She was seen at the "History of New Orleans in Photographs" exhibit, dressed fashionably, but not enough to stand out. The next time she was seen, was on a parking garage a block away. There, Alisa was getting in her car and driving off. And the last time she was seen, was parking her car near a bank. From there, a van could be seen trailing her... and that was the last sighting of Alisa LeBeau.

She never made it to her next destination, which was her current girlfriend's apartment. She also never showed up to Alistaire's penthouse for tea with Reiko, or a meeting at the MET, to see if burnt bridges could be rebuilt, again.

So... where was Alisa LeBeau?
"You treat de symptoms before you find de actual cause. Guess it's jus' my luck." Alisa muttered to herself. After everything that had gone on in her life, the crazy ups and downs, the quick emotions that overtook her, the in able to not say things that should not be said... the young woman decided it was time for a second opinion. And now, well, things made sense.

She was not a total bitch or a moron, she had brain damage before she took that bullet to her skull. Probably from the explosion she was in with Alistaire Shaw, but it could have been a number of things. Enforcers can take a lot of blows to the head, after-all.

This entire time, everyone assumed her powers going bonkers were the cause of her odd behavior. Behavior that drove away friends, family, and destroyed relationships with a blast of napalm. So her powers and emotions were being treated. Not her brain.

Now that she was in the RIGHT hands, she was getting proper treatment. Medicine to help with headaches, her neuro implants calibrated to help combat the damage and prevent her from doing... everything she had been doing for over the past six months.

She had yet to tell anyone about this, as it was a private matter. Besides, how do you explain to all the people you hurt that it was completely involuntary? No one would believe it, and it was best to leave it alone. Instead, she took some leave from working with Alistaire and Reiko. She also took time off from working as a mercenary.

For now, she was by a statue of "Alice in Wonderland" at Central Park. Sketching away and doing her best to not stand out in the crowd. It felt good to be at some peace, and to not be the center of attention. No, the center of Chaos.
A Lifetime Ago

Sebastian Shaw was dead. It was over. It was... it was finally over.

It was time.

The dust hadn't even had time to settle before Alistaire invoked his authority as the Black King and called the Inner Circle to order. Once everyone was assembled and the usual formalities were out of the way, the Black King snapped his fingers and a Pawn brought an item draped in cloth to the center of the floor, before being dismissed.

"Lady Selene, esteemed others.. this is the end." He drew back the cloth, revealing a stark black filing box and a steel drum. "My time as the Black King, as any member of this organization is complete. I am departing peacefully, and taking nothing from your ranks or your resources for myself." He laid a hand across the lid of the box. "This was my previous way out. My... means of mutually assured destruction. Meticulous files, really. Compiled by the very best."

Another glance around the room, with eye contact in all the right places, before he let out a breath. He produced one of his favorite blades with a flick of the wrist, and smoothly cut open the box. He upended the contents into the drum, giving the exterior of the box a firm tap against the rim, before dropping it in as well. He reached into his pocket and swapped the blade for a lighter. He ignited it, then dropped it into the drum. He watched as it took a moment for the contents to ignite. The smell of burning paper, tinged with a hint of metal and plastic from clips and discs and thumb drives, wafted through the room.

Alistaire let the white noise of the fire and the furtive murmurs of the Inner Circle hang in the air for a long moment. "But I think I like this better." He signaled for the Pawn again, and the drum, still burning, was wheeled out. No sense leaving any scraps to be investigated. There were instructions to add accelerant and repeat as many times as necessary. Resurrection was too common a theme in his family to allow the information the same opportunity. "I can't honestly say I wish you all the best, but I can leave one piece of gentle advice. Something I read somewhere or other...

"'There will always be fools who believe that if a man dislikes violence and goes to great lengths to avoid it, it is a sign of weakness and vulnerability.'

"Goodbye."

Six weeks and three days ago

The courtship had been particularly public, and suitably extravagant. The wedding had everyone who mattered invited, and everyone who could be found on such 'short' notice showed up.

At the end of the day, there was a Mrs Reiko Shaw.

Six weeks ago

"I just need to cut out a few last cancers... I'm changing things going forward." He kissed his wife on the forehead. "Let me do this, and keep you out of it. I'll be back as soon as I can. If anything happens, go to my aunt."

Five weeks and one day ago

"Breaking News: Efforts were mobilized by the US Coast Guard in cooperation with neighboring national authorities today, in a search for wealthy socialite Alistaire Shaw. Shaw's ship is believed to have been destroyed in an unexpected storm while at sea. Although trace wreckage has been found so far, there has been no indication of the crew or any passengers' fate--"

Now

"Hello, Mrs Shaw? Your husband has been found. We were instructed to contact you, along with his aunt, to inform you that he's left against medical advice, and being transported directly back to Manhattan by private security. He should be arriving at your primary residence with an armed security and medical escort within the next few hours."
"It's good to see you made it through the storm, Ms. Burton. We were concerned you wouldn't make it back."

"Thank you for the concern, Wallace. It's been pure bedlam out there," Millicent spoke to the hotel receptionist. Ingrid Burton was the alias Millicent was using while in the States. "Has my roommate checked in?"

"She has, Ms. Burton> Should I let her know you've arrived?"

"Thank you, but no. She knows I'm on the way."

The receptionist nods and hands her her copy of the key to the apartment that she shared with Adrienne. She promptly took the elevator up to the top floor, making her way over to their suite. She gave aknock on the door.

"Louisa? It's Ingrid." She called Adrienne by her assumed name.
The Godstorm came at New York City, gathering other storms nearby to it. It wanted power Thor's little hammer couldn't easily undo. The Godstorm had underestimated the god once. If he showed up again, he would be ready. His reach was expansive. All along the Atlantic Coast, they felt his raging wrath. Even glancing touches from his circulating clouds brought damage.

There was warning he was coming, but Godstorm cared not one whit. He want right toward the harbor, using its funneling effect and the high tides from the moon to shove torrents of water into the megalopolis. He pushed on shore, making his way inland.

He was looking for something. Not that the small people trying to survive the hurricane coming ashore knew that. Their survival was not even a concern. He just pushed on land and spread his reach. He pushed his storm inland and the requisite flooding came with it. The winds howled and shards of glass broke off skyscrapers and added sharp damage to the mayhem.
It did not take long for Alisa to suddenly be told she was out of a job as a bartender. Not much longer after that, she discovered it was impossible to gain any employment within the city. Hell, even some of her contacts were turning their backs on her. While one would assume she would be stomping her feet and becoming a violent maniac, the opposite happened.

Alisa became more controlled. She was quiet, professional in her dealings as Alistaire's bodyguard and personal driver. She even dressed properly for work (with exception to her mask that hooked into her neuro implants).

It was very unusual to see her so quiet, respectful, and not flying off the rails. It was enough even to shock Reiko and Alistaire. But nothing was said about it, yet.

Instead, Alisa was driving the two to some outing they had planned. She did not ask to come along, and merely acted as a driver and nothing more. A katana was at her side, God forbid if someone planned to attack Reiko or Alistaire.
After completely her next task for the Reavers, Alisa got bored with waiting around for more work. Yes, Alistaire gave her some jobs to do here and there, but it was never anything to really keep her busy. Unable to find any work in Manhattan, she managed to find a bar-tending job at a seedy strip club in Hell's Kitchen.

As far as I am concerned, work is work. She kept telling herself. While the crowd was rowdy, rude, and somewhat crude, they kept her busy. Exactly what she wanted.

Now that her shift was over and the bar was closing down for the night, something came across her mind. She had tried and failed to get Coulson to respond to her while she was in prison. Perhaps now he would finally talk to her so they could sort things out. She took out her cellphone and dialed his number, hoping he would pick up at two in the morning (since she knew he could be a bit of a night owl).

C'mon, pick up...
Alisa had been released from Prison rather quickly, and then given work by the Reavers just as fast. After one Merc job, she was allowed to go off on her own, until needed again. Her cybernetic implants had been calibrated and she felt like her old self, again. What better way to relax and celebrate all of this, than going to Alistaire's Beach house and crashing for a few days.

She rode up to the Beach house on a newly purchased Harley Davidson. The smell of the salt air was refreshing, and the house itself was pretty nice. After kicking down the kickstand and dismounting, she grabbed a saddle bag off the side of the bike and made her way to the door.

Knowing it would be locked, she carefully put down her bag and reached into her jeans pocket for a set of lock picks.

" May not have liked the old man, much... but at least he taught me well." She grinned, easily unlocking the door, then carrying her bag inside. With the same ease, she slipped off her boots, and began to make her way inside.

"Hope Alistaire don' mind."
Twenty three hours...

She spent twenty three hours in a small, isolated cell in SHIELD custody. At first, it felt like those four walls were closing in on her. But it was not the four walls, it was herself.

How many people did she drive away? How much chaos did she bring? All for what? Friendship? So that if she died, she would be mourned? It was all pathetic, and she had to own it. All of it.

No one caused her to end up here, but herself. She did this, she created the chaos, she created a stupid false persona to try and "fit in", and now she destroyed everything around her. All that was left was to try and pick up what little pieces she could and move on.

No longer did she speak nervously or come off as timid as when she first arrived. And no longer would she allow other inmates to "punish" her for her actions. She has been punished enough. Now it was time to defend herself. No one was ever going to lay a hand on her, again.

Twenty three hours would be spent reading or exercising in her cell when she was awake. It kept her from going insane like some of the other inmates, and allowed her to get some strength back. Granted, she could still fight without her powers and quite well. But she needed an edge, and becoming more muscular and stronger helped with that.

Soon enough, twenty three hours was up, and her cell door opened. One hour with the general population now started. One hour that she had to fight to survive, and show she was not going to just it anymore. Wiping the back of her hand over the scar on her face, Alisa walked out of her cell, more confident than when she first walked in.
The Vault was not the happiest place on Earth. The inmates hated Alisa LeBeau with a passion. Either they knew her brother, or word got out on what she had done. Either way, that one hour out of her cell was like a nightmare. There was always a fight, and since she had no motivation to fight back, she usually ended up in the prison infirmary.
Read more... )
After the chaos Alisa caused, SHIELD had her sent away to "The Vault", a prison for super human villains in Colorado. Already, she had not done well while in custody. Her powers were currently being suppressed, but word about her quickly spread. She had to be sent to the infirmary six times within her first week at the Vault. Not because she started fights, but because other prisoners wanted to fight her.

If the inmates were not bad enough, some of the guards were worse. It was clear that without all that anger, rage, and hate flowing through her from her powers... she was weak and vulnerable. Alisa LeBeau was not cut for High Society, much less prison. God, she hated when Brooke was right about things.

Read more... )
Alisa was not surprised that her picture was leaked to the media. Not surprised there was now a manhunt out for her. And totally not surprised that her job at the MET distanced themselves from her, and promptly fired her. Good. She hated her job, she hated all of it, she hated everything and everyone now.

Thankfully, no one linked her to Alistaire Shaw (publicly at least), and she left Steve Coulson with enough evidence to arrest her. If anyone was going to do that, it would be him. For now, she stuck to alleyways and the rooftops. She could feel the anger coming from the city... The police were mad she had taken out four officers, people were mad a mutant freak was running about, and she... loved it.

It was almost like a dance with how she moved. Swift, graceful, and damn near unstoppable. Why did she not just let herself go years ago? Why did she hold on to those useless emotions and desire for love and friendship. Creating utter chaos was just so much more fun!
The Devil's Island was one of the best, hidden clubs in the underworld. It was whispered that if you wanted it, you could find it there. And Alisa LeBeau just wanted to lose herself after having to deal with some hard truths from an ex-boyfriend. She did not tell Steve where she was going, or even Alistaire. This was a place she had to go to by herself.

Dressed in her work clothes (her typical white men's shirt, tie, pin striped vest with matching mini skirt, and her chess piece high heel stilettos), Alisa sat at the bar, hoping they had some moonshine or anything she could use to lose herself for a short bit of time.

"God, you would think they would have installed a fighting pit by now." She murmured to herself, downing the Russian vodka she had been given. "Hey! I asked for Moonshine!"
"There you go, officers," Ryan landed down in front of the Timely Bank and Trust, the two would-be bank-robbers encased in hard-to-break coils of cosmic energy. He'd been there to grab some cash for a haircut when the two dunderheads had decided to try and rob the place.

Seriously, who even robs banks in New York anymore? Between all of the various superhero groups - and they were on their third generation of heroes now, really - it was one of the stupidest things to do.

"Thank you...Lucent Lad?" The officer looked up at Ryan, raising an eyebrow.

"Stellar, actually," Ryan replied with a grin. It was designed to hold back a grimace."Lucent Lad was too...dorky." That had been the name he'd chosen for himself back when he and his brother Jacob had first moved back to New York and...no. He'd changed the codename soon thereafter. Sadly, though, some people still remembered it. "Anyway, though! Money's back in the safe. They're all checking to make sure things balance. I gotta jet but, you know. You might wanna tell these knuckleheads that robbing banks in New York is so eighteen-hundreds."

With a wave, he flew back up into the air, relishing the feel of the rushing wind against his face. When he was high enough, he turned away from midtown and headed towards his stylists' place, lost in thought.

A lot had happened in the last couple of weeks, it felt like. Remi and Alexa had given birth to their baby. The Pier had been attacked by a group of villains. He'd had some auditions that had gone really well, and others that had gone less so. (But he was doing a small thing off-Broadway, so that was nice.)

He sometimes wondered what it'd be like to settle down and start a family of his own but, realistically, he was far from ready for that. There was so much he still had to do, so much he still had to experience. So much growing he still had left to do. It worked for people like Remi and Alexa, but for people like Ryan...

Not yet.

He landed in front of his stylist's realized he still had an hour to kill before he went in.

Heh. Oops. He flew over the street and landed in front of the coffee shop that was directly opposite the salon. Coffee and a muffin couldn't hurt...
Being a SHIELD agent in a relationship with someone with known criminal ties? Awkward.

Being a SHIELD agent engaged to someone with known criminal ties? Very awkward.

Being a SHIELD agent engaged to someone with known criminal ties and effectively being blackmailed for it? Very high awkwardness levels approaching.

Being a SHIELD agent engaged to someone with known criminal ties, effectively being blackmailed for it and actually liking the gal? Weird, hot, and STILL very awkward.

Being a SHIELD agent engaged to someone with known criminal ties, effectively being blackmailed for it, actually liking the gal, and wishing to let the family know there's at least a relationship going? This was the pinnacle of weirdness that Steve Coulson found himself in. How in the blue hell was he going to bring this up to his twin sister, let alone his father?

So for now Steve went on totally normal. Business as usual. Yes. That's it. Business as usual.

Totally and utterly normal.
Alisa sat at another restaurant. It had been a bit since she saw her father, and already he claimed to have met a charming young man that was perfect for her. Enough that he struck a deal with him for her hand in marriage. The rumor amongst the Guilds was that her dowry had been some incredibly rare, and valuable, Captain America cards from 1944. In mint condition, and misprinted.


Alisa swore that if anyone found out, she;d be the laughing stock of New York City, and New Orleans. This man was a member of Law Enforcement, not a member of one of the Guilds of New Orleans. That was a tiny blessing. But it also meant that it would prevent her form going back to her activities as an Enforcer, and keep her on a very tight leash. Jean Luc was not kidding when he said he wanted her out of trouble.


"Though I am REALLY scared as to how he managed to find someone in Law Enforcement! But then again, he DID have a connection to SHIELD during World War 2. The old man really does have connections everywhere, doesn't he?" Alisa thought to herself, as she began to re-apply her make-up. "Maybe he will have an "accident" on the way to the alter. Or maybe he'll chicken out! God... I hope he chickens out!"
Alisa was unhappy. She never enjoyed meeting up with her adoptive father, as it made her feel angry. Sure, he was kind to her, but he was never really there when she needed him. Now that she was nearly recovered from her injuries, she figured it was best to speak with him about coming back to the Guild.

She picked a rather posh restaurant for this meeting. Alisa managed to get a private room for the two of them to speak, and enough brandy to last her the duration of her Father's visit. Alisa wore a high end black dress, and had her long auburn hair held back by a headband. She wore her custom Jimmy Choo's with the black knight chess piece heels, and a black Bendel bag by her side.

"I do not think I am ready for this." She thought to herself. " But what choice do I have?"
The Scientists at the Future Foundation decided that Alisa could go out on a little day trip. She had to be back before dark, and they gave her a little bit of homework for her trip. She had to come back with an item she purchased that she liked. No one could recommend anything to her, and she could not let others tell her what to buy. She had to decide for herself on ONE item, and then report how she felt about it from start to finish.

Read more... )
It had been a few days since Arcade had managed to kidnap Mary. She returned to the Pier, to her home with the Future Foundation with an unfortunate guest in tow. Someone many people did not want about, and if they did, it was to talk poorly about her.

Alisa LeBeau was Arcade's unwilling puppet. He hacked into her neurological implants, forcing her to kidnap people and force them into a game of death. She had moments where she could take control, but it was barely enough to prevent people from getting hurt. She sacrificed her own intelligence, her own being, to stop Arcade. She would not be allowed to be used to hurt anymore innocent people. It was perhaps the only self-less act, besides saving Reiko, she had done.

After the Future Foundation scientists got a hold of the implants, they determined that it was impossible to save them. Brand new ones would have to be build and that would take time. Until then, Alisa would need to live without them... and no one could expect the state she was in once they were removed.

Her actions were childish, showing a curiosity for everything. She smiled and laughed in a genuine way, not like how she used to for show. Though confined to a single room, she did not dwell. She thrived.

There was no brooding, no pain, no bumbling when it came to socializing, and no sadness at being left alone for too long. The scientists were befuddled by her actions, until a CAT scan of her brain was taken. The bullet that had damaged her brain did not do as much damage as people thought. It was only the implants themselves that had done the real damage. Alistaire Shaw had been tricked into doing more harm than good when it came to his bodyguard, and he never knew it. A sad irony.

For now, Alisa sat in her room, her eyes glued to a TV. From what Mary heard, Alisa never watched TV, she never got a chance to, and when she did... well... Ryan could attest she would try to cover her tracks about her lack of pop culture. She appeared mesmerized by some play that was being televised, her arms about a pillow, hugging it as the show went on.
The sound of spotlights coming on could be heard, and the darkness that had embraced the people within the room had disappeared. Instead, they were on what looked like an elaborate stage... something out of a reality TV show like the Bachelor. As if things could not get stranger, a large, 65" LED TV came to life, showing a young woman in a white jacket, green shirt, and a horrible yellow and orange polka dot tie.

"Ah! Our lovely contestants have woken up! Welcome, welcome one and all to Murderworld 2012!" The neuro-implants in the sides of her eyes began to glow a bright green in color, and her face had a large smile upon it. "These contestants were carefully selected to take part in the most fun, and dangerous version of Murderworld yet! Winners get to live, if we have any winners, that is. And the losers? Well, they get to die horribly painful and elaborate deaths!"
.

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The Next Generation of Marvel Heroes

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