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Rating: 3-3-3

Word Count: None

Fandoms: All

Canons: Open/Oc's Welcome!

Bans: Howard the Duck,
RPF* Real Person Fiction; IE Apping an actual celebrity

Main Rule:Don't Be a Dick

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Into the End of Days
Marvel-MCU-2

75 Posts
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Nyte

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#21
“His sister,” she pointed to Tiny Adorable Tony, she’d seen the reaction the guy had had when the redhead had disappeared, “Natasha Romanov,” and if her voice cracked just a little bit, well, it was Aunt Nat, who had taught her how to perfect the ‘sexy spy’ walk and had taken her out to shoot the seriously cool guns when Papa was busy at work, but she covered with a cheery tone immediately afterward, “and his girlfriend,” she motioned toward Glowbug, “or whatever. I don’t pretend to know other people’s lives.”

Queth’s words rocked Lori backwards; a world without the Avengers? The girl looked around them before she nodded, blinking rapidly a few times; she must have gotten an eyelash in her eye or something. “Yeah, those,” she waved a hand toward the ‘dead’ Iron Mongers, “Doesn’t happen in a world with Tony Stark still alive in it.” Because no way would Uncle Tony, in any iteration, let that happen. She didn’t want to think about her parents, her family, that had lived on this rock.

The Russian from Not-My-Bucky earned a glance from Lorelei. She knew his history. She’d seen the aftermath. Dude didn’t seem half tripping over himself to make things good with Tiny Adorable Tony, so either he hadn’t gotten his memories back yet, or he had already worked things out with either his version or Tiny Adorable Tony, or whatever. Maybe they were from the same world, who knew? When he mentioned her family, Lori frowned, her voice going a touch softer, “It’s depressing, isn’t it? Knowing they’re dead here. They died before I was even born.” She gave him a small flicker of a smile, eyes sad. “Sorry. Those things bothered me.” A lot. “But as the resident Barton in this group, I say this place is all the creepy and weird and let’s not stay here longer than we have to.”

Okay, so radiation poisoning wasn’t likely. Good. Maybe have Justin check her out when she got home anyway, though. Just in case. Also, because letting him be all doctor with her was fun. The downside was that they had a moon or planet coming down on their heads. Great.

“So. That’s happening. I vote we hustle, collect our beautiful damsels, and get the hell out of this place. Who’s with me?” She took half a second to double check her bow, rush to the Iron Monger she had shot with her arrows, and retrieve the arrow shafts. Plenty of arrowheads, and she had a store of normal broadheads stashed in the bottom compartment of her quiver if need be, but she only had the amount of shafts that she’d brought along, and it was a lot, but it wasn’t endless! Yeah. They had to get going… Before things got… Worse.
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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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Mike

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#22
The news from the glowing green boy didn’t make Virgil feel any happier about this. No, this wasn’t his world. This wasn’t any of their worlds, but this had been someone’s world, and now it had ended. The Crimson King had won, and the sign of that victory had just been announced. There was a lot that a world could come back from, but this… well, this wasn’t one of those things. There wasn’t anything to do but get what they came here for and be away before they were trapped.

“You’ve got the measure of it,” Virgil told Lori as he reloaded his guns. “If anyone’s going to turn back, this is the time to do it. The rest of us go on. That’s the only direction our road leads.” And, not seeing any point in waiting any longer, particularly when they were on a timeframe, he started down the rest of the tunnel.

The ‘rest of the tunnel’ didn’t really take very much time, all told. It wasn’t very long before it started to be obvious that there was light up ahead, the flickering, uncertain light of weak fire. As the tracks came into the station, where ages ago people would have lined up to get onto the train they’d seen buried in rubble back behind them, they could see the source. The turnstiles were long gone, scavenged for their metal, but the stairs up into the station were still there, and above them, apparently, was fire. The gunslinger, eyeing the barricades erected on the stairs (about halfway up) warily, looked back at the group. Catching their eyes and not speaking, he pointed to himself, Bucky, and Lori, then to the right side of the entrance, then to Safi, Chris, Jake and Queth, indicating them at the nearer, left side of the entrance.

Once everyone was in place, Virgil picked up a good size piece of concrete and tossed it into the stairwell, causing a huge clang as it hit the barricade. Nearly immediately, there were shouts, and gunshots rang out, kicking up chips of concrete as they whizzed between the two (safely hidden) groups of rescuers. Virgil shot a look across the gap of the doorway to the ones on the other side, his expression seeming to say ‘well, now THIS is happening.’
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

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Moon

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#23
Queth rubbed her aching temples even as Chris commented at her- he seemed to miss the fact that she was not actually a homicidal maniac. "You're right. I would very much shoot everything between us and the women we're rescuing." She flipped one of her gun to open the cartridge for him to see the non-lethal contents. "So it's damn helpful that I have tranq darts loaded up, huh? I also carry rubber bullets if I'm just looking to discourage." She explained with a roll of her eyes. Chris did know who his sister was, right? Did he really think Belle would tolerate Queth if she were a madwoman?

Her headache only worsened after the interfacing- so despite her previous mild annoyance with Chris, she accepted his hand with a gracious smile. Queth was slowly processing the information that she was being given- stretching her neck awkwardly before raising a hand as she started forwards. "Let me go first then- if the radiation is harmful, my tech will register that- and I'm not really alive enough for it to be a worry." She offered before the glowbug offered an answer.

"Alright nevermind, we should just all hustle." She dropped the small sword out of the place she had strapped it to her thigh, kicking it up to catch in her hand. She holstered her nonlethal gun in exchange for activating the slide that put the very lethal one out, and offered a gyro mount to help her aim. "This is loaded with high ex rounds- so keep your distance from any of my targets." She offered gruffly. Queth's one eye gave up all pretense of being natural, the pupil widening impossibly- until it revealed the pure metal and glass innards- countless different wires running to each part.

Then it grew legs and crawled out of the socket to take flight above her. She snapped her eyelid shut to hide the empty hole from the others' sights. Queth thought it might make them uncomfortable. Using her mind to turn the safety of her gun off- a solid click that she did so love, she flashed her grin at the others. "Are we going or what?" Words that were hardly out of her mouth before they were in fact moving forward.

She listened to the old gunslinger's instructions despite also sending her minute drone up along the roof towards the enemies- all lights off and hidden in the deepest shadow she could manage. It was a good thing that she had turned off her vocal capabilities in preparation for the sneaking- because she wanted to curse. Certainly three assholes with guns, and two folks reloading for them- that was pretty manageable- but the flurry of movement behind them was quite a cause for concern.

Automatically she started offering signals- that she had no idea if the others would understand. Some of them were at least a little military, so she assumed some of them would recognize a number of her motions- even if the exact details might be lost in translation. (So help her she was part of the elven military, she didn't know what normal humans used for signs- though she kind of figured the symbols for human were redundant in this situation where as far as she knew she was the only non-human.) If she got 'Three with guns, two with ammo, and lots of movement' across, Queth was counting that as a win.

It was probably cheating to stick only your hand past the corner to shoot- but it wasn't like she needed to stabilize what with the gyro mount doing just that- and she didn't need to see them with her drone feeding her all the info she needed. Still, she made one purposely off target shot before drawing back to see how they'd react to an explosion beside them.
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Marvel-MCU

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Moon

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#24
Bucky was grateful for his military training- meant that he continued to process the information about danger even after his knuckles had gone white at the mention of Black Widow. The confirmation from Barton's daughter didn't put him at ease. His eyes hardened as he prepared to rescue Nat. He understood now why the damn turtle had looked at him so weirdly- Bucky was supposed to be there to rescue Nat. He just wasn't the right Bucky for the task- it occurred to him that if Nat's James hadn't been dead, Bucky may have been mind mojo-ed like the others.

As it was, he was the best he could offer the redhead, so he would have to do. He checked his gun while he waited impatiently for the others to continue-mentally reviewing his tactics. It had been one thing when it was just some average girls that needed rescuing- but if an avenger could be held like this- then hoping that he worked well with Safi wouldn't be enough.

And- well. Bucky felt like he needed to rescue Nat- because if the situation had been reversed, she had been his, he had died- it's what he would have wanted his alternate to do. He did raise an eyebrow at Safi. "Why didn't you mention that Nat was in need of rescuing?" He near growled before looking away- the answer didn't actually matter too much to him.

He followed the gunslinger's instructions without hesitation- keeping watch of the other side so they could mount a combined assault. Meant that he caught the cyborg's hand signals with a sharp nod. Three gunmen- two with supplies- and likely more out of sight. Or- that's what he thought she was saying. Despite his various types of military service, her movements still looked strange to him. Just- not quite right. He whispered the words to the other two beside him- confident that the elf's explosion would cover the sound.

Then Bucky waited- because he wasn't going to leak their position by shooting- he gestured slightly for Virgil to lead them on this flank.
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DCU-Green Lantern Comics

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Michael

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#25
You know, this world was ending. There was something gigantic circling it, and in a short while (as much as two hours, according to his rings, though he didn’t like the margin of error it gave that estimate) it would crash into the planet and end whatever life was left here. The ring gave some low odds that insects and bacteria might survive, but the human race was done.

So why the fuck were they so set on stopping them from rescuing their friends!?

And, immediately, as the thought crossed his mind, he had to admit that it was a selfish thought. There were more people alive on this world than their three friends… and that was all they were concerned with. Granted, they had only known how bad this world was for a few minutes, but all the same… was that all they could do here? There were still people here… hell, god forbid, there might still be children here, and his ring had already detected it: There was no hope left in this world. There was nothing to look forward to, nothing to strive toward, nothing better to even hope for.

Compassion

At the same time that Queth’s explosion sent the gunmen scattering, possibly injured, drawing screams from farther away, Jake’s eyes flashed with an inner light and widened, the white ring glowing indigo. The only thing that kept him from being bowled over by the sudden influx of emotion was the iron will of the Green Lantern. It felt like it took ages to sort it all out, but finally, he was looking around, seeing the colors of the spectrum around him, piecing together what it meant. “They’re… terrified,” he said, only realizing after the fact that he was saying it out loud. “This tunnel… those zombies we killed, they’ve been here forever. Anything coming from this tunnel is death to them. They’re… terrified of us, of anything trying to come out of here.”
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DC-TV-1

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Kel

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#26
“Because I didn’t know!” He hissed back. The knowledge That now he had ANOTHER personal stake in this rescue did not fucking help.

He also did not pass the question on to Chris; because he was pretty sure that if the younger man had known he’d have given him a heads up. Even if he didn’t know about their encounter Chris wouldn’t let Safi be blindsided by a doppelgänger of his wife.

“Don’t shoot! We aren’t going to hurt you!” The words spilling from him, liquid Arabic into brusk Russian, English, Hebrew, Korean, Urdu. The first phrases you learned working with coalition forces (that and ‘where can I get a drink’)

Trusting the glow bug (and Chris’s Shield) Safi stepped out from behind the cover the cowboy had pointed him too holding his rifle above his head “We aren’t going to hurt you!” He repeated. Odds where pretty damn good that if this was a bastard version of New York that SOMEONE spoke English, but it didn’t hurt to add the languages he knew.

If they starred shooting (besides a panicked one or two) Safi was getting his ass back under cover, if not...well this might be the perfect way to get Chris to turn back. Because there was no way they were leaving civilians behind on a world with a fucking countdown clock.

“We destroyed the mecha. We are here to rescue our friends. We can evacuate you to a safer place than here.” His eyes flicked around trying to find a leader.
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DC-DCTVU-1

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Nyte

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#27
Christian arched a brow at Queth and huffed a sigh, “I don’t actually know you, Miss, and I have learned that when someone I don’t know mentions just shooting everything to not just assume they don’t mean it, or that they’re using non-lethal rounds. Reguardless of how well they know my sister. I try to take people at face value and not pretend to know them or their minds." His tone was apologetic and genuine, but that he was very, very stressed was beginning to show. He knew his sister, knew that she’d gone on a quest for a month with a bunch of people. He Knew Queth was one of those people, but while the little man might seem calm, but he was a wreck.

Christian had gone to the shop for two reasons; he had wanted to see the magical deck of cards at work, and he had been considering pulling a card. A card. Just one; he’d seen some of the cards that could get pulled, though, and he had begun to waffle back and forth on the idea. Regardless of what Safi or anyone else thought of him, Christian wasn’t suicidal. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to be cursed or any other terrible thing.

He had been so caught up in trying to make his decision that he had stopped paying attention to who was drawing cards and what had happened to them.

Until he’d seen a flash of red hair with a voice he’d recognize from anywhere request three draws. Three! What had gotten into Belle, Christian didn’t know, but he’d found a chair to stand on and watched, hands wringing together, as she made her draws. And for a moment, he had thought Belle would be okay, that she was going to get lucky. But she hadn’t, and he had surged forward, his mind made up for him by what had just happened.

He needed wishes to get Belle back.

Even if he had drawn the same card she had, even if he had gotten pulled away, at least then he’d be with her, then maybe, at least… He could reassure her, or something. He’d gotten lucky, luckier than those who had been taken. Heck, luckier than a lot of people, considering the weight of his satchel between the jewelry and the book he’d gotten. He hadn’t known that one of the women who had been taken had been Natasha Romanov, and he had been too distracted before to ask who the others were, something that he actually felt quite bad about now.

When Virgil mentioned people going back, Christian looked over toward Safi, shifting uncomfortably, wondering if the words were meant for him… Did the rest of everyone think he should turn back?

Oddly enough, Queth’s eye drone thing didn’t bother Christian in the slightest; he had a thinking, living roomba and a dozen dolls that were also alive and moved on their own in his rooms, Queth’s tech was interesting, not unsettling.

Christian had followed Safi to the side when Virgil motioned them that way, tucking himself into as small a space as he could; right now, there was little he could do to help… They needed people who could…

Not step out into the line of fire, Safi. It wasn’t really a sound that Christian made, but his frown deepened, and his face spoke volumes; he did not like Safi putting himself in danger like this. Yes, he understood what Safi was doing, but… Did it really need to be him??
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Marvel-MCU-2

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Nyte

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#28
She had the measure of it. Yeah, she did. And that measure sucked, but that was part of being an Avenger; you just had to deal with sucky situations sometimes. The good news was that if anyone here got hurt, she knew a great doctor she could send them to for medical treatment. Of course, it seemed that Tiny Adorable Tony was also some kind of healy-do too, so there was that.

She still felt better knowing she had a doctor she could go see when she got back.

Greeted by gunfire. That wasn’t, sadly, a new experience. Still, she never hesitated when Virgil pointed her where to go, she moved, and she moved quickly, with the air of someone who had been in similar situations in the past. Because she had. The life of a superhero, right? She pulled a stun arrow from her quiver, thumb passing over the control on her bow, telling the quiver which head to attach as she reached for it, nocking the arrow silently and waiting for...something. She wasn’t sure, but she figured she’d know it when she saw it.

Terrified? Well… Okay, maybe. And then Jacob explained, and Lori looked back toward where they’d come from, her voice soft, “They have no idea there’s a way to safety down here.” The world was ending, all of these people, frightened and desperate, were doomed. And their salvation was just down that tunnel, which had, until a few minutes ago, been blocked by Iron Mongers.

Damn.

Serious Steve stepped into the line of fire, and Lori straight up rolled her eyes at the out and out dangerous move. Dude was all keen to send Tiny Adorable Tony back to safety, but for himself, he was gonna step out in front of machine guns. Brilliant. And so, so, so Captain America. But all she could do was cover him. And pitch her voice low and gentle, “He’s right - there’s a way to safety here, all cleared out.”
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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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Mike

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#29
Virgil slowly uncocked the hammers of his pistols, then holstered them, electing to come out empty-handed as the others started filing out in the wake of Queth’s explosion. No one was shooting, and that was a good sign. These people apparently still had bullets in their world, but Virgil was willing to be that they didn’t have that many, all things told, and if it came to a fight, this group had them outmatched.

Even the Gunslinger was unprepared for what he saw when they walked up the stairs. The building had once been magnificent, he could tell that. High, arched ceilings rose above them, and he could just barely pick out a trace of green beneath what seemed to be centuries of soot, residue from the several weak fires he could see. They didn’t have much in the way of fuel, and what they had seemed to be cooking some scant amount of meat that they’d come up with somewhere. He wasn’t examining closely, but he would be willing to guess that they were rats, and he was sure that he’d find, if he asked (which he wouldn’t), that the rest of their diet was made up of insects. In the worst worlds, those were the last creatures to die out.

The people were a miserable lot. They seemed to mostly be older, in their sixties and fifties, if he judged right, but here and there was a younger face, and he counted at least five children in the masses huddled in the far end of that room, the youngest no more than five, even accounting for malnutrition’s effect, and all of these people were malnourished.

There was quite a bit of grumbling in the group, a few jeering laughs, but by and large the people stayed back from them and didn’t engage them. One man, the one who still had a gun ready (a sign that yes, this world still had people with some capability), a lean, ratty looking man who looked too sly and stubborn to have died in this wretched world, took it upon himself to speak for the group. “Do you think we haven’t looked for somewhere safe? There’s nothing left to find. This city’s almost dead, and there’s nothing left outside this city, either, just our choice of when and how we’ll die.” The murmur of approval from behind him illustrated the sad truth of the matter: In this world, any promise of safety was likely a trap, particularly coming from a known place of death.

“They speak true, sai,” he said. “As true as the fact that those machines you’ve been afraid of lie dead behind us.” He didn’t expect his words to sway the man, though… not on their own. As he stepped forward with Safi and Lori, he brought out the little scrimshaw turtle, and the man, once he’d seen it, had his gaze transfixed upon it. “As true as you can hear the call of the last will of this world right now, sai,” he said, lowering his voice so only his companions and this lone man, standing between the rescuers and his people, could hear him. Hypnosis did tend to go over poorly with some people, even if that wasn’t quite what this was. “I cry your pardon for doing this, but time is scarce. Now hear me and hear me well… I’m going to put this away in a moment.” The man looked forlorn at that prospect, but Virgil didn’t give him a chance to speak. “When I do, you won’t remember seeing it, but you will remember what it feels like to believe that there can be something better, and you will remember it well enough to believe what my friends tell you. We did not come here with the intent of saving you and yours, but it may be that we were sent for that purpose regardless, and now that we’ve found you, we don’t want to abandon you. Will you listen to what they say?” Slowly, the man nodded, his eyes never wavering from the turtle, and even some of those behind him and spotted it past him and were staring in astonishment at it.

Virgil closed his hand over the turtle again, removing it from view, and the man blinked a few times, as if a slight dizzy spell had come over him… which, given the state of their nourishment, was likely a common occurrence for them anyway. “The gentleman and the lady speak true,” he said again. “You haven’t been able to move through those tunnels even in your long lifetime, sai. Now that it’s clear, that’s the one place left in this world you haven’t looked. For your father’s sake, will you believe us, take your people to where it’s safe before they’re all lost here?”

The man looked, this time with an uncertain worry, at the people behind him.
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

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Moon

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#30
It had been plenty for Queth to know when she saw the people running from the explosion- she was moving to disarm before Jake had even said anything- waving one hand in a 'don't shoot' at her companions. She slid her gun back up her arm, forcing the gyromount back in as well. Tucking the sword in her belt she looked at the others standing in the open with a groan. They really didn't seem to be getting the 'let the metal girl go first' part.

Still, she too walked out from cover, hands up at her ears, which with an afterthought she flipped her hair over. No need to give these folks another reason to be afraid of them. She opened her mouth to speak when Virgil did that for them- which she wasn't going to argue with. Her way with people was brusque at the best of times.

Her heart melted when she saw the young children cowering in the corner. Completely ignoring all the others, she slowly walked towards them before kneeling down in front of them, a distance of ten feet between her and the children still. Moving glacially slowly, she pulled her shirt up and opened the smuggling compartment there. The scent of the muffins made even her hungry so she wondered what these folks would think of them. Still moving slowly, she placed the food carefully on top of a piece of tinfoil she had been using for insulation.

When her chest was empty, she closed it up and pulled her shirt back down. Speaking softly she offered "These are warm and should taste good. I promise they are safe." Just to drive that home, she took a small piece of one of the muffins and popped it into her mouth. Swallowing, she made certain they could all see the motion before turning towards the adults who were standing beside the children.

Queth had brought this food for the rescuees- though she supposed that these people counted as well so it didn't matter too much. She could apologize to Belle when they found her.

Opening the compartment in her leg next, Queth produced a thermos of vegetable soup. Taking the lid off, she poured some into it for way of explanation, before like she had with the muffin, taking a small sip. "This isn't much but it should help you feel better. Please share it as you see fit, but make sure the children get something to eat." Raising her hands back up in a surrender, she carefully stood and walked backwards to her companions, making no sudden or threatening movements. She didn't bother offering an explanation of her actions.
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DCU-Green Lantern Comics

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Michael

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#31
Jake had been ready to throw a shield up to block any gunfire that came at them, but he was happier that it wasn’t necessary. They didn’t need another firefight, even if the first one had been pretty quick. They had a place to get to, people to save, and these people sure as hell needed to get out of here, too. Only… it wasn’t happening, and as he watched, he knew that. They were overwhelmed by the show of generosity, he could tell that, and he could feel that faint kindling of hope (although he wouldn’t go so far as to say it was growing, these people had been suffering too long for that just yet), but they were asking them to go through the tunnels. Some of them were willing, that leader that Virgil had… done whatever it was he did to seemed to be willing and even trying to convince the others, but the children especially weren’t willing, and some of the others, the more timid of this sorry group, didn’t seem to be very willing either. All things told… Jake couldn’t really blame them, either.

“I think there’s an easier way,” he said. “And we don’t even know that there aren’t more of those zombie-things down there in that tunnel we went past, farther down that hadn’t heard us yet. I think I can…” He paused, looking at the survivors of this world, the fearful, pleading looks in their eyes. Yes… they were afraid, and he couldn’t blame them at all, could he.

He could still detect the portal, his green ring was good at that. More than anything right now, though, they needed these survivors to be safe. He focused the indigo light, and then held both rings up. There, in the air in the middle of the room, a new portal opened, a swirl of green and indigo light that spun in the air, showing the Hub behind it. “There,” he said, gritting his teeth. Linking up to the other portal was difficult, more difficult than it should have been, but it was there. “Now go. There’s safety through there. We shouldn’t be too long behind you.”

Once the refugees were gone, there was just an empty terminal with shattered glass doors that led out into the streets of an only somewhat familiar New York. Their destination, and the map confirmed this, was right next door when they emerged from Grand Central Station, in the spot where Jake vaguely remembered the Metlife building being, and Lori and Bucky would remember Stark Tower being. The name at the top, though, read "STANE" where "STARK" should have been, in giant letters that had once been able to light up against the New York skyline. Now, though, they seemed just as dead as everything else.

The lobby was deserted, with signs of fighting and struggles all over it in the form of long-broken furniture, bullet holes, and other such destruction. The sole sign of life emerged when they had walked most of the way in, a staggering, skeletal figure that limped in from a side room. The man was impossibly old, with whispy hair hanging down to around his waist. Wires and tubes jutting from his skin showed that, at one point in time, he'd been a lab subject of some sort, and from the fact that there were still drips of liquid coming from the tubes, that point in time hadn't been very long ago. He peered across the lobby through cloudy eyes at them, eyes widening with either relief or horror. "Please," he rasped, his voice strained from lack of use. "Please..."

He staggered, grasping at whoever was closest, he couldn't even really see them. "Please... Kill me. Quickly..."
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Marvel-MCU

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Moon

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#32
Bucky mostly waited behind the others, having brought his gun down, but not disarmed as the others had- he wasn't quite as willing as the others to spend time rearming. He was feeling a bit pressed for time now- such that he hadn't even acknowledged Safi's reply past an understanding duck of the head. He had at the very least, turned to watch the door behind them in the off chance other enemies might arrive that way.

He was grateful to get moving again, pit of his stomach filling with anxiety as it was. Bucky owed so much to Nat- and James owed even more to this Nat- but he was dead so Bucky wanted to repay it. So standing around talking to civilians- while yes, walking into the line of fire unarmed was a very steve thing to do- and calming them was faster and less wasting of ammo than fighting them- and yes Bucky was genuinely not a maniac and wanted to see as many of them leave alive as possible- well he didn't like that they had to stand around and talk.

He wrinkled his nose at the name on the tower- because no matter Bucky's worries about his best friend's affections- Bucky had never doubted that Tony Stark was a good person. Tony Stark had fought Obadiah Stane- which made Stane not a good person. (Likely anyways, obviously Tony had also fought both Steve and Bucky, and he liked to think that while he was an ass, Steve was a boy scout so it made up for it.) Bucky shook his head clear and marched into the building, wary of movement- but getting the go ahead from the girl with the tiny helicopter thing that there wasn't any immediate danger.

The old man lunging at him sent him flying back into memories Bucky wished he could forget- memories of being unable to tell fact from fiction, from being forced full of so many different chemicals he couldn't recognize his own best friend immediately. Memories of talking to an empty room since he couldn't tell when someone was there and when someone wasn't. He shuddered slightly, forcing himself back into the present where this old man looked up at Bucky with unseeing eyes.

This old experiment seemed to process very little except the metal arm and the gun Bucky was holding- and the fact that he likely couldn't tell Bucky apart from an iron monger was what tipped it for the ex-assassin. Bucky willingly gave himself over to the winter soldier, reaching up and snapping the old man's neck with only the bare strength of his prosthesis. Inside of the soldier, James Barnes was torn between horror and relief. Because the man wasn't suffering anymore- and Bucky would have given almost anything for that a few times in his life- and at the same time, he had just snuffed a life out with only one hand and the soldier felt no guilt for that.

Glancing at the others out of the side of his eyes, The winter soldier pulled his mask on to hide the grimace he sported- and nodded forwards as the only indication of what he suggested they do before he continued on himself.
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The Dark Tower-Mid-World

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#33
The old man nearly sobbed with relief as Bucky moved to do as he'd asked. As soon as Bucky's hands were on him, though, it was apparent to anyone who saw his face (as in, not Bucky) that something was wrong. The man's face seemed to contort up into a mask of sudden terror and blind rage. "No... NO!" he rasped, before the snapping of his neck silenced anything further from him. He flopped down to the ground... and then the body shuddered.

Muscles expanded painfully beneath skin that was turning green. The man thrashed, the head flopping unnaturally as a body that had been able to heal just about anything tried to heal a fatal injury. The Hulk was, as ever, the strongest creature in the world, but this time that didn't exactly mean much. He was leaner, more wasted than anyone had remembered seeing, like he'd been deflated somehow. Bones showed under his skin, with sickly, yet undoubtedly powerful, muscles stretching along them grotesquely in an image of pathetic, painful destructive potential. They could see the body trying to knit itself back together where Bucky had snapped its neck, and while it couldn't give any coherent words, the furious, agonized noises it made spoke volumes at what the creature was going through.

He began to thrash and lunge about, not knowing if he was about to die or live, if he was going to smash or collapse. One thing was clear enough, though... if it did heal, they were in trouble, and even if it didn't, while it was blindly thrashing, and convulsing, they might be in even more danger from it. As if to highlight this, the ancient Hulk smashed through a support column only yards away from where the group stood, bellowing a noise that sounded just as much like a groan of despair than a roar of rage.
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DC-TV-1

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Kel

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#34
It wasn’t nice, it wasn’t good. That didn’t stop him from feeling a surge of disappointment when the glowbug did something useful and managed to connect to the portal. Great for them. Bad for his half formed plan to convince Chris to escort them back and make sure the kids where ok.

The last chance to turn back callously discarded Safi’s expression hardened for the walk to what was clearly their destination.

His weapon swiveled at the first scuff of bare feet against the dirty rubble strewn lobby floor.

Red.

Copper in the air and on your lips.

Fire burning in his veins.



Blink.

Breathe.

Focus.

He wasn’t in that room.

He hadn’t been for years.

Safi slid beside Barnes reading beyond words or a shared history the same intent, the same need to give this poor bastard the freedom he begged for.

“Are there others?” He asked quietly, the vague glassy eyes told him there hadn’t been anyone home for a long long time. But that shard that remained only wanted one thing.

If Barnes looked at him Safi would have nodded his approval, shielding the movement from the rest-(Chris) a whispered prayer on his lips.

The sudden change took him by surprise- was it a last gasp of self preservation? By instinct Safi’s Head whipped around to see if there was anything behind them-

The roar that no human throat could produce brought him right back.
“Shit!” He didn’t think; the prayer shifted into guttural vowels. If anyone spoke Hebrew they would recognize individual words but...together they made no sense.

Unless you were from his very particular version of the IDF special forces trained to fight magical threats.

He had no idea if it was magic but maybe the words he’d been taught meant to strip demon possessed and Golems of their strength and invulnerability would work on this monstrosity.

Safi jumped, landing on the crumbled pillar, legs pumping he saw his bullets having little to no effect-

He landed on the once humans neck, slamming his muzzle into the still visible break he held down the fucking trigger.

He never knew if his version of decapitation worked before he was swatted off the double impact of hand and ceiling shattering Chris’s two hits Shield.

And he still had about 20 foot drop.
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DC-DCTVU-1

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#35
What had been meant to be ‘go get them and run the hell home with them’ sort of thing (at least in Christian’s eyes) had turned into something far more complex and difficult, but they weren’t going to leave these people doomed to certain death; not when they had a safe way home. Christian agreed wholeheartedly with Jacob’s actions, even if it slowed them down. Even if it kept them from rescuing Belle and the others for a few more moments. Some things were worth it. Queth's offer of food meant a whole lot to Christian; he approved of her actions, obviously, and offered her a small, apologetic smile. He'd apologize properly after these refugees were safely away and they were walking to the Stark (he refused to think Stane) building.

Christian was close enough to see the ancient man stumble up to Bucky. He was close enough to hear the desperation in his tone when he made his plea.

It didn’t occur to him who this might be, who the man might have been, until the body fell and began to change. He might not be Tony Stark, but Christian was damn smart, smarter than his position as a PA often lent him credit for. He knew what Safi had hidden from him, even if he understood the request, even though he knew that what Barnes was doing was borne of mercy, not of violence. He didn’t like it, of course he didn’t, but he would never hold it against Bucky for showing the man mercy.

Except for the fact that that withered, ancient man wasn’t just an old man at the end of his rope. The moment that green, even the aged coloration that quickly spread over the waste of the man he’d been, appeared, Christian let out a yelp of alarm, pulling things from his satchel as quickly as he could.

Safi was close. Too close. Bucky was a super soldier, he would be able to take what the Hulk, aged and weakened or not, might be able to put to him, but Safi? Safi wasn’t enhanced. He was strong, but he was human strong. “No no no!” If Banner’s plea had been desperate, Christian’s mantra was a fervent prayer, spoken thickly even as he opened himself up to his magic, pouring it into two things.

The first item that Christian gave his attention and energy was a single feather, obviously one of several plucked from a pillow at some point. It was small and white, but it was obviously a feather. He worked his magic far more quickly than he usually did, telling himself the feather was Safi. He lifted it and let it go to drift back onto his hand, and told himself that his hand was the floor. Then he turned his attention to the doll he’d used before, using another space to quickly strike the necessary lines with the wax pencil, not even bothering to erase what he’d done before - that was spent, he knew it was. Again, he opened himself up to his magic, pouring it into the doll, into the rune that represented the shield, and into Safi.

He needed Safi to be okay. He couldn’t consider what he’d do otherwise, couldn’t fathom the idea that Safi might not come home from this. That it would be his fault.

He wouldn’t let that happen. He just wouldn’t.
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Marvel-MCU-2

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#36
Not for nothing, but Lori was glad that the poor folks here were sent to Hub. The people there good; they'd see these refugees had food and shelter and received medical help where it was needed. Good, but that hadn't been their goal, which meant their work wasn't over yet.

She had turned her attention to the tower, not her uncle's but the man who had likely caused his death in the world, where the kidnapped women were being held. She didn't worry about the man. If he had once looked familiar to her age and agony had long since twisted his features into something unrecognizable in the short time she had to register the request for death, and Not-Her-Bucky’s acquiescence of it before the transformation began.

“Oh hell on wheels.” She might not have recognized Bruce as a human, but the Hulk was unmistakable even in his old age. And…. come on. This was her family, and this world just kept on fucking with them! Her parents were dead, he uncles were dead, her aunt was dead…. And here was Hulk, miserable, in pain, old, and probably (understandably) freaking out. Yeah, Lori straight up hated this world.

Slowly, cautiously, she swiped her pinkie over a very specific spot on her bow, knowing the tiny computer chip embedded within the wood would recognize the command, even though she had used it only once before, and then only to make sure she had it down. Just in case. Now, years later, she ‘keyed’ in the command and silently, deliberately slid the arrow from her quiver, eyes on the Hulk. “Hey now,” she spoke gently but playfully, sounding much like her fathers in tone, “Come on, Big Guy, calm down, okay? No one here wants this. We just want to save our friends and family, and you want to get some peace and quiet, right?”

She wanted him to calm down. She wanted to go their way and get the ladies they had come here for. This world was ending, they'd saved who they could. This Bruce had begged for death, this Hulk was a shadow of his former self. “Please don't make me do this, Hulk. Please.” She begged him this time even as she slipped the arrow into her bow, never taking her eyes off the monstrous figure before her.
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DCU-Green Lantern Comics

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#37
Well this certainly sucked.

Jacob was only alerted to the fact that something was about to go horribly wrong by his ring suddenly screaming an alert in his ear. Now, no, he wasn’t an expert on Kai’s world. He knew some of the bigger players, but this guy? No, this guy hadn’t been one of the ones he’d paid a lot of attention to. So when Safi went to shoot the hell out of him, he figured this was done… right up until the point that Safi went flying through the air.

He should have been all over this from the start, but no, he’d gotten to it late, and now someone was smashing into the ceiling. Jake sprang into action, taking to the air and catching Safi in a loop of emerald energy, diverting the crumbling ceiling with another sweep of power while he was at it. He let go of Safi back by where Chris was, leaving him just a modest foot or so to drop to the ground as he tried to figure out what he was going to do with this mess. If he had more of the spectrum under his belt, he might have had more options, but right now all he had was compassion, and compassion wasn’t giving him much to work with. Looks we’re doing this the old fashioned way…

All around Jake the construct formed, power armor to protect him from the Hulk. The withered juggernaut slapped a massive fist into him, but the construct held, and Jake slammed an armored fist into him in return. They traded blows like that a bit, and while Jake was sure his construct was going to hold up, it was painfully clear that no, none of his hits were really doing anything. Dammit…

On the upside, the Hulk was now focused on him and not on the others. On the downside, the Hulk was now focused on him and not on the others.
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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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Mike

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#38
Virgil had both of his guns out and ready, and he had the sense to not jump at him like Safi had. He waited until he had a shot, then unloaded twice with both guns in rapid succession. He saw the Hulk’s head jerk four times with the impact, saw the dent in his skin where they’d struck his temple, and heard all four of them clatter against the floor. Well, that was no good, was it. The green boy still had its attention, though, a punch he dealt the monster drawing a reaction instead of the gnat stings that his bullets had inflicted on it.

The green boy wasn’t making much progress, although the monster wasn’t making much progress on him, which was something. Safi hadn’t managed much, and he didn’t think Bucky had much that Safi didn’t. The mechanical girl… she might have something up her sleeve, he wasn’t going to rule her out, and the magic boy might have something, too, but… no. The last girl, she definitely did have something, and she wasn’t sure about using it.

He kept his guns read, refilling the empty chambers, but he knelt behind her, watching for an unlikely shot that he might get. “He’s beyond reason,” he said in a low voice. “Look in the eyes, you can see it there. He’s stopped being a man… all you see is a beast, dying by inches in agony. You can see it too, you just need to look for it.” His voice was calm, collected and gentle, not ordering, but holding that firmness of one who knows exactly what he’s talking about. “It’s a shot you can’t take while you’re thinking about consequences, reasons, or the past. Now… take a breath, clear your mind. You know that he’s going to die. You know he can take someone with him, and we can’t have that. You don’t want that.”

There was a mighty crash as the Hulk slammed into a wall, its head still moving unnaturally as its spine tried to knit an injury that was too severe. Virgils grip tightened on his guns, but he didn’t jump, did not flinch. “Regret comes after you take the shot. There’s always some regret… that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t take the shot. Take a breath, take aim, and do what has to be done.” He watched her, as he coached her as he’d coached hundreds of boys her age (and some older) in a situation like this. Some of them had hated him for helping them do it. She might hate him for it. He might hate himself for it… but he was still going to do it.
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Marvel-MCU-2

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#39
Lorelei was not normally one to hesitate. but this, today, was different. This was family. Her family.

No one else here was looking at their family and thinking about putting an arrow through them. The closest that might come to it was Bucky, not her Bucky, but a Bucky, and even he couldn't claim to be as close to Bruce or Hulk as she was, at least not in her universe.So she hesitated. end the old cowboy, of all of them, was the one to notice. When he came over to her Lori did her best to not look at him, knowing that he was only coming over to tell her to do it. She knew. She knew she needed to do it, she knew she was the only one capable, but it was Bruce... This was family.

When Virgil began to speak, Lori closed her eyes, she didn't want to hear this, she already knew. but it wasn't wrong, with the old man was saying, it was just unpleasant. she had never seen the Hulk so out of control, this wasn't just rage, this was pain. Agony. He had asked to die, who were any of them to tell him he couldn't? What was the difference between dying when the moon crashed into this world and dying now with an arrow you yourself created through you?

She knew the difference. The difference was that she would be doing it, not nature, not the bad guys, but her.

That didn't make Virgil any less right. she didn't hate him, she hated the situation. she hated whoever did this to this world. She hated this damn arrow. This arrow that Bruce had made, had given her father and then her to do this very thing. To kill him, to kill the Hulk, should the need ever arise.

When she opened her eyes, her lashes were moist, but her eyes were dry. She looked at the Hulk, not taking her time but not rushing, and brought her bow up. It was the work of a moment to aim; he was a large target and she was a very good shot. She breathed in, held it for a moment, and released her arrow along with her breath. Even as it hit home, Lori murmured what would become a prayer and a plea, “Forgive me, please.”

She gave Virgil a single grateful look for his support, then turned and walked toward the tower. It was time to get this bastard, whoever he was, and a rescue their friends. and get the fuck out of here. Lori at least was ready to go home.

Next time she went back to her own world she would make sure to spend some time with Bruce. To make sure he knew she loved him.
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DC-DCTVU-1

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#40
Alright. Okay. This was happening. They had the Hulk here, and he was big and angry and old. Safi attacked him, and Christian nearly lost his mind. This was the Hulk and Safi was… Safi. Squishy. Or at least, squishier than the Hulk, which wasn’t saying all that much except that Safi was in danger. Lots and lots of danger. Which was proven when the Hulk swatted him and he want flying.

Christian had never held his breath for so long, casting both of his spells without so much as sneaking in an exhale, panic lurking at the back of his throat and crawling down his spine. The green hero had the Hulk occupied, which was good, because Christian was mid-panic attack, his attention on exactly one person, and that person was not the giant green monstrosity that everyone else was focused on.

The smaller man didn’t so much as twitch a muscle while Safi was in the air; he watched as Safi first began to fall more slowly and then float entirely until he was just over the ground not far from where Christian was standing, all but rooted in place.

The moment that Safi was on the ground and steady on his feet, Christian regained the ability to both move and breathe. With jerky, uneven movements, Christian surged forward toward Safi the doll, feathers, and pencil slid back into the bag without Christian seeming to even be consciously aware of the motion. What he was aware of, however, was the fact that he scrambled to Safi, throwing his arms around the larger man in as tight a grip as he could, burying his face in Safi’s chest all while he struggled to breathe. He shook, and every time he did manage to take a breath, he murmured his thanks to God for letting Safi be alive right now. Because when the Hulk had hit him, and then he had hit the ceiling and started to fall, Christian had been worried that he wouldn’t survive. But he had, and Christian was damn grateful.

He knew that someone had done something to the Hulk, he could hear it, but his attention was focused on Safi. On Safi, and forcing himself to breathe. The important things.
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