latverianregent:

Progress was considerable on all of Kristoff's current projects, both technical and diplomatic. He'd worked hard to do his job to the fullest, to help fulfill his family's and his country's agreements, to make his Master/Father proud.

But there was something he had not attended to in a while. A personal ritual of sorts. And so, although he wore his armor with the built-in communication line, in case he was needed at the Castle, Kristoff left that towering structure and went to the outskirts of Doomstadt. To the gypsy funeral grounds.

He knelt beside a particular tree, and he told her what he'd done, and he told her that he loved her and missed her. More than a dozen years hadn't changed that.

He stayed a little longer than usual, trying first to keep, then to regain, his composure. A Von Doom does not cry where anyone could possibly see.

latverianregent:

Kristoff watched the news and was... vexed. He telephoned Tony Stark.

legends_baddie:


Quasimodo walked over the crumpled bodies of the AIM personnel as he began his search of the lab. The location was on a small unmarked island in the Pacific. Norman Osborn had discovered this group of AIM scientists, but saw them as little threat and wrote them off. Normally Quasimodo would agree, but this group had been studying a subject that interested him, biomechanics. They were looking for ways to create humanoids with bionic enhancements of a less mechanical nature. What the Living Computer wanted more than anything, was to attain a human body. If what these AIM scientists had tried to do worked, then feasibly not only could Quasimodo create a body for himself, but a body that would allow him to transfer his power as well. On that glorious day, his life would begin anew. He'd use Osborn's archives to make him a power unto himself. 

"At last I will be the master. It will take time, but if there is one thing a living computer has, it's patience."

Quasimodo then began to sift through AIM's files.

latverianregent:

Kristoff was being kept pretty busy by the current projects, and by his fears. Suddenly, he noticed a call coming in on the private line. He pulls it up and bows.

"Sir."

latverianregent:

As a rule, Kristoff Venard did not do magic. No matter how much he knew, or how hard he worked, he did not do it very well. It had something to do with his accursed natural father; that was the impression Doom gave. Doom took it in stride and simply muttered that Kristoff was all the stronger for managing with inferior genes.

So Kristoff didn't do much magic, as he he was educated in the arts enough to know how inelegant and clumsy he was, and he hated seeing himself that way.

As a rule, Kristoff would also never betray a confidence. Especially that of a potential ally of the Master of Latveria.

And yet here he is. Doing both. He corrects himself. His word was never exacted by Jericho. But that only made talking about Doom's potential associates behind his back marginally easier.

The spell was cast clumsily and inelegantly and Kristoff hated it, but it was done well enough to work.

argent_noir:

 Silver hates it when work gets messy.

It was supposed to be a simple job, a simple caravan guarding job.  Realistically, though, there is never anything simply about war torn countries with starving and powerless people.  The UN food drops, which are a good idea, are never as straightforward as Silver would like but when they go badly, they go so very very badly.  The local gangs try to take the shipments, the government wants to keep it for themselves to make money off of it and everyone else just didn't want to starve.  Sometimes being the good guys makes it that much harder and that much uglier when it all goes down.  People get hurt and on really bad days, people get killed.

A continent away now, post mission briefings over, money collected and Wild Pack paid, Silver allows herself a few moments of silent introspection.  These weigh heavily on her, though she'll never show it in public.  The cost of doing business is the cost of keeping her country safe.  Not every country has someone like her and not ever country ever could.  Still, these people deserve better than the tyrants and despots who think themselves leaders.

Not for the first time, the wonders if she should actually allow herself a short vacation.

latverianregent:

He checked that it was a reasonable hour before he made the call. It felt more appropriate, somehow, than bringing these latest developments to the attention of SHIELD or Dr. Richards.

He called the place he'd found out about in Oklahoma.

"Dr. Kristoff Vernard to speak to Anthony Stark, please."

go_ape:

It's a relatively quiet day in Latveria, when the saucer appears over the castle, humming with energy and shining brightly as a holographic display appears before it. A gorilla bellows in dynamic tones.

"All shall bow before Woo Yen Jet! Master of the Golden Horde and The Atlas Foundation, whose visage silences even crying babies! He who is Khan of the Eternal Empire! He would have words with whoever rules over this land!"

Damn but there ain't nothin' like a good entrance. Even if he's spewing out scripted lines.

latverianregent:

It was a time of indulgence. Kristoff was playing one of his Leslie Fish albums while he worked on blueprints for the changes in irrigation systems. The nationwide effort for expanding the innovative and inexpensive power grid was going well; and looked to improve quality of life as well as economic production possibilities. But always cleanly. There could be no turning of the country into one of the many filthy, polluted places in other parts of Eastern Europe. This was Latveria.

So he's happily working, and humming along to the music.

"Young -- I mean, Dr. Vernard?" One of the staff asks.
"Yes, Hans?"
"There's an official screen-call for you."
He won't get excited. He knows who it's not -- Doom would have used the private connection set up for him, most likely. "Thank you, Hans. Have them put it on screen here."
Kristoff turns the music down and straightens his ever-formal posture even more.

legends_media:

"Today's top story in the corporate world is the complete takeover of Oscorp assets by the fledging new conglomerate, Diaboulus. Oscorp had suffered significantly after it's CEO, former Seceretary of Defense Norman Osborn, was arrested for his treasonous actions. When it seemed his former company would be liquidated entirely, reclusive CEO Malik Jericho bought the rights to the company's former patents and subsidiaries. This reporter had a chance to briefly speak to Mr. Jericho after his meeting with former Oscorp executives."

The camera cuts to the report running up to a tall, black man with a slight eerie presence to him.

"Mr. Jericho, what do you say to the rumors that your company  is looking to exploit whatever shady dealings Mr. Osborn may have had in the works?"

The man turns down to face the reporter.

""No one is going to claim that the things Norman Osborn has done both as the Green Goblin and as Secretary of Defense were not deplorable. However his company is full of bright minds and hard workers who shouldn't suffer due to their employer's actions. I saw an opportunity to preserve jobs and make a profit while doing it. As for whether we turn up anything Osborn may have been working on, well you can just ask SHIELD officials, who will confirm that Diabolous will be more than cooperative in handing over anything Osborn may have left behind.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment."

The big man entered his limosine as the reporter directed the camera back to her coworkers at the station.

latverianregent:

It had been an invitation Kristoff could not refuse, however much he disliked parties. A minor international conference on developing technologies. Several foundations and lobbying organizations interested in Latveria's newfound 'philanthropy and progressiveness' had hoped to see him there. And wasn't that the way it should be? Kristoff knew what had started this, but maybe Latveria could continue to grow and prosper and influence by continuing it. Wasn't that the way to rule the world: by showing you were the best, until the world would settle for no other? Couldn't it be like that, maybe? Perhaps the plans Kristoff was happy not to know of would not even be necessary, in the long run. A boy could dream.
He also hoped to at least get a word with people such as Queen Judith at some point to try to bridge the distance between their kingdoms.

Another high profile guest, he was much less interested in meeting. It was...a little embarrassing, to think of what the Master had done -- with the best of intentions, of course. Always with the best of intentions, but... Kristoff tried to force back those thoughts. Best not to think about that, or think about the Master at all, right now. Latveria was his responsibility for now, and he was going to do what he thought best for it.

lunatic_laugh:

Well, things had moved a little faster than he'd expected, but here he was. Jet-setting across the Atlantic and into the heart of old-world Europe to interview the new face in charge of Latveria, Kristoff Vernard. Phil understood all too well that he wasn't getting this assignment because he'd earned it or because he was the best guy qualified for it.

He was getting this assignment because he was the only reporter at the Bugle still young and crazy enough to go into the capital city of the nation with the highest number of death rays per capita in the world and interview the possibly crazy guy that the probably crazier guy just put in almost-charge.

But hey, at least the flight attendants (or was he supposed to call them stewardesses now?) on the way over were cute, and friendly. Apparently being a journalist on foreign assignment ranked somewhere better than 'photography student', but was an expected far cry from the automatic appeal of 'fireman' or 'chocolate factory owner'.


A bus ride to JFK, the red-eye to Heathrow and then to Symkaria, a cab ride to the Latverian border, and he arrived at the checkpoint. Several vigorous searches of himself and his equipment that absolutely would not make it into print later, he stepped across. A carriage, an honest-to-goodness horse-drawn carriage, was waiting to take him to Doomstadt.

"Uh... hey there. Phil Urich, reporter for the Daily Bugle, out of New York City. Here to interview Regent Vernard."

riiichaaards:

With the creation of the Future Foundation, there could be no doubt that Reed's focus was on moving mankind forward, but there are a few things that bore constant observation to prevent movement in the opposite direction. One of those things was Latveria.

With the recent ascension of Kristoff Vernard to Latveria's throne, the question was not whether or not he could bring greater stability to the tiny nation - but what Doom was up to that would distract him from his Latverian responsibilities.

Fortunately, there was a direct approach to the problem available - go straight to the source. He activates his secure satellite-link transmissions equipment, opening a communications channel to the Latverian Regent himself.

latverianregent:

Kristoff was speaking with one of the palace staff.
"I need a meeting with the aldermen of Doomstadt and each of the Big Ones from the northern hill clans. I also need private letters delivered to Queen Judith in Ruritania and Silver Sablinova in Symkaria. Local administration and those who still vaguely resemble allies should have advance notice of changes. Then we can take on the international community."

"Yes, Young Mast--"
He interrupts her. "Dr. Vernard, please. We should make it easier on the foreigners."