|
Some Downtime (While Bucky is talking to Tasha)
|
Oct. 4th, 2009 @ 01:15 am
|
|---|
|
Quinn was enjoying the few moments of downtime they seemed to have been blessed with by spending it out in Moscow. While he wasn't a mutant, he could pass himself off as one if needed. Only a telepath or a genetic scan would prove he wasn't one. First order of business was getting some cash. That meant a little transmutating of some stones into rubles. He was not above using magic for his own benefit.
With money in hand he set out and found the closest bar. Beer would have been nice, but the bar apparently only had watered down crap and Quinn was a beer snob. He only drank good beer and what the bar had was definitely not good beer. The burger was good and so was the vodka.
Once he was done eating, he headed for the closest clothing store and bought himself two new sets of clothes and a bag to carry them in. No way was he going to be stuck wearing the same outfit as they hopped from dimension to dimension. He would have bought a few pairs of shoes, but they were bulky and a pain to carry. His current ones were okay for now.
He headed back to the hotel.
|
|
Acts of Avenging, pt. 2 - Mother Russia
|
Sep. 2nd, 2009 @ 09:27 am
|
|---|
|
The teleportation is far easier this time. Russia is a very, very big place, and there's no magical barriers or resistance.
In fact, there's not a lot of anything. Looking around the area where they come in, remote, in order to avoid notice, it would look like the village that was once here was struck with a bomb, save nothing is burnt. A wave of destruction radiates out from a central point, and everything from there is demolished. The foundations of houses sit bare, with wreckage strewn away from them. The signs of at least two mass graves aren't that well hidden not far away from the village. A few hastily put together crosses of sticks line the sites now, but this village is lifeless. A wooden sign, far enough on the outskirts to have survived whatever hit this place can still be read, at least by those who speak Russian.
Anzhero-Sudzhensk, population: 86,480
With all the flat land, in the distance on direction, the signs of cobbled together stick and cloth hovels can be seen, a few figures moving about, never staying out in the open too long. Much more distantly the opposite direction, the faint radiance of lights of what has to be a massive city can be somewhat discerned, but the place must be massive to be at all evident at this distance.
Sarah rises a bit off the ground for a slightly better view. "Gods. This is horrible."
|
|
Welcome to Latveria Hope you Enjoy Your Stay
|
Aug. 3rd, 2009 @ 05:32 am
|
|---|
|
Quinn was getting a lot better with his accuracy when teleporting. He had managed to set them down a few hundred yards outside of Doom’s castle. The last two attempts had been rather successful. The ones before had been failures as he had teleported himself a few miles away from where he had been aiming.
They were still invisible, but Quinn knew Doom would know they were here soon enough. Not much got past Doom, at least the one he knew and he didn’t think this one was too different. “Let’s get moving,” he said as he tried to ignore the dull throbbing in his head. He’d kill for a beer right now.
|
|
The more things change...
|
Jun. 2nd, 2009 @ 10:17 pm
|
|---|
|
The Exiles all find themselves transported from the desert to... well, another part of the desert.
In the middle of this flat area, however, an area of tiled floor sits, with a chalkboard set up on one edge. And all the Exiles sit in old-style school desks, mostly a little too small for them, wedged in however much needed.
A balding man stands by the chalkboard, waiting patiently for everyone to settle in and pay him heed after the sudden change of surrounds.
"Welcome... or welcome back, as the case may be. Coffee? Muffins?"
|
|
I've been through the desert...
|
May. 28th, 2009 @ 05:47 pm
|
|---|
|
One moment she felt her lips on Anya's. It was a dream and nightmare come true, each in their own ways. The Talus sent a jolt up her arm, and suddenly instead of everything she'd gotten so used to, and the feel of her best friend and crush next to her, she felt warm wind, and a bright light made her shield her eyes against a scorching sun.
She knew right where she was. Back in the desert where everything had gone so horribly wrong. Even as alike as most deserts ended up, she somehow just knew.
Sarah sinks into the sand, drawing her knees up to her chest and settling her head on her knees, trying to collect her thoughts, trying hard not to cry, trying to be pulled together when someone else showed up.
The Timebroker can wait.
|
|
|
![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}