Jon's Super Hero College game: Audition

[kultz]

Tuesday, Fall, 2012

I'm not a man, and I am not a god. Gods don't bleed, and men don’t shoot radiation. I am superhuman. I am above and beyond human. Yet here I am, serving the needs and whims of a nation of humans, whose needs, wants, and now ideologies, differ from mine. Long ago, as a man, I lived in a world that I agreed with. I lived among men whose views, opinions, and thoughts mirrored my own. Back then, I had no qualms about serving alongside these men, to fight with them, and when the time came, die with them. It came easy to me because I knew that I fought for a cause that I believed in, for a world that I wanted to live in, and for a future that we all can agree with.
All things change with time, shorelines shift, mountains move, and men, most of all, changes. Children grew up in the new world bought with the blood of their ancestors with no knowledge of the terrible things before. We old men did everything we could to keep it that way. We were already tainted with terrible things, what’s more blood on a pair of hands already caked with decades of slaughter? It was worth it, we told ourselves. We wanted to give our children a better world to live in, and we wanted our children to turn out better than us, in the belief that by sparing them of the horror of the past, they would grow up clean.
We were wrong.
The years passed, Nazis became Communists, and then became terrorists. We fought all of them back, and yet when we returned to our homes, we found that our own children have, in the absence the horrors from afar, created their own in substitution. Too late, we realized, that in sheltering the next generation, we have robbed them of experience. We have robbed them of the necessary knowledge of good and evil. As I get older, time appears to pass faster as well. Days turned into months, years turned into decades without me noticing. In the blink of an eye, I have gone from a fresh-faced boy dutifully signing up for the army, to a revered relic of the ancient past. Has it really been that long? Are these grown men that I work with now, who look like me, who talk like me, and who claim to think like me, truly the fresh faced, naive boys I met three decades ago? Or was it four? I have no idea anymore. Time has worn my memory down to a smooth, blurry slab. Everybody I meet is simply just another hazy figure, whose faces all look the same, and whose words are garbled like a badly tuned radio. I find myself unable to understand them. They see the world differently that I do. They have not fought for over a century, nor have they seen the horrors and burdens that I must bear every each day to protect them. These are misguided children, in the absence of their long dead parents, playing house. I have seen the truth behind the veil of the world, I have known the difference between right and wrong, I have personally lived in a world that was...better. I had believed that I still lived in the bright future that my comrades died for.
I was wrong.

[captaincommunism]

Spoiler for for the theme:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uQMiXEN-a4c&feature=related

Spoiler for once more, not for the faint of heart:

There was only fire and screaming in that hovel. I had blinding, burning pain on both my forearms. All I could hear was gunfire. I realized I had taken off my coat, and tried to smother the flames, but there was nothing I could do for her. All I see is blackened skin and bone where a person once was. Then everything went black.

I awoke while I was being carried. I just heard shouting and yelling. I see the burning wreck of a half-track, and a panzer. Gregovitch is carrying me. about halfway through the line of trenches, I blacked out again.

My sister was waiting for me on the apple tree in the park. “Vasiliy!” she yells. “Over here! Catch!” I caught an apple in my hands. I look down, and see my dad’s head. look up, and I see the tree burning with Masha in it. I look to my left, and see the grey coats of the SS marching through the streets of Stalingrad.  “What is going on?!” I say. I look to Masha, and she’s gone, replaced by that burned… thing. I realize what I had done. Then I feel burning all around. I feel like I’m dying. I see my Father frowning at me. “Father!” -- I reach out my hand. He throws a Molotov at me. “What did I--”

I woke up. I know what I did. I put Masha in front of me.

I was in a makeshift hospital on the opposite end of town. I had bandages all over my arms... my overcoat seemed to have helped. My burns weren't too bad, except on the back of my hands. but I could still fire a gun. I could still do what I needed to. I could still have revenge.

Gregovitch was beside me in a chair. "You're awake. Good." he said. "How much do you remember?"

I thought for a moment.
"Everything." I say. I do. I remember my failure. I remember the smell. I can still feel the pain.

He took a long puff from a cigar. "That is unfortunate. I won't begrudge you if you want to stop." he paused for a moment.
"I’m heading back out in the morning." he began. "I know you've been through something that nobody, especially not at your age, or hers... should go through. But... if socialism is to survive, if all Russia is to survive," he continued "you have the perfect mentality to do something important. I know of a program. Secret. There are men in the company I command, some portray that characteristic I was ordered to look for. You tried to save your sister. You did it in the face of not only an air attack, but an onslaught of German Armour. If you display that courage, that heroism once more, Vasiliy, I can tell you, you will become the New Soviet man."

"But how am I a hero, Mikhail?" I say. "My sister is dead. My father told me to take care of her. I said I would do all for my fellow Soviets. I... I cannot do anything right to save lives. Not my sister’s, and not my fathers. I put my sister in danger where I should have been. I… I am not smart, Mikhail. I am worthless. I cannot help anyone. I am as bad as those Kulaks years ago. My father is ashamed of me. I can see him there.” I pointed across the room. My father frowned.  “How would I make a New Soviet man? I am worse than the Old Tsarist Men. For the Good of the Soviet union, I must stop!”

“Vasiliy. You believe me when I tell you that work justifies the deed, that is, the means justify the ends. Not the other way around. You feel shame do you? Feel not shame. Feel Anger. The Germans have done this to a million other daughters of Russia. Every man who puts his life on the line to save those daughters is a hero. You did just that. You may have made a mistake. But you survive. You must do with that survival all you can to make Masha’s life have meaning. You must work to make that happen.”

“But… I put Masha in danger. She was in my arms, and I used her as a shield. How is this anything less than fascist ends justifying the means? I… cannot be a good man. I cannot be a Marxist man. I cannot be in Soviet society.” There masha goes between the beds. She’s running from something. My father stands up, and walks after her. “I am the worst of us. My Father despises me. He won‘t even listen”

“You think yourself unworthy of being the New Soviet man? Don’t. A New Soviet man is not born, he is made, and educated to be so. You believe that it is best to help each other. Then help your fellow Russians, by doing all you can. This is why you have value. This, is why you can be the New Soviet Man. But most of all, Remember this, Vasiliy:
You two were like my own children. I lost mine that night you lost your father. I will see you able to make me proud, or die trying. If your father sees you as worthless, then see me as your new father. You have value. Stalin needs you. All Russia needs you. You will do all you can. Blame not yourself for your failure. Blame the Nazis for ruining your life. Make Me proud. Prove to me you are no Kulak. Prove that, and you will be the New Soviet Man. Go beyond that, and you may well be the Best Soviet Man.”

I thought for a moment. I looked at my father. He turned towards me. His eyes are hopeful.
“If the work justifies the deed,” I start, “Then I will work hardest to finish the greatest deeds. If I can do anything… if I can honour my Father and my sister, then I will give everything to see the fascists pay. The heroism you say I might possess... if I can do anything in my power to use it, to all our ends, I will do it. If I am our means, then let our means be the noblest. If I am the New Soviet man, nothing less will suffice. Let me help all those who need help, Mikhail. Let me be the instrument of the annihilation of fascism. Let me make you proud, and let me make Stalin proud. But most of all, Let Me avenge the souls of all those crushed under the fascists’ jackboots! I will obliterate the very essence of fascism off the face of this Earth!"

Masha went through the door to the wing of the hospital I was in. My Father walked out after her, but before he exited, he turned and gave me a smile, and a salute. I heard Masha’s laughter. I heard their screams next. I will not let the Nazis win.

Gregovitch’s trimmed beard and moustache smiled. He stood up and put his coat on. "You have gone through great pain. You will go through more before this war is over. But you will not be alone Take a week of light work. Then come see me once more. You will go far.”

More than I knew.

[Cataphrak]

"LIGHT COMEDY!" as well as some actual light comedy.

Special Empowered Combatant Tactical Intelligence and Operations Network

>ARCHIVE
>VOICECHAT LOG
>TRANSCRIPTS
>MONDAY, OCTOBER 26TH, 2012 11:04 AM - 11:25 AM EST

MOST SECRET

Lord Arthur Tintagel (Service Number 523411176): Morning dad.

Uther Tintagel, First Baron Pendragon (Service Number 0713277861): Afternoon Arthur, anything the matter?

Arthur: You've heard about the incident last night?

Uther: Yes. I did. Well done that, cutting out of that energy bubble like that. Donalbain pulled the satellite footage from the Yanks in exchange for a few favours. You weren't hurt, were you?

Arthur: Not a scratch.

Uther: Good lad.

Arthur: I feel a "But regardless" coming along here dad.

Uther: *sigh* But regardless, that makeshift tin can you've been carrying into battle isn't doing the trick. I've seen the armour schematics you've sent me, and I think it'll do quite well indeed. I've taken the liberty of freeing up five thousand pounds from your trust fund and sending it to Blair Industries for the purpose of getting you some better gear.

Arthur: Dad! I said I would pay for the whole lot myself!

Uther: Consider it an early birthday present, or a second late one. *pause* The last thing I want is to hear that some american mobster put a round in my son's lung because his armour wasn't good enough on the bloody BBC. Your trust fund can be freed up in case of emergencies, and I'd say this qualifies.

Arthur: ... All right. Thanks dad.

Uther: Now, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?

Arthur: Well, I just had a rather disturbing conversation with Major Kovacs.

Uther: Eugene Kovacs? I'm not surprised, the man IS a maniac after all.

Arthur: No, not that kind of discussion. I was asking him about our encounters with the mob, and just how far we were supposed to go to stop them.

Uther: As far as you need to.

Arthur: That's pretty much what he said. Breaking all the rules to do it though: the law, honour, the King's regulations. Seemed to me a bit extreme.

Uther: It is a bit extreme. It is also necessary. Do you know why knights had a code of honour?

Arthur: Not really

Uther: So that they could proclaim that they were better than others, so that when they stepped on the necks of the common men, they could point to their code of honour and proclaim their actions justified, so that they could force their opponents to fight armed in the same way as them. Knights in armour didn't fight each other the way they did in the films, they hacked and tripped and grappled each other to the ground and used a stiletto to take the other man hostage or finish him with a blade through the eye.

Arthur: Then how are they heroes? How are WE heroes?

Uther: We aren't my lad. We're soldiers. Ever since Sir William Tintagel fought with Oliver Cromwell at Edgehill, we've been soldiers. Your first duty is to the King-Emperor, your second is to your comrades-at-arms and your third is to yourself. Nowhere is it written that you must submit to the moral judgment of anyone save your King and your God. The former has given us near total operational freedom and the latter, I've been told, is quite forgiving.

Arthur: I think I understand.

Uther: Follow what you've been taught and what you know. If your tutors, your mother and I have taught you well enough, then ordinary men and women will call you a hero if you follow your own judgment. If you feel the situation is desperate enough, make contingencies. If the hour is dire beyond reckoning, use those contingencies. You aren't a child anymore, I can't tell you what is right and what is wrong, everything you need to know from me, I've already taught you.

Arthur: All right. Thanks dad.

*stumbling and shuffling in the background*

Lady Morgan Tintagel: DAAAAAAD! Have you seen my mobile?

Uther: Have you checked in your pockets dear?

Morgan: No I- Oh! Here it is... Who's- Oh! Hey Arty.

Arthur: Hello sis.

Morgan: You still with that American?

Arthur: Yes, and she has a name you know.

Morgan: *sticks out her tongue* Has she found out how much of a boring fart you are yet?

Arthur: Well, judging by how fast your dates seem to catch on to what you're really like, I'd say she did about ten minutes into the first date.

Morgan: Wanker.

Arthur: Wanking, haven't had to do much of that recently.

Uther: Children! Language.

Both: Sorry dad.

Uther: Just as well, I should go. Morgan has a driving test in half an hour, which means I have to shop for a replacement motor in forty minutes.

Morgan: DAAAAAAD!

Arthur: All right. Try not to kill anyone Morgan, and send mum my love.

Morgan: Oh you-

Uther: I will. Remember: this is your first real set of operations without me there to help you. What you do over the next few months will decide your path for the rest of your life. Do not take it lightly.

Arthur: I'll remember.

Uther: Good luck, dear boy.

Arthur: Thank you dad. Goodbye.

CALL ENDS

[Jfan999]

Ok here's the wiki I promised everyone: http://smith.wikia.com/wiki/SMITH_Wiki
Feel free to add content.

[captaincommunism]

Spoiler for ???:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-TVk-RG8cw

Everything was nothing. Then something was everything. I felt a beat of a heart, almost. A deafening noise. I felt the spinning of the Chronosphere's gyro. I felt the wind generated by it. I saw the green glow of the energy. I saw the impossible room once more. I felt sick. Everything was spinning. And finally, everything slowly... stopped. I removed myself from the straps. I climbed out. The machine was peppered with bullets. Nothing worked anymore. It looks like those bastards broke it. I looked around for anything salvageable. I saw the green glow of the thorstoff. Still intact, the glass part of the containment unit was shattered, though. I put the pebble in my pocket, and felt the orders there as well. I opened them. I read past the administrative stuff for the commissar and the old man. Then I got to this part:

“You. You are the last soviet man. You are the Best Soviet Man. You are our salvation. The Chronosphere you have just stepped out of is the fruit of all our labour, all our science, and all our hope. The Commissar has entrusted you these orders that you might right our troubled course. The Chronosphere is not merely a time machine – it makes actual portals through time and space. It is thus your purpose to ensure Adolf Hitler's demise as early as is logically possible. He must not become the orator he became. He must not gain the influence that he has. He Must, in short, die. Preferably in 1921 before he can even begin to garner support. It was in 1923 that he failed a coup in the beer hall putsch. That putsch must not happen. That Putsch yielded lasting supporters. If you do anything, do it before that putsch. If our country is to be successful, then make sure that he is not. Save us all. Save us from the atrocities. Honour the October revolution. Honour all you have lost!”
Do Svidaniya.
Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin

I put the letter back in my pocket. I shook my head, still disoriented.  I looked around, the dim light of the thorstoff guiding my way, even through the pocket. There were no bodies. There was... nothing here. Nothing except for one light. I moved towards it. A single light next to the hatch. It looked like it had been abandoned for years, hermetically sealed. The lock was down, just as I had left it.

I opened it. I climbed up, and saw the cardboard box covering it. The room still seemed like it had been abandoned. I opened the door. It was locked from the inside. So I locked it again. Best that nobody know. I started moving up. Trying to remember my way through these corridors was difficult. Felt like everything was different. Eventually, I found some people in lab coats. I was still in akademgorok. Something went wrong.

“Who are you? What are you doing down here? Why don't you have a labcoat?” one of the labcoats says.
“I am Vasiliy Prokofiev. I am a soldier of the Red Army. I am a New Soviet Man.” I say.

“New soviet man?” he says, “How did you get in here? This is a restricted area. Only high-level physicists are allowed here. Come with me.”

He brought me to a security office on the ground floor. I see wires, electronic devices, things I have never known. I see the man he's talking to laugh, then look at me. I have a feeling he doesn't believe me.

“You are a man out of time” the guard starts. “Give me that.” -- he takes my dog tag. “It says here...” he reads off my registration number, date of enlistment, etc. “We'll run this number up. Wait here.”

I see many things in this office. Particularly magazines. I see the time. I'm in the future. Almost seventy years in the future. This is wrong. I should not be here. I start panicking. “I'm not supposed to be here!” I yell. “I am in the wrong place! I am in the wrong time!”
I start tearing the magazines apart. The guard walks in. He tries to restrain me. I toss him off like he's nothing, and keep on going. He pulls out his gun, black and yellow. I don't stop. I cannot stop. I start breaking everything, the glass windows of the security office, the table. I pause for a moment, and look towards him. I see fear. The security guard's had enough. The gun fires a pair of cables. I feel the sting of electricity. But it doesn't hurt. It should. The rest is just instinct. I drain him, and the scientist. But... this time I don't get stronger. This time, my powers aren't working the way they did. Both go down. I don't think I killed them. I take the guard's keys, and open the door.

I know of one place I can get answers. I head to the library. While I'm on the way, I stop to look at myself. I'm older. Everything about my body is different. I have a huge jaw line with broad shoulders. I look like some kind of fighter. Blond hair. Not bad. I fly over to the library.

There are others that can fly, or so it seems. Interesting, but no time for that. I need answers. I see a map of the complex. I head to the encyclopedia section. I read the articles. World War 2. Adolf Hitler. Joseph Stalin. The United States. The USSR. The Russian Federation. I am disgusted by all this. The only communist states left are China, Cuba, and Vietnam. Marx was wrong. Everything I knew was wrong. Again. What do I do now? ... it's late. I suppose I had better go.

I left the library with more questions than answers. Everything about that article on the second world war was wrong. Then I see something terrible. Nazis. Bald men with swastikas on their heads. They're Russian. I follow them for a while. They're marching towards some dormitories. I see them throwing Molotov cocktails at some of the dorms. One of them gets up on a soap box of sorts. He gives a speech, lambasting foreigners, that they were polluting Russian blood, and taking the jobs of Russians. The state provides jobs, you fascist Shlyuhi. Full employment. Or they did. I will change this. The fascists toss molotovs into a dormitory, I hear screams. They seem to put it out though.

He says that they would not suffer the foreigner to pollute their precious bodily fluids, and the state. Your state is not mine. My state is just. They bring an oriental woman up. I won't let them. One of them tears her shirt off. Then something snaps. That one is the first one who becomes a husk. A beam of red light bursts from my right hand to him, and then another blue one comes from my left. I give the Oriental woman the strength to fight back. Her muscles become as that of atlas. I see Masha start bludgeoning each and every one of them, many at a time. I drain the orator next. Masha becomes even stronger. We continue doing this, until most of them are either knocked out or near dead. I start seeing red. The fascists scatter. Then I see about ten men fly down. One of them restrains me.

“We are the Legion of Russian Superheroes.” one of them starts. He has a mask of black and a uniform of leather trimmed with red and gold. “I am Captain Ivan. You are not registered.” he says “I know all who are registered. I never forget.” As if answering my questions.

“That said” he continues. “You have done a good deed here. You might go far in our society... if.” he paused. “You do proper training.” an ambulance arrived to carry off the fascists. I see Masha run to her dorm. I raise my hand... but I am blocked by Ivan.

“Do not make us destroy you. If you want to talk, I suggest you talk now, and talk fast.” he puts his hand to my chest.

So I tell him my story.
*   *   *   *

We reconvened in a security office. “Do you wish to stay here, in Russia?” Captain Ivan asks.
“No. My place is not here, in a country which has become... something else. In a place where Nazis roam free. If I remain here, I may murder.”
“Then perhaps, we can find some place which might take you. I am afraid that, there is no place where you will be completely free of them, but... The United States has far less than here. I know your mentality. I was once in the red army. Let me... help you. Let me give you some things. Not much, but something for the journey. Comrades take care of their own.” I could tell he was smiling through his mask.

He gives me a large footlocker. I open it up and look through it. Bricks of bedding lay within it, grouped in fours, pictures of various socialist leaders, and at last, a hundred or so clocks of somebody named Mao Zedong. I seem to be able to read any language. Hadn't noticed that before. “So you'll look the part. This is part of the legacy that communism wills to you. The rest...” he looks at me. “Is there for you to discover.” I look at all this, and then look back to him.
“The Americans have a good university system. There is one in Springfield, Massachusetts. You might like it there, you might not. But you will learn what you need to. I will finance you myself.”

“Thank you, comrade.” I say.
“Just watch out for Kovacs.”
“Kovacs? Emperor and Theocrat of the United States?”
“Just instructor. You really don't know much about what's happened, do you.”
“I may have skimmed an article or two from that encyclopedia.”
“Learn. In time, you may be able to go back home. I wish you luck, comrade. Do Svidaniya.”
“Do Svidaniya, Captain.”

[Jfan999]

Ok everyone I'm getting things organized for next term and need to know who's planning to stay in the game and when they're available. Current plan is Wednesday or Friday, with the exact time to be determined.

Also if anyone is staying on residence in the fall it would be great if you could book us a room on residence to play in.

[greencloak]

I'm in, and I'm planning to play a new character as well. Either day works for me.

[captaincommunism]

I'm willing to keep on playing. I'll be up on campus on Tuesday and Friday, so those days are most convenient. I'll be continuing as Marxist Man, if that's alright.

[Cataphrak]

Friday works better for me, seeing as I have class next semester on Wednesday until 5:20.

[lifeline41]

If there is an opening I would really like to join in, both wednesday and friday works for me. also I will be in Res so I will see what I can do.

[Jfan999]

As much as I would like to let new people in at my current count we are already at least one player over my maximum.
As of right now priority for fall is:
1) any players in my current game (5 players)
2) any players transferring from Joey's game (2 players)
3) any new players who want to join (1 player)

[lifeline41]

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Fatso]

I'm definitely available on both Wednesday and Friday.

[kultz]

My vote's for Friday so I don't have to wake up at the crack of dawn the next day.

[kultz]

Aww damnit, why's Jesse logged in? Fine then, both of us are good for friday.

[Gaming]

Summer 2013:

View Calendar

There aren't any users online.