The Ultimate Marvel Roleplaying Universe (IC)

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Rachel Summers, lightblue
She stared at the ceiling, couldn't sleep, and was better than four days since she returned from Alaska. There she couldn't find anything, just nothing, no source and no evidence of what might happen to her parents. Rachel blinked a few times and jumped out of bed, had a messy hair and dark circles under her eyes. She walked aimless in her room and stopped in front of the mirror, it began to crack little by little and boom, the glass seems to have exploded in a way or another and scratched her right check. She wore a white shirt with a rage meme print and a pair of dark jeans.
She left her room, the hallway was empty, soulless almost, and only whispers could be heard. Slowly she began to feel empty and hopeless, maybe even lost. She left the institute barefoot and began to walk aimless down the street. The city was alive, in fact was New York, a city that was always busy, maybe forever busy. The shimmering lights of the magazines catch her attention from time to time; every sound was a simple buzzing in her ears. Stared at the big screen from the company, she assumed that was Daily Bugle because the news were about Spider-Man, most of them and others. Rachel didn't bother to listen and began to walk again, people began to stare at her, and her soulless eyes were empty, with no licker of being alive.
After a long walk she felt exhausted and stopped near a park, she sat on a bench and only stared at her feet, were dirty and began to bleed slowly; she didn't feel anything regardless of the way it looked. "Maybe is time to search them by myself? Or to ask for someone help? Uhhh…" She thought angry while she passed her through her red hair. To distract herself Rachel began to play with a flower that she found near the bench, thinking at hat possibilities she might have.
​
 
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Tony didn't even attempt to hold back a snicker. The way Howard spoke didn't bother him in the slightest, unlike it might with other people; in fact, he found it quite amusing. "Good. Keep me updated, Howard," Tony instructed absently. He had already set to work on running through all the info S.H.I.E.L.D had provided him, though, had yet to find much helpful material. So, while still glancing through the given Intel, he waited as patiently as he could for updates from the D.U.C.C. By this point, it seemed he was no longer paying the Captain any mind. He was too into his work, for that.
 
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Frank had been following Electro and Thousand for several blocks now. He had been there when the Spider was smacked all over the place. Beating up kids wasn't something he took kindly to. Especially since this group already had quite a bloody past, anyways; this was just one more reason to kill them. It wasn't hard to keep up with the two. Electro stood out like a sore thumb when he traveled, and Frank's van stayed just far enough back to avoid detection.

When Electro finally did stop, and Thousand formed, he got out a ways down the block to see what they were doing, raising a large rifle to look down its scope at them. A woman near-by screamed and got out her phone. Frank didn't care. He saw Electro enter an electronics store, while Thousand stood guard outside. He was starting to squeeze the trigger, the gun pointed at Electro's head, when he felt a rather shaky gun pressed to his back. Peering over his shoulder, he saw a middle-aged police officer practically shaking in his boots. The gun went off anyways, though, the bullet grazing Electro's head. The force was enough to send him staggering, but it didn't do much more than that to the villain.

The police officer shouted at him, "Put the gun down! Now!" To which Frank responded by swinging around, knocking the man's aim away before slamming his fist into his temple. Frank hated to hurt police officers, but he often didn't have a choice. He grunted slightly, turning around. He saw that the two were gone, though, and he cursed. Frank hopped into his van, following the still indiscreet Electro at now break-neck speeds.
 
Director Rogers left Stark to his own devices in the lab, seeing that the master engineer was well within his own playground at this point. As he made his way back to the Helicarrier's bridge, his earpiece woke up.

"Director, we've picked up reports on the locations of Electro and Thousand." It was Maria Hill.

"Give me the sit-rep," he replied.

"They're at an electronics store at 96th and Madison."

There was a hint of grimness in her tone, a reluctance that set Rogers' hairs on end. "There's something else, isn't there, Hill?"

Stony silence. Then, "Frank Castle is in pursuit."

Rogers' blood turned to ice. "Oh damn it," he groaned quietly. He had never met the war vet before, but he had certainly read up on his dossier.

Frank Castle, codename The Punisher. A combat veteran with a kill count most supervillains would balk at and a service record that was very nearly as robust as Rogers' own. Nick Fury had thought the man too wild of a card, too loose of a cannon to approach for the Avengers Initiative, and Rogers wholeheartedly agreed. Castle was all vengeance, all anger, and he would mete out punishment in his own bloody brand. And he had the skill to back it up. Castle was one of only a handful of soldiers on a very short list that would have replaced Captain America, had the Super Soldier Serum been successfully replicated.

And that loose cannon is in New York hunting the Synthetic Seven.

Rogers altered his route through the Helicarrier, moving toward the launch bays.

"Hill, I'm going down there."

"What?" came the astonished reply. "No you're not, Rogers! We have a tac team for that--"

"A tac team that will get annihilated if they go up against Castle. We need the Synthetic Seven alive for interrogation. If Castle kills them, then we lose some potential leads. We need to get him to stand down. And if things get ugly, at least I have a chance of going toe toe with him."

By now, Rogers had reached the launch bay and strapped himself into a one-man drop pod, a rapid-insertion unit used for getting behind enemy lines quickly.

"...But you're not Captain America anymore, remember?"

"...Keep a lookout on me. Rogers out."
 
Frank followed the electrical surges for a while, though he knew it was purposeless; there was no way Electro was coming out, now. Despite this, his expression never changed. He, as always, bore a look of grim determination as he resumed the hunt. This wouldn't end well; either for him, or his targets. Next time, though, he wouldn't miss. He continued to floor it, swerving in between cars and around pedestrians as people scrambled to get out of his way. That is, until Electro popped out and fired a powerful surge into his van.

For a moment, all Frank was aware of was the screeching tires, a flurry of images, and a deafening crash. The shock had caused the brakes to suddenly lock, making him lose control and slam into the side of a nearby, parked taxi. When he did come to his senses, he heard, "There's no way he's still alive. I got him! I got the Punisher!"

He was acutely aware of a shard of glass buried in his shoulder, and a few broken ribs. He'd fought with worse injuries, though. He drew his pistol and stepped out, leveling it at Electro. The man froze in terror.
 
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Just above the rapidly-escalating firefight between Castle and Electro came the sound of the air screaming as a drop pod barreled through the skies. The metal cylinder slammed into the concrete with a loud crash, immediately catching everyone's attention.

The pod door suddenly burst open and a red-and-white disc flung forth.

It slammed first into Castle's hand, knocking the vigilante's aim just enough that his shot hit the ground instead of flesh. Then the disc rebounded and slammed into Electro's face, knocking him down for a moment. Finally, the spinning weapon returned to the drop pod, or more specifically, its master.


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"That will be quite enough of that."

Director Rogers stepped out of the drop pod, taking position at the apex of triangle made up of him, Castle, and Electro, who was just getting back on his feet with lightning sparking around him.

"I'd stay down if I were you, son," Rogers told him sternly. He turned toward Castle. "And you, I need Electro alive, soldier. This is SHIELD business."

He could see the other two steeling themselves for round two. Rogers let out a slow breath and readied his shield, hoping this would not explode into an all-out street battle. He waited for them to make the next move.
 
(Gonna move Electro out of here for now so you guys can interact together)​

Electro revved up his electrical charge, smiling at Punisher as he got up. Despite having feared the vigilante, Electro knew he had to make a quick getaway. He was getting too careless, he should've gone into the sewers along with the other three. If he was going to escape quickly, he needed to tone down the static from his powers. But he needed to stop and grab these miscellaneous electronics. A bunch of cellphones, a portable camera, DVD players, even an old VHS, and wires for almost every kind of device. Being an ex-OSCORP employee, Max Dillion knew exactly what these things could and eventually would be used for: spare parts. They needed every last one of the stolen goods for what they planned. While they hadn't acquired the Doctor just yet, Electro used his knowledge of mechanics and computer systems to model the design and make sure it would work no matter what. He even plotted a special "Spider Protocol" into the design just in case a certain web-head wanted to pop by.

Just as Electro was about to fry Frank again, a circular shield came out of nowhere and hit him in the head. After a few moments to recover from the blow, Electro looked at Captain America and growled. "Great, another frickin super soldier." the supervillain hissed as the two seemed to interact with each other. As he looked towards Captain America and listened to him demand he remain still, Electro only smirked. By his side, Thousand quickly assembled itself back into human form and grabbed the bag carrying the electronics from Electro. "Sorry, Cap, but we've got better things to do then screw around with you guys." said Electro before he grabbed a cellphone from the bag and tossed it towards Cap, filling it with his electricity. As the phone landed, the massive surge of power within burst from the device and sent a shock wave through the ground where Cap and Frank were standing. It would've been a minor shock, not much more then 40 volts: enough to make their bodies stiff with pain.

As the electrical blast went off, Electro and Thousand made their escape. Jumping back into the streetlights, Electro made sure to leave no trace of static behind him so they couldn't be tracked. Thousand, however, crumbled back into its spider-swarm form and rapidly dragged the individual items into the sewer, making sure not to break anything as they tumbled in. Unbeknownst to the Captain or Frank, the two villains were rapidly making their way towards the buildings lined up along the Hudson River.
 
"What do you mean there was a hiccup? No. No, listen. It has to be that material. Well, call Patrick and remind him of his Spring line in thirteen. He'll know what I mean. I want the new gown finished by this evening," Janet said into her phone from the backseat of the company Rolls.

Two video screens, each positioned behind the front seats, displayed separate news channels, one local news feed and the other a world news program with a ticker displaying the latest stock info. It was the local news station that reported on the attack on Spider-Man first.

Jan sat stunned, her voice trailed off as her attention became completely focused upon the screen. Spider-Man was easily one of the most readily recognizable heroes in the city and a hero whom Jan looked up to. He was out there doing what needed to be done, regardless of the critics and opponents. Maybe he was in it for the glory, but there was hardly any glory in being beaten publicly. It was fairly obvious that these people were trying to kill him, and it was a testament to Spidey's fortitude that he kept getting up. There was no wonder that the people of New York City idolized him.

Jan didn't wait to see if Spider-Man could pull off the win. She dug out her Wasp costume from the small hole in her ring and, with a thought, Janet began to shrink. Her clothing pooled about her as her size continued to decrease. A moment later she tunneled through the sea of garments, found her costume, and slipped it on. By the time she was flying out of the black luxury car's window, the news was reporting that S.H.I.E.L.D. was on the scene.

The driver was an older man, possibly in his early fifties, and had been Janet's personal driver for the last four years. He had become accustomed to her multitasking and spontaneity. He had even grown accustomed to her heroic activities. So, when the rear window cracked and the heiress disappeared from the backseat he simply and quietly wished her luck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Janet wasn't exactly sure how long it had taken her to get to The Treskelion Institute, but she had to have made good time, better than by car, at least. She had flown as The Wasp does, after all.

For the most part, Janet had avoided the carnage the Synthetic Seven had caused when they had escaped. She wasn't a fan of dead bodies, and while she had eavesdropped upon some of the wounded, it had quickly become apparent that they had simply responded to the alarm and knew little more than that. After that, The Wondrous Wasp had taken her investigation into the prison.

Barely a half inch tall, Janet was acting like a fly on the wall. She wanted to hear what the police had discovered without announcing herself. What's more, she wanted to learn how the Synthetic Seven came together and eventually escaped, and if there were any other super-villains who planned to follow in their footsteps.

The warden's office seemed like the most logical place to find answers. The locked door presented very little challenge for someone of her size. She had simply crawled through the space between the door and the floor. The obstacles within the room were much greater, avoiding the warden's cameras, but specifically the challenge of logging onto the warden's computer and accessing the files on the Synthetic Seven.
 
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Smiling as she took the bait, Peter raised his hands defensively and entered the building. "Nice place, design it yourself?" joked Peter as he adjusted his glasses. With a grin, he took a seat at one of the various booths scattered around the club. Watching as she sat down in the chair opposite of him, Peter smiled and grabbed his shawarma, slowly chewing it up as he looked at her. Laura was such an odd girl. He knew that she was 16 and hated nearly everybody their age, but the reasons for why she had this hatred, he never understood. His eyes darted towards the television set hanging behind the bar, which had been turned on along with the rest of the power. Displayed on the screen, was the image of Spider-Man brawling with the Seven. Wincing in pain at each impact he revisited, Peter gestured towards the TV and cleared his throat. "Wow, look at that Spider-Man, huh? I mean, seven bad guys and he makes it out all in one piece? Man, he, or she, must really be durable. It sucks that those creeps got away though. Doesn't help that SHIELD's trying to cover up the scene either... What do you think about it, Laura? I mean, Spider-Man in general."
 
[fieldbox=X-23, red, solid]
Laura simply rolled her eyes at Peter as he walked in, adjusting his glasses. He grinned all goofy like usual and she shakes her head slightly, chewing her large bite of shawarma still. How he manages to smile all the time, she's still not sure but the quality is admirable she supposed. She watched his eyes wander to the screen at the bar. It usually played football games, but she'd switched it t the news to keep herself updated today. It came to no surprise that they were still playing the Spider-Man footage. Peter winced at the blows the hero was dealt and she presumed it was out of sympathy. Poor guy got his butt kicked badly. And the nerdy Peter is definitely interested. Which of course does not surprise Laura. Nothing really does these days.

Peter gestured to the fight and for once, she didn't have much of a problem giving her opinion to him. She took a deep breath, swallowed her food and furrowed her eyebrows for a moment. Under the delicious smell of food, there was something odd. Uncommon. She narrowed her eyes and watched Peter closely, deciding to ask about it after she gave him an answer.

"In general...well, I know for a fact that he's not a girl, Peter. No girl would allow herself to be called Spider-Man. Heh...anyway, I guess he's uh..kinda necessary..I mean, it's not like the police do enough around here that New York wouldn't be dust without it's uh...heroes. Hm. The only thing I don't get is why he does it though. I mean, technically, no one here is worth saving in the grand scale of things. New York's destruction would hardly make a dent in the world population and his saving everyone is altruistic and sweet I guess, but in the end..." She shrugs, annoyed that she's let herself get so morbid now. She should stop. Yeah. "Whatever. Anyway, I'm just wondering here, but uh, why do you have sand in your hair?" The brunette leaned forward and ruffled up his hair with her hand, watching the sand particles fall off, sometimes into his shawarma. "What'd you do?" She furrowed her brow and and pulled her hand back to take another bite of her food. As much as she wanted to swallow it all now like a snake, she knew she should savor it. Stuff this good doesn't come often.[/fieldbox]
 
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Frank was about to respond when Electro's little grenade went off. He spasmed slightly, before growling in anger. Before he could fire, though, Electro was gone. His eyes turned to Cap, narrowing in silent anger. It seemed as though he was sizing the soldier up. Finally, he spoke. "I'm not going to stop." He started backing towards his van, raising his gun. He was analyzing Cap's movements, taking in his previous knowledge of the man, to predict the best place to put the first shot, should it be necessary.

Standing with his back to the Battlevan, now, he waited to see what Cap would do. "These people deserve to die." He reached into his bag slowly, grabbing a flashbang grenade, just in case.
 
"These people deserve to die."

Castle moved like a predatory cat toward his Battlevan, a flashbang in hand. Every muscle was tensed in readiness and Rogers could see every contraction. The vigilante was a time bomb waiting to go off. He had to difuse this, now.

"I'm not going to say you're wrong about that, Castle," Rogers said evenly, not making any sudden movements. The last thing he wanted was for the Punisher to go on a wild warpath on him, endangering any civilians in the area. From what he had read on the man, Castle avoided civilian casualties, but a fight between the Punisher and the former Captain America had serious potential to escalate beyond anything either of them could control. "And frankly, I'm not here to debate superhero morality with you. I want your gunfight off the streets. SHIELD's got this. There's something else going on in the background. Something bigger than you or me. Someone got those seven supervillains out for a reason. If you go into this half-cocked, a lot of people are going to get hurt."

Rogers holstered his vibranium shield on a rig at his back, deliberately leaving himself open.

"I'm not your enemy, Castle. Don't become mine."
 
"People get hurt because S.H.I.E.L.D. and its lackeys don't do anything about these villains before it's too late." He didn't holster his gun. "These men should be dead. Not in prison." He had already thought that, chances were, these people were working for someone else. He was going to live one or two of them alive to figure out what. The van was heavily damaged. It was still running, though. If Frank could avoid it, he was going to try not to lose the van's contents. Keeping the gun leveled at Cap's head, he opened the passenger side door. "I'm not stopping," He repeated. The pistol clicked quietly as he turned the safety on to show he wasn't going to shoot. "So stay out of my way." He got into the passenger side of the van and moved across to the driver's seat.
 
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Rogers let out a breath slowly as Castle drove away.

"Director? What's your status down there?" Maria Hill's voice patched through to his ear piece.

He tapped it with a finger. "We've averted one potential firefight with Castle, but Electro and Thousand are still on the loose. Looks like keeping tabs on them now is pretty much a wash. I'll need transport to return to base."

"You might want to change your mind after you hear what D.U.C.C.'s found at the Treskelion Institute...."

Rogers raised an eyebrow at that. "Go on..."

MEANWHILE, AT THE TRESKELION INSTITUTE

Howard the D.U.C.C. treaded through the wreckage of the supermax prison, where security wounded personnel and medical teams littered the hallways in the wake of the Synthetic Seven's assault. Thus far, the drone had yet to pick up any data that would help with figuring out who arranged for the break out.

The drone was finishing his sweep of the administration building when his sensory array picked up an unusual life signature, one that was minuscule in size but did not register as any form of commonplace vermin. Howard wheeled his way toward it, heading for the warden's office. As he entered, he got a visual of the intruder.

"FACIAL RECOGNITION...MATCH FOUND: THE WASP. GREETINGS, TINY MEATBAG."
 
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Peter casually ate as she spoke about Spider-Man. Bringing up the point that no woman would allow themselves to be called "Man", Peter shrugged. "We don't know that. Maybe he or she wants to keep things even more mysterious." Peter explained with a wink, taking another bite out of his shawarma. His snack was almost done, but he would wait for Laura to finish her meal. Then, he would go back into the streets. The Seven needed to be found. Peter knew first hand how dangerous each of these OSCORP-made psychopaths could be. Hell, even fighting them alone was dangerous. When he fought against Electro before sending the criminal to the Treskelion, Max almost levelled Times Square with just the power in his body alone. Thankfully, a firefighter team was standing on call nearby, allowing Spider-Man to literately short circuit Electro before his rampage destroyed the city. The firefighters even let him wear the cool hat. Out of all the rogues in the Seven, Electro was the one Peter was most worried about. Max Dillion wasn't a bad guy, he was just seriously misunderstood. Nobody could've seen he had severe self-identity issues. Hell, nobody even saw him. That is, until Spider-Man came along. Peter still felt regret for what had transpired that fateful day. What he had said:

"Listen, Max. I need you. We're partners. You're my eyes and ears out here, man!"

It was just something he told all of the citizens he met. In a way, it was true. Peter did need civilians to help him out in certain situations. The people of New York kept him updated on current events, told him where any suspicious activity may have been seen, they even occasionally led him directly to various crimes and crime scenes. Not that he didn't have his own contacts as Spider-Man, ranging from reporter Whitney Chang, to even the current chief of police after George Stacy's death at the hands of the Lizard. But Peter never expected that those simple words of encouragement to a random citizen would result in quite that severe of an obsession. Gwen said that Max loved Spider-Man and thought of him like his best friend. When the accident occurred and Electro was first released upon the city, Peter didn't recognize him at all. That is, until Max began to explain who he was, which only ended in the police shooting at him. Feeling betrayed and humiliated by Spider-Man, Max went on a rampage. Despite having ended the conflict and prevented the city's destruction, Peter still felt horrible about what happened to Max. However, he put innocent lives in danger with his electrified rampage, and for that fact alone, Spider-Man had to stop him.

While his thoughts dwelled on how he could try and locate the Synthetic Seven before they struck again, Laura asked him why he had sand in his hair. Quickly popping back into the real world, Peter raised a shocked eyebrow and adjusted his glasses. "Oh, um... Well, Mr. Jameson told me to get some pictures of the fight for the Bugle. I was in the middle of things and I guess some of the debris got on me." Peter explained casually, shrugging off her question. Along with sand in his hair, his hair was also a bit soggy and he was covered in bruises, bug bites/stings and a few burn marks. It was clear he had been in the middle of the action, but nothing suggested he was anything more then an observer. He wasn't bleeding (anymore) and nearly all signs of trauma were easily concealed beneath his clothes. "Let me tell you, if you want the good photos you've gotta jump right into the action. Even though Jameson pays me diddly squat, I can still make a couple of bucks with really good photos."

(Expect a Synthetic Seven post later on).
 
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[fieldbox=X-23, red, solid]
Laura rolls her eyes at his first winking remark about 'Spider-woman' and gets about halfway through her food at a decent pace. There's just no way that skin-tight suit could hide a woman's body under it. Other than that, she was somewhat glad he didn't decide to comment on her spiel about why Spider-Man does what he does. If he was even listening. Peter, she's noticed seems kinda spacey sometimes. So when he returned to earth, adjusting his glasses, he reminded the brunette of his job at the Daily Bugle. You know, for someone who seems like a believer of the good in the mutant Spider-Man, he works for one of the worst papers to slander the 'hero'. Seems way too dangerous a job for her nerdy acquaintance. He smells funny besides the sand too, which makes her wonder if he really got hurt out there, but if she asks too much, she'll be giving away strangeness about why she'd know to ask. Which she can't answer honestly. Though the mutant teen is a good liar, she doesn't like to be dishonest if she can help it, so since he seems fine, she doesn't push it.

"Peter, you really should quit that job. Jameson is abusing you for photos that are way too hazardous to acquire. You're going to hurt yourself one of these days and for what? A worthless paper that spends its time making up stupid slanderous titles for the hero you seem to adore? I mean, don't you have any self-respect? I bet you could make way more than diddly squat anywhere else, if you really want to keep putting yourself at risk out there." Yeah sure, Laura is a bit of a worrier, but hey, she doesn't have too many people to care about so what do you expect? Actually, Peter is pretty much the only person she cares enough about to want to keep safe or at least tell him to be careful. It may seem somewhat nagging, but it's her way of showing honest concern. From her, it shouldn't be taken lightly.
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Janet was still trying to hack into the warden's computer when the door began to open. She hid behind the warden's coffee cup and waited for the person to enter the room. If it was the warden she could possibly watch him login, wait until he left, and then use his password to access the files she was after.

The miniature woman was dumbfounded when a robotic construct that reminded Jan of a tank, or a duck, or a tank that wanted to be a duck. Janet wondered if she had triggered a silent alarm or had inadvertently summoned security. The drone seemed to know who she was, at least, her codename.

She stepped out from behind the coffee mug with a look, as if she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, plastered upon her face, held her left hand up, and gave the drone a tiny finger wave. "Hello, duck-tank thing."

Janet didn't mind being called meatbag. It was actually kind of amusing and it reminded her of something she'd seen some years back.

"Guess I'm busted, huh?"
 
As Frank drove away, he was already forming his next plan. It would take as long as it needed; he needed to learn everything he could about the villains. Most importantly, he needed to learn where they were hiding. So he began to gather intelligence on the group. He asked people who had seen the people first hand. Read articles on them. He also went wherever the group did, establishing patterns for the individual members. Now, it came down to him determining where people like this would hide. Already having an idea, he investigated it, only to find no sign of a group of people hiding there. For a while now, he'd be none-to-covertly investigating former villain hide-outs and new ones, oftentimes killing the new residents if they were known scum. He left a bloody trail in his wake. The hunt was on.
 
"Hello, duck-tank thing. Guess I'm busted, huh?"

"AFFIRMATIVE, TINY MEATBAG. AGAIN, SALUTATIONS. THIS UNIT IS A DEADLY UNIVERSAL COMPUTERIZED COMPANION, SHIELD DRONE, DESIGNATION: HOWARD THE D.UC.C." Howard's voicebox spoke in its cheerful monotone. Still cheerfully, it more ominously continued, "PLEASE EXPLAIN YOUR INTRUSION INTO THE WARDEN'S OFFICE. THIS SITE HAS BEEN COMPROMISED DUE TO THE RECENT TERRORIST ATTACK BY THE NEFARIOUS MEATBAGS KNOWN AS 'THE SYNTHETIC SEVEN.' TINY MEATBAG DOES NOT SEEM TO HAVE CLEARANCE TO BE HERE."

Suddenly, the drone began emitting an all-too fearsome noise. The sound of multiple heavy firearms reloading.

"ASSUMPTION: TINY MEATBAG IS ONE OF THE EMBLEMATIC EIGHT. PLEASE SURRENDER, TINY MEATBAG."

Back on the streets of New York, Director Rogers was now directly patched to Howard's communications through his ear piece. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance and quickly spoke into his comm, broadcasting his voice through Howard's onboard speakers.

"D.U.C.C. stand down. Designate the Wasp as friendly on your friend-or-foe. Janet? Its Steve. Sorry about that - D.U.C.C.'s one of Tony's toys. What're you doing down at the Treskelion, anyway?"
 
Rachel Summers, lightblue
She lifted her head from the ground and stared at the sky. Hated the idea of doing nothing, but at the same time she had nothing to do, what she could do when there were no evidence of what happened to her parents. So somehow she felt that everything was in vain, but her ego didn't let her fall into this pit of despair. Rachel stood up and dusted her pants, with a desire that burst in her chest was ready to do something, even if it means to start from the bottom. She was ready to create a plan, a plan where she could make a great use of the advanced technology, well, based on some exchanges, she gets the information and will give help.

She sketched a smile and began to roam on New York streets, for the beginning she will just wait for the Seven bad guys to make a move so she could pose in the "accidentally passing by person with power who randomly decided to help", truly speaking, how bad can it look ? She wasn't one of the most smart hero, nor stupid to be easily tricked, but now she believed that her plan was quite good.

She radiate at her own thoughts, as her speed increased she bumped into someone. She lost her balance and fell on her back. "Ouch ....." She rubbed her head and puts aside her curls that fell on her face, lost in her thoughts Rachel forgot that on the streets were other people beside her, she looked up and gesture an ok sign with her right hand. "I am sorry, I forgot that there were other people on the street beside me." She spoke as she looked at the person she bumped into it.
 
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