[identity profile] exiles-extras.livejournal.com
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.
[identity profile] certaindoom.livejournal.com
The homeland is not the land Doom loved anymore. It is as if he taught them nothing in his time as monarch, and they have happily begun to lap up the Richards doctrine like every other mongrel society willing to prostrate itself for the sake of new gadgetry.

There are parts of Latveria that even Richards has not discovered. That would be this mountain stronghold that Doom has guided this motley crew of minions toward, after magically rendering Grimm unconscious for the journey. It is Doom's intention that the Richards Regime never discovers the location of this secret base.

The sadly-labeled "Fantasticar" makes its landing suddenly, after plunging through cloud cover that seems now like a mystical illusion once they find themselves in the depths of this cavern.

"Disembark and follow me," comes the cold metallic vice of Doom, as he strides down the main corridor.
[identity profile] certaindoom.livejournal.com
Colonel Parker's crew of fools has been subjugated, and now Doom strides through the corridors, leading this motley assortment of fodder and strategically concealing the group from prying security eyes.

"Grimm," Doom says, in a condescending tone. "Do you have an adequate craft, or shall I summon my own?"
[identity profile] agentof.livejournal.com
The entry door of the hallway to Doom's cell slides open - revealing a very triumphant-looking Colonel Peter Parker, accompanied by ten agents in SHIELD garb - some of whom are entering by crawling on the ceiling or the walls.

Parker smiles. "I got you this time, Grimm. Richards and the council won't stand for this.."

He looks to his soldiers.

"Thompson, you take the pale metamorph - use the stunners. Hardy - get on Doom before he gets his bearings. Drew, on their 'Spider-Man'. The rest of you, pick opponents, take them down. Teamwork, people.."

Colonel Parker fixes his gaze on Sarah.

"I'll take the bulletproof one."
[identity profile] agentof.livejournal.com
It is said that the level of civilization in a society can be judged by how it treats its prisoners, and in the Science Council's utopia, that seems to be very well, indeed. The common prisons are clean, efficient places focusing on rehabilitation - low recidivism rates and humane conditions.

There is a special facility, though - designed for holding the most dangerous, incorrigible prisoners. Those with the highest risk of escape. The Vault is a highly-secure facility, staffed by semi-intelligent androids - programmed to maintain the facility and meet the prisoners' needs. Except, of course, the need for human contact.

General Grimm's clearance is faultless, and opens the automated doors without hesitation, revealing the row of reinforced doors that house the few prisoners deemed dangerous enough to place here.
[identity profile] proteus-maximus.livejournal.com
Morph leads the way down through the Baxter Building, towards temporary quarters that have been prepared for the Exiles.

"Nice fellows, but that could've gone better. I mean, the only girls in there besides the ones we brought with us were Parker's goons. Also, I don't think they were convinced. That's probably important too."
[identity profile] doc-richards.livejournal.com
The Baxter Building appears to have become the seat of the World Government - the top several floors are reserved as living quarters, laboratories, and meeting space for the Science Council that governs, with the affirmed consent of the people.

SHIELD fliers bring the Exiles to the top of the building in the light of day - the city of New York shining and clean below. President Reed Richards waits on the roof to greet them, dressed in plain business attire, along with a labcoat.

"Ben! Peter! So glad you could make it. I'm very eager to meet our guests - this is the first time we've had a whole group of transdimensional visitors."
[identity profile] agentof.livejournal.com
The flight, as advertised, is brief - slightly less than four minutes to reach the Helicarrier, ahead of the final moments of sundown. A sturdy room is arranged for Roxy, while the others are ushered into a pleasant but perfunctory briefing room, while medical technicians flit about, looking for signs of contagion.

The small assortment of magazines are soon supplemented with briefing folders - high level views of recent history, designed with interdimensional travelers in mind. Delivering the folders is a green-haired woman with an air of curt authority.

"I'm Special Agent Brand, Liaison to Offworld Visitors, amongst my other duties. I'm here to baby-sit you while we wait for the Director. I've got instructions to answer your questions to the best of my ability, provided there are no security implications."

The recitation of the speech gives the impression she does it just often enough for it to have become rote.

"We've got food here, if you require it. If you have special nutritional needs, let us know."

SHIELD agents, on cue, wheel in carts of food, fresh from the Helicarrier's cafeteria.

Pax Terra

Oct. 17th, 2007 10:25 pm
[identity profile] exiles-extras.livejournal.com
Another world, another dollar - the Exiles are enjoying a practical vacation one minute, and the next, they're being unceremoniously dumped in what appears to be Central Park. The New York skyline is visible all around, in the dim twilight - but it's taller, and shinier, than most would remember.

On a closer look, lines of hovercars flit in an orderly fashion around the building as workers return to their homes after a long day on the job.

The park, at least, is relatively untouched by the high-technology surroundings.
[identity profile] house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com
The carnage in the hotel ballroom disappears in a gut wrenching wave of nausea and blurryness. When she can see again, she's on her knees, surrounded by her fellow Exiles.

Raven braces herself for the worst. Zombies roaming the streets, the sun blotted out by swarms of locusts, a world where every restaurant is non-smoking. She opens her eyes and sees...a suburban strip mall.

A Best Buy anchors one end. The other end is held down by a Dick's Sporting Goods. In between, there are a couple of ethnic restaurants, some clothing stores, and, to her immense relief, a Cox Smoker's Outlet.
[identity profile] lehnsherr-erik.livejournal.com
Just moments before they had been toasting the joining of two families to create peace. Now things have fallen into chaos with fights breaking out and a motorcycle bearing a rider wreathed in flames crashing through the window.

This is exactly what was not supposed to happen, looks like Ramon will be losing a paycheck and if anyone loses a life maybe a lot more.

Erik has stayed back from the fighting to watch the patterns for the most part. A nudge of power here and there to protect people while he and the others are encouraging normal citizens to flee to area so this can be taken care of.

Scott Summers is somewhere fighting based on the flash and sound of his optic blasts firing.

There is so much going on that it's understandable he didn't notice at first. Several hundred magnetic signatures are hard to sift through even for him but there is one missing that should be there.

"Lorna!" He looks around to confirm visually what he already knows. "WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?"
[identity profile] lehnsherr-erik.livejournal.com
Erik has become very adept over the years at reading the currents of social events. This is something that took him a long time but he has slowly overcome his tendencies to dominate the room and become the force of the movements. Now he reads that the party has come to a natural pause and steps towards the front of the room to the stage. Someone nearby taps their fork against one of the champagne glasses and the pure crystal tone rings out in the room gathering everyone's attention.

"Greetings and welcome to all and thank you for coming. Today we celebrate the upcoming union of my daughter Lorna to her intended Alex Summers. It is our fondest wish today that you enjoy the festivities and become involved in every facet of the celebration so that you may share with us the happiness that we feel on this day." Most of his accent has been trained out over the years leaving him with a mellow tone that is almost musical to listen to. Today emotions are a little higher and along with his slightly unusual speech manner there is an audible hint of his beginnings in his voice.

"Lorna was a gift I never thought to receive after the blessings that I had already had in my life. From the first time she was laid in my arms she has always been a constant source of joy in my life. She is the child that I have been able to be near and raise from the moment she was born and I believe that her siblings and I have always felt incredibly lucky to have her with us.

She has always been our interpreter to the modern world in a way. Her ability to move through this world and understand all it’s interpretations through eyes untouched by war has been something very helpful to our family.

I am more proud of her than I could ever express to you.

I welcome her soon to be husband to our family and hope that he will be as much a teacher to us as Lorna. From this day on their new life together will evolve from a fresh beginning. During each day they will strive to grow and adjust to each other and establish a foundation for the home that is their marriage.”

He raises the pure crystal champagne glass he has held in his hand to Lorna and Alex with a smile slightly tinged with sadness. He would never express it in public but there is a feeling he wishes she could have a marriage of her own making as he had with Magda, but as that is never to be he will never let anyone else know of his wish.

“Join me in toasting Lorna and Alex and wish them a life of love, health and happiness.”
[identity profile] avengingarrows.livejournal.com
The Cornelia Marie is no stranger to the city's docklands. Every three weeks, she arrives at the pier with a fresh cargo of fish and shellfish for the city's restaurants and hotels. Her captain's biggest client? The Lensherrs, owners of the most successful chains in the city.

The shipments seem legit. But the Avengers have reason to believe other shipments may be piggybacking inside the crates; shipments that won't see the light of day.

Opium is a premium commodity on the street. This is what they're waiting for. Tonight, they get to blow the lid on this operation and finally get something concrete to nail the Lensherrs' collective asses to the wall.

At Pier Twelve, several Lensherr 'employees' in large black Buicks await the Cornelia Marie's captain and her illicit cargo.
[identity profile] 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."
[identity profile] 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.
[identity profile] 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.
[identity profile] 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.
[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.
[identity profile] 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.."

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.

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