[identity profile] 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.
[identity profile] 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.

Latveria

Mar. 12th, 2007 09:14 pm
[identity profile] 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.
[identity profile] wwii-hero.livejournal.com
This is a world much like others.  A world of heroes and villains.  A world where, shortly after the founding of the Avengers, the team found a hero from World War II, frozen in ice for 50 years.

Bucky Barnes.

Shortly after joining the team, his old foe Zemo -- the one who killed his old partner, Captain America -- kidnapped Rick Jones to lure Bucky to his death.  In the confrontation, Zemo drew a disintegrator ray and shot at Bucky, who dodged... and accidentally allowed the teenage Jones to be destroyed.  If he had his partner's indestructible shield, and had blocked that ray instead, who knows how things might have changed?

Without Jones, the being known as the Hulk devolved rapidly, until during the Secret Wars, the Beyonder separated the three minds within it into distinct beings -- and the savage Hulk unleashed on the world caused a split within the Avengers.  The West Coast organization reported directly to the Government, while the East Coast organization remained independent -- with further animosity caused by Bucky, now calling himself Patriot, and the new Captain America, John Walker.

With such a conservative new face for Captain America, the plight of the mutants went unheeded by the general populace, and though the Avengers aided the X-Men against the Sentinel Revolt, most mutants were killed, and the remainder went deep into hiding.

All these events are in the unclassified Avengers East file-logs, available to the Exiles here on the base.  Patriot has confirmed their status as extradimensional beings, and his own instinct assures him that Crusader, at least, is the offspring of Steve Rogers, trained in hand-to-hand combat by the original Captain America himself.

Here in the Avengers Mansion, they have access to beds, showers, good food, access to the media... and any other basic necessities they might require.
[identity profile] hulksmashed.livejournal.com
The Exiles have made their jump... and they don't even get a chance to breathe.

As soon as they appear, in a hot, acrid desert with a highway nearby, the ground rattles with the impact of something.

A quick turn will reveal a gigantic green man standing in a crater of his own making.

His fists raise, and slam into the ground again, cracking the very earth in half beneath their feet.
[identity profile] spidey2099.livejournal.com
They agreed on when and where to meet, when the time came. Hopefully, they're all meeting now, and he's prepared for the headache that he'll get from being harangued for being late.

It's been good, these last couple months, to just get away from those annoying people and come to terms with the utter nastiness of that vampire world. He's gotten a tan, beneath the costume, thankful he hasn't shared his identity with anyone yet. Once the costume was off, they couldn't follow him.

It's some form of dread he feels, in reminding himself that he's stuck tumbling through time playing go-fetch for a little fat guy in a bow tie. He's busied himself by scouting their location - the light switch they have to flip looks like a surprisingly easy task. Security is minimal - probably some mad scientist moron taking advantage of a place that calls itself "Paradise" - ungodly egocentric, as they still have combustion engines.

The food, thoug... good god, everything tastes so much better. Everything tastes.

It's only an hour or so, now, until the switch needs to be flipped. Best get re-acquainted with the crew.
[identity profile] house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com
Raven knocks on Allison's door. Shopping with Kevin was a blast. That pawn shop clerk will never look at Hello Kitty the same way again. But while they're not being stalked by animated rocks or mutant vampires, there are some things on her list it's best if he not know about. Things another professional will understand.
[identity profile] spidey2099.livejournal.com
The dark world of vampires has just been lightened.

They don't get much time to find out what happens next.

Instead, the team is dumped unceremoniously onto an empty beach near a vast sea. If not for the mask, Spider-Man would be swallowing a mouthful of sand.

Still, he blinks, eyes shifting around suspiciously.

Waiting for monsters... waiting for something to go horribly wrong.
[identity profile] rogue-starsr.livejournal.com
This place is horrible. Even without the insanity taking place with the others, Sarah has passed dozens of horrorshows. Monsters made from people she knew, or heard stories of. Mockeries of everything she was brought up to revere.
The further she goes, the more grateful she is that she ended the life of the Panther. And the fact she can be grateful for killing something sentient, even if it was a twisted monster, sickens her to her core, getting worse the further she goes. With every foot she flies into this place, the more sure she is its going to consume her utterly.

And the more determined she is that it will end.

And then maybe someday she'll stop hearing the screams, the pleas for death or life or freedom and the insane ramblings. Maybe someday she'll stop hearing babies crying somewhere in the distance within this terrible place. And maybe she'll stop hearing the sound of bones breaking, and a living form going still under her fists.

For now, it has to end. That thought drives her through the torment, and through walls, through doors, through every soulless thing that gets in her way. Emplate should be glad he can teleport... Sarah is. One more life she doesn't have to be the one to take. The Storm Queen... that may be something else, because in as straight a line as the teenage juggernaut can manage, the throne room is her destination.
[identity profile] canadiansixpack.livejournal.com
He smelled them. The familiar scent drew him like a bee to honey;melting away from the Queen while she consulted Marius. He has been a lurking shadow since then, out of sight, biding his time with the self-proclaimed promise of violence. He knew they were far from fond of each other, and now they are in disarray while the blood of Yeshua coats the stone floors in a macabre mosaic of Mystique's making.

Now, when their alliance hangs by the most precarious of threads, is when he strike; and he will take her out, the strongest first.

Teeth and claws, bone and flesh, reveal themselves in split-second anticipation of deadly impact.
[identity profile] marvel-citizens.livejournal.com
The catacombs under the castle feel more like a hotel than a dank cellar. The walls are a pleasant pastel blue, hung with paintings of African landscapes and idyllic pastoral scenes. A rich, sunny, indirect lighting fills the hallway. Regularly spaced doors lead off to small rooms. Each one has three coffins, one along each blank wall. One room has a set of matching tapestries hanging above each coffin. The next is decorated with vintage Coca-Cola advertising. The one after that looks like the inside of a Jackson Pollack painting.

There are no shadows, no dark corners; nowhere to hide.
[identity profile] marvel-citizens.livejournal.com
Roberto's body sings with energy. He's never channeled so much power without release. Despite Dazzler's light shows, the world around them dims for five meters in every direction from his body. He can't hold much more. Soon, it will burn through him and over him and consume everything he touches.

Once he's inside.
[identity profile] marvel-citizens.livejournal.com
Roberto DaCosta rolls out a well-worn laminated architectural map. Some areas have been drawn on so often the wax pencil is permanantly inscribed. He scrubs off as much as he can using the hem of his shirt.

"I wish I could call the Storm Queen cocky, but that would imply she doesn't know exactly what she's doing. You can find one of these in every village in North Africa. Anyone who wants to see the Queen is welcome to visit. Just don't expect to come back."

Someone used permanant marker to write names in specific hallways; Pete, Meggan, Jono, Piotr, Illyana, Tessa, Wanda, Erik, Pietro. Roberto pulls out a marker and carefully writes in Dani and Sooraya. He pauses, staring for a moment at Dani's name, then closes his eyes and stands.

"People who think their children could be Barons some day take them through the front door." His voice drips with bitterness. "People who think they can steal something usually try the back passage. This one has a coin slot to open the door." He taps the map. "Last time, I went in here, through the servant's kitchen." He scowls. "They actually offered us a bowl of soup. The masters don't like it when the prey is too hungry. We give out too soon."

A vein on his forehead starts to twitch.

"We're going in here. Through the catacombs. If I save my power - and if Dazzler's 'battery effect' works, we can take out the weaker of them at the start. The fewer we have to fight the better."
[identity profile] house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com
The rebel lair's outer door opens, revealing a black sillouette of a figure.

Mystique pulls two guns, instantly levelling them at the sillouette's chest. "Is he with you?" It's too tall and lean to be James, but she's still pushed the remaining grenade out of her chest and into her lap. Just in case.
[identity profile] silver-sable.livejournal.com
The fortress itself isn't a bad choice of places where you could hide out. It is obviously hidden. There is water that isn't easily taken away from them. Who ever built this place was thinking - it is relatively easily defended and is generally hard to find. Some dictator of whatever nation this once was much have had it built.

Once there were paintings and priceless objets d'art here. Now there is a mishmash of modern state of the art technology, along with obviously hand woven rugs and curtains. The other halmark of this place is that almost everything here looks as though it is easily packed and portable. As if these people have had to pick up and run at a moments notice.

There are people here and they obviously look to the woman in grey as a leader of a sort, some of them relaxing some as she shows up and some of them tensing as she shows up, depending on the person. Silver leads this entire party into a main room of sorts, a table here looking as though it has seen better days but it is entirely servicable still.

"So." Silver looks generally upset but it doesn't seem as if that is anything out of the ordinary for her. Corssing her arms over her chest, she looks at the group of assembled new people and her lips flatten further. "You're obviously not from around here. Someone competant give me a quick synopsis of what the hell you're doing here and why you're trying to get all of us killed."

On the run

Aug. 27th, 2006 01:10 pm
[identity profile] house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com
Raven's still holding a grenade when this parody of James disappears. There isn't much time. Once his face heals, he'll be back.

She picks up her hand, and more importantly, the gun it was connected to. The kids don't need to watch this. She turns her back to them and opens a rough funnel into her stomach. She's lost a lot of mass and needs some quiet time to do internal repairs. No point wasting useful supplies.

"Alright. Let's get back to the compass and find where it's leading us. If the location is secure enough..." no point going there. They'll be alive until his notoriously short attention span is distracted by something else. "Move."

The Hunt

Aug. 23rd, 2006 10:27 pm
[identity profile] canadiansixpack.livejournal.com
Shadows are lengthening, tendrils of night creeping up on the landscape. The recent rains have left the air rough with the humid stink of rotting forest vegetation, animal fur, tree bark and blood: fresh, dark, and glistening wetly on bracken.

The claws withdraw slowly, lethal bone knives wreathed in scarlet ribbons. The man's body sinks to its knees, bloodshot eyes rolling back in his head. Beside him lie the dismembered remains of his son and daughter; scavengers already waiting in the wings with sunken, hungry stares, but too wary of the strange predator who remains standing in their midst to approach.

The only sounds are a wet gurgle and a cushioned thump as the man finally slumps sideways to join the remainder of his family. Then, a warning rumbled to the gathering animals eager for a piece of the action.

No. He gets the prime cuts. He is the alpha - out here.

Before he can sate himself, Logan's nostrils flare suddenly as they instinctively reassess the scent on the air. There's something profoundly different out here, somewhere. Something alive. Something new.

Something that can be hunted.

Fresh kill forgotten, he deliberately and carefully licks the blood from his claws, savoring the iron tang in his mouth; then, in the blink of an eye, he's vanished into the encroaching darkness.
[identity profile] house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com
"NO!" Mystique screams at the sky. "NO! NO! NO! I want a T.G.I. Fridays! I want a P.F. Changs! I want a J. Alexanders! I want food with initials first and dessert last and a waitress who never lets my beer run dry!"

She falls to her knees, cradling her head.

They've fallen out of the desert and into a gorgeous portrait of pastoral life. They're on a well maintained packed-dirt road; no potholes, but likewise no signs of paving. A lush green field of waist-high wheat stretches from their left to the horizion. The road seems to lead to a pre-industrial villaige to the north and a mountain range to the south. The mountain is sheathed in a thick layer of cloud that seems to go a unusually far towards the ground.

Mystique pulls out a bent cigarette and lights up, glaring hatred at the universe.

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