lytaworthington:

The Dark Rider Lyta Worthington flew over the citadel.

They had tried to defeat them. The Avengers and the X-Men had gone against the Horsemen and the Dark Riders, thinking that could DARE to challenge them and the Lord Apocalypse, and they had failed.

A number of the upstarts had been killed in the battle. Some had escaped, but she and her fellow Riders would hunt them down...and do to them what they did to their teammates. There were some, that they had captured. Those...they would make an example of. The whole world had to know that anyone who dared to oppose the Lord Apocalypse was doomed to fail.

Lyta touched down on the ground. It was a new age under Apocalypse, and she felt honored that he chose her to be a part of it.

goesbothways:

Kelly blinks awake. She can tell something is wrong immediately.

No, its not that she's strapped to a table. That's a little weird, but mostly only because she's pretty sure she didn't bring anyone home. Quite sure, in fact. That, and she usually does the tying, but hey, for the right gun dealer or sniper, she'll switch now and then. Like that CIA chick she had to distract for a weekend. That was a fun assignment.

No, that's not it.

Her guns, she can't feel her guns. Ok, that's a moment of panic, but one she's dealt with. Kind of like the time she's woken up after demolitions assignments gone wrong unable to feel her legs, except more traumatic. Legs grow back. But they've punished her for borderline insubordination towards Nick and others when she mouthed off by taking her guns for a few days. So she could cope, and its a different kind of wrong.

They... they... yeah, that's it. They're not in her brain anymore.

No urge to salute anyone, except maybe with a middle finger. No one she'd feel any need to obey if they told her not to streak Grand Central wearing nothing but two ammo belts and a heavy machinegun. Huh... maybe later.

Ok, so something snapped Weapon X out of her brain. Now to try and figure out where she actually is. She doesn't even bother worrying about the straps and all, just glancing about, smelling the air, and otherwise trying to get some context clues, starting with determining its some kind of medical facility.

Hmm, maybe someone finally donated her body to science fiction? Sure, she's still using it, but its a good cause.

nextgen_media:

"We interrupt this regularly scheduled program to bring you this breaking report. It seems like a giant, what can only be called a citadel, rose from the very ground itself and covered almost the entire area of Central Park just moments ago. The monstrosity seems to be composed completely out of stone and there are no discernible entrances. What appears to be people on flying robotic horses circle the citadel. Who built this and to what end has yet to be discovered."

nextgen_media:

"We interrupt this regularly scheduled program to bring you this breaking report. It seems like a giant, what can only be called a citadel, rose from the very ground itself and covered almost the entire area of Central Park just moments ago. The monstrosity seems to be composed completely out of stone and there are no discernible entrances. What appears to be people on flying robotic horses circle the citadel. Who built this and to what end has yet to be discovered."

sandcastlegod:

In Central Park, the stones are rising.

Antaeus's Great Commission for Lord Apocalypse comes together rapidly, seamlessly. He ignores the exertion as the ground quakes and twists and soars.

Finally, he strains his neck to eye his work, the towering, twisted, cold citadel, which just needs a little help from his fellows, and it seems his face is still capable of a smirk. "Antoni Gaudi would look up from his skull cathedrals and tremble," he mutters.

nextgen_xmen:

Sean had been trying to get in touch with Theresa for a few days now and so far he's had no luck. Worry gripped him. It wasn't like her to be out of touch for so long. He left messages and in the past she would return them within a day. Four days and nothing so far.

It was time to call in some help.

He called Xavier's to see if anyone there had seen her lately or if someone could go to her apartment and check on her.

rogue_star:

Everyone's memories came back to them, once they had a few reminders. Avengers Mansion made a good rallying point. Some were harder to find than others, but Anya managed most of them, the Tallus did the rest once Sarah asked it.

Time to get back to business.

Sarah waits in the main meeting room, letting everyone get assembled before she delivers the bad, bad news.

_tsunami_:

When the Lamb opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, "Come!" I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, "A quart of wheat for a day's wages, and three quarts of barley for a day's wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine!" revelation 6:5-6

It was somehow fitting that her rebirth as a horseman of Lord Apocalypse was on the same day as her first birth into this world. Famine stepped out of the chamber and looked at her new form and smiled. Lord Apocalypse had blessed her with a whole form. Her missing fingers and toes were replaced and her skin was transformed into a pale blue and her hair was dark blue. Appropriate for her, she thought.

She could feel the strength given to her by Lord Apocalypse. She could sense every drop of water in the others in the base. Every drop of water in the air.

A black robotic horse waited for her. It would carry her out into the world and into battle for the glory of Lord Apocalypse.

nextgen_misc:

The media watched the battle from the safety of Ellis Island while on Liberty Island the battle raged on.

dream_catcher:

Everything is still, everything is quiet, aside from the gentle ripple of the water and the crackle of the tiny fires. Lucas sits within a circle drawn into the frozen earth, blessed by the shedding of his own blood as he worked his fingertips bloody doing the carving all by hand, marking the ritual site with his vitality, freely given.
The elements are here in abundance - water from the nearby lake. The frozen ground he sets upon. The tiny fires lit at north, south, east and west marks of the circle.
The Lady Mandarin lies within the circle, stripped of all Earthly things, spread-eagled with her arms pointing northwest and northeast, and her feet pointing southwest and southeast exactly, for she is not right with the world, nor in balance. All of the others have been forbidden to come anywhere near the rite or where they might see it, whether to ogle or whatever other purpose, even her family, though Moira and Danielle have been permitted to stand watch some ways off, just in case. Beyond that, he would have no hostility here - but also no worry, no fear, no darker emotion which might touch the ritual. Those are for the people back in the school.

Anya has been painted in all-natural green dyes here and there, in markings vaguely representative of the Lady Mandarin persona and armor - but other marks as well. Dark marks of a mix of his blood and the stained earth color her eyes, that she might come to see the pure world, each earlobe that she might hear the mother earth and father sky whispering, her lips that she might speak the truth and without poison once more, her throat that the air she breathes might be pure and fill her with the essence of the father, over her heart that it might beat true and strong and pure, over her loins as the gift and curse of the earth mother's fertility where new life enters the world as the mother's greatest gift, over the right hand that it might do good works once more, the left hand that the right shall not be alone, to the sole of her right foot that it might know the mother's touch again and lead along the right path, and the sole of the left foot that it might follow. And a final crimson streak over her brow - when he has fought ten battles, there will be his final battlefield, if he can overcome this terrible dream that long.

Her head is cradled in his lap, both hands resting upon her brow as he goes into meditation, working his way into her troubled dreams, easing himself into the fabric of her mind.

nextgen_media:

A special report breaks in on almost all channels....


"We're here live on Ellis Island as apparently a group of mutant terrorists, known as the Mutant Liberation Front, have kidnapped a number of senators' children and grandchildren and have brought them to Liberty Island. The terrorists are holding the children in the torch of the Statue of Liberty. They have threatened to kill the children unless their demands are met. Sources have it that those demands are the immediate halt to the registration bill that is currently in Congress.

The children were abducted from their beds in the middle of the night by the terrorists and a note was left in their place. It is unclear at this time whether or not the registration bill will be killed. Congress is in session now debating the issue.

The question on everyone's mind is what is being done to save these kids? Where are the so called superheroes? Where are the Avengers? Where are the so called benevolent X-Men who want harmony between mutants and humans and fight for that?"

nextgen_mlf:

They moved quickly and silently, grabbing their intended targets from their beds where they lay sleeping. Virus disabled the security systems while Huntsmen and Hype infiltrated the houses and grabbed the targets.

A note was left in each bed that read:

Kill the registration bill or we kill the kid. You have 24 hours. - MLF

nextgen_misc:

Smoke rose up into the air from various parts of Olympia, the Eternals' city. The once pristine and beautiful city was almost in ruins. The Eternals themselves were lying on the ground in comatose states. Their ancient enemy, the deviants, move about the city destroying as much as they could. They had beaten their hated enemies and were celebrating.

One Eternal fought inside the city, while four had just gathered outside.

tommythetree:


Somewhere remote and out-of-the-way on the grounds for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, there was a dull thunk.

"Ow."

Tom stumbled back, wincing, one hand clamped to his head. This was officially not his day. He tried to focus, but the pain (and the dawning suspicion he'd gone for too long without taking his tablets, accompanied by an unpleasant mental pressure and feeling of fogginess) got in the way. He leaned forward against the tree he'd just headbutted, one hand out to steady himself.

He'd been fighting, that much was clear. The odd, slightly pricklish sense that signalled he'd been using his powers, as well as the fact that he had just nutted a tree, rather distinctly implied that. But he was alone out here, that much was sure, and right now he had absolutely no idea why.

Slightly more importantly, he didn't know where "here" was, either, or where he'd been the last few days. He had vague memories of getting into an argument with Terry- something about his christmas letter- and then blankness.

He glanced around the strangely familiar woodland.

 

"Tom, man," he muttered, one hand drawing his shillelagh from his coat, the other bringing his hip flask to his lips, "you've really gone and done it this time..."

brit_sorcerer:

The first thing that registered in Quinn's mind was that he was falling. The second was that the ground was coming up REALLY fast. Third was that it was going to be very painful. He tried slowing his descent, but there hadn't been that much air space left. He hit the ground with a loud thud and a groan.

By the Vishanti that hurt.

Moving was not an option at the moment. His whole body hurt. He was going to stay there on the nice comfy grass. Yup, nice comfy grass. Nice and soft and cool. The air was nice and warm and the sun was bright.

He did raise his head and look around a bit. Where was he? He saw a very large mansion and could smell the salt in the air. He had to be near an ocean, but which one? More importantly how did he get here?

And why the hell was he naked?

rogue_star:

With the members of KISS given the power of rock, and Dr. Doom defeated, the Exiles begin to fade from the world...

Sarah wakes up with a splitting headache. She knows she's sore all over, but can't quite place why. There's a few faint memories of faces, but she can't put a name to any of them. Last thing she remembers was kissing Anya. She has a sense that was a while ago, but everything in between just isn't coming to her.
She's wearing a strange bracelet, but it doesn't seem to do anything - no clues to where she came here from, and no obvious way to remove it. The shield and hammer are in her hands, so at least that's good, though a sign she may have been fighting. That would explain the soreness.

Its daylight out, causing her to blink a couple times against the day as she wakes up more. Open countryside, nothing that will immediately tell her where she's at. Not up for flying quite yet, she starts with trying to stand up.

ng_purifiers:

The Reverend's voice was choked with genuine emotion as he spoke. It was a rare opportunity, an invitation to speak at a political rally hosted by Senator Sloane regarding the registration issue being brought before Congress. He had a massive, cheering crowd, composed not only of his church's own faithful, but a much wider audience, including a national one through the host of television cameras.

"My friends, I cannot tell you how honored I am to be here today. I understand there are questions about my position at a political event, hosted by the kind Senator Sloane and such generous donors as Ms. Maggie Donovan." He paused for more applause and cheers. "But I'm not here today as a religious figure. I'm not here on behalf of a movement... I'm here today as a grieving father and husband. I'm here as a concerned human being. For those of you out there who do not know me... my name is Philip Butler. And when I come before an audience who doesn't know me, with protestors and the rest, what everyone always wonders is why I hate mutants. And the answer is that I don't. I love all my brothers and sisters under God. When I was a younger man, I belonged to the mutant rights league. I marched for mutant rights in Dallas. I spoke on behalf of freedom and fairness. But there is a deeper concern. After those days, I lost my family - my wife of twenty-three years was killed by terrorists calling themselves the Mutant Liberation Front. My eldest son, a decorated veteran of overseas campaigns was killed defending Magneto at trial! And then my two little girls..." he holds up a photo, which the cameras zoom in on, "Were killed when they couldn't run fast enough, casualties caught in a crossfire between the so-called X-Men and Magneto's Acolyte movement in the pre-Genosha days. Even the mutants who call themselves heroes can't guarantee our safety. They still fight like vigilantes, and innocents still get caught in the crossfire. If they really wanted to help, let them sign with law enforcement, let them join the national guard! Let them serve like my son did before his tragic and senseless death."

"I am not asking for some new Holocaust. I don't want to see anyone suffering or dying. But these people possess dangerous abilities, and they need our help! And we need to know we're safe from the crossfire of whatever secret mutant wars are raging on all around us.  For the mutants out there, I'm not asking you to go to prison for being born... but if you're going to use these powers, especially in a way that puts lives at risk, you have to understand - you /are/ part of the problem, whether you want to be or not. Hiding breeds suspicion and fear. The only way to come together is cooperation. Beginning with registering in the same way anyone who wishes to own a gun should register that weapon. This is not some shadowy government agency trying to bring you in. This is a father who has had to attend the funerals of all three of his children, two of whom never had a chance to grow up at all, a family man, a devout man, and a scared man... please, give us a chance to defend ourselves, to know who our friends are and who our enemies are. Registration does not have to be some great evil. But it is the first step, a necessary first step, to reconciliation."

"When far worse programs were proposed, when hatred was at its height, I stepped forward to do what my conscience demanded, and stepped forward for the fair treatment of mutants in Dallas. Now I'm asking you to do the right thing, and support registration, so that maybe other husbands won't have only a picture of their wife to remember them by. Other proud fathers of soldiers won't see their children cut down by strange powers while trying to protect a rightful trial of a terrorist. And other fathers won't have nothing but a few pictures and kidnergarten projects to remember two beautiful little girls by"

"For everyone else - the time is coming for a vote in Congress. Call your congressman and demand they support registration when it comes. It is the right thing to do, for all of us."

ng_weaponx:

Ezra Kane had been pleased with the results from the first field test. The slight malfunction hadn’t cost them a team member, even if it was Tessa, and except for that little glitch things went well. The mutants in the machine were doing well and his team was able to access their powers and use them efficiently. Things were going according to plan.

Now it was time to move on to the next part. The two mutants in the machine had been most helpful in testing the machine, but it was time to retrieve better specimens for the machine. He wanted to have his team at their best. Their natural powers and powers of other powerful mutants would make them very formidable, almost unstoppable.

“Begin the next step,” he told his team through the comms.

ng_weaponx:

Ezra Kane had been most pleased with the tech provided by Senator Sloane. So far the results were encouraging, but he needed his team to do a real field test. He knew the perfect test to do with the two mutants that Crosshairs and Bloodlust had brought in.

He looked at Phobia and Crosshairs. "You know what to do. Get in, take a look around, get any information you can and then get out. Spectre will be waiting for you call for extraction."

dream_catcher:

The Marauders are gone. At least for now. They still haven't determined what that was all about, and right now, Lucas doesn't care. He's been hard at work ever since the attack, despite his own psychological scars, healing who he can. When the medical labs, Hank McCoy, and the other healer assured him they had things under control, he went to talk to Scott, and got permission to do the hardest task yet.
He sighs, setting down the pencil and reviewing the letter.

ng_marauders:

Penny stepped out of the cab and didn't look back to see if Winterkill and Breakneck were getting out. They would follow, of that she had no doubt. They had a mission to do. Penny smiled. They'd have fun doing it too.

Penny smiled more as she practically bounced up to the gate. Makeup covered the bruise she had because of that bastard breaking her nose. Anger bubbled up, but she pushed it back. She couldn't afford to let real emotions get the best of her. She had to play a part right now.

Smiling into the security camera, Penny pressed the buzzer.

burnwithlight:

((Warning: This is going to get messy and unpleasant. Some aspects may be triggery.))

They were on the roof this afternoon, just talking and relaxing a little after getting some more work done. It was too cold, sure, but the decor was lovely and the view was great.

Considering their early trouble, Giovanna had taken to keeping her knife in the inside pocket of her coat when they went outside anywhere that wouldn't have metal detectors. She knew she'd most likely just use her powers in another emergency, but a little paranoia never hurt anyone.

"The weather's improving. Perhaps it'll even be tolerable eventually," she told Andrew with a smile.

nextgen_adult:

Margaret Donovan Stark sipped her glass of wine as she listened to the man, Senator Sloane, sitting across from her. “I trust the package was delivered and everything is in order?” she asked when she had enough of him babbling on.

“Yes it did. It arrived all intact and we had it set up in no time. You should come and see it. We’re just in….”

“I don’t want to know,” Maggie said. “Plausible deniability and all of that.”

Sloane nodded. “I understand. We do have two subjects ready for the field tests, but we will soon be acquiring more.”
Margaret nodded. “Please keep me informed how the tests go.”

Sloane smiled. “Of course. I understand wanting to see the fruits of….”

Margaret held up a hand to stop him. “It was the company not me.” She didn’t want her name associated with the project. The company being associated was fine. If information about the project ever got out, she could always say it had been developed before she took over Stark Inc. The blame and the fallout would be placed on her predecessor, not her.

Sloane smiled. “I understand.”

“Do you have reliable people running this project of yours?”

“Of course,” he assured her. “I have complete faith in the director. He’s most efficient and productive.” Despite a small setback, Ezra Kane has been a competent project director. Sloane hoped he continued to be so.

Margaret finished off the last of her glass of wine. “Good. It can be so hard to find reliable people.” Not to mention hard to get rid of others. She had been trying to get rid of Potts since day one and had been unsuccessful so far. The board loved the woman and would not let Margaret make a move against her. Maggie suspected the woman was leaking company information to Tony, which would come as no surprise. Loyalty such as Potts had for Maggie’s brother was hard to come by and buy.

“Thank you for lunch, Senator. I must get back. I have a company to run.”

“Maggie, it was my pleasure as always,” he said as he stood up.

“As mine,” Maggie said as she stood up. She shook Sloane’s hand. “Until next time.”

“Of course,” he said and watched her leave. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Start the field test.”

nextgen_media:

“We interrupt this regularly scheduled program to bring you breaking news from Times Square. An apparent bank robbery gone wrong has resulted in the deaths of at least eleven people at the 1515 Broadway branch of Bank of America. Witnesses report that a masked man entered the bank and held the patrons at gunpoint. The details of what happened next aren’t clear, but it appears the robbery was stopped when a mutant teenage boy lost control of his powers and killed everyone in the bank. The boy fled the scene and remains at large. If you see this boy please contact your local authorities immediately and do not approach him. He is considered extremely dangerous. “

“As you can see behind me, crews are still cleaning up the site and authorities have the area cordoned off and are prohibiting anyone from approaching the bank. Traffic is at a crawl through Times Square and police are suggesting that commuters seek alternate routes.”

“Anti-mutant demonstrators and pro-mutant demonstrators are already on the scene. Police are trying to keep the demonstrations peaceful, but tension is running high.”

nextgen_misc:

Jack Anderson was one of the many teens living on the streets of New York. Like many he had run away from a small town somewhere else in the United States and had made his way to New York in search of making it big on Broadway. Like those others, things didn't work out the way he planned them and he found himself living on the streets.

He was on his way to another audition when the blow came from behind. He didn't see the man that attacked him and he was unconscious as they tossed him in the back of a van. Dr. Zola was waiting.

Around New York the same had been done to a few other teens.