Traitor Game L: Existential Crisis
Thread: Traitor Game L: Existential Crisis
Joe Acro
Near Charlotte, NC
In the beginning, there was a void, cold and dark. Slowly, light grew within it. A hand reached through the void. In that instant, the Omniverse was born. Universes upon universes are forged within their own regions, called multiverses, each vibrating at their own frequency. That was then.
This is now. Welcome to Earth. Rather, welcome to this Earth, Earth-L. One Earth of many. Its universe is about to reach the end of existence.
"Majestic, it's no use!" exclaims the teenage Invincible, flying through the air. "It seems like no matter how fast we go, problems keep popping up everywhere! Massive floods, volcanoes erupting, crazy lightning... nature's gone insane!"
"It's more than nature, Invincible," replies Mr. Majestic. "Ness's psychic nature warned us of this disaster, but I fear even he did not realize the true scope of this problem. The entire universe has gone insane. I've used my micro vision and we're the only world that remains! Yet I am certain we can bring an end to this madness."
"I like that it's a 'we' and a not an 'I'. Can you imagine trying to fight this alone?" Invincible posits. "I wonder how the others are doing..."
Elsewhere, two others discuss the situation.
"Diana, I've never felt so helpless before."
"I know what you mean, Cap," replies Wonder Woman.
"Do you really? For decades, I have been seen as the best man has to offer, and a symbol of this nation. People look to me and those around me--like yourself and the rest of the Justice Guardians--for help in times of struggle. We hope to be able to save them, and our hope becomes their hope. But now... it seems like we're going to die along with them. We can save who we can, but so far it seems as if all of our abilities and brainpower cannot solve this problem. Why? Why were given these powers if we can't use them to save lives?"
Wonder Woman takes his hands between her own. "I know not the answer. I know not why the gods have bestowed upon on us these remarkable gifts, nor why they have now, in such a time of need, chosen to go silent. Even my patron Athena gives no reply. We must remain diligent, my love. May we yet turn the tide, or should we fail, be blessed with eternal rest in the Elysian Fields."
"You're right. We always have to hold on to the hope for a better tomorrow. We fight until the very end."
The two embrace, sharing and soothing each other's anxieties.
Meanwhile, Static patrols a section of New York City. "With all my power, I can't save any of them. I feel so... useless. That wall of... anti-matter, I think Majestic called it, dissolves all it touches. My power of static electricity is no match for... hey, wait!" He changes direction, having noticed an ally down below. "It's Angel! He's trying to use the vampiric strength of his to hold up that building long enough for this people to escape! ...But he doesn't realize the anti-matter wall is... Angel!" he shouts, trying to draw his friend's attention.
Angel looks up at him and says, "Static? What is it? Make sure these people get to s---"
He vanishes, seemingly wiped from existence.
The wall pushes onward. The Justice Guardians truly are no match for its relentless power. They fight until the end, trying to preserve as many lives for as long as possible, even if just to give a child a few more moments to live.
One by one they all fall.
A universe ceases to be. Untold worlds fade from reality.
A mysterious being watches as the wave creeps into other universes.
"It spreads again, Lyla. It gives me such a headache. As I had begun to see and as we both had been warned, the barriers between multiverses have faltered. Yet another universe outside my influence calls it quits! And once more another from within my influence cries as it feels the touch of death.
"You know what you must do and whom you must summon."
"I do, Monitor." A woman stands in form-fitting blue and red armored attire.
"I have consulted with our intruder."
"Guest, Monitor. He is our guest."
"I have consulted with our guest. We have analyzed all those with powers--in the past, present, and future, across multiple worlds. You and he will travel, gather our forces, and ignite our hopes."
"I'll do as you ask. I will serve as your Harbinger. But I suggest you remember that we are equals. I am not your slave."
On an island, the woman known as Circe has surrounded herself with her hybrid subjects. She takes a sip of wine. Suddenly, a burst of energy comes forth from a chamber wall. A form steps through it. "Circe, we have need of you. You feel your magic will keep you protected, but you are mistaken. Come with me, so that we may yet preserve your world."
She eyes Harbinger callously. "I am going nowhere!" she shouts, and tries to grab the woman. "My hand slips through you! Why sorcery is this?" Her subjects try to spring to her aid, but before they move, Harbinger vanishes, taking Circe with her.
A man of military background shows his I.D. and is allowed inside a building, carrying with him a pair of scissors. His footsteps echo through the darkness, carrying him to a heavy, iron-banded oak door. He twists the key and forces the door open by bracing all of his weight against it.
There before him was the Weaver, the giant spider.
...FLESHSCAPE INTO THE FOLDING WHAT OFFERING WHAT BOON THE HINGED SPLITTERS YOU BRING ME...
Pondering the situation a moment, the man hands over the scissors.
...AGAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN DO NOT WITHHOLD THIS BLADED SUMMONS THIS EDGED HYMN I ACCEPT I AGREE YOU SLICE SO NICE AND NICELY YOU LITTLE ENDOSKELETAL FIGURINES YOU SNIP AND SHAVE AND SLIVER THE CORDS OF THE WOVEN WEB AND SHAPE IT WITH AN UNCOUTH GRACE...
It chooses a place for the scissors. They seem to hang in the air with no assistance.
...MORE WILL COME NAY NOT OF THE FLESHSCAPE BUT MORE THE MONITOR AND THE DESTROYER NEED THEIR FOOTSOLDIER THE TORRENT OF THE NOTHING-MATTER CASCADES UNREPENTANT ALONG THE WORLDWEAVE THEY NEED PLAYERS THIS HARBINGER OF WHAT'S TO COME THIS OMEN OF GREATER THINGS I WILL LICK CLEAN ITS TATTERS BRING A KNOWING NEEDLE TO ITS HOLES THE FLESHSCAPE WILL WITNESS MY TEMPORARY ASCENSION DO NOT LET MY HUB GO UNCARED FOR I WILL RETURN...
...THE WORLDWEAVE REVERBERATES WITNESS THIS FLESHSCAPE FOR I AM BEING CONSORTED A PLAYER AMONG MANY BUT THEY KNOW NOT WHAT IS AT STAKE THEY DO NOT SEE THE SCOPE THE WORLDWEAVE MUST LIVE WE MUST PLAY SO THAT WE CAN LIVE SO THAT ALL CAN LIVE HE WHO MONITORS THE NOTHING SHALL KNOW DEFEAT I WILL CONTAIN THE DESTRUCTION HE HAS AND WILL WROUGHT...
A light appears in the corner of the room. It becomes increasingly and increasingly bigger.
...WITHOUT YOU ASK HARBINGER THIS ARTISAN ACCEPTS YOUR COMMISSION I BELIEVE MY WORK SPEAKS FOR ITSELF THIS CAPABLE FOOTSOLDIER LEAD THE WAY SO THAT WE MAY ASCEND AND BEGIN THE GAME IS AFOOT...
The Weaver vanishes, and the light with it.
A man holds a woman at gun point, standing on a rooftop. A small, yet menacing figure in a costume stands nearby. "Hand her over, before I make you," it says.
"Now, that ain't nice, mister World's Greatest Detective. You think just because you're Batman, you get to just make demands? Well, here's a demand. I want a chopper, fueled and ready, holding three hundred thousand big ones, and I want it all in the next fif--'
BIFF!
The man is hit in the face with a boxing glove. The man stumbles, and topples over the side of the building. Batman catches him. The woman flees to safety.
"Always knew that gadget would come in handy."
Harbinger appears before him. "I am here, Jimmy Kudo. I need you."
"Curious. Where did you come from?"
"Your questions will be answered later. Please come with me now."
A bolt of lightning! And 14 unique individuals from multiple realities find themselves mysteriously transported to a space station in an undisclosed location. In the main chamber, deep within the Monitor's satellite, the powers have been assembled.
From a platform higher above, Harbinger speaks. "Call me Harbinger. We, myself and my allies, will address why we have brought you here shortly. Please make yourselves at home. By the nature of what we plan to do, you will be here for a lengthy period of time. Call my name, and I will address any questions you have about this place, or each other."
Marvel Avatars | Marvel Recommendations | Superman Recommendations
EXISTENTIAL CRISIS
A 50th Game Special Event with a story by Joe Acro, Froggy, and Indigo Al
based on the story Crisis on Infinite Earths by Marv Wolfman and George Pérez
Anodyne: Red Lantern Dex-Starr
Deadpooligan: Ultra Rogue
Jeremi: Tessa Henshaw, the Cyborg Sage
Mighty Roman: Lobo the Duck
Indigo Al: Arak Magnus
Cthulhudrew: Gammastorm
Wolvie616: Thor Odinson
Chris Lang: Linda Park-West a.k.a. Hummingbird
Josh: Princess Kitana, Wonder Woman
Masterbasset: The Weaver
Nschornhorst: Circe
The Purple Skull: Savage Hawkman
Feel free to post prologues and get to know each other. We'll assign roles and start the game proper within a few days. Enjoy.
Chris Lang
Sailing the seas
Originally Posted by Joe Acro
OOC: In the meantime, make sure everyone gets the word that this Traitor Game is beginning now. We don't want anyone being left behind, so let everyone know. Send them the links.
My prologue to come later. I may have to be off any minute so I can't write anything substantial right now.
Incredible Member
Dex-Starr crouched silently in the gloom outside the building where he had once lived. Where he had been happy. When he had had Her. His blue fur blended with the twilight, making him nearly invisible to human sight. To most people, he was just another alley cat. But he was so much more! Once he had worn a red ring of power; once he had roamed through space at the side of Atrocitus, the being who had given his life a new purpose. The ring was gone now, but he still retained much of what it had bestowed on him: speech, the ability to make constructs, the power to inflict righteous vengeance upon those who deserved it. Now he had returned home, prepared to find and destroy the one who had killed Her. She who had adopted him, loved him and been kind to him, who had told him he was a Good Kitty.
His tail lashed in anger as he recognized the voice of the man in blue who had cruelly kicked him out of his own home. He crouched, ready to leap and exact retribution against this man, when a disturbance in the air caught his attention. He arched his back, his fur standing upright as the buildings all around him seemed to fade from sight. A fog? No; far more. He hissed and spat viciously at the encroaching mist; then it enfolded him and he was ... elsewhere.
Last edited by Anodyne; 06-14-2015 at 12:55 PM.
Beverly Allen, the Bee--with honey and stinger.
"If humans have souls, then clones will have them, too."--Arthur Caplan
Masterbasset
An Unlikely Pair
Earlier, from another perspective...
Dustday, 22 Octuary, Perdido Street Station, New Crobuzon City, Bas-lag
Is this really worth it?
Science and knowledge is noble and good, and appealed to me on a personal level, but I took a job in the militia because I thought it'd be a sure way to get ahead in life. Follow orders, meet the physical demands, ask no questions, and you were fine. No one would ever declare war on New Crobuzon, as tumorous on the landscape as it seemed to the outside world, so the worst I would have to deal with is the occasional riot gone awry. That's fine. I have no illusions that the militia life wasn't a dangerous one.
I could handle rioters. This? How the hell did I get stuck with this shift? Every week, I abandon my usual quarters by the Ribs and take a shuttle to Perdido Street Station, the vulgar heart of this city. It stood out. The architect had been incarcerated, insane beyond repair, seven years after the station was completed. He was a herectic, it was said, intent on building his own god.
The shuttle lurched as we were swallowed by one of the five enormous brick mouths built to receive the city's trainlines, the tracks unrolling on the arches like huge tongues. There were shops and torture chambers and offices and workshops and empty spaces that stuffed the fat belly of the station, but I had one destination in mind today:
The secret tunnel below it.
Once I disembarked I made my way to a far corner secluded from easy view. I showed my ID card to the Cactus-Man bodyguard, who gave a sharp nod that I'm sure would've killed me had I been too close. I had an uncle who used to say that you should never become friendly enough with a Cactacae that you would exchange nods or fist-bumps, if they forget or neglect to shave their thorns one day, you're looking at a missing limb or weeks of pain.
Maybe he had a point.
I made my way down the gullet of this building, the package in hand. I felt like puking. They tell me scissors are still very much the current object of desire, but last when the Creature switched affectations, it took three deaths before we finally figured out what it wanted next. Before scissors, it was chess sets. By Jabber, why are we humoring this insane monster? I have no idea why this one chose to stay here, of all the gods-forsaken places to choose, he chose my city. Two hundred years ago it had announced to the Mayor in its maddeningly roundabout way that it would be living here. Some administrations had left it alone, others were taken in by the obvious possibility of power and tried to bargain with it, reason with it.
There is no bargaining with this alien-thing. They've settled for friendly terms, bringing it the inane objects it desires. That's where I come in today. I get to bring the Weaver his scissors.
My footsteps still echoed in the darkness even as I ended at the heavy iron-banded oak door. Twisting the key and bracing my weight against it I entered the realm of the Weaver. We have no idea how he did it, the room used to be used for storage, but the room was much larger than it had any right to be according to building schematics. He had made it His.
There was that feeling of dislocation that made my ears pop. I will never get used to that. In the forefront of visibility there were long threads, almost invisible filaments of spun æther and visible emotion draped all over the room that would stick to clothes as you walk.
I hate this.
I saw him.
Its movements reminded me of a tarantula, except the motion is perfected. It picked one leg up at a time high in the air and placed it down with the precision of a surgeon or artist. It's head was the size of my torso, and when its multiple unblinking eyes looked at me as it crawled, I could not escape the feeling that they see me, not who I want to be or who I think I am, but really me, and I stand rigid, paralyzed by that inhuman gaze. And lest I lie to myself that this thing is just a large, intelligent animal, a scary yet comprehensible threat, there was his arms.
Out of place with the rest, they were like human children's arms in his skin, piloted by a mad god's fervor, they were always held together clasping and rubbing each other slowly and incessantly as it gibbered on in that horrible tongue. If I ignore the sight of them and tried to focus on its words instead, I'm reminded that the Weaver is hard to follow even when you are ready for it, nevermind jumping into the middle of his gospel, you had to hope you were lucky that he would pause long enough for you to wrap your head around its dream-poetics. Did it just decide to kill me? Is it making pleasantries? Are the two one and the same? As much as our 'experts' could say, with Weavers to think was to think aesthetically. To act - to Weave - was to bring about more pleasing patterns in this world. They did not eat physical food, they seemed to subsist on the appreciation of beauty. A beauty unrecognized by humans or other denizens of the mundane plane, a beauty that sometimes meant death or destruction.
I handed it the scissors.
It peered onto the ephemeral wall inlaid with hundreds of scissors and deemed an appropriate place for its newest fixture. Without explanation, the scissors stayed where it was without any evidence of suspension. On the first day he spent a few minutes pondering that, but when even the shadows of the room seemed knitted into an unknowable pattern, he could forgive the selective lack of gravity.
The Weaver danced suddenly and quickly from side to side, jigging bizarrely. A soft drumming echoed the room as its sharp and taloned feet reached the floor.
I only really caught the last part. Is he leaving? Jabber, what did he just say?
There's a light coming from the corner, getting brighter and brighter, Jabber I can't see , what the hell is happening? Is someone else in here? Gods, it's moving faster!
Oh god, I'm going to lose my job.
Mighty Roman
All-New, All-Different
Currently Roamin' Rome
Lobo the Duck Prologue: Wild Animals
KA-BLAM! KA-BLAM! Another target dead. It had been a good day for Lobo the Duck. 3 men dead and 3 million credits transferred to his account. He could now just spend the rest of the day with his flippers up, enjoying a cigar and a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. Until...he arrived at the local galactic liquor store, where he had to wait 3 hours to get to the front of the line. If he didn't shoot everyone in front of him and threaten the cashierbot. Yay, free beer!
Arriving back at his apartment (which had a door which was mistakenly labelled Lobo A. Duck), Lobo put his twin Hyperblasters back in his weapons cabinet. And then he took out two bigger ones. These twin pistols were huge, almost Lobo's entire body length, yet he still managed to somehow lift them well enough to hit a target from 10 metres away. They were the pride and joy of the deadly duck's weapon collection, to the point that he had named them Crystal and Veronica. He smiled (it looked extremely weird-have you ever seen a duck smile?). He'd just got in in time-it was raining outside, and it was very difficult to do anything with wet feathers.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck Lobo and threw him onto the space station with the others. After he'd finished cursing in 150 different languages, Lobo stood up and said: 'When I find out who did this, I will shoot them so many times...'
Currently Reading in Single Issues/Trades:
Marvel:Hulk (NOW), Ant-Man (NOW), Avengers: Time Runs Out,
DC:Earth 2, Superman: Earth One, The Flash,
Titan: Doctor Who: The Tenth Doctor, Doctor Who: Four Doctors,
Secret Wars: Planet Hulk, The Last Days of Ant-Man, House of M,
Marvel:Totally Awesome Hulk, Astonishing Ant-Man, Carnage,
DC:Earth 2: Society,
Titan:Doctor Who: The Tenth Doctor Year 2, Doctor Who: The Eighth Doctor,
Co-Editor of CBR's Age of Marvel Amazing Line
Yo Mighty Roman, clear your PM's please.
Last edited by Froggy; 06-13-2015 at 09:05 PM.
Brad Pitt for Grifter in a WildCATS movie
The Purple Skull
EXTREMIS 4.0
Prologue - The Savage Hawkman
Thanagar - Many Years Ago...
"My fellow Thanagarian brothers and sisters. I come to you at possibly our greatest time of need. The legacy of Thanagar itself is at a crossroads. My friends, we stand on the foothills of a revolution! For far too long, we have laid oppressed as slaves to these higher powers of Thanagar. At the heart of all of this is Byth Rok. The so-called leader of our world. He and his "Shadow Elite" claim to do what is always best for Thanagar and its future. Well if you ask me, they're nothing more than a cabal of Shadow Thieves!
These prime movers have deemed us unworthy and unfit to live a meaningful life. The only thing we're good to them is to fight their battles in order to keep their hands clean. But that cannot be as their hands have already been sullied with the blood of our fallen brethren. You see, Byth and and his lackeys have all turned their backs on our beliefs. They have spit in the face of tradition and forsaken the foundation that the great god and goddess of Thanagar, Katar & Chayera, laid for us when this world was but an infant. Instead, they choose to rely on science and experimentation to achieve their own goals. Yes, they take our fellow brothers and sisters against their wills and turn them into genetically enhanced soldiers. Their damned arrogance and all, they have the gall to call it an "Ascension Ceremony". Alas, not everyone makes it to the proceedings. Those who don't survive are swept away like yesterday's trash. But what of the ones who make it through the process? They are sold off to the highest bidders!
For years, we chose not associate ourselves with scum such as the Gordanians and the White Martians. But now, under Rok, they have become our "business partners", leeching off our precious resources and making us look like weak fools. What was once a proud nation with people of character has been relegated to nothing more than toys being auctioned off in the black markets! While our friends and family go off to Katar knows where to likely die, Byth and his cabinet reap the benefits all to themselves.
I say no more.
I will no longer stand idly by while our planet continues to be plagued by such corruption. I refuse to allow other worlds to treat us like their pets and ridicule us for going soft. One year ago, I spoke out against Byth Rok's regime, and he executed my parents right in front of me to teach all would be rebels a lesson. He proceeded to subjugate me to hellish torture psychologically and physically. Byth thought he could break my spirit, my mind, and my body.
I'm not broken. I'm pissed off.
My name is Fel Andar...and I no longer wish to be a forgotten one.
Now it is time to renew our ancient conflict and slake my rage in the blood of my enemy! I will not rest until the head of Byth Rock is mounted on a pike in the middle of the city.
The plan is simple. We fight. We reclaim our planet. Then, we reclaim our respect!
Who's with me?"
"Aye!"
"I am with you, brother!"
"We stand with Fel Andar!"
"Then let the Thanagarian battle cry ring out for the whole damn galaxy to hear....
KA-TAR! KA-TAR! KA-TAAAAAAAAAR!!!!!!"
Then in an instant, Fel Andar, the young upstart leader of the Resistance, was gone in a flash!
End Prologue
GLORIOUS!
"What?! What manner of dark sorcery is this?!"
Originally Posted by Harbinger
"You there! I do not know why you brought me here, and quite honestly, I do not care! I am at war, and I do not have time for your petty games, woman! Return me to my homeworld this instant!"
Linda Park-West zipped through Central City on her way back to Keystone.
It still felt strange to her, being the one with super-speed. But Wally had no one else to turn to. She had been dragged into the Speed Force with him and back. It had been her, Wally, and the two Reverse Flashes. The only way Linda could survive the confrontation was if Wally tapped into the Speed Force, and allowed it to power Linda.
In the end, it had worked. But their triumph was a bittersweet one. Hunter Zolomon was dead. Eobard Thawne was sent back to the 25th Century. And Wally... had been missing for months, presumed dead.
Now, the Flash's former Rogues had been causing trouble in Central City, and she had to stop them. Assisted by Jay Garrick (the role model and inspiration of Barry Allen, as Barry was to Wally) and two reformed Rogues Pied Piper and Trickster, they had managed to apprehend the Weather Wizard, Heat Wave, and the new Rogue called Double Down.
Now, Hummingbird was running to where Captain Cold was spotted. Along the way, she wondered if she was really up to the situations where one crisis went straight into the next, with barely enough time to relax in between. Though it wasn't as if she hadn't been warned about it. Wally confided in her about how a superhero's life could be frustrating in that sense.
As it turned out, Captain Cold and Mirror Master were fighting amongst themselves. "Give it up, McCulloch! I told you ... no more drugs! I won't have it!"
Mirror Master appeared unsteady amidst a series of mirrors clearly designed to set fire to the roof of a nearby bank. Some of those mirrors were covered in ice. "What do you want? This bank job was your idea, wasn't it?" Mirror Master was saying.
"To pull off ANY sort of operation requires all involved to be clean and sober. You've ruined this for us by slipping back into your habit."
"Good." Hummingbird said as she stopped nearby. "Don't worry, Captain Cold. He'll be sent to rehab soon enough."
As she spoke, she used her speed powers to create a strong wind, knocking the already unsteady Mirror Master backwards, into one of the mirrors frozen in ice. Captain Cold was also thrown to the ground.
"And you've got a jail cell waiting for you as well." Hummingbird said, addressing Captain Cold as she moved quickly to disarm Captain Cold of his ice gun while she had the chance. She then fired the cold gun at Mirror Master's leg. His leg iced up, and he found himself sprawled on the floor.
She then smashed the cold gun against a nearby wall, and turned to knock Captain Cold senseless before he could reach for any more of his ice devices.
She was surprised at how easy this way, given that she was still new at this. But then again, these two Rogues were clearly distracted by their dispute.
It was then that a strange blonde woman dressed in a blue costume appeared out of nowhere. "Hummingbird, you are needed. A greater crisis than the one you have just faced awaits you. The fate of many worlds depends on you."
The next thing Linda knew, she was aboard some sort of space station, with several other beings. Some of whom seemed familiar, some of whom weren't.
All sorts of questions ran through Linda's mind. All of what she was seeing and hearing seemed familiar.
"Wait a minute. I've heard about something like this. The Anti-Monitor ... he isn't back, is he? The Justice League assured us he was dead."
The Cyborg Sage
The Cyborg Sage, Tessa Henshaw would be standing by the window looking outside at the brimstone court yard of the Hellfire League of Injustice's mansion that was situated by the outskirts of New Gotham City. While lost in taught she'd hear a door open behind her followed by a baritone voice.
"Ms Henshaw! And to what honor does our league have for you to grace us with your company?" The man was Savage Shaw, the untouchable immortal, leader of the League and surprisingly jovial, considering when Tessa left the League it was with less than amicable terms.
She wouldn't even turn to face him when he grasped her tightly by the arm.
"Before I paint these room with your blood and viscera I would very much like to know how you got in here."
"I walked in." She replied in a cold an mechanical voice. "Your security system was most helpful." She'd turn around and the look of surprise on Shaw's face was evident.
"Henshaw...?"
Suddenly the arm that had held Tessa was ripped off. "I no longer go by that moniker."
She tossed Shaw's arm unceremoniously to the side and grabbed him by the throat.
"I am the Cyborg Sage."
"You are the froth of my piss cup!" Shaw spat back seemingly unfazed by the fact that he had just lost an arm. "The audacity of you! I wi-!" She'd slap him across the face dislocating his jaw in the process.
"I only came to inform you, since we were former partners that I have emptied all of the Leagues bank accounts and siphoned the money to Pro-mutant charities. I also took the liberty to initiate the mansions self destruct sequence." She dropped the Immortal to the ground as she hovered in the air. "By my calculations this will with a 89% chance be the last time you see me. Farewell." With that she'd fly through the window mere seconds before the mansion exploded.
The likely hood of survivors were slim to none. As she flew from the scene Tessa's optic sensors would be blinded by a white flash of light and suddenly all of her systems went dark...
Cthulhudrew
Bruce Banner's head throbbed, searing pain shooting through his skull right behind his eyes. His gloved hands trembled. A rage slowly boiled within him, until, at last...
"WOULD YOU CUT OUT ALL THE RACKET!!!!"
He exploded at his teenage compatriot.
"WHAT'S THAT, DOC?" Rick Jones shouted back from the other room. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE MUSIC!!"
Doctor Banner rolled his eyes, willed himself to calm down. Steadied his hands in the glove box so that he wouldn't drop the radioactive isotope he was working with.
Hearing no response, Rick stopped strumming, turned off his guitar amp. Removed his headphones. "Sorry, Doc. I didn't catch that. Did you say something?" he asked as he walked into the lab.
Banner sighed. "Richard, I'm trying to conduct an important experiment that might allow us better control over our powers. It is incredibly hard to maintain focus with all that noise. Not to mention the dangers of working with unstable radioactive materials. I..."
"It's 'Rick', Doc. 'Rick!'" The long-haired teen threw up his hands in exasperation. "How many times I gotta tell ya?"
"Richard," Banner said, pointedly. "Please do not interrupt me when..."
But it seemed to be a day for interruptions, as a tremor suddenly rocked the building the duo were standing in. A tremor and... something... else?
69-2.jpg
"I- I'm beginning to feel strange!" Doctor Banner clutched at his throat. "My head is throbbing! This must be-- the End..."
"The whole world's goin' batty!" remarked Rick. "Even this kooky radio-- it won't play! All it gives out with is static!"
Rick and Dr. Banner suddenly found themselves in a strange place, with a myriad of strange people; a world unfamiliar to them!
"Doc- I don't think we're in Kansas any more!"
"New Mexico, Richard," the doctor corrected him.
Originally Posted by The Purple Skull
"I do apologize for the inconvenience this seems to be," Harbinger replies, "but I can assure I am playing no mere games. We are faced with a task of utmost importance, and it affects your homeworld."
Originally Posted by Chris Lang
Harbinger says nothing in response to Hummingbird. The answer to that question is better left for another.
As the others in the room began to congregate and talk amongst themselves, Rick's ears perked up at something he overheard.
Originally Posted by Lady in Red
"'Justice League'?" the spunky teen turned to his mentor. "D'you think that's anything like the Justice Avengers, Doc?"
But no reply was forthcoming, as the Doctor was contemplating her reference to an 'Anti-Monitor,' which reminded him of the nefarious deeds of a parallel universe's mad Elder Guardian of the Universe Kamo Tharnn- the "Anti-Possessor"- and his Staff of Rune, which nearly brought the entire multiverse to the brink of destruction. If not for the assistance of their own universe's Possessor- not even all the assembled Justice Avengers, Infinity Corps, and other assorted defenders of the universe could have stopped him. Could there be a connection between the two?, Banner thought silently to himself.
Last edited by Cthulhudrew; 06-15-2015 at 02:14 PM.
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