Heroes for Hire #1: A Gathering of Heroes




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    Heroes for Hire #1: A Gathering of Heroes

    Asgard: Odin’s Throneroom, days ago.

    A beautiful blond knelt prostrate before an immense throne. On the throne sat a whitebearded giant of a man wearing a gold-gilded eyepatch over one eye.
    Odin the All-Father, leader of the Asgardian Pantheon regarded the prone beauty momentarily and rose to his feet. He gestured to the goddess with his Uru scepter Thurdstrock, “Amora thou are accused of taking the form of Idunn in a plot to seduce her husband Bragi the long-bearded and to steal the apples of immortality!”

    “But sire---“

    “I say thee nay!!!!” Odin’s voice boomed. Despite herself Amora could not help but to cringe.
    “Do not utter a word lest ye rise my ire even further!” Amora dared not even breathe. Damn the cow Idunn, she would see to it that she would pay. “For thy crimes thou shalt be punished. Aye, thy are fair wench, but ye must learn humility and kindness. For this I should strip ye of thy beauty. Would that humble ye?”Amora gasped and threw herself sobbing onto Odin’s ankles.

    “Nay All-Father!! Slay me if ye must!! Anything but that!!”

    “Nay, for thou art so fair that it would be a larger crime for me to mar such beauty…Nay thou shalt be banished to Midgard.” A hidden smile formed beneath Amora’s tears.
    “Aye banished--” he said again stepping back from her.

    “Thank you Sire!”

    “—And stripped of thy Immortality, and godly power!!”

    “Wh—NO!” But it was too late. Arcane energy sprung from Odin’s one good eye and lanced through Amora, wrenching from her every last ounce of divine power.
    From her scrying crystal Amora’s sister, Lorelei smiled as she looked on. Smiled and laughed…

    New York City, Today

    When Amora awoke she was in a city parking lot. She wandered for days in a daze. Lost and hungry, hardly able to conceive her current circumstances. She took refuge in an alleyway. Weak from hunger it was inevitable that those who prey upon the weak would fall upon her.

    “Lookie what we got here Rocco…”

    “Suh-weeet! Looks like we’re gonna have some fun today boys. Aint that right Mongo?”

    “Yeah…but I get’s me a piece first Snake!”

    As one the trio begin accosting the Asgardian. At first her efforts to fend them off are feeble at best. Then something sparked inside her….

    “Unhand me you curs!!” she yelled and sent all three men in various directions with a shrug. Then with a gesture she summoned eldritch bands of energy ensnaring her would be attackers and holding them aloft before her. “I should flay you all for attempting to defile me. But you inadvertently freed me from my reverie, so I gift you with your pathetic lives. However….” With a thought, all of the hoodlums clothing tore free from their bodies and they were flung into the main street like so much garbage.

    Amora then looked done at herself. “Tsk! This shall never do.” She said aloud and with a sweeping motion her tattered and stained clothing became whole once more.

    She was herself again. At least in mind, and somewhat in body. Her lithe statuesque form stilled weighed in at 450 pounds and could perform feats of strength, while not godly, were still superior by human standards. Odin could not strip her of her Arcane knowledge she learned over the centuries. Her spellcasting, while weak in comparison to her former feats, could still match most Mortal sorcerers. And most important of all, she still had her beauty. But what to do now? She had to prove somehow that she had learned “Humility and Kindness.” Or she would forever be trapped and crippled in this mortal coil. What could she—Her thought process and stride was interrupted by a TV in the window of the local pawnshop. A bearded blond man was announcing tryouts for a local “Hero” group.
    “OF COURSE!” she said, and willed herself into the air. “A hero…” she smiled and took off into the skyline.
    Last edited by hero4hire; Friday, 22nd October, 2004 at 04:25 AM.
    http://leb.wikia.com/wiki/LEB:PC:Filo_d%27Jorasco_(Hero4Hire)

 

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    Clairton West Virginia, Today

    From a nearby rooftop a dead man gazed at a vacant lot that used to be his home. Brock Jones sighed. Clairton had changed a bit since he had been ‘away’. He didn’t know why he came here. His wife and children had long since moved away. How he longed to speak with his wife Lorraine and to hug his kids Ann, Tammy, and Daniel. Heck, the first thing he did when he arrived back on Earth was to try to find them. He eventually found them back in NYC. It was a good thing he decided to check on them before he knocked on the front door. Using his Visor, he was able to see them without getting to close. He saw that his wife was remarried, and HAPPY! He barely recognized his kids because they had grown so much. He couldn’t bear the thought of causing them more pain.
    He wasn’t even really sure that he was even Brock Jones! Sure, he had all the memories and the feelings of Jones…But he was the product of Dire Wraith sorcery. Somehow the Wraiths brought him back to life in a plot to kill Rom the Spaceknight. Under the Wraiths control he went to Galador to kill his old ally. He found an all-to-human Rom with his consort Brandy. Battling the fledgling Spaceknights using a perfect copy of the Torpedo armor, he eventually was able to break free from the Wraiths’ influence with the assistance a newly armored Rom. Together they struck back at the Dire Wraiths, perhaps ending their threat forever.
    Brock was beginning to regret not staying on Galador like Rom had offered. Here on Earth everyone had moved on. Brock Jones was dead to the world. He meant to keep it that way. Now there was only Torpedo! Ankle turbines whirred to life making a sound not unlike a miniature jet engine. He took the air with a whoosh and in a second he was super-sonic. He rocketed east, to perhaps the only prospect he had left for a life.
    To be a hero.
    Last edited by hero4hire; Thursday, 21st October, 2004 at 05:58 AM.
    http://leb.wikia.com/wiki/LEB:PC:Filo_d%27Jorasco_(Hero4Hire)

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    Weisshorn Mountain, Switzerland: Three Months Ago

    In the dungeons of a looming castle cradled in the mountainside, sat a laboratory that would put Dr. Frankenstein to shame. Inside this laboratory several glass tubes, each large enough to hold a man, lined the walls. The silhouettes of figures could be vaguely made out through the murky chemicals that each tube contained. A computer console adorned each vat, displaying a digital read out of the contents within. A high-pitched pinging sound cut through the eerie silence. The sound was emitting from the panel on a tube perhaps halfway into the 30 or so tubes in the place. The panel read ‘ERROR’ and blinked furiously. Without any instructions from it’s missing owner the computer panel resolved its error. ‘PURGE’ could be plainly read across its dusty screen. The contents of the vat were forcibly expelled into some sort of waste disposal system. The figure’s first waking thought was the sensation of speed, as it raced through the underground tunnels, like it was on some kind of water park ride. Somehow though this was not an unfamiliar sensation to him at all. Not fully conscious yet. The man was abruptly shot into the open air. Instinctively the man spread out and braced for the impact. After a few moments of free fall he landed in several feet of fresh powder. Softening what would have otherwise been a lethal impact. Naked and exposed to the elements, he might have died if not happened upon by some local skiers.
    Sitting by the fire pit of a mountain lodge, the man struggled to organize his thoughts.
    “Who am I? What is my name? BLUE STREAK! Yes, that is my name…But not my name….Damn, why can’t I remember. Okay calm down Streak.. What was the last thing you remember? You tussled with that old has-been Captain America, and you suckered him real good, and were sure to make a clean getaway. But one of your skates was damaged. You had to hitch a ride. There was a truck…and the trucker…and the GUN!!” Blue Streak’s eyes flashed open “Oh crap!!!” he managed to say before vomiting the hot soup and cocoa he was fed when arriving there.

    The next couple of months went by in a blur. Using some old SHIELD contacts he managed to get a fake passport and out of Switzerland. It was awhile before he found one of his old hideouts that hadn’t been ransacked. Piecing together another set of armor he was finally ready to make another debut as ‘the meanest mother on 8 wheels’. This time though it was going to be different. Getting shot in the face kind of put things into perspective. Maybe he could put his talents to some good use. Maybe help some folks. And hey! If there was a buck to be made to boot? What’s the harm? He was going to be a Hero, and he knew just where to start.
    http://leb.wikia.com/wiki/LEB:PC:Filo_d%27Jorasco_(Hero4Hire)

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    Offices of Leiberman Promotions, New York City: One Week Ago

    “Whadayamean I’m broke!!!” yelled an overly muscled man with the hint of red stubble growing on his shaved head. The object of his anger, sitting at a messy desk, was a portly looking fellow in a cheap ‘off-the-rack suit’. Which looked as if the collar painfully pinched his ample jowls.

    “Look, Dennis-Baby. How many times do I gotta go over it? You’re busted baby. You were declared dead, half your assets were seized by the government. Ya haven’t been bringing in any bucks cuz the Wrestlin’ gig went south. Ya spent mucho dinero on planes and bikes. Even after ya came back, ya spent yer time down with those Mole-people.”

    “Zero-Town”

    “Whatever! I know ya had some stuff to work out…And Doc Samson has done wonders for ya. Yer lookin’ aces kid! But that Doc cost plenty of greenbacks.”

    “Alright, alright…So what should I do?”

    “Lissen kid have I got a gig for you! Ya said ya wanted to get back into that Super-Hero thing right?"

    Fade To Black
    http://leb.wikia.com/wiki/LEB:PC:Filo_d%27Jorasco_(Hero4Hire)

  • #5
    Torpedo

    Jones hovers in place thousands of feet over NYC, studying the skyline. 'Good Lord, so much has changed...' He wonders, not for the first time, if coming back to Earth was such a good idea. 'Maybe I should have just stayed on Galador, with Rom...but I missed them so much. It's been so long, and now...now they're half-grown, with...with another...another...' He nearly chokes, trying to stem the flow of tears as his brain balks at even thinking the words. 'Enough of that. You've done plenty grieving for now, dammit, Brock, let's suck it up and stick to the plan. You've been entrusted with one of the most potent weapons ever wielded by a human being on this planet or a half-dozen others; you have a purpose and a place here. Nobody knows how many Wraiths are still out there, but you know for certain that if there are, they'll come for Earth--and you--eventually. Now let's go down there and begin your new life.

    With hope in his heart, Earth's newest hero descends.

  • #6
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    New York City, SoHo District: Yesterday


    The beautiful young lady immersed herself in the sculpture. She took in the lines and curves…How they flowed effortlessly into each other. She could almost feel as if she herself were sculpting it. Indeed, with her unique talent she remembered the movement of every muscle, every little twitch from when she made the artwork.
    Maya was torn from her reverie by a hand placed on her shoulder. Maya spun and almost attacked, until she saw the prim looking woman who must work at the gallery.

    “I said…You’re not allowed to touch the artwork ma’am.” Maya read on the woman’s lips.

    “I…apologize. I was so engrossed in the piece I must have lost my head.”

    “No harm done. It is beautiful work. Have you heard the story of the artist? Well it was quite a scandal. The young lady. Ms. Lopez shot her benefactor and adopted father in the head. Well---“

    “No I hadn’t heard.” Maya cut the lady off and promptly turned and walked out of the building onto West Broadway. If the woman said anything else, Maya had no idea.

    She should’ve expected as much. Although all the charges had been mysteriously dropped, her reputation as an artist had been ruined. She thought back to the events that unfolded. Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin as she learned he was called, manipulated her into trying to kill the only man she ever loved. Distraught, she went on a Vision Quest in an attempt to find peace. (OOC: More on this later when I actually read DAREDEVIL VOLUME 8: ECHO -- VISION QUEST, which I just ordered) Discovering that all the charges had been dropped she came back to Manhattan. Fisk, of course, was still in hiding. How he survived she could not guess. She still was not ready to face Matt. To much had gone between them. So she found herself at the gallery…reminiscing.

    She looked up at the city sky as she walked, oblivious to the noise all about her, wondering what sound clouds make.
    Well her little experience inside proved to her she wouldn’t be making a living as an artist anymore. What could she do? Something to keep her local, a job where her reputation would not haunt her, yet where she could show off her unique skills.

    Nimbly she sidestepped a man who also was not watching wear he was going. The man stumbled and fell, the paper he was reading, the Daily Bugle, sprawled out before him.

    “Crissakes lady, watchwearyergoin fer crissakes!”

    She was about to retort and she noticed the Headlines, ‘Oracle Corporation hiring Super Powered Menaces’ she grabbed the paper and ignored the man as he engaged in a colloquial form of sign language. The Editiorial, by J. Jonah Jameson, went on to explain the a new Heroes foe Hire group was forming, and open tryouts were tomorrow.

    “Hmmm, a hero…” Maya mused.
    http://leb.wikia.com/wiki/LEB:PC:Filo_d%27Jorasco_(Hero4Hire)

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    Marsielle, France: One month ago

    The handsome, impeccably dressed man, put all of his chips on Black. The buxom brunette languishing on his arm gasped.

    “Oh my Paul, so much money on one bet?”

    “What’s life without risk baby?”

    The wheel spun…

    “Seven Black.” A murmur of approval came from the crowd accompanied by a squeal of delight from his companion.

    “Pardon me sir, but the gentlemen over there sent you this and asked if you might join him.” The waiter offered him a glass of wine on a tray.

    ‘Paul’ looked over to man at the table. He had never met him before, but he recognized him.

    “Excuse me for a second beautiful.” He said to his shapely but vacant escort and sauntered over to the table.

    “Château d'Estournel, I am impressed. 1938 I believe?”

    “1939, the harvest was much better that year if I recall.”

    “Hmm, you look shockingly good for a man of your advanced years then.”

    “I am glad it meets your approval please join me then, Mr. Denning. I have a business proposal.”

    “I am sorry Mr. Hammond, but I work for one of your competitors.”

    “Yes I am aware that Silver Sable has you on retainer, and I also know your contract is up for renegotiation.”


    “You’ve done your homework I see.”

    “Yes, I plan on reforming Heroes for Hire, but with an all new roster. I am sure this will be an inexperienced and motley crew, and I need someone of experience, and skill to lead them and form them into a cohesive unit.”

    “This all sounds very interesting Mr. Hammond, may I call you Jim. Jim, as I said I work for your competitor, and well I am fairly happy with the arrangement.”

    The two stared at each other for a long moment. One could almost see an inner fire burning in Hammond’s eyes. Suddenly Hammond broke the awkward silence pulling out a fountain pen and a ledger.

    “Perhaps this will change your mind.” Hammond said writing out a check and handing it to ‘Denning’.

    “Listen you’re wasting—“ he stopped abruptly and gaped at the check despite himself.

    “Jim, you got yourself a deal!”

    “Welcome to Heroes for Hire, Paladin.”
    http://leb.wikia.com/wiki/LEB:PC:Filo_d%27Jorasco_(Hero4Hire)

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    Quote Originally Posted by hero4hire
    New York City, SoHo District: Yesterday
    Nimbly she sidestepped a man who also was not watching wear he was going. The man stumbled and fell, the paper he was reading, the Daily Bugle, sprawled out before him.

    “Crissakes lady, watchwearyergoin fer crissakes!”

    She was about to retort and she noticed the Headlines, ‘Oracle Corporation hiring Super Powered Menaces’ she grabbed the paper and ignored the man as he engaged in a colloquial form of sign language. The Editiorial, by J. Jonah Jameson, went on to explain the a new Heroes foe Hire group was forming, and open tryouts were tomorrow.

    “Hmmm, a hero…” Maya mused.

    Maya continues to ignore the man for a moment longer. Forming her hand into a writing posture, she "air writes" the pertinent details from the editorial (time, place, contacts, etc). Later, when she has an actual pen handy, she'll be able to re-enact her mimed writing.

    Finished, she looks back up at the man. Clearly, he has continued to share some unpleasantries with her while she was looking at the paper. Deafness does have its advantages once in a while.

    "Thank you," she says, handing back the paper and continuing on her way.
    -Rybaer


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  • #9
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    Demolition Man

    Offices of Leiberman Promotions, New York City: One Week Ago

    He sat back in the worn out chair, in his sweat shirt and wind pants, as he rubbed the top of his head and listened. The stubble actually felt good.

    Heroes For Hire...... I'm pretty sure that's the outfit Power Man and Iron Fist set up. Super Heroes who get paid. Might not be a bad gig. I can get back into action and get my savings going. Zero Town's in good shape without me and I'm not really ready to take Cap up on his offer to rejoin the Avengers.... Yeah, I think Heroes for Hire is just what D-Man needs.

    He continued to listen to the spiel for the team but it didn't matter, he had made up his mind. He was going to be a super hero, again.
    Last edited by Nuke261; Monday, 25th October, 2004 at 03:45 AM.

  • #10
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    Paladin

    Marsielle, France

    Quote Originally Posted by Hammond
    “Welcome to Heroes for Hire, Paladin.”
    “Of course, there are a couple of things that I need to take care of before coming to America,” Paul explained, hedging. “I should be there in a couple of weeks at the latest.”

    ‘Plus, I want to get this check validated and into a bank account as soon as possible . . . before he changes his mind,’ Paul thought. ‘Why does that many zeros always get mind mouth saying yes before my brain can say no?’

    Paul walked away and tucked the check into the money sleeve inside his shirt as subtly and casually as he could. No reason to draw attention to the check – not any more than he already had. He looked at the roulette board as the brunette . . . ‘What was here name again . . . nevermind – go with baby’ Paul thought . . . sidled up to him, molding herself to him. He motioned to the dealer to gather his winnings, then to the pit boss to have it counted and added to his account.

    Paul Denning smiled his best smile to the brunette, and Paul only thought of the rest of the evening . . . leaving the tougher decisions – like what he was going to tell Sable – for the morning.

    Three weeks later, Paul was reclining in first class on a jet to America. He had purchased two tickets, in case he wanted to invite someone that caught his eye back in coach, but no one had. Sable had been surprisingly short with him when he explained what he was doing – and Paul had told her that if she would exceed the check amount he would stay on retainer, but she had declined. Paul still frowned slightly at the thought. Sable was a much better looker than Hammond was.

    ‘Wonder what Janet is doing?’ Paul thought.

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