staturity:

Cassie had been having trouble sleeping ever since the second trimester and tonight was no exception. But she was too tired to do much more than open her eyes, shift around a little bit, and then close them again. She knew her body was hurting but at that moment she simply wasn't alert enough to wonder why. That is until she felt her water broke. Now that got her to wake up.

"Kristoff?" She grabbed his arm. "The baby's coming."

staturity:

A little over 8 months pregnant and Cassie was miserable. She didn't know how she hadn't gone crazy, considering she was still on bed rest. And even getting around in a wheelchair was harder now. Her back hurt. If she lay on her side for a long time it would go numb. And whenever she wanted to rest the baby would start kicking.

Well, that wasn't fair. The baby didn't always kick when she was about to sleep, just most of the time. This one was definitely active. At least the discomfort was worth it for the look on Kristoff's face. Cassie was pretty sure that the baby kicking would never get old for him, probably because he wasn't the one who had to deal with feeling it 24/7.

She loved this baby, really she did. She was just really, really looking forward to having the baby in her arms instead of her stomach.

awesome_andrea:

Andrea was reasonably certain of her choices regarding her future, though various probability forecasts has already come up with several things that could go catastrophically wrong.  The probability on those, fortunately, was rather low.  Success seemed far more likely.

She had already spoken to her father on the matter.  He, of course, had agreed to support her in whatever choice she made.  Comforting, though largely unhelpful.  But she ultimately did not wish to overly burden him.  He already felt badly enough for not being able to help her in the time she had become human and it had taken a great deal of convincing to keep him from coming to rip Vincent limb from limb.

Therefore, she needed another opinion in the matter.  Kristoff or Cassandra would do nicely, and thus she went to seek one of them out.

franklen_four:

It had been awhile since Franklin recovered from his coma, and he had been working on keeping himself in check.  Therapy every week helped him control his emotions better, although he was happy that his sessions were over in the coming week.  He sighed in relief and sat down in the kitchen with a hot mug filled with hot chocolate in front of him.  He made it himself, and it tasted particularly good.  The trade secret was two little baggies of the hot chocolate mix.

discardedheir:

Kristoff, after talking to Vincent and after confirming that all was going well with the cleanup and restoration of the transformed, went upstairs to check on his wife.

discardedheir:

He'd been able to tell Cassandra that Vincent was back, of course, but in their mutual exhaustion, there hadn't been time to truly discuss it until now, as, all other crisis-related business momentarily attended to, he came to their room with a tea-tray and a stalwart attempt at a smile.

franklen_four:


( We gather here today... )

staturity:

Cassie chewed a tablet of tums. "Come on, hurry up..." She muttered.

A few hours earlier Cassie had thrown up. That by itself wasn't too unusual. Everyone got sick every now and then and normally she would have ignored it. She would have if her period hadn't also been late. At first she chalked that to stress and her active lifestyle, which she probably should have known better. It wasn't like her birth control had ever failed before. 99% effective when used correctly her ass. O.K., maybe she'd accidentally skipped it sometimes but she was busy.

This was why she was alternating between looking at her stomach in the bathroom mirror and staring at the pregnancy test strip in her hand.

Five minutes later, somewhat in a daze, she walked out of the bathroom and went to find Kristoff.

nextgen_misc:

A man holding a piece of parchment stood in Times Square, the crossroads of the world, and read from the page. A spell was cast and the Montesi Formula, which once wiped out all vampires, was reversed. The all of the vampires that had been destroyed reformed right in front of the spell caster. They looked around for a few moments, confused about what had happened. Then the hunger took a hold and Times Square was full of humans with warm blood flowing through their veins.

discardedheir:

The morning of Saturday, November 14 dawned. With the whole Fantastic Four family there, the chairs and a few minor decorations for the empty 29th floor of the Baxter building were easily set up. The rest of the guests would be arriving soon, Cassandra's friends among the Avengers.

Jennifer Walters had been kind enough to recommend the judge. Their license was in order. The bride was with the maid of honor and there was no word of any problems at the moment.

By noon, Cassandra would be his, officially. Scotty, too, to an extent.
If any outsider prevented that, Kristoff was not absolutely certain he could keep himself from ...a display of excessively bad manners.

discardedheir:

Kristoff sat Cassandra down in a fairly comfortable seat amidst a bunch of lab equipment. Scotty was with his grandfather.

"As far as we have been able to ascertain, this is the situation: fortunately, the reason the neural encoding changes caused by the nanites seem to have taken so long after they were introduced to start affecting you is that they have to constantly maintain their effects; nothing has been permanently neurologically altered. So the gradual buildup of noticeable problems required some time. And once we use the right series of radiation to take the nanites out of the equation, there shouldn't be a risk of a serious negative reaction." Which was an incredible relief. Still... "Finding varieties of radiation which would do that without causing you any physiological damage has been difficult, and of course I'd rather err on the side of caution. But I've found a set of safe forms that I believe will be effective."

Assuming this worked, it would be the best conceivable birthday present to himself ever.

staturity:

Cassie folded her arms and looked at the Doom's "gift" for her and Kristoff's wedding. She waited long enough to be sure Vincent had left before calling Kristoff. It was time to get this over with quickly before something happened. If it happened. If. It might be harmless.

...Yeah, right.

"Kristoff? Can you come up" She called over the comm system.

staturity:

Getting shot was not an easy thing to recover from. Cassie was off the pain killers, walking around, and was going to be discharged fairly soon. Between worrying about physical therapy, Scotty, her upcoming wedding, and Kang, it wasn't that odd for Cassie to miss a few things.

But missing something like a funky looking snake tattoo on her ankle? She didn't know how that happened.

"What the frak?" She sat on her bed and pulled her foot up so she could get a closer look. Unfortunately that involved moving her ab muscles (seriously, was there any movement that didn't involve those muscles?). "Ow."

quitethecharmer:

Vincent carried the 'personal' mail for the building under one arm, having felt like picking it up himself for a change. All the usual papers related to fanmail went through scanning by HERBIE, and Kristoff's patent related mail went directly to his office. Just the usual light load from actual friends and relatives.

And... a package in plain brown paper, with no markings. It had a woodsy scent to it that prickled at Vincent's memory, making him uneasy. It had to have passed through security screenings to make it this far into the building, so he wasn't concerned about it being a bomb, not one of any mundane make anyway. He turned it over, and everything else he was holding slipped from his hands as he gripped it tightly, his nostrils flaring as he headed for his magical research lab.

The package bore the Latverian royal seal.

~~

Several hours of strenuous mystical testing later, he was convinced the package would do no harm, and opened it. Inside was a deerskin pouch, filled with coins. A simple piece of parchment with a simple note of Kristoff's impending marriage.

His... Kristoff's... their father had seen fit to send a traditional engagement gift. Vincent's jaw tightened and he was tempted to incinerate the present right then and there. How dare he throw Kristoff table scraps after all this time? Worse, what if Kristoff welcomed them? What if he wanted to invite him?

He shut the pouch and note inside a secure safe in the wall, then called Andrea. He wasn't planning on asking her advice, but he needed out of the building immediately.

staturity:

Fourteen long, painful hours of labor and the baby Cassie carried for nine months was in her arms at last. Everything was taken care of, she was wheeled into a private room, urged to sleep after such a long delivery, and left alone (well, mostly left alone, her father at least, had left). Really, she should sleep. She was exhausted. But she also had an adrenaline rush from hell.

Mostly, though, she didn't want to let go of her son.

It was funny, Cassie thought Scotty would look like Nate but she saw more of herself in him. Of course it was obvious who his father was, given away by the features of his tiny face, not to mention his dark skin and hair.

"Hey baby." She said softly.

Please don't let Kang show up now. Please God, please.

staturity:

It took six hours of surgery to fix the damage Kang's weapon caused. It was six more hours before Cassie was awake, and nearly half a day before she was well enough for the breathing tube to come out.

The doctors walked her through what they'd done and what to expect during recovery. She got off lucky, the doctors told her. They had no idea.

staturity:

Another morning, another day school day for Scotty.

The battle (and oh, that word was so accurate for it) to get her son out of bed was over. He was dressed, fed, and all she needed to do was drive him to school. He was still tired but usually by the time the drive was over he was alert and excited to be learning.

Today was just like any other day. Or so Cassie thought.

discardedheir:

The "axe-wielding maniac" had been active too close to the Baxter Building to escape the Fantastic Four's immediate attention.

And so here they are. And he was hardly difficult for them to contain, although he was obviously quite, quite fast which made taking him down less than immediate.

staturity:

Cassie hadn't visited Tony Stark in a while. She was overdue and she had some very important news to share. She followed the nurse to Stark's room and stood outside, looking in. She'd wait until she caught his eye before flashing him a view of her ring.

discardedheir:

She was so beautiful.
It was pretty much all Kristoff could think about as he kissed her again after his shirt hit the floor.
That and how much he wanted to make her happy, just to make her happy.
It certainly seemed to be going well, too. The strange tension she seemed to be under so much lately seemed to have been lifted. He was certainly doing his best to make her as comfortable as possible.
"I love you, Cassandra," he whispered.

cosmic_son:

Not needing to sleep is definitely a benefit in preparing for an event of this size. The tables have been laid out on the lawns since last night, the chicken has been marinating, the burgers and brats are laid out, and the giant multi-section grill is all laid out. But his real work has been on the ribs. His latest experiment in building on his culinary hobby, he started them with a black pepper and cajun spice rub, moved on to homemade bbq sauce of hot and sweet pepper mix, and has been slow cooking the ribs most of the night.

All is about ready as the time arrives for people to start arriving, and Jarvis and his helpers have most of the tables set and the salads, condiments and party trays laid out. Informed of the time, Iason starts laying out the rest of the meat in segregated sections, readying to serve the first arrivals.

staturity:

Nearly every girl dreams of being a queen at one point in their life. Cassie just never expected any of her dreams to be like this.
( That voice which calls to me and speaks my name. )

discardedheir:

Cassandra and Kristoff talked to Scotty. The boy'd had a lot to take in these past couple weeks, but this at least was good stuff.

And then, over the communication system. "Vincent? Andrea? While it is not an emergency, Cassandra and I would like to speak to you as soon as possible."

discardedheir:

They had been home from their ordeal for a little more than a week. Kristoff had spent a good portion of that -- when he wasn't checking on Cassandra and Scotty -- upgrading all of the Baxter buildings' defenses with great thoroughness.

He looks over his lab. Specifically at his most recently created...project.

At first, the shame welled up and he'd closed the box and shoved it in a drawer.

But that, he decided, was stupid. Enough hesitation. There would probably always be a good reason to wait longer. He slipped it into his pocket.

Then he fixed some tea. He brought it over to just outside the 'Lang Suite' of the building.

nextgen_misc:

The Fantastic Four’s new location was, as it had been last time, in the middle of a busy square. The architecture of the buildings was different, more advanced and with an oriental feel. There was a garden in the center of the square, well cared for and vibrant. Not very far from the square there was a Sphinx. If the unwilling time travelers at first assumed that they were In Egypt, they could not be faulted. However, there was a landmark that would place them in New York City: the Statue of Liberty. At least that was it had been. Now Lady Liberty was transformed, now bearing a striking resemblance to one member of their team: Cassandra Lang.

nextgen_parent:

With the right technology, the various offspring of Nathaniel Richards I were not terribly difficult to track down when he recalled their existence.

This time, he was after his favorite unacknowledged bastard. It had been more than a decade. The lad was doing well enough for himself, apparently. No more satisfaction about siring the absolute monarch of Latveria, though. Pity about that -- some sort of Matter of Honor, wasn't it? Boy must've gotten that from Mirela. Or, well, Doom himself, from a less genetic perspective.

But his thoughts were digressing again. Kristoff. And his little friends. In need of a visit. A treat. A bit of a warning. Currently in...the region of Orlando, Florida. Nathaniel, having prepared the equipment he'd need for this little excursion, materialized in one of the rooms of the resort suite in which they were staying. Seeing only Kristoff there, he at first said nothing and just smiled.

discardedheir:

It needed to be perfect. He'd original focused on the manipulation of pressure and temperature within a miniscule forcefield, but for the last few layers, he'd brought out the hydrocarbon gas for chemical vapor disposition.

He was still considering what metal to incorporate. Would titanium be inappropriate? Kristoff realized he had a slight bias towards using titanium for a lot of things. It needed more thought, and it wasn't ready for that part, anyway.

Not to mention the fact that the entire project might well be completely pointless.

Very optimistic, Dr. Vernard.

He reaches a safe shutdown point and stores the container away before going back to his room to dress for dinner.

quitethecharmer:

Vincent walked with Andrea into the common area, where they'd both called for their 'senior' teammates to join them. "Kristoff... Cassandra... there is something of importance both Andrea and I feel we should discuss with you." There was a calm resolve about him, but a somewhat sullen tone as well.

awesome_andrea:

Andrea paced nervously, various programs of differing weight and thought-strings running rapidly through her processor.  She was beginning to fear she was experienced cascade failure.  She was beginning to think she was defective.  She was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong with several of her systems.  Vincent had done some work on them, including putting considerable design effort into her "skin", but the bulk of the work and science work in general was done by Kristoff.

So she sought him out, using the Baxter Building's computer to locate him.  "Kristoff?"  she asked, as she approached.  "May I speak with you?"

awesome_andrea:

Andrea, to the untrained and unfamiliar eye, seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time watching television.  And it was true that she enjoyed television very much and did spent a lot of time watching it.  What this ignored, however, was her ability to multitask and process different strands simultaneously.

At this moment, for example, she was watching the news, using approximately 30% of her processing power to pay attention to it.  A full 40% of her processing power was devoted to her on-line education classes, including a portion devoted to research for an assignment.  A surprising 20% of her processing power was being devoted to Vincent, including several recursive strings that she did not fully understand and that had, in fact, begun to worry her to the point where she should likely ask Kristoff to run a deeper-diagnostic.  And the remaining 10% was devoted to basic systems funcationality.

All of which basically meant she could split her attention several ways without the loss of performance that an ordinary human might have.

Even still, it was several moments before the TV-watching strand connected with other parts of her processor, signaling a high-priority alarm. She redistributed her processing power to give her complete attention to the television.

"....amateur video from the random attacks on the Fantastic Four showcasing "Awesome" Andrea of the young Fantastic Four fighting the criminal know as the Thinker.  "Awesome" Andrea, also known as Andrea Denker, appears unusually effected by a localized electromagnetic pulse and then..."

The video continues, showing Andrea being decapitated (she shuddered at that memory), leaving a shower of sparks, circuits, and wires.

"This raises serious questions about the most mysterious and least-known member of the Fantastic Four.  Their public relations officer declined to comment when questioned earlier this week..."

Andrea's processing faculties largely failed to notice just how tightly she was gripping the arm of the couch.

quitethecharmer:

Vincent was pleased with himself. That wasn't anything out of the ordinary, Vincent was generally pleased with himself; but this was exceptional. His two childhood friends, his best friend and teammate, and his adoptive/extended family, all sitting down to dinner together. Granted, the Richards family and their lot weren't in attendance, but this was still very nice. Combining it with the fact that he'd picked them all up their dinners of choice from one of the city's best eateries was just icing.

Once they were all settled, and he'd explained how he'd met the wolf daughters, he made the 'official' introductions.

"And so... Moira and Danielle Hrimharisdottin... Kristoff Vernard, Cassandra and Scotty Lang, and 'Awesome' Andrea Denker." He gestured around the table with a bit of flourish, before sitting back down between Moira and Andrea.

nextgen_parent:

There were times when Nick Fury hated his job. Now was one of them. Stark and Tasha had been brought into S.H.I.E.L.D. medical not long after the bomb went off and had been immediately isolated. It wasn't good. Natasha had some third degree burns, a broken arm and a concussion. She got off lucky compared to her husband.

Stark was a lot worse than his wife. Third degree burns over most of his body, shattered ribs, punctured lung, compound fractures in one leg and one arm. It was amazing the man was alive. Though he had to give Stark credit. He had used his body to shield Tasha from most of the blast. Stark was in isolation, the bed surrounded by plastic and only people in sterilized outfits and masks could enter. The worst things about bad burns was the risk of infection.

Forensic teams were already going over the what was left of the car. Not that they would find much, but if they did find anything it could lead to the identity of the person trying to kill Stark. It was Stark's car and Nick had to believe he was the target and not Tasha.

Now came the hard part. Nick dialed his godson's number.

nextgen_misc:

"He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it." Clarence Budington Kelland

"It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father." - Pope John XXIII

"Fathers, like mothers, are not born. Men grow into fathers and fathering is a very important stage in their development." ~ David Gottesman

discardedheir:

Kristoff woke, very sore, head pounding. He was out of his armor, his hands restrained and locked behind his back. He hadn't ascertained what kind of lock yet, because he was busy noticing the other compartments. Separating everyone via transparent plastic was fairly...classic. He spotted Vincent first, apparently well; Kristoff was actually grateful just to see him even under the circumstances, with all he'd started to fear...
Cassandra, too, though she didn't seem to have regained consciousness, seemed essentially unharmed.
There wasn't a fourth compartment. Instead, outside any of the plastic confines, standing next to his own armor, was Andrea's body. And set beside Cassie was Andrea's head.

staturity:

Cassie waved at her son and watched him disappear from view into his school. Family stuff done, time for amateur sleuthing. She hadn't seen Kristoff yet today so he was either busy and didn't want to be bothered or... being Kristoff and didn't want to be bothered but probably should be.

She'd hold off calling him for now. First she wanted to go see her dad.

Ten minutes later and she had parked her car outside of her father's apartment and started walking for the door.

staturity:

Bad news always came when you were finally getting some time to relax, experience told Cassie this was true.

"Dad slow down you're not making any sense. What hap-" She paused and pulled on her hair with her free hand. "What? Where were you?" She was now pacing up and down the hall, intently listening to her father over the cell phone. "O.K. you were obviously set up. Do you know who might-" Another pause and she had to fight the urge to bang her head against the wall. "O.K., O.K., it's some sort of shape shifter, maybe a skrull or..." God there were so many shape shifting villains out there. Or people who could manipulate the recording themselves. "I'll find out I promise... Yes, I'll be careful... yes of course... Alright, I love you too." And end phone call. Cue wanting to scream very very loudly.

staturity:

Cassie Lang really didn't want to be here. It had been bad enough telling her dad. He hadn't yelled at her but she wished she had. His silent disappointment hurt more.

But she owed it to Kristoff to tell him in person. At the least they were friends and at most they were, well, something a lot more. Which was why she was here at the Baxter Building looking for him.

staturity:

It was time to visit her favorite Starklings and this time she wasn't going to beg Uncle Stark for money.

No, this was just another normal trip to Avengers Mansion... yeah right, since when was a trip to Avengers Mansion normal?

staturity:

It was the end of the school year and the last report card for little Scott's first grade. Good grades all around- As and Bs. There were some incidents that blackened the report but she all ready knew about those. She'd had a talk with Scotty about how he wasn't allowed to take apart the computers in the computer lab. She'd also had a talk with him about how he wasn't supposed to hit the other kids at school during recess. That she was more concerned about considering his father was... well...

But she'd gotten into fights as a child too. It was just one of those things. Right?

Right?

She really wished parenthood came with a manual.

quitethecharmer:

Vincent wandered his way into the common area on the 'kids' floor of the Baxter Building, sitting himself on the couch and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. He glanced over at the on the entertainment center. Seven a.m., Sunday morning. Not the worst time to be getting back from a good Friday night, and a better Saturday, he mused to himself. He noted some lingering lipstick on his shirt; have to remember to point that out when he dropped it at the cleaner's.

He picked up a general use organizer from the table, tapping in his personal identification. "Voice messages left since last checked?"

"Twenty two," the digital voice replied.

"Organizational code Amorason-five. Discount messages from colleges seeking my enrollment, research facilities or weapons manufacturers offering jobs, aspiring 'mages', or young women I have made implications to call back but have not for reasons of my choosing."

"No new messages," the voice amended. Vincent turned his attention away from the organizer, reaching for the television remote and queuing up recorded news broadcasts for the past 48 hours. He turned his attention back to the organizer. "H.E.R.B.I.E., order half a dozen bacon egg and cheese bagel sandwiches from Schlotsky's Deli. Two with meunster, four with cheddar. Three on asiago parmesean, three on poppyseed. Large mint tea with honey and two sugars. For delivery." He smirked. "Charged to Mister Grimm's tab. Memo - Inquire about his poker tab to 'the Doomling' if charge disputed." He sent the message to the building's robotic gopher, then put down the remotes and stretched his arms over his head, settling his hands at the back of his neck. He noticed the phone number written on the inside of one of his forearms. He doubted he'd write it down before he showered.

The news started up with some fluff piece on Central Park using falcons for rat control, and Vincent smirked. This was indeed the good life.

(:tag any other Fantastic types, visitors, or anyone who wants to call really:)