Marvel AU - Cut Off One Head . . . [O/A]

[Stray_Dog]

His smile faded to a demonic scowl. "I'm no more bound to this realm than you, Webb. This is simply the only realm in which I am all-powerful. Don't forget that you are a guest in my domain." At that moment he too glanced at Kreios and the Man-Spider, seeing that Charon and Web had already worked their stuff. There was still a little time for him to add something, though, and Webb's request to see him try was just enough for an implicit deal.
"Very well, Web, I accept. You can take him. I now have what I need."

[DrAshFjorde]

"You know what I mean," Webb started to state, but stopped as she watched both the Man-Spider and Kreios become transparent and than vanished. Glaring at Mephisto, she demanded, "What did you do?" not really caring the fate of the skeleton demon.

As Madam Webb demanded of Mephisto what had transpired, Charon put the artefact he'd been studying away, turned and, feeling his business was complete, he started to walk away. Reaching into his robes, he withdrew the object that became the ferry and dropping it onto the ground, he climbed aboard. Planting the pole alongside it, he began to row and after a couple of feet, he vanished, the sounds of the dying calling him back to his duties.

[Stray_Dog]

Mephisto chuckled darkly before replying, "I merely tried to keep him here. Obviously I failed. Rest assured, I haven't harmed that one. Whatever his fate, it was your own working, with some help from the ferryman. If you want the truth, I think he's beyond my grasp now. But then, I'm not exactly the prince of truth am I? Now if there's nothing else I believe our business is concluded. I trust you can show yourself out."

[DrAshFjorde]

Madam Webb glared at the Prince of Lies for a couple more seconds before finally stating, "If I find that anything has happened that does not immediately announce itself as my work or the Ferryman's, I shall be back," and turning, she strolled a couple steps and than vanished.

Back in her own realm, Madam Webb forced herself to grow calm, removing the taint that came from being in Mephisto's dimension as she did so. After a moment, when she felt herself settling, she began to mentally search for Spider-Man, deciding that Mephisto's lackey was his own business. When it became obvious that she wasn't going to find J Jonah anywhere, Madam Webb began to grow worried.

Wondering if Charon knew anything, she thought about summoning him, but decided that he wouldn't like it and for the moment, the last she needed was the ageless stranger upset. Sitting in her throne, Madam Webb closed her eyes and began to concentrate.

As she concentrated, worlds upon worlds began to form inside her mind. She saw all the versions of Spider-Man, Peter Parker Ben Reilly Miguel O'Hara to name a few, but the one she sought simply wasn't. Disturbed by this, she began to concentrate harder, until the faint twinges of a headache announced itself and knowing she was pushing herself to hard, Madam Webb allowed her mind to drift. As it did so, she thought of the destiny of all the one's who'd gone under the mantle of the spider faced.

[tyrus cypher]

________________________________
Location: Peaceful Meadows Morturary, Bronx
----------------------
"Evil is just a point of view."

Deep within the Bronx of New York stood a small unassuming building that has been there for nearly a century. The Peaceful Meadows Mortuary had since built a bigger building in a more desirable part of the city, but kept this smaller building as their workshop. It was also the current home of Phillip and Darren Hawkens. A father and son duo that seemed to single handely prepare the parade of bodies that came in and out of their morturary doors. Of course that was how it appeared on the outside. What only a very few people knew was that Phillip and Darren were "connected". In the modern term it meant that they worked for organized crime. It was not by choice they came to this profession. The love of family is what turned this brilliant doctor and his savant son into nothing more than lackeys. While Phillip used the bodies to smuggle any number of things through the counrty, his son Darren was put to work making weapons and explosives. The older Hawkens did not know what terrified him more. That when his son was 10 he was making hi explosives that could take out armored cars, or the fact that the boy seemed to enjoy his work. Of course, all the work he was doing was contructed around a very important lie. That they were actually working for the government. Of course, Darren was much smarter at that age than his father gave him credit for and knew that if he disobeyed they would either hurt him or his father until one of them gave in or died. So rather that put his father through that kind of torture, he did what he was told.


As time went on, Darren soon picked up a name from his Capo handlers. They started to call him "The Smith". As much as he did not like working for gangsters, he did that the name had a ring to it. Of course the Mob was not about to say the name of their weapons provider and doctor out loud for anyone to hear, so the nickname stuck to him. By the time he was 18, he was still making weapons for gangsters, who in turn were selling them to super villans and anyone that could afford their prices. The years of constant worry and guilt had worn down the once passionate and outspoken Phillip Hawkens into nothing more than a drone that could only mumble a few words of protest at best. Seeing what this life had done to his father, he made it his personal mission to protect him and do whatever it took to keep his father safe. That isn't to say that Darren wasn't devious. On the sly, Darren also began to develop things for the police. Of course this part of his business was personal and paid almost nothing, but it helped him feel like he was keeping the balance. He developed a better incendiary ammunition for the Mob, the police would suddenly have the plans for improved body armor. It was his slight way of rebelling against the system that had destroyed his father.



"The Smith" was nothing more than mobster myth to some. A name given to a faceless system that came out with even more destructive weapons that threatened innocent lives on a daily basis. Of course this did not stop police and villans from trying to get their hands on whoever "The Smith" was. No one ever seemed to figure out that he was based right in the heart of the Bronx, working as a humble morturary assistant. Sitting at his desk, the younger Hawkens sat still as a rock while he watched what looked like an empty tube under a pair of magnifying visor as he seemed to wait for something to happen. After a few minutes he very slowly began to pour a mixture of thermite and pastique explosives into the container. When the termite was activated it would melt through the metal and let the plastique explosives drip into the metal allowing the explosive to go off deeper in the metal. After a few minutes he carefully began to close off the top of the device. After a few minutes of wiring the completed bomb, complete with 5 metal tubes of the same mixture, sat on his desk ready for pickup. Putting his gloves and visor in his toolbox he stood up and examined his work with a smile. It seemed that a bank, he had no idea which one, was going to be in for a big surprise.

[SKBCTayuyaFluteofDeath]

Alejandra Cortez

Alejandra took the package marked "Fragile" from the dispatch desk and looked at the form attached to the box. The address was a mortuary in the Bronx. Huh. It was only a few streets down from her boarding house. Who knew she lived so close to a mortuary? Kinda creepy thought, but hey, at least she knew where her body would be prepared for burial when it came time. That is, if she didn't end up dying somewhere outside of New York. She shook her head to get rid of the morbid thought and headed out to her bike. She secured the package to the back of her chopper and headed out. A few minutes later, she rang the bell of the mortuary and waited for someone to come out.

Tyrus-taichou

[DrAshFjorde]

Author's note: This and the following post was written by two people, so please excuse any discrepancies in format

Listening the hell-spawn spout off, May had to restrain herself from rushing out and knocking the green creature’s head from his body. Seeing that he was thinking about something, she wondered what. Seeing that he had still one of the explosives, she took careful aim, preparing to rob him of even that. When she felt the timing was right, she fired a line of webbing at the hand-held bomb.

The Green goblin heard the sound of the webbing lacing out but failed to identify from where in time. The webbing snaked out to the grenade and wrapped around his hand. In a burst of fury Goblin pulled hard, trying to yank the wannabe out of hiding and into arms, or a least, foot reach.

Seeing that she had at least managed to wrap the hell-spawn’s hand, May suddenly felt herself being drawn forward. Digging her heels in, she quickly wrapped the webbing around her hand and began to pull in the opposite direction, sure that the line could hold. As she did this, she thought fast and decided on what to do.

With a shock of force the Goblin felt the webbing drag back the other way. Using the added force, he launched himself at her with double the speed due to the force of the pull, his heavy metal boot aimed at wannabe’s face.

Seeing that he was now coming at her, and had raised a boot to kick her, May acted quickly. Dropping the line she was holding, she reached out and grabbing the incoming boot with both hands, she shifted her momentum. As she did this, she began to swing the hell-spawn up and over her head, attempting to bring him face down onto the rooftop.

The Goblin, surprised at the wannabe’s quick reaction, was still stunned when his jaw slammed hard into the rooftop. Stunned, the goblin was grateful the helmet took most of the force but still tasted blood in his mouth. Grabbing a handful of rock he aimed a kick at her solar plexus while throwing dust and rock into her face.

Feeling the dust and tiny rocks hit her, May blinked, stumbled back and with both hands still holding the green hell-spawn, she used the shadows to teleport without giving it a second thought.

The wind whipped by and the Goblin felt as if he were being squeezed through a rather small hose “ Christ, I can see out the back of my head” he wondered. As the journey stopped, he wrenched off his mask, and promptly threw up.

Blinking, over looking the pain that was engulfing her chest, May realised that somehow she managed to teleport them down to the alley below. Smelling sick, she wrinkled her nose and deciding that she didn’t really want him to be going anywhere, she raised her fist. Aiming at the leg she was holding, May brought her arm down as hard as she could.

[tyrus cypher]

________________________________
Location: Peaceful Meadows Mortuary, Bronx
----------------------
"Evil is just a point of view."

Just like clockwork, two heavyset wise guys in suits came in and took the fruits of his labors. Off to do some untold amount of damage to a bank vault somewhere in the city. They gave Darren a smile, after all they had known him since he was a little kid. He had grown up within the walls of the mortuary, had seen and done things here that would traumatize most kids. But he seemed to take it all in stride. Even though he despised the Mob, he just smiled back and locked up behind them. There was nothing he could do about it while they had him and his father under a microscope. They were top earners for the Mob, and they were not going to let them just walk away. He figured that he could get away and disappear, but his father was old and his spirit completely broken after so many years of doing the bidding of wise guys.


The front door bell suddenly rang, pulling Darren out of his gloomy mind set. Putting his work apron and gloves over the embalming table, he took a few minutes to make sure he was presentable. Opening the front door, he smiled politely at the woman who stood there. "Can I help you ma'am?" Darren stood about average height for most 18 year old males, but weighing in at 120lbs made him much stockier than most. But most of this was hidden by the slacks and button down shirt he was wearing. After all, he was the mortuary assistant now. Had to dress the part. "After all, you seem in too good of health to need our services." It was a corny joke just to break the ice. He did not get many visitors at work, or many visitors at all to tell the truth.

[SKBCTayuyaFluteofDeath]

Alejandra Cortez

Alejandra chuckled at the corny joke, surreptitiously looking over the guy who'd opened the door. He was cute. She held up the box under her arm. "I've got a package here for a Darren Hawkens. That you?" she asked.

Tyrus-taichou

[DrAshFjorde]

The goblin screamed as his leg spasmed up on him and in a burst of fury and adrenaline sank his other foot as hard as he could into the face of the wannabe.

Seeing the other foot coming for her, May turned her head at the last moment, feeling the booted foot come in contact with the side of her head, about cheek level. Still refusing to let up, she felt a darkness begin to build within her and once again she began to punch the grappled leg, harder and harder with each blow, her thoughts turning to death of Peter and all the others this hell-spawn intended to hurt.

The Goblin, writhed in pain as the cushioning effect of the suit failed, screaming and flailing his arms for purchase, he manage to briefly grab one of her arms and twisted with everything he had.

Feeling one of her arms being twisted, May continued to hammer away at the leg, and as she felt her momentum shifting, she allowed it, in the process violently twisting the leg she was holding. And as she felt her feet move, attempting to compensate for the shifting of her centre of gravity, May was briefly aware that a group of people had gathered at the entrance to alley.

He felt the jointing in his leg tear and rip, knowing he would be laid up for quite a while and noticing the people in the alley, he screamed to the people “HELP ME, THIS THING IS TRYING TO KILL ME!”

Hearing the green hell-spawn screaming, May quickly looked over at the people standing at the head of the alley. Seeing that a one was moving to assist, she let go of the foot she was holding and reaching down, she picked up the goblin mask. Staring at it, she spat out, “EVIL THING! YOU INTENDED TO HURT OTHERS! YOU KILLED A GOOD MAN! AND NOW YOU BEG FOR HELP!?” unaware that the raspy voice she was using made her sound like Spider-Man.
As she continued to stare at the mask, she decided that she was done for moment and as the darkness began to life, May came to the conclusion of turning the hell-spawn over to the ones called S.H.E.I.L.D. Placing her other hand on the mask, she began to squeeze.

Watching as wannabe screamed while holding his mask, the Green Goblin slowly began to slide out of her reach, wincing at he immense pain in his torn and destroyed leg screamed with every movement. Hearing the sound of crushing metal he turned and watched as she crushed the mask, while sirens sounded in the distance.

Upon seeing that the hell-spawn was attempting to crawl away, May hissed out, “Oh-no you don’t,” and easing up on the now mangled mask, she moved quickly toward him.
Grabbing the front of his armour, May yanked forward and seeing the gap, she shoved the mask in between the armour and the garment he wore under it. Hearing the sirens, she tightened her grip and thinking of the location of the S.H.I.E.L.D liaison office that either Mr or Mrs Parker had mentioned, she stepped into the shadows.

The Goblin breathed deep, hissing slightly in pain and digging the mask out of his armour, he quietly slipped the mask into a hidden pouch. Most of the police were either on his payroll or he had something at his offices on them. In a few days time all this would be forgotten by everyone except him. The next time that wannabe and him met it would definitely be the end of her.

[tyrus cypher]

________________________________
Location: Peaceful Meadows Morturary, Bronx
----------------------
"Evil is just a point of view."

His gaze was pulled to the chopper the woman seemed to have arrived on. The part of his mind that loved to tinker on things wanted nothing more than to take it apart. Like most men who were considered brilliant, the finer points of human interaction seemed to elude him. Such as the attractive woman standing in front of him and his eyes were drawn to her motorcycle instead. Returning eye contact to the woman with the package, he put on a sheepish smile and reached for the box. "You have found the one and only. Did you have any trouble finding the place?" It was odd that he was getting a package directly shipped to him. Most of the time packages just arrived under phoney names that were on the payroll. He wondered what it could be. His eyes fell to the box in her hands and he immediately spied the fragile stamp on the side. He had heard stories from the wise guys about how they had bumped off an informant or rival with package bombs and the like. Pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind for now, he maintained a pleasant smile on his face. It had been a long time since he had outside company stop by.

[SKBCTayuyaFluteofDeath]

Alejandra Cortez

Alejandra saw his gaze drift to her chopper, and she chuckled. "No trouble at all. I actually live a few streets down." She raised an eyebrow. "Saw you checking out my chopper. You like her?"

Tyrus_taichou

[DrAshFjorde]

Teleporting, using the shadows, it took May a couple tries before she located the S.H.I.E.L.D downtown office. When she finally had found it, she marched in and ignoring the looks she was getting and the fact that all talk had stopped. Letting go of the green hell-spawn, she thought about saying something. Instead, she turned and walked out, deciding it was their business now.

As she headed down the street, she glanced about and getting her bearings, she peered at the various people, noted that a lot were either giving her a large berth or casting strange looks in her direction, and remembering she still was encased in shadows, she raised an arm, shot a line of webbing and pulling herself up, she began to swing back to were she had stored Peter’s body.

By the time she had found the place were she placed the shroud, the sun was already down. Glad that she’d acquired a couple more sheets, May stared at the blood soaked cocoon. Unwrapping the body, wrinkling her nose at the slight stench, May worked quickly to wrap the body in fresh wrappings.

Picking up the body, she began to move. Swinging her away across Manhattan, carrying Peter's body in a fire-man's hold, deciding not to use her teleportation abilities, enjoying the way the wind felt against her sweat-soaked face, May lost herself to her thoughts. As she swung across the bridge and into Queens, she wondered what she was going to tell Mr and Mrs Parker, sure that they would somehow be both disappointed and angry at her. Approaching the house, she decided that what would be would be.

As May approached the Parker residence, Norman Osborne looked at the men standing around him, watched as one of them brought in a stretcher to transport him some place else. Knowing that these people had nothing to do with the police, he looked up at the ceiling. When he felt himself being put onto the stretcher, he decided to play the card that he didn’t remember the past couple days. Looking at the nearest person, he simply stated, “I demand to see my lawyer,” and than smiled, in what he thought was friendly manner, but left the person feeling like they were looking into the face of insanity.

Climbing the porch steps, May wondered what she should do. Knock? Just enter. She didn't know how to deliver the news that somebody's loved one was dead. Seeing a button, remembering something she'd either seen or heard, May raised a hand and pressing it. Inside, she could hear a buzzing noise and on the other side of the door, she could see Mrs Parker approaching.

When the door opened, May gently set the body she was carrying down and looking at the elderly woman, she said, "I'm sorry," as she felt the tears beginning to fall.

[Achikah]

Black Widow-------

____________________________________________________

"I'm neither," she stated with immediate and unfaltering certainty. "I get that response often, 'which one are you,' as if it's a warning, or something to sway my conscience. In reality, there isn't a choice involved because they're one in the same. It's more complicated than good or bad, control or submission, and right now, it's something you won't quite understand. Perhaps no on will until I find the words to describe it, or am willing to." She paused, still looking at the vast forests before them. The serenity wouldn't last, but there was still time. For now.

"You're a good man, Bruce. More so than most." Turning her head, her distant eyes soon stared at him with curiosity. "However, you're still bad at pep talks, and apparently seeing obvious solution to your problems.. Or did you think I treat most of my hostages to tea and pleasantries?"

[Stray_Dog]

Bruce Banner

He thought maybe he understood better than she thought he did, but maybe he didn't have the words to describe it either. If she found those words then maybe she could share them so they would both understand each other a little better. Of course that was only if this all turned out.
"Well I guess I wouldn't really know. The only other time I've ever been your hostage, there actually were tea and pleasantries. I thought maybe I was just special. It certainly seemed as if I was being kidnapped when you drugged me, but if that's not so then why exactly did you bring me out here?"