http://exiles-extras.livejournal.com/ (
exiles-extras.livejournal.com) wrote in
elseworldexiles2008-03-13 09:57 am
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Galactus's World-Ship
The enormous vessel has entered Earth's solar system - seemingly oblivious to all broadcast entreaties, it inexorably closes the distance to Earth. So insignificant to the ship's master are the beings of Earth that only the most perfunctory of the ship's defenses have been activated.
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Still, his studies of this craft should prove sufficient as he pilots their transport toward the Taa, mystical energies cocooning them for protection.
"The arrogance of Galactus not to consider us a threat will be his downfall."
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"Holy shock. Holy shock."
This thing is titanic. The newness of outer space is left behind at the sight of this monstrosity.
"Holy shock."
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"Yeah, that's about as good of words for it as any."
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Doom's craft begins to settle in, with a blueish glow coming from his optics, referencing the schematics of this massive ship to find the proper location for sliding in to board.
"Steel yourselves."
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Forcefields appear to encompass the invaders, trapping them in with the newly-arrived thirty-foot metallic watchmen.
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"I'm not sure whether the appropriate quip is asking how you can think of sex at times like this, or to ask whether you'd be scared or if you meant you'd be looking forward to it more."
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"People who live this stuff daily! How do you beat these things?!"
The damn breathing apparatus is going to hamper his effectiveness a bit... as is the lack of air for his pseudo-cape to catch for gliding... as is the lack of meaningful gravity - god, don't throw up in the mask.
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Testing the mettle of these dimensional exiles. Will they last more than a heartbeat while he prepares to weave a spell to escape this force-field trap?
Doom expects not.
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"Careful through here. Anywhere in this place could be one big deathtrap."
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He navigates his craft further into the Taa, as there's no shortage of space. This was not a craft contructed with tiny humans in mind.
Doom makes sure to stick with his fodder. Mildly impressive so far.
The approach to the chamber containing the Ultimate Nullifier is imminent.
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"Maybe his giant robot budget was cut this year.."
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Waiting for the next round of cosmic death.
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He stretches out a hand towards General Grimm.
"Do you accept these terms?"
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So, this is it. He might be the murderer of billions. And might, eventually, give Galactus the time he needs to not require those deaths. Is it worth it? Does he dare? Can he...not?!
Slowly, the hand moves forward. "Yeah." Ben says, finally. "Yeah, I do."
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Energy arcs from Galactus's hand, transforming Benjamin Grimm - connecting him to the bottomless font of the Power Cosmic - and enclosing his body in a protective cloak reminiscent of his homeworld.
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And Galactus... Galactus is so beyond the scope of his universe up to this point.
"This is... this is..."
He doesn't have words.
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"Grimm?" She shakes her head. "Is that you? It's like he's turned you into some kind of ... thing."
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And then, the cocoon moves. The stench of burning clay is suddenly overwhelming, as the rounded, neckless rock seems to have arms...legs...fingers, even. Those familiar with the mystic arts might think of a Mindless One, those familiar with religious myth might think of a golem, but that's not the cruel part. The cold, downright cosmically mean part of this transformation is revealed when that earth-shod behemoth opens his eyes...
...and they're the same piercing blues of General Benjamin J. Grimm. Just enough familiarity that he'll never be able to completly forget what he once was, and what he's become.
"...thing." The Thing grunts, his jaw almost cartoonishly shaped, his voice like an earthquake and a rave had some sort of terrible party, "...yeah. I...I guess dat fits."
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