crescentdart:

Seth was telling Ryan to do a lot of stuff in his head. Which in turn let to him yelling at him to shut up or he would spend the night helping little old ladies cross the street. Besides he already had plans for the night that would cause quite a deal of chaos and he didn't need some asshole deity telling what to do.

Blowing up the UN was hard enough without someone trying to backseat drive through it all. Sneaking into the UN and planning the bombs wouldn't be too tough but timing it just right so the explosion could cause the most amount of chaos would be tough.

But he had a plan for when to do that that he knew was foolproof. Well as long as everyone played their parts like expected.

magic_hands:

Martin adjusts his hat and grins. They were going to visit Dr. Strange! He didn't get to go to Earth's dimension often, and there was so much fun to do with magic. Even better? Clea would be escorting them there which meant for the first few days? Lots of long errands (which they generally ignored) and no supervision!
What should we start with? I hope we stay long enough to finish our fun stuff to-do list.

anyastark:

Lady Mandarin ruled most of the Asian underworld with an iron, well it was really molecularly aligned matrix of crystallized iron enhanced by magnetic fields over layers of other metals like titanium, fist. She had thwarted attempts by Stark and her pathetic excuse of a brother, disposed of Temujin at the first opportunity and took control of his resources. She started to expand her criminal empire to encompass almost all of Asia. Her next step would be making inroads into North America.

She stopped in front of the holding cell and looked at the occupant.

toni_rhodes:

Some five possible years hence...

Anya Stark was always in demand.  For speeches, for technology consultations, for charity functions, for the good work her company did, for any number of other things.  

She was posed, perfect, and practiced when the situation called for it, though occasionally much was made of her sounding a little "rehearsed" and occasional snipits of private conversations revealed a dialog that was a little more "street" than one might expect out of a rich white girl.  But she was still a rising star who was only going to continue to rise higher, and seldom seen without the company of her good friend, Antoinette Rhodes.  Rumors aplenty had been made of a secret lesbian relationship between the two, but no proof had ever surfaced, and both had been seen on the arms of various men anyway.  Though much had been made of it when Ms. Rhodes had been seen dating the Rogers boy previously thought to be with Anya.

Yes, Anya Stark had it all.  Money, fame, friends, a fabulous jet-set lifestyle...

Anya Stark was, in fact, a complete fraud.  It was on her mind after every speech, every company presentation, such as the one she had just left, returning to her office to meet with "Ms. Rhodes."

Because Anya Stark was not, in fact, Anya Stark.  She was, and had been for the last five years, Toni Rhodes.  Ever since the would-be Mandarian had kidnapped her while in Anya's body and had stolen the ring.  They could have recovered it, could have still found it in time to return to their proper bodies, if he had not used it to turn himself into a virtual god, whose defeat had destroyed him and it completely.

But for the sake of the company, the public, and the general welfare of the world (the idea of body switching becoming common knowledge was not a good thing)... they had had to begin an elaborate game of pretend.  One which still continued to this day.

It had cost them both so much.  There were so few people with whom they could actually be their true selves.  What might have been a wonderful relationship for her had been cut down before it could even begin.

It was a lie.  A life of lies.  But she tried to tell herself it was for the best, and not to cry when she looked in the mirror and failed, as she always did the first time, to remember that that was her.

She opened the office door, slipping inside.   "Ugh.  Jackals."

your_talents:

To hell with both of those narrow-minded creeps, Lisa Graves thought to herself as she hopped off the back of the truck shed hitched a ride on. She was sixteen, she was a mutant, and as of yesterday, she was disowned.

There hadn't been any ranting. No being locked in the basement or shipped off to some camp. She had simply come home from school to find the locks changed, a packed bag on the porch, and a slip of paper with the address and access code for storage unit where the rest of her things could be found.

She choked down her rage and frustration as she made her way down the last mile of road towards the Xavier school, pressing the intercom at thr front gate.

"Hello? My name is Lisa. Someone told me you help mutants here."

brit_sorcerer:

Quinn started at the paper in his hand. Married. Apparently Alice and he got married while they were in Vegas. Funny. He didn't remember getting married. Then again he didn't remember much from that night. Just that they drank. A lot. There were some fuzzy memories of fantastic sex, but that was about it.

"Well." He looked at Alice. "Now what do we do, luv?"

butterflybullet:

It had been a freak accident. Some kind of short-circuit of energy signatures, Dr. Vernard had said when he examined them. The point was that Jon had been dragged here with them from his own facet of reality, and his energy signature was so disrupted that even that dimensional teleporter Mrs. Stark had called in couldn't send him back there. They'd really tried everything, but had finally given up.

And then, there was the other thing.

"So... do you want to tell him?" Vernique asked Svalin as she sat holding her hand on the bed. In Svalin's other hand was the test, clearly positive.

anyastark:

Anya looked at the latest addition to the Avengers' memorial garden. She wanted to cry, but she had spent the past year crying over Steve's disappearance. They didn't know if he was ever coming back and had decided it was time to put up a memorial plaque in the garden.

She sighed heavily. Steve was gone and life moved on. Maybe it was time for her to do the same. She didn't want to, but she couldn't wallow in this forever.

She gently placed a hand on the plaque. "I love you, Steve. Goodbye."

anyastark:

The alarm rang and a fist came out from under the covers and slammed down on the alarm clock. It was waaaaaay too early to get up. Anya had stayed in the lab way too late of course and morning was already here. She wasn't sure what time it was when she stumbled up to bed, but it hadn't been that long ago.

Anya considered her options. Get out of bed and go to class or sleep and worry about class later or possibly tomorrow? Right now the latter was the better option and the one she was planning to go with. Staying in bed all day was a nice option.

discardedheir:

Kristoff Vernard, age 22, didn't leave his lab for a long time. He wasn't sure he could handle the humiliation.

"I'm so sorry," she had said. "It's not that I don't care for you, but I'm fairly sure I could never marry you."

The small bottle of Latverian brandy had been a birthday gift he'd been saving for a special occasion. It was empty now.

digthefuzz:

Midnight wasn't sure what happened to his handlers. Normally they would be following him, foolishly believed he wasn't aware of them. He'd learned to keep a very close eye on the men and women that had taken him. Fifteen years ago he'd been snatched right from the airport by the men pretending to work for the government. He'd been taken to a facility where every question, disobeyed order, or sign of weakness got him pain. They trained and drilled him relentlessly, making sure he could flip, run, steal, sneak, climb, and fight. And when his abilities over DarkForce appeared, he'd been trained in those as well. They wanted a fighter. A killer. They got Midnight, a young man that had been sent to do many thing. Stealing valuable items and information, kidnapping, and even murder. And through it all, he was used to having two or more handlers that would follow him. They would never help. Only chase him down if he strayed from the mission, collect payment from whoever had bought his services, and drug him before dragging him back to the dark room he was left in when not being drilled or on an assignment.

But today there were no signs of them. No vans, no people that kept showing up no matter where he went, nothing. The whole assignment was an odd one to begin with. Go to some hotel in Upstate New York and wait for further orders to arrive. He didn't question it though, not wanting a beating. Orders were waiting for him when he woke up, resting on his nightstand. The fact that someone had slipped in and got so close to him without waking him up unnerved Midnight but he followed his orders anyway.

And now he's sneaking into the Xavier Institute. The orders had detailed how to get in without setting off the external alarms but he was on his own once inside. Dressed in that tight black uniform that covered everything but his tail and oddly shaped hands and feet, he slipped into a window that had been left open and ended up in a recreation room. Unaware of any internal alarms or telepaths that would detect his intruding, Midnight slowly began to search out the people he was supposed to attack.

marvelkid:

Wally knows the others are downstairs. The rest of the team. He knows that they're all gathered in the meeting room listening to the team's mages and a few other magic using heroes tell them exactly what's been going on for the past six months. But he doesn't leave the roof of the mansion. They'll be up there soon enough to confront him.

He was aware his powers had been growing beyond the ability of the NegaBands to completely control. Or at least part of him was. And while that same part of him wanted desperately to ask his friends for help...to find some way to regain control...certain darker aspects of Wally's mind...parts that had been affected by that same chaotic power...kept him quiet. For six months, he'd been pretending everything was fine while those darker parts of his mind subtly unleashed bits of chaos magic that influenced quite a lot. Some teammates had left and been replaced with people from other teams...some relationships had been ruined and loves broken and replaced with others...unexplainable events like an attempted invasion by a renegade Sh'iar cult and a battle with alternate universe duplicates had occurred and more. It was all small stuff that made sense if one didn't look too closely at it. After all it had happened at random...nothing connecting it really and nothing to make anyone suspect Wally was behind it all. Then the Chaos Wave occurred.

He's lost the bands during a fight and his magic went out full force, turning New York City into a practical hell of random chaos and destruction. And while the Wave had been undone the moment Wally recovered his NegaBands...the whole incident made everything his growing power had done light up like a Chistmas tree to those with mystic awareness. It showed that he might just one day go completely out of control and do much worse.

Now he just had to worry what would happen next. Would the team be angry with him for not telling them while his powers influenced them and others? Would they try to help? Would the just attack? Or would something else happen? He didn't know...so he waited. There was some yelling downstairs so he was pretty sure it wouldn't be long until something happened.

anyastark:

Lady Mandarin was quite pleased. The Mandarin's kingdom was expanding and his rule over the underworlds of Asia, Europe, the Middle East and North America was expanding. His empire was vast and his rule absolute. She was his consort and an extension of his will. She was his tool to use as he saw fit.

Her life was for him to use and she was happy to serve him. He had given her life meaning and purpose. He was all that existed. She had a family once, she remembered them quite clearly, but they meant nothing to her. The Mandarin had forbidden her to go near them or try destroy them. He said the time to destroy them would eventually come and she was looking forward to that day.

She looked at her reflection in the full length mirror. The Chinese style dress she wore hugged her form and accented her enlarged stomach. She placed a hand on her stomach and felt the tiny life inside pushing at the constraints of its small world. She smiled. The Mandarin's heir would be born soon. Her greatest duty would soon be fulfilled.

sydney_ashcroft:

Sydney hummed an upbeat tune while she cleaned and chopped carrots for a salad. The classes she taught today had gone very smoothly. She only had a few more weeks to go and she would have her masters in Ancient History. In the fall she'd be starting on her doctorate. Life was going very well for her and she was a happy woman.

She glanced at the clock. It was only four thirty. Zoey was in the rec room watching cartoons and Avery wouldn't be home for at least another hour. Which mean she still had time to think of something to make for dessert. She was thinking about brownies. There was plenty of time to make some and they would go great with the vanilla ice cream and topped with melted peanut butter.

The carrots were tossed in the bowl of salad and she toss the knife and cutting board into the sink. She glanced at the muted television. Huh. LA now had its own team of superheroes judging by the headlines. She didn't think San Francisco would get a team anytime soon. Which was fine in her book. They didn't need villains and heroes alike destroying parts of the city.

She grabbed a box of brownie mix from the cabinet and started collecting the items and ingredients she would need.

lytaworthington:

The Dark Rider Lyta Worthington flew over the citadel.

They had tried to defeat them. The Avengers and the X-Men had gone against the Horsemen and the Dark Riders, thinking that could DARE to challenge them and the Lord Apocalypse, and they had failed.

A number of the upstarts had been killed in the battle. Some had escaped, but she and her fellow Riders would hunt them down...and do to them what they did to their teammates. There were some, that they had captured. Those...they would make an example of. The whole world had to know that anyone who dared to oppose the Lord Apocalypse was doomed to fail.

Lyta touched down on the ground. It was a new age under Apocalypse, and she felt honored that he chose her to be a part of it.

shessomarvelous:

Grace Williams, the hero and Avenger known as Ms. Wonder, flew over New York City.

Life couldn't be better right now. She great friends and teammates that were always there for her, it was her senior of high school, and best of all, she had two loving and supportive parents that would always love her. That being the daughter of two well-known superheroes, one of them being a famous movie star? People looked at you in a different light. Grace got a little annoyed with the star treatment all the time, but sometimes (like the free spa days and coffees at the Starbucks down the street from Avengers Mansion), it really wasn't that bad.

Grace flew over the city, figuring she'd get a good patrol in before heading back to Avengers Mansion and maybe seeing if a couple of them wanted to go see a movie or go to a club.

quitethecharmer:

Vincent Amorason, mage in practicum, glared out the window of his keep in Asgard as a horse flew by, the clash of metal following it. It wasn't actually his keep alone, but it was his private study at the sorcery school. He had mastered every course put before him ever since his mother petitioned for his placement, despite reservations by the leaders of the school. Now he was at the top of his classes... and the only male in the entire school. In a strange coincidence, it was the first time for only one male to have been in attendance since Loki himself attended the school.

Not that that part bothered him much. He had his pick of charming young sorceresses, and girls outside the school, to spend his time with. He'd never needed anything in the way of magic to glamor them. He smirked to himself, but the satisfaction was fleeting.

Although he had a small handful of friends unconcerned with his lineage, murmurs of 'half blood' and 'witchspawn' always seemed to drift around him. More than that, while sorcery commanded respect in Asgard, it did not command adoration. Cheers rose up with each practice bout down in the courtyard for the warrior school. He seated himself in the window, looking down on them as he bit harshly into an apple. There. Central to all the glory, companionship, and respect Asgard had to offer. Lord Thor's warrior children. Accomplished alumni of the warrior school and celebrities to every oaf with no greater aspirations in life than to swing a weapon and splinter shields and bodies.

He spared a moment to mentally congratulate himself on making the sleeping poison's taste vanish entirely. It wasn't meant to take effect for an hour yet, so he had plenty of time to uncork a bottle with the antidote and take a few drops as needed. For all his venom towards the Thorspawn, he was not so foolish as to make a move against them. The poison was an intellectual exercise, although perhaps it could be put to some use for Moira and Danielle, baiting ambushes. It had become a long-standing game of theirs for him to add a bit of magical tactic to their small hunts.

A messenger imp fluttered into the chambers, shrieking noisily before it dropped a parchment into Vincent's lap and vanished.

Mother. She could just as easily have channeled the message, or sent a living messenger; but then she would hardly be Amora if she did.

He unrolled the paper and scowled. What did she want him at home for now? He pitched the remainder of the apple into the fire, swirling his cloak around him to transport him home. Whoever it was he was meant to meet had best be worth his time.

anyastark:

The rain came down in buckets and the water sluiced down the long overcoat she wore. It had been raining all day, but it didn't stop her from coming here. It was only water and she needed the small measure of comfort this place brought her. She still came here as frequently as she since last June.

Drenched to the bone, she stood there with a bouquet of flowers in her hand. Today they were tulips and daffodils. Spring flowers. Signs of rebirth. Signs of hope and promise in a place that held neither.

Tears spilled from her eyes only to be washed away in the rain.

"I miss you," she said barely above a whisper to the two gravestones. She placed the flowers between the two graves. She wanted to say more to her parents, but she couldn't form the words. The pain of losing them was still as sharp as the edge of a knife. She wanted to tell them they were all doing well and living their lives. She wanted to assure her father she would get the company back one day.

Nothing would come out.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and took a deep breath, choking back a sob. "I love you," she eventually managed to get out. Head bowed, she turned and started walking away.

swashbuckler:

Well, there was good news and there was bad news.  The good news was that the girls had, indeed, successfully freed them from a lifetime of service to the Empress.  They'd successfully bargained for their release and had been allowed to go back home.  There had been the promise that they would be returned to normal as soon as possible.

That.... had turned out to be a lie. 

Steve didn't fully understand the science behind it all (though Doctors Richards, Pym, and McCoy had gone on about it for quite some time), but the basic phrase that had come up was something along the lines of "permanent or possibly fatal genetic damage" if anything was attempted to be done to change them any further than what the Empress's science had done.  At least, for the mortals among them anyway.  Halbjorn and Iason's possible fates were a bit more up in the air.

Steve had gone back to his(?) room in the mansion, not knowing what else to do.

This?  ...This just royally sucked.

discardedheir:

Pawn to e4.

"I hope you have been well," Kristoff politely says to Vincent von Doom, looking t him from across the board in the park.

quitethecharmer:

Vincent von Doom loved New York City. So vibrant and diverse compared to his father's kingdom. It was why he spent as much time as possible living out of the Latverian embassy there, rather than at home. The city was just so wonderfully dirty, so unrestrained.

His father had been remarkably indulgent of this, as Vincent more often than not provided a certain measure of distraction. The boy had been quite happy to play the role of the free-wheeling and globe-trotting heir over the past few years.

Today, however, was his eighteenth birthday. He was a man. He felt like testing the limits of his leash somewhat.

There had been a certain issue he'd never been ordered to approach, although it had been some time since he'd been specifically told not to, that piqued his curiosity.

Which is why he was standing at the front entrance to the Baxter Building, in formal Latverian attire, carrying what amounted to a picnic basket. The spiced tea and banitsa, teleported in only minutes earlier, in particular smelled wonderful.

smallestbear:

He used to be able to remember things from before with such clarity. His mother. His great-grandfather. But there was nothing now. He couldn't remember much of anything or he just didn't want to. All he knew was that he had brothers and sisters here that he loved.

He wouldn't admit it of course. Some of them weren't exactly fluffy bunnies of peace and joy. But he had learned a lot from them. He also learned to not show too much of what he felt. He had been called a Zen Master by some of the agents who knew him since he was a kid.

He still was one. It looked like he was about to go on his first assignment though. They saw him as all grown up now and ready to play with the big boys and girls.

He was nervous. This would be his first time out. What if he messed up? So he looks to his older "siblings" hoping to gain some insight to how they feel about this before they head out.

anyastark:

Anya removed her helmet and stepped out of the suit of armor. She was drenched from head to toe with sweat despite the suit's environmental controls and the shorts and tank top she wore were plastered to her skin. Anya did always tend to run a bit on the hot side and it had been quite a workout. She sat down and straddled the bench in the locker room. She laid back and stared up at the ceiling.

All of her limbs felt rubbery and she didn't think she could move. She didn't want to move. This bench was nice and comfy. She could stay here a day or two.

She sighed and knew she would have to move. She had things to do. There was a new suit of armor that needed to be worked on.