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Seeking a mentor for a young prince [Jun. 8th, 2019|05:27 am]

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((Thor is an asshole. Loki is an asshole. Jadelyn is an asshole. Ben is an asshole. They are all fired. ALL OF THEM. FIRED. They made me write ALL THIS FUCKING SELF-PLAY OUT. Arduna, if you wondered why this took so fucking long....))

The conference was not quite over when Thor decided to contact his brother regarding assisting Prince Edgar. He'd realized, fortunately in time, that he had no idea where Etheria was to direct Loki, nor was he certain that Loki knew, or if he even knew of the fae kingdom.

The good fortune of remembering in time to contact his brother did not counter the bad fortune of not knowing the fastest way to actually contact him. Loki might not have the Gauntlet on his person to have access to the Mind Gem's powers.

Perhaps Jadelyn could help. She could hardly take the Phoenix off like Loki could the Gauntlet, after all.

Thor excused himself at the next recess after speaking with the Etherian prince and confirming that he'd like a teacher for his abilities, stepping out to the balcony, but not crossing the threshold of the shield. He wished he could step out fully; not only was a telepathic 'phone call,' as the Midgardians would put it, a private thing that felt like one's surroundings should be just as private, but the world beyond the walls of the governing hall of the Mrrshan Empire was more peaceful and natural than the building. The Hall was a beautiful building, and the woods and jungles and other landscape beyond the walls were a far cry from Asgard's view of the heavens, but even on Asgard, he often craved that view instead of the splendor of the inside of the palace.

And his brother had always far preferred the world beyond the palace walls. It seemed more appropriate to seek him out there.

But, the shield was there for a reason, and if he wanted to exit, he had to have an escort to allow him back in, so he simply stood at the open door of the balcony and sent his thought out to the universe.

He wasn't particularly practiced with that, not the one with the telepathic ability in his conversations with his brother, but even so, calling out for Jadelyn felt clumsier than calling for his brother. Some of it was practice over the last three years, and some of it was just that Loki's mind was familiar to Thor from before the Gauntlet allowed them true telepathic conversations. He'd never had to hear Loki's thoughts to recognize his mind when the Mind Gem linked them.

It was the years of brotherhood, years of friendship and laughter and tears that had returned with the poisonous influence of the Tesseract and the terror of Thanos that had haunted Loki from the moment he'd fallen from the Rainbow Bridge now a thing of the past.

Thor knew that much of the reason the younger two Elric brothers had that not-quite telepathic connection was that they shared a soul, but he'd spoken with them off and on over the last three years, as well as the oldest one, and come to understand that only some of that connection could be explained by the shared soul. The shared soul could not account for the similar bond the two younger brothers had developed with the oldest, a man who had no soul at all.

"It's just how siblings are," Edward had said. "It's over-developed with Al, but when you're someone's brother, their minds just become familiar to you. I could probably recognize Winry if I really tried, and there's not any blood or legal ties between us. I'm her brother, that's all that matters."

A sentiment that Thor could understand, very well.


He was treated to a mental 'noise' that reminded him of listening to JARVIS sending a call to Cap's phone and Cap continuing to talk to someone in the background after answering, before actually giving greeting. He was certain that voice loudest in whatever conversation he was interrupting was Jadelyn's, but past that, he could hear his brother's, and another masculine voice that Thor didn't recognize.

Thor immediately worried for the sanity of someone in that extended clan, that Jadelyn and Loki were so near each other.
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Conference- This time, to work, then maybe mingle [Aug. 16th, 2017|07:51 am]

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Things were nowhere near done, but things were largely drawing down to simply socialization, formalities getting left behind.

Not quite, though, and that meant time to introduce to twins. Who represented an elder god. Jasara so looked forward to that one.

Conversations were still taking place in the official meeting room, rows and steps upon rows and steps stretching up before Jasara, Empress of the Mrrshan Empire, which was hosting the conference.

She checked the clock next to her podium. Time to start.

She stepped up to the podium, cleared her throat, and purred into the audio system in the Common Tongue- "Friends, fellow leaders, may we please have order?" Her voice was translated into several different languages at the individual stations of each ruler and their entourage for those who did not know Common, or whose ears (or what functioned as such) could not understand the sounds to let them understand the language.

The noise and conversation settled down from the low roar into silence. Jasara smiled. "Welcome back, my friends. I lament that our work is not yet done, for there is still business to attend to. I believe our friend, Emperor Grorvog still has some grievances with the encroach of Bahamut's religion into his territory. But before we get to that, and I apologize, my friend, before we can get to your business, we missed a couple introductions yesterday. An oversight we are remedying now."

She held out her paw in Emily and Annamarie's direction. "May I introduce Doctors Annamarie and Emily Elric, representatives of the Gatemaster, child of the Lord of Nightmares? Please greet them as friends."
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Delta Flight 2292 now arriving in LAX [Aug. 6th, 2017|03:39 pm]

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[mood | discontent]
[music |Come Undone - Meredith Brooks]

You wear your shirt tucked in,
Palm more pills for your next migraine.
You don't sleep at night;
You're comfty with your own life.
Go run; your feet never touch ground.
You say, 'I'll sleep next year'.
You want to scream out loud,
But you don't dare make a sound.

Gwen stood, sore and travel-weary even with flying Delta Comfort class, just a step below First, and wide-awake, annoyed at a long day that was way longer than it had any right to be. She had been due to board her flight at eight-thirty in the morning. Which was now technically yesterday morning, and be in Los Angeles by four-thirty in the afternoon, still before sundown. That would have given her time to check in, unwind, have dinner and a shower and get some sleep before the pathologist conference starting in less than seven hours.

And she had yet to deboard the damn plane. Oh, wait. Good. People were moving. That was about to change.

Two hours previously during her layover in Minneapolis, she called and left a voice mail on Spike's phone to give him a heads up that she needed a chauffeur by no later than twelve-twenty the next morning, with her flight due to land at twelve-ten. No way was she going to trust just any cabbie or even a limo driver that far past sundown and before sunrise unless she knew their credentials. That was a good way to get killed.

She hoped he'd checked his voice mail in the meantime as she rode the escalator down to the baggage claim, and scanned the crowd for any possible drivers holding a sign with her name on it, maybe they arrived early.
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Interworldly Conference Thingie - GO! [Aug. 2nd, 2017|11:43 pm]

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Normalcy was such a strange concept.

The last several months since the incident with the volcano had been a whirlwind for Edgar, learning how to be a prince, with the servants and the attention and the nonstop lessons, with a face that he still sometimes had trouble recognizing in the mirror as his own, even after almost two years. He barely got any time to see Rosella. Not to mention the fussing over Malicia, now that she was an infant. Babies took a lot of time and attention, and at least a part of Edgar was relieved that it took some of the focus off of him. And then came word of the upcoming conference, and he had to be prepared for that, too, all the while being assured that this was all normal, and he would get used to it.

...Edgar had never felt less normal as he and his parents arrived at the conference, Malicia left behind in Etheria with a team of trusted nurses.

For one thing, the world where the conference was being held was much warmer and more humid than the high-altitude climates Edgar was used to. He suddenly regretted that he hadn't started wearing the chitons his parents favored--at least until he remembered how much skin they tended to show.

For another... there were so many people. Maybe not quite as many as had been at his homecoming ball, but still, there were a lot of them. At least two dozen of them were representatives from other worlds, but there were also scores of staff members moving about to keep the conference operating smoothly. Edgar didn't know any of them, beyond names he had yet to put faces to, but it felt like they kept looking at him. Edgar blushed and looked away shyly when a small knot of young women whispered and giggled as he passed them.

OK, Edgar, you can do this; you've already survived being a troll king. You have to learn how to handle these things. All you have to do is say a few words when it's your turn and then sit back down and listen, he mentally reminded himself as they all filed into the meeting room. He quietly took his seat alongside his parents.

The conference was called to order, and the Etherians were among the first representatives recognized.

"We regret our long delay in attending to our duties to this council," Oberon was saying, "But, we are pleased to say that the threats to our world are currently under control."

"And we are even more pleased to say that, after so long, we have finally been reunited with our son, Edgar," Titania added, beaming with pride, "Now that he's home at last, we can turn our attentions toward our duties once again."

All right, Edgar, it's your turn. Deep breath. Don't panic, he tried to reassure himself, but then he felt every set of eyes in the room on him, and, try as he might, he couldn't quite stop the rush of blood into his cheeks.

"I, uh--" Edgar's voice cracked from sheer nerves and he cleared his throat. Smooth, Edgar. Very smooth. "Hello, everyone, I'm Edgar, and... I can't tell you what a privilege it is to be here after everything that has led to this moment. As Prince of Etheria, I look forward to getting to know all of you and to work toward our mutual goals. Thank you." He quickly sat back down as soon as he was done, red to the tips of his ears, hoping he didn't sound too ridiculous.

Edgar did his best to pay attention to the other introductions and the proceedings, trying not to fidget or slouch or indicate any boredom, to behave like a proper prince. Nonetheless, he was relieved when the first recess was called to allow for the various representatives to socialize and relax and refresh.

"Go ahead and make some friends, but don't wander too far," Titania told Edgar.

"And be careful. If anything doesn't feel right, come find us again," Oberon said.

"I understand," Edgar said, nodding.

Soon, though, the mingling crowd started to close in around him, his parents greeting those they knew and catching up on things. Little by little, Edgar shyly edged toward the fringes of the group, slowly easing toward the door, until he was able to slip out and find his way to the nearest green space.

It was much easier for him to breathe among growing things and away from the bulk of leaders, priestesses, emperors and empresses, hierarchs, lords and everyone else. He let out a sigh of relief as he started casually looking at the assorted plants. Oh, he'd wander back in eventually and start talking to people, but it was less overwhelming out here.
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Escorting a new group to the Nova. [Aug. 3rd, 2017|07:47 am]

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The arrangements had already been made for a quarters- three bedrooms, in case that 'without the bride and groom' comment had indicated that they technically weren't married yet, and therefore might not be comfortable sharing a room -for the three new displaceds.

"These are the royal guest quarters," she explained, leading them down the hall. "You'll be escorted to the medical baby after this for vaccinations, so you don't die of whatever we might have floating in the air here. I'll teach you about your new living space, though." She got a wry smile on her face. "If you thought the bathrooms back in the containment center were nice, this place is going to confuse you."
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Got a date with a Templar [Aug. 1st, 2017|03:15 am]

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Spike hadn't become Master Vampire of the greater Los Angeles area for no reason. He had many reasons, among them a vow to protect the area that had been dear to-



But the reason he'd been able to ascend was wits, and perhaps some support from a famous former comrade, who at one time was a love rival- twice, actually, the bloody plonker -but also a mentor, who taught him ways to be dangerous without having to be aggressive to non-demonic entities.

Actually, that's what made him more terrifying. While Spike would not harm a non-Underworld creature, he would visit all sorts of hell on whatever demonic entity had pissed him off. And since Spike had always been semi-unpredictable, being a creature of blood and passion, rather than the cold and calculating sort like his grand-sire had been, it made it harder to know what he was doing, if he'd so admantly refuse to harm a human or mutant.

Very few knew about the chip. The Initiative doctors, but they were too scared of what Spike's goons could do to them to say anything, and Spike was slowly hunting them down, one by one. He'd always keep one alive to remove it, if it started to malfunction and do weird shit to his brain. But the chip, using lessons from Angeles, Spike had learned to use it for his own advantage. So until it malfunctioned, in it stayed.

The former Scoobies knew, and Spike knew where each of them were, and none were talking. Giles had gone back to England to battle politically with the Watcher's Council, Tara and Willow had taken up the job of being the Witches of the Hellmouth after getting married in 2008 and remained in Sunnydale. Xander had joined the underground Knights Templar. Dawn lived there in LA as a figure skater, and the most protected woman in the world. Practically underworld royalty. All she had to do was tell a vampire she was protected by Spike and she would be taken out of any trouble she found herself in and protected.

And speaking of those Templars, backing up a few lines, Spike had a new liason to break in.

Xander, in all his trauma, refused to have anything to do with Sunnydale, and requested being transferred to the hellmouth out in West Virginia. Spike thought that was foolish, as that particular hellmouth scared the shit out of even him, but it meant he wasn't the one that Spike dealt with.

The previous Dame had retired to the inner politics, deemed too old to fight against a demon onslaught, but still strong of mind enough to not fully retire to a safe haven. But that meant a new Sir was in the area, and Spike hadn't met this one yet.

Which meant a 'diplomatic' trip up to north central California.

Time to call Dawn, then. She preferred to not show her face on his arm too much, but she did demand to be let in on things from time to time, if only for her own safety, and to pass things along to Willow and Tara when she'd go visit her adopted mothers.

Evening was just setting in when Spike scrolled through his phone's contacts, a glass of bloodwine that he had been rationing since the last time he'd conned Samantha Summers out of some next to him. There, 'Little bit'. She hated that nickname, probably would until the day she died, but he'd never call her anything else. 'Dawny' was Buffy's name for her. That was the Scoobies' name for her. 'Little bit' was all his.

He hit call and hoped she was home from teaching.
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Time to get the fuzzy Time Lord back to home base [Jul. 29th, 2017|07:57 pm]

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Natasha looked over the three newcomers. A chimera man with blue skin and rocks attached, and hair that appeared to be wire. A redheaded woman who barely looked like an adult and whose size didn't look like she'd finished puberty. And a ridiculously tall man who rivaled Nathan Dayspring-Summers in side. All in medieval-esque fantasy-world clothing.

The woman was a sorceress, apparently, as was the chimera, and both the chimera and the man carried swords. The one that the chimera- his name is Zelgadis, Natasha, she reminded herself -looked like a customized claymore, while the one the man- Gourry, right? -had a custom piece that defied description. The blade wasn't quite as long as a Zweihänder, but it looked like much longer and it'd be classified as one.

The hilt, however, was what made Natasha's normally unflappable brain flap a bit.

Looks-wise, it was beautiful, certainly, some form of dragon she'd never seen wrapped around the base of the hilt, its wings flared outwards to form the broad balance, and a staff of some sort rising out of its mouth to form the handle of the hilt itself. There was some sort of design imprinted along the dragon's body and the staff handle itself, what looked like some form of magical runic language, and what might've been scenes of other dragon patterns etched in around the runes.

But something about that sword made Natasha's hair stand on end. Surely Dante had noticed it, but he hadn't said any word of warning.

Honestly, the demon hunter hadn't said much of anything in warning.

So she simply sat and ate her Blizzard- Clint, you wonderful man, you know what I like -and waited while her partner got as much information as he could on the whole batch of new arrivals that day. While Natasha and Clint didn't have rank around the place, they were both personally acquainted with Mooj, and therefore were being deferred to about whether this whole mess should be shared with Chief of Operations Orishali Moondusk, who could then make the call about contacting Mooj and requesting he leave the diplomatic conference early to deal with this mess personally.

Natasha personally didn't feel that necessary- though she was annoyed, not just with Colin, but herself, that nobody had gotten either of the other two new arrivals up to Jade to be vaxxed first -but if the hellmouth had spat out three different sets of displaceds in one day, it was possibly it was gearing up for another, much bigger one. And Mooj would have them all devoured by his ulcer if he wasn't called back to deal with that before it happened.
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The boy of many questions [Jul. 26th, 2017|09:30 pm]

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Edward had only been staying with Roy and Riza a day, and he was already proving that- despite his several issues that the Edward from their world (who could no longer be thought of simply as 'theirs', since this one was adopted in one form or another at this point, whether anyone knew it or liked it or not) could ever pray he didn't have to deal with -he was still an Elric.

Which means he was peppering them with questions about his new surroundings.

Fair enough, and wise enough given anyone in the boy's situation, but in some ways, Roy felt it was preparing him for his own child's toddler years.

The questions that Roy found the oddest were the ones about the local gods. Edward said that he'd gotten a little information on the subject and service and soulbindings from Sammy, but with everything dumped on his head in those what, three, four hours? It hadn't all stuck. Roy felt ill-equipped to answer those questions, and with Sammy being a bad source of interactions with Edward, Roy felt it wisest to defer the questions to the next best expert he could think of.


Which was nice, given that Morkoth had experience dealing with a child with many of Edward's same issues, although his gender might be a problem. But Sue was there, and she had some idea of how to handle it, too, and she was female (and might not outrank Edward, if things became really nasty before Roy could pull it back under control).

So after making an appointment with Jade for his wife for her first pre-natal check up- something Roy really wanted to be with her for, should be with her for, but was told that their other child needed him at the moment, and she would be fine, it wasn't like it was time for an ultrasound yet -Roy put in a call to Morkoth to give him a quick briefing before dropping them on his doorstep.
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If it isn't just my luck [Jul. 13th, 2017|02:57 am]

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Dante and Trish were good demon hunters. The best, in fact. And they always got called in on the chancy jobs.

Like a time-hopping demon hanging out near the hellmouth and running away with a bag of technological goodies that included, you know, a fucking thermal detonator.

Why were they always a bunch of assholes, huh?

Guessing how controlled the demon would be able to make its hops with the hellmouth nearby was hard, so he and Trish had to take a chance and split up, flanking the areas the demon had been hopping around and hoping to whatever god that wanted to have anything to do with them that the hellmouth didn't interfere.

"I've got him, babe!" He called into his communicator as the demon hopped next to him and gave chase, only taking note of Trish's reply long enough to make sure that there wasn't a warning in it that something else was coming.

The demon ripped open a hole and jumped through, Dante right on its heels
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Enter the Templar [Jul. 9th, 2017|02:17 pm]

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The Hissing Wastes along the Western Approach of Orlais were a large expanse of little more than dirt, sand and rock that burned in the daytime and froze at night. No wonder they had sent an Ander there for this mission. It wasn't all that different from home.

Most who came here were either in search of ruins of lost dwarven civilization, or hunting the dragons and other rare and hungry beasts that roamed the area. Ingrid was in search of neither. Rather, she had been sent to investigate the possibility of a pocket of Red Templars, to seek out her fallen brethren and save whichever ones she could, if it were not yet too late.

The news had been slow to trickle so far north to the Anderfels, especially in the wake of what had happened at Haven. No longer did a Divine sit on the Sunburst Throne to command her templars as she saw fit. And the Lord Seeker had been rumored to have abandoned reason for... Maker only knew what end. The Knight-Commanders were almost without direction, but the Red Templars were reason enough to rally. Filled with tainted lyrium, transformed into creatures the likes of which Thedas had never seen before... Ingrid had seen only a handful so far, and most were too far gone to save except to dispatch with a quick death, far less painful than the overgrowth of crystals in their bodies.

But there were other dangers here besides Red Templars and fell beasts and the punishing climate. There were the rifts. Those strange, bright tears between the mortal world and the Fade, the land of dreams, spirits and demons alike. Especially the demons. They poured forth from the rifts in numbers greater than any lone templar could face, and the only person known to be able to close them was the one whose title was whispered reverently: the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste. Someone far more important than Ingrid was ever likely to meet. She would just have to do the best she could to deal with the creatures on her own, relying on her faith as much as her sword and shield. And, as much as it pained here, sometimes discretion was the better part of valor, and the rifts best skirted rather than fought head-on.

But there were times they could not be avoided, opening suddenly and randomly, impossible to predict.

Like now.

The tremor was the first warning, and Ingrid paused to see if it was earthquake or dragon or what. It meant nothing good regardless. And then she saw the ground, boiling with green eruptions like an unholy kettle, each one about to bring a demon into the waking world. Ingrid raised her sword, trying to avoid them, to get to a decent defensive position before they flooded in.

But there was no good place to run. She was surrounded, at the center of the ring. And being at the very center meant--

She barely had time to react to the demons that burst forth with a cracking like thunder, rushing the nearest one, when the rift opened right before her. There was no time to stop. No way to dodge. She was going to go through...

And just as suddenly, she was no longer in a desert, but a place that seemed beyond fathoming. And yet, it did not seem like a dreamscape, however alien it might be.

Maker's breath, what was going on? She didn't dare lower her sword or shield. Not yet.
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He's not the Prime here, but he's used to being one of many [Jun. 25th, 2017|12:14 am]

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Things had gone seriously wrong. Like everything else in his life, a disaster had dropped on his lap, and he couldn't see how it wasn't his fault.

If he hadn't riled up Deborah Palingo, the Third wouldn't have been attacked. If he hadn't involved the others, they wouldn't be fighting in the name of Fullmetal. If he hadn't gone to Haloa, they never would've known the name to take it. If he hadn't transmuted Central, he wouldn't have been in Haloa. If he hadn't become a State Alchemist, he wouldn't have been forced into the position of having to. And if he just hadn't resurrected his mother, had accepted that she was gone, he wouldn't have become a State Alchemist, because his brother would never have been taken by the Gate.

It all traced back to him.

Explosions and the roar of fire rocked the streets overhead. Edward grabbed his brother and pulled him out of the way of crumbling debris. Goddamnit, if their bikes hadn't broken down, he and Harv would have the kids out on the open road out of town, away from danger.

No use worrying about that now.

The war between Deborah's forces and the criminal underground that had rallied behind the cry of "We are Fullmetal" raged on in the streets, and Edward wanted to hide in a corner and let the sounds pass him by.

"Kid, we're gonna be in trouble if we don't get outta here," Harv snapped, pulling his attention off of staring down the tunnels blankly. There was a way, there had to be.

Part of the tunnel ahead fell in on itself, bodies and vehicles dropping. A grenade dropped out of the mess and rolled towards them. It was years fighting, months in a warzone, that had honed Edward's reflexes to a fine enough point for him to transmute another tunnel shooting off to hide in. "Go!" he yelled, letting Harv grab Anna and pull her into the shelter. Edward all but shoved his brother in, just as the grenade went off. He felt the heat from the explosion.

Those're Drachma regulars!
Shit, go go go!
Look out, Elric!

"Brother, your coat!"

Edward looked behind him at the back of his coat. The ends around his calves smoldered from the fire that had blasted past them. He put out the fire with a flash of alchemical energy from the Stone, then looked out. The other end of the tunnel had collapsed as the first had. No sign of explosives in that heap, but he didn't dare chance it.

He grabbed Alphonse's shoulder with his left hand, his right hand slamming against the wall and extending the tunnel ahead of them. "Go, go, that way's no good."

Harv took off, the kids and Ed on his heels.

"What's the plan here, kid?"

Good question. What was it? The city was under seige, and escapes were running out. The only way to stop their escape routes from collapse was to stop the fighting above, and the only thing that would do that was to eliminate both sides fighting. That was the entirety of the government forces in town and most of the underground.

That was basically everyone, except the trafficking victims.

He had to get rid of everyone. He had to stop the fight. It was the only way his brother was going to get out alive.

Without thinking, he slapped the wall again, pushing at rock and stone until a tunnel shot straight out of the city. "Go, and do not look back," he shouted at them.

Alphonse stopped and stared at him. "Not without you! I'm not losing you again!"

"I'll be right behind you," Edward said, hoping and not hoping that he was lying. "I'm going to put up some defenses to cover the retreat. Help Harv keep Anna safe." When Alphonse didn't budge, Edward resorted to begging. "Al, please, I'm coming, but if I don't do this, none of us are making it out. Now go."

The crack of the command and Edward's true-lie convinced Alphonse to run, and he followed Harv and Anna down the way.

Edward watched them go, felt everything inside seize up, shatter, die, and go numb. I'm so sorry, Al. Maybe he would be able to catch up. If he could, he knew he couldn't run away from this one, not when Al had proven he'd just crawl into any hole Edward could find to get him out.

But Edward wouldn't protest if he didn't make it out of this one alive.

Once sure there was a chance Alphonse wouldn't notice it, Edward transmuted a wall between him and the space where his brother had been. Then he ran back, gathering all the energy in the Stone that he could, and pushed at the ground under the capital city of Aerugo.

The ground heaved and bucked and twisted until the whole city in front of him was twisted into the seven pointed Phoenix array.

"You won't stop him from getting to safety," he whispered to no one, then hit the array.

The world lit up like a firework, exploded, burned angry red, then it fell, and he fell with it, heard the groan and rumble of the city above him collapsing in on him.

Then the Gate.

Then... something else. A swirl of colors and smells and images and something not like the Gate, but like exploding through space and time itself.

Then he was falling again. It felt like forever, but no time at all. And he landed with a crash onto a hard ledge, rolled off, and hit the ground, knocking someone back in the process.
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PARTY PARTY PARTY [Jul. 23rd, 2013|12:22 am]

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Mooj was getting depressed.

There were still 49.9 million people to rehome, and, as that .1 there proved, it was a slow process.

And nobody had done anything to thank the fighters in the Chitauri War. He was pretty sure most of them were still around.

So he decided a celebration party was in order.

It took two weeks to set everything up and call everyone up with invitations, but the arbetorum was soon set up as a gigantic party hall.

Hopefully, people would be able to take time out of their hard schedules to show up.

((Okay, I'm hoping to run this vaguely similar to how Remi handled the Temple's feast in the Nexus. Mingle. Post with whomever, tag whomever. Have fun!)
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Roommates [Jun. 19th, 2013|07:35 pm]

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The situation with Sif was... sticky.

On one hand, Loki didn't terribly mind the company; Sif was generally quiet except when she had to go down for physical therapy, and she avoided his private spaces.

On the other hand, their relationship was still a bit on the strained side, and living together was doing nothing to help that. Oh, they were past their previous animosity, but some people just made poor roommates, no matter how close they were. And they weren't terribly close, not yet.

But having Sif around made Loki realize just how lonely his new life was going to be, with only visits to other realms as an option for company. He wanted a roommate, preferably one that would not be terribly underfoot and wouldn't mind his idiosyncrasies.

Which meant a pet.

Dogs were out, they required too much care and were hard to leave for a few hours while he visited with friends, and there was the whole matter of taking them down to the arbetorum to do their business and then having to clean up the mess.

Ugh, no thank you.

Cats came with self-cleaning litter boxes and were generally private animals, enough that while he'd have companionship, he'd not be crowded by it.

So he sat on the couch and pulled up research on the different breeds to find one that would be compatible with a colder environment, as he had absolutely no intention of keeping it in the seventies in his room once Sif was gone.
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Locating A Missing Grandma [Jun. 17th, 2013|01:05 pm]

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The name Pinako Rockbell finally filtered up through the mess of registrations, and Samantha tracked down a cubicle number for the name. But first, before saying anything, she wanted to verify that the information was correct, and that the person was the right one.

She teleported to the Will Rogers Convention center, into one of the buildings repurposed for staff-only use, and ignored the SHIELD agents as she stepped out into the hot afternoon sun and made a beeline for one of the several buildings that had been converted into shelters.

Walking up and down the makeshift halls created by the room and cubicle dividers and privacy screens, she tracked down the number given to that little plot of land, and knocked on the plastic paneling by the opening.

"Pinako Rockbell?"
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New family [Jun. 11th, 2013|11:48 pm]

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After Ed healed up Fletcher, and after the medical team gave the all-clear for the quarantine order to be lifted, Russell turned to Cap.

"I guess I should probably introduce you to Fletcher now, huh?"
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Taking home the patient [Jun. 10th, 2013|11:19 pm]

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Sif was well enough to leave the hospital, but still not well enough to leave restrictive duties or close access to the hospital in case something happened.

After Thor did some discussing with Jade, he decided to volunteer his brother's home to act as a temporary home for Sif while she finished recovering.

Loki tried to protest, but couldn't really without sounding like a complete asshole.

So on her release day, he was at the rehab center, ready to pick her up.

He entered her room and immediately ducked a flying book. "Sif? What in the name of the gods?" he demanded as he retrieved the book from the floor.
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Matchmaker matchmaker make me a match [Jun. 10th, 2013|06:17 pm]

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Now that the idea had been brought to his attention by Shara's obvious affections, he was sincerely hoping that this was a mutual attraction between her and the captain, and the foretold recovery his sister was supposed to have. He couldn't really ask for better for his sister than Captain America.

He melted out of the shadows outside Cap's office, startling JARVIS, and knocked on the door.
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Checking on a dying sister [Jun. 9th, 2013|01:42 am]

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Since Morkoth was in medbay anyway, he decided to check on his sister, who he hadn't seen in a couple days.

He knocked on her door and then stepped in. "Hey, miss me?"
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A brother's keeper [May. 17th, 2013|12:31 am]

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Russell Tringham was growing restless. The shelters offered in the event complex had been fine when they were temporary, but while they were still temporary, the end of that temporary was rather indefinite. He had thought several days, a week tops. It had been several weeks. Thousands of people were still crowded together, and although no one wanted for food or drink, the heat was stifling despite the claims of 'climate control', which he did notice in the smaller rooms. The cots were not the most uncomfortable place he'd ever slept, but after several weeks, he was ready to move on.

Especially since Fletcher was sick again, and growing worse. He'd taken him to the medical center at the complex several times, and each time, they were sent back with medication to treat symptoms, medication that worked briefly but never held a lasting effect. He wasn't getting better, and the conditions they were staying in was making it worse.

Russell had had enough. He checked on Fletcher, who was sleeping again, and left their small plot of home, making a beeline for the main administrative center. He wasn't sure how he would get Fletcher the help he needed, but he had heard things, rumors, and the talk of technology and medical help far better than what was being offered. He wasn't entirely certain how to get that for Fletcher, but he would play it by ear.

He cut the line and went up to the desk, interrupting the clerk. "I want to speak with someone in charge here!"

"Please take a number and get-"

"I've had enough number-taking," Russell said. "My brother's dying and you people are doing jack-all to help him! I know that the other State Alchemists have had access to better things than what you're claiming you're have, and I want to know why my brother's being denied! I want to speak with someone in charge!"

An older woman, with long, straight hair of a faded strawberry blonde, walked over. "Please, there's no need to shout, step over here and talk to me, what's going on?"

A bit placated that he was getting attention from someone who seemed higher up on the ladder, Russell dropped his voice. "I've spoken with other State Alchemists, and I understand there's a spaceship with advanced medical technology. I need to know why I've been kept out of this loop. My brother's dying, and he needs this help."

She frowned, tilting her head to the side. "I thought we had already accounted for all the State Alchemists, or former State Alchemists," she admitted. "I apologize for this oversight." She turned to a computer terminal and started typing. "What's your name?"

He hesitated. He hadn't really thought that one through, throwing the State Alchemists around. He didn't exactly say in any clear terms that he was one. He was an alchemist, though. But it did sound like there might be a way to get Fletcher help.

"Your name?" She looked at him again.

"I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist," Russell said.

"The- You're Edward Elric?" the woman asked, her tone and face unreadable. He screwed down his courage and didn't waver.

"That's right."

"And your brother is Alphonse Elric?"

"Yes, and he's very, very sick right now. Can we get him to your spaceship?"

"Where is he?"

"Back on his cot, asleep again."

"All right. I'll see what I can do." She picked up the phone, dialing a number. "Tony? Do you know where Samantha is? Do you have a number for that? All right, I'll wait." She looked to Russell. "The call is being transferred now."

Her attention left him and refocused back on the phone. "Hello? Samantha? This is Pepper. I have an Edward Elric here with a very, very ill Alphonse Elric. What should I do?"

Russell fidgeted, growing nervous and trying to not let it show.

"All right, that's what I thought." She hung up and looked to Russell. "Please have a seat. Someone will come and speak with you and get your brother some help."

At a loss for what else to do, Russell sat, hoping his idea didn't backfire on him.
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An unlikely pair [May. 3rd, 2013|04:59 pm]

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Loki checked in on Sif regularly, keeping his brother updated with telepathic contact as to her progress. She'd recovered to rehab, finally, and she was very vocal about her frustration with the process.

"It's for your own good, you know," he pointed out one day.
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