Mira looked at the gate a moment.  IT looked the same as the last day she had actually been on the property.  Her parents' lawyers had finally tracked her down.  She had agreed to go to the house only because she knew she had to deal with it.  After all, the company had since moved from the location, though they kept the property for her, as was stated in their will.

blah blah woof )
The Godstorm came at New York City, gathering other storms nearby to it. It wanted power Thor's little hammer couldn't easily undo. The Godstorm had underestimated the god once. If he showed up again, he would be ready. His reach was expansive. All along the Atlantic Coast, they felt his raging wrath. Even glancing touches from his circulating clouds brought damage.

There was warning he was coming, but Godstorm cared not one whit. He want right toward the harbor, using its funneling effect and the high tides from the moon to shove torrents of water into the megalopolis. He pushed on shore, making his way inland.

He was looking for something. Not that the small people trying to survive the hurricane coming ashore knew that. Their survival was not even a concern. He just pushed on land and spread his reach. He pushed his storm inland and the requisite flooding came with it. The winds howled and shards of glass broke off skyscrapers and added sharp damage to the mayhem.
It had been so long since he had felt the sensation of physical flesh and blood. In fact he had no idea just how long it had been. Time in Mephisto's Hell blurred as one torment seemed to melt into another in an endless cycle of pain and depravity. It came to the point where he could barely remember his own living past. Through all the torment he did remember a few things, his name, that he had been someone of importance, and an undying hatred of Captain America. These facts somehow kept his soul from completely breaking under the pain. It seemed his stubborn refusal to simply be just another broken soul caught Mephisto's attention, and the Hell-Lord had made him a singular offer. In exchange for a new, demonic life upon Earth once more, Zemo had to destroy the Avengers within a years time. If successful, Heinrich would be reborn as a human in the prime of his life. Failure would mean complete annihilation. In the end it was really no choice at all. Heinrich accepted, and using his newfound powers, returned to the Earthly plane. To Zemo's surprise more time had passed than he had imagined, a new group of striplings now made up the Avengers. As much as he desired vengeance on Captain America, he had to fulfill his contract with Mephisto first. That meant that these children had to die. Zemo was no fool and knew arrogance had led to his death and would not underestimate his opponents again.

His transformation into a demon had not just been physical, but also mental. Zemo learned that he now had a much greater affinity for dark magicks. While a man of science in life, Zemo would use any tool he had to to gain what he desired. Converting his body into raw, demonic essence, he moved through the night sky unseen by the humans below until he came to the headquarters of the Avengers. He moved towards it, his essence expanding and bonding with the building, an action completely unnoticeable to those on the street. When finished, all reality within the building was his to manipulate. Time to see just what these modern-day wunderkind could do.
 Mira was sore all over, the training session with Nicky had taught her one thing at least.  Out of armor she was in WAY over her head.  Not that she was going to complain though.  Only reason she had ditched the armor was the simulation had thrown an EMP at it that had taken it out for a few minutes.

Despite being sore she was on the bike, mostly to get some fresh air.  thumbing the button to open up a com channel she had the bike's AI call up Vincent, she was in the mood to actually just do something silly, and figured might be fun to drag him along.  Coney Island would work, her bike could get jealous of a roller coaster for all she cared.  "Hey Vincent, you busy with anything?  Well okay anything with time constraints?"
Ree spent most of her time at the Mansion holed up in the lab, the gym, or her room. She didn't socialize much and it had required near-bribery to get her to come down for the last pizza night. She just couldn't spare the time, she told herself. She needed every moment for her project.

But a few months in nothing was closer to being solved. She was running both out of time and out of energy. And her headaches were worse. Maybe she needed a break. With that in mind she crept out of her room and went down to one of the common areas.
Every night for the last few months, Niklas Thorson of Asgard had been having the same dream. He was standing outside an icy cave, cold gusts of wind battering his face as he waited for the mysterious figure in a scarlet cloak and hood to appear. As always, the mysterious figure’s face was obscured in darkness. As always, the figure beckoned Nicky closer, to follow them into the cave. As always, Nicky stood his ground, and beckoned the figure to come to him. He would not follow a faceless figure into the dark, cold cave, because he knew what lay there, and it was something he wanted no part of. As always, the figure would hesitate and step closer to Nicky. Each time though, he would reach out to yank the figure’s hood off their face, but just as the face was about to be revealed, he would wake up.

As he did tonight, a cold sweat coating his lithe, deceptively strong body. His hand reached up to touch the axe pendant he always wore around his neck. It was, mercifully, still there.

Not that many others could really lift it. The thing had the mass of a star.

Nicky swung his legs over the edge of his bed and shoved his feet into the fuzzy Throg slippers that sat at the end of his bed. Wrapping his thick, red robe over his bare chest, he padded downstairs.

Nicky needed mead. Mead and a whole stack of prime ribs.
(this immediately follows this post: http://nextgenerationmarvel.dreamwidth.org/58549.html#comments)

Bruce sat in his chair in the meeting room, mulling over the report he was writing for the files on their battle at Project Pegasus.  Yes, they'd stopped the super-villains, but he had the feeling that they'd really lost the day.  According to PEGASUS's inventory, a handful of scientific devices had been stolen, but nothing that was expressly dangerous in and of itself.  Just various pieces of energy research.

Sure, you could probably eventually turn some of it into a power source for a weapon, but there were way easier ways out there.  And how had they managed to steal anything?  Security cameras briefly showed some kind of blur, but not one of the super-villains they'd been fighting.

It didn't add up.

Fortunately, the others (and their new SHIELD Liaison, possibly less fortunate there) were on their way for a meeting.  He'd even (somewhat reluctantly) called in Vincent to get a scientific viewpoint on things.

She had managed to survive the questioning from S.H.I.E.L.D. though she had a feeling that they weren't really done when she and the others were released, but not like they knew anything else. 

She was still trying to figure out how she had been grabbed from the mansion, though that wasn't where she had been asked to be dropped off in the early morning.  At this point she didn't care.  The agent that had driven her was still waiting, despite her telling him it would be fine.  Ringing for Vincent's place she waited for him to answer hoping he was still up.  

That was when her bike decided to try to reconnect with her.  It started as a light tingling in the arm with the band, which she shook, hoping it was just nerves.  Few seconds later it was burning, actually bringing her to her knees, biting down on her lip she leaned against the doorjamb cradling the arm with her other.  By then the Agent had left her, at least she wouldn't be poked and prodded by their medics.  She closed her eyes a moment reaching for her cell to try to call home, if Vincent didn't get there soon she was going to get them to pick her up.

"Please... cool it, I know you're angry so am I.  Just ease up the link."  The words were barely mumbled as her hand fumbled and she dropped her cell, the number for the mansion dialing.

The sound of spotlights coming on could be heard, and the darkness that had embraced the people within the room had disappeared. Instead, they were on what looked like an elaborate stage... something out of a reality TV show like the Bachelor. As if things could not get stranger, a large, 65" LED TV came to life, showing a young woman in a white jacket, green shirt, and a horrible yellow and orange polka dot tie.

"Ah! Our lovely contestants have woken up! Welcome, welcome one and all to Murderworld 2012!" The neuro-implants in the sides of her eyes began to glow a bright green in color, and her face had a large smile upon it. "These contestants were carefully selected to take part in the most fun, and dangerous version of Murderworld yet! Winners get to live, if we have any winners, that is. And the losers? Well, they get to die horribly painful and elaborate deaths!"
Mira was scrambling, trying to find something decent to wear, even if technically she was just going to visit Vincent in the lab.  Six outfits later she came out of her room, Lucifer over her shoulder.  She was actually wearing HEELS!  the skirt was tastefully summery and the sleeveless blouse looked more model than rocker.  

"Ugh, I'm already running late,"  She started for the door, dialing for a cab because no way in hell was she going to ride her bike in this get up.  Hopefully no one else in the house would see her dolled up, she had a feeling she'd never live it down.
Bruce sat in the mission war room, bringing up various pieces of data on the computer, projecting holographic screens into the air.

"In prison... in prison...  last know crime... last known crime..."

He manipulated some more data, looking over countless records and pulling the files into sections.

Something... something definitely wasn't right, and a pattern was beginning to emerge.

"Okay," he said aloud.  "What're you trying to tell me...?"
Who: Mira and any Avengers around
What: movie night?

Okay, so popping in a movie at dark thirty in the morning probably wasn't a good thing, but Mira had taken over the TV and was curled up on the couch with a large bowl of popcorn beside her, one of the robotic teddy bears she had been working on in her lap, shifting a little she made herself comfortable before pushing the button to turn on the movie.

Movie of choice tonight? Young Frankenstein, because who can resist a black and white? The pile on the table before her is just as silly, Men in Tights and Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  Snagging a handful of popcorn she pops one kernel into her mouth at a time as the movie starts.  
Once things had gotten settled and she realized she had more than enough of her own works to display, Alisa rented out some gallery space in Manhattan to showcase it all. She was positively giddy about getting her work out in the open, as well as teaching art classes from her personal studio. All were close to her apartment, so she merely had to walk over to the gallery to open the doors.

The sign above the Gallery simply said "Gallery LeBeau", which gave her a sense of pride. This was something she always dreamed about doing. Now that the Guilds were out of her life and she had finally gone legit, things were really looking up.

Tonight would be a "free night" to display her artwork, before she would begin charging admission. Only half of of the paintings were priced to sell, while the others would be kept in her private collection. No food or alcohol would be served at this event, as it was something Alisa hated seeing at Art Galleries. People should not get wasted or stuff themselves while viewing artwork! It could only lead to disaster!

Dressed in a rather retro 1950's dress with white gloves and a matching red high heel on her foot (as her other leg had no need for a show. The glories of having a prosthetic), Alisa stood behind the desk in her gallery. She waited for people to come in and see the all the art she had on display.
Vincent was restless. School was now a part-time affair, and he was working from home for his obligations to Stark most of the time. There had been no crime-fighting to speak of, and only some token magical research to keep his skills sharp. He hadn't started a pet project in ages.

...so maybe he could start one.

He let his mind wander back to the rescue he'd made of that armored girl, Mira, in the river. There had been serial numbers on a couple of the components of her equipment. Serial numbers mean registration, and contact information. It doesn't take him more than a couple minutes to have a cell number.

"Hello, Mira?"
While some of the furor over the revelation that Xavier's was a school for mutants had died down, there were still reporters broadcasting from outside the school gates. There were daily reports on what they thought was going on in the school and more reports on what public officials were doing to calm fears. As reporters dug for soundbites to fill the air, little bits of "news" were put out for the public to see.

As the world looked in, the X-Men tried to keep doing their daily routines. Though as more news was reported it became more difficult to live there formerly anonymous lives.
The eight foot tall Hulk wandered the streets, not really knowing where it was. Its heavy footfall sometimes making things shake just a little. Most people and things gave it a wide berth. Those that didn't got growled at; then they gave it an entire sidewalk to itself.

It wasn't sure where it was going. It had just destroyed the building that had captured it. Or destroyed the building over the mad doctor's lab who had captured it. Either way, there was rubble behind the Hulk, on its shoulders, and in its hair.

It walked down the street, looking around. It was trying to figure out where it could go to have some peace. To get away from the doctor it had left behind in the rubble.
 Mira had wondered around the building a little, staying to the more public areas, she was feeling caged in her room, despite the accommodations.  Humming softly as she walked she found the rec room had the best acoustics.   Seeing the seat in the window she grinned walking over to it, flipping Lucifer so that she could play the guitar as she went.  The guitar was acoustic and electric, though she didn't bring the small amp she had with her.  Sitting at the window she fiddled with the strings a little, tuning the guitar before she started playing, keeping her voice down, after all she didn't want to distract anyone.
Finishing the first song she started in on another.

She didn't realize she was getting a little louder, as she sang, getting lost in her thoughts, her eyes darkening to black, she was lost in the music for now, though any requests would probably be played if given.
Mira bit her lip as she stopped the bike, looking at the building that resided at the address she had gotten. This is stupid I shouldn't still be in New York I should have left already. She thought as she touched the band strapped to her wrist.

"Right, only one way to get this done." Mira slid off the bike, leaving it in that mode, wouldn't do to start a war with the people she wanted as allies because of a misunderstanding. Hitting the com button she waited until someone answered.
Motorcycle's in the parking lot
Revving their engines and it just won't stop
Matches the noise screaming in my head
Houston, I think we got a problem
Mira was walking through the Central Park Zoo, there was a crowd of school kids running between the monkey cage and the elephants that caused her to dance back a few steps to avoid getting bowled over by the third graders. Sipping at the hot chocolate she had bought she headed for the tiger exhibit.

There were panicked screams from behind her, where she had passed the kids. Turning she saw several running her way. Mira thought a moment trying to remember the layout of the zoo from the map she had. Pointing she hissed reptile house to the kids as she headed the way they had come from, maybe she'd be able to figure out what was going on. No doubt someone was already texting and or calling the police right? The kids had been in uniforms, one of the ritzy schools in the city, though she hadn't been in town long enough to figure out which one.

The device on her wrist beeped, warning her someone was messing with the weapon. Mira pulled herself against a decorative wall. Did they find me already? Usually I get at least a day before the government finds me. Taking a deep breath she stepped back into the path her eyes scouting for anything she could use as a weapon as she headed for the monkey cage. It was probably stupid of her, but if the kids got hurt because she was there she'd never forgive herself.


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The Next Generation of Marvel Heroes

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