Bloody roots of the Family Tree

the events of this thread take place after:
http://superhero-rpg.forumotion.com/t1745p30-sim-s-call-for-help-quest-thread
and:
http://superhero-rpg.forumotion.com/t1678p30-media-blitz





"Beer or wine? That sums up the German conundrum. One is at the heart of a pilsner-swilling culture that draws kegloads of visitors annually, is the very reason for one of the world’s great parties (Oktoberfest) and is consumed with pleasure across the land. The other is exported worldwide, is responsible for gorgeous vine-covered valleys and is enjoyed everywhere, often from cute little green-stemmed glasses.

And the questions about Germany continue. Berlin or Munich? Castle or club? Ski or hike? East or west? BMW or Mercedes? In fact, the answers are simple: both. Why decide? The beauty of Germany is that rather than choosing, you can revel in the contrasts (except maybe with the car question…). Exploring this country and all its facets can keep visitors happy for weeks.

Berlin, edgy and vibrant, is a grand capital in a constant state of reinvention. At the other end, Munich perches atop Bavaria, the centre of national traditions. Half-timbered villages can’t help but bring smiles as you wander their cobblestoned and castle-shadowed lanes. Cities of all sizes boast some of Europe’s best clubs, as you’d expect from the home of techno. Enjoying the outdoors, from skiing Alpine peaks to hiking carefully preserved forests, is essential. And compare the ancient traditions of the east, as beautiful Dresden adjusts to the 21st century, with Cologne, where decades of prosperity burnish its grand heritage."

The glossy fold-out, a comprehensive map and sight-seeing must-have tourist leaflet Albert Wagner III had picked up and read cover to cover in a matter of seconds.The place was more beautiful than he could have imagined. Grampa's pictures barely did it justice, and he stood; dressed in full tourist regalia; soaking it all in. After reaching Sim's friend's apartment and finding no one home, he'd assumed they'd left to catch their plane. It was no problem at all for the likes of the Super Hero, the Samaritan, He'd simply collected himself emotionally and then zipped off across the Pacific Ocean toward Germany. He flew low and stayed off radar, stopping only to wave at Vietnamese children and few 'hill-billy' Pakistanis that shot at him with AK-47's. When the Samaritan reached the land of his Forefathers, he made a quick stop to foot race on the Autobahn and then changed into civilian clothes as to not upset the locals.

It had been hard to let go of the recent turmoil of the events of recent, but now here, in this beautiful country he really let himself regroup. But that's what the Wagner's did; they pulled themselves up by the boot straps in the face of adversity. Grampa did it after WWII, he picked his pregnant wife up and moved to Brazil, leaving his heritage behind him. When Albert's father was a young boy they Moved to the USA and became citizens, and now this was the Albert's task. He would not let these recent negative occurrences stop him, he would rise above them and persevere.

Albert spent most of the day touring around and snapping shots of historical buildings and famous sites, like a normal man. Little did he know that a clandestine group of operatives were watching his every move and taking pictures of him. They were unnoticeable to the untrained eye, simply invisible when blended in to the work-a-day crowd, but they were there, watching his every move since arriving. their motives as mysterious as their sly observation. Someone wanted to know more about a certain 'newbie' Super Hero Americaner Tourist.

Albert awoke on his second day, here in Germany. He'd rented a hotel room when Sim and her motley bunch of superheroes had shown up. He wondered to himself if they run in to trouble but then decided it was more likely that their drug addled minds probably forgot where they parked their plane. Not all of them seemed too bad off, Sim of course seemed like a perfectly nice girl and certainly her tale of kidnapping and disfigurement was a just cause. Then there was Sul-Fury, he was a good man, the Samaritan could sense that about him. Heck, even one of the musician types had been OK, he seemed to be their leader, but if he was their leader, he was doing a horrible job of controlling his band mates. The Samaritan had made up his mind though, If he didn't see there arrival in any of the major Airports soon, he would have to return home and make sure they were all right.

For now though, he could take some time off, see more sights. He dressed in his costume and then place his tourist clothes over top. He wore a tan khaki shirt with green cargo pants. He had picked up a disposable film camera at the local gift shop, even though the nice sales person told him that a 'digital camera' was a better idea. After gathering his things, He was up and out of the hostel and on his way down the road. Today he thought he might try and find his family home. He had a picture and an address of where his Great Grand Father had lived before fleeing the Father land after WWII.

He reached the place with good time, not using his super speed, he was content with soaking up local culture of the small towns he paced through. The journey was fairly uneventful with the exception of a few strange occurrences; several times Albert thought he'd seen men in black suits, red ties, and fedoras. That in itself wasn't so strange as they were obviously different people, his photographic memory made sure of that. But they all seemed to be paying attention to him, not in a direct manner, but he caught glimpses of them watching him. It was strange but it might only be a coincidence and he didn't let it bother him, because after all he was the Samaritan!

The outer facade had been updated as the years past, but the buildings under lying structure was the same and the address matched. He smiled at the fine state of the house and thought of what proud roots he must have come from as he knocked on the door. After a minute the door opened and revealed a young woman of ravishing beauty. Her hair blonde, braided and wrapped in to buns at the back. Her eyes were a blue that reminded him of the exact color of the gorgeous lakes of the area he'd passed on the way here. Her lips were thick and plumped, and natural hue of magenta that needed no lipstick to hide there perfectness. She was dressed in an informal way, that suggested she might have been engaged in house work or baking before answering the door. Her blouse was open enough to reveal the the tiniest hint of cleavage, and small beads of sweat stood out like glowing pearls. The the was personification of Germanic beauty, like an image pulled directly out of Albert's wildest fantasy. Almost to perfect not to believe he wasn't dreaming right now, he felt his mouth drop open not able to find words.

"Hallo Sir, kann ich Ihnen helfen" She preened happily with a glowing smile.

"uuuhhhh....I ....uhhhh....I mean Danke...Mein Name ist Albert, ich denke, meine Familie könnte wurden aus dieser Region. Kennen sie alle ... Wagners?" He said in a positively mid-western accent. He stood stupefied, glossed over eyes at the girl's striking beauty.

"Of course.....I am Gretchen Wagner, We are cousins, Familienangehöriger Albert. Fernen cousins I suppose....." Smile smiled and the glow from it, hypnotized the Samaritan. She seductively ran her pointed finger done his chest.

Gretchen invited the stunned hero in disguise in. He wanted to take time and look at all the beautiful architecture and culture that filled the house, but found it hard not to stare as the perfect, toe-headed, angel that lead him in, like a bull by his nose ring. Even the smell was completely enamoring, not one so generically appealing but instead some pheromone crafted just for his nose. Her gate was like a ballerina dancer that bade him to follow without question as she strode in and waved about, showing off the family domicile. They reached a large lead glass cabinet that held an extensive photograph collection. She opened the door and fished around for a minute before pulling out a silver framed 8"-10" family photo of Albert as a young man and his father and mother behind him. He himself had no idea of when it was taken or even the slightest memory of his parents ever mentioning family back in the Fatherland. He grasp the family photo and look closely for a minute, maybe the first time he had pulled his line of sight off the beauty of the his distant cousin since they'd walked in.

"I don't remember this picture....I mean I am sure it's us.....but you would think at ....what....13...maybe 14, I would remember getting it taken....right?" He stammered trying to think. But just then the picture of perfection's ,that was of course his 'distant' cousin; hand rubbed up and down his over sized bicep hidden underneath the tourist costume, and stole any inner-monologue from his mind.

"AAAhhhhh the impetuousness of youth. hehehehe....I hardly remember my teenage years either, they were sooooo......how do you say?....'abenteuerlich'" She said with the smallest of curl on her plump lips and before he could answer with a dull statement about how he was a boyscout at the time, she was rubbing the back of his neck. "You know I always wondered about you....living the big 'Amerikanisches Leben'. You are soooo well built Mien Herr. You must carry our master genes. Vould you be so upset if I admitted a small romantische verliebtheit with you ....." She cooed as she caressed the small of his thick neck.

" I ....aaaahhhh.....I ...." He was ready to let his head get pulled in for what would surely be the antithesis of heaven personified in a kiss before an electrical shock jumped from his lips to hers, it knocked him back into coming to his senses and he pulled back. " It's just....I am ...aaahhhhh married.....Yeah....I am married....and We are of course related...soooo....." He clumsily pulled away, resisting every urge in his body. The shock was unexpected but he was sure it was just accumulated static charge from his long walk.

"bbbahhh........Wie, absolut bohren! " she said with a disgusted look on her face and pushed him away with more force than he expected. The shove knocked him over, the coffee table caught underneath his knees and he tumbled back onto the couch. He looked up, in absolute surprise, but not angry....no never angry at such an amazing beauty.

"I think you misunderstand Herr Cousin...... I am not asking...." She had dropped her dress to the ground, still the fiendish, yet at the same time divine smile adorned her lips.

When the Samaritan awoke, he was laying on the side of a gravel road, His memory was foggy. He sat up and tried to think of whether the events that had just occurred had been some twisted delusion from his subconscience or actually real. The content was enough alone to assure that they must have been some sick fantasy brought on from the stress of recent events. He stood up and dusted himself off, when he finally made to the house that he'd just apparently dreamed about, he'd found the cold reality. It was a run down abandoned squaller instead of his, now obvious, dream of what should have been. He laughed to himself in spite of his humility and started off back toward his hotel room.

The only fact he couldn't explain were the undeniable scratch marks that run in deep grooves up his back. Those were real enough, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out their explanation. Not just because he believed the dream of meeting his perfect heritage, but because he was near invulnerable and it would take no less than irradiated super blades to cause them. He reached back and rubbed his back wondering if the theory about ones subconscience control over ones reality contained more validity than he'd previously given thought to.

The Samaritan shook his head and walked away from the now apparent crack house, these were thoughts for another day, right now he had to get back to his hotel room and check the airport arrivals to see if any flights form LA had come in.

Deep in an underground secret lair the blonde woman that was named Gretchen just hours ago now revealed her true identity, Baroness Kirschensorte, direct descendant of the old world Nazi super powered Villain, Baron Blackheart. She stripped off the silly Paully-girl costume and adorned her normal uniform. The black leather bodysuit was form fitting and ultramodern, a direct reflection of the new regimes idealism. She was not her father and that was obvious to any whom may have known the original member of the 'Masters of Mayhem'.

The first Silver age group of super-villains to assemble in response to the League of Legends,' back in the day'. But it was this same past-his-prime defaced, evil Monarch that put the plan in motion all those years ago. The scientist that worked for him, henchmanning for the Evil master back during the War were progressive men. Many, so much so, that their research was too progressive for the time and so they were only left with evil super villains funding to back their extreme experiments. One was a scientist in genetic alteration for the 'Master Race' program, Albert Wagner. This man had answered the question, but it wasn't a fast answer. He could distill the German super soldier but it wold take a few generations. The Reich wasn't interested in such long sighted goal and Wagner was refused by the National Socialist movement. But determined men are hard to detour and so Herr Wagner found funding in the private sector. Baron Blackheart paid the bills and the Scientist wasn't morally prohibited while in R&D (Research and Development) phase. But by the time the Allies had conquered the Axis, everyone had gone into hiding. Rumors swirled through the inner circles about Herr Wagner making it out to Brazil with a single specimen his own unborn child.

Baroness Kirschensorte now the formal leader of the Forth Reich's organization believed these rumors and had spent the last five years tracking down the Wagner family tree. It had turned up a particular branch that lives in the US and survived a plane scratch before finding out that he had super powers and no understanding of why. The truth, this well intentioned 'All-American' fool had no idea was that he was the Nazi idealism of the Master race personified. These 'Master-Men' would had populated the world right now, if Herr Wagner had been properly cultivated, he just didn't know it yet.

Cloning was costly, time intensive, and unpredictable at best, the Baroness knew that turning the unsuspecting hero would have the most effective outcome, the trick was how she was going to get Uncle Sam's star-spangled-nephew to turn to the 'dark-side'. That would be the tricky bit. More research into the fledgling hero would provide answers to that particular hitch and she had already had red-tied, fedora'ed agents onto that trail of action.

Just then as she stalked around the busy command center at the compounds base, her decrepit ancient Grand-father wheeled up in his mechanized wheel chair/iron-lung. He reached out and snatched the test result for the dominatrix grand-daughter. "Isssssss....thisssss.....it....?" His labored voice croaked, "Didddd....the fool ......re....create the.......Master Race?" He hissed.

" I believe sooo Geliebten Großvater....I believe sooo" She said before smacking the old man and snatching the sample back. The helpless old man cowered in his external life support system away from is own kin. He knew she was even more heartless than he, and dared not rise against her. Admiration toward her power lust was just one compliments he would have paid her. If Evil-beggots-Evil than she was the boiled down version of anything the displaced despot would have ever dreamed of. She was cold and calculating and worst of all self'motivated. When she was 14 she'd attempted her first coupe of her grand father's hold over the organization. He went to the lengths of cutting her off from the family fortune, and still she persisted. Marrying rich aristocrats, murdering them, and amassing a fortune of her own. She had taken formal control by the time she was 25 and now ruled with an Iron fist. Only the most basic instincts of blood saved the Baron from execution by her hand. He had to swear allegiance to the 'Ice queen' in order for her to spare his miserable existence. He was more proud of her than words could describe.


"I think I have need of your Automaton Dreadnaughts.....be a dear assemble a platoon of them for me...." Her mood changed with scary speed as went from viscous corporate dominatrix to seductress and tease to a man far to old to do anything about it.

"Yessss....Dearest...." the creepy old man puffed in response. the scene was creepy and even some of the more desensitized red-tied henchmen cringed in disgust.

The Samaritan had eventually made it back to his hotel, and now many nights had passed without so much a peep from the girl that had employed him to help her back in LA. If they hadn't arrived by tonight, he would start off across Asia and head back home to check on their whereabouts.

Sitting there on his bed, watching the Hotel's cable TV, the superhero hadn't been this relaxed since he first woke up after that fateful plane crash and found out that he had superpowers. Just then the Emergency Broadcast system issued an alert. Breaking news showed the carnage as a several large robots/tanks, wreaked havoc downtown. The Machines were huge and heavily armored, The multitude of WWII era ordinance equipped to them was more than a match for local police. Flame-throwers, machine guns, anti-aircraft missiles,every sort of heritage killing implement reigned off the things killing people in their wake.

Samaritan sat up and pulled his tourist outfit's shirt open to reveal his costume underneath. His eyes were fixed to the screen as he changed. He advanced eyesight picking up on the fresh paint jobs of the Mechanized Dreadnoughts. Somebody was breaking out the antiques for this little bout of evil rampage, and the Samaritan would one to find that out. He leapt into the air and soared out of the hotels window, his red cape trailing behind him.

He shot across the city scape like a bullet, knocking dumbfounded looky-lous aside on his approach. He was downtown in seconds, crossing the police barrier without stopping. His fist was raised and locked out in front of him as he plowed into the first giant robot. It's WWII armament, may have scared the citizens of the twentieth century but compared with the Samaritan's might they were mere toys. He powered slammed it into a near by building and caved in it's chest plate along with the wall behind it.

Barley taking notice as the building shuddered on it's foundation, Samaritan went to work peeling back the steel armor. As he peered inside he saw that they were indeed, just robots...with no human pilot to work about he could really take it to them. He shot off after the next one, leaving the building to crumble down on to the damage battle-bot.

As he came full steam, at the next one, it countered and let loose with both is cannon and machine guns. Bullets bounced off of him like rice at a wedding, and as the larger cannon fired Samaritan punched the explosive and detonated it as he flew through the explosion. He snatched it up by it's treaded base and heaved it's tonnage into the air. Suspended above him it could do little more than fire off into the crowds, but not for long. The Samaritan's super hearing picks it's next target. The next one was just around the corner, currently skinning a woman and her baby with it's multi-bayonet fixture. The superman rears back and chucks the massive hunk of metal through the upscale building and destroys both.

The crowd, 'ooh and awwws' in between gasps of horror as they watch the Samaritan wreak havoc on these metal monsters, and the total destruction of the historic downtown area. He had smashed three more of the murderous things before seeing one of his punched had knocked the new paint off of one of them. Their old skin was revealed, as the faded colors of the the red circle and now infamous Buddhist symbol showed through.

"Nazi plots....In this day and age?" The Samaritan called out as he thrashed the squirming mechanism. It was then that he saw one of the civilians, trapped among this carnage. But he wasn't trapped at all, in fact, he seemed to be operating some sort of remote control. The fact that he was wearing the black suit and red tie uniform of one of the suspicious people that had been following him the other day was a whole other story.

"You there.....STOP!" The Samaritan hollered, dropping the destroy mech and bolting off after the mysterious man.

But the sharply dressed agent reacted in kind. He grabbed control of a nearby Dreadnought and set it on a course to intercept. He knew the thing wasn't enough to stop this caped crusader but maybe enough to slow him down. It opened up with it's flamethrower, and covered the Samaritan in a ball of fire.

The Samaritan's lungs weren't even remotely damaged when he was engulfed, but the hot burning mixture of gases ate up all the oxygen. He dropped to the ground clutching at his throat as the Tank-bot poured it on. The agent hadn't missed the fact either, he'd just gotten a juicy tid-bit of information about his assignment: The Samaritan needs air to breath....He reached up with the cuff of his coat sleeve and radioed in the discovery as he fled the scene.

The Samaritan only let the show go on for so long, He pressed his oxygen starved body off the ground, he was entirely coved in fire and still the large mechanoid thing poured fuel on the flame. His costume, natural fiber and the last one he had, hung in cinders around his orange glowing form. It was this last frustrating fact that pushed the otherwise mild mannered hero over the edge. His mouth and eyes shot open and a turret of blue electricity erupted from his head. The blue lightning bolt surge forth as he screamed and blew the machine to pieces.

The crowd started to appear from around the corners and from their hiding places as they realized they been saved. They swarmed toward the unknown and nearly naked hero that had just saved them. The Samaritan was confused, he had no idea what that blue energy was about, it almost looked like the energy the defeated villian El Ray, he simply couldn't explain it. The press crowded around and shot questions in German, he could barely make anything out. As he looked around though he saw more smoke rising from across where the old wall had stood.

"There are still more of them....I need a costume.....clothes...anybody?" He pleaded to the crowd of awestruck people. One of them obviously understood and pointed out one of the damaged shops across the street. He pushed through them and ran in, grabbing the first thing he saw in his size. Unfortunately as he put it on, he realized how silly he felt. The garb shop sold ordinary party costumes, the one he'd grabbed was of Captain Superior, it was a cheesy knockoff compared to the real thing, but it would have to make do.

With that he shot off in the direction of innocent screams.

( OCC anybody can join this BTW)