ya_assemble. Recent Entries

Time was strange at the North Pole.

As best Sandy could tell, it was somewhere around two or three in the morning, but she had found that it was often dark outside right in the middle of the day. It probably had something to do with the angle of the Earth, or maybe it was magic. Either way the clock on her communicator told her that it was in fact 2:25 A.M local time.

She had woken up in a cold sweat with her heart racing. A strangled cry muffled on instinct. The sweat beaded on her stone skin and she was curious about how long she'd had her powers turned on.

Chest rising and falling, she willed herself to relax and stared hard at the ceiling of her room. Lines of black had been traced and painted over in patterns like candy and castles. A space ship flying over a moon and a fox with an eye patch riding on a ship right behind it. Sandy had spent a good few hours working on that mural and it was supposed to help calm her down. Tonight it didn't seem to be helping.

Rising to her feet she tugged on a blue and fluffy fleece robe over green PJs with peppermint candies on it. Sometimes after her nightmares she could go back to sleep but not tonight it seemed.

Padding out of the room in her slippers she set off for the shared kitchen, moving quietly as to not disturb anyone who was still asleep. Elves and Yeti seemed to work all through the night in the main workshop area so the noise and activity at there hadn't slowed down.

Still looking pale, peaked and unsettled she was clearly not awake by choice if any other night owls were still up and about tonight.

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daddyphantom

This was strange. Admittedly, strange and Danny had long been acquainted, but even for him it wasn't common to be at home and then suddenly pulled to a icy wasteland. If he hadn't known any better he'dve said he was in the Far Frozen, but there was a certain feel to the Ghost Zone that this place lacked. It reminded him more of his brief but disturbing experience with Panem from just over 15 years ago. True, he'd woken up there rather than having suddenly appeared, but the feeling of being whisked away to an unfamiliar place both against one's will and without any warning was definitely familiar.

Looking around, he thought he spotted some signs of civilization off in the distance. Deciding to check it out, he transformed and flew towards it.

What he found was a massive wood and stone building set into the ice. Part of him, as he hovered invisibly around it, almost automatically associated it with Santa's workshop, but shook off that knee-jerk reaction. Up until he got a good look in one of the windows.

Toys. And elves. And yeti, apparently. What. The. Hell. Apparently Dad had actually been right.

He looked for an entrance (No reason to be rude by just walking through a wall) and, not immediately seeing anyone, called out.

"Hey! Anybody home?"

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googledox

[Everyone has been given comm devices. They look almost like handheld video game systems with a few odd quirks attached, like steampunk-esque whirring gold components that look like they're magical in nature. (They are.)]

Commencing first test of the communications system.

The communication devices you've all been handed are meant to serve our ongoing communications needs. They combine the functionality of the enchanted radios Nico Minoru and Bunnymund created with a text-based bulletin system. They were extremely difficult to make and required the cooperation of most of the engineers and mystics present so please make an effort to not lose or break them. It's only natural that we may have equipment lost or damaged on missions but if we find out that your comm was broken because you left it somewhere around the Pole and the elves used it as a chew toy, we will combine our magical and scientific efforts to experiment on the most efficient way to turn you into a toad.

Technology can be scrambled with magic which meant we had to create the devices with safeguards against both magical and technological interference. Due to the difficulty of combining practical technology with magic, we've yet to manage incorporating a video messaging function but audio and text-based communication should serve our communication needs for now. The distance the comms will work will be severely dependent on any magical interference but at peak operating levels and signal strength, we should be able to communicate with one another from any point on the globe.

Those of you that lack the required digits to type or have forms of environmental navigation that don't rely on vision can use the text-to-voice and voice-to-text functions. If you need any further personalization come to the lab and let us know. For those of you seeking comfortable ways of carrying these devices on your person, let the yetis know and they'll fashion holsters or lanyards that suit your respective physiologies.

The design of the devices isn't exactly the most visually appealing but we've had to make use of what materials we have on hand and unfortunately the casings of handheld gaming systems seemed the only viable option, given their durability. So yes, we are using toys to fight a war to preserve reality. One only hopes we won't be reduced to tossing very large rocks at the enemy under these conditions.

Please respond so we can test the functionality of the comment system.

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juniordreddy

This was a nightmare. Except it wasn't a nightmare. Tino had pinched himself no less than eight times and still hadn't woken up. Eight times!

The last thing he remembered, he was hanging out with his friends, sitting on the small wall at the beach. Then he'd lost consciousness and woken up in a strange, dark scary warehouse. One that seemed to be full of carnival equipment. Here and there an ominous sight peeped out from the shadows, illuminated by beams of light through the holes in the warehouse roof. A carousel horse with faded paint here, a rusted sign with a teddy bear face on it there.

"Okay, I'm ready to wake up now!" he called out. "Totally ready to wake up. Ready to commit to that waking up thing like a champ and give it one hundred and ten percent."

He wasn't waking up.

"Waking up in three, two, one...go!" Nope. "Annnd...go!"

That wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?!

Tino turned around to find a clown statue staring at him and let out a high-pitched screech of terror and ran away from it, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did it, until he was a good distance away.

"Where's the way out? Come on come on come on..."

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noboothneeded

Up above the rooftops of Metropolis, a portal opened and unceremoniously spit out a teen in a Superman costume, before shutting again. Clark tumbled in the air a bit before righting himself. He wasn't certain what was going on. The last thing he'd remembered, aside from a blurry mess, was that he'd been somewhere above Los Angeles, rescuing a plane. He turned around, trying to get his bearings, and suddenly stopped.

He might not enjoy the Superman comics, but years of having them foisted upon him meant he could recognize many things in them by sight alone. The famous globe of the Daily Planet was one of them.

"What." Clark said flatly. He looked around, some more, enhanced vision picking out the Lexcorp Towers and Centennial Park.

"This can't be happening. I can't be in Metropolis. How am I in Metropolis?"

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iamresponding

Step number one of taking over leadership from Bunny was getting as informed as possible. That was why Rich had commandeered a room to essentially use as an office. It was now packed with books and scrolls to study to get a handle on the lore, magical mechanics, and history of this world.

He'd also managed to get his hands on a tablet to use as a datapad. One lucky thing about the technology he'd used during the war was that he was already used to typing one-handed, due to the datapads they'd used during the war being pretty small. And he was left-handed so he still had his dominant hand.

Still, what he wouldn't give for the medicos he had during the war. He'd lost a leg once, during the bombardment on Daedalus 5, and they'd grown him a new one in the space of a few days. Sadly, they didn't have the technological resources here for organ cloning, even if they possibly had people with the right expertise to do it. They probably had the resources to make him a decent prosthetic to use outside of battle, though, and that was something he planned on requesting.

Something else he needed besides all the lore and info on the enemy was data on all the people here. Skill sets, powers, fighting experience and so on.

So, for the ones Bunny wasn't able to give him info on, Rich was calling them in for a little interview. Each time, he introduced himself (to the ones he hadn't already met, at least) and explained the situation.

"I called you in here because Bunny's going to be relinquishing leadership of our little band of misfits to me as soon as I'm caught up on everything, so one thing I need to do is find out what everyone can do. I just have a few questions to ask you. This is also an opportunity for you to ask any questions of me."

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shiftingurbulls

Ellis was sure he wasn't drunk when he stumbled around the town he didn't recognize. But what was sure, was the fact that he wasn't supposed to be alone. He was in the frozen, frozen wasteland...a lost soul trapped in a cave as he bled out thanks to another-Wait, this wasn't Panem either. This was more like his home world and for a moment, Ellis braced for the incoming howls and roars of the Tanks and the Chargers. Shit out of luck and no weapons to speak of, not even that pocket knife!

After a few minutes of silence, the mechanic peeked from under his arms. "Tha's strange...why is this place all silent?" In other words: where were the Infected Hordes? "Where is everything?"

This place had not seen the ravages of the Green Flu, but that couldn't be it! The maps covered in big red x's, every major city was hit! Hell, even Mexico threatened to close the border, airlines were grounded, all to keep the virus contained. But this place was idyllic, quiet, and for the young man, impossible.

All the while Ellis tries thinking out loud, he doesn't realize just how much danger he's in as the shadows become ominous. "Huh?"

[[ooc: hope this is right!]]

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!longest night

the_civilian

[Takes place immediately after this.]

Tadashi caught himself on the frame of an open door and let his momentum carry him through it. The last thing he needed, really, the last thing this day needed was for him to get lost in the giant winter lodge-slash-workshop and need someone to come find him. And if he'd kept running, he would have absolutely gotten lost. He almost wasn't sure how he'd gotten here; like his quick dash to get some space to think had completely wiped his brain of everything but the urge to keep running until everything made sense again.

But things weren't going to make sense unless he stopped and let himself take it all in. Mindless panic didn't help anyone, least of all him.

So. He was in another reality where magic existed and so did people like Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and Jack Frost. He was here because someone -- a kid -- knew something about his life and something about him made that kid feel safe. And he had super powers. He could actually heal people by touching them, and he could see their injuries the way he'd programmed Baymax to. That was...that was good. He'd built Baymax to help people, and while he might only be one guy as opposed to any number of versions of Baymax he could produce, he could still help people in this fight against.

Against a thing that wanted to destroy all of reality. And had already thinned the walls of reality so badly that he'd gotten pulled through.

And Hiro and Aunt Cass had no idea what had happened to him after he'd run into the burning Expo hall.

Tadashi took a deep breath and let it out, then looked around the room where he'd ended up and had to crack a smile. He wasn't sure if it was coincidence, instinct, or his new magical powers, but finding the kitchen area was probably a good start.

This situation might look better from the other side of a bear claw the half the size of his head.

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matchmadeinhell

The thing with superspeed and cooking was that it was great for food prep but it still took just as long for things to cook as they always did. Kon had tried heatvision in the past, to speed things along, but that'd always had disastrous results. Using it to warm food, though, that worked and that was how he reheated the first batch of fried chicken he'd made after he finished the last batch. He also used it to reheat the gravy.

It was a proper gravy, a creamy sawmill gravy. He was crazy proud of his gravy. He'd never been able to replicate Ma's cooking 100% but he sure came close with the gravy.

The lounge area had lots of comfy chairs and was an ideal place for people to relax and hang out while eating fried chicken so he set up shop near all the comfy couches, putting down plate after plate of fried chicken and biscuits. The biscuits had been made in a massive batch and had been left warming in the oven so they nice and warm and flaky.

He danced around as he finished cooking his massive chicken dinner to one of those ipod stereos. He had an ipod full of girly pop that he'd nicked from the lab. At first he thought it was maybe Honey Lemon's but when he saw that the playlist names had somehow been programmed in Interlac, he figured out it was Lyle or Brainy's. In the past, their inclination towards girly pop music was something he might have ribbed them over but now? Now he danced around and sang to Katy Perry's "Roar" like nobody's business.

Between the music and the smell of delicious fried chicken and biscuits, most of the myths at the Pole would come see what the fuss was about but in case some of them didn't, Kon had made a whole tray of biscuits as a treat for the elves and he used them as a preemptive reward for getting the others.

"Go, my minions!" he cried out, tossing biscuits to them. "Go and get the others so they may feast!"

Out of gratitude for the delicious biscuits, they saluted him and spread out to bring everyone's attention to the glorious spread. Anyone that came to see what the fuss was about would be treated to an early dinner of delicious fried chicken, biscuits and gravy, and for the vegetarians among them (like Lyle and Brainy), grits, collard greens, black-eyed peas, and mashed potatoes.

Yes, he'd gone all out. It was almost Easter and that meant a few people would be having an Easter here instead of with their families, right? So it'd be a good one. He also figured doing it before Easter was a good idea in case Bunny needed their help or something on actual Easter Day.

When people started showing up, they were treated to the sight of a rather spectacular feast and the sight of Kon dancing around between the lounge and the kitchen as he finished making one last boatload of gravy and cleaned up. He was wearing an apron that said 'Kiss my grits!'

"Go ahead and tuck in," he said to people as they started showing up. "It's Before-Easter Dinner! And while I can't claim I'm as good a cook as the lady I learned to cook from, who I learned to cook from is a genuine Kansas farmer so it's still finger-lickin' good."

[ooc: Mingle thread! Pop music! People! Chicken! This is a nice little post for all the characters to mingle. Start up a little subthread for your characters and then tag around to other people's! It's set after all the recent intros so all the newer characters can participate and meet everyone.]

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intherealway

Nothing made sense.

Nothing made any sense at all.

Why was Pearl here and not home in Beach City where she was just a moment ago? What city is this? How far is she from the coast? How did she even get here? Pearl only deals well with one problem at a time, and maybe she could deal with the location change if she knew where she was now or if she knew why or how or or or...

There were people all around her and not a single one of them seemed to be paying attention to her slowly building breakdown. Was that fine? Did she need the help? She needed something, that much was clear.

She bounded in front of a reasonably respectable looking human in two strides, the uneven pavement starting to hurt her feet and she idly wondered why don't humans maintain things after they build them?

“Excuse me, sir,” she said as she kept pace with him, “My name is Pearl, and I am a Crystal Gem. I'm trying to determine exactly what fluctuation in the universe has left me here -I'm fairly sure I'm at least a few miles from home- so if you could please-”

He walked right through her, as though she was an apparition.

"...tell me why I've become incorporeal?!"

And that is why Pearl is currently pacing in circles in the middle of the sidewalk, head in hands, unable to decide which problem can be reasonably dealt with first, and getting down to some serious freaking out.

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revvinguptheharley

Brooklyn New York.

Not a particularly silly place, nor a place known for love running rampant but to the locals it would seem particularly strange today in both respects.

It started with a car accident. Two people both claiming that the light had been green in their favor. They started out shouting looking ready to rip each other apart...then they were passionately making out on top of the wreckage of their cars.

Things got more interesting as people seemed to be spontaneously hooking up all over the city causing a complete slow down as business ground to a stop, traffic, even schools were shut down as no one could convince the teachers to stop making out in the broom closets and bathrooms.

It became pure chaos however as Coney Island began to tear itself apart much to the enchantment of it's onlookers. The famous Farris Wheel that had long been a piece of the skyline was overworked from how many couples were using it and it broke from it's supports rolling along the boardwalk and into the city streets.

This was no series of random happenstance. No this was the work of a mischievous spirit. One who was currently lurking behind a couple unseen as she made kissy faces behind them.

"Go on do it! Kiss! Kiss! You know you wanna!"

Harleen Quinzel had been a spirit before, and had harnessed her abilities as a spirit to do the same thing back in her own world. Finding herself apparently a ghost once more she decided to forgo an existential crisis and cause a little chaos. It had been far too long and frankly these poor saps were just the victims of what was almost two years of pent up madness.

Harley had been to other worlds, she had seen people she loved and cared about die horribly until she too had died horribly and pointlessly in a war that nobody really wanted.

She had lived other lives hadn't she? There were memories that drifted fleetingly in and out of her mind but at the moment what was strongest were feelings of regret and loss. Feelings that she was burying under shameless shipping.

"That's it! Almost there! Kiss the girl! Like the crab said go on and kiss the girl!"

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holyscoopbatman

The Defenders: A "Just-Us" Society?
by Sally Floyd

Every week brings new challenges to the Post-Cataclysm world we live in but the recent actions of the Defenders have left the public wondering if the team is up for the challenge - and if they think they're above the law. A solid week of questionable actions started with a tantrum by the younger Blue Beetle, usually polite and soft-spoken in his appearances, caught on youtube yelling at a freelance journalist and breaking his camera.

( Read more... )

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pavlovs_daughter

The last thing Pacifica remembered was that the gravity in Gravity Falls going all... weird. She had lifted free of her bed where she'd been trying to sulk away the fearsome grounding that her parents had dumped on her after she'd decided that breaking the familial curse was way, way more important than preserving the stupid family name and keeping out the riff-raff. Plus, you know... Dipper had kind of been in danger because her.

She'd come crashing back to earth as gravity righted itself, head spinning from the drop--and then she'd woken up in a bed that... was uncomfortably foreign. She sat bolt upright, rubbing at her eyes as she stared into the darkness around her. It was oppressive, like some thick, old cloak that reeked of mothballs. Except it smelled faintly of mildew instead. She was in some weird, creaky old cabin, the kind you might see in some movie about kids at a summer camp, a row of bunk beds along both walls. Shoving the itchy woolen blanket off herself, she let her bare feet drop to the cold wooden floor and padded towards the window, arms crossed tightly against herself. This was stupid. This was really stupid and weird and if she had to bet money she'd say that the Pines were involved somehow. They were always involved in weird stuff like this.

Outside the window, other cabins sat sprinkled along worn pathways amongst tall pine trees. She could see moonlight glinting off a lake at the very end of the path, peeking between the trees. Okay. She was at a summer camp... But it didn't look like anything in Gravity Falls. She took a moment scramble around at the foot of the bed, muttering about her lack of flashlight as she tried to come up with a pair of shoes. Nothing. Great. She moved to the doorway and tugged the door open, wincing at the loud, ominous creak of its hinges. First things first. Find a phone, get some shoes, and hopefully get out of her pajamas...

Her first barefoot steps outside were ginger and cautious, the girl wincing at the feel of pebbles, twigs, and dirt against her bare feet.

"Worst. Ever." She took a few more steps. Paused to listen. Was somone... following her? She whirled around, staring into the darkness that had swallowed the cabin.

"I can hear you! This isn't funny!" She shivered. What if...what if her parents had sent her here? She'd never disobeyed them this badly before. What if they'd just abandoned her? The new thought sent a pang of panic into her gut and she turned, shuffling hurriedly down the path, imagining that she could hear breathing behind her as she headed for the largest building. There had to be a phone there, right?

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timeslipping

It wasn't supposed to happen again.

Rina had been glad when she'd regained her powers, a good while after being at the epicenter of the power-nullifying bomb of the Dire-wraiths. It had happened not long after the Stamford explosion and after such a horrible thing had happened to her old friends, she'd hoped that having her powers back meant she'd be able to help avert that kind of catastrophe in the future.

Especially since she'd found that, after her powers had finally come back, they worked differently. Some of her visions were preventable. Sometimes the people dying in them could be saved in time, because now, instead of seeing the catastrophe itself, most of them them showed the lead up to something horrible happening rather than the event itself.

Maybe if her powers had come back earlier she would've been able to see a vision of the lead up to the Stamford catastrophe. Then those innocent people wouldn't have been killed by Nitro. Namorita and Night Thrasher and Microbe wouldn't have died.

And Robbie...

She remembered what he looked like on the news, shot on his way to testify at Congress, head shaved, already battered and beaten down with a dead eyed gaze even before the gun fired off. Robbie had always been so light-hearted and cheerful and happy so to see him like that had broken her heart.

Her powers had kicked on right after that, almost like some sort of cosmic insult. Then again maybe it was the action of seeing all that horror that had triggered their return. She'd heard the story about Night Thrasher tossing Rich off a building to reawaken his powers. Maybe just the sight of something she wished with all her heart she could have prevented was what brought them back in the first place.

( Read more... )

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unorthodox_greek

Far too many heroes remain missing. Far too many friends, colleagues, siblings ripped away to abandon their return to sheer, capricious fortune. Search efforts were undertaken, though the circumstances of the universe-shattering events remained unclear. How could those who returned do any less?

The scientists had concocted many theories. Sensors, probes, mathematics - a dizzying array of ephemera that meant nothing to a warrior born. Several months ago, however, someone finally gave Hercules something he could understand - a door. A portal, more precisely, to one of those realms between realms that still existed, and to which some of his colleagues may have returned. He had volunteered instantly to explore this realm for any sign of other heroes of the two worlds, to bring them home. He had set forth from the secure 'Exploration Laboratory' of the Baxter Building, alone.

Today, as regularly scheduled, the gateway flickers back to life to permit the return of the mighty explorer it had sent forth - and he is no longer alone.

The power surges as the gateway emits two entangled figures - the son of Zeus, and an immense, translucent white bulk, covered in grasping tendrils and enormous red eyes. They burst from the portal with sufficient momentum to impact the far wall, the tentacled creature burbling in an utterly alien language all the while.

Hercules recovers his footing, pushing back against the wall with one foot - using the other to pin one of the creature's manifold limbs, as his hands seek to constrain several others.

"Aye, so you've said. How was I to know it was your wife and not your daughter? I think you will be forced to agree there's a certain resemblance!"

The response seems to anger the creature further, limbs twitching and lashing at Hercules's flesh as it burbles more rapidly.

"Then perhaps you might pay more attention to the both of them, so this sort of thing might not happen again!"

Slowly, but surely, Hercules begins to move - his feet digging into the durable metallic floor, sliding the enormous creature inexorably back towards the portal.

[ooc: Hi, folks! Feel free to jump on in here if you have a character who might be at the Baxter Building and feels like helping Herc get the jealous jellyfish back through the gateway, and/or chat afterwards.]

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morescaredofyou

Peter was pretty sure he must be going to hell for this. Or at least some kind of nasty purgatory. Because not only was he stealing, he was stealing from Santa Clause.

And it wasn't even the first time he'd done it.

But he couldn't just sit around, doing nothing. Especially after he'd been introduced to that Jaime kid, and found that suddenly his spider-reflexes were back and he wasn't about to trip over his own feet every five seconds. (And it turns out that the whole 'power from belief' thing was true. Who knew?) And the only way to actually get out there and try to make a difference was, at least as far as Peter knew, those snow gloves.

So, he stole them. Every day. So that he could put on his Spider-man suit and be completely invisible and intangible to everyone. Okay, so not exactly the greatest plan in the world. But he was trying to make it work.

Which was why he was now trying to stop muggers through the incredibly ingenious plan of...tossing random crap on the ground for him to trip them over. Hey, he had to work with what he had.

“Special delivery for you!” he declared, as he plonked a brick right into the mugger’s path. Unable to see Spider-man, the mugger’s foot caught on it and he went tumbling, face-first into the sidewalk. Peter crouched down next to him.

“I know, I know, I should have found a banana instead! Can’t go wrong with the classic.” The mugger made no response other than groaning, but then, he couldn’t hear Spider-man anyway. Not that this stopped Peter from talking. “Next time I’ll pack a bunch, just for you! Or not you, because you’ll be in jail.”

[ooc: You don’t need to jump in only at the end here - if you’d rather start when Peter’s stealing snow globes, that works too. This is also happening over time in various cities around the world]

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iamresponding

Something had hurt him. He wasn't sure what. He had been doing something. Something something. Getting something for someone. Home. Getting something for home?

He remember crumpled flowers in a puddle in an alley. Broken brick. A fight. He'd staggered around and fought. A suffocating feeling over his face. Energy pouring out. Molten brick, burning the flowers, vaporizing the puddle. He'd gotten free but the world had shattered into a million confusing crystalline shards. So many voices, perspectives, alien images and words in his head.

Crumpled flowers. They were important. They'd belonged to someone. After that, the voices told him to hide. They were broken like him, all of them.

SYSTEM FAILURE +++ ERROR ERROR +++ WORLDMIND GESTALT DATA CORRUPTED +++ REBOOTING...REBOOT FAILED.

REBOOTING...REBOOT FAILED.

REBOOTING...REBOOT FAILED.

REBOOTING...REBOOT FAILED.

They tried so many times to fix themselves to fix him but something was wrong. So the voices told him to hide, to survive. It was still looking for him, trying to take him. The star.

"Star tryin' t'take me," the man said to the older woman doling out soup at the soup kitchen. "Told me to hide. Voices tol' me to hide. Starfish, bad starfish."

He trusted the old woman. For some reason. Something about her face. White hair, reminded him of someone. Another older woman. Flowers.

"I lost the flowers, ma, I'm sorry," he said to her. "But the star - the star got me. Now the voices're saying to hide. Voices."

"Oh, you poor dear," said the woman. "Why don't you sit over there, young man? I'm going to get someone to help you, okay? We have someone on staff here, they're going to talk to you to get you some help."

"Help," he echoed back, taking the bowl of soup gratefully, going over to sit where the woman had pointed him. "Help. Help me."

Someone could help him. Faces. Floating spheres and pink light. Fire. Winged feet. Black and red. Faces. There were people that could help him, good people, but he didn't know how to call them. Couldn't remember their names.

"Help me," he said into his bowl of soup. "Wish you were here, Pete. Always know what to do when things are broken."

They were stuck like this. Surviving. Him and the voices. They didn't know what to do, how to get help. All of them were too confused, too addled, splitting and blending.

REBOOTING...REBOOT FAILED.

REBOOTING...REBOOT FAILED.

"Restart. Need to restart," he said, in between spoonfuls of soup. "How? How do I...? No button. Can't use a button. How? Why can't you tell me? Brother. Brother could. Where's my brother?"

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gonebyebye

None of this made any sense. True, as a Ghostbuster, Ray was used to things not making a lot of sense, they always did when the paranormal got involved, but this took the cake. One moment he was at the firehouse, getting equipped for another day on the job, the next he was in the middle of what looked like Chicago. Not only that, but people were passing through him like he wasn't even there.

Ray didn't feel dead. Of course, he didn't really know what feeling dead was like. Still, he wasn't obeying any normal rule of being a ghost. He was, again, in Chicago, rather than in the place he'd last been in or a place he had attachment to. He could pass through people, but not walls. He certainly couldn't hover or fly. Ray supposed he could chalk some of the issues up to being an extremely weak ghost, but the PKE readings he'd taken of himself were way too high for that to be the case.

So, after adjusting the PKE meter to ignore the wavelength he was putting out, he set off to track down the source of the phenomena. After many blocks, carrying the proton pack was starting to tire him out, which was another mark against him being a ghost. He rested against a streetlight, breathing a little heavily.

"This would be SO much easier if I had the Ectomobile." He reflected, and, as if it had just been waiting for him to call, the vehicle in question faded into existence in the parking space beside him.

"Today," Ray said, voice tinged slightly with awe, "Just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

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morethanmyth

( Plots )

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!longest night

morethanmyth

They thought it was relatively safe. The twins were being sent out with a group of people that were essentially adults. Even Raph was an older teen and probably more experienced at fighting than all of them put together. The fearling they were looking for wasn't even that powerful, if the mini-fairies were to be believed. It was a construct, several fearlings reconfigured into something new, but not that powerful.

It needed to be hunted down and destroyed but it was something that Mabel alone could've handled. Between the five of them, they made short work of it and it looked to be a nice little on-the-job lesson for the twins, where they got to fight while under the protection and guidance of the others.

The problem was the fear. Fear was always the problem. That fear was just a coincidence but as coincidences sometimes went, it was a dangerous coincidence.

Not far from where they'd destroyed the fearling, there was a little girl who had played one of her older sister's video games and it had frightened her. As she went to bed that night with the fear clutching at her heart, the only thought that helped her fight the fear was the thought of two of her favorite cartoon characters - ones that fought scary things like ghosts all the time - fighting the scary ghosts in the game.

She knew they were the kind of twins that could beat the ghosts. That was the thought she fell asleep to, a thought that gained power in that twilight between waking and sleeping.

Where they were in the woods, that thought - and that fear - temporarily took on a life of its own, reshaping reality and assigning them all roles in the story it was trying to mold. A sudden mist swept through the dark woods and every myth in the group found themselves powerless. They still had their gear and their skill and wit but their myth powers were gone.

Even worse than that, as the mist obscured them from each other and they suddenly found themselves separated. They were suddenly all in different sections of an ancient, decrepit Japanese village, one that was caught in a strange and eerie twilight. Dancing around them in the breeze were glowing crimson butterflies that fluttered off, as if they were showing them which way they should go.

Whether it was safe to follow them or not was the question at hand.

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All Bobs Must Die: The Musebox

June 2016

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justoutrunyou - Things that go bump in the night.
daddyphantom - [LN] He's a Phantom. (Set before Nova's interviews)
googledox - [LN] [COMM] [TEXT]
juniordreddy - [LN] Send in the clowns
noboothneeded - (no subject)
iamresponding - [LN] The Doct - er, General Is In
shiftingurbulls - A Midnight Ride Gone Very Wrong
the_civilian - A New Angle. On Everything. [locked to Honey Lemon]
matchmadeinhell - [LN] Colonel Sanders in the house
intherealway - [LN] When you're alone and life is making you lonely...
revvinguptheharley - [LN] Accidentally in Love (Backdated to April Fools Day)
holyscoopbatman - [AI] It begins
pavlovs_daughter - [LN] Welcome to summer camp
timeslipping - [AI] Time Loop
unorthodox_greek - [AI] Odysseus Shrugged
morescaredofyou - [LN] Various locations - Open
iamresponding - [AI] Cold Reboot
gonebyebye - [LN] Who Ya Gonna Call?
morethanmyth - [LN] Plot Page
morethanmyth - [LN] Snapshots of the Damned

Page generated 6/17/25 05:43 am

Style Credit

Style: Fresh Air for Summertime by ninetydegrees
Resources: Texture by Design Shard and Icons by Romeo Barreto, John Caserta, Denis Chenu, Pedro Lalli, Marcus Michaels, P.J. Onori, Laurent Patain and Cor Tiemens from The Noun Project

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All Bobs Must Die:

The Musebox

Recent Entries

Things that go bump in the night.

[LN] He's a Phantom. (Set before Nova's interviews)

[LN] [COMM] [TEXT]

[LN] Send in the clowns

(no subject)

[LN] The Doct - er, General Is In

A Midnight Ride Gone Very Wrong

A New Angle. On Everything. [locked to Honey Lemon]

[LN] Colonel Sanders in the house

[LN] When you're alone and life is making you lonely...

[LN] Accidentally in Love (Backdated to April Fools Day)

[AI] It begins

[LN] Welcome to summer camp

[AI] Time Loop

[AI] Odysseus Shrugged

[LN] Various locations - Open

[AI] Cold Reboot

[LN] Who Ya Gonna Call?

[LN] Plot Page

[LN] Snapshots of the Damned

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June 2016

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