#rebuildplotdrop

[rebuildhq]

“Sometimes, if you want to change a man's mind, you have to change the mind of the man next to him first.” 

The party, as Doom had intended, was a stunning success. The civilians and superheroes were mingling, trusting that Doom and his military were going to keep them safe. Of course for the evening, the civilians and superheroes would be protected from any bodily harm, but the party was not solely for Doom’s public to enjoy themselves and realize how trustworthy he is. With the public outcry, Doom realized that he was not the only one invested in such… transparency. New Yorkers demanded that their superheroes aid his cause, and as such, he intended to release the names of those were forthcoming. The others, fortunately, would inevitably bend to the people’s will. Superheroes were obligated to fall into the hands of the people.

As Doom entered on the stage, the music immediately stopped playing and the crowd fell into a familiar silence. His appearances were admittedly sparse, but when they occurred, people were always thrilled to see Doom and hear what he had to say. Power was a funny thing and on Battleworld, it all belonged to him, particularly after his loyal subjects forced the heroes to comply to his will by signing the list. Doom had no intention of forcing them superheroes into anything -- quite the contrary, it drew a clear line of what threats would have to be subtly eliminated first. Those that signed were malleable, willing for the best interest of the majority, while those that refused would never join his cause.

“Good evening everyone,” Doom greeted, speaking clearly into the microphone. He forced an uncharacteristic smile on his features, fitting the mood of the evening thus far. “Firstly, I would like to thank all of you who have aided our noble pursuit for resources. We had enough to host this event and plenty more to spare. My government and I will be implementing a fair system to share resources among each and everyone of you, but we will discuss that in the morning. Currently, there’s no need to ruin our festivities, is there?” The crowd forced a chuckle in agreement and he nodded once in response. “Secondly, I would like to thank you all for coming. Without you New Yorkers, we would not be building some semblance of a civilization. Lastly, in the interest of protecting that very civilization, I must speak once more about transparency.”

Interested, the crowd murmured in response and looked to each other for an answer that would not come. No one knew of Doom’s intention to leak the list. Alexis was an excellent advisor, one he trusted minimally, but she was interested in protecting their heroes unlike Doom. Alexis had not personally experienced what a nuance superheroes truly were. “Without honesty, we will not survive our isolation,” he began. “New York needs to work closely in order for our community to thrive. We have no communication with Earth, with our friends, our allies, and that is a threat that I take seriously. Our primary means of defence is our superheroes, and while many have agreed to aid me and signed the list, many have not. Currently, I intend to take the only realistic step I can to change that.” His voice turned sorrowful and he paused, allowing the emotion to settle. It was all falsified, but to the public, it would look realistic. “I am truly, deeply sorry to do this, but I have no choice. I have been waiting patiently, but I refuse to risk any more of my public’s lives.” Doom raised his hand in silent command and suddenly, a list appeared on the wall behind him.

The crowd started loudly speaking, debating what had been revealed. On the broadcast behind Doom was the list of the superhero that had signed, though the details of their powers were not present. In order to clarify, Doom raised his hand and silence once again settled on the crowd. “This is the list of incredible, brave heroes that have agreed to list their powers with me, thus keeping us as a public safe. These individuals are incredible and I will be rewarding them accordingly once it’s possible. Those that have not are leaving New York City in danger, the Daily Bugle is correct in that assessment, and I hope that hearing the emotional pleas from myself and public will sway their judgment.” Of course Doom didn’t count on the superheroes changing their mind, they were a pigheaded bunch, but it would make his primary enemies obvious. “Thank you to all that have supported my list and my attempts to keep our city safe and working closely with me to do so. Please help me in convincing the others this is a necessary thing,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion still. “I love you all and from here on in, I have every intention of being more forthcoming. Goodnight New York, please continue to enjoy the party.” As Doom finished, he smiled once again at the civilians and then quietly left.

Once he rounded the corner away from the stage, Alexis cornered him, demanding, “What have you done?” As he suspected, she was angry about the situation.

“What is necessary,” he replied, moving past her easily. From Doom’s perspective, it was the only reasonable course of action, and it would guarantee his success.

What’s happened:

Doom has made the list of superheroes public, implying that they’re working closely with him in the process

Doom has promised to be honest going into the future in an attempt to help the public

After the sudden release of the list, things between Doom and Alexis Chamberlain are far more heated

Prompts:

Despite having a fairly public identity, Character A made the decision not to list their powers. When someone in the crowd recognizes them, the terrified public turns on them and Character B must help them escape.

Character A, a listed hero, is disgusted by the leaking of the list. They set out to find Doom and confront him while Character B struggles to talk them down.

The outraged public begins to get rowdy, and Characters A and B take it upon themselves to attempt to quell the crowd’s fears.

Intent on doing damage control, Character A asks Character B for help in deciding what should be done regarding the list’s leak.

Character A, previously unlisted, makes the decision to list their abilities in order to save themselves from the fallout. They ask Character B, who is already listed, to assist them.

Due to the chaos, Character A makes the decision to leave the party and attempts to convince Character B to join them. Character B wants to stay and assist with the fallout, leading to an argument.

After a few days to reassess the situation, Character A and Character B discuss the merits of signing/not signing, depending on their position.

[rebuildhq]

 There is no such thing as liberty. You only change one sort of domination for another.                                          All we can do is to choose our master.

The New Yorkers finally seemed aware of the peril they were theoretically in. From their naive perspectives, they were trapped far Earth, without resources and without hope of being saved. In truth, Doom was in complete control of Battleworld. If he desired resources on his planet, he could summon them, ensuring that all of his citizens were properly fed and comfortable. Battleworld had never been intended to be apocalyptic, and unlike nearsighted villains he had observed in the past, he had no desire to cause his citizens pain or suffering. Battleworld was intended for Doom to exercise the full range of his powers and to finally experience the respect he deserved and strove towards.

The heroes trapped that disrespected his rule would be dealt with accordingly, however, and when that time came, it would be swift. The plans he was formulating with the aid of Abraxas and Alexis Chamberlain were going to be flawless like the transition from New York to Battleworld, Doom would personally ensure it. The heroes, despite their intention to fight and return to Earth, would ultimately be beaten and submissive. To solidify his power, it was necessary.

For now, Doom simply wanted to prove to his subjects that he was trustworthy, an excellent leader, and more than capable of keeping all of New York City safe during their (indefinite) isolation. Unfortunately, magic was not capable of swaying their independent minds, and Doom was forced to rely on his charm and control of Battleworld. New Yorkers needed something and someone to believe it and in time, Doom would become both. It was a crucial step in his plan. After all, once he solidified the citizens of Battleworld’s trust, forcing the heroes to grow complicit would be simple. Their priority was allegedly public safety, and without the public’s support, heroes could do relatively little harm. Storming the beloved President’s doors would hardly reflect well on the Justice League, the Avengers, the Fantastic Four.

With the citizens beginning to panic about how New York could possibly thrive without their basic necessities met, Doom knew that it was nearly time to alter Battleworld’s terrain. Through Abraxas, he was aware where the foolish heroes had explored and where they had not. With that in mind, Doom began to formulate a spell to materialize resources. After he provided the public with the promise of survival, surely they could not turn against him. After personally holding a press conference, promising that as the President of New York City, Doom would find resources, no matter what cost, it was time.

Away from Alexis’s prying eyes and Abraxas’s foolish questions, Doom performed the necessary spell, summoning various resources to fill the empty plains of Battleworld. Wisely, he placed the majority where the demons were thickest, as if guarding the natural resources. He provided farmland, water, areas to mine, everything that would ensure Battleworld and its citizens would thrive.

The last step in his plan was to send a small military unit, ones that Doom had been publicly spotted with, allowing the media to paint a very friendly picture, out into the ‘empty’ abyss. His soldiers were not frightened but resolute and the map Doom had provided lead them near a small area where resources had been manifested, but subtle as to not rouse suspicion. If word got out, the heroes would insist on investigating, noble and curious as they were.

Three days later, three soldiers returned alive, albeit beaten, looking victorious. Alexis immediately allowed them to enter Doom’s figurative oval office, hidden away in the Empire State Building. Breathless, General Ford said, “Sir, we have found the resources we need.”

A long discussion debating the merits of sending their own personnel ensued, though Doom knew what the resolution would be. The demons were deadly enemies, wasting away men on entering Battleworld’s unpredictable terrain was futile, and that meant calling on heroes. That was yet another display of his power, proving to the public that he could build a long lasting relationship with heroes. It was what the majority of New Yorkers needed to witness, particularly after their city had been saved from Skrulls by the heroes.

Once the discussion was finished, Doom called Alexis to begin an emergency broadcast, and thirty minutes later, Doom was addressing his small nation. “Citizens of New York City,” he said with a rare smile. “Tonight, I come bearing only good news. As I promised, with the help of my incredible militia, we have found resources outside of our city. The terrain is dangerous, the demons are guarding it, but it will be our salvation. There’s farmland, there’s water, and there is mining should we need it. Not only that, but there is land we can grow more upon. However, as I said, it is dangerous. I don’t have the man or firepower to personally retrieve everything that we will need to thrive.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Because of that, I call upon our city’s great heroes. I ask for their bravery and their powers to help New York City not only survive, but thrive. We will need them to bring supplies forward and we will need them to guard our future farmers and miners.” A round of applause sounded in the small audience Alexis had gathered and Doom held a hand out to pause. “Please, any powered people listening, aid us in our time of need. We can’t do this without you. Thank you and goodnight, New York! If you have any questions, I will be mingling with the people to celebrate tonight.”

Proud of the impromptu speech he had given, Doom stepped off the podium and in the crowd to mingle with the public. The crowd was electric, gathering around him as they asked questions about whether their heroes would follow through. It was exactly as Doom had planned.

In the crowd, J. Jonah Jameson stepped onto a table, demanding attention, and as the reporter spoke, Doom couldn’t help but smile. “Our heroes need need to be list with Doom in order to help us. If our government doesn’t know their powers, how can we possibly work together? There’s elementals to help us garden, there’s people like Spider-Man that would be happy to defend us, and it is time they stop avoiding President Doom! We have to help each other, dammit.” J. Jonah Jameson paused for a moment before continuing, “President Doom isn’t demanding they step forward, and he isn’t demanding to know their identities! This is a man that can be trusted.”

A loud choruses of yeses resounded in response, music to Doom’s ears.

Already the public was turning on heroes and forcing them to trust Doom, he mused, pleased. Yes, before long Battleworld would completely be Doom’s own, as he had intended.

WHAT’S HAPPENED:

President Doom, aware that citizens were panicked about resources, used a spell in order to create areas on the outskirts of the city with water, farmland, food, mines, etc.

Following that, President Doom then sent his men out into the abyss, knowing that they would be able to find him and that the public would credit the President with ‘saving’ them.

President Doom addressed the public, informing them about the incredible development, and then called the heroes to action, begging them to help him save New York City and allow their city to thrive.

J. Jonah Jameson is now rallying the public, trying to force heroes to work closely with President Doom and list their powers. The public unfortunately agrees with J. Jonah Jameson’s analysis of the situation, turning citizens against the heroes who are not aiding the President’s efforts properly.

PROMPTS:

Moved by Doom’s call to action or pressured by J. Jonah Jameson’s demands, Character A makes the decision to list their powers with Doom. They approach Character B, who has already listed their abilities, and ask them for help.

If Character A wasn’t suspicious of Doom before, the sudden abundance of resources has certainly raised their suspicions now. Intent on finding out what exactly is going on, they enlist Character B to accompany them out into the wasteland in hopes of finding answers.

Grateful towards Doom for risking his own men to retrieve resources, Character A’s suspicions have softened. Character B, on the other hand, is more on edge than ever. Each character attempts to convince the other that their opinion of Doom is the right one.

Character A is an unlisted hero. When the public turns on them and attempts to attack them, they’re forced to flee as they cannot fight civilians. They wind up at Character B’s door, desperate for a place to lay low.

After Doom’s address, Character A decides to rise to the occasion and venture out into the abyss in hopes of retrieving more resources. Character B accompanies them, and the two experience the parts of the wasteland that no one else has been to before.

Suspicious of the convenience of Doom’s find, Character A asks Character B to assist them in speaking to -- or interrogating -- one of Doom’s soldiers.

Character A, a listed hero, has been asked to guard resources or assist in retrieving them. Character B is unlisted and intent on exploring regardless of what the rules may be, and runs into Character A in the process. Whether this ends in a confrontation or a conversation is up to you!

[rebuildhq]

               Really, 

                                what I'm aiming for is world domination! 

-- President Doom, probably

There was never a moment when Victor von Doom believed his plan would fail. He had assessed every detail, attempted the spell numerous times in order to ensure its success. His brilliance had never failed him in the past, although his goals were ultimately shallow which had lead to their failure. Creating Battleworld and modeling it in his image was ambitious, innovative, and though he was aware of the subtle flaws, like street names he had named after himself, and a museum relaying President Doom’s successes, his citizen’s altered memories kept them from questioning what had happened. Battleworld was their home now, he was unparalleled in power, and his secretary was informing him that it was time to hold a press conference.

As he stepped on to the stage, countless cameras began flashing, and Victor waved at his subjects. They were not Latverians, but they would suffice. New Yorkers seemed to possess a peculiar courage, a will to continue fighting when everything seemed helpless, and now that they were well within his control, he expected a revolution would occur. He would motivate New Yorkers to do something spectacular, form a new brand of person, but first he would earn their trust. Barack Obama had miraculously won their hearts and Victor intended to do the same through magic, wasting no time. “Good evening New York,” he called out to his city confidently. “Our efforts to rebuild our city after the Skrull Invasion are going exceedingly well. There’s still numerous blocks destroyed by the invaders, but I expect that by next month, New York will be more beautiful than ever!” As he spoke, applause rang out.

Immediately, several reporters began asking questions, and Victor gestured to one of them, allowing the woman to speak. “How do you intend to go about the rebuild now?”

The question was of little surprise. Unfortunately, New Yorkers were not thinking about the bigger picture. Selfish pursuits were unanimous among people, himself included until he realized his destiny in the design of Battleworld. “I have coordinated efforts personally with the CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper Potts. From here on in, she will be handling New York’s reconstruction and I will be working to ensure we are never attacked in this way again.”

As the woman stepped back, pleased with President Doom’s response, he called upon the next reporter. “President Doom, why have some some buildings and street signs been changed in our city?”

Now that question did surprise him. Victor truly believed that his citizens were oblivious to the subtle shift in ‘New York,’ though evidently, he had been wrong. Seemingly unfazed, he answered, “We have noticed the shift and we believe that the Skrulls are responsible for it, as they altered powers across the city. It is a matter that I have my best staff looking into.”

Once again, the reporters began shouting their questions, all relating the change. “That is all I will answer on this topic,” Victor said coldly.

As they once again lapsed into silence, Victor continued answering boring questions, reassuring the public that they were safe, that legislation would protect them which was laughable. Battleworld was undiscovered, but it was no longer a democracy like the United States of America.

As the press conference ended, Victor returned to the Empire State Building, his new political office. Luckily, the spell had no one questioning that particular change, but he believed that he deserved to run Battleworld in luxury. He had worked tirelessly in order to accomplish his rule.

Victor was not a foolish man. His plans had thousands of steps involved, and he had backups if those didn’t succeed. Despite being cautiously optimistic his brainwash would be flawless, he realized that it was highly unlikely. Bringing forth an advanced Doombot, Victor said, “Begin Operation Reckoning.” It was a codeword he had programmed into the bots’ mind, and he watched as it soared across Battleworld’s landscape, seeking what was on the outskirts.

Hours later, from his seat in the Empire State Building, Victor observed as the demons began flying over Battleworld. New Yorkers were preoccupied with the subtle changes to their city, accustomed to New York’s charm. With the demons infiltrating, they would no longer notice those.

The demons were under no strict orders to attack. Quite the opposite, Victor had ensured that the demons would only cause terror, and if attacked by wretched heroes, respond accordingly. He wanted Battleworld to be perfect, a city entirely ruled by him, and the demons were the guards that would ensure his vision was actualized. Every great ruler needed a secret security force, history had taught him that much.

WHAT HAS HAPPENED:

President Doom held a press conference where he answered the public’s burning questions, assuring them that ‘New York’ was in the process of being rebuilt.

After reports began questioning him about the changes throughout the city, President Doom gave an easy lie, blaming it on the Skrulls, and immediately shut down any further line of questioning.

After the press conference ended, Doctor Doom brought forth his ‘secret security force’ which are demons living on the outskirts of Battleworld. There are hundreds of these, and while they are not yet ordered to destroy or kill, they are ordered keep the public from questioning Battleworld any further and to ensure obedience.

If provoked, the demons will attack and they are vicious.

PROMPTS:

Person A was at the press conference and noticed President Doom’s brief anger during the line of questioning about New York’s changes. While explaining the peculiar reaction to Person B, a demon arrives, confirming Person A’s suspicions that something is not quite right in New York.

Person A and Person B are superheroes. Their job is to protect the world, and while the demons may not be attacking, they realize what a serious threat this could be become. Setting out to discover more about the demons, they quickly realize that while they’re largely harmless, the demons can be provoked.

Person A knows something is wrong. They realize that the line of questioning about New York’s sudden changes was purposeful and that the demons’ appearance is no coincidence. With all that in mind, they recruit Person B to begin a citywide search for proof that New York is different, and the Skrulls are not behind it.

Person A has some experience with Doctor Doom. They realize that a super villain is now leading their country, and while no one else seems to be questioning that, they are. After explaining this to Person B, the two of them attempt to find Doctor Doom’s long history of horrifying attacks, and come up empty. This could lead to a full scale investigation on President Doom!

Person A and Person B are very curious about the demons. They understand that they aren’t ransacking the city, but it isn’t exactly a calming sight. After the decide to approach the demons, they realize that they’re harmless, not provoking them in the slightest. It’s a very weird turn of events, but New York has seen weirder.

[rebuildhq]

          “Battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.”

The battle was far from easy. But it was far from a loss.

The heroes of Earth fought with everything they had. From the vigilantes fighting in the streets, to the saviors aboard the mothership itself, rescuing their fellow man. Prisoners were released by the dozens, too many to count, but all ferried to safety. Those in the street fought back Skrull soldiers, held a perimeter below the ship that no alien could cross. The battle began with a red dawn, a portent of the blood to be spilled that day. It continued well into the night, and though every hero felt exhaustion in their bones, they did not give up.

And their efforts were not in vain. The Skrulls among them were revealed and dealt with -- from foot soldiers to Queen Veranke herself. While the Skrulls battle-cry of ‘He loves us!’ continued long into the night, the tides slowly turned in favor of the planet Earth.

Sometime just before midnight, a loud scream tore through the air, and all eyes turned upward. The Skrull ship was coming down. The area already evacuated and the heroes energy spent, the citizens of New York could do little but watch as the massive ship fell from the sky, and smashed into several skyscrapers on the way down. Smoke billowed up from the crash sight. It was a horrifying display, terrible to see. But heroes and citizens alike gazed at the ruined ship and knew.

They had won.

Those gathered in the streets went silent, until someone let loose a single cry of joy. Then the cheering began, the hugging, the weeping, the collapsing from exhaustion. Every hero had fought so bravely, had bled not just for the city they called home, but for the planet as a whole. Friends turned to one another and embraced, lovers kissed, and many simply dropped where they stood, sitting among the rubble of the ship and marveling at their victory.

But it was short-lived.

A deep, booming voice rumbled through the entire city. It seemed to shake the very foundations of every building, rattled the bones of everyone who heard it.

“Your troubles are not over,” the voice announced, with an air of dread and low, throaty chuckle. “They are just beginning.”

People clung to one another, closed their eyes tightly, and waited. Was this some final trick of the Skrulls? Were they about to be utterly annihilated? But then --

Nothing happened. The mothership was still smoking in the center of the city. The Skrulls were still dead. The city was bruised and battered, but still standing. What then, had that mysterious voice meant? And who did it belong to?

Only a select few recognized that voice. Dr. Doom, they whispered among each other. But to avoid panic, the heroes of Earth picked themselves up once more, and began to clean up the mess the war had left behind.

Whatever Dr. Doom’s eerie prophecy contained… they were sure to find out soon enough.

Doom chuckled to himself as his transmission faded out. The pitiful heroes of the city did not yet understand -- did not yet sense the change that already had taken hold of their world. But they would soon come to realize precisely what had happened. That their world did not belong to them, or to the foolish Skrull race. It belonged to him. This was his universe. He would announce himself as their leader, their president, when the time was right. Until then, the entire city of New York would rest in this place, this pocket universe he had dubbed ‘Battleworld’ for his own amusement. And things would never, ever be the same. 

WHAT’S HAPPENED:

The Skrull war is over and won! Remaining Skrulls have either been imprisoned or killed, and the mothership crashed into the center of New York. There will be extensive damages, but the casualties were not nearly as high as they could have been.

There’s much to rejoice -- but much to fear. Dr. Doom’s voice rang out over the crowd, and announced that the troubles plaguing the city were far from over. Unknown to any, Dr. Doom has transported the city of New York to a pocket universe, cutting them off from the rest of not only their universe, but any other universe. Our heroes are trapped in this strange place called Battleworld, though they don’t yet realize it. 

The New Panel is in shambles following the Skrull War. With Bobbi Morse in Europe and Jessica Drew revealed to have long been a Skrull manipulating things from the inside, the public trust in heroes is a little shaky, despite their victory.

PROMPTS:

Your character can assist in the clean up/rebuilding of the city, but they will not be allowed outside city limits at this time, nor any contact with anyone outside of New York City. Details to come soon.

If your character feasibly could be reasoned to recognize Dr. Doom’s voice, they may band together with other heroes in order to investigate what he might be up to. Please contact the main with any specific thread ideas!

Any character who was registered or associated with the Panel, old or new, will be under a great deal of scrutiny. The age old question of ‘can heroes be trusted’ is asked once more by The Bugle and the city at large -- how is your character affected and how will they deal with these ramifications?

Feelings of distrust and betrayal might lead to high tensions between those who were replaced by Skrulls, and those who failed to notice. How does your character feel about the ordeal?

[rebuildhq]

Good evening everybody! We hope you’ve all had a fantastic day. 

Beneath the cut are the pairings for the new plot drop as well some extra information and prompts! As you can see, some characters will be losing their powers, dealing with new sets of powers, and gaining powers. We’re really excited to see the way this goes, and we hope you have fun with this! (Even if your character definitely will not…)

Please keep in mind that some sets of powers are hard to control, and we’d like to see that displayed. Remember the new limitations you’re about to write, too!

SWAPS:

Barry Allen (Flash) — superspeed (including lightning generation, increased metabolism, superhuman reflexes, strength, and improved thermal homeostasis), speed force connection & Lobo — super strength, enhanced durability and immortality

Bruce Banner (Hulk) — ability to change into the Hulk & T’Challa Udaku (Black Panther)  — enhanced speed/strength/stamina/durability

Bo Dawson — super-strength & Damian Wayne (Robin) — powerless

Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) — super soldier &  Felicia Hardy (Black Cat) — tychokinesis (bad luck magic)

Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel) — flight, energy blasts, super strength & Sharon Carter (Agent 13) — powerless

Charlie Webb — powerless & Koriand’r (Starfire) — Tamaran physiology (ability to absorb radiation, gains flight and energy blasts from this)

Cindy Moon (Silk) — super strength, spider senses, wall crawling & Tony Stark (Iron Man) — powerless

Clint Barton (Hawkeye) — powerless & Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver) — superspeed (including force generation, increased metabolism, superhuman reflexes, strength, and improved thermal homeostasis)

Daisy Johnson (Quake) — seismic manipulation & MJ Watson (Spinneret) — powerless

Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) — flight, super strength, accelerated healing factor & Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) — super strength, spider senses, wall crawling

Eddie Bloomberg (Kid Devil) — altered physical appearance, fire breathing, enhanced healing, ability to open portals & Kate Bishop (Hawkeye) — powerless

Emma Frost (White Queen) — telepathy& M’gann M’orzz (Miss Martian) — super strength, invincibility, flight, regeneration

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto) — metal manipulation & Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) — powerless

Jessica Jones — super strength & Loki Laufeyson — enhanced speed and strength, shapeshifting and astral projection

Johnny Storm (Human Torch) — fire kinesis & Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch) — telepathy, telekinesis, chaos magic

Jean Grey (Marvel Girl) — telepathy and telekinesis & Kara Danvers (Supergirl) — Kryptonian physiology (super-strength, super speed, flight, invulnerability, heat vision, freeze breath)

Lorna Dane (Polaris) — metal manipulation & John Constantine — powerless with some knowledge of the occult

Matt Murdock (Daredevil) — enhanced senses (lie detection) & Peter Parker (Spider-Man) — super strength, spider senses, wall crawling

Sam Wilson (Falcon) — powerless & Susan Storm (Invisible Woman) — ability to turn invisible, create force fields

Steve Rogers (Captain America) — super soldier & Ororo Munroe (Storm) — weather manipulation

INFO:

Now that everyone’s got their pairings, you have until Saturday 12 PM PST to plot and then the event officially begins! At that time, you can post all of your threads about the event, including open starters and closed ones.

We encourage all members to plot with both their partner with their characters reacting to the swap, and realizing who they’ve swapped with, and their friends/family/strangers to build upon existing connections and form new ones!

Below you can find some prompts for the event, and as always, we’re here if anyone has any questions.

PROMPTS:

Character A, who’s grown used to their abilities, suddenly finds themselves entirely powerless. Because they swapped with someone without any obvious abilities, the only way to find who has their powers is to look for someone actively displaying signs of their abilities. This will make it especially hard to find Character B if the abilities aren’t something that’s immediately obvious!

Character A and Character B have swapped powers. Whether they knew each other prior to the exchange or not, they find themselves stuck together now as they attempt to help each other navigate their newfound abilities and look for a way to swap back.

Finding themselves either with an entirely new powerset that they don’t know how to control or a set of powers that is not their own, Character A is completely unprepared when they are attacked. (The attacker can be an old enemy, a HYDRA agent, an angry civilian, etc., but please contact the main if you want to involve the Skrulls in any way!) They must learn to either fight without the powers they’ve grown to rely on or use the powers they currently have to diffuse the situation and make it out alive and unharmed.

Convinced that Character B has somehow stolen their powers with ill-intent, Character A reacts brashly and attempts to start a fight. However, doing so without their own abilities can be difficult, and it’s never going to go well. Whether Character B reacts with level-headedness or jumps into the fight is entirely up to you!

After losing their powers, Character A panics. They have little interest in finding out why their powers were swapped, they just want them back. It’s up to Character B to calm them down.

When the swap happens, some people notice instantaneously; others take a little longer to figure it out. Character A, for whatever reason, doesn’t realize their powers are gone or swapped until after they leave the event. This makes it harder to find out who has their powers or whose they’ve received, and they enlist Character B’s help in solving the mystery.

Chaos will naturally ensue when people find themselves with entirely different powers than they’re used to. Characters A and B are in a section of the crowd where the panic breaks out quickly -- maybe someone has suddenly found themselves with violent abilities they can’t control, or someone’s entire appearance has been changed by their swap -- and they have to band together in order to escape the chaos of the crowd unharmed.

Character A suddenly finds themselves more powerful than they’ve ever been in the past. Maybe they didn’t have powers before, maybe theirs just weren’t as intense as the ones they’ve found themselves with now, but the switch is obvious and incredible. They don’t want the switch to be temporary, and they decide to figure out exactly how it happened if only to keep their new abilities for themselves. Character B can either attempt to help them or stop them entirely.

In an opposite situation, Character A has gone from being incredibly powerful to either powerless or with a powerset far inferior to the one they’re used to. How does this change the way they interact with other people? (This can be done as a solo, a general open starter, or a plotted thread with other characters; whatever you see fit!

[rebuildhq]

                    You don’t know what you have, until it’s gone.

The air in the Panel was somber. To say the least.

Many were still uncertain as to what exactly had happened. All they knew was that two of the leaders, Bobbi Morse and Jessica Drew, had been holed up in their office for two days straight. No one was allowed to go inside, for any reason other than the impending end of the earth.

Even then, they were encouraged to handle the problem themselves.

But now they had emerged. Their faces were stone, utterly unreadable. “We’ll be holding a press conference outside in ten minutes,” Bobbi announced. She opened her mouth to say something else, but it seemed as if the words stuck in her throat. Jessica placed a hand on her shoulder, and nodded for her to go ahead.

“Be prepared,” Jessica said to the room. “There will be calls coming in. Questions that will need to be answered. You’ll all be receiving a memo in a few moments. Read it carefully, please.” Her voice was firm, as always, but there was a gentle edge there as well. That alone unnerved the room, despite the fact that all of them were Shield agents, heroes, and more.

Ten minutes later, the two women stood side by side at the podium that had been erected outside their building. Jessica Drew stood stoically, Bobbi Morse held a simple, single sheet of paper in her fingers. None could tell, but her hands were trembling ever so slightly. 

The press had been called, and surrounded the podium. But the respect (and a healthy dose of fear) kept them deadly silent. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Bobbi picked up her head.

“My name is Barbara Morse,” she said, eyes on the camera in front of her, not the paper in her hands. “I am one of the leaders of the New Panel. For the past several months, our team has sought to promote peace and cooperation with every person in this city. We have faced and foiled several threats, some more notable than others.” Her voice grew dark at these words. She clenched her jaw imperceptibly, and continued. “I have had the pleasure and privilege of serving with two of the strongest, most courageous women I know on this earth. Jessica Drew.” Here, she nodded to her colleague. Jessica returned the nod, her eyes never leaving the camera. “And Maria Hill.” A pause, poignant, full of tension, though none could guess at what was about to break. “Two days ago, Maria Hill, former head of SHIELD, was found dead in her home.”

A collective murmur broke out amongst the crowd. Bobbi held up a hand, and waited for silence before she continued. “Her death was highly suspicious. Maria Hill was a capable field agent, and had proven herself in battle time and time again. While the exact causes are still unclear, we have determined that her own weapon was used to kill her.” Her eyes were dry, stubbornly so. “Her wounds were not self-inflicted. I want to end those rumors before they begin. We will be investigating her death with the full force of the New Panel, working in cooperation with the NYPD. But I’m not here to comment on that, as the investigation is still underway.” 

She took a deep breath, steadying her hands on the podium. “Instead,” she said, her voice suddenly softer. It would be almost easy to miss if you didn’t know the woman. “We want to invite everyone – friends, family, everyone in the city, for she’s saved this city more times than I can count, and I did try – to come join us. We will be hosting a candlelight vigil in Times Square tonight, in memory of Maria Hill. So many of her deeds went unnoticed, so many of her missions will never be talked about, but her memory will not be forgotten. Please, join us.”

She stepped back, clutching the paper tightly. Jessica Drew nodded once to her, then leaned over the microphone. “Times Square. 7pm. That is all, thank you.” The reporters shouted questions and cameras flashed, but the two women paid them no heed.

They simply strode back into their building, and got back to work.

Times Square was packed. Filled to the brim. With the chill in the air, and the screens illuminating a sea of faces, it felt like New Years Eve.

But this was no celebration. 

One by one, the screens dimmed to black. A simple sentence appeared on each one. Maria Hill. 1982-2017. 

Lighters and plain white candles, with makeshift dixie cup holders, were passed around. Some had brought their own candles, clutched them close. A multitude of fiery, flickering lights shone around the square. It was equally breathtaking and heartbreaking. 

People began raising their candles high. Some were crying, even if they hadn’t known the woman. The loss felt monumental. Fear was thick in the air as well. If the Panel itself wasn’t safe, were any of them?

The answer to that question became readily apparent when the first screen began to flicker. It was when one of them winked out completely that the crowd took notice. Murmurs as to the cause spread through the crowd. Some were irritated, how could the electricity fail at a time like this? It felt like salt in the wound.

And then the ship materialized.

Screams tore through the crowd. Many had not seen a Skrull ship before, but they could all guess as to who was inside. “Citizens of New York,” called a guttural voice, distorted by the amplification. Candles fell to the ground as people clutched at their ears. A deep, rumbling laugh roared over the square.

“You make this too easy on us.”

People were screaming, crying, already trying to run. It made no difference.

A huge flash of green light spread throughout the city. It was like lightning, for a second, everything was so bright that it seemed like the middle of the day. Panic hit the square hard. Some fainted. Sirens began screaming through the air, for what good it would do.

And the superpowered among them immediately felt the shock. Even some of those who did not have powers felt with certainty that something wrong had just happened with that flash. But the ship had not moved. Some stood stock still, frozen in fear. Waiting to hear what else they would say.

“Enjoy our little… experiment,” the voice called. With that, the ship vanished, seemingly into thin air. The screens around Times Square immediately went haywire, a flash of images and static.

People began running, desperate to get home, desperate to escape whatever this ‘experiment’ was. But it was already too late.

Inside the Skrull mothership, the Skrull commander leaned back in their seat.

“That should occupy the foolish denizens of this world for some time,” he murmured. The atmosphere here could not have been more different than the planet below.

“Well done!”

“The Skrull will be victorious!”

“First Earth – then the Kree will fall!”

Various victory calls and battlecries tore through the ship. They had much to celebrate after all. This little diversion, an experiment they had intended for some time, would accomplish much. The least of which, to draw attention away from their chief operative, Veranke.

“It is unfortunate that our plans had to be rushed,” the leader said to the underling at his side. “But now we will be able to gather more data on the enhancements of these Earthlings.” Their gaze was fixed on the blue marble of the planet on his screen. “Let us see how they deal with the power swap,” they said, a grim expression on their face. It might have been joy, or at least curiosity. “It will be very telling.”

WHAT’S HAPPENED: 

 Maria Hill has been found dead in her apartment, shot with her own gun. It is considered a murder, but the killer is still at large. More details in this chatzy.

A candlelight vigil was held in Times Square in her memory. Many gathered (your character may or may not have been among them.)

During the vigil, the Skrulls appeared. A flash of green light encased the entire city. This light was a Skrull beam that swapped powers between superpowered people. Non-powered individuals may have been affected as well. If you so choose, you can message the main and include your character (powered or not). We will enter them into a randomizer and swap their powers with another character. Some characters will be rendered entirely powerless. Some will be dealing with an entirely different power than they’re used to. 

The power swap will last until we say otherwise. Please keep this in mind for threads set after this plot drop.

HOW TO PARTICIPATE:

Like our event a few months ago, this is a plot drop where we pair your characters. We’ll be using a randomizer, and they will be groups of two.

Your character may have an entirely different power or they may be powerless! The randomizer is choosing, though as the time allotted for plotting begins, we will be posting prompts.

Please keep in mind that it’s powers that are swapping, not technology! (For example, if your character got paired with Tony Stark, they would be powerless. They would not have access to the suit.)

All you need to is send an ask to say that you will be participating, and if you’re playing multiple characters, which ones exactly you want involved. Something like, “Hey guys, I’d love to be in the event! Please include Natasha, Wanda and Bobbi.” will be perfect! Alternatively, “Hey guys, I plan on participating in the event! I’d like for all my characters to be included, thank you.”

The sign up time will end on Thursday, December 7 at 8 PM PST, and the pairings will be posted. We’ll give you until Saturday at 12 PM PST to plot, and then the event officially begins!

If you have any questions about of this, please let us know! We can’t wait to get this started with you all.

[rebuildhq]

                        We shall create a new world order,                                                   for ourselves.

The government had promised a new beginning, swore that the Panel would begin anew, dedicated to the safety of superheroes and citizens alike. They claimed that New York’s streets would be cleaned, its buildings rebuilt, and the war forgotten. Rather than being spurred to action by the sudden disappearance of the Syndicate, they allegedly sat inside a small boardroom at an undisclosed location, discussing who could head their new organization, and what it would consist of.

Rather than learn from their past mistakes regarding rules and regulations, they filled pages upon pages of clauses, a lawyer nodding along in a corner, looking ecstatic.

“They must withstand tests to deduce their strength, speed, coordination and problem solving,” said one board member, looking pleased with himself.

It was then that three women entered the room, all familiar to the Panel members. The men wore mirrored expressions of shock, rattled by their mere appearance. They made a point of understanding their resources, Maria Hill was a master spy, Fury’s right hand woman, Jessica Drew was the infamous Spider-Woman, wielding venom blasts and perfecting allegedly impossible missions, and Mockingbird was a super-soldier, and a genius, having designed the serum herself.

Together, they ran the branch responsible for counterterrorism, ensuring their public was safety from any superpowered threats.

Together, they had stormed their boardroom.

Together, they levelled thinly veiled threats, and rewrote the rules for themselves, forcing each man in their own unique way to sign away his piece of the Panel in their names.

Simultaneously, each program was interrupted across New York, informing its citizens of breaking news. Some quickly turned off their TVs, unable to withstand any more horrific news, while others flipped to the required channel with rapt attention.

Before them stood a frail woman, her eyes wide, as she addressed her city, “We’ve just received news that the Panel has been taken over. An inside source claimed that three woman stormed their office, and have now taken control…” she trailed off, her eyes darting up there. “We’re just received word that there were no casualties or injuries in the process, but the Accords will never be the same.”

She paused again, putting a hand to her ear piece. Straightening, she feigned confidence, the composure of a newscaster with years of experience, rehashing tales of war and peace alike. “The women have released just released a statement confirming their identities and their intentions. We have the exclusive here. Dave, please show the public what they have said.”

An image flashed before the screen, unveiling the following:

Fellow Americans,

We understand that you’re worried for your safety. The Panel has caused a lot of pain, and it was beside the abuse of the people you idolize, some might be neighbours, some might be your children, but we assure you, this is a turning point. Together, we’ve rewritten the contract, allowing the heroes to keep their freedom if they choose to sign. We intend to operate as a team with no further military operation backing us.

We’ll be working in tandem with the Avengers and the Justice League and whoever else has plans to assist us. We’re on your side, we’re on your friends and families side, and we no longer tolerate any fear mongering.

Heroes identities, privacy, and freedom will be respected. The Accords are no longer means to control, but to help our planet thrive in the face of threats our security aren’t able to contain. With the discovery of aliens infiltrating our own government, we need to be united. Allow us to make this change, support those with the power to aid you, and encourage each and every person you know to take a stand against the corruption we face every single day.

Have a safe night,

Sincerely,

Mockingbird, Maria Hill and Spider-Woman

As the message finished filling the screens, the news anchor was revealed again, a relieved smile upon her face. There was a softness in her gaze as she addressed the camera this time, “There you have it, everybody. The Panel is no longer being controlled by our government, but by the heroes themselves. I understand that might frighten some of you, but our city is truly turning over a new leaf. Goodnight, New York City.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The room was crowded, filled to the brim with Skrulls both in their natural green form and already disguised as humans. In the front of the room stood a woman, dark hair covering her face partially. She wore a red outfit easily recognizable as the costume of Spider-Woman, and to the outer eye, that was who she was.

It would take Veranke time to get used to seeing this face in the mirror, she knew. She wasn’t accustomed to it yet. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever like it, even when she was more familiar with its features. She had never wanted to hide who she was, never wanted to conceal herself as something she wasn’t. Still, it was necessary. And using Jessica Drew would give her power. The woman was an Avenger, close to many of the world’s heroes who Veranke feared would cause them trouble later on. This way, she could learn of their plans before they were put into action. This way, she could fight back.

Straightening, Veranke cleared her throat, gathering the attention of room’s occupants. Instantly, a hush fell over the crowd. All eyes focused on the woman in front of the room; all attention was turned towards the queen. Veranke smiled at them, doing her best to look like the woman they all trusted despite the fact that her outward appearance had changed.

“When we predicted the end of Skrullos, we were laughed at,” she said, voice projecting throughout the room. “We faced ridicule, discrimination, and disbelief. When we were proven right, we received no pride in our victory. We lost our home, watched many of our own people die, and we were left isolated and desolate.” A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, and a few of the faces within her line of vision showed wide ranges of emotion. Anger, grief, desperation, all of it intensely relatable. No one knew the Skrulls’ pain the way Veranke herself did. She had suffered for her people, and though they loved her for it, the pain remained.

Running a hand through her hair, the queen continued. “If not for the help of others, we would have remained that way until our kind was wiped out entirely. We would have faded into nothingness on a world that would never have been our own. Never forget that we did not get to where we are on our own.” Without the help of Amora, without the portal she had opened for them, the Skrulls would have been lost. It was important that Veranke make her people remember that so when the time came, they would be willing to help her repay the favor. Veranke did not know what the Enchantress would ask for in return, but they needed to be willing to give it. They had to earn their place here, and Veranke intended to do it.

Pausing, Veranke looked over the crowd once more. They were intent, their eyes focused entirely on her and their postures rigid and at attention. They hung on her every word, waiting in bated breath for what she would say next. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. Veranke loved her people, but she loved the attention and respect they awarded her as well. She loved knowing that she was believed in, and she’d do anything to keep that faith. “You all know what we must do. This planet is vast, but it is not big enough to house our kind alongside the humans. Even if it were, they would not take to us kindly. They would treat us as second class citizens, hating us for our differences. You’ve seen how they react to even their own kind who are slightly different than the perceived norm. The way they treat their mutants, their inhumans, their metahumans and powered individuals will be considered a kindness compared to how they will treat us if we attempt to exist alongside them. If we want this planet, we must take it.”

Another murmur, low and uncertain but ultimately in agreement with Veranke’s statement. They’d observed Earth, after all, put one of their own in a powerful position to prepare for their arrival, and they’d seen the way humanity treated one another. They’d seen one of their own ruthlessly murdered because of the opinions he (and, of course, the man he’d initially replaced) expressed. They could not risk such a thing happening again.

“This will not be easy. They have many heroes who will wish to oppose us, many people with abilities who will use their power against us. If we want this planet for our own, if we want to survive, we need to take it quietly. We need to seize this world while their backs are turned. The invasion has already begun. Many of you here today are already in position in several places that will be useful to us later on. SHIELD, HYDRA, governments, police forces, these are all important groups to infiltrate. We still need more. We’ll be placing Skrulls in various positions among powered individuals. Avengers, X-Men, Justice League, the Brotherhood… We’ll need eyes on the inside of every one of these groups if we wish to make our plan succeed. I won’t lie to you; these positions will be among the most dangerous. This is why I myself have volunteered for one. I would not ask any of you to do anything that I myself am not willing to attempt. I won’t draft anyone into these groups. I need volunteers, people willing to lay down their lives so their people might live.”

Instantly, she saw faces steel, saw eyes harden and mouths draw into thin lines. She would have little issue getting Skrulls to take these positions. They were all eager to help their kind, eager to help the race survive even at the cost of their individual lives. Veranke felt a wave of pride wash over her at the knowledge.

“I will be accepting volunteers shortly, and I have a list of potential humans to be replaced on each team. I will allow you to choose your position if you have a preference. Thank you for your time and your attention. I know this is happening very quickly, but remember that it will be worth it in the end. Remember that we are right. He loves us.”

_______________________________________________________________________

WHAT HAS HAPPENED:

Jessica Drew was attacked, a staged operation by the Skrulls, the beginning stage of their plan for world domination. Veranke, the Skrull Queen, disguised herself as Jessica Drew and took over her identity.

Bobbi Morse and Maria Hill, accompanied by Veranke, disguised as Jessica Drew, infiltrated the Panel and forced its operator's hands to give them control. Together, they’ve pledged to the public a promise of a better future, filled with new rules (or lack thereof) for the heroes to band together in the face of the new alien threat against their planet.

After infiltrating the Panel, ensuring that Jessica had a front row seat in knowing both the Avengers’ and the registered heroes’ plans, Veranke addressed her people, calling them to arms. Together, the Skrulls will begin anew, starting with taking over their trusted leaders’ bodies.

WHAT YOU CAN DO:

You may be allowed to have your character taken over by Skrulls IF you message the main first with a thorough plan about what you intend to do. This is a major arc, and we expect our members to be dedicated to it! Your character’s natural form will be imprisoned, although they will not be killed. They may still act the same due to the fact that Skrulls have access to their memories, ensuring a natural manner.

WHAT YOU CANNOT DO:

Godmod! We understand that you know Veranke is Jessica, for example, but your characters don’t! Same with future players that have been taken over by Skrulls. Eventually, the plot with get to that point, but it takes time.

We love you and all and we truly trust that you all won’t interfere with any players arcs. Now, without further ado, let’s get to prompts!

PROMPTS:

Thanks to promise of the new Panel, Character A may want to sign! They had all the freedom in the world to act as their own entity, our heroes have just made it so they’re a team, working together against future threats. Character B may support this choice or dispute it, depending on their viewpoint.

Character A has already signed, but wants to get more involved thanks to the promise of a benign organization. Character B helps them with that quest, giving them duties and assigning differents tasks. (For a registered hero + one of the new leaders, preferably!)

Character A and B get into an altercation set up by the Skrulls and barely make it out (one may not, should you choose to discuss having them Skrulled with us!) This would be a grisly fight, due to the fact that they’re extremely intelligent beings, and fully intend on imprisoning your characters.

Character A has been captured by the Skrulls, unbeknownst to them, due to their human forms. Character B saves them in the nick of them, but unfortunately learns little about their new alien enemy.

**We understand that this is brand new terrain we’re embarking on. If anything is unclear, please message the main! We’re here to make this a wonderful experience for you all.

Now, get to plotting! The alien invasion is only beginning.

[rebuildhq]

                                    Know thyself. Know thy enemy.                                A thousand battles, a thousand victories.

 The quiet was unsettling. The citizens of New York had grown used to explosions, screams, the sound of death and battle raging on every corner. But one night, it was over. Registered and Unregistered, hero and citizen alike, ventured into the streets, but no Strike Force appeared. No hooded Syndicate figures. Everyone stood and waited, a few even dared to hope.

When the sun rose without bloodshed, the relief in the city was palpable. Early in the morning, a broadcast came over the news. “Karl Orse has been arrested for treason,” a young woman declared. “The Strike Force disbanded. We’re still waiting on reports about the Syndicate, but thus far, they have not been seen on the streets. Attilan is little more than ruins.”

She and the other newscaster went on to describe how Orse was found and taken in by the proper authorities. How nothing had been seen or heard from in Attilan. How the Strike Force members would face charges, too, though many had disappeared. How the curfew was finally lifted, and how major changes would be coming in terms of the Superhero Accords. The Accords and Accountability Panel would be under new management. The chairman had yet to be decided. But the important part was, the war was over.

Over the next few days, the cleanup began. Just like after 9/11, the city came together. Stores were fixed and restocked. Homes rebuilt. The wounded stabilized. For those few days, crime was at an all-time low. The entire city worked to restore everything that had been lost, and nearly lost.

And they all waited for the trial to begin.

The Syndicate had all but vanished. A few hooded figures were spotted and arrested, but most managed to pop their cyanide pills. Those that didn’t, refused to speak. No one knew what had happened to the organization, but few were sorry to see it go.

Orse’s trial was rushed, due to public outcry. Crowds gathered outside the courthouse, waiting for him to appear. Many had signs. Most were there to speak out against him, but some supporters still held strong on the opposite side. One side chanted “Free Orse, Free Our City!” and the other chanted “No More Accords, No More Wars!”

The man himself seemed strangely calm through the entire ordeal. He stepped out of the prison van slowly, head held high, dressed in a military officer’s uniform. Some saw this as proof of his innocence, others called it a vicious mockery, a slap in the face. Salt in the wound. And there were plenty of wounds.

He did not wave or smile, his face was stone. But his eyes were shining, shining in that vicious, cold way that the city had become so accustomed to. He stared straight forward, at neither supporters nor detractors. People screamed, shouted obscenities. But it was as if he heard none of it.

At the top of the steps he stopped. Froze for a moment. The few who could see his face said that for a moment, he closed his eyes. And was suddenly tense.

Then the shot rang out.

One shot was all it took. A single bullet tore through Orse’s skull, spattering blood and bone fragments onto the steps of the courthouse. The officers escorting him jumped back, but not because of the bullets. They stepped back, because the body that hit the ground, was not human.

Screams of fear tore out now. News cameras zoomed in on the body, green skin, pointed ears, strange markings on their chin. Many ran, and the news spread quickly. The fear returned The city had experience with aliens. Many of them. Almost none of it good.

Unconfirmed reports that Orse was an alien quickly became fact. Confirmed, on the evening news. What kind exactly, no one seemed sure. But a few key members of the government were given key information, information they kept from public knowledge. And of course, some in the city recognized the species immediately.

Orse was a Skrull. A race able to change their appearance at will. The oldest known empire still in existence. What once had been a single planet dubbed ‘Skrullos” in the Andromeda Galaxy, had over ten of million years, built themselves into one of the most formidable and imperialistic races in the universe.

Those who knew were afraid.

Those who knew nothing were afraid.

The city was once again quiet. But the silence this time came from fear, instead of peace.

[rebuildhq]

This is a Call to Arms!

All volunteers, both heroes, and do-gooders alike, please report for duty below the cut!

The city has been in disarray for long enough. The attacks from both the Syndicate and the Panel are no longer acceptable, and right now is the time for New York to finally be ours again.

These group pairings, plus the event upcoming on Wednesday, is this seasons all out war reenacted.

PS: I suggest using Skype, Discord, Chatzy, etc or another form of communication so you can all talk together!

Bart Allen, Peter Parker, M’Gann M’Orzz

Stephen Strange, Scott Summers,  Bruce Banner

Jessica Jones, Serenity Willow, Wanda Maximoff

Liss Amaquelin, Raven, Joker

Nebula, Wade Wilson, Elsa Bloodstone

Elektra Natchios, Helena Bertinelli, Bobby Drake

Angelica Jones, Diana Prince, James Rhodey

Tony Stark, Carol Danvers, Thor

Harleen Quinzel, Katherine Pryde, Sharon Carter

John Constantine, Zatanna Zatara, Sam Wilson

Mary Jane Watson, Clint Barton, Pietro Maximoff

Eugene Thompson, Loki, Dick Grayson

Barry Allen, Cassie Lang, Bobbi Morse

Lobo, Kara Danvers, Charlotte Webb

Gwen Stacy, Kate Bishop, Barbara Gordon

Jessica Drew, Natasha Romanoff, Renee Montoya

We wanted to post these + prompts right beneath before the event officially starts so everyone has time to plot! Feel free to get creative, these are just some suggestions so everyone has an idea about what to do in your group.

PROMPTS:

The city has been in disarray for long enough. The Syndicate has been staging attacks all across New York ruthlessly, resulting in gruesome murders, hospital stays, and civilians being harmed in the process. Your group, or a few members of your group, is their newest target. This will be an ambush, designed for heroes to ultimately get killed as a result of. Keep in mind that the Syndicate are skilled opponents, they won’t make it out of this easily. This attack is something that the organization planned. Your characters can be ambushed in their homes, on the street, where another hero they haven’t met observes and intervenes. The location is all up to you, just ensure that this is a tense fight!

Your group has finally had enough. Whether they teamed up along the way or planned this strike is up to you, of course. They discovered Attilan is a base of operations for the Syndicate and have decided to storm its gates guns blazing. This will be a huge risk for your characters. The Syndicate are clever enemies, and they do not care about the life around them. Their defense will be strong, implementing guns, grenades, and anything else that is necessary in order to defend their home. Your group will be in a lot of danger if you choose to go in this direction, these are no longer threads where there’s a buffering zone. This is an all out battle! Please think carefully about possible repercussions if you choose to have your group march on Attilan.

One or more members of your group are unregistered and were caught patrolling the city after curfew. Whether or not a fight ensued is irrelevant; in the end, the Strike Force won out, and the unregistered vigilantes were brought in as prisoners under the Sokovia Accords and placed in holding cells. The other member/members of your group are registered heroes. After seeing the violence brought on by the Accords and the Strike Force’s ready willingness to pull the trigger on anyone, they’ve lost faith in a cause they once supported and are looking for a way out. On their way through the Panel facility they stumble upon the unregistered vigilantes in the holding cells and perform an impromptu jailbreak to ease their guilty conscience. The alarms that went off were instantaneous, and now your group must work together in order to escape the Panel’s facility with both their lives and their freedom intact.

Your group are out patrolling the city streets searching for the Syndicate. Whether they started out as a team or stumbled upon each other and teamed up on the way makes no difference. While patrolling, the group is cornered by the Strike Force in a scenario that leaves only two options: surrender and go peacefully or work together and fight. This is a scenario that could end in arrest, injury, or even death for anyone involved, and characters should keep in mind that the Strike Force are government agents who truly believe in the cause they fight for. They are also well-trained and will not be easy opponents.

[rebuildhq]

                               New York City will never be the same.

It had been nearly a month, since New York City fell into war. The tensions had been mounting for over a year, but Karl Orse’s declaration, and his subsequent refusal to give up control of the Strike Force, was the final straw that pushed the city to its boiling point. The Syndicate grew more brazen. The Strike Force more ruthless. Unregistered and Registered heroes were caught directly in the center – as were the citizens of the city.

The day began quietly, like any other in the new order of things. Syndicate forces attacked a Strike Force warehouse where weapons were being stored. In the ensuing chaos, a bomb exploded, taking half of the street with it. Luckily, most of the buildings were unoccupied. Causalities were minimal.

The Strike Force reported the attempted to raid to Orse. Orse looked out from his high-rise, the penthouse suite, which afforded him a picture-perfect view of the Hudson. He ordered his men to seek ‘justice’ for the slight, which meant attacking the Syndicate in their home base: Attilan.

A ship was commandeered for the mission. Without seeking approval, the Strike Force boarded an ordinary cruise ship, one that was scheduled to tour the Hudson and the city coast. Families and children were aboard. The civilians had no choice but to comply, but when the boat approached the floating city, people began to panic. A Strike Force soldier fired his weapon to regain order, but the bullet ricocheted into a young child. The child did not survive. A bloody riot was started.

News of the child’s death spread quickly. More riots sprang up. Citizens took to the streets en masse. The NYPD was flooded with reports of looting, fires, and public destruction. The city’s rage would not be quelled.

Deep in the heart of Attilan, the Syndicate leader watched the news reports come in. She turned to her cult, and with a nod, they understood. It was time to end this.

Orse felt similarly. He gave orders to his men to secure the city – by whatever means necessary.

The Unregistered heroes who had gathered under Captain America’s call to arms, decided enough was enough. Enough innocent blood had been shed. It was time for heroes to clear their names, and to prove that they could make a difference.

The Registered heroes, who had signed the Accords in order to take responsibility for their actions, decided that accountability meant little if those they were accountable for were corrupt. The Panel had been in utter disarray since Orse’s proclamation, and by and large, the Registered were on their own to handle this crisis.

Strike Force troops landed on the shore of Attilan. Syndicate forces were spotted in every corner of the city.

And heroes? There was no shortage of them. They would fight for peace, no matter the cost. No matter what side they had been on. The lines were blurred and bloody now.

New York City was on fire. But some still hoped that the flames could be doused. That peace could once again come to the city. It would not be easily attained. And it would be dangerously wrought.

The week had barely begun, but Wednesday July 26, soon began to be called the ‘End of Days.’

WHAT’S HAPPENED:

It’s all-out war. The city is in chaos. Your character must choose how and when they will enter the fray, because staying on the sidelines is no longer an option. Destruction, death, and danger lurks around every corner. No one is holding back anymore. Civilians are caught in the crossfire, Syndicates are attempting to take out everyone they can, and the Strike Force is enacting a hostile take-over under Orse’s command.

Please refer to these prompts and pairings for the event. You are also free to explore other options and start other threads, but after a week, the fighting will cease. So write quickly!

As always, any major developments, like serious injury or death, should be run by the admins before enacted in a thread.

Enjoy the chaos. It will all be over soon.

The event will last one week. Ending next Wednesday at midnight EST.

Tag your starters with rebuildevent2. But please keep the rebuildevents tag clear!

[rebuildhq]

This was not the end.

The official notice had been given to him an hour ago. Orse had read it over several times, searching for loopholes. But it was air-tight – the other idiots on the Panel had risen far above their usual incompetence for the first time in months. But he would not go quietly.

He sat at the desk, which had now grown so familiar to the public. Despite this unfortunate turn of events, he knew that many would mourn his presence here. He nodded to the cameraman, and picked up the speech that had been written for him.

“My fellow citizens,” he began, as always. “It is with great sorrow that I speak to you tonight.” He paused, glancing at the thin paper in his hands. It went on to speak of his voluntary resignation, how he would be stepping down so that he might take responsibility for the failures of the Panel. Accountability. That’s what it all came down to, it had always been this way. He would lead by example, one last time.

Or he could lead through strength.

Calmly, as if nothing had happened, he set the speech down neatly. Looked up at the camera with those pale, nearly colorless eyes that could still stare so intensely, at both friend and foe. “This city has been covered in a shadow for too long, and I wish I could tell you that this shadow has finally passed, that the clouds have cleared and the sky shines once more over you, my fellow citizens. But it does not. Too many still stand in the way, blocking out the sun, blocking out progress. Too many still threaten the way forward. I speak to you tonight with sorrow in my heart, because the time has come for drastic measures.” Something had to be done.

“The Syndicate is still among us. Unregistered heroes refuse to come forward, refuse to see the light and help spread that light to all of you. They are selfish. And I am done waiting.” He stared into the camera. Pausing, not for effect as he usually did, but to steel himself.

“My fellow citizens,” he said in that low, gravelly voice. “I am declaring open war on all who oppose the Panel. On all who question the decisions we have so carefully come to, crafted in order to keep you all safe. Whether they wear a hood or a mask, they have proven themselves enemies. They have killed. They have blown up buildings. They have made you afraid. And they will never stop, unless we make them stop. We cannot afford to cower, cannot show them any weakness. We must take what fear they have tried to instill in your hearts, and rip it out. We must be strong. Only through strength, through unity, will we win.”

He nodded to the cameraman. “Thank you, my fellow citizens. This is my last broadcasat to you, until this crisis is over. Next time I speak to you, it will be in the light, with this shadow far behind us.”

Deep in the heart of Attilan, the Syndicate leader watched the broadcast. And she smiled, though none could see under her heavy hood.

“The time has come,” she agreed, tapping Orse’s face on the screen. She imagined scratching out those pale eyes, wearing them as trophies around her neck. But she was no barbarian. It was merely a fantasy. Orse was human, after all. Not one of them.

She turned and strode into the royal chamber, where the others had gathered. They waited for her. They were so perfectly loyal, so obedient. And she did not have to force it into them. No, this was something they craved. They were willing to die for the cause, because it was just and right. Because it was everything they’d ever wanted.

The Syndicate leader crossed the room until she stood in front of the throne. Once, the royal family of Inhumans had sat in these seats. Now, no one did. No one group sat above the others, no one was more powerful. They looked to her as leader, but she’d merely been the first. They were equals. If she were to fall, another could continue on their noble cause. Cut off the head of the beast, and in an instant, three more would grow in its place. Like an old legend.

But they were not legendary. They were merely those who were tired of seeing their city fall to ruin, in the name of those who considered themselves legends. Heroes. Mutants. Inhumans, metas, gifted. They had so many titles for themselves. Only one mattered.

Freak.

She turned to the crowd of hooded figures in front of her. All holding their breath, awaiting her command. Silently. She smiled again under her hood, then uttered a single word.

“War.”                                      

A cheer rose out among the crowd. It passed quickly, before they departed to prepare themselves. They had been ready for weeks, they knew what to do. They all had targets, unregistered and registered alike, and any who stood in their way. They would attempt to keep civilian casualties to a minimum, but it was not a priority. You couldn’t make an omelette without cracking some eggs, after all. Some bloodshed now would mean saving thousands of lives, normal lives, in the future. They would take to the streets tonight, and their justice would be swift, bloody, and all-encompassing.

Perhaps they had picked the wrong code word. This was not war. It was an extermination.

WHAT’S HAPPENED:

Orse has been fired as head of the Accords and Accountability Panel. Rather than accept his resignation quietly, he used his last broadcast to declare open war on the Syndicate and Unregistered heroes.

The Strike Force is now authorized to shoot on sight. Many answer to Orse alone, and still stand by him.

The Syndicate in response have moved into the final phase of their plan: exterminating all heroes, all superpowered individuals. They do not care about casualties, they will do whatever it takes to eradicate anyone different from the city.

Each Syndicate member has been assigned a target, a gifted individual or a hero, or someone close to such a person. They will attack swiftly and without mercy.

The streets are more dangerous than ever. Fights can break out at any time. The Strike Force and the Syndicate are likely to cross paths and attempt to destroy each other, and anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire.

Until the admins say otherwise, the war will continue. Please contact us about major plot developments or if you have any questions/concerns!

PROMPTS:

Solo/Civilian:

A solo of your character facing down the member of the Syndicate that has been sent after them. This can be an easy win, a struggle, your character can be injured (although not gravely without running it by us first!)

A civilian witnessing fights on the streets, either breaking it apart (or attempting to), or recording it and sending into a news anchor so things must finally be changed. 

A civilian taking the side of either the Syndicate or the heroes and demanding retribution for all the chaos across New York City. They can start a protest, write up a blog post, or contact a journalist in game!

Heroes: 

A pair of heroes that have teamed up against the Syndicate and get cornered by the Syndicate members in charge of taking them out. This can result in a fight, a heroic save or an escape due to being outnumbered/out matched. 

A pair of heroes dedicating their time to infiltrating the Syndicate before things are too late. They can reach Attilan at this point, although we ask that they DO NOT penetrate the castle walls. 

Heroes allying together in a group thread, planning a strike, their next move, etc! It’d be nice to see this as a cross between those who signed and those that did not. They have a common enemy now.

[rebuildhq]

Every television simultaneously flicked on. Three hooded figures appeared on every screen across the city.

They were holding knives. Bloody knives. “Let’s dispense with pleasantries,” said the middle figure, her voice a cool, collected whisper. “We are the Syndicate. And we are responsible for the death of Trish Walker.”

The entire city seemed to gasp, and the woman paused as if she could hear it. Her gloved fingers ran along the blade. “We had hoped our message would not need to be so blatantly stated. But you, dear citizens, are so good at ignoring what is right in front of you. The deaths of a few Inhumans and freaks are so easily covered up. The body of a ‘hero’ left in Times Square so quickly forgotten.” She spoke the word hero with a heavy disdain.

The figure straightened up, the hooded men behind her stock-still, standing like vanguards. “But our pain is not forgotten. For too long have we allowed these unnatural creatures to exist among us. To threaten our lives, our homes, our families. No more. No more will we cower in fear and mourn quietly while all around us, those things reign down hell in the name of ‘saving us.’”

It was impossible to see her face, but her sneer was clearly audible. “The Panel sought to control them. But it is clear that these animals cannot be controlled. They are wild, feral, and dangerous. And dangerous animals must be put down, for the greater good of society. For a normal society to once again be free to flourish. Sacrifice is necessary, and we of the Syndicate are willing to give our lives to see our goals become reality. Every hero, every ‘gifted’ person, every freak who wears a mask and leaves destruction in their wake, will be eliminated. Only then can we reclaim our city, our world from the blight of so-called superheroes.”

She held up the knife now, the blade glinting as if the blood was still fresh. Perhaps it still was -- there was no way to tell if this was a recording or a live broadcast. “Trish Walker defended heroes, and look at what it brought her. She claimed to be one of them, but we believe the ‘most honest voice in New York’ was nothing more than a liar. If you stand against us, your blood shall be the sacrifice paid to open the door to a new world, a safe and normal world. A sane world, cleansed of insanity by any means necessary.”

She passed the blade to one of them behind her. Folded her hands together beneath her long, dark robes as if she were a monk, praying. “But if you feel as we feel. If you see what we see, if you too long for the terror to cease, then we invite you to join us. We will find you, and we will welcome you with open arms. Consider this our last invitation -- and our last warning.” And the screen went black.

Half an hour later, The Panel announced a special broadcast. Karl Orse once again appeared at his stark desk, though no papers were in front of him this time.

“Greetings, citizens,” he said in a serious voice. His face, usually so stoic, was twisted in a deep frown. “We all know the fate of Ms. Walker. She was not only a beloved child-star, a trusted voice in these troubled times, and a person of upstanding moral character and judgment -- she was also a valued member of our team. Despite her comments in her final broadcast, we on the Accords and Accountability Panel deeply regret losing her.”

A heavy sigh left his lips. It seemed stiff and awkward, not quite human. His pale eyes fixed on the screen, and though they were watery, they were as fierce as ever. “Ms. Walker believed in the Accords. Whatever else you may take from this tragedy, please remember that. She believed that being a hero was a privilege, and not a right. That it was a responsibility that should not be taken lightly. Accountability is one and only goal, protecting each and every citizen by holding heroes to a higher standard, to face the weight of the role they choose to take on. It is no easy task, being a hero, or being one of those who watches them. Who watches over them, and over every citizen of this city.”

He paused, hands folded lightly in front of him. “We have failed Ms. Walker. In the name of Accountability, we admit that. Just as we failed the unregistered hero who met his untimely fate in Times Square, and the countless more before him. But my fellow citizens, we are not the enemy. We never have been.”

His face grew stern now, eyes colder than ever before. “The so-called Syndicate has stepped forward and told you themselves the horrors they committed. Their ‘safe world’ comes at too high a cost, and we on the Panel do not believe in paying for peace with bloodshed. We renounce these people, see them for what they truly are -- a cult, preying on fear and weakness. Do not be swayed by them. We must stand strong if we are to face this new threat. We must stand together. A wise king once said, ‘United we stand, divided we fall.’ And though he was nothing more than literary character, his words ring with truth.”

Orse leaned forward, towards the camera. “It is time we put aside our differences, and choose security over secrecy. We once again implore all unreigstered heroes to come forward, to stand with us, to fight against this cult and bring them to justice. A humane justice, a responsible justice. A true justice. We cannot do it alone. And thus we have made a difficult, but unanimous decision. We hereby waive all criminal charges that may arise from those who would seek to register. Whatever you may have done in the past, it is the present that matters now. If we wish to protect the future, time is of the essence. And as Ms. Walker has shown us, time is a luxury we do not have.”

He let the words sink in for a moment, as he sat back in his chair. His hands fell to his lap, hidden by the plain, empty desk. “The choice is yours, citizen and hero alike. We can allow our city to bow to terrorism, or we can stand tall and stand for justice. Goodnight, citizens. May tomorrow bring a brighter future, in spite of all that we have lost.”

“Five minutes of airtime,” the hacker promised, a bracing smile on her lips. “Then you’re on your own, Cap.”

Steve nodded. He could work with that. An hour ago, he was worrying over what to do next. How to help. Now, it was what to say. That was easier. Saying the right thing wasn’t as easy as doing the right thing, but it could be done. Sam once wondered if Steve pulled the words out of thin air, or memorized a script. The truth was, it was something in between.

Agent Johnson motioned to him. “And live, from Saturday Night,” she murmured.

Steve set his gaze on the camera. Attention, he thought, but changed his mind. This wasn’t a call to arms to the agents of SHIELD. This was a message to everyone in Times Square, a plea to keep going to the everyday people. “Hello,” he began, “this is Steve Rogers. In the words of this ‘Syndicate’, I’ll dispense with the pleasantries.” He paused, seeing Johnson’s smirk of amusement in the corner of his eye. “I’m here to talk to you about the Accords.” Steve would bet every cent to his name that some expected this to be the end of it. He could easily throw in the towel now—raise the white flag. He could, but he wouldn’t. Not ever. “Some of you out there have been hunting me down. Some of you stand with me, after all this time. I’m here to talk to both of you, and everyone in the middle, still not sure what’s right. What’s best. Listen to me, now, like you listened to the Syndicate and Orse. The right thing to do is to keep fighting,” Steve continued, looking down for a moment at the shield lying on the table in front of him. He could see Howard’s handiwork in the grooves, Peggy’s bullets near the center, Bucky’s catch as the Winter Soldier, Clint’s hand off against Ultron, and Natasha’s own volley—always picking up after you boys. The shield has always been held by heroes, heroes just as brave as Hellcat.

He lifted his gaze back to the camera. “The Syndicate wants you to stop. The Panel wants you to stop. Stop fighting this ridiculous, losing battle against them. A fight they started,” Steve reminded them, sternly as he dared. “They aren’t against action, though. They’re against you. Us. The ‘gifted’ and the ‘freaks’. They want to reclaim the city and the world from the people who make it better. I quote Trish Walker—I’m sick of this bullshit, aren’t you?” He demanded, leaning forward a little. “They both want to steal your freedom. They both want to steal the world from you. Trish Walker died for it. Trish Walker and that masked boy were murdered for upsetting the status quo.” Steve felt a flush of anger rising on his neck. That, at least, hadn’t been washed away by the serum. “Orse, meanwhile, calls this a tragedy. ‘United we stand’, he says. He’s got it wrong. He wants you to forget about the sword hanging over your heads when you blame the Syndicate for Miss Walker’s death, for that boy’s death. He’s wrong. Hear me? The Panel and the Syndicate are both responsible, and it’s up to us—up to you—to unite against them. See them for what they are: the common enemy. Orse wants security over secrecy,” Steve went on, coldly. “At a price. The price of your identity. I’m not willing to pay that price. Not this time, and neither should you. Stand for the right thing. Stand together. Stand as bravely as Miss Walker did, when she held the line until the end.” Steve paused again, letting it sink in. “I won’t speak for the Avengers, but I am speaking for myself, and for the Justice League. We’ve set aside our differences for the greater good, you see. For you.

“Compromise where you can, a friend of mine once said. Where you can’t, don’t. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move, it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye, and say ‘No, you move’. I know I’m asking for a lot,” Steve said, acknowledging Johnson’s wrap-it-up gesture. He’d given them enough to chew on. “But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to give you the right to choose. The right to freedom. The right to privacy. The right to do what’s right, to the best of your ability. Goodnight, and thanks for listening.”

WHAT’S HAPPENED:

Trish Walker was brutally murdered in a live broadcast at 9pm last night.

The Syndicate have stepped forward out of the shadows. In a pre-recorded message, they claim responsibility for killing Trish Walker, the boy in Times Square, and the other brutal murders of Inhumans and heroes that have occurred over the last few months. Their message is clear: they want a world free of ‘freaks,’ and will kill to make it a reality. They warn those against them to stand aside, and those who agree to join them as quickly as possible.

The Accords and Accountability Panel gave a broadcast after the Syndicate’s message. Mr. Orse spoke of the Panel’s grief over losing Trish, their spokesperson, and once again implored all unreigstered individuals to come forward. The Panel has decided to waive all criminal charges that might arise against them, a blankest amnesty for any and all who choose to register now and help them track down the Syndicate.

Captain America gave the broadcast as seen above calling the heroes and citizens to arms.

PROMPTS:

REGISTERED HEROES:

A team of the registered heroes hunting down the Syndicate, this can be done either in pairs or as a group. We suggest that they find a lead, but no specific location of the Syndicate. (If you’d like them to discover something bigger, please message the main!) We’d expect this to be action packed and tense! The government is scrambling.

The registered heroes discussing what to do, whether they still support their cause, and together, rethink their position with the Accords. This can be a member of the Strike Force, a member of their heroes who have joined, or a registered hero with a citizen! This can also be done SOLO.

Registered heroes may also leave the government to ally themselves with the Alliance! We suggest you plot this further with the current members, which include Bruce Wayne, Diana Prince, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. We’ll keep you updated as people join in the ooc blog!

UNREGISTERED HEROES:

Unregistered heroes banding together with the Justice League/Avengers alliance. They can seek them out at various locations to be plotted in the future. Current members include Bruce Wayne, Diana Prince, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. We’ll keep you updated as people join in the ooc blog!

Like the registered heroes, the unregistered will likely take it upon themselves to hunt down the Syndicate. Like above, we suggest they find leads, but nothing concrete. This would be an action packed thread, and tensions would be running high.

GENERAL:

Shows of support for those that have not registered can also be seen through protests, blog posts, and simple discussions between characters. We’d love to see people participate through whatever means possible! Write up an open starter at a protest, write up a blog post your character did, we’re flexible.

[rebuildhq]

No one knew who they were. The costumed vigilante hanging from Times Square. Dead.

They were young, that much was obvious as The Strike Force took him down. It was far too late for the Panel to keep this body out of the press -- by the time their agents arrived on scene, the crowds of Time Square had all taken pictures, videos, snapshots of the gruesome scene. A young boy, clad in the shreds of his costume and cape, strung up like a macabre puppet. Every major news organization was on the scene, speculating as to what this could mean. The rumors were finally being addressed as they interviewed witnesses on the street.

“This ain’t the first, man!” one teen girl insisted to the cameras. “There’s been bodies like, everywhere. I haven’t seen them, but my cousin, she saw one in Manhattan the other day…”

“Just lyin’ in the alleyway, you know?” another man said, face serious. “It’s getting so like, curfew or not, people be afraid to walk out they doors. Everywhere you look --”

“There’s always something. Something awful,” a mother said, clutching her two young children close.

The official broadcast came that evening. The now-familiar face of Karl Orse, in his stark empty office, behind that desk, appeared without preamble on every news channel.

“My fellow citizens,” he began, as always. His pale eyes fixed straight at the camera. “The events in Time Square today, are a symbol of the dark times we face. The Accords and Accountability Panel deeply regrets the loss of that young man, though he was unregistered. We extend our deepest and sincere sympathies to his family and friends.”

He paused then, his thin lips pulled into a deep frown that only accentuated the wrinkles and age of his face. “It is also,” he said in a low grumble. “An unfortunate example of the dangers that being an unregistered vigilante. Now, more than ever, we encourage all unregistered heroes, mutants, Inhumans, metahumans, anyone with a ‘gift’ or a cape  -- come forward. You will be offered the protection of the Panel, and you will be given the opportunity to serve the community. The actions today, and the as yet unconfirmed rumors of other incidents, prove that there is a threat facing us all. Join us, and through unity, accountability, and organization -- we will put an end to this threat.”

Mr. Orse glanced down briefly at the papers on his desk, straightening them before looking back up at the camera. “Our information on this threat is highly-sensitive and classified. But rest assured, fellow citizens, we are doing all we can to catch the person or persons responsible for these heinous acts. Our search for them is currently this Panel’s top priority. If you or someone you know have any information, please contact the number at the bottom of your screen.” He paused, as the number flashed below. “Citizens are encouraged to respect the curfew, which we remind you, has been enacted for the safety of the community as a whole.” With that, the screen went blank, and the regularly scheduled news programs continued the story, speculating as to possible motivations behind these ‘unconfirmed’ attacks.

Meanwhile, in the ruins of Attilan, a group of people watched the report from a laptop. When Karl Orse disappeared from the screen, one member reached forward and closed the computer, then turned to the others.

“We have finally gotten their attention.” The voice that spoke was female, though it was impossible to discern any other features about her. Like the rest of the group before her, she wore long dark robes, the hood pulled up over her head, obscuring her face in shadow. The group turned to her reverently, kneeling before her as a congregation before a priest.

The woman took a moment, gazing around the vast, crumbling ruins around them. The entire city was empty except for their group -- they had seen to that first. Inhumans were, after all, relatively easy targets. Especially when you attacked from within.

“Our goals remain unchanged,” she said, turning back to the group. “We will not rest until they are achieved. Until every so-called hero, every freak of nature, every danger has been taken care of. They call us a threat,” she said, gesturing to the laptop. “But the Panel knows better than most the hazards these ‘people’ pose to the rest of us. We have suffered, friends,” she said, her gaze flicking across the sea of shadowy faces. Their numbers had grown over the past year, swelling to an impressive and impossible amount. “We have all lost someone or something. Our families. Our homes. Because of them. Because of the heroes.” The word was venomous on her tongue, and several members of the crowd hissed. “Never again will a mother lose her children. A husband lose his wife. A family lose their beloved home. Not while we breathe. We will have our justice. And we will have our revenge!”

She raised a fist in the air, and every member of the crowd repeated the gesture. They took up the chant. “Never again! Never again! Never again!”

After a few moments, the woman raised her hands, calling for quiet. “Our work has only begun. We have stepped out of the shadows, but we will continue to strike from them. Secrecy is important, now more than ever. But we will not be unheard, my friends. We will not suffer in silence.”

She gazed out across the crowd. “You have your assignments. Carry them out with the diligence and reverence of a sacred cause. Because there is nothing more sacred than reclaiming your home, your world, from those who would destroy it. And these heroes,” she paused as there was more hissing. “Will destroy everything if we let them. The Panel has tried and failed to keep them in check. It is up to us now. Never again, my friends. Never again will this world tolerate heroes or the hell they bring upon us.” Unseen to anyone, her eyes flashed and her jaw clenched. “It is their turn to be afraid. It is their turn to be put through hell.”

With that, she strode from the chamber, once the royal hall of Attilan. But it belonged to them, and them alone now. It belonged to The Syndicate.

WHAT’S HAPPENED:

An (npc) hero has been found dead, hanging from Times Square. Too public a place for the Panel or the media to keep it a secret. His identity has not been released, and is known only to the Panel and the police force.

The Panel has publically declared to be searching for the persons responsible, but in reality, they are pleased. A few less heroes running amok in the city.

Behind this murder, and the bodies that are still being found in the streets, is a cult. A cult with one goal: eradicate all heroes. Anyone different. Anyone not quite-human. This cult calls themselves The Syndicate, a group of people who have all experienced some kind of loss due to the collateral damage of superheroes. While this group once placed faith in the Panel, they have decided it is not doing enough to stem the bloodshed, and have decided to take matters into their own hands. They are led by a mysterious woman, whose identity is unknown, not even to her fellow cultists. They are a highly-organized, extremely lethal, but utterly anonymous group. Each member carries a cyanide pill in the case of their capture, willing to die rather than reveal key information.

PROMPTS:

Person A and Person B have registered. As part of the infamous Strike Force, or simply tools for the Panel to use, they have been tasked with one simple objective: find the murderers and the heroes. As they struggle to fulfill this objective, focus on their thoughts/feelings. Are they hopeful? Arfraif? Filled with doubt about the Panel? Together, will they make a plan to leave? Or continue following orders?

Person A and Person B have not registered. The dangers that they face are becoming more and more real everyday. The Strike Force is closing in on them, the Syndicate has declared war on them, and they’ve been backed into a corner (perhaps literally). Will they continue to hide? Will they finally relent and sign together to receive protection? Will they investigate the body? Essentially, what I’d like to see here are two characters either in a dangerous situation, likely with the Task Force, or on the run, trying to decide what to do.

Person A is in a crowded bar, face concealed, as they watch the news report. Another fallen comrade, although this one could not be swept under the rug. They take this as a call to arms and contact Person B (can be a hero they know or one they get into contact with). Together, Person A and Person B formulate a plan and an alliance.

Person A and Person A grow restless with the continued violence and attempt to break into a government facility. They find nothing but a Strike Force waiting for them and make a narrow escape.

Person A finally gives up the fight and signs the Accords in the face of the grisly murders. This one we’d really like to see! There’s plenty of reasons for your character to sign. Despite how corrupt the Accords and Accountability Panel is, none of this is public knowledge. They believe they’ll be heroes, serving the government, and know nothing of what’s going on behind closed doors. It’s promised protection, a chance to be a hero legally, and they can finally stop running.

[rebuildhq]

A man knocked timidly on the meeting room door. He was met by the eyes of the entire Accords and Accountability Panel. Karl Orse sat at the head of the table, his pale gaze fixed on the interruption. For a moment, the man stood in stunned silence, clutching his reports close to his chest.

“Yes?” Orse asked, in his low, gravelly voice. He was not one to tolerate disruptions.

“We have the, uh, latest reports. On Attilan --”

“We do not use that name,” Orse said sharply. But he held out his hand. The man swallowed hard and approached him slowly, passing over the files one at a time.

Orse skimmed them quickly, his pale eyes darting back and forth across the pages. If he was shocked, it was hard to determine. The man’s face was stone as ever. “Has this been verified?” he asked simply, glancing at the intern.

The intern nodded frantically. “Checked and double-checked, sir,” he said quickly. “The entire city -- it’s just empty.”

Orse closed the reports, straightening them meticulously. “Then the Inhumans are better at hiding than we thought. This changes nothing,” he said, gazing out at the other members of the panel. Not for confirmation, but as if he were giving an unspoken order. The men and women simply nodded.

“You may go,” Orse said, raising a hand to dismiss the intern.

The man hesitated. “There’s -- there’s one other thing sir,” he said quietly. Orse’s eyes fixed on him once again, and the intern motioned to the files on the table. “Th--the last report.”

Orse opened the dark blue file. His pale eyes lit up, the only sign of life in the otherwise old and wizened man. “How many so far?”

“We’re still not sure of the exact numbers, sir. Over a dozen confirmed, but there might be more.”

A grim expression crossed Orse’s face. It might have been a smile, but there was something dark and shadowy in the twist of his thin lips. “Spread throughout the city,” he mused. He glanced up from the files. “It seems this problem may be taking care of itself,” he announced to the Panel. The men and women stared back at him, none daring to look confused or ask what he meant.

Orse passed the file to his left, then leaned forward, folding his bony hands together. “Our work is far from complete,” he said, his voice serious and firm. “But this is a sign that fate is on our side, my fellow members. The Inhumans are dying.” His eyes were bright and fierce, the light in them like a cold fire.

“We tell the city nothing of this,” he declared, standing up. He strode towards the windowed wall, gazed out over the city. Attilan was a dark shadowy shape in the distance. “The common people panic so easily at what they do not understand.”

WHAT’S HAPPENED:

Should any of your characters have breached security and reached Attilan, they will have found… nothing.

The Inhumans are nowhere to be found.

Except in the streets. Bodies of Inhumans have been cropping up across the city, left behind in alleyways and on street corners. The police have been told to keep the identities of the victims a secret, and ordered to pass these investigations over to the Panel to handle personally.

Registered heroes have not been informed. They’ve been told to keep patrolling the border of Attilan, and to bring in anyone who may be trying to reach the abandoned city. Of course, arresting Unregistered gifted, metahumans, and Inhumans remains their primary goal.

The Strike Force has been authorized to handle the investigations of any Inhuman body found. Most have been killed in brutal, ritualistic manners. If your character comes across one of these poor souls, it will not be a pretty sight.

Meanwhile the Panel continues to assure the public that they are doing everything they can to protect the city from the constant threat Attilan poses -- though they refer to the city as the Inhuman Insurgence. The curfew is still in effect, ‘for your own safety.’

Attilan remains in the Hudson, heavily guarded by military units, including artillery. A naval force surrounds the city, and armed guards patrol the borders of the Hudson, keeping the crowds of onlookers at bay.

The city itself is a ghost town. An empty mixture of ancient runes and futuristic looking buildings -- but no people anywhere. There’s no clear sign of what happened here, only a stark wind blowing through abandoned streets and tall buildings. Whatever happened, it happened fast.

Despite the Panel’s attempts to keep the discovery of Inhuman bodies a secret, rumors have been cropping up among those who know. Unregistered heroes grow ever more uneasy -- Inhuman or not, any one of them could be the next target. The Strike Force, the Panel, and now an unnamed killer is on the loose.

Most major news outlets only repeat what the Panel says. A few brave tabloids have begun speculating -- but most are shutdown days after headlines such as ‘Does NYC have a new serial killer?

Prompts:

IN PAIRS:

After evidence emerges in a tabloid, Character A has taken it upon themselves to investigate. They either enlist Character B’s help or run into them along the way. They will find little evidence (unless approved otherwise by the admins) but it’ll either frighten them or intrigue them. How does this change things for them? What can they do to help? How does this affect their relationship?

Character A and Character B stumble upon a body that hasn’t been discovered yet. It’s brutal, graphic, and an all out massacre. How do they react? Do they go looking for the culprits? Do they investigate?

Character A finds a body before Character B. Because they’re strangers, Character A assumes that Character B is the murderer. How does Character A prove their innocence? What kind of tension and suspicion does this create between the characters?

SOLO:

Finding the body of a deceased inhuman. This will be a graphic, brutal endeavour. That being said, you have a lot of freedom with this! The murders have been ritualistic, but this could have been someone that your character knew or a complete stranger. How do they react to it? Are they paranoid? Angry? Rethinking their stance on inhumans?

A self thread reflecting on the events of the entire RP thus far. How has your characters tune changed about the government? Are they scared now that a serial killer is targeting powered people? Are they hunting them?

[rebuildhq]

It happened at dawn. Just as the sun peeked over the skyscrapers, a shadow fell over the city. Massive, spreading out across the blocks, leaving a chill behind. Like it was sucking the last of the warmth from the not-quite spring air.

Few people actually saw the city fall from the sky and land in the Hudson. Those that did were terrified by its sudden appearance. But a few recognized it, and watched in awe as Attilan, home of the Inhumans, took roots in the midst of New York City.

None understood its arrival, even those who saw the city for what it was. It wasn’t unusual for Attilan to relocate, but to plant itself in such a public place was unheard of.

Citizens cowered in their homes, kept their children home from school.

Heroes, registered and unregistered, watched the events unfold with baited breath and ever-growing concerns.

The Inhumans waited for word from their kind, waited for some kind of signal.

The Accords and Accountability panel began to plot.

A few hours later, an official announcement was made. Chairman Orse once again appeared behind the stark white desk, another set of papers spread out before him. He explained the situation in his low, serious voice, staring at the camera with his pale blue eyes. He told the citizens of New York about how the fabled Inhuman city had finally appeared and made itself known to the world. He explained that not much was known about this place, Attilan, that even its name had been difficult to acquire, because the Inhumans guarded it with such secrecy.

And then, he folded his hands together, and said, “My fellow citizens, this is an act of war.”

WHAT’S HAPPENED:

Attilan, the technologically advanced, floating, moving city, home to the royal elite of the Inhumans, has landed in the Hudson River, just outside of Manhattan. No one yet knows why the city has landed here -- in the past, the Inhumans have only moved the city to push it further into hiding. But now it seems they have different motives. Perhaps the Inhumans in the city, or the spirit of the city itself, were motivated by the recent political events. The prejudice against not just Inhumans, but mutants, metas, anyone who dared to be different or challenge the government.

The government, taken by surprise, has decided to spin this to their favor. They’ve told the public, through several sources, that the Inhumans have placed their city here strategically. That it is an act of war, an all-out aggression. They’ve more than doubled the size and scope of the Strike Force, who now roam freely throughout the city and answer only to the Accords and Accountability Panel. Meaning they answer only to Chairman Orse. The Panel has declared that they will take any means necessary to defend the ‘average’ citizens of the city, even if that includes an all-out war.

Tensions are running high. Protests erupt and are broken up violently. There’s chaos and distrust rampant in the streets.

Your character must choose what to believe. Are the Inhumans intentions peaceful? Or are they planning something too sinister to imagine? The Accords and Accountability Panel has forbidden all contact with the city and its inhabitants, but already there’s rumors on the streets about ways to reach the island in the middle of the river.

The Accords and Accountability Panel has once again voiced the need for all superpowered individuals to come forward to defend against this threat. Those already registered are expected to gather information on the city, though they are also forbidden from direct contact. Registered heroes will also be expected to help maintain peace within the city, break up protests, bring in those responsible for starting them, and keeping everyone away from Attilan.

A citywide curfew has been put into place for all citizens. Anyone caught outside their homes after ten without explicit permission from the Accords and Accountability Panel, will face dire consequences. Hefty fines if you’re lucky, detainment and worse if you’re not.

Unregistered heroes once again face a choice. Register and defend their city, or wait to be caught by the ever-more threatening Strike Force. The Panel warns that they no longer have the patience for pity. Their justice will be swift, and it will be decisive.

Meanwhile, the Inhumans remain silent. But as you gaze across the river at the incredible city, floating there as if it has always existed in that place, you can feel their eyes on you. The Inhumans are watching. And they are waiting. No one’s quite sure what for.

Chairman Orse concluded his speech by reassuring the citizens of New York that this threat would be dealt with, that once again, the city would feel safe. “But sometimes, citizens, in order to rebuild… you must first destroy the obstacles in your path.” His voice was cold, and final. The screen faded to black.

PROMPTS:

Feel free to run where your muse takes you with this plot drop! (As always, major plots should be run by the main first.) But if you’re stuck, here are some ideas/clarifications:

With a partner:

Character A is a registered superhero. Character B is either unreigstered, or a citizen, and one that’s gotten too close to the border of Attilan. Does Character A bring them in to the Panel? Does Character B find a way to worm free?

Character A and Character B are both out after curfew. They run into each other. Both know the Panel will pay informants well, but that means admitting they were also breaking the rules. What happens next?

Character A and B have teamed up in order to venture inside of Attilan’s walls. Are they apprehensive about the Inhumans? Do they believe that stopping them will gain them some favour with the government? Do they want to find peace between them or team up?

Solo:

Your character decides to see for themselves what this city is all about. What do they find in Attilan? Do they even make it that far? Can they not only cross the river without being seen by a Registered or the Strike Force, can they get inside this technological behemoth at all?

Since the government has taken a ‘shoot first, ask questions later (or never)’ stance, will your character rethink their choice to sign the Accords? Will they fight them harder?

The government has framed your character as part of Attilan’s fall, having blamed all of the heroes for its appearance. Because of this, the risks are higher than ever. How will this affect your character?

[rebuildhq]

Addressing all “heroes,” We will no longer be standing for your insolence.  While some of you have been noble enough to come forward as defenders of the public, the vast majority have turned their backs on our government and world as a whole. Hundreds of innocent people have died because of your reckless actions. Entire cities have been destroyed. One has even fallen. You are putting our lives at risk, and you will not take accountability for these actions. While our people remain in danger, we will be taking action. From now until you are all found, we are sending strike forces out. If you choose to come willingly, we will happily accept you as our own. If not, it breaks our heart to say, but there will be consequences. There will be prison sentences, and there will be violence. We are not afraid of you, and we will do what is necessary.

‘We interrupt our regularly scheduled news program for a breaking announcement from the Accords and Accountability Panel.’

The screen flashes to a white room, a simple table, and a stern-looking man sitting in front of the camera. He stares directly at the screen, despite the papers clutched in his hand.

“Good evening,” he begins, voice low and gravely. His head is shaved, his eyebrows thick and gray. “I am Karl Orse, chairman of the Accords and Accountability Panel. As you are no doubt aware, this panel was enacted to put an end to the vicious plague that has affected not only the great city of New York, but the entire globe.”

He pauses, sets aside the papers, and folds his hand. His pale eyes are trained on the camera, serious and intense. “Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of the expansion of the Sokovia Accords. The expansion that made it mandatory for all powered individuals to come forward, anyone who would wear a mask and a cape, anyone who would claim to be a ‘hero’ – to protect our cities and the great citizens that live in them, from harm. A year ago, we as a nation, as a global community, decided we had enough of these individuals taking matters into their own hands, and leaving destruction in the wake of their search for justice.”

Another pause, as he rubs his temples. “I wish, my fellow citizens, that I could come to you with glad tidings. That I could speak to the effectiveness of this expansion, that I could tell you to cast aside your worries. But while several brave souls have stepped forward and claimed responsibility for their actions, too many so-called ‘heroes’ still lurk in the shadows. The ‘gifted’ and the Inhumans still lurk among us, still spread chaos wherever they tread. No more.”

His hands fall to the table once more. Clenched into fists, but there’s a controlled anger to the motion. “Despite our best efforts, incidents continue to occur. There has been a recent uptick in these events, countless reports of vigilantes and mutant-related vandalism. The very events this panel was enacted to prevent. But the cowardice of those who claim to be brave heroes has proven insurmountable,” he says, the disdain evident in his low, careful voice.

“The time has come for stricter measures. For this panel, and the entire globe, to take a stand,” he says, pale blue eyes fixed on the camera once again. “The Accords and Accountability Panel, with nothing but the desire to see our world brought once more to order and peace, has decided to take that stand. With that goal in mind, we have created a special task force. The Strike Force, a group of highly-trained, military authorized individuals, has been formed with a singular purpose – to hunt down the last of these dangers, these people who think themselves heroes but are nothing more than public menaces, and bring them to justice. And justice will be swift. It will not be kind.”

He picks up the papers. Straightens them until they are neatly stacked. “We must make it clear to these individuals, to those who think themselves outside or above the law, that their abilities and their capes do not set them apart from society. If they wish to live among us, they must follow our rules, and if they wish to serve the public, they must do so within the rules and regulations that we as a whole have decided to adhere to. No more can they cower behind their masks and secret identities, no more can they hide in the shadows and dispense their own brand of justice. Justice is blind, but it is not hidden behind a mask.”

A small, grim smile crosses his face, almost imperceptible. “The Strike Force will be deployed immediately, to every major city in each country that has enacted the Expanded Accords. They will find these individuals and bring them to justice for a change. Using the research and information we’ve gathered over the past year, we have managed to arm and train them to counteract several potential threats – if you seek to resist them, your ‘gifts’ will do you little good. Those who comply with the Strike Force will be given the same courtesies of those who first signed, fair trials for their crimes, accommodations for the abilities. Those who continue to resist…” He trails off for a moment, folding his hands together. “They will be dealt with.”

He pauses, takes a drink from the glass of water sitting on the table. “Those of you who have registered with the panel will be expected to cooperate fully with the Strike Force. You will also be expected to assist them in bringing in these rogue elements, to bring these terrorists in to face their misdeeds. The motivation to help is not enough to call oneself a hero, as any of the brave men and women serving in the armed forces will assure you. Duty, responsibility, accountability. These qualities are far more important. We must not forget the bigger picture – a world in which everyone, regardless of whether they have powers or enhanced abilities or fancy technology to compensate for the lack of such, can feel safe. This world does not belong to those who hide in the shadows, it belong to those of us who face the light.”

A nod to the camera. “Good night, fellow citizens. Rest assured, one day, you will rest easy, knowing these threats have been contained. A report will be issued, further detailing the Strike Force’s regulations. If you, or someone you know, has any information you feel pertinent, please call the number on your screen.”

A phone number flashes. Then the screen goes black.

Here’s a couple of suggestions for what you can do with the plot drop! Of course you’re not required to do them, we just wanted to give you all some ideas because sometimes, it’s difficult to operate within the realms of a plot drop when it’s open ended. Feel free to use them, feel free to take pieces of them, or completely ignore them.

Go where the muse takes you!

If you guys need any help finding threads for the plot drop, please feel free to message us!

With a partner:

Character A is a masked hero that the government’s agents have tracked down. Person B is a civilian and/or unknown hero and see the fight between Character A and the government and intervenes, thus saving Character A. (I’d love to see this as a Marvel/DC crossover!)

Character A’s identity is known to the public and the government has specifically targeted them. Person A and B team up in order to hold them off.

Character A has made a hideout open to all masked heroes. Character(s) B, C, D, etc has/have taken them up on their offer. (Can be a group thread! Or an open one).

Solos:

Character A somehow gets caught by the government and they learn their identity, whether it becomes public or not is up to you!

The government gets a hold of Character A and they’re forced to either retire (which can be a lie!) or sign the Accords.