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marvel-citizens.livejournal.com

Irving was waiting in the same spot, as patient as a monument, when Spider-Man returned with more than spaghetti in hand. Though Irving was initially a little wary of Morph, the shapeshifter soon put him at ease with a few quips and impersonations that set the young mutant to giggling. Irving didn't know Rodney Dangerfield from Dom DeLuis, but he knew silly voices and funny faces when presented for his entertainment.

Halfway through the promised spaghetti, he squinted at Spider-Man, then at Morph, and asked, "Do you work for a paper, like Peter did?"

ms-tique.livejournal.com

Some things never change.

Ramon lights up another cigarette. Half a dozen butts litter the street by his feet.

He knew the minute he saw Issac's body. The additional data Mr. Lensherr sent along only confirmed it. This shouldn't be possible. Isaac's killer has been dead for over twenty years.

Ramon stares at the juggling rooster on the Cock and Balls bar sign. He doesn't have to do this. He could send in Mortimer or Dominic instead. They've never met the man.

He doubts they'd survive.

The broken glass outside the window, layers of peeling paint on the badly repaired doorsill, and strong stench of whiskey and cigar smoke are like a set piece from the worst part of his past. They should've stayed in Europe. America is too cold, too hard.

He takes one last drag on the cigarette and lets it fall to the ground. Time to go to work.

exiles-media.livejournal.com

LENSHERR-SUMMER FAMILIES ANNOUNCE NUPTIALS

Philanthropist-real estate mogul Erik Lensherr announces the upcoming marriage of his daughter, Lorna Lensherr, to Alex Summers, younger brother of high-tech businessman Scott Summers. The ceremony is expected to be the social event of the season.

The bride-to-be is well known around New York for her support of her family's numerous charities, including a recent appearance at Temple Beth Israel on behalf of mutant orphans. Friends of the family say they are pleased to see Miss Lensherr settling down. Her older sister, Wanda Lensherr, is especially happy for her younger sister: "Lorna's been a wonderful aunt to my own sons, and I know she'll be a wonderful wife and mother. I wish her and her future husband good fortune in the years to come."

The groom-to-be already holds a seat on the board of his family's company, while his hobbies include rock-climbing, geology, and sculpture.

In lieu of presents for the happy couple, Mr. Lensherr has requested that donations be made to the following charities: (continued on page D12)

marvel-citizens.livejournal.com

In a tired part of the city
Hiding from the fast talk
Watch 'Don't walk' to 'Walk'
Easy when you're dreaming
Staring at the movies
Standing in a circle,
Laughing at the wrong time.

If alcohol could take me there.
I'd take a shot a minute
And be there by the hour.

Take a walk around Times Square
With a pistol in my suitcase
And my eyes on the TV.

By day, the junction of Broadway and Seventh Avenue dazzles all the senses. By night, the senses are electrified. Anything could happen between Sixth and Eighth Avenues, from West 40th to West 53rd.

mutant-science.livejournal.com

Louis Armstrong croons in a scratchy recording over the antique speakers. The old turntable is an oddity amid the menagerie of mad science technology that clutters the room.

A cyborg cat moves like a spider across the ceiling with it's extra limbs as it stalks a fly buzzing around the overhead lights.

"Mittens, you're gonna break the lamp again." The Maker chides his pet. He really needs to upgrade the cat's logic routines.

A vacuum attachment on his hand busies itself with cleaning up the errant feathers on the floor. Warren really thrashed around at first during the procedure. The Maker felt a sense of happy satisfaction knowing that his new friend would never know doubt or fear again. A wave of sublime contentment washed over him as he considered his accomplishment. The Summers family needed good men like him.

house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com

Raven perches on the edge of a stool, fascinated by a local newspaper. It's like something out of another era. There's no AP wire, no Reuters. The local news section is the thickest part of the paper. New York is a big town, but the paper is full of small detials: local middleweight boxing matches, the Shriners hosting a benefit circus, a Catholic church potluck, the death of a dockworker's union boss.

She keeps an eye on the front desk. People checking in, checking out, asking for directions. Finally the little crowd dies down. Before the clerk takes a breather, she slides up to the marble desk.

"Excuse me." Her voice isn't quite a whisper. "But where can I find a discrete doctor?"

magneticmiss.livejournal.com

He had told her to buy a new outfit. This had actually translated into going to the spa, getting a manicure, having her hair trimmed and done, new shoes...the whole works. And none of it was her idea.

She knows he'll want to see the finished product, but she's been putting it off as long as she can, holing up in her room quietly, and avoiding the servants. It won't last forever, and she knows it. This is why the new dress, hose and shoes are all readily available. All it will take is the summons.

She is not looking forward to it.

Current Mood: anxious

wanda-maximoff.livejournal.com

Motherhood is a calling, Wanda Lensherr will say at every opportunity. Each birth means a life and eventually a death. It is a holy chore, raising children.

Which does not prevent the children from being holy terrors, on occasion, which Tommy will be at every opportunity. But she hopes he will behave now, during one of those most important times of a mother's day: story time.

"Billy?" she calls out. "Tommy? Boys? It's time." She settles on the living room couch, book in hand, her finger marking the place where she'd left off the night before.

mrs-p-lensherr.livejournal.com

The center island of the Lensherr's milk kitchen is covered in brochures for the Temple Beth Israel fundraiser. Crystal perches at one end, nursing her daughter.

"That dress looks perfect, Lorna." She smiles at her younger sister-in-law. "Are you ready? Have you read the rest of the briefings?" Her smile is light, but there's a hardness behind her blue eyes.

It's a good thing the younger woman doesn't keep up with the papers.

spidey2099.livejournal.com

It's a hell of a place.

They have seven suites on the top floor. The ritziest kind of opulent glamour of the era. Everything's comfortable, everything's stylized, and everyone gets their own hot showers.

Thanks to one guy getting sick of a neverending journey through crap.

"Here we are, kids. Try not to damage the upholstery. And if anyone's around, my name is Tyler Stone."

His throat constricts and tastes of vomit just for saying that.

"You're welcome."

lehnsherr-erik.livejournal.com

Isaac was not just an employee for the Lehnsherr family, he was family. He had been there through every important event of the last twenty years. He had seen everything but had not breathed any of the secrets that he had been entrusted with in any of that time.

And now he was dismembered on the kitchen steps with the blood covering most of the surroundings still wet and tacky.

The flies would be there soon.

"This will not happen on your watch." It is a threat and statement of fact rolled into one. "The wedding will happen without interruption and without some beast taking more lives." Whatever had killed Isaac had claws. Not even machine guns did this much damage to bodies.

This would need to be cleaned up and the marble replaced before there were guests. No one needed to see the great spreading stains of the life of his friend that had soaked into the stone.

Reaching out a hand he called to the iron and pulled the blood from the stones. Tiny droplets beaded up from the marble and fell upwards like rain that missed the sky until they had dispersed into the air.

He would never be so crass as to threaten the security overtly. But a small demonstration of his powers for a good cause would remind them that it was not only the blood of dead men that could be moved.

"Am I understood?"

Current Mood: angry

canadiansixpack.livejournal.com

Isaac. Trusted manservant and aide to the Lensherr family. He has heard and seen that which few are privy to, and never repeated any of it to outside ears. For almost twenty years, he has been a constant fixture to the household.

He will not make it to his twentieth anniversary in their employ.

His body will be found deposited unceremoniously at the kitchen steps the next morning, savaged as if by an enraged beast of unknown size and origin; the flesh ripped from its skeleton, the limbs almost severed by the sheer fury of the attack. Blood, in amounts that astound, clots atop the expensive marble, impossible to remove.

There are no clues, no prints, no witnesses. There never are.

house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com

A soft pop precedes the Exiles appearance.

They're on a busy streetcorner, standing at the side entrance of a massive steel and granite museum building. The Empire State Building dominates the skyline, but it's a skyline from another New York, out of another era.

The street is packed with Studebakers, Cadillacs, Crossleys, Fords - all with the windows down to let out the heat. On the sidewalk, women in knee to ankle length skirts and heels click-clack down the nearby subway entrance. The men all wear suits. Everyone over the age of 12 is wearing a hat.

"Poppa! Poppa! It's a traveling circus!" A little girl strains on the tether of her father's hand, pointing at them with her free arm. "I hope they have a monkey!"

"Hush." He covers his daughter's eyes, glaring at the naked blue teenager surrounded by what looks like a high wire act, some jugglers, and maybe a magician. Hard to tell without the plaquards. "We don't need those kind of shows around here, missy. The rest of you should be ashamed. If that's what it takes to sell your circus, then you must be darn poor performers."

He drags his daughter away, but the two of them are replaced by a large, curious crowd.

"Let's see ya juggle, mister!" Shouts a heckler

"Ooh! Ooh! Have they got bendy people? I love me some contortionists!"

"Nah! Nah! Itsa magic act! Right, right?" A guy's already holding out a bill, smiling eagerly. It's right at five o'clock, a great time for some cheap street theater before hopping on the subway home.

Current Location: New York City

marvel-citizens.livejournal.com

It's been said there are eight million stories in the Big Apple. Modern New Yorkers scorn this as an underestimate, though the more cynical ones will hold forth on the topic of how many stories are the same old, same old. Others will argue that every story is different, because New York makes them so. This surging, seething city: the hot spot of the American melting pot, where so many first set foot on American shores, where so many come seeking fame and fortune, where so many find only disappointment or despair or even death, where a few manage to hitch their dreams to that morning star.

"Every person on the streets of New York is a type. The city is one big theater where everyone is on display," said Jerry Rubin. All the world may be a stage, and all the men and women merely players, but who plays what? Who gets the leading role, and who will forever be stuck in the chorus line? Who will remain a stage-door Johnny, and who will be able to move from lead actor to director ... or the even more powerful position of producer?

Cast, crew, backers, and audience ... each one brings their own meaning to that granite beehive where people jostle and whir like molecules in an overheated jar.

New York City. Center of the universe.

If you can make it here, you'll make it anywhere.

hulksmashed.livejournal.com

A battered, broken Victor Von Doom shimmers into view above the final conflict. Flanking him are his wartime allies - a maskless, barely-conscious future Spider-Man, a naked young brunette woman clutching a makeshift knapsack full of equipment as well as her gun, a dazed Wolverine with lifeless, dangling arms and a gleaming metallic mutant currently possessed and controlled by Nocturne of the Exiles.

They arrive just in time to see and hear the second spectacular impact. Another Ultimate Strike - the most devastating blow that a wielder of Mjolnir can deliver. A thundering blow that echoes for miles.

The Maestro, his skin and hair having been burned off by the initial blast of magic and lightning, has not had time to fully heal before the second strike explodes around him once more, lighting every inch of his skin and exposed musculature on fire - and this time, eliciting a true scream of pain from his throat.

The wielder has been Sarah, the Crusader, who has collapsed after the second toss, her arms scalded and scorched from the effort - being tended to by the native Avenger calling himself Patriot.

The carnage that once called itself the Hulkbusters is strewn about the battlefield. One small man remains, futile in his attempts to revive Leonard Samson. Bruce Banner knows this display of power won't kill the Jade Giant. It will just make him all the angrier once he's healed.

Hulk get mad... Hulk get strong.

hulksmashed.livejournal.com

It figures, a megalomaniacal freakshow like the Mad Thinker would set up shop beneath an actual landmark. Thankfully, it's not really a high priority to actually save the bastard's life.

The Hulkbusters arrive under cover of a darkening sky, carrying with them some extradimensional castoffs. They have an elaborate siphoning system prepared that they hope to be able to set up, to stall the Maestro long enough to incapacitate him, and with any luck, kill him.

Banner knows this is really just a delay tactic, to give the secret team time to work their espionage and destroy the machine crucial to Maestro's plan. Far too much to hope that they could engineer a way to reverse it.

Their aircraft approaches the mountain cautiously.

The smoldering remains of Roosevelt's face is not a good sign.

spidey2099.livejournal.com

Butte, Montana. The outskirts.

Town looks pretty well beaten down, so the intel may still be spot on.

It's hard to get used to following this hairy runt around after he was such a terrifying psycho killfreak just two worlds ago, but chances are, if he flips out, Raven will be the first one to go, and he likely wouldn't lose much sleep over that.

Spider-Man's head has cleared, and he's crawling up a steep hill to get a better view over the bluff.

"I'm not seeing anything yet," he mutters down to the rest of the crew, through the comm.

hulksmashed.livejournal.com

The Hulkbusters have evaded Walker's team of jackbooted supers and found their way to Patriot's secret base. With a bit of help from Logan, who's technically still on their roster.

How long they've been waiting for the team to return from the disaster at the Baxter is anyone's guess.

When the team finally returns, though, they're not welcomed very warmly.

"Took you long enough," Banner snaps.

doc-richards.livejournal.com

Reed Richards paces through his laboratory on the upper floors of the Baxter Building - stopping at each experiment to make sure they are operating within appropriate parameters, checking the readouts to interpret results, adjusting the antimatter containment fields.

The quiet hum of the machinery filling the room is interrupted by the klaxon of the building's security alarms. Before he can even stretch to the security monitors, a section of the roof caves in.

An outstretched limb grabs a blaster pistol kept nearby in the event of attack, as he peers into the cloud of dust.

"We prefer our visitors to register at the front desk.."

Current Mood: calm

marvel-citizens.livejournal.com

Latveria is a small, humble nation, protected by a powerful tyrant. Isolated in the Carpathians, with Symkaria to the south, it has remained a quaint country controlled by a man with absolute power.

So what happens when that man vanishes?

The Avengers East Quinjet hovers over the ruins of Castle Doom. Not a single weapon system targets the vehicle.

A massive hole shows exactly where something breached the building. Something massive.

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Elseworld Exiles

May 2008

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Exiles in Elseworlds

The Continuing Saga of Dimension-Hopping Do-Gooders

Recent Entries

Pasghetti and questions

On the other side of town

New York Times, morning edition

Times Square

I see Rainbows...

House Call

Make time for Daddy

Story time

In the Lensherr's Milk Kitchen

The Hotel Wundagore

(no subject)

Late Night

The City That Never Sleeps

In fair New York, where we lay our scene

The Crescendo.

Mount Rushmore.

If you can't beat them, beat their friends.

Avengers Headquarters

Science's Pursuit

Latveria

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May 2008

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