonderful."

"Your food will be ready shortly."

Illyana stepped aside, planted the Soulsword upright beside her, and waited.

A small child sitting near the window had been staring at her for the better part of three minutes.

Eventually, he tugged at his mother's sleeve.

"Mommy, is she a princess?"

Illyana turned her head.

The mother went rigid.

"No," Illyana answered.

The child looked disappointed.

"I am a queen."

The mother closed her eyes.

The child looked delighted.

"Of where?"

"Nowhere you would want to visit."

"Do you fight dragons?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you have a castle?"

"Several."

"Do you have a horse?"

"No."

"A unicorn?"

"No."

"A dinosaur?"

Illyana paused.

"...Not currently."

The child gasped.

Illyana gave him a small, solemn nod, as though they had just concluded a diplomatic exchange of considerable importance.

Then the kitchen called out her number.

"Order one twenty-seven!"

Illyana rose immediately.

The employee behind the counter had assembled an impressive collection of paper bags. There were enough of them to suggest either a particularly ambitious family dinner or a minor logistical operation. He slid them across the counter with the exhausted determination of a man who would spend the rest of his life telling this story and never once be believed.

Illyana inspected the haul.

"Beautiful."

She lifted the bags with one hand.

With the other, she picked up the Soulsword.

The blade hummed.

"Do not judge me," she informed it.

The sword glowed faintly.

"I heard that."

She turned toward the door.

Then stopped.

Looked back.

"One more thing."

The employee visibly aged.

"Yeah?"

"Do you sell Taco Bell gift cards?"

"...Yes?"

"Excellent. I require one."

"For how much?"

Illyana considered the question.

"Enough to ensure that I never need to cook."

He stared at her.

"That's not really how gift cards work."

"Then your business model is flawed."

She purchased a twenty-five-dollar gift card.

Then, carrying enough fast food to feed a small militia, Illyana walked outside into the cool evening air.

A few cars passed.

Somewhere in the parking lot, a man stood beside his pickup truck, staring at her with the unmistakable expression of someone who had witnessed something he could never explain to his wife.

Illyana ignored him.

She raised her free hand.

Golden light erupted beneath her boots.

The stepping disc opened, revealing the familiar, hellish landscape of Limbo. Jagged black towers rose against a crimson sky. Demons patrolled the distant battlements. Somewhere, a tortured soul wailed.

Illyana glanced down at her Taco Bell bags.

Then at the portal.

"Home."

She stepped through.

The disc snapped shut.

And so it was that the Queen of Limbo returned to her throne room carrying a Crunchwrap Supreme, seventeen different varieties of sauce, two Baja Blasts, and a gift card.

She placed the food on her throne.

Sat down.

Rested the Soulsword against the armrest.

Then, with the solemn reverence of a woman preparing to perform an ancient and sacred rite, she unwrapped her Crunchwrap.

The first bite was glorious.

The second was better.

By the third, the screams of the damned had faded into the background.

For the first time in centuries, the rulers of the infernal dimensions could breathe a little easier.

Their queen was occupied.

And nobody, absolutely nobody, was going to interrupt her dinner.

Not even for the end of the world.

Especially not for the end of the world.

She still had nacho fries.

Tony is in his lab at Avengers Mansion, attempting to repair his recently damaged suit.

J.A.R.V.I.S.: "Sir, it's been 24 hours since you've last left the laboratory. May I sugges-"

Tony looks up from the table he's repairing his suit on.\*

"No J.A.R.V.I.S., unless it's important, I'm busy with this."

Tony then goes back to tinkering with the armor.

Can she climb up a tree?
Yes she can, easily!
That's whyyyy her name is Squirrel Girl!

I see a bunch of jerkfaces robbing someone nearby.

Is she tough? Listen bud:
She's got partially squirrel blood!

I drop in on the bad guys and start going to town on them while still singing.

Who's her friend?
Don't you know?
That's the squirrel, Tippy Toe!
Surprise! She likes to talk to squirrels!

I punch the bad guys and hit them with my tail

At the top of trees is where she spends her time!
Like a huuuman squirrel she enjoys fighting crime!!!

I throw one of the bad guys away.

Squirrel Girl, Squirrel Girl!
Powers of both squirrel and girl!
Finds some nuts, eats some nuts!
Kicks bad guuuuuuys' evil butts!

To her, life's a great big acorn,
Where there's a city crime torn,
You'll find the Squirrel Girl!!!

Tippy Toe chitters at me enthusiastically

I know, right??

Colin was sitting on the couch in Kamala's house...sketching...if he was going to be a hero, he'd need a suit...so he started sketching ideas...a hood? no that felt too wrong for some reason? a cape? no...it would get in the way of movement...black leather?....ew no. He sighed...thinking of ways to design a costume...he needed to wear something while doing hero work...

He saw the news on Kamala's family's tv...footage of her...in her doing her work as Ms Marvel...he sighed and smiled...she was so cool...how was he supposed to look cool or good in front of her? he sighed...before all the sudden an idea hit him...his eyes widened as he began to sketch out a design, creating blueprints to various gadgets he could use, different tips for his arrows, ways he could store them! it was all coming together as he kept sketching...before eventually he finished...he had an idea for what his suit would be...he immediately rushed to Amir's old room to begin work on it

OOC: I do plan on drawing his suit soon! anyways I hope you all are having a great day because you deserve it and yeah byeee :D

Greetings, mortals! I am Loki! And I will be visiting this realm of Midgard soon enough to show you exactly what a god of mischief can do. Perhaps my brother will come to save you. Tis doubtful, however. I'll make sure that galoot stays away from my schemes.

Kate’s.

Gabby’s inside, playing with Jonathan.

That’s when she feels a chill down her spine.

Something bad.

She looks to see if Kate is anywhere.

Probably not.

Her hands ball into fists.

SNIKT!

Out pop her claws.

Despite the anxious feeling, she manages to put on a brave face.

She leaves the apartment, hoping that it’s nothing and maybe she was simply being paranoid.

Colin was...on top the roof of a building, he had snuck up there holding his bow and arrow...bringing a wooden board he had found up...deciding to use it as a target. He breathed in and out...before drawing his bow...and firing...missing horribly and the arrow hit the ground.

He tried again...and missed, the arrow going off the side of the building...likely hitting something, he sighed...before trying again, and again, and again...failing each time...before eventually he groaned and fired a loose shot...with it hitting the board "huh...guess its improving?" he said...before taking the arrow out...and continuing to practice for hours...slowly improving each time

After a while he got an idea...and closed his eyes, as an aura appeared around the arrow and he fired it behind him...and he telekinetically looped the arrow back around and hit the board in the dead center of it. opening his eyes and grinning...he might be able to combine his powers with this fighting style.

He would the continue to practice for hours...on top of the roof of that building...alone...

OOC: this is open to interaction!!! I hope you all have enjoyed him so far and yeah byeee :D

Colin thought about the previous night...how he had struggled against a basic mugger...he sighed, he needed to figure out a way to fight...so what better place to go than the mall! he stopped at a mall and began to wander around, exploring various stores...picking up a few clothes that he could use to maybe build a suit? before finding himself in a camping store...

he looked around, rifles? no it would be too violent and dangerous...a machete? no...too close range...but then he came across something, a bow with arrows...he thought for a moment, plenty of heroes used a bow and arrow, like hawkeye! he checked the price...and groaned...it was an investment thats for sure...but hopefully it would be worth it...he ended up purchasing it along with arrows and a quiver...before exiting the mall...and grabbing some flowers for Kamala...blushing a bit thinking about her

He then walked back to her house and went into Amir's room, laying his purchases out...grabbing a notebook and pen, and beginning to sketch out some designs...specialized arrows...maybe those would give him a chance as a hero...

Rain pours around Peter as swings, rooftop to rooftop.

“Five minutes, can it just stop hurting for five minutes.”

it’s been four months, four months since uncle Ben had died. Four months of the same harrowing dream. He had taken up the mantle of spider man out of vengeance but that’s not what he wanted. Now, above all else; he wanted to help people.

Peter lands on a rooftop and stops to think for a moment.

OOC: I assumed that the old spider man’s claim was void due to inactivity, if I am wrong can someone please correct me. Good day everyone, this is interactive

Sai looks at the building before walking to the front door and knocking on it. "Anyone home?"

Wassup guys! Ya miss me? You better have!

Gabby’s in Kate’s apartment.

She looks around.

Neither Kate nor Laura seem to be around.

She grins impishly.

Picking up Jonathan, she quickly sneaks out of the apartment.

She runs right to the nearest park.

She sits down on a bench.

Jonathan does the same.

Colin was in Kamala's house...looking through the few clothes he had...before putting on a green jacket, some gloves, jeans and sneakers, pulling his hood up and opening his window...he had a plan for tonight...he was going to try hero work.

Ever since that encounter with the sentinel...he had been thinking...he managed to tear it apart so what if he used his powers to help more? maybe try that whole...hero thing Kamala had been doing out. He jumped from rooftop from rooftop, the stars in the night sky looking beautiful as he landed on a roof...and saw something.

Someone was being mugged...he took a deep breath in and out before jumping down...and landing on his face, he scrambled up with blood dripping from his nose "u-um hey! stop right there!" he shouted at the attacker...who looked at him and laughed "go home kid...and save yourself some trouble" he said...but Colin stood there, glaring at him.

The man shrugged his shoulders before firing a shot at him. Colin quickly covered his face with his arms and the bullet stopped...in thin air...the two men looked confused for a moment...before without even thinking about it, Colin telekinetically threw a dumpster at the man...knocking him out.

The victim looked at Colin for a moment...before screaming and running away "w-wait I-I-...." he sighed "I'm here to help..." he said quietly...before climbing back up to the top of a building and continuing to look over new jersey...blood still dripping from his nose and rain pouring down on him "how does Kamala do this..." he questioned...crouched on the building and sighing

OOC: THIS IS OPEN TO INTERACTION! I hope you all are doing good because you all are awesome! anyways byeee :D

Meanwhile, at Project Rebirth, Katherine paced across the observation deck, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she monitored a bank of silent tactical displays.

Three days.

Three days without a single transmission from Agent Venom.

“General Dodge, Agent Venom has been radio silent for three days, sir. He’s lost in the Savage Land, and we’re twenty-four hours past the point of permanent interconnection with the symbiote. I recommend we exercise the fail-safe and detonate Agent Thompson by remote control.”

The General said nothing.

He was watching a bouncing ball.

More specifically, a pickleball.

He stood alone on an indoor court, paddle in hand, calmly tracking the tiny yellow sphere as it bounced across the opposite side.

TWKK!

“Katherine, the odds that he could still have control of the suit…” he asked, launching himself into a diving volley, “something of a long-shot?”

TWKK!

The ball rocketed back across the court.

Dodge pushed himself upright, wiping sweat from his brow without so much as glancing toward the observation deck.

“DO NOT DETONATE.”

He paused.

“We need Agent Venom to destroy that shipment of Antarctic Vibranium. If he fails, we’re in for a BAD few years.”

Another bounce.

Another swing.

“Have faith.”

The General finally looked toward Katherine.

“Our boy will keep himself under control.”

Deep beneath the surface of an Antarctic facility, a pitch-black corridor suddenly erupted with violent muzzle flashes.

BLAM!

BLAM!

POW!

POW POW!!

For an instant, the darkness became a strobing nightmare.

Every flash revealed something different.

Claws.

Fangs.

Jagged teeth.

A shifting mass of midnight-black slime crawling across the walls.

A pair of white eyes.

The enormous silhouette of something that had once been a man.

This wasn't a soldier anymore.

This was Venom.

I'm losing control.

Suit's resisting all commands.

Sidetrack with Kraven.

Cost me days.

Vibranium shipment set to go—

“GAKK—!”

SKRUNKK!

A cluster of razor-thin tendrils erupted from Venom's back, punching straight through two armed guards before violently flinging another into a steel bulkhead.

CRUNCH.

Flash stared at the bodies.

Or at least, some part of him did.

Memory going spotty.

Did I kill all these men?

A pause.

Not men.

Terrorists.

Dealing in unstoppable bullets.

They deserve this.

A mercenary hovering on a crackling green ghost board suddenly swept a heavy, flaming chain through the darkness.

The links wrapped around Venom's torso.

The symbiote didn't even flinch.

Its massive hand closed around the burning chain.

And pulled.

“GHRAA—!”

DOOOM!

The mercenary was ripped from his board and hurled face-first into an overhead gas line.

The resulting explosion swallowed the corridor in orange flame.

Mercenaries.

Their business kills women and children.

Mothers.

Fathers.

People who never had a choice.

A second henchman swooped low on a twin glider, a glowing thermal blade raised overhead.

The blade came down.

“Wwee will murdderr tthem!”

Venom lunged upward, a web-line snapping from his wrist and wrapping around the underside of the glider.

The creature yanked.

The mercenary's eyes widened.

“Perhaps.”

Venom's grin stretched impossibly wide.

“Or ya just might discover—”

The thermal blade plunged into his shoulder.

STUKK!

Black alien matter boiled away from the wound, filling the air with acrid smoke.

“YERAGH!”

“—THE HENCHMEN AIN’T NO CHUMPS!”

Venom tore the glider sideways.

Both creatures went crashing through a reinforced window.

The mercenary slipped from his perch.

Below him waited a high-pressure fuel pipeline.

Then—

BOOM.

Fire swallowed the facility.

And somewhere inside the monster, Eugene Thompson wondered whether he was still the one making the decisions.

Hours later, rain hammered New York City.

Spider-Man swung desperately between skyscrapers, scanning every rooftop, alley, and street below.

Betty Brant was missing.

And Spider-Man had been searching for her for hours.

Then, on a rain-slicked helipad, a hijacked transport came to a sudden stop.

The doors opened.

Flash stepped out.

His breathing was heavy.

His shoulders trembled.

Black tendrils crawled across his skin.

Then the transformation completed itself.

The human disappeared beneath the monster.

A shadow dropped from the clouds.

TWOKK!

Spider-Man's boots slammed into Venom's chest.

The creature went skidding across the wet concrete.

“ENOUGH!”

Spider-Man's voice cracked with fury.

He thought the monster was responsible.

He thought this thing had taken Betty.

He had no idea who was trapped inside it.

“S-sstop—”

Venom staggered upright.

“W-wwe arren’t—”

The symbiote's mouth twisted.

“I’m nnot—”

“—EVER going to hurt another person again!”

Spider-Man charged.

His fist slammed into Venom's jaw.

The impact snapped the creature's head sideways.

And something inside the symbiote finally broke.

Not Flash.

The symbiote's restraint.

The black mask split open into a monstrous grin.

White eyes narrowed.

Claws extended.

The voice that emerged was no longer remotely human.

“KKILLL SPPIDDER-MMAN!!”

Venom surged forward like a freight train.

Spider-Man barely had time to move before the creature caught him, lifted him, and slammed him into the road below.

BOOM!

Concrete cracked beneath his back.

Venom followed him down.

His claws dug into the roof on either side of Spider-Man's head.

One massive fist rose.

Inside the blackness, Eugene Thompson screamed at himself.

Stop.

The fist kept rising.

STOP.

The symbiote's claws dug deeper.

I can't—

Then he heard it. Not Venom. Not the symbiote.

Peter.

“Parker…”

The fist stopped.

The creature's grin twitched.

For one impossible second, the world seemed to go silent.

Venom looked down.

And Flash saw the eyes behind the mask.

Peter's eyes.

Terrified.

But not because he was afraid of dying.

He was looking past Venom.

At the people below.

Worried about them.

Protecting them.

Even now.

Even with a monster standing over him.

Parker…?

Eugene's breath caught.

“P-Parker…?”

Could it really be him? Could Puny Parker—The kid from Midtown? The kid Eugene had shoved into lockers? The kid he'd mocked. The kid he'd made feel small.

Could he be Spider-Man?

The answer suddenly felt obvious.

Venom's body recoiled.

And for the first time in three days, Eugene Thompson looked through the symbiote's eyes and saw the person he'd been trying not to think about.

The person he had hurt. The person he had spent years regretting hurting.

“...Peter?”

The symbiote violently recoiled from itself.

“NO!”

Black tendrils lashed across Eugene's face, forcing the thought away.

“SPIDER-MAN!”

The monster raised its fist again.

But this time, Eugene was fighting back.

Not because Project Rebirth was listening.

Not because General Dodge had given an order.

Not because the symbiote was hurting him.

Because the monster was about to hurt Peter Parker.

His old friend.

His brother.

The kid Eugene had once tormented.

And somehow, impossibly, the man who had become everything Eugene never knew he could be.

No.

Not him.

Anybody but him.

Spider-Man's fist suddenly connected with Venom's face.

THOOM!

The symbiote was knocked backward, skidding across the street.

Venom roared.

Flash barely had time to recover before the creature surged forward again.

“SPIDER-MAN!”

But somewhere beneath the black, Eugene Thompson was still fighting.

And this time**, he wasn't fighting for himself.**

He was fighting for Peter.

OOC: Private RP for Spider-Man and Venom, but anyone can comment as though they're watching the confrontation, either in person or online. I deviated from the comics for this one, cause it’s where I wanted to really start my own arc.

Colin woke up in Kamala's house...again...he sighed getting up, looking at his arms...covered in bandages...same for his stomach and chest, he groaned a bit before telekinetically pulling a pair of jeans toward him, putting them on...yawning a bit he grabbed a plain white T shirt and put it on...walking downstairs and sitting down...his hair was a mess and there were bags under his eyes and...

every

thing

hurt

he pulled out a few pieces of scrap and various pieces of tech from his pockets....just tinkering sitting on the couch...he couldn't really do much else...his leg was broken and his arm was still recovering from being cut open...so he just sat there...tinkering...thinking a bit about Kamala...and blushing a bit

he shook his head, trying to get rid of it as he tried to focus on building his gadget...alone...not fully knowing if anyone was there...

Is here mes amis!

Remy says, shuffling a deck of card in his hands, he black eyes and red pupils looking every which way. Not paranoid simply observing

“I didn’t miss too much of dis party now did I?”

It had been a long while since Steve had seen any actual action in the hero field, and that wasn’t looking to change any time soon.

Yet, he started to miss the front lines and felt guilty for leaving those he called his comrades without him.

he steps down from his position to return back to the front lines

Of course, not even 24 hours goes by before Francis Castiglione (Frank Castle AKA The Punisher) is back in the fight. Only 5 hours after fleeing to New Jersey and changing his identity, He gets robbed by younger members of The Hand.

After getting stabbed, sliced, and put through a whole hallway worth of ninjas, Punisher finally ends the initial terror and makes them regret ever robbing him. Deciding he needs to make them regret that choice even more, he follows a member he let get away. Tracking them down to an old mansion that’s been condemned and deemed unsafe for living.

That’s where the real fun begins.

OOC: trigger warning there is violence in this, as well as some MILD gore, I wanted to warn you all beforehand and yeah, anyways I hope you all enjoy!

a heavy breathing could be heard in the streets of new jersey, alongside a the sound of two light footsteps...running, Colin was running. He turned at a corner and sprinted as fast as he could, turning around and seeing two glowing mechanical eyes chasing after him...it was a sentinel...

the machine towered over him as its foot stomped into the ground, creating enough force to knock Colin down as he tried to get up it stepped on his leg...he felt the bones snap in it as he used his telekinesis to pull himself out from underneath its foot, he continued to try to crawl away in a desperate attempt...why did he have to be like this? he didn't ask to be a mutant, he didn't ask to be this way, and yet people still hunted him for it...he thought about his parents...what they used to do to him for being like this...about how long he had spent running...he felt rubble come crashing down on top of him, metal jamming into his arm as rocks broke it..."AUGH!!" he let out a cry of agony as it came down

he turned over and looked back up at the sentinel...its glowing eyes looming over him before without even realizing it...he ripped a lamp post out of the ground, sending it over to the sentinel with his telekinesis, stabbing it in the eye...his eyes widened in shock before he sent another...then another, as many objects he could find he sent towards the sentinel...slowly tearing it apart...before eventually it stopped, and toppled over...looking around Colin saw all the destruction he had caused...he had to get out of there...

he crawled away, leaving a trail of his own blood as he leaned his back against a wall in an alley...covered in a mix of blood, sweat and rubble. He clutched his side, he was exhausted...barely awake at that point...and barely looking alive..."w-what have I done?" he thought...leaning back, trying to stay conscious

OOC: hiiii this is open to interaction! I hope you all enjoyed it and yeah, anyways I hope you all had a great day because you deserve it and yeah byeee

Colin is in Kamala's house...more specifically Amir's old room...her and her family had been kind enough to offer him a place to stay, he smiled softly as he woke up...his first time in a real bed in months...he got up and took a nice warm shower...it was nice...the first he had taken in a while...then he went back to Amir's old room and opened his bag.

He wasn't really enrolled in any high schools so he just tinkered...building his latest gadgets...not fully knowing if anyone was there, he set a Nokia he had modified down, turning on some music..."lose yourself" by Eminem and he began to work...objects floating around him, he used his mutation to begin to tinker, assembling various pieces of the contraption as his mind wandered...to Kamala..."s-she's nice...a-and pretty...and talking to her is incredible..." he thought before stopping "w-wait...w-we just met I-I can't like her...right?" he though...a small blush appearing on his face as he continued to work.

he worked for a couple of hours...not fully knowing if anyone else was home...just tinkering, building gadgets and tech in that room, listening to music as he did so...

Darwin is in his room studying for future teaching. he this year will teach animal handling and AP Sharpshooting for those with aim based powers.

He goes to the school gun range grabs a revolver and fires

BANG

CRACK!?

Darwin's head snaps to the side as the bullet ricochets making a nearby student faint as half of darwin's head turns into rock and spits the bullet out.

Darwin then walks to the pet area and feeds the animals as His arm is bit down on by a rhino and his arm turns to rock as well with a bit of Shocky electricity.

So defeated he goes back to his dorm chilling.

OOC: Interact if you are a X-Man or a young hero

“Why is he so cute?”

It’s the only thought running through Kamala’s head as she tears through Jersey City, bouncing from rooftop to rooftop and dealing with the latest batch of supervillain nonsense.

Usually, Kamala would be talking. She'd be making jokes, throwing out terrible superhero puns, maybe giving a villain a dramatic lecture about the consequences of their actions.

Today? Nothing.

Her mind keeps wandering back to Colin. The way he smiled. The way he looked at her. The fact that he was actually staying with her family now. She'd spent the entire afternoon trying to focus on hero work and failing spectacularly.

She shakes her head, trying to snap herself out of it as the Inventor's drones swarm around her.

“Can we hurry this up? I’ve got somewhere to be in like, an hour.”

The Inventor barely has time to respond before Kamala's fist suddenly grows.

And grows.

And grows.

WHAM.

Her embiggened hand slams directly into the Inventor's face—or, more accurately, his face and most of his upper torso.

“Sorry, Tom!”

She shrinks her hand back down, grabs him by the back of his armor, and casually tosses him toward the police waiting nearby.

“Have fun explaining that one!”

With the fight finally over, Kamala doesn't even stick around for the usual congratulations. She waves quickly to the officers before immediately taking off.

One rooftop. Two. Three.

She stretches her arm across an alleyway, swings herself around a water tower, and lands on another building before launching herself toward home.

“Okay. Don't be weird, Kamala.”

By the time she reaches her house, she's practically vibrating with excitement. She slips through her bedroom window, lands quietly on the floor, and immediately pulls off her mask.

“Okay…”

She looks at herself in the mirror, fixes her hair, and takes a deep breath.

“Just act normal…”