Post by Necromantic Soundwave on Mar 23, 2014 0:09:54 GMT -5
(( For the first thread, I'm railroading everyone into getting to Cuba SOMEHOW, but you know, closely. If this picks up, following threads can be more centered on certain characters rather than a catch-all plot! So, let's make Superior into something, a'ight? ))
The world has moved on from Cuba after the missile crisis. The media has directed its attention to the communism of other lands to bring in its ratings, or even the supers popping up at home. Anything to spark up fear in a post-war America. Likewise, in Russia, the imperial scale game of chess continues all around the world. The lack of supers popping up in Russia has ushered in a super soldier program. Those unlucky few who achieved their powers outside of it have been inducted into the military almost as quickly as word of their appearance has spread.
Thus, a great collection of heroes began. Funding for super groups is offered to anyone willing to sign up. Great powers are coerced into thinking its for the greater good, while for others, heroes are threatened by their heads of state in order to protect their friends and families at home. Protectors of cities are forced into psuedo-military organizations as a sort of bastardization of comic book super groups.
Civil rights groups leap in outrage, encompassing not only their black brothers in this time of need, but those who are forced to work for a government that cares little for its people! In Russia, words of revolution are spoken, but just as quickly hushed by those willing to do anything for the Soviet Union.
With what is coming, some might say this is for the best. Our heroes (and villains) have been gathered up by their heads of state and sent to Cuba in a covert operation to figure out what is going on over there. Word has reached Russia that United States diplomats have been forcing ultimatums on the Cuban people, while in America, they've received the word that Russians are starting deals that could lead to a second missile crisis.
It almost sounds like madness.
____________________________________________________________
The blond-haired man smiled, looking out from the estate of some Prime Minister. Castro, he thought his name was. Daniel was never quite interested in the who, especially when said people weren't part of his machinations to turn the world into his personal tea party. So what was this finely dressed man doing in Cuba, one might ask? Why, having tea and checking his pocket watch every hour, on the hour. In a white shirt and khaki silk vest, as well as some brown, pocketless pants and black boots to finish off the ensemble, he was quite dashing. Even mor so when Daniel put on his red and black jacket. It even had a heart shape on the front, surrounded by a white canvas when he closed it up. But Daniel wasn't wearing that right now. So it should be beyond his thoughts.
He'd been in Cuba for a few months now. Accommodations were never hard to come by when you were one of, if not the world's leading telepath. Throwing out his own brand of madness to all sorts of fools with weak minds was his specialty, and with but another command, his hosts had all but forgotten that they'd hosted Daniel and his compatriots.
While the world meandered about with their political melodrama, warring over political ideologies that weren't worth a damn either way, Daniel and his men were conducting their biggest experiment yet, and luring supers right into his trap.
___________________________________________________________________
Coincidentally, both the Russian and American planes planned on conducting night air drops for the supers into Cuba. A well paying job for both sides (even if some of them are forced into it). Normal soldiers are also on board who will be setting up a base of operations upon landing.
"Ve vill be droppink soon, comrades," spoke a Soviet pilot on their own plane.
"Prepare for drop, soldiers," said, likewise, one of the American pilots.
In the American plane sat an elderly man equipped to look like a wizard out of some fantasy book. Some of the soldiers made jokes about the white-haired geezer, about what use a man far past his prime would be in the field, but a more worldly soldier assured them that supers were more than meets the eye.
The Soviet plane was less filled with supers, but had some of their less than sane super soldiers on board regardless. Many more of them were just normal men, but they were getting quite the decorated officer to lead them in the field, while the Americans left the supers almost entirely in charge of their op.
The world has moved on from Cuba after the missile crisis. The media has directed its attention to the communism of other lands to bring in its ratings, or even the supers popping up at home. Anything to spark up fear in a post-war America. Likewise, in Russia, the imperial scale game of chess continues all around the world. The lack of supers popping up in Russia has ushered in a super soldier program. Those unlucky few who achieved their powers outside of it have been inducted into the military almost as quickly as word of their appearance has spread.
Thus, a great collection of heroes began. Funding for super groups is offered to anyone willing to sign up. Great powers are coerced into thinking its for the greater good, while for others, heroes are threatened by their heads of state in order to protect their friends and families at home. Protectors of cities are forced into psuedo-military organizations as a sort of bastardization of comic book super groups.
Civil rights groups leap in outrage, encompassing not only their black brothers in this time of need, but those who are forced to work for a government that cares little for its people! In Russia, words of revolution are spoken, but just as quickly hushed by those willing to do anything for the Soviet Union.
With what is coming, some might say this is for the best. Our heroes (and villains) have been gathered up by their heads of state and sent to Cuba in a covert operation to figure out what is going on over there. Word has reached Russia that United States diplomats have been forcing ultimatums on the Cuban people, while in America, they've received the word that Russians are starting deals that could lead to a second missile crisis.
It almost sounds like madness.
____________________________________________________________
The blond-haired man smiled, looking out from the estate of some Prime Minister. Castro, he thought his name was. Daniel was never quite interested in the who, especially when said people weren't part of his machinations to turn the world into his personal tea party. So what was this finely dressed man doing in Cuba, one might ask? Why, having tea and checking his pocket watch every hour, on the hour. In a white shirt and khaki silk vest, as well as some brown, pocketless pants and black boots to finish off the ensemble, he was quite dashing. Even mor so when Daniel put on his red and black jacket. It even had a heart shape on the front, surrounded by a white canvas when he closed it up. But Daniel wasn't wearing that right now. So it should be beyond his thoughts.
He'd been in Cuba for a few months now. Accommodations were never hard to come by when you were one of, if not the world's leading telepath. Throwing out his own brand of madness to all sorts of fools with weak minds was his specialty, and with but another command, his hosts had all but forgotten that they'd hosted Daniel and his compatriots.
While the world meandered about with their political melodrama, warring over political ideologies that weren't worth a damn either way, Daniel and his men were conducting their biggest experiment yet, and luring supers right into his trap.
___________________________________________________________________
Coincidentally, both the Russian and American planes planned on conducting night air drops for the supers into Cuba. A well paying job for both sides (even if some of them are forced into it). Normal soldiers are also on board who will be setting up a base of operations upon landing.
"Ve vill be droppink soon, comrades," spoke a Soviet pilot on their own plane.
"Prepare for drop, soldiers," said, likewise, one of the American pilots.
In the American plane sat an elderly man equipped to look like a wizard out of some fantasy book. Some of the soldiers made jokes about the white-haired geezer, about what use a man far past his prime would be in the field, but a more worldly soldier assured them that supers were more than meets the eye.
The Soviet plane was less filled with supers, but had some of their less than sane super soldiers on board regardless. Many more of them were just normal men, but they were getting quite the decorated officer to lead them in the field, while the Americans left the supers almost entirely in charge of their op.
