#hellsguardiandevil

[qucke]

@hellsguardiandevil | Outside of St. Agnes 

Weeks without sunlight had completely wrecked her internal schedule and Daisy would find herself becoming drowsy at odd hours. Not that it really mattered when there had still been little leads on finding the rest of her team. It was hard not to feel frustrated or hopeless, and in an attempt to feel some kind of useful she had found herself parked on a familiar old street. In front of a place in any other circumstance she would have been perfectly happy to never see again. So far, nothing had happened, only the normal (whatever that was) foot traffic that allowed for dark eyes to fall closed. 

It went against her training and Daisy could only imagine what May would say to be caught so off guard. But there was nothing but static on the radio at the moment and it would do no good to run the battery dead on her borrowed car of the week. It wasn’t long before she’d slipped into a fit of restless sleep, only to be jolted awake by a firm knock on her window. 

“Good job Agent Johnson.” She groaned to herself, rubbing her eyes before pulling herself into a sitting position to open the door and send an innocent and curious look at the man standing outside. “Can I help you...?”

[starrphantom]

@hellsguardiandevil

This city was getting crazier by the second. Regular humans suddenly gaining powers, powered individuals suddenly unable to use their gifts. Ava wasn’t sure what convinced the universe to make it Opposite Day. But whatever it was, it wasn’t looking too favourably on a man she noticed crossing the street. Downpours aside, she could barely see two feet ahead of her. She was sure the same could be said for the other body she encountered walking on the other side of the street... until she saw the bright strip of white and heard the light tap tap against the concrete. Crap. She should go over there and help him, at least until he got to where he was going, right? It wouldn’t hurt, she wouldn’t even have to talk to him... right? Then a woman appeared out of the shadows and rain, looking quite determined. Her gaze was fixed on the blind man seemingly minding his own business, her hands suddenly erupting and surrounded by flames. Ava wanted to tell herself it was a mistake. What could this guy have done to her to get on her bad side? With her powers, she could have easily phased herself over and turned him immaterial, but without the luxury of her powers, she was going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. Soaked completely through, she sprinted as she watched the twin jets of fire spiraling right towards him. Just a few feet more... She leaped the rest of the way, her arms around his chest and tackling him out of the way. The landing wasn’t at all graceful or well thought out as she felt a tear going up the thigh of her pants. “I’d say sorry, but I think someone is adamant about burning your head off.”

[elektralivesagain]

Rained in

@hellsguardiandevil​

After who knows how long, she felt the sting of something against her cheeks. No longer numb to the world around her she felt the drops of cold rain falling on her face from the dark overcast sky stretching out in every direction. At some point the banshee had taken hold and she could only see others for the haze grief or impending death surrounding them, except him.

Standing in what appeared to be a lush rooftop garden she watched the rain trail off walls of damp ivy and tried fruitlessly to retrace her steps. Drifting forward she felt the drag of warmer water around her waist and realized she was standing in a swimming pool of polished marble. Expensive taste, but not hers. She didn’t know how much time she’d lost or even how long she’d been standing in that spot. Now that she could feel the air temperature dropping she’d need to find some clothes before she could start trying to figure it out.

But first-

Turning on her heel cut off the most pressing question forming in her mind, the sight of familiar shoulders peeking above the waterline but his back was to her. Her mind swiftly clamped down on the instinct to call his name not wanting a repeat of the last turn. The clawing at the back of her throat was gone and she could feel the world beneath her feet now, more like normal although her mind resisted that word these days. With an involuntary shiver she reached out to let her fingertips brush his shoulder.

Matthew. There hadn’t been time to talk about anything. Not his time prison, or Murdock, or the lines they’d only just started to cross before he’d been taken. Maybe without the devil in him driving his tastes it was possible his perspective had shifted. A problem for later, once they were out of the rain.

[punisher-devildog]

Into the Dark

@hellsguardiandevil @elektralivesagain

Frank had been doing his self-appointed patrols when he noticed people still venturing down into the subway.  Some quick recon told him he was going to need backup.  Though it was likely there were a great many people capable of such things, there was only one person he could trust to watch his six without keeping a watch on him.

Frank made his way to Matt’s place easily.  He could have gone about an entrance any number of ways, not like the apartment was an extremely secure building, but knocking on the door was probably the best way to manage it.  His first knock was fairly light.  Loud enough to be heard, not too demanding.  If he needed a heavier knock he would use it.  For now, best to keep things subtle.

[ironpinion]

Crashing

@hellsguardiandevil

     There was a brief burst of curiosity within Warren. While usually he was one to avoid his unfortunate human nature, he decided that for the well-being of everyone he’d met so far, he should push himself out of his comfort zone. This way he’d actually be helpful and contribute something so that he wouldn’t feel too useless just lurking around the mansion basically freeloading. Of course, due to the lack of direction given to him from higher ups, Warren had essentially decided that he would explore this unfamiliar place. 

         Usually, the way that Warren would help was to be of financial support, but it seemed when everything went to hell, getting access to any of his inheritance would be near impossible. Money could possibly still make money move, but he wasn’t going to wait around and figure out currency and negotiations. Having wings meant he could get a view that most people couldn’t get usually, and flying with natural wings meant that he was afforded a stealth that most people with rocket-powered flights did not have. 

         But this also meant that he had a great vulnerability that spanned ten feet, and that it was very easy to get badly injured and wounded. Warren should’ve put that into his calculations, especially because his allies had warned him about the machines that roamed the city. That, however, seemed to have slipped him as only after about a half an hour of his endeavor, he was hurt in wild chase that ended in him ducking through a narrow alleyway, that could barely contain his wings. The sides of his wings were cut up from the friction as he braced himself for a quick landing in a puddle of water.

       So focused on his own safety, Warren had failed to account for his surroundings. In true fallen angel fashion, he landed with minimum damage to himself outside of his wings, only scraping his forearms and knees. His landing was rough and unpracticed, and somehow had not only bought himself down, but also another man who was probably just roaming the alley. 

       “....I’m so sorry.” He barely made out, looking at his victim. 

[irradiated-struldbrug]

@hellsguardiandevil

Bruce was once again glad that though he'd gone to medical school his work goal was research. This seemingly endless parade of people that were either injured, sick, or dealing with problems related to the cold was wearing him down. The fact that his symptoms were getting worse wasn't helping. He'd taken to wearing a surgical cap or knit hat at all times to disguise his hair loss. For practical reasons he'd shaved his head. He would hook himself up to an IV to keep hydrated as well as make it easier to inject medication to control the nausea and vomiting.

When patients needed seen he had to set aside his own issues. Apparently the particular patient was carried in by 'a hot looking Xena warrior babe' which could either be Valkyrie or Sif. Bruce told the young man to be very careful about saying that where the woman in question could hear him.

Since Bruce didn't recognize the lady he assumed it was Sif. He let her out and was glad to get his patient's first name. "Hello, Matt, I'm Dr. Banner. If you want to call me Bruce that's fine," he said after closing the door. He moved over to a rolling stool and sat down. "Normally I'd ask more questions before launching into an exam, but since you were exposed to the cold for an unknown period of time I want to check your feet and hands for signs of frostbite right away. It might ensure you get to keep all your digets."

He carefully unrolled the bottom of the blanket and saw Matt's feet were wrapped up. "Wrapping your feet was smart," he said. Then he pulled out a pair of bandage scissors and proceeded to cut the wrappings off. "Okay, I need to to close your eyes and tell me when you feel something poke your toes."

[devildog-punisher]

@hellsguardiandevil

Frank Castle had been in some real shitholes before, but this place was working really hard at taking first place. It was starting to make the kind of stuff he saw when he went to sleep look like sweet dreams. At least he still had his gear with him, made dealing with the bone chilling cold a lot easier.

Course the fact they no longer had caves to shelter in meant he could find his own space. He'd never been much of a people person. In this place alone was when his ghosts found him. He remembered telling Karen that his wife brought on the pain, that was cranked up to 11 and playing all the time now.

He found ways to deal with it until the rage and hate started filling him up inside. It burned so hot he swore his skin should be blistering with it. After long enough he had a plan. He'd told Russo that the man would know pain. Now it was time to end it. Put that asshole down so hard he never got up again.

Someone dropped into his path when he was looking for the rock that that piece of shit was hiding under. "Should have known you'd put on your pajamas sooner or later, Red," he said. "Get out of my way. My problem isn't with you, but you aren't stopping me."

[arsennal-blog1]

   in his sense of direction , he’s trying to scope the place out while he’s got a good chance.  the general logistics , location coordinates.  all the things he thinks is gonna be crucial to his knowledge when he needs it.  something he can pull out of his back pocket just in case.  but what he sees right now paints the whole picture for him. and he really can’t help but laugh.        “ jesus christ ─ y’know for someone who believed , wore hope like a second skin and walked around like some patron saint .. you taste the medicine yet , red ?  “   frank pauses , eyes glazing over the medical tools , the kind of limited set up that takes him back.  he looks at the other , first question in his head was why. 

    though he wasn’t about to  admit he started praying to whatever god was up there , the moment he ended up in the place ; he’d never hear the end of that one. 

   “ never thought you’d get stuck in this shithole purgatory huh ?  yeah , through and through. “  frank let that ring in his head a bit , though he never fully believed he’d see him there.   he couldn’t lie and say there wasn’t even a slim sense of relief ; if there was someone he’s gonna run into , had to be this guy.  it doesn’t take much for billy russo to set back into his mind , giving frank one more reason to go after him and his bullshit.   “ i’ve only been here , let’s say .. maybe a few hours - and you’re the one tryin’ to find solace in a makeshift medical room. tell me how that is ─ how the hell are you here ?  “ 

      /  @hellsguardiandevil​ 

[emma-gracefrost]

@hellsguardiandevil​

Emma was sleeping under a mountain of fuzzy blankets. The power was not reliable, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in anything but the negligees she had always slept in. The silk against her skin was comforting -- even if it might be ill-advised given the temperature. Opal was curled up at the foot of Emma’s bed, as she always was, her nose tucked under her tail like a very good girl. But soon she jumped down and Emma only roused when she heard her growling. “Opal,” She mumbled sleepily, making a kissing noise to try and get her to come back into the bed. When the growling turned to barking in the living room Emma sat up, rubbing her face. It was unlike Opal to do that. Emma grabbed her (sheer) robe off of the chair and walked out to the living room. “What the hell?!” Emma snapped at the figure she could make out in the dark. In a defensive effort, she reached out, sending waves of telepathic pain, sure to send someone to their knees but Emma was shocked.

Pain.

She actually gasped and doubled over as every neuron in her brain felt like it was on fire. She hadn’t experienced an intense feeling like this since she had gained her powers as a teen, when the whole world was talking to her at once. Overwhelming, to say the very least. It felt frantic.

“Oh... fuck,” She said breathlessly. She shifted to her diamond form in an attempt to protect her own head. She raised her hand to brush her hair from her face and paused, almost comically, as she spotted a thin red string tied around her finger leading to-- the man standing in her house now. “Explain,” she demanded, her tone sharp. “Quickly.” After a pause. “And do not move a fucking muscle while you do it.”

[strongestavengerbruce]

With the city as dark and cold as it was, Bruce thought padding through the Mansion in socked feet felt a little too cosy for the climate, a little too close to how life used to be before the quarantine. Part of him still managed to yearn for it though, which was why he had chosen to pointedly ignore his toes growing numb as he made his way to the kitchen in search of green tea. The lab was out and as far as he knew the other rooms he usually frequented didn’t have any hidden away. He hadn’t packed many clothes when he crossed the borders of the dome, knowing he had his wardrobe waiting for him here, but he was beginning to regret not sourcing a winter coat, hat, scarf, and gloves. He was currently wearing sweatpants and an oversized sweater that had quickly become Betty’s favourite to steal, and unable to stop himself from shivering, he knew he looked the part of mad scientist. He was barely sleeping, his hair was a tangled mess, he couldn’t find his glasses anywhere, but it didn’t matter anymore. It was warped and twisted but it was home. He was finally home. Which was why he jumped when he turned a corner to walk into somebody he didn’t recognise. A lot of people were using the Mansion for shelter, he really should be used to strangers by this point, but it was odd. Something he never managed to prepare himself for. “Oh- I’m sorry...” He took a step backwards, realising suddenly just how familiar the man looked. He couldn’t quite place him, and he certainly couldn’t think of his name. Had they somehow crossed paths before? “I- Im sorry. This might sound insane, but have we met? Do I know you? I feel like I know you.” @hellsguardiandevil

[namorpatriae]

@hellsguardiandevil

Namor hated the snow. 

Not because of the wet or the cold, the things the humans in his employ had complained about the most in the past weeks. The feeling of sodden clothing was honestly comforting to Namor, and no winter chill could ever rival the depths of the ocean. By those measures, Namor should love the snow. 

It was the memories that he hated. 

The streets of New York were empty, the few souls rattling around the empty bones of the boroughs looking haggard and lost. If Namor didn’t focus, it was so easy to slip back to his younger years and the cold European winters. Five of them, long and hard, and they had been staring down the barrel of a sixth when Germany finally surrendered. 

The warmth of Jim’s flame and company were not at Namor’s side for this one, however, and with the creeping chill came every memory Namor had fought to keep at bay. It was their eyes, he thought, avoiding the gaze peering out of an alleyway. Their eyes were the same as they had been back then, hungry and pleading for something he could not give them. 

More than food, they craved peace, and Namor was a man suited for war. 

He was even worse at helplessness than inaction, and the helplessness in his chest quickly bubbled over into rage. The frenzied anger rising in his throat roused the beast in his head, even as Namor struggled to remember how to breathe through it. 

You know what to do, it whispered. As you have done before, a thousand times. Find what ails this land and kill it. 

Namor felt his lips curl into a snarl, but before he could answer his unwanted companion, one of the poor creatures of the street stumbled into him. Somewhere, in the sane part of his consciousness, Namor felt a pang of pity at the way the human shook, obviously weak with hunger. The beast, however, roared, and Namor felt his blood sing in agreement. 

“Foolish curr,” he spat, rearing back as if the human had committed the highest offense. “If you cannot navigate an empty street, then do your family a favor and lay down to let death come easier.” 

[leech-indie]

A Familiar Scent

@hellsguardiandevil​

Logan didn’t sleep well at the best of times but this waking up in weird places because he’d been sleep walking was getting damn old. He didn’t really get undressed for bed anymore, even left his damn shoes on and hardly bothered getting under the covers since he generally woke up in a weird spot. This time, the damn string had walked him face first into the side of a building which was why he’d woken up, nose temporarily busted before it healed itself. Growling, he headed back towards Avengers Mansion even though most of his stuff was at X-Haven. Jean was sleeping in a room near Stark’s workshop and had asked him to stay with her so that’s where he spent his nights when he didn’t end up in the middle of the street. 

With his nose healed, he caught a familiar scent on the cold night air and paused. It was the smell of the person who shared the apartment with Elektra, Matthew she’d said his name was. Curious and unlikely to get back to sleep anyway, he followed the scent until he came to the guy it must belong to. “I’m guessin’ you’re Matthew?” He called to the guy to get his attention. He was pretty sure he was Matthew considering his nose didn’t usually steer him wrong but there could be a first time for everything. 

[elektralivesagain]

Devil, Interrupted

She placed a steady hand on the Devil’s shoulder as he stood still for a rare moment. He’d barely stopped moving since the invasive bots arrival, cutting short something like a reunion. When he slept it was a few hours out of necessity and she could feel the strain in the curve of his spine as he leaned himself on the rooftop ledge and stretched his senses out across the momentarily eerily quiet city. There was nothing she could say to him now, not when he could smell the blood and the dead lining the streets.

The scent of the dead, maybe the only thing she remembers it too well.

A charitable breeze rolled through for moment and her hand slid up around the back of his neck. She wouldn’t dare ask him to rest, or even to slow down, but she would remind him if she could that he was still just human. The latest crisis had left little time for them to figure out what they were now. In the meantime she wouldn’t let him have to face down a hostile army of AI alone, no matter how many times she cut herself open on broken metal. “If it’s quiet maybe now is a good time to head back to the loft for a few hours. Maybe even try to make it all the way into bed this time?”

Even in the dark they made themselves known, marching metal bodies across the wet asphalt and glowing eyes burning in the the permanent night. She could feel him about ready to jump again when she squeezed her light grip on his collar. The sky above them was moving unnaturally again, brighter at first and then in a deep wash of color. “Wait-,” she said firmly. “... the sky. Seems it’s time for some fresh hell.” There was no good way to brace for the unknown but instinct told her to anyway, waiting with keen reflexes on edge for anything that might require them to react.

@hellsguardiandevil

[punisher-devildog]

The Forlorn Hope

@hellsguardiandevil

Frank was a loner and for the most part he was content to stay that way.  However, despite his preferences there were certain bonds and responsibilities that were sacred.  One of them was his responsibility to the men he considered his brothers.  There weren’t many left and whether Red understood it or not, he’d made the list.  Being changed into a kid made it near impossible for him to keep tabs on the guy, but now back to his usual size he knew he should touch base.

Okay the murderbots running around factored into that as well as Red’s blindness.  If the killing machines running around were culling the weak from the herd of humanity then they probably wouldn’t pause to understand the nuances of Red’s particular situation.  Frank couldn’t say he exactly understood it, but he wasn’t going to argue with what he knew to be true.  Red might be good at kicking, Frank was sure that his kicking wasn’t going to be very effective against said murderbots.

When Frank reached Red’s door he knocked with a very loud cop knock.  “Red, open up!  If you don’t sound off like you’ve got a set in the next minute I’m gonna kick your door in,” he shouted.  That should get Red’s immediate attention.

[aliasinvestigations-nyc]

The Washer at the Ford

“Goddamn ,” Jessica muttered softly as she struck a finger with the sharp edge of a rock. Her blood mingled with the rest on the white garment she was furiously scrubbing in the chill waters of the Hudson river.

Out of habit, she glanced at her wrist but she’d forgotten to put a watch on this morning. No telling what time it was in the dark and fog. She was starting to feel chilly because she’d managed to forget her jacket. Which—Jessica wrinkled her brow—was peculiar, because she never forgot to wear that jacket. It was far more like her to forget to take it off than forget to put it on.

She slipped a little in her crouching position at the water’s edge, and the motion made her suddenly aware of her feet. Which were bare. Jessica frowned again and tried to think. Didn’t she usually wear shoes when she went out to do—whatever she was doing? She looked curiously at the wet bloody cloth clutched in her fist. Was this her shirt? She didn’t remember getting bloody, and come to think of it she usually washed her clothes in a tub.

She had just started to process the mysterious fact that she was also not wearing shoes when she heard a commotion on the street behind her.

She stood up slowly, still holding the garment, to see two drunk-looking men falling around on the sidewalk and knocking into trash cans.

The larger of the two caught sight of her. “Hey! Girl!” he yelled.

Jessica stood still, a slight tilt of the head the only indication she had even noticed the two. That was apparently enough encouragement for the shorter one to stumble in her direction, reeking strongly of gin. “Whaddaya got there hon? Wanna drink?”

Jessica punched him effortlessly, then stepped over his crumpled form toward his taller, stringy-haired friend. “This is for you,” she said tonelessly, shoving the bundle of bloody cloth at his chest. “You’re going to die today.”

#BedlamNYC

@hellsguardiandevil

[irradiated-struldbrug]

@hellsguardiandevil

The fractured psyche that made up the whole of what was known as Bruce Banner was being imbalanced in a way that was not natural. Anger was something that only the alter Hulk felt and for some reason beyond the necessity for survival it was increasing. Jealousy was designated to the alter Bruce and it was also increasing. Hate, well, there were several alters in the winding corridors of their mind that felt that particular emotion and their prisons were rattling loudly.

Since Hulk was the alter that was out, dealing with the situation required enough focus to allow him to create a successful defense. Reactive adaptation had its benefits. Attacks powered by the Mind Stone had allowed him to create a defense that also worked for most other intrusions. It seemed another defense had to be added. The internal alter designated by the system as Guardian was far too busy keeping nightmares from escaping to work on it.

While internal chaos threatened the system, Hulk took his frustrations out on the environment. He knew puny humans would try to force Banner back. They hated Hulk, always hated Hulk. They called him monster until they needed help. When he was done they called him monster again. He punched a boulder and pebbles flew everywhere. Then he stopped when he smelled something.

He turned his head and saw the outline of someone watching him. "Leave Hulk alone!"