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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

OOC min age:18


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Thread Contributor: Steve Rogers[April Fools] Where There's Trouble...
Marvel-MCU

314 Posts
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Nyte

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#1
“Language!”

This was… New. Hub liked to throw you (everyone) for a loop every now and again, it seemed. Steve was dealing with things, or at least, he was trying to deal with things, and now this. A weird voice that he could hear from anywhere, even while running, and then suddenly the world shifted and changed and he was here, wherever here was.

What was worse was that Steve didn’t recognize where he was. No Stark Tower, no Avengers Compound, not even a mansion where Wanda lived. None of the other strange bits of the skyline from Hub. Wherever this was, it wasn’t the city he’d gotten accustomed to living in.

Picking himself up and dusting off, Steve took stock, of himself, what he had to work with here, and who was around him, because he definitely wasn’t alone. He had his phone, which meant, ideally, Friday. There was a man not far from him, dressed in all black and gray, and… “Queth!” A smile broke out on his face when he saw the familiar face of his one-time teammate. Bringing the phone up closer to his face, Steve swiped it open, happy to see it still worked, “Friday, you still with me?”

In his other hand, he clenched a small piece of paper, so even while he waited for answers from his friends, he read what it said. A blue purse? Steve shrugged, placing the paper in his pocket. First, he needed to make sure those around him were alright, then he could figure out why he just had to get his hands on a blue purse...

“That’s not going away anytime soon.”
*
Tag: Queth Seth Friday
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Sons of Anarchy-Main TV Universe

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Mike

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#2
Quote:The life of an outlaw is a life of being constantly on the move. Your businesses have to be soluble in case they’re uncovered and you need to quickly do away with them. Your home could need to be abandoned at a moment’s notice for the safety of your family. The protection of your brothers might require you to ride hundreds of miles to protect them. You could, at any moment, be put in jail and not know when the next time was that you’d see the faces of those you love. The right to have roots is something that’s reserved for those who’ve been at it longest, who’ve earned their protection from danger, either through reputation or through their network of backup.

Since I’ve come to this place, I’ve found myself growing thin roots, easily broken, but definitely there. I have a routine, I have safety, I have a steady source of income, and, of course, I have my redemption to work for. Today, it was as if the Hub decided to say that I’d been too arrogant in my actions. I found myself suddenly in another world, in unfamiliar company, and with no sure way of getting back.

You never stop being an outlaw, and once you become one, the world will do its best to remind you that your life is constantly in flux, that you can never quite rest easy.
Jax dusted himself off, checked his (concealed, obviously) guns, and tried to get a signal on his phone. The phone worked, obviously, but it couldn't find a signal. He shook his head, putting it back in his pocket, hoping that it would eventually acclimate to being in a new world and wishing that he'd been riding when this had happened. No matter how strange a world was, he didn't feel right if he couldn't ride in it. Frowning, he read the scrap of parchment in his hand (that he hadn't noticed until he went for his phone). "A picture...?" Just for the hell of it, he took his phone out and snapped a picture of a random building... but it couldn't be that easy. Oh well, there had to be stores somewhere here. He'd just have to find a picture that was small enough to pocket while he was looking around.
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OC-OC

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#3
This was an unexpected turn of events. In all the time that Seth had spent both in Hub as well as travelling from universe to universe, he had never been forced from one place to another. And make no mistake, he had been forced from Hub and to whichever universe this was. Not one of his and not one of the ones that he shared with his Beloved.

That narrowed it down. It also caused a look of annoyance to flash across the death god’s face as he looked around.

Ducks. He hated ducks.

Nasty little feathered beasts, those were, and while yes, they fell within his domain, he would happily wipe them all out of existence save for what it would likely to do the bio systems in which they lived. Ducks were prey animals, and there were far more majestic creatures who fed on them. Like humans. Humans like the ones that had found themselves here around him, also not by choice as it would appear. Looking at them, Seth shook his head; definitely, none of these had been the ones to send him here - none of them possessed the sort of power needed. Even the enhanced ones.

Reading the piece of parchment in his hand took but a moment, and the black-clad god sighed, shoulders heaving in the half-amused gesture as he reached his hand toward a small group of trees that lined the park they were in, a piece of the bark on one breaking off and zipping to him. Birch bark. There, he was playing the magician’s game. His wife should be proud of him. Rolling his eyes, he looked to the others, waving his hands in a shooing motion, “Yes yes, you can all read. Does anyone have anything difficult they are to find?” He wasn’t even reading their minds to find that information out. Look at him, interacting with the humans, respecting their privacy… Or at least, he was trying.
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Marvel-MCU-1

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Kel

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#4
“I am here Captain.” Friday`s digital voice came in tinny, distorted for the first few words, and even after it stabilized she still sounded...strangely mechanical. This universe could support her softwear...barely, stuck somewhere in the late 90s if the electromagnetic signals she was slowly (oh dear so very slowly) deciphering where to believed.

“I...I am not sure of how much aide I can be. But there a file written in my local storage that states i am to discover a `Scrooge McDuck`s wifi password. Which if you get me into range of said mans network that should be easily accomplished.”
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

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Moon

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#5
Queth hummed in amusement as she hit the ground, bike still in tow. She supposed that having most of your arm inside of a machine did make it more challenging to move you without moving the machine. Not that it mattered too much, only meant that when Steve called her name, she had to untangle herself before she could stand up. Queth brushed her hair out of her face, leaving a smear of oil across her forehead. She grinned and waved back to Steve, noting the paper tucked into her other hand.

"Nah. Mine's gonna be real easy so long as Steve here understands that theft is my only real option. It's a hubcap from a pickup truck. In case you couldn't tell, being a mechanic makes that very easy to liberate from someone's truck." She offered in response to the grumpy looking man in the dark clothes.

"I'm Queth, or Quethadia Nyx." She explained smoothly to the others, even as she instinctively reached foe the matrix. Which... Wasn't there. There was some basic WiFi - but not enough to support anything but the smallest part of her consciousness. So she looked into astral instead, only to find very little ambient magic. The brightest lights were the folks who surrounded her- the blonde fellow in the leather coat was surprisingly bright- but it was when she turned to address the magic user that the light started hurting.

Queth did not know what he was. And maybe it was only so bad because it was in contrast with a dark landscape- all she knew was that the light felt like it was searing her retinas. Snapping back to natural vision, she was unsurprised to see that there were afterimages in her eyes for the time being. Queth gave a small grumpy laugh even as she addressed the dark haired man. "Or at least it will be, once I can see again, Sparklepants." She offered, voice dripping with the annoyance she felt.
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Marvel-MCU

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#6
“Language!”

It was definitely not once a criminal, always a criminal. You made your decisions based on what you thought was the right, or best, thing to do at the moment. You looked at your options, and you made your decisions. Sometimes, you were wrong, and sometimes you were right. Sometimes things turned out well and people agreed with what you did, and then there were those times when you found yourself on the ‘wrong side’ of the law. Steve figured that he’d been lucky, and had chosen correctly most of his life, but he had made wrong decisions, and he’d made right decisions that conflicted with the law. That didn’t mean he was a criminal forever now, and it definitely didn’t mean that some of his closest friends, some of the people he had depended on in his life were criminals, or stuck as outlaws, forever, either. Steve simply refused to believe that. You could make bad decisions, do things for the wrong reasons, and come back from it. He’d seen it. Natasha, Clint, Scott. Hell, Wanda and Pietro. People didn’t just change, they had to want to, but it could be done.

He watched the biker take a picture of a building, wondering if it really was that simple. Then shrugging, Steve looked around himself, watched the magician(?) pull a piece of bark to himself with magic(?) hoping this scavenger hunt of seemingly random things would all be this easy. He had a few dollars, he could buy a blue purse, couldn’t he?

Friday’s answer had his shoulders relaxing a little bit; it was good to know she was still functioning, even in this odd world. Still, someone had sent them all here, which… That couldn’t have been easy. The magician didn’t seem to lack any power, and even Friday had been brought along, and that was odd in and of itself. But he could handle this. He’d handled everything else that had ever been thrown at him, including Red Skull, Loki, the Chitauri, and Ultron, so… (Of course, he’d always had others with him, like he did right now. This was better than being alone.) ”Okay. Wait…” He looked up, frowning in confusion, ”Scrooge McDuck? Like from… Like from Ducktales?”

Yes, Captain America watched Ducktales. Of course he did; Clint watched Ducktales, and while she’d never admit it (and likely kill you with a look if you suggested it) Natasha watched it with him, and Steve was nothing if not a social person, and the cartoon had been…. Cute. He looked to Queth, then sighed, ”If it’s necessary, it’s necessary. I’d rather not, but getting home takes precedence. We can always bring it back if the portal to this world opens up again.” He blinked, then shook his head, ”But if this is really like Ducktales, finding something like that could be very, very difficult, Queth.” He watched as she looked around, and then moved to make sure she was okay when she said she couldn’t see, his voice low, ”You okay?” They’d gone on a hell of a quest together, one that had changed how he saw things. He wouldn’t be leaving Queth behind here, no matter what.

“That’s not going away anytime soon.”
*
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Sons of Anarchy-Main TV Universe

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#7
@kel @eve @moon
Ducktales. They were in a fucking Disney show. This part of the Hub, no one had really warned him about: that it also backed up onto ridiculous places that shouldn't actually exist. "All right, let's... just hurry up and get what we need." He had a feeling that in the world of a kids' cartoon, his main skills weren't going to be all that useful. When did you ever see anyone actually get shot in a cartoon, after all? Graphic violence was out, too. Stealing tended to work, though, so maybe they were still going to be all right. "Just find me a department store where they develop pictures," he said. That was how it had worked in the early 90s, right? You go to the store, you pick up the pictures from where they were waiting, and then you supposedly go pay for them. He knew for a fact that a lot of the older Sons had, back when developing film was a thing, just gone in and walked out with their pictures from time to time. All he had to do was pull one picture out of someone's pack of developed pictures. Hell, he could even be nice and pull out a lousy one. "So he's done," Jax said, jerking a thumb at Seth. "You just need us to find a pickup truck. What do you need? And... you think it's going to give us any problems that we don't look like talking animals?"
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OC-OC

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#8
The automaton was going to be stymied here in this world; Seth could see it in how unsure she seemed as she spoke. Of everyone here, she was the only one he pitied; being trapped in this place would make things very difficult for her. The rest… Well, they’d be able to eat well, if they didn’t mind eating talking ducks.

Giving the elf a small, knowing smile, he asked lightly, “You seem quite certain that these ducks will be driving pickup trucks.” Seth knew all too well that not every universe operated the same way, or that things wouldn’t necessarily exist in every world. It was a little bit dull that everyone seemed to assume that this was going to be the case.

Sad, how mortals always thought things were constant.


He knew when the elf, Queth from what the blonde man called her, began to Look at him. And he knew that it was likely his power would take her by surprise, “I don’t believe that is…” Well, too late then. Her problem, really, trying to pry like that. She lashed out verbally, and Seth just calmly smiled at her, “Well, if I had known what you planned to do, I would have warned you that it wouldn’t work out so well for you.”

Nodding to Jax, Seth let the others draw their conclusions, looking around at the world. “Oh, I believe that yes, we will definitely be finding problems if we don’t look like the native population.” His smile, thus far a small, quiet thing, grew into the facsimile of a grin. “I can fix that, if you’d like.” With a snap of his fingers, the god gave each of them the illusion of being, well, a talking duck that resembled them as much as was possible while being a duck. There we go. No trouble with the natives needed.” Wasn’t he nice?
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Marvel-MCU-1

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Kel

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#9
Friday found herself...well slower than human, and that was not a good look for the AI, what was worse was when she tried to vocalize she ended up sounding closer to a Modem connecting than anything resembling her native Irish lilt. In other words she was not a happy camper. She was so slow that it took Steve mentioning where they were for her to access her internal storage...only to find it also limited. „Head towards the largest tower with a dollar sign painted in gold on the side. I should beable to avi-„ if a modem could Sound pissy that was definitely the sound that came from Steve‘s phone „Get my thingy.“ she finished sacrificing clarity for brevity.

@moon @eve @mike
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

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Moon

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#10
Queth snorted at the other men worrying about the pickup truck. "It's not a matter of whether or not they are popular here- presumably I would not be sent to get something that doesn't exist in this universe. And I've spent years learning about every bit of tech I could get my hands on. I can put this bike back together and ride until I find a truck- I'm confident I can get a hubcap from it."

She paused, peeling off her work gloves to showcase the bare metal of her one hand. "Even if I can't figure out how to remove it, paper never said it had to be in good condition. I'll tear it out if I must." Queth explained quietly, tugging her glove back on and moving absentmindedly to replace the parts in the bike to where they were supposed to be.

She did hear a part drop with her stun from the lights- but she was pretty confident she could find it when she opened her eyes again. "Thanks Steve, but I'm pretty good. Even if I look like a duck, it's a beautiful day, interesting world, stuff to do. And my eyes will recover- I just keep forgetting that their are hub inhabitants who shine so brightly." Queth replied, a certain amount of amusement in her voice-it occurred to her that Steve may find her happy go lucky nature uncharacteristic- seeing as she hadn't seen him since before the wish.

Focusing instead on the robot voice, Queth's eyebrows furrowed together. She felt genuinely bad for the ai- especially since- hell.

Queth cleared her throat as her eye sight returned. She took a deep breath and pulled a cord out from her neck. Under what had become 'feathers.' "Hey- uh. Steve called you- 'Friday'?" Queth started, addressing the phone awkwardly. "I don't know if part of your problem is low processing power but if it is..." She explained, voice trailing off as she played with the connector. Sighing she made her decision. And finished speaking. "If it would help you to have extra hardware to process, we can hook you up to me. I have most of an extra brain's worth of computer in my head- I'd have to disconnect from it, but that's not really too much of an issue. You should even be able to control my motorcycle using my processors." She offered, gesturing at a small black receiver embedded in the small vehicle.

Pausing again, she sighed. "You can even have use of my lower arm if you want. I only need it for hubcap removal."

@kel @Mike @eve
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Marvel-MCU

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#11
“Language!”

Ducktales was the only thing that Steve could think of off the top of his head that fit what he was seeing here; a world full of talking ducks that acted much like people would. Steve took the half a moment to be thankful to Clint and Tony for making him watch the rather silly cartoon series.

Develop pictures? Steve blinked and frowned; then nodded his head, ”I’ll keep an eye out for one.” And a pickup truck. Not just any pickup truck, though, a specific one, and Steve wasn’t entirely sure they existed here. He wasn’t going to say that to Queth, though; she seemed pretty confident, and he’d prefer to give it a good go before he started shooting down the positive mood here.

Friday had him worried, though. At least, she did before Queth offered herself up as a temporary home. The AI had never used the word ‘thingy’ before, at least not that he had ever heard (what she might say when it was just Tony in hearing distance was something Steve didn’t know, and until just now, had never had any real interest in knowing). It was worrisome, but Queth’s offer was amazingly kind. No matter what the AI decided, Steve gave Queth a relieved, terribly grateful look, ”Thank you,” he told her, his voice quiet but thick with gratitude. Friday was important; she might not like him very much, but Tony adored his AI’s, Steve knew, and that made her precious to Steve, too.

”Pretty sure I can just buy a blue purse at a store. Does anyone know where Scrooge’s tower is? If we head that way, maybe we can find the other things we need along the way.”

“That’s not going away anytime soon.”
*
@mike @kel @alex
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