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The Watcher
Captain America Quest Vol. 1 Issue #1 2016-05-03 23:44:05 Post No. 54398
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Captain America Quest Vol. 1 Issue #1 2016-05-03 23:44:05 Post No. 54398
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File: Captain America 001 (2013) (Paolo Rivera Hastings Department Store Variant) (Cover ONLY) (ScanDog+ArtNet).jpg (996KB, 1440x2202px) Image search:
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You're in Manhattan, the Lower East Side, 1926. You’re a six year old boy huddled under a table with your hands over your ears as your mom and dad have another screaming match. He’s screaming about how hard the job market is, she’s shooting back that it would be easier if he’d just look. He says the foreman hates Irish, she says he’s always blaming everyone else - just like his father.
Smack.
She hits the floor and he shouts about what she’s trying to do to him - what she’s trying to make him look like in front of his son. Comparing him to that laggard. She stands up slowly as he rants about how much has been on him, how her job at the garment factory isn’t worth the pennies it brings in. She suggests he go look for jobs with clear eyes.
Smack.
She doesn’t hit the floor that time, but her nose bleeds and his rough hands leave scratches on the new lump on her face. He tells her to watch what she’s suggesting. With her nose blocked and face swollen, she tells him he should get up in the morning and go look for jobs sober. He pulls back again to hit her a third time, then pauses. His face sinks, his voice falters. “I should…I…”
He takes his coat from the rack and storms out the door, closing the door with eery quiet. You burst into tears finally, fleeing from the table and into your mother’s arms. “It’s alright, dear.” she says.
“Wh-why didn’t you j-just stay down, momma?” you ask.
“Because, and you listen close, Steve…” she pauses and takes a breath. “You always stand up.”
———
You’re in Manhattan, way above it, 2014. You’re a ninety-four-year-old twenty-one-year-old man with a shattered hand who has thirty seconds to stop an eco-terrorist named “Green Skull” (a name that hurts you almost as bad as the hand) from crashing a plane loaded with a chemical agent that will kill the entire city by turning them into body-horror plant zombies in order to save nature from mankind or whatever this maniac wants to do. You are specifically hanging from the outside of it, the shield impaled into the roof your only grip on the thing as it falls at a flat vertical trajectory. If you put just enough effort into it, you can probably reach the window and smash it in - although the side door could be promising if you get the angle right. Generally it doesn’t look good right now, but hopefully thirty seconds is enough time to take out Green Skull and his cronies in the plane, then pull the plane up before it’s game over.
You are Captain Steve Rogers. Your name is almost as famous as your heroic identity, the legendary Captain America.
What do you do?
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Ironman is better
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Rolled 6 (1d20)
>>54398
smash the window
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(Evidently tonight is not a good night. I'm gonna let this thread auto-delete and try again later. Sorry gang.)
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>>54969
Aww man, that opening section was so good! I hope I'll catch the real thing when you run it. Good luck.
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>>55010
(Thanks mate, I just now got enraged and told my responsibilities to go fuck themselves. Rocky start aside, HERE WE GO.)
>>54827
The window smashes into pieces as your busted hand hits it like a hammer to glass. Green Skull looks up at you from the pilot's seat and laughs madly, his skull-helmet's jaw flapping up and down as he speaks. "Eight miles high and falling, fascist! Are you ready to have your mind BLOWN!? THIS IS FOR REAL, MAN! OOOOH, ALICE, DIS IS DA BIG ONE!"
You can't safely say you appreciate being compared to Archie Bunker, but you'll let it slide. His mooks start fiddling with their straps, ready to try and knock you off.
>>54812pro-reg pls go
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Rolled 19 (1d20)
>>55624
Strike first, and with deadly precision!
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>>55624
If you aim the shield right, you should be able to ricochet it off of one of the goons heads and right into Green Skull's...skull. Do that.
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Rolled 8 (1d10)
>>55764
The vibranium shield. Duh. Rolling for action.
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>>55715
>Using the leverage of your shield and dislodging it in the process, you fall up in a stomach-lurching motion, the shield catching on a smaller window and giving you something to hold on to. Both feet collide with Green Skull's side and you hear that crack you've heard about a thousand times before. He's definitely gonna feel that.
>He staggers to his feet and wrenches a curious-looking device from one of his servants' belts. He takes aim with the ray gun, intent to fire.
>>55764
>>55777
You loosen and lob the shield with all your might at the guy...behind Green Skull. Oookay. Your gambit pays off, however, as it takes out two of the four mooks, bouncing from them and into Green Skull. He's knocked prone and your shield returns to your hand. Two servants and Green Skull remain, although the 'hooded hippy is somewhat near-unconscious.
"You're way too late, pig! Soon as this thing hits ground, everybody in the world's gonna be growing trees like fertile ground! Boom, branches outta bodies! Mother Gaea will rise again!" he slurs from an apparently broken jaw.
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>>55820
As an adept of most martial arts, 2 goons ought-ta be easy. Show them the taste of freedom.
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>>55850
A stunning victory! Thinking fast, you duck as the two mooks swing at you with electric clubs, colliding them with one another. In one move, you sweep their legs in each hand (the broken one screaming out, but you tell it to shut it) and lob them at Green Skull, taking the last bit of consciousness from him. Now you've still got a problem, and boy is it a doozy - that plane is gonna hit ground any second, and say what you will about urbanization, but at the very least the /people/ of Manhattan don't need a forest growing from their bodies.
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>>55907
Pull up and pull hard. Try not to rip the controls out of the plane.
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>>55949
You barely, barely pull it off. Ignoring your body's pain signals one time too many proves to be a bad idea s your shattered hand rockets agony down your body and nearly knocks you cold. The controls barely hold but you feel your stamina go as you crash into the ocean just off the highway. You're more than ready to pass out, the only thing keeping you conscious being the fact that, with the plane safely in the water and sinking slow, you don't have to tax yourself too much.
As you clamber onto the top of the plane with a bushel of passed-out terrorists and await extraction, you see a crowd of New Yorkers watching in amazement, their empty cars behind them with the doors still open.
Strange, you think they'd be used to this kind of thing by now.
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>>56014
[Gotta go for a while, good place to pause. Will make a new post at the resumption of transmission.]
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