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Captain Marvel #34

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    [The Comex Plant, Los Angeles] The five vampires circled Phyla, hissing and snarling. Okay, let me remember, Phyla groaned, her injuries apparent in the
    Message 1 of 157 , Feb 3, 2005
      [The Comex Plant, Los Angeles]

      The five vampires circled Phyla, hissing and snarling. "Okay, let me
      remember," Phyla groaned, her injuries apparent in the pain-filled
      stance she took in defense, "stakes of wood and sunlight, right?"

      "We're standing between you an' any wood, darlin'," a heavyset
      vampire flashed his fangs, "as fer sunlight... it's several hours t'
      dawn."

      The female Captain Marvel smirked as her nega-bands began to glow,
      slowly increasing in intensity. "Good point..."

      Her silver bands flared, unleashing a wave of solar energy that had
      been stored since before sunset. Phyla closed her eyes so as not to
      blind herself. Everything in the room heated up several degrees as
      the ultraviolet radiation penetrated the vampires' skins, quickly
      drying them out.

      The vampires screamed as their skin peeled back, becoming ash as
      their organs erupted into flames. Phyla opened her eyes. She stood in
      between five piles of ash, her bands still smoking.

      "Impressive," the intercom voice reverberated, "and efficient; you
      didn't have to move a finger."

      "Who's next? Frankenstein's Monster?"

      "You leave me no choice but to violate our agreement..."

      "Huh?" Phyla asked before noticing the shambling corpse stumbling
      into the room. "You promised no zombies... ugh..."


      Half Kree. Half Titan. A bastard child, born in a laboratory. Some
      even say he's destined for greatness. Destined to become something
      above the photonic energy manipulating powerhouse he is right now. He
      is Genis-Vell. He is Captain Marvel.

      Captain Marvel #34
      "Explanations"

      ***********************
      Writer Supreme: JM
      Webmaster: Liam Gibbs
      Editor: Josh Greer
      Editor-in-Chief: Tawmis
      ***********************


      "The blue is on his way now."

      "The other four have awakened; they must be sent, as well. The
      Magistrate holds too much power for any one of them to kill
      individually."

      "Agreed."

      [Meanwhile]

      The Mighty Centurion snarled as he blasted his Plasma Shooter at the
      retreating Maggia men. Wimps.

      A large fist squeezed his trigger wrist, like a vise. The arm
      attached hurled the Centurion down the alley, dropping his Plasma
      Shooter on the way.

      Centurion saw his foe's face and immediately recognized him from all
      the descriptions. "Frost..."

      'Your personal vendetta must wait; your new master has need of you.'
      The Centurion's entire body went rigid upon the mental summons, and
      his eyes glowed red.

      Frost stomped towards him; the Centurion wouldn't reach his Plasma
      Shooter in time, and Frost was too strong to beat physically... 'the
      Plasma Shooter merely focuses the power now housed within you.
      Incapacitate him and leave, immediately.'

      The Mighty Centurion let forth a beam of scalding red energy from his
      eyes, blasting through Frost's trunk. The Centurion walked past the
      shattered criminal, his head watching the rookie stride by. He would
      not forget this.

      The Centurion scooped up his Plasma Shooter and continued on his way.

      [The Comex Plant]

      The undead heap of decayed flesh and bones swiped but was far too
      slow for Phyla, even with her injuries. Right now, all she wanted was
      some time to relax and heal. Though slow, the zombie proved too
      persistent to allow it to her.

      A shattering like that of glass rang out from a nearby room. Another
      trespasser, like Phyla, or looking to steal a few things for a quick
      buck? The answer came as a man in a black and yellow costume saw the
      lurching zombie and rushed forward.

      Most of the costume was black, with yellow boots, cape, belt, and
      chest insignia; a yellow circle... "Who're you? Sun Boy?"

      "Moon Man," the man replied, leaping feet first into the zombie's
      face, snapping free his jaw, "it's a full moon, not the sun. Common
      misconception."

      "Uh-huh," Phyla leaned against the wall, taking her well-earned
      breather whilst the newcomer hurled himself haphazardly into
      battle, "and you're here because...?"

      "I'm investigating some supernatural connections to the Comex
      Corporation," the Moon Man revealed as he twisted the zombie's head
      off, letting it drop carelessly to the ground. Moon Man ducked as the
      decapitated zombie swung out an arm for him. "I assumed you were here
      for similar reasons, and found this undead thing guarding the place?"

      "Werewolf, first. Then vampires, then this one, yes. I'm
      investigating because they're selling super powers to anyone who
      passes their home study course."

      "I didn't realize that was illegal," the Moon Man kicked through the
      area between the zombie's legs, chiseling away a little of him.

      "I... don't know that it is," Phyla admitted, "but it's certainly
      dangerous. And they're selling it to minors without parental consent.
      I'm sure that's illegal... somewhere..."

      "Well, let's find out what their true goal is," Moon Man
      suggested, "unless you prefer the solo act?"

      "Help is definitely appreciated, at this point. Supernatural shtick
      isn't really my... thing."

      "So what is," Moon Man asked, tearing away an arm, "your thing?"

      "Well... ordinary stuff. Alien invaders, radioactive villains,
      international terror organizations..."

      "Always good stuff," Moon Man smiled as he slapped the zombie with
      his own arm, "to beat, I mean."

      "Yeah. You need a... hand with him?"

      "Not really," Moon Man stepped back as the zombie nearly
      toppled, "but it'd help things get moving along faster."

      Phyla hurled a ball of energy at the zombie, scorching through his
      body. The zombie fell over, smoking.

      "I like it," Moon Man smiled, "nice work. Ready to play detectives?"

      [Meanwhile]

      The Sub-tyrant and the Mighty Centurion stood in a darkened alley,
      staring at each other. The other three each came within minutes.

      "I have been chosen to lead our mission," the Centurion
      declared, "along with my plasmic blasts, I have a radar sense."

      The Centurion directed his allies' attention to the Sub-tyrant. "I'm
      the avaricious Sub-tyrant. Light generation and control, super-
      strength, sub-thorns."

      The next member was a woman clad entirely in shadow, save the
      crackling green energy emanating from her eyes and ring. "Wild
      Slayer. Danger sense. Dark generation. Dark control."

      The next, a beefy man with spectacles, messy brown hair, and four
      arms, smiled, "Call me the mighty Element Weirdo. I can grow extra
      appendages. At will."

      The fifth and final persona appeared as an eclectic blend of
      traditionally male and female attire and physical
      characteristics. "We are known as the battling Mother Lad... We
      control chemicals..." The Mother Lad stroked its Lad Scythe, white
      electricity licking out from it.

      "Everyone already has been informed of the mission," Centurion
      reassured, "correct?"

      "We will kill the Magistrate," Sub-tyrant nodded, "Yes, we all know."

      "Good. Here's how we'll do it..."

      [The Comex plant...]

      Moon Man and Phyla scoured the company's files, hoping to find
      something soon that would give them vital data regarding their foes.

      "Stop that," the intercom voice boomed, "at once!"

      "I recognize that voice," the Moon Man spoke to himself, "from the
      others' memories... oh, snap."

      "You know what we're dealing with now?"

      "Yeah. Yeah. It couldn't've been so simple as a vampire cult or
      werewolf clan, could it?"

      "So. What are we dealing with, then?"

      "Imprisoned gods. I can't imagine they're happy campers after all
      this time."

      "But they're impr--"

      "You said they were granting powers to children? Like... maybe
      children with high levels of susceptibility?"

      "Maybe, why?"

      "They're going to have the kids kill their jailer and run rampant on
      this world. Trust me, it won't be pretty."

      "Oh... snap."

      "Indeed."

      [To be continued...]
    • altmarvel-release-owner@yahoogroups.com
      Reno, Nevada. On the street after dark, Marlo Jones screamed as the paramedics rushed to strap Rick Jones into his gurney and put him into the back of the
      Message 157 of 157 , May 7, 2010
        Reno, Nevada.

        On the street after dark, Marlo Jones screamed as the paramedics rushed to strap Rick Jones into his gurney and put him into the back of the ambulance. He had been torn wide open by the Slashers. (1)

        Her thoughts swam, incoherently, as she covered her face with her hands and kept watching him, hoping that somehow he would instantaneously recover as though there was nothing wrong, no gaping wounds in his abdomen.

        She went with them to the hospital, not listening to a single word anyone said. Rick remained unconscious, mumbling occasionally, meaningless phrases.

        Finally, they arrived at the hospital, and Marlo had to wait. Rick was rushed into an operating room and that was that.

        While she sat there, helpless, the Magistrate watched, invisible, the light bending around his body effortlessly. He derived no joy in being here, but it was his duty. Not only because this man had been his father's partner in defending the universe, once upon a time, but because it was necessary in his role as the Magistrate for him to be here today.

        This was the day that Rick Jones was to die.

        The Magistrate entered the operating room and froze time. The doctors and nurses stood stuck in place, Rick stuck between feeble heart beats, near the end of his song.

        Shining with bright light, Genis-Vell gently, quietly removed his golden nega-bands from his wrists, one at a time. He clasped them onto the dying sidekick's wrists, clicking them into place and soldering them, melding them to his genetic sequence.

        They were bonded to him now, as they had been before.

        The photonic energy illuminated the entire room as the bands changed Rick as much as he changed them, charging his body with an energy that would add to his natural physical healing properties just enough for him to make it through.

        He would live, and the timestream was forever altered, irrevocably, in that moment. Genis hoped his father would have approved and would not have condemned him for his foolish act.

        In saving Rick Jones's life, he had also damned him.


        Half Kree. Half Titan. A bastard child, born in a laboratory. Some even say he's destined for greatness. Destined to become something above the photonic energy manipulating powerhouse he is right now. He is Genis-Vell. He is Captain Marvel.

        Captain Marvel #88
        "The Sentence"
        April 2010
        *************************
        Writer: John Flint
        Webmaster: Liam Gibbs
        *************************


        "Betty!"

        "I came as soon as I could," Betty Banner said, hugging Marlo in the waiting room, "how is he?"

        "They haven't told me anything yet," Marlo said.

        "He will pull through," the Magistrate said, revealing his presence to them, blinding them with his white light which emanated from every cell of his body. It masked him, so that they would not know he was Genis-Vell, the former Captain Marvel.

        "Ah no, not again," Marlo said, "more cosmic confusion, please, just leave us alone…"

        "Richard Millhouse Jones would not survive if I had not interfered," the Magistrate revealed, "I apologize for my intrusion into your personal lives, but I found it necessary this once. I am the Magistrate.

        "Your husband will be healed through the molecular process of bonding to the nega-bands; in return, he will heal the mind and soul of another who is quite ill."

        "Who is that?"

        "Genis-Vell," the Magistrate said, not bothering to explain that the other body the bands were bonded to was an alternate reality version of himself who went by the codename of Captain Photon and whom he had driven crazy with insane visions provided by Entropy. (2) "He is also bonded to the bands."

        "Oh no," Marlo said, covering her face in her hand, "Rick told me about this…"

        "You're going to punish him for being stabbed open by some super-villains?" Betty said, indignant, poking her finger into the blindingly bright man's chest, "I'm going to tell you what you're going to do, you're going to—"

        "I appreciate your concern," the Magistrate said, "but it has been done. It cannot be undone."

        "I'll find some way to undo it," Betty said, "then I'll sic my husband on you."

        The Magistrate disappeared in a final flash of light, having run out of words to say to the women.

        [The next morning.]

        `Morning, sunshine. Ready to eat some eyeballs?'

        "Huh?" Rick awoke with a start, and realized immediately he was not in his bed. Before freaking out, he accessed the situation, as Captain America had taught him to do. He realized he was in a hospital room and breathed a sigh of relief as he felt at the blanket covering him.

        `Clap those wrists together and let's have some fun…'

        Rick saw horrifying images in his mind and slammed his eyes shut. The room was still dark and yet the images were as though they were there, right before his eyes, vivid.

        Marlo snored.

        "Mar," Rick said, getting out of the bed and shaking her awake.

        "Whuzzat?"

        He went to the door and eventually found the light switch. "What's going on, hon?"

        He looked down at his hands and saw the shining nega-bands on his wrists. "Aw, no!"

        `That's right, sugarplum. It's just you and me in here. Let me out and I'll tear your woman apart and let you watch. There's nothing I won't do when I get back into your world…'

        "Then I'll never let you out, monster," Rick promised.

        [One week later.]

        "Please, help him," Marlo said, "he hasn't shaved, showered, he hasn't slept, his wounds aren't healing right, I don't know what to do…"

        "I'll have a look at him," Doc Samson promised as Marlo closed the door behind him. "Mind if I have a private session with him?"

        "Of course, go ahead," Marlo said, "I'll see if the tea is ready…"

        Doc Samson stepped into the bedroom. He was now no longer superhuman, his long ponytail brown, his frame chunky rather than beefy. He wore a suit and glasses.

        The man he saw before him he hardly recognized as Rick Jones. The man was in his underclothes, stank, and had tied his hands to ropes leading to opposite ends of the room, one tied to the filing cabinet in the corner and the other to his desk.

        "Cut it off cut it off cut it off," Rick begged the doctor, "cut off one of my hands either of them then he can't use me can't make me bang them together can't make me bring him back"

        "I won't do that," Doc Samson said, "Marlo told me about your situation. I understand he constantly bombards you with violent imagery, mostly of what he'll do to your wife and friends if he trades places with you. But you know that won't happen, don't you?"

        "Do you do you do you?" Rick said, panting, sweating, eyes shifting wildly about the room before coming back to Samson and laughing. "You aren't even green anymore! Bruce is dead dead and gone and he thought I'd be strong enough to heal him but I'm not he's too strong constant almost clapped my hands together the first night home almost brought him here almost killed Marlo almost killed everyone killed the world"

        "I'm going to give you a tranquilizer, Rick," Doc Samson said, "it'll calm you down and let you get some sleep. I promise, I will see to it that he never sets foot in this world. Whatever it takes. As soon as I leave this room, I'm calling in the Avengers."

        "Avengers Defenders Champions X-Men doesn't matter doesn't matter," Rick said and began to laugh again, madly. "We're already dead."

        [To be continued…]


        FOOTNOTES:
        1. See issue #82.
        2. See Daniel Gordon Presents #77.
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