last_of_shadows: (Default)
[personal profile] last_of_shadows
He felt the Doomgiver die. He felt the sudden sundering of the connection to his fellow Shadowtroopers that had become a lifeline to him. The Jedi were closing - the raining swamps of Yavin had become a killing ground. Why couldn't he feel their hate? He had been trained, trained for years, to hate them - hate the rebels. But in the moment he, felt the Jedi fighting them, bringing down his fellows all around him.

Lightsaber-resistant armour or not, it didn't stop their blades forever. There where weaknesses, and they found them. They did it without hate, without rage. But with a terrible determination - and pity. It was more terrifying to him than anything he had ever experienced.

He fell back, clutching at his head, as if his fingers could reach through the cortosis helmet and stop what he was feeling. He reeled, rebounding off a pillar and falling to his knees, scrambling away. He held to his red lightsaber like grim death, utterly unsure what to do. Part of him, dimly, realized just how damaged his mind had become. But had no idea what to do.

The Jedi had reminded him of a past. Before the Force had been infused into him, before the Empire. When he had just walked under a warm sun and felt nothing but peace, and a yearning for adventure, to do greater things. Half his life warred with the other half, and he had no idea what would win.

In that moment, he hoped a Jedi's saber would find him soon. And end the confusion.

But instead there was...something. And then he realized he had awoken.

He sat up, suddenly, breathing heavily. This isn't Yavin. He could feel it, with the Force. It felt...wrong. He couldn't explain how. And he was in a park. A strange, alien world, that much was clear.

With a groan, he rolled onto his side, and then pushed himself to his knees. He checked, briefly, to ensure his Artusian crystal was still mounted into his chestplate. Much as he hated it, he needed the Force now. And he had no idea, none at all, what would happen if he lost it.

He searched for a comlink, the need to understand temporarily quieting the raging maelstrom in his mind. He needed the others. He needed someone.

Because in this strange land, he had no idea whatsoever what he was going to do. Was he SW-493? Or Gavin Thayne? Time would tell.
beastisbeauty: (roars)
[personal profile] beastisbeauty
Bruce is slowly acquainting himself with this version of New York City. He tries to spend as much time as he can in his labs, but there is only so much that can be done in a day. Sometimes, science requires patience, sitting back and letting things happen.

Also, there is the very real possibility that he will spend the rest of his life here. Bruce doesn't intend to spend it alone, isolated from the people of this world. He's had enough of that in his life. As difficult as it is for him, Bruce knows he has to make connections and find people who are willing to accept both him and the Hulk.

He needs the Hulk to learn how to quickly tell friend from foe.

Unfortunately, Bruce's deep thoughts mean he is not paying enough attention to his surroundings. He crosses the road at the last moments before the crossing light changes from "walk" to "don't walk." Unfortunately, a car also speeds towards him, barely pausing at a stop sign.

The result is Bruce getting hit in the side by the car and going flying over the hood.

This wakes the Hulk up.

Hulk ignores the driver, who gets out of the car to help Bruce and then flees, when he sees the Hulk. Instead, the Hulk focuses on the man's car, pummeling it angrily and tearing it into pieces. This only takes a few moments, then Hulk stops and looks around the street. People are screaming and running, but, so far, no one is trying to hurt Hulk or shooting stupid bullets.
beastisbeauty: (Default)
[personal profile] beastisbeauty
Bruce is in Central Park, taking notes on the rift and comparing to some data he brought with him, when it happens. There are people nearby, but they are ignoring him. After all, there isn't much to see, just a blandly dressed, professor type, reading from a stack of papers. He blends in well enough, something Bruce is grateful for. There are two, pretty ladies nearby, wearing exercise gear and talking about cameras on their cell phones.

Except, suddenly, the two ladies are either talking gibberish or in a language Bruce is unfamiliar with. He looks up, puzzled, and sees the ladies eyeing each other in confusion. One of them asks something, based on her tone, but the other shakes her head, frowning. Bruce shakes his head, since it isn't his business, and stares back down at his data sheets. They are meaningless. What was perfectly clear English moments ago, now looks like something typed by hitting buttons randomly on a keyboard.

"Excuse me," he calls out to the women, hoping one of them will be able to understand him. He gets up, taking a cautious step forward, but the women both back away, staring at him and each other warily. The taller woman turns and begins running away, putting distance between them. Bruce swallows, his heart rate rising quickly. If language is breaking down and no one can be understood, even writing...

Bruce moves down the path to an area where there are signs, posters and bulletins he read with easy disinterest earlier in the day. They are nonsense. Bruce tries to imagine what is happening, but nothing comes to mind, save someone might have drugged him! That is not good, though the breakdown of communication would be utterly worse. He shudders, feeling the Other Guy wrestling for control. Bruce fights.

Bruce might have won the conflict, but a man comes up to him and begins shaking him, speaking at him in a quick, pleading tone, his eyes wide with terror. Bruce shoves him away, but the man keeps coming towards him, his voice raising, becoming faster and harsher, until he is screaming. Bruce shakes his head again, tries to tell the man he can't understand him. The stranger grabs Bruce's arm roughly and that ends things. Bruce shoves him hard and moments later, it isn't Bruce. It's Hulk. Hulk roars and pounds the ground, waiting for things to start making sense again. The man is already gone, fleeing when he saw Bruce transforming.

[OOC: Sorry for length. Any and all are welcome.]
has_a_horn: (multiples | frenetic)
[personal profile] has_a_horn
Gabriel likes to know both sides of the story. When he'd first gotten dumped out here in New York, he'd been introduced to the idea of Romac and the Rebel faction. So far, he's met Romac, he's seen their set-up, gotten a feel of what they're up to. What he hasn't had is a chance to see inside the highly acclaimed rebel base, or get more than a gist of their goals, which is why he decides to go looking for it.

Someone he'd talked to about the rebels had said they were underground. Of course, that could have been a metaphor, but underground is as good a place as any to start looking. It would have be close to the park and the rift, so it's lunchtime, and Gabriel is sitting along the wall at Fifth Avenue station watching people rush to and fro. He's reading minds, looking for clues to where he can find an in to the base, but also just sitting and enjoying the show.

He'd spent the morning right here.

Two hours before, he'd watched as a businessman pushed aside a young woman in a rush to get on his leaving train. Gabriel smiled and made him think that the doors to the train were already closed, then watched as he ran after the train, tripped, and fractured his wrist. Half an hour after that, he amplifies the music of an amazing busker with a violin. Half an hour after that, he fails to get the violinists' phone number, even after a fairly impressive magic show.

Half an hour later, he'd lounged across the bench that now, mysteriously, does not have seat dividers, his eyes closed as he listened. He snapped his fingers and a candy-cane appeared. He unwrapped it and shoved it into his mouth. At the far end of the platform, a man who was considering groping the girl in front of him was groped by a tall burly man in a leather vest who then disappeared.

Now, he's sitting upright again, and he's getting bored. He brings another candy cane out (green apple) and starts looking around for something more entertaining to do.
beastisbeauty: (Default)
[personal profile] beastisbeauty
Bruce Banner is in his laboratory. He has been studying the rift and is currently analyzing soil and vegetable samples from the area, comparing them to samples taken from other areas of the city. He works with his head down, mainly ignoring the other people in the area, who are doing their own work. Like always, Bruce is polite, diffident even, but distant.

Bruce is not content to remain in this reality, even if the rebels should ultimately defeat ROMAC and their unjust laws. Freedom is well and good, but he has a team to get back to. Bruce Banner wants to return to the Avengers, the only friends he had made, since creating the Hulk. He had purpose in his home reality and he is determined to get that back.

current location: rebel base laboratory
fragmentation: (Serious - Contemplative)
[personal profile] fragmentation
James is having a pretty regular day. They're planetside, on a lovely little world called Hedenex. He's taking an exploratory stroll, dressed in one of his three-pieces suits, walking through the complex cityscape they're visiting, enjoying the unfamiliar sky.

He's spent most of the day running around with Andrew, seeing sights, meeting people, testing the cuisine, and letting the dogs stretch their legs a bit too. But Andrew and the dogs only have so much energy, so James has left them to get some rest. James doesn't really need to worry about those things, so he's been getting some exploring done on his own. It's a very welcoming area.

He's just about to head back to ship, when he stumbles. This in itself is unusual, given how surefooted he normally is. But it only gets weirder from there. His systems go haywire, his vision and most of his senses cut out completely. There's a moment of panic, but he doesn't have long to dwell on it before he wakes up in an entirely different place. That is, places.


James, or rather the Ambrose part of him, comes to on a streetcorner on the Upper East Side, near Harlem. He's breathing, which is most unconventional. When did he start breathing? Up until a moment (or however long it's been) ago, he was completely robotic.

It's not the first time he's been put in a flesh body, however, so he manages to adjust fairly quickly, getting slowly to his feet. He doesn't much care for the cold, though. Perhaps this is just another Time Scoop, but it's usually less unpleasant.

But no... Because there's something missing. Great chunks of his mind are gone, and he feels strangely empty. Oh, not his memories. Those are still there. Not as organised and reliable now he's got a biological body, but there. His two imported personalities. The Doctor and the Master. They're gone. Yet somehow he can still sense them. As if they're here, but not part of him anymore. He's not sure what this means.

It doesn't occur to him how strange he must look, standing here in the cold, looking confused and lost.


Across town, the Doctor wakes up. He's in a café in the East Village, down on 10th street - though he himself doesn't know much more than that it's a café, and that he's currently slumped against the wall in a booth.

He goes through much the same thought process as Ambrose. They have the same memories of course, more or less the same mental capacities; the only difference is how they react to it. And the Doctor is worried. Deeply worried. If he's split free, that means the Master is probably also wandering around somewhere. He can feel that much. A presence in his mind, but far too distant and vague for him to pinpoint it.

First of all, where is he? His surroundings aren't much help. Back in his old body, he could've smelled it. He's not sure how reliable this new nose is, but he hasn't the memories to recall which place smells like what anymore in any case. It definitely doesn't look much like Hedenex, though.

He prods the shoulder of a random patron. "Pardon me, but could you tell me where I am?"


Meanwhile, approximately right between the two others, in the back of a dark McDonalds on 42nd street, right off Times Square, the Master version of James wakes up.

He, unlike the two others, is not quite so worried, once he's realised what's happened. In fact, he's rather delighted. His personality is often kept quite buried, at least compared to the other two. He's not so keen on finding them, though he feels that they're here somewhere, now he's finally got a body of his own.

He grins to himself, and pushes out the backdoor of the restaurant, out onto 41st street. It's not particularly crowded, but there are a few walking around. "You, human, where am I?" he asks one of them.
has_a_horn: (awe | look up | smirk)
[personal profile] has_a_horn
It's Las Vegas, 1960, and Gabriel has snapped himself back in time. He's sitting front and center in the Copa room at the Sands Casino, listening to Frank, Deano and Sammy croon their hearts out. Ever since that whole averted-apocalypse business, the past is generally the only place that's entirely safe and snug from anyone and anything that might know what he really is. He's grown attached to the body he's been living in for the past few thousand years, and he'd hate to change it without good reason. That, and Las Vegas in the sixties really was something worth appreciating.

Well, he thinks, it may be a few decades away from the Spearmint Rhino, but that doesn't stop a man of my unique imagination from having a good time. He's been here for a week and has already staked out a particular mobster that's ripe for a deservedly ironic death, but if he's being honest with himself, Gabriel would admit that he's not really ready to part with this particular scene just yet.

The tall, busty brunette sitting next to him isn't exactly human, or in fact real at all, but he pushes a drink across to her nonetheless. He smirks around a blissful sip of a delightfully anachronistic butterscotch appletini and watches as she picks up her glass. Her smirk when she drinks matches his exactly, a mirror image. On stage, Frank starts singing New York, New York. Gabriel had spent the last few minutes wondering how long he'd have to give Sinatra laryngitis before the singer started offering to change his ways. He sighs now, tiring of the idea, and slides his gaze back to a mobster he'd been watching off and on since he'd arrived.

"So," He leans towards his companion, brushing aside her wavy hair to whisper into her ear. "What next? Time for some action? How do you feel about alien abduction? Classic, right?" He nods in the man's direction, nuzzling against her cheek in the process.

The truth was, though, that he isn't feeling particularly into the vengeance game at the moment. He'd been feeling a bit restless, a bit at a loose end. Knowing this, his companion hmms in response, then speaks, breathy and seductive, "Don't you want to wait for desert? Or..." The brunette turns her head to face him and presses a kiss to his jawline. "...we could always go back to the suite."

He grins at the projection, having finally come to a decision with himself about what to do with the rest of his night, and shakes a finger at her to emphasize his point. The trickster business can wait another night. He has real silk sheets to appreciate. "That's the best idea I've had all night."

He's about to snap his fingers and bring himself back to his room, when something in the air shifts. He lifts his head and squints his eyes, as if trying to listen to a far off and tinny sound. There's definitely something in the air that's not right. He stands abruptly and looks around. He can't detect any particular point of change. The entire place feels suddenly different and he's not going to stick around to find out just who has taken a sudden interest in tracking his ass down. He raises his hand, ready to snap himself away.

In the Copa at the Sands casino, 1960, the room swims with cigarette smoke, glasses clink against glasses, and Sinatra sings.

These little town blues... are melting away... I'm gonna make a brand new start of it... in old New York...

A table, front and center, is suddenly empty. No one notices.

Bethesda terrace, 2012, an archangel-turned-trickster suddenly appears and stares up at a statue of an angel. He lowers his hand without having snapped his fingers at all.

beastisbeauty: (Default)
[personal profile] beastisbeauty
It's Christmas Day and Bruce could use a miracle or two. He doesn't know how he got here or how to get back. He can't find Tony or Avenger's Tower. To be honest, Bruce is a bit disgusted with himself at how easily he got used to having a team to rely on and a home to go back to. He's been living in a homeless shelter, looking for work. Naturally, he's missing some important papers, so he needs under the table work. That's all right. Bruce has experience at this sort of thing. Right now, he's heading for the docks, to see if he can get some work there.
beastisbeauty: (roars)
[personal profile] beastisbeauty
The Hulk roars, swatting a Doombot out of his way, trying to find the real Dr. Doom. He's been a member of the Avengers for five months now and is getting used to watching for the others. Puny Banner still keeps him locked away most of the time, but Hulk is enjoying greater freedom. He is discovering there are certain things and people that he can smash, without puny ones fussing about it too much.

Hulk is just about to swipe away another small group of Doom's henchman, when a strange feeling washes over him. He feels dizzy, a flying sensation, then wet. Roaring in displeasure, the Hulk finds himself standing in a fountain, near a lake. The air is cold, but the Hulk doesn't mind that.

He minds that his team is gone, the Doombots are gone, and he's been moved! He wants very much to smash whoever thinks they can move Hulk! Hulk was busy smashing and wants to be smashing still! Hulk feels Banner stirring in the back of his mind, but Banner is puny.

Hulk lets out a tremendous roar, hoping the other Avengers will here and find him, taking him back to the battle.

Current location: Bethesda Terrace, Central Park


bigapplesauce: (Default)
The Big Applesauce


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