Welcome!
The Marvel Universe Roleplay is an adventure for those who would like to RP canon characters, and don't mind an environment that ranges from casual to serious.
We are a private RP group.
(We are in no way officially affiliated with the Marvel.)
Thank you all for your your writing, your creativity, and your time. At this point, MarvelU is officially closed. Please feel free to continue playing with each other, add new characters, and stay in contact.
We admins have been noticing a large amount of inactivity recently, barring a few people. And while we know that a lot of people have their reasons, we think we need to try and fix a few things around here to get the people who are online more regularly a little more motivated.
So we've decided to amend the rule against outside interactions. The most important thing we feel, is not having multiples of characters affecting things. So, as long as it is not with a character we have within the group, outside interactions are now allowed.
We hope that this will give everyone a little more freedom to interact and get this group back on its feet again. We've been through a lot and I would truly love to see a little more activity around here.
For the full information on this, or any other rule, please visit the rules page.
Characters who have not posted in over a month have been put on Hiatus. Please note, your character will be up for grabs again in the following weeks if no attempt to contact this game has been made. It isn't fair to hold on to a character and then never play and not contact anyone to let us know you'll be gone for an extended time.
This isn't to be mean, but it's hard to keep activity up if there's only a few active people. Obviously, there are those who have contacted the admins (Remy, Bruce Banner, Reed Richards, etc.) to let us know that they're on hiatus. It's understandable real life always, always comes first. But we do need to know; psychic powers are not a side effect of this game.
Basically: please let us know what's going on, it's all we ask.
Now with three robots down, and only three left, thing would probably go easier. Or so thought Nate. Counter-attacking only was a good strategy at first, when he had dozens of projectiles coming his way, but sooner or later he would get tired, different from those robots. So now, the best thing Nate could do was attack. And, let's the honest, it is what Nate do best. Or was.
First, a direct hit on the closest robot gave him enough time to jump over it, while dodging attacks from the other two. Shielded for a few second, he continued his attack, with a sequence of kicks and punches. One more down, two to go.
Nate grabbed the disabled robot and threw it at one of the the others. But to his surprise, there was an explosion. The force of the blast pushed him back, made him lost balance. He wondered if he had been lucky, and destroyed the attacking robot in that one hit. The smoke was still thick, but he had no time to wait and see. The remaining robot chased him, fired at him, tried to grab him. It was easier to dodge only one attacker. But his head was still buzzing from the explosion. It delayed his senses long enough for one metallic arm to reach and grab him. No, he wasn't lucky. Actually, he hasn't been lucky for quite a while now.
The robot, which wasn't disabled at the explosion, shoved Nate to the floor, and then threw him at the wall. He landed on his back and quickly got up. His vision beginning to blur. He saw only one robot, and dash to him. It wasn't smart to stand in one place for too long. He hit the robot, but before he could continue, he felt the cold metal on his back, and metal hooks took both his arms. Made him knee. Once again he was thrown aside, but before he could hit the wall, his powers kicked in long enough for him not to break an arm, or even his back. He was going to get up, but the robots vanished, as well as the 'broken city scenario'. Someone had ended the training session.
It was always travelling, always moving, never stopping. Jean-Paul had always been that way; then again he'd never really had a place to call home. First it was the street, then the circus in France, and it continued as such, Québecois separatist groups, Olympic skiing, not even his writing career had lasted him very long, but what could you expect from someone who could run at 186, 272 miles per second? He had been a part of so many things, and there were so many more things to do. On occasion he would simply wonder why he had yet to stop, and just pick what he wanted to do. Maybe it was because no matter what, there would always be people with stones to throw. People who would use his differences against him.
Jean-Paul’s current travelling escapade had landed him in New York, a city he was fairly familiar with. Wandering the streets he began to have another case of ‘what next?’. Go home? But where was home? Visit his sister? But did she even want to see him? More traveling? But where would that land him? He had been told countless times he was welcome in the X-Mansion, perhaps it was time to head back?
Miles swung through the skyline of New York City. The air was crisp and the view was incredible. I never get used to this, Miles thought. It was extraordinary to him that after 3 years, he still could be surprised by the beauty of the city at his angle.
Remembering his reason for swinging around, Miles' guard went back up. He spotted the thugs down below holding up the bank. He swung down to the level of the arched doorway and clung to the surface. Using his camouflage abilities, Miles hid right above the heads of the villains.
"Put the money in the bag punk!" A larger, beefy criminal said.
"Let's not be so hasty, fellas," exclaimed Miles coming out of the dark. "maybe we can talk about this. How about a one-on-one?" Miles readied himself for an attack, his spider-senses already tingling.
"Spider-Man!" Yelled the apparent leader of this band of crooks. "Get 'em!" he yelled, prompting the other thugs to attack. Two came at Miles, but he evaded with a swift jump. He shot a line of web tying the two together. "I would stay and chat," Miles taunted "but I see you two are tied up at the moment. Get it? Tied up? Tough crowd" he sighed.
Another foe came for him, but Miles slung a web blast right at his face. "Well that covers you" Miles joked.
The leader tried to escape, but Miles pulled him back and exclaimed "Aww, don't go, we were having so much fun." The man struggled, but Miles wouldn't let him go. "You sit tight, boys, the police will be getting you in a nice comfy truck shortly." With that, Miles was off, swinging through the skyline once more.
The streets was where she felt the most at home. And why shouldn't she? She had walked them so often as a private detective, or glided along them, in pursuit of one villain or another. She could feel at home in the dark, in the shadows. It was more normal for Jessica.
There were less people in the dark. Everyone was off doing something, be it spending time at a party or simply curled up at home with a lover. It was in the depopulated spaces where she felt as if she could be accepted. For Jessica Drew had never gotten on with people. Her earliest experiences with them were all negative -- after Wundagore, everything had gone so far downhill.
She wasn't normal. She would never be normal. For how could one infused with spider DNA ever be what the public classified as 'normal'? Even amongst the superhero community… it wasn't enough that she wore a costume. Outside of it… she could feel the looks she received. The hateful glances. The uncomfortable stares. And the whispered comments only made things worse. She'd simply cast her eyes down and push onwards, but they were always there, no matter how she tried to ignore them, to push them away. It was the pheromones. Those goddamn pheromones. They inspired fear, hate… and in men, lust. None of the attention was the kind she desired, particularly, and it kept the people away. For the most part.
She was different. She wasn't like Captain America or Tony Stark. And yet… they'd asked her to join the Avengers. Clearly they wanted her on the team. But she didn't quite feel as if she deserved the spot. Why her? What had she done that was so special, save for managing to be mistrusted by the general public? She'd said yes, though. Something had pushed her to do so. Something had urged her to take the chance to prove herself. So she'd left her job as a private eye and joined the team.
The tower wasn't home, though. The streets still felt nicer, more comfortable. Jessica Drew wasn't terribly used to working with others, working as part of a team. Most people ended up leaving her -- or vice versa. Nothing lasted. And there was HYDRA. Why would they trust one who was trained to be a terrorist weapon? One who, years ago, made an attempt on Nick Fury's life? HYDRA wanted her back. They still considered her their property.
Jessica shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She wasn't going to be able to prove herself if she kept thinking like that. It was only going to make things more difficult. Besides, the streets were calling to her. There were things to do, tasks at hand. Someone had to play the role of the Dark Angel, after all. With that in mind, she pushed herself from the wall, her hold on it breaking, gliding towards the ground below.
It was time for Spider-Woman to gain the trust of those she was working with.
Fingering the strings, Amelia drew her bow across the cello a few times, producing sweet, beatiful notes. Or at least to anyone else's ears, they would have been. Amelia, however, huffed and twisted one of the tuning pegs the barest fraction, before running her bow along the strings again. No, it still sounded slightly out of tune to her sensitive hearing, so she fiddled with another of the pegs, then repeated this process numerous times until she was satisified with the sounds produced by the instrument.
"Atta girl," she said softly as she began playing one of her favorite pieces. Her hearing made her a perfectionist when it came to tuning the instrument and when she played, even the slightest bum note, aggrivated her. It was this perfectionism that made her such a well-known cellist, and allowed her to live the life she had become accustomed to.
Still, she was growing a little bored of LA and the west coast in general. She'd been pretty much everywhere this side of the country and wanted to make a change for a while. Playing often helped he clear her head, since she could focus on the notes and block out all of the other sounds around her. New York. She could visit Phil and nose in on the Avengers. And wasn't there that mutant school just outside the city too? Yes, she decided, getting lost in the music, first thing tomorrow, she would start looking for a place to live over there. And with her talent, she'd be a shoo-in for any orchestra there. Or maybe she'd try going solo for a while. She'd yet to find an orchestra that lived up to her talent and expectations.
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