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The heroes of yesterday are dead and gone. Division and the Mutant Control Enforcement Agency (MCEA) saw to that. This dystopia we live in is the result of one anti-mutant hate crime that sparked the third world war. The law now requires mutants to register, to spend the rest of their lives being a number on a file with a tracking device on their wrist or in their bloodstream.

For a while, the children of fallen heroes started to work in the shadows as the new X-Men. Not all that long ago, the latest incarnation of the X-Men was brought down in flames by Division's efforts. Team members captured, Agents killed, Cosmic fire everywhere... It seems as though the days of the X-Men have come and gone once again. Or have they?

For a while, the children of fallen heroes started to work in the shadows as the new X-Men. Not all that long ago, the latest incarnation of the X-Men was brought down in flames by Division's efforts. Team members captured, Agents killed, Cosmic fire everywhere... It seems as though the days of the X-Men have come and gone once again. Or have they?

Notice: Human Division employees are still much needed, even if they're depowered mutants. We would also love to see more MHA, Morlock and Purifier affiliated characters.

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 SPEED 3: STRANGERS ON THE L-TRAIN, tag: sabine, open
MAX G. CASTLE
 Posted: Apr 10 2018, 11:40 PM
Quote

THE PUNISHER

PUNISHING thirty-six HE/HIM 116 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


01/03/39
Monday, 10:19am
The L-Train

Nothing said 'Happy New Year' quite like bringing napalm to a Neo-Nazi party. Spending three weeks in Chechnya, in the winter, had been something of a pleasant holiday for the Punisher up until the end. Nearly getting stabbed in the heart by a child was not exactly a proud moment for him. If it wasn't for the body armor, short blade and general lack of strength on the kid's part, his trip would have ended more than a little differently. Still, his hatred for people using children and civilians, even brainwashed ones, as shields had been enough to ensure that Castle got all the people on his to-do list.

The warlord known as Sokolov and his entire fascist regime were now off the board for good. While the warlord and his highest ranking officials were dead, someone had gotten away. Castle had no idea who this mystery person was, all he knew was that the party guest had escaped in a fully armored jeep. It was one of the reasons he'd had breakfast with Jack. If there was anyone he could talk shop with, it was the newest Daredevil. Then again, given Murdock's background and specific set of skills there had also been the possibility that Jack himself had been the mystery guest. Max had wanted to test those waters on that front in person.

Castle took a tentative sip out of his take away cup, wincing only slightly as the coffee touched his freshly split lip. Three weeks in Chechnya and not a mark on his face, twelve hours back in Chicago and a tweeker gets in a lucky punch. He wasn't particularly surprised, Max was still convinced that this godforsaken city was out to get him. Then again he was still the asshole who kept coming back for more. He shifted in faux listlessness as he waited for the train. Max didn't have to look at the time to know that the train was running late, at some point it had just become the L-Train's default setting.

It was the sweet spot between the morning rush and the average person's lunch hour so the ebb and flow of commuters wasn't all that bad. When the train eventually arrived Castle was careful not to run into anyone, or rather get run over by someone as he wove through the sea of people. He managed to succeed until inside his chosen car and bumped into a blonde, he cast a glance her way and mumbled "Sorry." Max continued on to find a place where he could idly size up his travel companions in relative peace. Nona liked to call him paranoid, but really he just liked to be prepared.

Bumping into the Blonde wasn't an accident, it had been calculated. Stories that the Ghost Rider had returned had been floating around for several months, with little solid proof to be found. Even though he'd been out of the country for a spell, The Punisher had kept his finger on the pulse of that story. He had narrowed down the possible hosts for the parasitic 'spirit of vengeance' and the most viable candidate seemed to be one Detective Dorsey. The blonde Tasmanian export was the detective's ex and the mother of Dorsey's only known child. He'd heard about her through Dorsey's partner, who just so happened to be one of Max's occasional CPD allies. Of course learning of "The Beast" had had nothing to do with the Ghost Rider at the time. There was really nothing he could do to aid the Ghost Rider's host, but knowing as much about him as possible was the best course of action.
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SABINE P. DEVERAUX
 Posted: May 7 2018, 07:39 PM
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THE BEAST

TROPHY WIDOW 30 She/Her 13 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© NERYS · She/Her · Offline


Paris had been in Chicago for a little over four months and still she didn't understand the appeal. It was overcrowded and so far, she hadn't liked any of the properties that her real estate agent had toured. If Amanda hadn't been making such excellent progress in her classes, Paris would have already transplanted them out of the country, likely to somewhere warmer and more likened to her homeland. Having money was a new concept for her, so the idea of spending it on frivolities like a personal driver and a car was ridiculous. No one here knew who she was, at least for now, and she was getting along just fine wearing off the rack and blending with the populace. It offered genuine reactions instead of a lot of ass kissing.

Today she opted to wear next to no makeup. She had her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and her attire made her look like a middle to lower class citizen who did most of her shopping in the big discount box stores. The 3/4 length shirt was in pale pink and she had a cardigan of grey tied around her waist to compliment the charcoal yoga pants and workout trainers. Slung to her back was a yoga mat and a small pack that contained a bottle of water and her personal effects. Life in Tasmania had given her street smarts. Most of her casual wear was designed to keep purse snatchers disinterested, and if there was one thing that she was good at it was fighting quick and dirty and then getting the hell out of the trouble.

When trouble bumped past Sabine gave him a passing glance, her eyes quick to judge, quick to see the edges that he wasn't doing anything to hide. His knuckles bore scrapes, he had a split lip, and his general stance told her that he walked like a person who was always expecting to get into a bar fight. Reading people was important in the wilds of Tasmania and this one was setting off all kinds of red flags. The train took another hard stop and she tightened her grip on the overhead ring and let her glance look over to the streets, as she took a silent account on how much longer she'd have to be on the crowded transport. AlchemY Studio was her destination, along with a Pilates class.

Doors closed and the car picked up speed. They rode on for a few minutes through the tunnel and then emerged on the elevated line which carved around the city. Just as they passed the first checkpoint, where the train could have gone west or north the bomb went off. The explosion took out a half a dozen windows, the conductor, and it had a few of the passengers in the front bleeding from various head and body wounds. Screams were abound everywhere as full chaos broke out. Sabine kept felt herself getting pushed as the tide of people who were able tried to scramble away from the gaping hole, ragged, metal, broken glass and even more broken people.
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