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Post by Atomic Robo on Jun 9, 2015 12:28:27 GMT -7
yoo
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Post by daredoodle on Jun 9, 2015 12:34:57 GMT -7
eyyy
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Post by Atomic Robo on Jun 9, 2015 12:38:24 GMT -7
PERF
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Post by Daredevil on Jun 9, 2015 12:40:00 GMT -7
x) thank you and i'll begin working on my starting post now. (warning: it's gonna be hella long)
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Post by Atomic Robo on Jun 9, 2015 12:44:19 GMT -7
AIEET HELLA LONG POSTS
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Post by Daredevil on Jun 9, 2015 12:56:09 GMT -7
The blind man’s day had been going normally: he woke up and took a cab to work, and as usual, he and his other two employees had spent most of the day procrastinating, waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t like the small law firm had any urgent cases or anything; in fact, Nelson and Murdock were struggling to even get clients. When the clock finally reached five, the three employees said their goodbyes, and Matt took another taxi back to his apartment. 7:30 was when the second part of his day usually commenced. As he clambered up the side of an old, brick apartment building, the young man grimaced. It was raining tonight, and it was just enough to drown out his senses a little bit. He already knew he would have to strain to be able to hear phone calls and voices. As he pondered this, he accidentally missed a rung on the ladder, and his hand slipped, leaving him dangling momentarily. Matt grit his teeth and cursed quietly, and he promptly gathered himself once more and continued his ascent to the top of the building. Once he reached the top, he sat down on the ledge overlooking the city with a small sigh. He cocked his head left and right, testing his hearing. He could faintly make out a woman’s voice ordering at a hot dog kiosk, but that seemed to be roughly only a mile away. His nose was also going to be a bit of a roadblock; as of right now, the only smells Matt could pick up was the gritty, heavy smell of rain on pavement. The man tried his best to keep in good spirits, despite all this. Hell’s Kitchen was his city, and no matter what the weather, he was going to protect it. Twenty minutes passed without a single alarming sound or smell, and the young man was starting to get restless as he tired of waiting. But suddenly, as clear as day, he heard a high pitched scream, followed by frantic shuffling of feet. Daredevil leapt to his feet and whipped around, trying to trace the direction from which it came. He finally decided it was to his left, and about a half a mile away. With a grunt, he broke into a sprint, and launched himself off the side of the apartment building, and landed on both feet onto the adjacent roof. He sprinted towards the scuffle, his focus solely on saving whoever was in trouble.
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Post by Daredevil on Jun 9, 2015 12:57:02 GMT -7
oh thanks for tinkering with my profile XD
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Post by Atomic Robo on Jun 9, 2015 13:04:34 GMT -7
You're welcome. Tesladyne Industries is happy to help.
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Post by Atomic Robo on Jun 9, 2015 13:21:27 GMT -7
At the same time just off the coast of the eastern United States, an offshore headquarters bustled with activity. It was no more than usually so, but for the fact that it was all alone out on the ocean made it appear all the more active. Inside Tesladyne, scientists abounded, working on various projects in just as varied departments ranging from exotic ballistics to signal intelligence. In one such department a remarkably unusual person went about his business inspecting the latest generation of lightning gun.
"Jenkins," he stated. It was more or less a greeting, but the person it was directed at simply grunted his acknowledgement. This was customary of the feared Jenkins, since he never did need many words to get his point across. Jenkins crossed the scientifically reinforced room in long strides, and the person beside him quickened his own pace to keep up. "Did you get the latest version hooked up yet?"
"Mmm-hmm," Jenkins responded plainly, reading the final components. His companion nodded and picked up a formidable-looking gun that had a long barrel and various nobs and dials all over it. "Go for it," he said.
If Robo had a face he could emote with, he'd have been grinning. The dial was set to a modest "one", but when the short-statured robot pulled the trigger it exploded with so much electricity that he was shoved back into the wall of the containment field. The force of his impact shook the reinforced plastic but didn't crack it, fortunately for the human standing behind him. "Oww," Robo moaned after a moment. "I thought we fixed that problem," he complained. "Didn't we fix that?"
"Apparently not," said the unreadable Jenkins. He looked as if he was about to say something else, but suddenly the room became tinted withplastic alarms flashed and flared frantically.
Inside the plastic box-like room, the defectively lightning gun began to quiver and vibrate. "It's not supposed to do that," Robo stated, standing quickly and shoving the gun away from him. "Why is it doing that?"
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Post by Daredevil on Jun 9, 2015 19:06:57 GMT -7
(So sorry for the delay, I had a friend over and then had physical therapy. Didn't have time to tell you :/ )
As the young man raced across the slick rooftops, he took care not to aggravate his core area too much; he had recently stopped a scuffle in an alley, but one of the kids had a knife with him. Matt felt the stitches holding the wound together stretch and pull with each stride, and could even hear the subtle sound of flesh ripping. Though the wound wasn't bad, it certainly acted as a reminder of what could happen, and what has happened. But it didn't bother him much. He'd been through much worse. That same harsh scream ripped through the soft rainfall noise yet again, but it was much closer to him this time. It was only a couple long strides away from where he was. Matt had a fairly accurate idea of the situation going on below him: it was a woman, perhaps in her teens, being assaulted by two men. One had either a gun or a knife. He could smell the acrid, sharp scent of something metallic, but the rain prevented him from picking up the scent of gunpowder as well. As he reached the edge of another building, he dropped into a lower stance and flung himself over the edge, his baton locked in his grip. Matt landed on both feet rather gracefully, almost in a catlike manner, but he wavered slightly as the pain from his wound shot up his body. He heard all three people gasp in shock, and he could smell the adrenaline hanging thick in the air, almost like smoke. "Oh shit," he heard one of the two men whisper. His voice was thick, and deep; Matt assumed he was African-American. "It's Daredevil." He heard his heart beat quicker in fear. The young man couldn't help but swell with pride at the mention of his name. It was good that his name and actions were starting to get out to the more general public, so hopefully thugs like these guys would start to think twice. Maybe. He never understood them, really. He could smell fear coming off in waves from the other thug, who he could tell was significantly smaller than his counterpart. "Let's get out of here, bro," the companion stuttered, his voice swollen with apprehension. The smaller thug nodded at his friend, and the two of them took off running down the alley, stumbling. The young man glared after them as they ran, listening as their footsteps quieted and quieted until they were lost among the rainfall. Matt sighed in relief, thankful that he was able to avoid a physical confrontation. The Daredevil must seem pretty notorious, he assumed.
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