Captain America #1: Emergence of an Avenger (Open)

This was getting bad. Steve's senses weren't as enhanced as Daredevil's, but they didn't need to be. These people -- they were terrified. It was written all over their faces. Each of them that saw him, some immediately shivered away, others stopped in place as if frozen by their own fear. But why? What was there to be afraid of? And why was it that they seemed not to recognize the costume, or the red, white and blue shield? Something was wrong, but Captain America wasn't sure what it was. Not just yet. Though even now his mind was racing with a few theories. It wouldn't be the first time he'd traveled through time, after all.

But no, that didn't match up with what he was seeing. The city around him, skyscrapers jutting up above ancient trees; they were exactly as he'd always remembered them. The whirring of wheels spoke of the very same cars he'd always been surrounded by. The dress and manner of those staring at him was the same as before; whereas in his journey through half a century showed drastic difference in even that. It wasn't time travel, then -- and even if it was, with his reputation, his image would have been recognized. Even when the Avengers first thawed him from the ice, they immediately knew who he was.

This was something different. Something even more puzzling. At least, without Iron Man there to figure things out. Unfortunately, with his headset either damaged or blocked, he wasn't able to contact Tony in this case. But he had more pressing matters to consider.

The crowd was brushed aside by a man, wearing a hood over his face, who stepped forward. He seemed unarmed, yet that didn't serve as enough reason for Steve to drop his guard. He tensed, not openly, but in a trained way; both ready to strike or defend, but seeming relaxed as ever all the while. His clenched hand was hidden behind his shield. The Captain was ready for a fight, if it came to that. For the moment however, the individual standing before him seemed harmless, so Steve wouldn't show his hostility. The situation had put him on edge. With everything that seemed to be happening, for whatever reason, he felt he wasn't home anymore. That thought alone was as unnerving as could be.

"That's right. I am." His voice was calm, yet his narrowed gaze likely broadcast his hesitation. "Seems like someone didn't tell them." His emphasis was on the crowd gathered behind them. "Care to explain what's going on here?" The air shuddered. Steve recognized the feeling. It was far off, but a military-grade helicopter was taking off somewhere. No, more than one. At least three or four powerful blades were spinning to life, powering the deadly machines into the air. He could just be paranoid; the Captain thought differently. It was no coincidence that these people were so afraid of him; and the military was mobilizing. They were coming here. Just where was the thrown to?

Regardless, wherever he was, it seemed the welcoming party was kicking off into overdrive. And it wasn't the kind of surprise anyone would appreciate. His instincts were rarely wrong, and right now they were telling him to get his information, and get the hell out.



Blue Dragon

2:00PM in Central Park. Lunchtime.

Raz, and all the supersoldiers, were devoted students of the cuisine arts. They were not picky. When you needed to consume 5,000 calories a day just to meet your BMR, you learned not to be too discriminating. Raz had tried everything and rarely found something to her disliking. Except eggplant. Seriously, screw eggplant.

She had enjoyed the fiery Thai food and hearty Russian fare; then endless varieties of sausage in Germany, down to the exotic and even outlandish victuals of China and Indian street vendors. A supersoldier needed to eat a lot and they burned it off in a hurry. When you get that hungry, everything is delicious, no matter the source or bizarre combinations.

Right now, that combination consisted of a New York hotdog with ketchup, mustard, and relish. Juicy and tender, her mouth watered as the vendor handed it over to her. He knew her by now. She came by around lunch most days to eat about four or five hotdogs. A few of the park-goers were still in awe of the supersoldier in her massive, black armor with the red outline of a wolf skull on the chest. She ignored them as they snapped pictures -- those pictures would be erased the second they hit the internet. Raz never liked big crowds but being in the armor helped. And right now, her primary focus was food.

She wandered over to a nearby tree, something to put her back too, opened her mouth and had her teeth on the bun when an alert crackled over her coms.

"Hellhound, we have a Vagrant that just dropped in your area! Respond immediately, over!"

She rolled her eyes, an exasperated and slightly muffled scream escaping from around the bun.

"Coordinates sent to you now. He's on the move. Go!"

Raz's eyes narrowed. Defiantly, she tore off a big bite of the hotdog and chewed it savagely as she jogged back and thrust it at the vendor. "Ho' mm daw."

He looked at her, startled as her helmet closed back up around her head. She swallowed hard and tried again. "Hold my damn dog!"

Blinking, he took it. Turning on heel, she followed the arrow on her digital HUD, muttering to herself as she unslung her weapon. "Goddamn, bastard Vagrants, dropping out of the goddamn sky. During my LUNCH! C'MON, MAN! Is nothing freaking sacred to these freaking, fracking, stupid-looking, weird dressing..."

Her little rant continued as she ran through the park. Enhanced by the suit, and finally not on concrete, she opened up the throttle and ran for all she was worth. Every stride cleared easily 35 feet and she practically flew across the distance. People had started getting accustomed to hearing the deadly harbinger of a supersoldier steam-rolling their direction and the park started to clear out in a hurry.

"Hellhound, air support inbound in ten minutes, over."

"Copy that, NTO." Her stomach growled. "Contact in ten seconds, over."

A leap sent her sailing through the air over a small pond and she landed hard on the other side, over half a ton of armored supersoldier making quite a crater. Dirt flew up into the air, scattering down the people nearby as the fled. Raz stood, scanning the area. This was the spot, but she didn't see any Vagrant. Nothing obvious at least until -- there.

Now that's definitely a new way of paying tribute to Old Glory, she thought. Maybe he was a soldier from... wherever he came from? Hell, maybe there was even an America there. That was a comforting thought. Maybe this could be done professionally.

She tongued her external speaker on. Though she kept her gun shouldered, she didn't raise it. Too soon to do that yet and too many civilians around. Besides, duking it out with these Vagrants, neo-human or not, was not the ideal outcome. There was no way of knowing what powers he had. A lot of damage could be done, to her, to him, to the ten square city blocks they stood in.

Raz used her parade voice. Hard to ignore, even in a suit.

"EVERYONE CLEAR THE AREA NOW! MOVE IT, MOVE!"

She never took her eyes off the man, noticing his odd shield he carried. As her voice thundered over the area, the sheer authority with which she spoke encouraged many rubber neckers to move out. Or at the very least, retreat to about twenty five yards away. Idiots. Still, the police would deal with that when they got here. Right now, her job was to keep everyone safe.

She approached him warily, keeping a good distance between them. "I hear you're new in town, sir," she said calmly. "I understand you hit ground about two minutes ago. I don't want anyone to get hurt here so why don't you come with me, and we'll get everything sorted out. How's that sound?"

Captain America Blue Dragon

Josh hadn't strayed far. He had disappeared into the crowd, and was intending to blend in and make sure that Cap had ran. Instead, one of those super soldiers he'd heard that the government had been hiring once the manhunt for the neo-humans and vagrants had begun, would show up. Oh, that was just great... But his horror grew as he saw Cap AGREE to go with them!

He was about to intervene, every inch of his being told him to. He was moments from calling out to the Captain that they were lying, and to make a run for it! But he soon realized the same thing that Captain America did. If they made a run for it here, with the crowd here, they would only put civilians in danger if the super soldier began firing. And he didn't put it past them to do just that.

Letting out a low growl, he would blend into the crowd and disappear. He would leave someone there to keep plans should the Captain go there, though he would let them know he may not be coming, and to be on guard and run if the police arrive in case Cap tells them where he is. Josh himself would be at the meeting place at the annoited time, but wouldn't stay long, and would leave should the police arrive there as well.

But for now... Once he was out of sight, he would duck into an alley and dial @wanda 's number. Getting voicemail, he would leave a message, his head held low.

"Hey Wanda..." He spoke quietly, his voice cracking as he spoke. It was no secret he was clearly upset in his voice as his head lowered. "I... Your friend, Captain America. He's here... He dropped into this world. I tried to arrange a meeting with him somewhere away from it, but the cops and this super soldier arrived, and...

He went willingly."

He seethed in those last moments, gritting his teeth. In his eyes, he'd failed. Wanda had talked so much about this man and how important she was to him, and he'd failed him, and he'd failed her. That manhunting government had him... And god knows what would happen next. He felt horrible, for his own failures, but felt worse for the fact he had failed to protect someone Wanda held dear.

"They have him. I... I'm so sorry, Wanda. I tried everything I could."

His entire body was shaking, and he slumped against the wall as the reality of the situation truly hit him.

"... I hope you can forgive me."

With that, he hung up, before his eyes would glow a crimson tint... He would find himself furiously punching the wall in a moment of anguish and anger. Normally, this would cause someone's fist to begin bleeding, especially with the large dent it left in the wall... But not Josh, not the Blue Dragon. While his bone density was strong... Right now, he felt anything but.

"DAMNIT!" He found himself screaming. He left the dented wall behind as he would duck out, and storm off...

He'd failed, in his eyes. 

He had failed again.

(Exit Josh for now. Should I be needed later in the thread, let me know and I will re-enter)

Raz - Captain America

His grip lessened, if only slightly, on the soldier's acceptance of his terms. If they were comfortable with allowing him to hold on to the shield, then it helped convince him that they didn't want to bring this to a fight. He was still wary, however. They could be moving soldiers in along the skyline; classic assassination attempt. Or capture. A target was far less prone to fight back when they knew a sniper had their forehead in a scope. But whether he had the shield or not, the best he could do to avoid that scenario would be to stay on the move -- and considering his options, doing that would prove difficult.

"Appreciated. Seems like this is the only thing I've got from home. Not eager to part with it." he shifted barely, slowly and carefully so as to not startle the other soldier. For all intents and purposes, this was a first contact scenario. Everything said and done needed to be done only after careful consideration. At least, according to what little experience his society had with previously undiscovered species or cultures. Sadly, it was rare that the tactic worked in the long run, as the Kree, Skrull, and Shi'Ar encounters would attest. Steve hoped to avoid that, in this case. For one, he was horribly outnumbered.

He remained still for the duration of the soldier's contact with what must have been their version of headquarters. The Captain had assumed the helmet allowed for external and internal voice, much like Iron Man's armor, and so he guessed that their continued use of the external microphone was as much a show as it was truth. They wanted him to know that the air force was being called off; though whether that was to garner trust or to lure into a sense of security was another matter. Steve weighed both sides, but in the end it didn't matter. He needed information about this new world, and he couldn't afford to blindly charge in. Their world, their rules. If they wanted to hardball this, he'd play along, but fortunately for now it seemed that wasn't the case.

The dialogue did help confirm the stranger's story, from before. Vagrants -- it was an official term this government was using to describe individuals from other universes. Useful info; at the least, it meant that these events where people were falling into the world from other places was a common thing. At the most, it meant the governing factions had experienced these events frequently enough that they'd drafted contingencies for them. A military response, while drastic, made sense. If Bruce Banner dropped into Central Park like he had...

Super-Soldier over there would have their armor fit snug into a rock.

Following the recall, they gave a well-meant warning. Steve didn't blame them. He'd do the same, and had on numerous circumstances. "Understood. I'll do what I can to make that unnecessary. I don't want to put them at risk any more than you." He knew it was a cold comfort, but if this came down to a matter of trust, then they were both in the same position. He couldn't trust them anymore than they could trust him. There was no history there. All either of them could do was give the other no reason to believe there was a threat. As long as they could avoid that, there was a high chance this could be resolved peacefully, and Steve could figure out what he needed to know.

She adopted a new posture, now. One that could just as easily be a sign of peace as it could be of war. He recognized the form, he'd mastered it among many others as well. But he'd treat it, for now, as it was hopefully meant. They introduced themselves at last; though Steve was put off by the number. Did they designate their people by numeric value in this world? Or was it only for the classification of their soldiers? Hitler desired a similar setup in his perfect world, where each and every citizen was given a number. It gave him an eerie tingle down his spine.

Regardless, he answered in turn, "Captain Steven Grant Rogers, United States Army, Avenger. Boys back home took to calling me Captain America." His posture remained the same. He stood straight and tall, one hand hung loosely at his side, the other clenched behind his shield. It seemed a neutral stance, and for the most part it was. With his experience, with his reflexes, he didn't need a form. His keen eyes and mind was analyzing every movement. Any action made that meant harm towards him could be dealt with at a moment's notice. "If there's a place you'd be more comfortable with me being, name it. With all due respect, it'd be better for both of us if we got off the streets and somewhere more stable for your guys."

He had a feeling Raz would be more at ease if there were more soldiers around to keep him pacified if worst came to worst, and he was not about to deny that advantage. Plus, that stranger... There were dissenters here, and Steve had no way of knowing how deeply their revolt went. If there was a chance that a rebellion of sorts could be working against the government, he had no desire to give them a target and risk those around them. It was in their best interest to get to a military-controlled area as soon as possible.

"It's reasonable to be cautious. I'm sure I'm not the only one you've had to confront like this, and if I'm right, more than often they don't go smoothly. I'm willing to do this by your rules. If there's anything you need me to do, I will, within reason."


Raz

He couldn't speak for how they must have felt emotionally, assuming soldier's of their caliber and make were still capable of that sort of feeling, but Steve caught the change of tone and posture. As slight as it was, he had learned through his many years to gauge an individual's stance and connect that to their body's over-all tension; coupled with his own heightened sense of awareness, and even the slightest shift would not go unnoticed. It was difficult, if not impossible, to say that they were relaxed in actuality and not feigning it for the sake of coercing Steve into dropping his own guard, but the Captain hoped for the best.

Raz's voice, at least, indicated they were more relaxed; though Peter Parker had taught him first hand that you didn't need to be off guard to engage in small talk. If nothing less, the commentary served as another tactic to pick away at an opponent's psyche, and in the preferred scenario it eventually caused them to give in to their overconfidence and anger. It was a strategy that worked well, although it took a special kind to perform it. But they -- Steve and Raz -- weren't your average warriors. It wasn't in his personality, but Steve could pull it off. There was no denying that Raz could likely do it too.

"Less than we'd like." He muttered with a touch of regret at her comment of patriots. His mind briefly drifted to all those who'd been influenced by his image, in the wrong way. Those who he'd had to arrest, sometimes even kill, who claimed they were doing as he would have. Still, also, to all those whose obligations and priorities were towards money, power, and all things selfish. They were rampant in his own world. He was close friends with one who teetered on that line constantly.

Returning to the present, he finally strapped his shield across his back. He could retrieve it at a moments notice, and he didn't need it to be in his hand for him to wield it. In the best case situation, it wouldn't be needed at all, and Steve banked on that. Of course he knew that the odds of this all ending peacefully weren't in his favor, just in knowing how reality liked to bite its puppets in the rear. But that didn't stop him from hoping. Just like personally knowing a Norse god didn't stop him from praying. Having freed his hand, he mirrored Raz's action, standing straight and tall and giving a salute of his own. "Appreciate the hospitality, Colonel."

The fact that he'd been welcomed to Earth, when he'd come from Earth in the first place, was not lost on him.

His nerves were, however, struck when Raz suggested a hand shake. While it was a harmless gesture in theory, Steve knew full well the danger it put a person in. It was an underhanded, back-stabbing, cowardly trick that many jokester and assassin types had used in the past. It was one he himself had used on Tony Stark, so long ago. That brief moment of trust imbued within such a simple action opened the door to the most base form of sabotage. Whether that be via a shocking palm, a poisoned needle... Or an electromagnetic destabilizer designed to shut down Iron Man's armor. It was all the same, and with the same intent. Betrayal.

But was that what Raz had in mind? There was no way of knowing for sure. Steve had used the trick once, and he hated himself for it, and would never let himself live it down. As much as he wished others would feel the same, he was not so naive that he would give the other party the benefit of the doubt on the off-chance that they were, in fact, more honorable than even he had been. Yet, what was there to be done? He was the surrendering party, in this instance. They had already withdrawn their air support, Steve knew that much, and if they wanted to take him down, by now they would have already. Was it too hard to imagine this was all a show to make his take-down that much easier?

Not at all.

But he knew he didn't have a choice. If he wanted any chance at all of getting out of this without a scuffle, it was to play by their rules, and follow their suggestions -- no matter how subtle. That, accompanied by Raz's own explanation for the act, was what drew Steve forward. "Don't worry, I don't make a habit of using fire arms, unless it's necessary. You won't take any stray bullets on my watch." He knew there were cameras watching, by this point. No doubt, whatever happened here, it would be on the highlights and front pages within the week. It was important for both of them to make that good impression, even if that meant briefly setting caution to the wind.

With that in mind, he nodded as their hands met in a firm greeting, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Colonel. I hope we can help prove that not all of my 'kind' mean harm."

He was pleasantly surprised when, shortly after, he caught the rumbling complaint of Raz's stomach, and they suggested rushing back to where she'd come from to get a bite to eat. Steve could go hours, days even, without a bite, but he'd been on the field for some time already before being thrust into this new world. The idea of food was a welcome one. That, and the fact Raz hadn't attempted to kill him yet, eased Steve more than anything else thus far.

"Good Lord!" He exclaimed, "Hotdogs! I'd almost given up hope this world had any!"

The minutes went on. Raz led the way back to the stand she'd originally been at before his unintentional deployment. Along the way, Steve caught brief sight down the wide city lanes of armored vehicles blockading the crosswalks. He realized they were limiting traffic in the area to better control the civilians; likely both to protect them, and to protect him from the inevitable hate mob his presence would likely cause. Those that remained in the cordoned off zone stared with varied expressions -- some terrified, others angered, some confused, others simply curious.

He'd taken the opportunity to ask basic, non-probing questions about the political climate; if the US was still a democracy, the amendments, and other topics of that nature that could be granted simple answers that didn't compromise military operations or any sort of security. Just so he could catch his bearings, without giving Raz any reason to be wary. When they had reached the hotdog connoisseur, he had finally gotten around to what he really wanted to ask.

"You mentioned fights here on American soil." he started, as they left the edge of the park, "And, neos. Back in my world, people with powers are rampant, and we've done our best to help keep them integrated with the rest of society. There's even a school for 'em." He hated the term 'mutant', even while Charles Xavier claimed it was a title to be proud of. "But things don't always go that smoothly. We'd just begun recovering from a civil war that claimed the lives of thousands of people, that stemmed from their existence." There was a pain of regret in the memory. He'd been an integral part in starting that conflict, and he'd done many things he'd never forget.

He remembered what the stranger had told him, that the government had been rounding up neos and vagrants as much as they could. What happened to them afterwards could only be guessed, but it seemed eerily similar to the state his own world had been not too long before. "How bad are we talking, here?"




Raz