CTNES: The Hero (or Villian) Within

[conehead234]

Beginnings Continued

Foot steps raced down the hallway, Issac began to worry. They would enter the room and find him with the unconscious officer. Issac turned to his only escape, the window. He was on the second floor of the building. The foot steps got closer, he had to make his move. Issac moved the chairs and table and set them in front of the door. It was just in time, as the men struggled to push the door open. The rest of the officer’s weapons were gathered, and Issac leaped to a nearby tree. Scurrying down it, he ran into the forest.

By the time the officers breached the room, Issac was a mile away. Night began to fall, as Issac had to stop for the night in the park. Issac awoke the next morning cold wet and shaken up. After hours of wandering, he made it to a local convenience store. Issac had no money on him, but he had a gun. He proceeded to hold up the clerk, and made off with some cash. But on the way out of the store, he ran into a gang on the way in to rob it. After they say what the kid did, they agreed to try to convince Issac to join them. Issac accepted.

12 months later….

Issac was in the back of the van and it came to a screeching halt. The target was the First National Bank of Baltimore. Issac led the group of armed men into the bank. Guns drawn.

‘This a hold up, everyone hands on their head! I am not messing around. HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!’
Issac proceeded to the counter, ‘we want all the money that can fit in that van.’

The clerk reluctantly agreed. The van was loaded up, Issac using his powers to lift the money.

‘Now, kill all the witnesses’ Issac lifted his gun and aimed at the manager.

‘Don’t t t t do this, Please, Don’t Sire, I beg you’ The man pleaded.

‘My name is Issac Rickter, but you may call me Conehead’

‘Please Conehead, spare my life’

Conehead shot the man in the face.

‘Its Supreme Conehead to you.’

Conehead walked out of the bank, all the witnesses were dead.

 

[Icmancin]

The Mossad agent was sitting idly in his apartment in Jerusalem, watching television. He was single, thirty-two years of age and a regular at the local bar. He had been with the Mossad for six years and had worked only on one major mission so far. He was watching the news when the phone began to ring it's usual, annoying ring. Lazily he walked to the phone, beer in hand.

'Y'ello?'

Click! The phone went dead for a second, then he heard a dial tone. Odd, he thought to himself. But then he realised: someone was after him.

He threw the beer into the garbage can and quickly dashed to his closet. He put his sneakers on quickly and grabbed his travel bag, which he always kept packed in the event of an emergency. This was one of these emergencies.

He moved to the door swiftly. He opened it and looked both ways down the hallway. No one. He shut his door, locked it and proceeded to the stairways which would bring him down to the underground parking lot. He began to quicken his pace, he had no idea who was after him but it was not a situation he wanted to be in.

He reached the stairway. Comig up it was a muscular man, Arab it appeared. He saw a bulg in his shoe, up his leg -a leg holster, he thought, ****!- and he observed that this man was carrying something under his leather jacket. Somehting bulky.

'Good day,' he said, trying to sound casual. The Arab man grunted in response.

The Mossad agent quickly descended down the stairs, took a turn and then ran down the next set of stairs. He was near sprinting until he reached his car. He breathed a sigh of relief and quickly opened the door and trunk. He put his travel bag into the trunk and began to walk to the driver's side when-

'Don't you ****ing move.' The agent looked over and saw the same Arab man walking towards him. The next thing he knew he was pinned between his car and the Arab man's strong arm. 'Now, I know you know where the Prime Minister lives. Now-' he began to put more pressure on the Mossad operative- 'make my life easier and tell me where he lives.'

'I... don't...know...' the agent weezed out.

'Wrong answer.' The Arab pressed his index finger against the agent's cheek. A small, tiny flame erupted from this finger causing the Mossad agent to scream in pain- and yelp out the address of the Prime Minister.

'Thank you, you're going to make my life a lot easier.' The agent was thrown to the ground and an earsplitting crack was heard from the agent's hand. This was followed by a grunt of pain.

'Who... the hell are you?'

'The name's Kareem and your country isn't going to exist much longer.' Kareem spun around and pulled his MP-40 SMG from out from his jacket. A spray of bullets riddled the agent and his car, leaving him dead in the parking lot. Easy enough, Kareem thought, and this makes my plans a lot easier.

 

[das]

Our two Telekinetics could rule together

For some odd reason - probably because I was just rewatching Monty Python - I find this insanely funny. You could bash two bricks together as a sign of friendship.

Sending orders now.

 

[Swissempire]

For some odd reason - probably because I was just rewatching Monty Python - I find this insanely funny. You could bash two bricks together as a sign of friendship.

Sending orders now.

Story coming

 

[Swissempire]

Side Effects may vary​

Chip sat in his office, smiling. All was well. SEGG kept touting his methods, his beleifs, and Chip kept getting donations, large ones in fact, and His run for mayor looked like a lock. His poll numbers kept rising and rising. Some newscaster had even predicted a run for Governor in 2 years, but Chip wasn't that cocky.

It was very unfortunate for the candidate who beat him for mayor that all the stolen money ended up in his office, with nobodies but is fingerprnts on it. He insisted it must have floated in, but thats impossible.

Chip just smiled, and turned on the news. There was a fire raging at the local preschool. Chip doned his sunglasses and flew away towards it, assuming the identity of SEGG.

We got there just in time. SEGG landed on the ground amid cheers, and pulled out children with his mind 5 at a time. With a thought, he took control of the firehoses and directed them towards the source of the fire.

After the fire was doused, SEGG spoke with the media. He smiled, he waved, and he slipped in he hoped Councillor Sinton would run for Mayor, because he was the only doing what Middlesex really needed.

And they soaked up everybit of it. It was all according to plan. They asked him about the Evil Telekinetic in Maryland. SEGG said that all Supers had a chance to become good, most were just misunderstood. SEGG left it at that and flew back. But as he flew away, he saw a mysterious man with soe kind of device taking readings from were he acted. He watched him, and then followed him in his car.
----------------------

When they had reached the middle of nowhere, SEGG came out of the sky, and landed infront of the vehicle. The man, obviously surprised, skidded to a stop. SEGG yanked his car door open, and telekinetically grabbed his body and threw it out of the car. SEGG floated over to the man as he stood up.

SEGG pushed him back down mentally.

"Who are you?"

The man stood up again, "I don't answer to you."

SEGG outstretched his hand and clenched it, as if choking the man. The man floated a few inches off the ground, and was gasping for breathe, as if being choked. "I asked you a question!"

The man gurgled, "Your..worst..nightmare..."

SEGG threw im against the car, with a 300 pound force. The window shattered, and the man screamed in pain. He had a long gash down his side, and his nose was bleeding. SEGG picked him up again and threw him across the road into the metal guard rail. The man slumped down, bloody and defeated. SEGG picked him up in the air once more. "Answer me, smart guy."

The man was horrified, SEGG was a hero. But he was also intruged by this development. But by thinking he wasted time, and SEGG pinched tighter.

The man finally spoke. "Okay, okay. I'm with the EGG project. I'm monitoring your growth, watching for side effects, gauging if your ready for the next level."

SEGG was shocked. He dropped the man. "You..you.. that project is dead. You lie!"

SEGG picked him up and threw him against the pavement. he telekinetically punched him. The man screamed again.

But then his expression changed. "Oh, its alive alright. If it wasn't, could i do...this!"

The man pulled out a device with a red button on it and pushed it. A searing pain traveled through SEGGs brain. He clutched his head and fell to the ground. As the world went black, he muttered, "You fool, nothing can stand in the way of my politcal career."

 

[Contempt]

Nice stories everyone. Conehead, glad to see you here...

 

[conehead234]

Swiss there isn't room in this world for the both of us.

 

[Alakazen]

SEGG was shocked. He dropped the man. "You..you.. that project is dead. You lie!"

I can so imagine the line being said in a 1950's superhero TV serial... "You lie!"

@Contempt: Thanks! Coming up with a character and story very, very soon... I really didn't know what I was thinking when making Pak Letrik. His character was too one-dimensional.

 

[alex994]

1944

Pingfang, China

He was in pain, he didn’t know why. He didn’t remember anything. Where was he? Who was him? Then, in the midst of this thought, men in white coats stepped over him. They were speaking in something he couldn’t understand. What were they doing to him???

AHH! He felt pain course through him and blacked out. Yet he still retained his feelings and perceptions, Time flew by as if they were light radiating from the sun. He felt strange, as if strange substances coursed through his skin.

He finally woke up he felt that he could move his body and that he was in control. Yet… he felt strange, as if a power coursed through him. It was a power that could destroy and maim though he didn’t know what it was. He didn’t even know how to control it. Why he kept on referring to himself in third person was another mystery.

A man in white with glasses were approaching and his mouth began opening and making sounds. Wait… he could understand what he was saying. It was as if he had been reborn and that everything was new to him. His feelings, his state of mind, they were all new. He felt as if his body wasn’t his anymore like it had been changed and altered. He snapped back and remembered what the man in the white was talking about:

“-have been chosen for the better life. You shall have powers beyond the imagination of your once fellow Chinese lowlife you will be equal to any pure breed Japanese now, a servant of the Emperor! You will aid us in the defense of Japan from Captain America! Long Live the Emperor!”

Chinese lowlife… Chinese lowlife… Chinese lowlife… He remembered! The past came rushing back into his mind as if a mental block had been shattered! He remembered! His parents had been killed by Japanese soldiers as they tried to flee with him. He remembered being carried here against his will. He was Chinese.

He remembered that he was only 14. He remembered the terrible suffering he had gone through at the hands of the Japanese military near starvation before he had agreed to be experimented on. He remembered the pain, everything. He felt as if his anger fueled him and he felt stronger. He tore off the restraints and in a rare moment of sanity, instead of rushing at the scientists fled.

He fled as far as he could, as far as he could to Beijing. There, he found solace. There he found work. And there he lived for the next 6 years. Over time, he began recognizing that whatever the scientists did to him, he became unique. With powers beyond that of normal people. He began using his powers to kill the rats and insects in his house, but soon he gained control.

He would become the Black Dragon…

 

[Alakazen]

Hero Name: Lady Justice / Alakazen
Home Town: London, England (No secret base yet)
Base Level: Basement
Funds: 1000 WC
Weapons: A pistol and a knife
Stockpile: Nothing
Henchmen: 5 men
Vehicles: Old car
Superhero level: 0
Strength: 0
Speed/Agility: 0
Endurance: 0
Powers:
1) Dirty Glass: A little transparent, good for dark locations
Research: None

Description:
She was in her mid-twenties, the prime of her life. Athletic, intelligent, attractive, and with a good career to boot, nothing seemed to be able to stop her… until someone wronged her and got away with it. From then on, she decided to exact justice herself, from the shadows of the London streets.


Death

June 21, 1951.

It began to drizzle in London. Pedestrians hurriedly opened their umbrellas and produced their newspapers to protect themselves from the rain. Those unfortunate enough to have either were forced to seek shelter. In a particular street in London, shelter came in the form of the Central Criminal Court of England.

That particular street was the Old Bailey, which was also the colloquial and affectionate name for the courthouse. And from atop the Old Bailey, a woman watches over all of London; a statue of Justice personified. In her right hand, she held a sword – the power to punish – and in her left, scales – equity for all. Little escaped her knowledge, for unlike most Justices, she was not blind. However, there are occasions when things slip through the cracks, when Law was bested at its own game, when guilty men run free.

These occasions, we invariably call tragedies. Tonight, Mabel Holbrook’s tragedy would leave her a completely changed woman.

Presently, Mabel was lying in a foetal position on one of Old Bailey’s roofs. Her body was laced with lacerations and bruises, and her clothes were mostly torn, offering almost no protection at all against the unapologetic rain and searing cold. Half naked and on the verge of hypothermia, she bit her lip and closed her tear-depleted eyes, deciding to end it all by letting the night engulf her.

“What be your woe, child?” spoke someone from above her. Surprised, Mabel’s eyes opened and searched for the source of the voice.

“Who… Who are you?” Mabel managed to whisper.

“I am defender of London’s children of the poor and the punisher of wrongdoers.”

Mabel had heard similar words somewhere before, but for the moment couldn’t put her finger on it. Squinting through the rain droplets, she found her conversation partner; the statue of Justice perched on the Old Bailey dome. At this discovery, she forcefully let out one final tear from her eyes. “How wonderful. I’m seeing crazy things before I die.”

“Child, you are not seeing crazy things,” said the statue, before it leapt off the roof and landed beside Mabel. It crouched and placed its accessories – the sword and the scales – down before reaching for Mabel’s hands, holding them in its own. “I am real and alive, as are you.”

Mabel released a laboured cough. “Yeah… You’re real,” she said in disbelief, for she was able to feel the warmth in the statue's hands. Gentle, yet fiery, life-giving warmth.

“Yes. And you will live. Now rest, my child, as I tend to your wounds. Rest, and be rejuvenated, for you shall have much to accomplish in the coming times.”

With that, Mabel smiled, and allowed herself to slip away into the darkness, oblivious to whether or not what just transpired was real, or simply figments of her near-death imagination.

 

[JosefStalinator]

Emperor Norton regally emerged from his royal box, feeling something different about the day into which he would soon embark.

"Malakai, fetch me my sceptre. Today feels different, Eris is desirous of something grand. Where do you suggest we travel today, my good man?"

"Hrm... shall we venture to Berkeley, sire? We run low on provisions, and there are many there who would aid us in aquiring some anew"

"Of course! Eris bless you Malakai, to Berkeley it is!"

And so Norton began his day's wandering, preaching the word of Eris and denouncing the Congress which had earlier sent an agent to keep an eye upon his holiness- something the Emperor found both irritating and amusing.

Upon reaching the commune of Berkeley, Norton met his appointee as ruler of The Greater East Bay the area, a loyal fellow "politician" named Hobo Joe.

"Your highness," Joe gracefully revered, bowing before his Emperor, respectfully allowing him the first place in the dinner bread line.

"Rise, Lord Joe, have you word of any goings ons, or stockpiles of foodstuffs for our consumption."

"Aye your highness... there is a small matter that I have discovered much to my liking, I wish to introduce you to a mysterious shaman who is willing to share unto us some wisdom he colloquially dubbed 'out of this world'".

"Very well, once dinner is completed we shall travel to this shaman and seek his portence. Eris herself had predicted something of importance to occur today"

And so Norton traveled with his followers to a local shop, not noticing the assorted paraphenalia scattered throughout.

"I see it is decorated with the local custom, these strangely colored beads in the enterance ways have always intrigued me," remarked Norton, unaware of what he was about to stumble upon.

"Yo, Norton, my man, come 'round back, I've got some serious good dope for you to scope out"

"I gather dope is the local word for wisdom," Norton whispered to Malakai, who was stopped from opening his mouth by the rapid departure of Norton toward the back room of the shop.

Instantly upon entering this haven, Norton found his senses blurred and his connection to Eris enhanced, as the voices around him echoed within his head.

"Here man... try this..." Came a voice, placing something to the Emperor's lips as reality seemed to blur yet more all around him. Suddenly Norton found himself spiraling downward, his vision increasingly distorted until consciousness left him entirely.

He awoke several minutes later in a daze, gathering in his sorroundings as the alleyway behind the very shop in which just moments before he was breathing a menagerie of chemicals and intoxicants straight into his bloodstream.

"Where the hell am I?" He asked, not recognizing the various faces sorrounding him, "and why the hell do I smell like piss."

"Y-Your majesty?" Asked Malakai, utterly confused by His Emperor's sudden change in attitude.

"Your majesty? What the hell you been smokin' boy? My name is Michael Trenton, and... what the... what happened to the battle? The war? What day, year is it?"

"Tis... Chaos 4th, 1951, milord. The war is long over, the Germans are defeated, but that is no matter, why is it your highness acts so... strangely?"

"Strangely? Boy, you are sittin' there talkin' to me like you're from the 1800's, by God just leave me the hell alone."

And so Michael brushed his best friend aside, causing him to fall into a puddle of mud and urine which had accumulated in the middle of the crowd of bums. The now confused Michael wandered his way toward city hall, where he soon washed himself and threw his old clothes into a dumpster beside the building.

"Hey you there... lookin' to make a buck? We need some men to... rough up some 'trouble makers'. Interested?"

And so Michael was conscripted by some dark suited government officials, and set upon his task with some fellow men. Little did he know that his task was to set fire to a 'transient encampment'- the very same in which he had awoke earlier that morning.

 

[das]

Great story, Josef!

 

[Swissempire]

Swiss there isn't room in this world for the both of us.

There will be, there will be *indulges in an evil laugh, even though i'm "good"*

Muhaha muhaha MUHAHAHAHAHA!

 

[Alakazen]

Justice

June 21, 1951.

Arthur Jacobi was a very successful lawyer. At the age of 30, he was the youngest senior associate in his law firm. He has thus far only ever lost four of his cases, and as a result, commanded much respect from his peers, especially one Mary Holbrook. As it was, she became his partner in a negligence lawsuit, which they had just recently won and subsequently celebrated.

Presently, he was running towards St. Paul Station, flustered and tired, with nothing but the Daily Telegraph to protect him from the rain. Before long, the newspaper was ripped apart by water, and Arthur was forced to seek shelter in a shaded alley.

He leaned against a wall and attempted to light a cigarette. Failing to do so after several attempts, he sighed an “Oh, bugger.” Then, he produced a damp box of matches from his coat pocket.

“How is it possible that you are so utterly nonchalant about it, Arthur?” spoke a booming, yet sinister, female voice from somewhere nearby.

He started and dropped the matchbox. “Who’s that?” he demanded, his eyes darting around nervously.

The voice came from another direction now. “She trusted you, Arthur. She believed in you.”

“Who? Who’s ‘she’? Who’re you? What’re you talking about?!”

“I am speaking of the woman you had just defiled, you disgusting pervert!”

“What the… Who in God’s name are you?! Show yourself, woman!” Arthur bellowed. He held in his hand now a penknife, and for the very first time, revealed its blade rather than its corkscrew.

“I am the one who sees every wrong committed in this city, Arthur. Each day, I am witness to the persecution of men, and each day, I am saddened whenever the innocent are chastised and the guilty walk free.”

“Stop your babbling!”

The voice ominously draws closer. “Let us not forget that the reach of Law himself is limited, when great wrongs elude his sight or slip through his fingers. The duty then falls on me to punish the seepage. Is it not ironic that you, who are an agent of the Law, require such punishment?”

“I said stop your bloody babbling! Who are you, God damn it?!” Arthur was now feverishly brandishing the penknife, hoping to strike an unseen target.

“I am Justice.”

In a single blink of his eyes, a figure familiar to him materialised directly in front of the terrified lawyer. “You!” Arthur exclaimed.

From the dark alley, a yelp, followed by a piercing shriek was heard, becoming groaning and moaning in moments, and eventually just a gurgle.

 

[alex994]

Essay on the Super fluidity of Heroes and Villains in the year 1950​

“Why are so many of the heroes and villains in the Capitalists countries jokes? Do you know why? For example, the SEGG, Lord Fire, The Infamous Moose, Legionary, and Frostbite. Though there are others worthy of recognition, we will investigate them later as we will of course, see the more eccentric ones.

However, of the listed heroes/villains none of them concentrates on the Glorious Communists Cause, or any cause at all. Below we will see the activities of these heroes/villains and what they seek to accomplish as well.

The SEGG is a strange character with a strange fetish for the color olive green. According to known information in the Year of Our Lord 1951, he is in fact a result of a secret Government Project. Or so he claims. His infamous style of sunglasses, with a red tint in the eye will assuredly gather popularity for said sunglasses. Oh yes, and he supports a mysterious Chip Sinton for Mayor.

Lord Fire is a strange man. Contrary to popular opinion, he does not have control over fire. It is believed that he is a telepath, though none are truly sure. It is said that he has an obsession with the food cottage cheese. One must stand in fear of whatever evil experiments he must surely be conducting on the cottage cheese… Of course, that or he just likes cheese.

The Moose is a strange character, for whom no one truly understands or cares to understand. He is the self proclaimed defender of cookies and the enemy of gnomes everywhere. His sanity is often in doubt though this could be subterfuge. Acting insane, he may be able to get his opponents to underestimate him and one must be cautious in dealing with him. Either that or he’s just plain insane.

Legionary is by all appearance, a legionary. He is perhaps one of Rome’s ancient soldiers who discovered the secret of immortality and bided his time for conquest. No one truly knows his goals for the future, perhaps he plans to rebuild the Roman Empire whose soldier’s namesake he has. Though for now he has been reduced to nothing more then petty crimes. Until proven otherwise, he shall be one of the strange.

Frostbite is believed to have the power of ice and freezing. By the latest accounts he was last seen robbing a pet shop. He is believed to be training German Shepherds in the art of villainim. He does not like Golden Retrievers and Labradors apparently though for reasons unknown. Perhaps we will see him one day with an army of Super German Shepherds, no one knows.

 

[Swissempire]

I like it Alex, except EGG is a private proect, started at Princeton. In OTL it is real, but i adapted it for a more sinister use here.

 

[alex994]

I like it Alex, except EGG is a private proect, started at Princeton. In OTL it is real, but i adapted it for a more sinister use here.

That's what the Government WANTS you to think

For the record, I have a copy ight on this type of story

 

[Kozmos]

nice one.

Anyway its time for an avatar change. Also I demand a radiation power!

 

[~Darkening~]

For the record, I have a copy ight on this type of story

Says the person who totally copied my laissez-faire idea?

 

[das]

You didn't have it copyrighted.

Nice article alex, ofcourse one must note that there are many, many ideology-driven heroes out there. Including myself, by the way.

Btw, if anybody else joins, I hope he goes to Latin America. Its a bit lonely there, only two characters...