Shit finally hit the fan, and we got covered in it.
I knew this was gonna happen. All of these targeted attacks, heading for well-populated areas, we weren't gonna catch each and every last one of 'em. No one has that kind of power, not even a God. We're just one team. A big fuckin' team, but we can't be everywhere. Sooner or later we were gonna miss one.
Just our luck, it was Stamford.
Six hundred people dead. Almost a hundred of 'em were kids. That ain't counting the injured, or the property damage. I saw the mess with my own eyes. I smelled the ashes, the death that hung in the air. We tried to do our part to fix things up, to somehow apologize for this fuckin' mess. They don't need an apology. That's not gonna tuck 'em into bed at night when they think about their kid incinerating or being buried in the remains of the family home that has stood longer than they have.
I told Stark that he shoulda seen this comin'. He did, but he didn't take the steps to prevent it. Typical. That's the attitude of the day, ain't it? We know that a society run on celebrity mishaps, diet soda, and mindless entertainment ain't gonna last. What do we do when we see the city burning around us?
We grab a fiddle and head for the hills, unable to cope any other way.
But that ain't me.
I cope by sinkin' my claws into the mother-fuckers responsible. Lucky for me, the asshole that blew up Stamford is common knowledge. Nitro. I told Stark while he was drinkin' his troubles away that I was going to kill the son-of-a-bitch, and I wasn't kiddin'. He knows I don't joke around, and didn't try to stop me. Deep down, he wants Nitro dead too. I could smell it, past the alcohol. He just doesn't want to dirty those rich little hands.
So, now I'm on the road, trackin' down clues. Couldn't follow the bastard's scent. Too many other ones, stronger. I heard from a somewhat reputable source of mine that Nitro hauled ass into the back of a truck and tried to make himself scarce. I ain't a detective, but I know plenty of 'em. My nights have been spent in seedy bars and alley-ways, but that ain't nothin' different.
Funny thing happened one afternoon. Was drinking a beer, tryin' to beat out my healin' factor, watchin' the boob tube over a sweaty guy's head down the bar-line. A lady who lost her kid in the incident was drummin' up a rally so prestigious that they even got Cap himself to speak. 'Cept that wasn't who I was watchin'.
I was watchin' my clone, and somehow, she was lookin' right back at me with the stare I know too well.
For once in a long while since the mess began, I cracked a grin. Looks like hatin' Scott Summers and bein' locked up in the Xavier Mansion was hard-written into my DNA. What was she doin' there, exactly? Lookin' for me?
She of all people should know by now, I don't do public appearances.
One of my contacts finally turned up the truck company that carted my target away from the scene of the crime. I broke into their New York headquarters and started doin' some pokin' of my own. Threatened a few guys to death, barked and waved the claws, but eventually got enough to start tracking 'im across the country.
Before I left, I made sure Summers knew where I was goin', and what I was plannin' to do. Half-Pint met me at the door, goin' on about this great plan she had to partner up with Stark. Personally, I think the girl had another partnership in mind. Either way, the meetin' didn't go well. Slim made his case about not wantin' to get involved with this bill and stayin' on the fence, and I ignored him. Emma threatened to wipe my mind, but even she ain't brave enough to start workin' through my head.
On my motorcycle, I had the weirdest feelin' in my gut. Things are movin' in ways that they shouldn't, and somethin' messy is just peakin' over the horizon. 'Cept I'm gonna be the one to find out who's behind all of this, and sink my claws in. Deep.
((Hey there! This entry summarizes the events of the third and fourth session's of the game. It was not written between since the events ran together and our favorite feral mutant wouldn't have had the time to sit down and write introspectively! Enjoy!
Entry 3:
It's three in the mornin' and the only thing I can do to try and find some solace is write in this fuckin' journal.
I don't dream anymore. When the eyelids shut and sleep paralysis sets into my adamantium laced bones, a dark figure sits me next to an ancient film projector in a shadowy room. Try as I might, I can't get up, can't shut my eyes. The figure steps into the light on the screen. Sometimes it's Victor. Sometimes it's Mystique... Maybe it's always Mystique? Doesn't matter.
"Which film shall we watch tonight, Logan?" they say in the most irritating tone possible, "The one where you murder Itsu? A classic. If you're in the mood for romance, we could watch some Mariko. Maybe more Jeanie? Ah, but we watch those a little too often, don't you think? We could always play the bloody murder reel..."
Somethin' inside me is trying to stir up the guilt from a life of murder, and despite every attempt I make to keep a gruff exterior, it's startin' to work. I've ruined families, ended lives for no better reason than someone told me to do it, or I was lost in a rage. Every time I decide to make things better, to strive to fix some of the damage I've done, somethin' drags me right back down to my old ways.
That's why I can't be an Avenger.
We had a meetin', somethin' about a revision of the Mutant Registration Act that is gonna effect all of the other freaks of nature and vigilantes that put on tights and try to save the world. Stark wanted to present a unified front, under his own idealism, about the superhuman community tryin' to police itself. Some of the guys there even had the nerve to offer up the X-Mansion as a school for new recruits. Shows how ignorant they are about the livin' Hell we're goin' through over there.
There will be no more mutants. Every mutant that's left, whether they like it or not, has to be cooped up on school grounds, livin' out in tents like a fuckin' reservation. Charles is gone. Scott doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. Sentinels march around the grounds. The last thing we need are some two-bit amateurs walking in with big smiles ready to learn from a dying race.
Stark proposed an internal affairs branch of our... organization, and put up Carol to be in charge of that. Turns out we needed it faster than we ever would have thought. The Crusader shows up at the Avengers mansion with a Shi'ar bomb, guarded on all sides by Purifiers. My blood was boilin' to see those sons of bitches crawl out from the wood work, but I wasn't the only one.
Things go about as expected, with Stark and Banner disarming the bomb and the rest of us fending off the crazed religious fanatics. 'Cept Moon Knight was after some blood, and crippled Crusader. Slashed him right in the spine. If the poor sod lives, he'll be spendin' the rest of his life in a wheelchair, or worse. They clap him in irons and send him off to prison.
I can't be an Avenger, because before you know it, I'll be right in the next cell. I've killed, as an Avenger. Ended the life of Griffin in our first breakout fiasco, and no one cared then. Even though that was a wake-up call, what's to say my berserker rage won't lead me to that place again? My anger is welling up, and I'm liable to burst.
Hopped on my motorcycle afterward to help Stark present his case in front of Congress. Someone had to represent the mutants, but unfortunately, the conversation never turned in that direction. Instead, Dr. Doom is showin' footage of the lot of us tearin' through Doombots and Latverians on behalf of Colonel Nick Fury. Just like my dreams, there I am again, killin', and I can't help but watch.
Things didn't turn out so bad. Congress seemed impressed with Murdock's knowledge of law and the way we handled the Spector debacle earlier. Earned us a man on our side. 'Cept, what's one voice among the majority? Usually, jack-shit.
Next, I was sent to testify for the character of Luke Cage, who was accused of murdering some of the Purifiers, according to a pretty obviously doctored bit of footage. For some Goddamn reason, someone thought it was a good idea to bring in Marc Spector to testify. The bastard got away, after makin' a pretty solid point that the Avengers are a bunch of incompetent assholes. Apparently, someone hasn't let Konshu know that I'm the best there is at what I do, and what I do isn't very nice.
Then the press showed up, and by this point, I was pissed. Really pissed. These assholes are never too far behind when controversial shit goes down. They don't learn. Apparently, a well placed 'go fuck yourself' doesn't send the message. I trashed some equipment, grabbed my bike, and went to a dirty pub somewhere to try the nightly game of tryin' to out-drink my healing factor.
I lost.
My gut is tellin' me that there's something goin' on beyond just a bunch of random events. If anyone knows about conspiracies, it's me. I've been the instrument of more of 'em than I can count on my claws. Someone's trying to strike while the iron is hot, taking down the community through the system. Worst part? One of the smartest men in the world is missin' it, too absorbed by tryin' to run his little band of kids playin' cops and robbers.
I'll let him know. I'll tell him when I resign.
For now, gonna sit on the couch with a beer and watch the news until I fall asleep from boredom. Not like anything news worthy happens in this country anymore.
((What was Wolverine doing during the last session of Civil War? Let's find out!))
Entry 2:
Had to head back to Oklahoma. Seems that guard detail was still needed around there after the Doom incident. Don't blame the egg-heads for gettin' a little jumpy, especially with that sword of death just standin' around, waitin' for some bastard worth his shit to pull it out of the ground.
Personally, I leave the thinkin' for the brainiacs unless I'm put in some kind of leadership position, and who would be so empty-headed as to allow that? Knowin' SHIELD, they rounded up the usual subjects. Stretch. Stark. Strange. Not to mention McCoy, the better of the two genius Hanks that I know. So, after all of that business was taken care of, I went back to the mansion with 'im.
Y'see, Hank and I have an understandin'. Both of us walk on the wild side, whether or not McCoy likes to admit it half the time. Even if we don't see eye to eye on almost everythin', there's that mutual respect factor goin' that transcends any science bullshit you can spout out. It's somethin' you feel deep down in your gut.
'Course, as soon as I step through the doors, Slim pulls me aside for a chat with his half-naked resident psychic followin' behind. Wonder how he'd feel if I told him that Tony Stark claimed that territory before? Cyke had better get himself checked. Anyhow, Scott expressed his opinion on my charming reaction to the press. Needless to say, he wasn't too happy about it, for the same reason I was bustin' my own chops. He wasn't wrong.
But what he needs to understand is that I don't need the lecture. Does he think I don't care about the consequences of what I do? All the people I've killed, families I've ruined... Does he not think that I haven't heard it already, from myself? I've had a lot of shit to sift through ever since M-Day, and it ain't pretty, bub. The last thing I need is some Chuck Xavier hatin', Sentinel allowin', skinny neck of a coward tellin' me I ain't doin' my part to help mutant kind. And I let him know.
My Avengers comm was goin' off, but I ignored it. We've got enough people on our roster, and plenty of adversarial types besides. World ain't gonna end while I spend a few days at the Mansion, runnin' the Danger Room 'til it ain't fun anymore or catchin' up with Half-Pint. Kept my ear to the ground and eye on the news to keep up with the whacky adventures of the World's Mightiest Heroes, and it doesn't look like I missed much. Still, the chance to knock around some Hydra heads would have been satisfyin'. Not very often I get to slice into some crazed techno-nazi cultists, despite what you may think.
Still ain't sure why the team was tryin' to stop Hammerhead from getting a bullet between the eyes. From what I've heard of 'im, he ain't too reputable a guy. Sometimes its best to let these things go and stop tryin' to play hero at the drop of a hat, especially when gangsters are involved. If it wasn't for the life-model decoy bomb shit that threatened the lives of everyone there, that sorta thing don't sound much like Avengers work. Like I said before, the Avengers have changed.
Had lunch with Half-Pint, and now I'm lookin' to make my ride back to the Tower. I don't like sittin' in one place too long. Makes me feel sluggish. Besides, if what I've been hearin' is right, the team's gonna be arguin' some sort of registration act in front of Congress.
Bein' the only mutant on the team, someone's gotta stick up for us, not that this sort of thing hasn't shown up before. We beat it then, we'll beat it now.
Radio has on George Thorogood. Gonna be a good ride.
So, we're here at session two of Civil War, which you can always watch by clicking on the lovely embedded Youtube video here!
However, for those of you who would rather read a moderately sized blog post than sit through about three hours of guys making 'Bro' and 'Hulk' jokes (we'll get there), read on!
Just a reminder of the team we've got in the works here. Every player has two heroes at the moment. Hulk and Daredevil. Thor and Iron Man. Tigra and Ms. Marvel. Moon Knight and Hawkeye. Captain America and Luke Cage. Wolverine and Spider-Woman. Spider-Man and Dr. Strange. One player was absent, so neither Thing nor Yellowjacket will be showing up.
Ready to dive in?
Session Summary:
Things began right about where they left off. The team was in Oklahoma wrapping up the business with the giant, mega-death sword that we protected from Dr. Doom. A few smart guys were called in to find some way to protect and ward it, including Tony and Dr. Strange. A Doom Spiderbot shows up with a message from Doom saying that he wasn't interested in taking it, but in fact was using his army as security. We promptly ignored that noise while Dr. Strange packed a whalloping ward using alliteration (like I just did) to protect the universe-ending weapon.
Being a wonderful time for phone calls, Banner has come to after his lab-smashing rampage in an abandoned military base in New Jersey that is being raided by Hydra forces, and phones for help. Oddly enough, I live near an abandoned military base in New Jersey, so I could have been in some serious trouble here. So, we sent in the team of heroes that everyone didn't have in Oklahoma, Tony and Spider-Man excluded. I spend the rest of this session as Spider-Woman, because Hydra, and stuff.
The action scene begins with Banner rigging up a laser from scattered equipment and shooting a giant robot with it. Yeah, that was bad-ass. Cap throws his mighty shield and messes up before Hawkeye fires in some tear-gas to get the guys in there all dazed and confused. Ms. Marvel decided to attack the giant Hydra transport that was waiting outside.
Now, for those of you not in the know with Spider-Woman, during this time she was a triple agent, working with SHIELD and Hydra and spying on both while relaying all of this information back to Nick Fury. So, that makes anything with Hydra or SHIELD more fun for me. Instead of going in there, guns blazing like everyone else, Spider-Woman nabbed an agent real fast and started to interrogate him on what they were doing there, hoping to help them achieve their objective in the long run to keep up Hydra status.
Before that could bring up any fruit, Spider-Man and Iron Man show up. Spidey webs up one of the giant robots, who was going to target Spider-Woman but didn't... 'Cause stuff! After the Hydra agents rough up some of the team a bit, or try to at least, Iron Man does a mega EMP that takes everyone out. I blame my bad internet during this session on him.
So, SHIELD shows up and cleans up while Cap and Hawkeye high-five the team and have a little banter. Banner hulks out while trying to fix up Spider-Man, which was weird, but why not? Thus began the Hulk jokes, that didn't stop anytime soon. Upon returning to base, the team is given two hooks to nibble upon. The first one is that the government is considering bringing back up the Superhuman Registration Act, which is legislation talking about registering superhumans. The second is that Hammerhead is going to be assassinated after getting off a plane or something? I'm not really sure, since my internet was cutting out during that explanation.
We go for the second option. Ms. Marvel is swapped out for Tigra, and Iron Man is swapped out for Thor. Those who can go incognito do, and we all watch as Hammerhead gets into his limo. Funnily enough, a gang of 'bros' hopped up on Mutant Growth Hormone show up to pull the trigger so to speak. I began the round by having Spider-Woman pump up the pheromones in order to distract them, which didn't work out so hot. Spidey wasn't having a good day, so he swings in and tries to hit a guy, which backfires. Hulk comes in and... Well... Smashes. Thor finishes off the bros by dramatically posing and telling the guys to cut it out.
The bros were soundly defeated!... But, now the limo is going out of control and driving through airport security. Hawkeye tries to shoot the engine out, but misses. But Hawkeye never misse- Oh, wait. That's Bullseye. Oops. Captain America tries to wave the crowd away, with limited success. Finally, Tigra saves the day and pounces the limo, tearing the driver out from the seat, only to find that Hammerhead is a robot with a bomb strapped to him.
Dayum.
Thor takes the bomb into space, and the day is saved! The press is on the outskirts, but we all know how well that played out last time. However, Hulk wants to talk to the press, but we all swiftly convince him not to with promises of a buffet back at Avengers Tower. Food is a powerful motivator. So are pheromones.
Put them together, you get this.
Back at Avengers Tower, we follow up on a few leads based on what's going on. Apparently, the bros were hired by a mysterious hooded figure, who was the same guy who hired the Serpent Society to protect that MGH lab last session. My meta-game knowledge points to 'the Hood', but that's just me. We're also rather baffled by the Hammerhead robot, which turned out to be a life model decoy, which Nick Fury is famous for using.
However, when you want info on the underworld, you can always talk to the Kingpin, so we did. It was fairly simple, since he was in the slammer at this point, so we get a group of like minded individuals... and Hulk... and go have a chat. Captain America dominated the scene with each of us throwing in a fat joke here and there. Turns out the Kingpin has no idea about the life model decoys, or why one was used for Hammerhead. In fact, I can't really remember any solid info that we got out of Marvel's underworld Stay-Puft, but that may be because it's really rather late at the time of my typing this.
We end the session with a congressional hearing looming over our heads. I'm bringing back Wolvie for that one. Someone's gotta stick up for mutant-kind on this team.
My Reactions:
I'll be perfectly honest right out of the gate, this one didn't really zing for me. Not that it was bad, because, when you get right down to it, it wasn't at all. Everyone was laughing and having a good time, and that is the number one priority here. If it isn't fun, then why bother, right? That is my central philosophy when evaluating my own sessions: fun is the number one goal, all the time, every game.
And yes, it was fun.
But something was off with me, big time. I'm not really sure what it was, to be perfectly honest. I wasn't tired. Wasn't sick. I just felt really disconnected to everything for some weird reason that I'll try to figure out below. Oh, and my internet wasn't cooperating, so that didn't help either.
It could have been the fact that I was playing Spider-Woman for this entire session. I really wanted to get some time in with her to get a feel for how she plays, and I knew that Hydra would be involved in some capacity this session, so she had to be there for that. However, I'm not totally comfortable with her yet, power-wise or personality. Having read a good number of comics with her in it, I can play the spy-game, and I can attempt the wry sense of humor, but there is a measure of awkwardness there.
Before I get into more exploration of why this session was off for me, I would like to explain what I did enjoy. I want to do this now, because I've written a lot about the things that were negative for me, and I don't want to spin this whole thing the wrong way for you guys, especially those of you involved in this game, and double especially for Jared who is running this campaign.
Despite a complaint about the action scenes that I will say below, I did really enjoy them. Beating on a group of Hydra goons is really fun, and some of the stuff these guys come up with is amazing. Especially Iron Man with his super EMP. I mean, damn! That's pretty kick-ass, and totally Tony Stark. Now, those of you who read my last post about Action would think that these parts would be boring for me, but I do find the fun in scenes like this more than that post implies. It's just not even close to my favorite stuff.
Also, some of the guys were on fire comedically which had all of us rolling. I wasn't, unfortunately, but God, man. If you watch the video above for nothing else, watch it for the zingers. They are there, and they are amazing. Between the constant bro references, Steve making fun of my state, and Hulk, there was good comedy to be had. That's where the real fun of this session came through.
Now, let's go back to trying to figure out why this one was off for me.
Unfortunately, the 'weird thing' that I have mentioned in my X-Men session reports has come back even worse than before. I hate this, I really do. For those who haven't read that post, I'll reiterate it here. In online games involving speech and video, I have a really hard time distinguishing in and out of character speech, especially when it comes to jokes. God, this irritates me, because it seems to be something only I have trouble with. Especially this session with the Hulk. When the guy who plays Hulk, which does a good job all things considered, says a 'Hulk is -' or a 'Hulk wants -' joke, I can't tell if it's in or out of character at all. Then, other people will respond, and I can't tell if they are in character or just extending the joke out of character. This confusion also makes me clam up, so I'm missing an opportunity to do my favorite part of the hobby, talking and interacting in-character, because I'm confused.
Now, take that, and multiply it across seven or eight people who have two characters each, and I'm practically crippled. Not to mention my weird shyness that prevents me from starting up conversations in-character, basically because half of these peoples are almost complete strangers.
Worst part is, it's no one's fault but my own. It can't really be fixed without making stuff regimented and stilted, which is the last thing I want. So, I suppose I'll just have to continue on and pray that, as I get to know these people, that it goes away.
I'm also still not sold on this group size. There was a good discussion about it on the comments for my first Civil War session report, and the consensus, as I remember it, was a 'wait and see' approach. Well, I'm not convinced Marvel Heroic is meant for a group of eight with power levels ranging from Daredevil to Thor and Hulk. In both action scenes this session, combat only lasted one round, and everyone got one action each. The heavy hitters stole the show, obviously. Now, here's my point. If the group was smaller, failing a roll during an action scene wouldn't be such a big deal when you're on the weaker side of the spectrum, as Spider-Woman is. However, if things get wrapped up in one round due to an awesome roll from Iron Man or Hulk, and you messed up on your turn, then that's all you get to do that scene. You don't get your spotlight moment. That sucks.
When the game is mostly focused on action, that really sucks.
The final point I'd like to make is selfish, so please disregard it, but I would like to bring it up anyway. In a group of eight players, I shouldn't really expect my character's stuff to be explored all that much. Especially since everyone has two characters, I should just completely forget about it. However, a part of me still feels that Spider-Woman's triple agent status was under-utilized during the Hydra scene. She interrogated a guy, which had no mechanical influence, but he wasn't talking until the scene was over, and by then, it was too late to act on any information she would have gotten. Not to mention, the thing Hydra was after wasn't even there, so there was no opportunity for a moment of swiping it while SHIELD was cleaning up and handing it off to a Hydra contact as a small aside thing. Spider-Man also had an ample opportunity to call her out on the suspicious stuff that was going on, which would have potentially netted me four XP and been a great point of character evolution, but that didn't happen.
I wouldn't be worried about this if it was an isolated incident, but something similar happened during our Breakout game last summer. Now, I hate to be the guy who complains about things that happened a year ago, but it's a wasted opportunity that still miffles me just a bit. See, I was playing Wolverine, and the 10XP point of his milestone was either coming off a berserker rage without killing anybody, or murdering someone in front of innocents. Well, it just so happens that Wolverine murdered a villain in cold blood... And nobody cared. Unlike some of the other members of our group who just see Milestones as a way to score XP, I see them as crucial evolution points for a character. Hitting the 10 mark should be a huge deal. However, in this game and the Breakout one before it, completing milestones was just kind of a whimper and mechanical thing. In that game, I was building Wolverine to a point where he was seeing how much of a savage, how much like Sabretooth, he was becoming, and having him deal with that baggage, but the big incident that would have brought that to life was swept under the rug as we moved on to the next plot point.
I really, really apologize for bitching. It's far too late for me to be writing this blog post anyway, but I wanted to get down my thoughts while they were super fresh in my mind. I also apologize if I sound whiny, bitchy, or selfish. I don't mean to.
I'm enjoying this game, and look forward to the next time we play in two weeks where we finally dip into the stuff that sparks the Civil War.
I hope you enjoyed this post, despite my ramblings and goings-on, which I do far too much. Why else would I have a blog? If not, enjoy this funny picture, at least.
Being an aspiring writer and a huge nerd, I've decided to supplement my Civil War summary posts with in-character journal entries. Have fun!))
Entry 1:
I really shouldn't be doin' this.
It ain't smart puttin' personal information in an easily compromised place, especially when you've made as many enemies as I have over the years. The wrong guy gets a hold of it and they can make your life into a living Hell.
'Cept, I ain't too worried about Hell, so fuck it. After I got all my memories back by some quirk of chance after Wanda had her way with reality, I've been pretty paranoid of losin' 'em again. If I keep track of what's been goin' on and keep it safe, maybe, in the future if Weapon X drags me back and wipes my mind away, I'll have a way to remember.
But who'd want to remember this?
Wanda Maximoff fucked up all of reality, makin' it so mutants are now an endangered species with millions of us losin' our powers. Now instead of fightin' to save those who hate us, they've got us all cooped up on a reservation guarded by fuckin' Sentinels. Summers doesn't have the spine to do anythin' about it. Sometimes I don't blame him, but lookin' out the window and seeing those bastards keepin' us from leavin' sets my blood to boilin'.
Guess I've got a perverted kind of luck. Still got my powers, otherwise I'd be dead. And, unlike the rest of 'em, my status with the Avengers gets me a 'Get Out of Jail Free' card from the mansion whenever I'd like. I've taken the trip from Westchester to New York more times than I can count in the last six months. Stark owes me gas money.
They're a decent bunch. Put up with me, so that's somethin'. Cap and I go way back, pretty literally. Web-head and I have teamed up more than I'd like to admit, and we work well off each other. When Ben's not hangin' with F-Troop, he's a good drinkin' partner. Same with the God of Thunder. Haven't worked much with Tigra in the past, but I've got to admire a woman with the kind of feral ferocity she's got bubblin' under the surface. Banner's a good guy, when he's not green. Some of 'em get under my skin, though. I don't trust Jessica. Don't like her smell. Always got those pheremones floatin' around, makes my nose burn and my head spin. And a guy could respect Knight's self-righteous quest for vengeance, but the man won't shut his yap. Stark owes me gas money.
So, the minute I stumble into the tower after a long drive from the Mansion, it's time for work. And not the kind of work I like. Bill Foster was sick and goin' on a rampage in the middle of the city and we had to knock him down a peg. Wasn't too hard, just had to knock some sense in to 'im. That was mostly Stark's job, blastin' the guy with a fully-charged blast after bluffin'. Then the press shows up, which was my cue to leave. Took care of it with all the grace and civility the team has come to expect.
Told 'em to fuck off.
I didn't go straight back to the tower after that. Wasn't interested in watchin' the smart guys poke and prod a giant, and wasn't exactly willing to sit around the Tower watching TV and drinkin'. I was willin' to sit around a bar that smells like piss to drink adn watch TV, however. Took my bike to one of my favorite dives in the area and blew off some steam. I know the 'tender, usually gives me a decent price. Beer isn't bad. Place is quiet enough.
Thought a little bit about whether I really belonged on the Avengers. I ain't used to being a public face of heroism, hence why I avoid the press any chance I can. Bein' the only mutant on the team, I'm representing all of mutant-kind, and that's a responsibility I never asked for. Can't change who I am, but I'll be the first to admit, flipping off reporters and slinging curses on camera ain't the way to change the world's opinion of us.
But, I figure if Daredevil and Moon Knight belong here, maybe the standards of membership have been taken down a few notches.
Eventually, I made my way back to the tower just in time to see the team come back from a lab bust. Banner went on another rampage, which I've come to expect. We can only keep a leash on that monster for so long, which is probably one of the reasons I'm still kept around. Not many people have gone toe-to-toe with Jolly Green more than I have. All the evidence was destroyed, and Iron Man had taken off for a bit.
Hell, don't blame him.
Before the night was over, we loaded up on the Quinjet and took off to Oklahoma to be security detail for some landing site. I've been there once or twice in my long life, never for long or for a good reason. Gonna have to chalk this trip up to that list. Note to self: borrow the Blackbird and show up Ben Grimm at the next available opportunity.
Maria Hill decided to take an interest in our activities of the evening. That woman puts a sour taste in my mouth, and she owes me. I could have ended her life, and I had every good justification to do so. Somethin' held me back, the little voice of reason in the back of my head that reminds me that I ain't an animal. Sometimes it's Jeanie. Sometimes it's Chuck. Sometimes it's even fuckin' Slim. I don't always listen, but that night I did, and Hill better thank whatever God she believes in that I did.
Wouldn't you know it that shortly after we arrive, seein' a giant sword that fell out of the sky, Victor Von Doom and an army of his toys flood the field. After a night of self-doubt and bad moods, that was exactly what I needed. Rather than take Doom head on, I charged the field of Doombots and went to work. Nothin' beats the feelin' of taking down an army, seein' the bodies fall, hearing the sparks crackle and die as your claws tear the material to pieces. Thor was havin' even more fun than I was, probably for the same reasons. Seein' something from your old life sittin' out there as plain as day, ripped back into your consciousness, makes you want to beat somethin'.
Before you know it, the whole force of Avengers is attackin' the man in charge. Murdock took a hard hit, losin' his sense for a moment or two. Still, Doom was distracted by all of the elements at play coming at him from every direction, in every way possible. Even a genius of his level can lose focus, and I took the opportunity. In the midst of the chaos, I was a ghost in the night, tracing shadows, eyes following his, nose keeping track of his stress. At the absolute moment when he was lost, a split second or more, I darted and dug my claws into his back.
By that point, he was gone. A Doombot stood in his place, mechanical and cold as I tore out it's spine and wired entrails. And I was mad.
Before we left, Thor and Moon Knight tried to claim the twisted sword as their own. They failed. It crossed my mind that a samurai like myself would do well with a sword, and that my force of personality and appetite for destruction were more than enough to keep a harbinger of the end of the world at bay.
Nah.
Adamantium claws trump Asgardian weapons any day of the week, especially in my hands.
I spent the rest of the night fixin' up the bike, and that night I dreamed of Itsu. And Jeanie.
