nextgen_media:

New York City was under siege. Not by any super-villains, though that was a common enough sight. Not by subterranean terrors as usually brought up by the Mole Man and not by hordes of Atlantean warriors in fishbowl helmets. Not even by any of the myriad alien races that liked to show up and get the stuffing kicked out of them by Earth's super-heroes.

Technically, these invaders were alien. But not like most others. These were very large, three of them nearly thirty feet tall, the last more than twice that.

"Come on out, accursed Autobots!" the leader, a massive grey robot with a cannon on his arm shouted. "Why do you not defend these humans?"

brit_sorcerer:

The annual tradition of Rate the Babe was usually held at the Avengers mansion, but this year it would be held at Excalibur's headquarters in London. Quinn was more than happy to play host and set up refreshments. There was of course plenty of beer and it was accompanied by pub food.

Quinn was already on his fourth beer when the guys started arriving.

nextgen_holiday:

All Hallow's Eve, or Halloween as it has been come to be called, is a popular holiday with children and adults alike. It is a holiday that had its roots in the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain or Summer's End. Samhain celebrated the end of the "lighter half" of the year and the beginning of the "darker half".

On this evening the barriers between this world and the Otherworld were believed to be thin and the spirits, good and bad, of the dead could pass through. The spirits of the family's ancestors were welcomed in while evil and bad spirits were warded off by the wearing of masks and costumes. The costumes and masks disguised one as a harmful spirit and avoided harm from others.

It was also a harvest celebration and time to take stock of food stores for the winter. Livestock were slaughtered and the meat prepared for storage. It was the final harvest of the year and the crops were then stored for the winter. Celebrations included bonfires and tales of the family's ancestors.

It was a celebration of the dead and of the harvest.

Today we dress up in scary and not so scary costumes and masks and go door to door for candy or attend costume parties. It is a night for revelry, pranks and fun.

aceofhearts:

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and months have gone by since Etoile lost her family. Upon arriving at the Mansion, her life had been altered in many ways. She gained new ground by establishing connections with her fellow team mates. Not only are they friends, they became her second family.

Etoile never gave up on searching for her family. To those who /know/ her, may have thought she forgot about her main purpose. In fact, she never lost sight of it. She spent every awaking moment to locate them. Whenever she wasn't doing a mission, she did recon missions to gather up information.

Each moment she left the comfort of the Mansion, she would come home with some sort of wound.

( Tattered, torn and bruised.... )

wiz_kid:

"Knock, knock."

BOOM!

The mouth of the cave, formerly blocked by several tons of fractured architecture and boulders, is cleared in a flash of debris and noise. Bentley 23 pushes his goggles up and grins, wiping dust from his face. "I've always wanted to say that." He looks over his shoulder to Ben. "Ready to find things forgotten by man and time?"

wiz_kid:

Bypassing the main security (challenging enough to be fun), successful, so now Bentley is at the actual front door, instead of just the front gate. They kept the place classy-looking, he had to admit. Not that Reed hadn't always tried to preserve the historical architecture of the Baxter Building, but it didn't have that old money feel that the Xavier mansion did. Anyway, hopefully hacking, overriding, and just plain mission-impossibling (yes that's a verb) his way past the outer rings of security would give him some credibility.

And he'd totally pay for the landscaping repairs. Honestly, if automated systems couldn't get him in one shot, why waste the ammo or energy on bunches of them?

He knocked at the door.

wiz_kid:

It happens without warning, striking the Baxter Building one floor at a time. A general murmur of static over the building's intercom systems, followed by the opening notes to 'Cocky', by Kid Rock repeating. Enough alarms are going off to draw most of the Foundation to the lobby.

Just as "Guess who's back?" comes over the speakers, the front doors to the lobby burst open.

Bentley 23, wearing a jetpack, a Hawaiian shirt, goggles, and jeans, marches in. A hovering cart full of luggage follows behind him.

"Okay... who missed me?" He grins.

wiz_kid:

There could definitely be worse ways to kill some hours in Toronto. Bentley had gotten in touch with Andrea's boyfriend in preparation for his Nefarious Plans, and small-talk had lead to the mention that he was going to spend a little vacation time in Toronto along the way. That had lead to discussion of Alpha Flight, and her royal cousin-neess.

Bentley drummed his fingers impatiently on the table, sipping his coffee. He'd thought the whole blind date thing would be fun, but the past week of refusing to google his date had been nerve-wracking. It wasn't as if he didn't have the guts to just walk of if it went badly, but come on! She's a princess! One of Namor's daughters! He's a big fan of Namor, what with the imperious entrances, the raw power, and the occasional massive assaults on Manhattan. He was a regular in Bentley's fantasy supervillain leagues. But what was she like? Daddy's Little Hellion? Princessy like her actual title? Teen rebel? He was very curious.

Covering his bases, he'd brought a single flower, and a small box of chocolate. Just something light and charming. Because being an evil genius doesn't mean you can't be a classy bro.

He looked at the clock. Three minutes to go.

wiz_kid:

Bentley Wittman the 23rd had a problem. The pinnacle of his scientific career so far was about to come to fruition, and he had no-one to celebrate with. The whole 'for science!' meme lost some of its luster without witnesses who weren't obligated by contracts to collaborate with you. With that in mind, he checked his schedule, and the time relative to a few thousand miles away, and got into his personal flier.

***

A short time later (shorter than safety guidelines for the machine's specifications would indicate, really), he's hovering outside Valeria Richards' window, tapping on it insistently. If she's not there, he's going to have to raid her lab next, and she always gets so cranky about that.