no_relation:


John "Jack" Smith... well, he was pretty sure that was his name. It was one of the things he know; one of the very few specific things he knew. He could fill out crossword puzzles, he could set a table, he could tie his shoes, he could tell time, he knew what times of day were harder to hail a cab, but nothing specific. There was no personal history in his head.

Of course, right now he was a little more concerned with the fact that he'd just flung someone across a room, pulled a costume from out of nowhere, and now was flying across down on lines he shot out of his arms. Normal people don't do this! Not even amnesiac normal people!

The fact that his instincts are telling him this is supposed to be happening is what freaked him out more than anything else.

He could tell he was supposed to be doing something, but what was it?

And why were all these people yelling 'Hey! Spidey!' at him?

( Read more... )

(joint-posted with permission from Beth)

circle_of_seven:

Asgard had seen a rare period of peace. That peace was about to be shattered. Dark forces gathered in a far corner of the realm. Trolls, dark elves and giants fathered their forces and prepared for an assault on the city and the cursed Asgardians.

Soon the city would fall and Asgard would be theirs to rule.

Alfun looked at the assembled troops and smiled. They would make a great distraction. Alfrun knew they wouldn’t succeed in defeating the Asgardians and taking the city. Countless times they have tried and failed. The Asgardians always won.
Until today. The troops were a distraction until the real weapon could be brought onto the battlefield. With the two, the Asgardians would fall. This would be their Ragnarok. The final battle for them.

Alfrun ran her fingers lovingly over the parchment. How very nice of that dwarf to give her this wonderful piece of parchment. With it she could bring about the downfall of Odin, Thor and the rest of Asgard. Then she, Alfun daughter of Eisa and granddaughter of Loki, would sit upon the throne of Asgard as queen.

“Send them!” she said. “I have to start the ritual.”

Treg grunted and then bellowed orders. The troops started moving.

nextgen_misc:

The actions of one man had an effect all around the world. People once dead returned to the land of the living.

franklen_four:

Blackheart.

Franklin knew exactly who that was, and where to find him.  If there was any description for rage, it would be whatever Franklin was feeling then.  His hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles turned white.  Bubbling, no- boiling rage was inserted into his very being, and he decided that all Hell was going to break loose to express it.  He levitated first, and then flew high into the sky which turned black and red.  In all of his rage, Franklin turned the sky into the entrance to Hell.  The wasteland no living person was ever meant to see was displayed above New York City.

The news stations were quick to see the changes in the sky, and they managed to get video footage of Franklin flying straight through into the dimensional portal.  But that was none of his concern, really.  Franklin's focus was on finding Blackheart, and he did search Hell for just that one being.