User:InterceptTomato/sandbox
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Okay so this is like a really basic outline for a sort of Vietnam war piece in the world of breakthrough.
Themes: A good person can be manipulated into hurting others and only benefiting the few if they believe it's the right thing to do. A hero is sometimes only so because of the narration.
The year is 1965, our main character, Taylor Dove. An 18 year old kid who was drafted just a few weeks ago. He's still new to the whole concept of a war, and isn't quite sure of where he fits in. What he does know is that he's good at what he does, and people will tell him this. Taylor takes orders, does his job, and thinks that he's right in doing so. Higher ups will tell him what he's doing is good, he keeps his head down and keeps going. He'll have conversations with his fellow soldiers, make friends. He's your by the books army man. A little naive, as he is new to the whole world that he's now in, but he's trying his best.
Agent Orange is the name of multiple different powered people, all under the same title of Agent Orange. The US government, trying to deal with the thick jungle vegetation, decided to seek out and draft as many people with fire based powers as possible. They were sent out to the battlefield, and are used as a way to clear large swaths of jungle. Although they aren't the most common, most members of the core have worked with one. Usually, one agent is sent out with platoons on the most important missions. If you're lucky, that platoon would be yours.
Our Main character, Taylor, is cool
Breakthrough Issue #1
Cold Open
The usual quiet of the lab - the whirring of calculating machines, small talk, and shifts in the foundation - is replaced with thunderous booms, and frantic movements. Staff is told to evacuate the building, as there's a danger rampaging outside the building. Most of the lab staff collects there things and hurriedly leave the monotony of their work behind. The focus shifts to one woman, standing in front of a large, person sized chamber, full of a green liquid. She runs between monitors, which should be handled by multiple scientists, and keeps monitoring and stabilizing everything. Keeping a man in an induced coma for over 60 years isnt an easy task. She monolouges to herself.
"Great. Every goddamn scientist thinks they're more important than what we're doing here."
A siren blares in the background, the room shakes again, equipment falls and shatters. Sweat builds up on her brow, and she grits her teeth.
"Come on, come on! We can't lose him now!"
The heart monitor next to the machine slows, and vitals start to become weaker.
"DOCTOR!"
A voice sounds out, causing the doctor to whip around.
"We're being told to evacuate! We gotta go!"
"Shut up, Blakely!"
She runs over to an IV drip or something, fiddling around with the stasis machines. Her monologue continues.
"He doesn't get it! This man-"
Big shot of the stasis chamber
"He's too important to let die. Or wake up."
Blakely runs to the side of the doctor, grabbing her hand.
"WE'RE LEAVING! TO HELL WITH THE PROJECT! YOU-"
Suddenly, the huge head of a kaiju crashes through the building, crushing and killing both scientists instantly.
"OH YEA-YUH!"
Top Dawg starts to lay hit after hit into the monsters jaw.
“As you can see in the helicopter footage on screen now, the RoundTable is currently defending our great country's Department of Defense. It seems that Top Dawg has taken the fight to the ground. We're going to News Anchor lady name I'll come up with later, who's currently on the scene."
"Thank you, named News Anchor. As you can see behind me, the RoundTable is making quick work of the monster. The motives for the attack are still unknown, and-"
Suddenly, Cruise Control runs to the side of the News broadcaster, making her hair flip out of place.
“We don't know his motive yet,”
Cruise snatches the mic from the ladies hand
“But 9/11 was more than enough! We’re gonna send this Al Qaeda lovin’ asshole straight to the slammer!”
He hands the mic back, and with a wink, zooms off while the camera follows him
“A-And there goes the one and only Cruise Control!”
The perspective changes to Top Dawg laying into the monster again, landing hit after hit into its jaw. With one final roar, it passes out, and shrinks back into its human state. The 4 then stand around for a moment. The Medium looks at the other 3, and nods.
“Good work, I’ll see you all later.”
She then teleports away.
“Oh come on, you guys dont wanna grab drinks or nuthin’?”
Top Dawg calls after nothing. Coruscus walks off silently, and Cruise calls after her.
“Oh, you guys are no fun! Y’know, I’m always the one doing the interviews! It’s almost like you guys don't care about our image at all! If we come off as a bunch of freaks-”
His voice fades off as the panels change their focus to a broken lab, and the broken bodies that lay inside. Cruise Control looks down at them, showing a slight sign of disgust, before walking off like it's nothing. The camera crawls inside the room, and laying there is a single chamber, just big enough to hold a man. It’s cracked, tilted to one side. The figure lays inside, still asleep.
It’s the New Guy!
The camera zooms out of the scene playing on a small tv sitting on a gift shop check out counter. A young woman with her hair tied up in a messy ponytail sits behind it, looking resigned as she flips through a book about psychology. A man walks up beside her, his uniform hastily put on, and his beanie practically covering his eyes.
“Man, I been saying that the Round Table needs to fight more giant monsters for so long now! Seems like Japan gets all of them.”
He shadow boxes quickly. Brooke doesn't look up from her book, but responds
“Seems like all they do is fight monsters. The news feels more like TMZ everyday.”
“You got something against superheroes boxing? You jealous of all the girls in spandex?”
“As if.”
“Ay girl, you’d pull off a good hero costume.”
Brooke looks up from her book, unable to hide her disdain. Just then, Marshall walks into the gift shop, and lets out a deep sigh.
“Ugh, man…”
Archie approaches Marshall, and pulls him into a cool black guy hug.
“Last tour of the day, man! Phew. Tough? You look drained as a mothafucka.”
Marshall shrugs
“It was alright. All they really wanted to see were the WW2 sections again.”
Brooke responds, and she closes her book and sits up as she does.
“Right. But can you blame them? Those were, like, the first superheroes.”
“Yeah. But it gets boring. Every day I feel like I gotta talk about the Nazis. What about dinosaurs? I thought kids loved dinosaurs. I’d even take Ancient Egypt at this point…”
Archie slaps Marshall on the shoulder.
“Come on, man. Dont nobody wanna talk about summa that lame shit.”
“It’s- not lame, dude…”
Marshall scoffs, but looks somewhat embarrassed. Archie continues.
“Yo, I’m going to a friend's place to chill after this. You wanna come?”
Marshall shrugs.
“You know me and your friends don't get along too well.”
“Well it’s your fault, man. Black with no sneakers, no Lil Wayne, nothin.”
Marshall just smiles in response.
“It’s not like I can control that..”
Archie sighs. Then he points at Brooke.
“How about you? I can introduce you to some of my homeboys. They’ll like you for sure.”
“No thanks.”
“Come onnnn, girl.”
He leans forward onto the desk.
“Pretty please?”
“Fuck you.”
Archie pauses for a second, before stuffing his hands in his pockets and mumbling under his breath.
Marshall watches him walk away, before turning back to Brooke.
“I mean, it was a PRETTY please!”
“Not pretty enough, I guess.”
Brooke stands up, gathering her things.
“Right, I’m outta here.”
“Hey! Wait a minute! We might still have people come through. We’re open for another hour!”
Brooke's pace doesn't slow down, and she starts walking towards the door leaving the shop.
“You wouldn’t mind closing for me, would you?”
She smiles at Marshall, turning around to face him as she walks out. Marshall rolls his eyes
“... I’ll walk you out.”
“Yay!”
The two of them walk out of the store, and end up going through a section of the museum focusing on Early Human history. The walls are scattered with different pieces of ancient Mesopotamian art.
“Sure is empty right now.”
Marshall tries to strike up conversation
“Yup.”
Brooke kills the conversation.
Marshall looks at the walls, and the many artifacts that line them.
The two of them continue walking, chatting idly.
“So… you got any questions about early civilization or something?”
Marshall asks.
“Not really.”
“Oh come on, you gotta admit, the art here is at least pretty interesting.”
They stop at a carving of a bearded king wrestling with a horned man.
“Look at this, isn’t it awesome how we’ve pretty much had heroes forever?”
Brooke looks up at the large carving, crossing her arms as she does. Marshall continues.
“I mean, Gilgamesh was literally the first one, like, ever. At the beginning of the story, he’s pretty much a guy who abuses his power and acts like a total jerk.”
“Wouldn’t be the last.”
Brooke starts walking again, and Marshall follows.
“But after his buddy dies, and after he goes on this long journey to find immortality, he realizes that death comes for us all, and vows to spend his life helping others. Classic character arc.”
“Huh. I guess that actually is kinda interesting.”
“Right?”
Marshall then notices the section that they’re at now.
“Oh man-”
His shoulders slump.
“I love WW2 and politics and everything, but I’ve been through this place 100 times just today.”
Brooke just keeps walking, going past tanks, planes, murals. Then, she stops at a mannequin wearing The Flight's iconic bomber jacket. Behind it is a whole slew of different RoundTable memorabilia. Uniforms and emblems. Weapons and framed photographs.
“Can you believe heroes are allowed to keep acting like soldiers in our streets, just because they wear bright costumes?”
Brooke speaks flatly, and Marshall raises an eyebrow in response.
“Well, if it’s to help people…”
Brooke looks over to him, the look in her eye almost reading like disappointment.
“...Yeah.”
YOWCH!!
Hard cut to a couple panels of the street
The city isn't too bad, but it does have worse areas. Including the area marshall lives. He’s lucky to have gotten his own place, so he wont complain. He walks his way home, before getting stopped by a random crackhead. The man sniffs hard, hands in his pockets.
“H-Hey man, you happen to have some money on ya? Just like- 20 bucks. You got that, dontcha?”
The man rubs his neck with his left hand
“Look dude, I dont have any money for you, so just…”
Marshall shoos him away. The addict flinches, his hand shifting in his pocket, he takes in a deep breath, before frowning
“Man, fuck you, man…”
He mumbles to himself as he walks in the opposite direction of Marshall. Marshall sighs, and continues his way back home. It’s a long walk, and before he gets home, he sees the same crackhead, now bothering a mother with her young kid.
“Just- please, ma’am, I need this…”
He grabs the woman, and she tries to pull away. Marshall thinks to himself
“Great. What kinda person would I be if I didn't help this lady? I’d look awful! Maybe I should’ve just given him the money…”
“HEY!”
He shouts, and approaches the man.
“Leave her alone, you goddamn junkie!”
Marshall and puffs out his chest as he stops in front of the man.
“I dont need no problems, man!”
“Come on, scram, skedaddle.”
He shoves the man lightly, who stumbles back, and reaches into his pocket. Marshall turns around, and as he does, a loud bang sounds out. Marshall grabs his abdomen the moments his nerves alert him to, and his fingers get coated in viscous red. The woman screams, and the soon to be hero falls to his knees. He loses consciousness, and the shooter runs from the scene. As he lays there, the bullet falls to the floor, exiting his body as if it fell right through him.
Later, Marshall comes back to his senses. He blinks and pain radiates through his core. He winces. As he awakes, the woman sits at the end of his bed, holding her child on her lap.
“Oh my god!”
She quickly stands up, and cups one of his hands.
“I’m so so sorry! I didn't mean for anything-”
Marshall puts his free hand up
“It’s fine, it’s fine.”
“I’m glad you stopped him but- I’m really not worth the trouble!”
Marshall smiles
“I’m just happy to help.”
She nods
“Not a whole lotta people would’ve helped me like that. A few other people even walked by…”
She pauses
“Thank you. People like you make every day a little better.”
She stands up from the bedside, and grabs her child's hand. As she leaves the room, Archie, as well as Marshall parents, walks in.
“That’s yo girl? And yo secret kid? And you dint tell me?”
Marshall and Archie dap each other up
“Nah, I just stopped her from getting robbed. All I got outta it was hospital bills.”
Archie laughs, and right after he does, Melodie practically launches herself at Marshall.
“Oh my goood, my baby!”
“Ow- Mom, OW!”
She pulls back, sitting on the side of the bed.
“I’m sorry, baby, we were just so worried!”
Gerard places a hand on his shoulder.
“Your mother didn’t sleep at all last night.”
“Well maybe it’s just because I love you more than your dad over here. He was out cold in a minute.”
Marshall chuckles.
“Alright, alright. Well, thank you all for visiting.”
Archie sits in a chair on the side of the bed.
“That was some crazy shit you did out there, though! You for real did some superhero shit, just without the powers!”
“Psh. I wish I had some super healing or something right now. This hurts like a mothafucka.”
Marshall shifts on the bed, straightening up.
“Ay man, pain killers make you feel like you got superpowers.”
Archie jokes, before sitting down at the bedside.
“You a better man than me though. I woulda asked for 3 news stories, 4000 dollas, and a good time.”
Marshall scoffs.
“Chill out dude. I didn't expect anything. Besides, it was my bad it happened in the first place.”
“Whatchu mean?”
Melodie asks.
“Yeah. Some junkie asked me for money, and after I said no, he started bothering her.”
“Well that's not your fault. You can't control what other people do.”
Gerard chimes in.
“And there’s gonna be a lot of times where you wish you could.”
Melodie nods.
“Well, I’m just glad you’re safe.”
She hugs him again
“OW!”
“Okay, we’re gonna let you rest. Dont want to keep you up for too long, now.”
The two of them leave, and Gerard pops his head back in quickly.
“We’re proud of you, man! Just don't get shot again!”
Then they leave.
Archie takes this as his queue to leave as well. He puts his hand on Marshall's shoulder
“Youre a good dude, man. Get well soon.”
With that, Archie exits the room, leaving Marshall smiling to himself.
What are these… powers?
A few days later, Marshall walks into his apartment, still feeling sore from the prior hospitalization.
He drops his keys, and kisses his teeth.
“You would think I was shot in the hand.”
Walking into his home, he turns on the tv, and walks into the kitchen. He pulls out his phone, and starts scrolling through his contacts. Suddenly, his foot gets caught, and he face plants directly into the fridge, causing a huge gash to open on his forehead. He yelps, and touches the wound.
“Dammit!”
Marshall shuffles to the bathroom, and closes the door behind him. He looks at himself in the mirror. It’s pretty bad. He tries to lean forward onto the vanity, but just falls. Directly through the counter, then the tile floors, then the foundation beneath. Marshall is surrounded by pure black. He cups his neck, his brain assumes he’s drowning. He holds his breath, desperately looking around, before gasping deeply. He’s fine, he can breathe. It’s like he’s in some sort of inbetween world.
“What the fuck??”
Marshall whispers to himself. He twists around, but doesn't move.
His eyes darted around. He’s dazed, scared, panicking. Then he hears his phone ringing. Like a fish being dragged out of the sea, he’s suddenly back in his bathroom. He’s sweating bullets, his breath is ragged. Cautiously, he reaches out to grab the phone. It slips right through his fingers. Literally.
“Oh my god…”
He stumbles directly through the solid door, his foot gets caught again, he pulls it out, but his shoe is now one with the floor. He simultaneously exists as a solid and something else. He scrambles into a corner, and huddles up into a ball, desperately trying not to phase anywhere.
He wakes up to the sound of knocking, hours later. Archie lets himself in.
“Yo, Marshall? Where you at?”
He looks over to see a traumatized, sweaty, bleeding man huddled in the corner.
“Yo! You good?!”
He rushes over to Marshall, trying to grab him. His hands phase through the man.
“I- I dont exist… I don’t exist anymore..!”
Marshall starts seeping into the ground, disappearing
“Marshall, hey- what’s happening?”
“I dont know! I dont know!”
Archie looks like he’s panicking, looking around the room for anything. Archie then pulls up his beanie, looking Marshall in the eye.
“You’re going to be alright, Marshall. You just have to calm down.”
Archie starts breathing in a strange rhythm.
“Usually pregnant ladies use this to calm down, but it might work here too.”
Marshall looks up at him, and slowly starts to follow his lead. He can’t help but laugh after a minute.
“You look stupid, you know that?”
Archie stops, and frowns, pulling the beanie back over his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.”
Moments later, the two of them are sitting on the couch.
“So you started phasing through random objects?”
“Nah man, EVERYTHING! I don’t know how or why, but…”
He picks up a tv remote and it phases straight through his hand.
“Sometimes things just… go through me. I can stay solid if I focus but… man, it’s scary.”
Archie pauses.
“Wait.”
He stands up quickly.
“Dude, now that you got fucking superpowers, you should become a hero!”
Marshall follows him
“What? No way, nooo way.”
“Nah nah, hear me out.”
Archie grabs Marshalls shoulders.
“You for real just helped someone like a hero the other day, and now you got the powers to back it up!”
“Hell no! I don't even know how to walk with these powers! Let alone fight!”
“Think about it, bro. You’ll be on tv, all over YouTube, everywhere! They’ll love you!”
Marshall thinks about the woman he saved, all the praise he got for it.
We’re proud of you.
You’re a good dude, man.
People like you make everyday a little better.
He lifts his hand in front of his face, and watches as it vibrates and phases in the air. Maybe this doesn’t have to be a curse after all.