House of Maximoff: A Reassembly One-Shot

[herodofcows]

You’re sitting in the Blackbird, strapped in with Nightcrawler to your left and Wolverine to your right. Rachel sits further towards the back, in intense conference with Psylocke. Occasionally, she shoots you a little smile. Kitty and Colossus are nearer to the front, holding hands silently. Emma, Gambit, and Rogue are arguing half-silently, half-aloud. Starfire is sitting nearby, keeping silent and looking uncharacteristically lost. Beast is listening, but not reacting.

It's as Art Alexis once said so wisely: so much for the afterglow.

You'd been afterglowing pretty hard in the medbay after . . . well, you know. Rachel had slipped back out into the rest of the mansion, leaving you with a quick smooch and a promise to talk about this (whatever "this" is) once you'd rested up. A little bit after, Psylocke had shown up to check on you and to give you back the Bleach DVDs you'd lent her (her look of ineffable knowing may have been a sign that she knew exactly what you and Rachel had been up to, or it could have just been just Psylocke being Psylocke). It had been shaping up to be a remarkably quiet evening . . .

. . . and then the main team had returned, and you'd gotten a telepathic briefing from Emma that had sent nearly every member of the team onto the Blackbird to Genosha.

Emma had given you the raw information:

~There's no pleasant way to say this: We've found Wanda Maximoff. Magneto has her in Genosha. Charles and Doctor Fate have been working since the Disassembly to try and fix her. I could give you platitudes about how much effort they've expended and how they've left no stone unturned, but I'll be blunt: She is powerful enough to destroy reality in a moment of madness, and they cannot fix her. We cannot fix her. We are being called in to help decide whether she lives or dies. Please check any delusions of clean hands or conscience at the door.~

Scott had given you the context:

"I know this is an emotional issue for all of us. Some of you know Wanda. Some of you have lost friends because of her. I'm not saying anyone here should forget any of those feelings, but I'm asking all of you to weigh them against the broader picture. Consider what might happen if she continues as she is, but balance that with what we do here at Xavier's: we help mutants that need help.

"I'm not here to tell you what to think, and I know you'll all decide according to your own conscience. And that's all I can ask of you. You're all my teammates, and I trust each and every one of you. Extend the same courtesy to each other. This is an ugly issue, and people will disagree. That's okay. Don't let this become about grudges, or about the argument for argument's sake. This is about Wanda Maximoff and the fate of the world. Anything else is secondary."

And now, flying towards Genosha with the rest of your family, you think. Unlike most of the others, you don't know Wanda all that well. You never fought her during her Brotherhood days, and you'd mostly steered clear of her by chance during the few times that the X-Men had crossed paths with the Avengers. A part of you wonders if that makes this easier or harder.

"So . . ." Wolverine growls, breaking the silence between you three, "Am I gonna be arguing with or against you guys?"

"I suppose that depends, Logan," Nightcrawler rejoins mildly, "Do you believe that it is for us to decide that anyone is beyond saving?"

"Fred?" Logan shoots at you, not responding to Kurt.

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

His time spent in the infirmary had been great, despite nearly ripping his newly stitched stitches. Before Rachel had left him completely, he repeated his earlier words. “All in.” He made it clear what he wanted “this” to be. He wanted to give it a real shot. Remember, his emotions are powerful even though he doesn’t always express them. He just had to work on expressing them – at least to Rachel. That same kind of openness was not extended to Betsy, who was giving him the stare of someone who just knew. That look was met with a small clearing of his throat and a rushed thank you for the DVDs.

He’d barely showered up when the telepathic message came through.

Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch. Daughter of Magneto and sister of Quicksilver. She was a powerful, powerful mutant. Her madness had caused the implosion of the Avengers… and she was in Genosha being treated by some of the best and brightest. Emma’s stance on her was clear. The former White Queen was in favor of killing the Scarlet Witch. Fred didn’t know the woman, but that didn’t enter into his calculus. What he knew was how she came to be in this state. As he recalled, this mental state was done to her. She was a victim… a victim who could destroy the world.

It made the decision a tough one to make. Fred could already guess where certain people would fall on the issue. Fred himself was flanked by the proverbial angel and devil on his shoulder. Kurt would lean towards helping her. Logan… death. It was certainly the more pragmatic choice given the circumstances.

He glanced up and back, catching Rachel’s smile towards him. He gave her a small smile in return. Yes, he’d noticed Kitty and Rasputin holding hands. On any other day he would have felt his heart cracking a bit more, but tonight was different. He was different. For what it was worth, he was happy. All in, he’d said. All in she would get.

Wolverine broke the silence. Logan knew he wouldn’t sway Kurt… this was for Fred’s benefit. The samurai’s face maintained a solemn expression. His emotions were once again well hidden by his mirror shades. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. There were no quotes from the Hagakure about world-ending innocents. But what it does say… The monk pursues courage with the warrior as his model, and the warrior pursues the compassion of the monk. “We don’t know everything. We shouldn’t rush to judgment.”

[herodofcows]

"Th' **** more is there to know?" Logan snarls, claws coming out slightly, "Think Frost was pretty ****ing clear. If Chuck can't do it, an' Fate can't do it . . . who the **** else is gonna fix her?"

"Mein freund, with all the wonders and marvels within our universe, do you truly believe that there are no other possibilities? Do we-"

"Elf, we're talkin' somethin' like the Disassembly but all over. How long do we give her before-"

And, wonderful! Now Kurt and Logan have joined the choir of discordant voices. Boy, this is sure how you'd wanted to end the day!

After what feels like an unending single disagreement in multiple parts, the Blackbird sets down. You step out into the sunlight with everyone else, blinking away an involuntary scowl that returns almost immediately as soon as the brightness subsides and reveals Genosha.

Genosha . . . Hell.

You remember when you'd first visited Genosha, back after Magneto had initially claimed it. There had been an energy to the place, an undeniable sense of purpose. Buildings had gone up overnight. The streets had bustled and the skies had swarmed with mutants putting together new lives for themselves. You'd visited as part of an Excalibur fact-finding mission, and you'd above all been struck by the sheer spirit on display. Genosha hadn't just been bustling; there were murals, sculptures, spontaneous acts of creativity and flair brought into being by will and artistry that were only possible when mutant artists were given the chance to really cut loose. Heck, back then? People were predicting that Genosha would soon become the Paris of the Southern Hemisphere.

No single invasion had taken down Magneto's mutant capital. Oh, there had been attempts, sure. There had been the standoff in the wake of the Legacy Virus' cure, which had thankfully been ended by the X-Men. Cassandra Nova had attempted a massive Sentinel attack on the island as her introduction to the world (foiled by Captain Marvel and the Martian Manhunter of the JLA, thankfully). Luthor had tried to tie Magneto's regime to Al Qaeda a couple years later, but had only succeeded in getting himself impeached. The Master Mold Crusade, Sinestro . . . attack after attack, Genosha still stood when the dust had settled.

But it hadn't stood well.

Now, you can see that Black Adam's attack from a couple months ago had clearly taken its toll. As you emerge in the landing pad near the Royal Gardens, you can see out into the main market square. People are shuffling around, going about their daily lives. The scars upon the cityscape, remnants of horrible lightning blasts or superstrong blows, are desultorily being pieced together by mutant builders. There is a general sense of war-weariness, as though the population has come to accept that these attacks are just things that will inevitably happen. "The Paris of the Southern Hemisphere"? No. Just another budding Fallujah.

You immediately notice an Avengers Quinjet parked in the gardens as well. Entering the main hall, you find that there's another contingent to this little supers party.

Iron Man and Batman are off in a corner, talking in hushed tones. Captain America, the Wasp, Ms. Marvel, and Wonder Woman are huddled around Xavier and Doctor Fate. Magneto is nearer to the center of the room, gesturing pleadingly at Specter, who looks on impassively. Captain Marvel, the Flash, Falcon, Zatanna, Luke Cage, Cyborg, Spider Woman, TWO Green Lanterns . . . it's an Avengers/JLA reunion. And with the dour glances and funerary disposition, it bears no small resemblance to a wake.

Most of the X-Men make their way over to the professor, but not all. Emma makes a beeline over to Iron Man and Batman and insinuates herself into their conversation. Cyclops walks straight over to Magneto and Specter. Wolverine goes over to Luke Cage and Spider Woman's group . . . hadn't you heard something about them forming a new team? Starfire zips over to Cyborg and begins chattering excitedly, adorably tone-deaf as ever.

You can take this time to RP a bit with any characters that strike your fancy. Or we can skip straight to the deliberations. Post as you prefer!

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

Logan was an intimidating presence, but Frederick Allen Broll couldn’t be intimidated. He rose up against his surrogate father-figure in this instance. His voice came out strong and clear, standing out amidst the other conversations. “We give her as long as it takes. We exhaust all other options. She’s not Ogun. She’s not the Joker, or Cassandra Nova, or any of them. It isn’t her fault. It’s the Joker’s fault.”

Fred resumed his silence, looking straight forward once again. Frederick was a killer, but he endeavored to harm only those who well and truly deserved it. This was something else. This was something that was not righteous. Add to that the vision he was given by the Phoenix and Jean… two witches. One red. One… Scarlet. She’d asked him to kill her. Rachel knew, she knew from the visions she’d shared with him. She knew from his confidence.

Kill the Witch.

It was beginning to feel like a driving point. Everything in the world was pushing him towards ending Wanda’s life. And he was going to fight that pull until no option was left.

Arriving at Genosha, he walked quietly through the Gardens and surveyed the land. He had once been filled with excitement and hope for this place. For a brief moment he had wondered if he’d been better helping Magneto than playing superhero. The present was depressing. He felt a weight upon his shoulders… but this wasn’t something a single sword could ever fix. This was the realm of politics, domestic and international – no place for a ronin.

When they came into the hall and saw the myriad of supers present, Ronin watched the others scatter. He reached out and took Rachel by the arm for a moment. Without speaking (who knows who has super hearing in this room), he communicated to her. I don’t like where this is going… I may have an idea for how to solve this without killing anyone. I’m going to need you and Kurt if it’s going to happen. Trust me? He gave her arm a gentle squeeze before moving off towards Xavier, Doctor Fate, and Magneto.

He wasn’t certain how to open the discussion, so instead he stood silently and waited for a natural break in the conversation. “Professor… what can you tell me about what’s happening to Wanda?”

[herodofcows]

Wait what? No wait Fred no don't do that. We're not doing secret plans here. You make the decision yourself without consulting everyone and you're putting a target on Wanda and on yourself . . .

You haven't seen Xavier in a while. He'd come to Genosha after Sinestro's attack on New York. The whole thing had tired him out on a fundamental level, you'd know that. Seeing your life's philosophy and work twisted by that Yellow Lantern psycho to cause the kind of damage he did? You could see the need for a break. Even coming to Genosha had seemed reasonable: even with his relationship with Magneto as complicated as it was, Charles Xavier living in the mutant capital of the world was appropriate. You hadn't exactly kept in touch, but Kitty had given you sporadic updates. Apparently her stories of the celebrated Professor X living a semi-bohemian Genoshan lifestyle had been less than accurate . . .

. . . not just the X-Men, but the Avengers and the JLA too. We're all together for a reason here. This is bigger than any of us, and going ahead unilaterally will just . . .

He looks tired. Honestly, more tired than you've ever seen him. Not despairing, not frustrated, just . . . tired. His eyes look sunken in his head, and he's paler than you'd expect for one having lived on a southern island for nearly a year.

. . . it's a Phoenix thing too, Fred. Seriously, how well do the X-Men deal with one of their own going rogue with an uncontrollable source of power? Wanda has that kind of mojo, and we do NOT want to alarm people further by making these kinds of plays . . .

"Fred," the Professor looks up, shaking your hand once Kitty is done hugging him. Everyone looks somber upon hearing your question. Cap and the Wasp both walk over towards Magneto and Cyclops, just as Specter vanishes in a puff of smoke. Ms. Marvel sighs and purses her lips. Wonder Woman's expression just hardens.

"It's not good, I'm afraid."

He looks over to Magneto, who is currently standing in the middle of the room like a man who's forgotten where he is or why he's there to begin with. With a sigh, Xavier continues, addressing the entire group:

"Wanda has had a very difficult life. I don't believe I appreciated just how difficult it was until I began truly working with her. Between the many misfortunes she has suffered and the extent of the power she wields, she is carrying an unbelievable burden. Dr. Fate and I have been trying to lessen that burden: he by diminishing her power to more manageable levels, and I by giving her the tools she needs to ease the weight of the past and move forward with her life."

. . . I know you like being a loner, and I know playing by the rules makes you feel vulnerable to those that don't, but I am asking you to please DEAL right now. Lay your plan out. Make your case. Don't go over everyone's head because NOBODY will take that well . . .

"I fear it has taken all of our strength to ensure that she has not had any relapses on the level of the Disassembly. If pressed for a solution beyond 'keep trying what we've tried and hope for the best', I fear all of our solutions are bad ones."

"What if we depower her?" Ms. Marvel cuts in. You know her a bit, through Rogue (whom you now see is nodding in agreement), "I know they've done a lot with SPIN tech lately. We could take away her powers, make it so . . ."

"She's a mutant, Carol. She's been defined by that all her life," Psylocke cuts in coldly, "We don't get to simply take that away from her . . ."

"Hold up now, Bets, y'all were sayin' we should kill her earlier-"

"CONSIDER it, yes. But I think she'd rather die as a mutant than live as someone who didn't deserve her own identity."

"That ain't the same thing! Ah ain't defined by mah abilities, and that ain't the only thing-"

"Eh, Anna? Pardonnez-moi," Gambit speaks up, with the look of a man knowing he will be sleeping on the metaphorical couch tonight, "But if we ain't mutants cuz our abilities, then what makes us mutants?"

"I am Amazonian because of of my culture and my heritage," Wonder Woman speaks up, as though daring anyone to back up any disagreement with blades at dawn, "NOT solely through my Zeus-given strength. I would hold the same is true for any mutant as well."

"C'est vrai, peut être, but how much is Amazon culture 'bout how folks're always tellin' ya what ya can 'n' can't do wit' yo' own abilities?"

"At the risk of playing Devil's advocate, wasn't it Voltaire who said 'my right to swing my fist stops at your nose'? Or some such pithy phrase, anyway. I believe we have reached the point where poor Wanda's fist has gone several inches past our collective probosci," Hank pipes in.

"Then why don't we kill everyone who harms innocents, Hank?"

"That's hardly the point . . ."

The discussion begins to heat up among you. You feel Rachel nudge you, both physically and mentally.

You have something to suggest? Now's a pretty good time, wouldn't you say?

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

It had been a while since anyone had really called Fred on his sh**. More than once in the past it’s caused him to grow prickly and defensive. This time, maybe because of who was doing it – and maybe because she 100% had his number – his hackles didn’t raise and he just listened. He shook Xavier’s hand, listened to the bad news he was giving. But mid-way through he turned his head towards Rachel and looked at her as she pointed out very acutely the flaws in going it alone this time…

If I don’t save her… I kill her, he sent back to Rachel. Everyone was discussing these things in terms of what ifs. Frederick knew what was coming. The time was swiftly approaching when he can either be Wanda Maximoff’s savior or her executioner. Rachel had him pegged. He did feel vulnerable. He felt that if he acted swiftly and alone, he could beat anyone who had already decided to kill her to the punch. Chief among them was Wolverine.

Arguments were erupting around them about what makes a mutant a mutant (he had opinions on this, but his mind was elsewhere), who is deserving of death, Voltaire. Frederick could sidestep this. He felt the mirror in his pocket. The synapses in his brain were firing rapidly… and then a little nudge came.

Fred breathed a soft sigh through his nose and gave Rachel the smallest of nods. He’d try it her way. “I have a plan,” he said, his voice just loud enough to break up the din of argument. "You do?!" His sword said audibly. Of course, he would probably get some incredulous looks. If Xavier and Dr. Fate couldn’t do it, what could f***ing Ronin do?

“Wanda’s powers are a threat to this plane of existence… so we should remove her from this plane. I can travel between worlds as long as I have a mirror. There’s a plane adjacent to ours called the Faewyld. It’s an ever-changing mass of imagination, dreams, and thoughts. When a mind steps foot there, it takes shape in accordance with that individual’s psyche. Dream and nightmare become physical beings. I can take Wanda there. Her reality warping powers can do as much damage as they possibly can and the Faewyld will recover endlessly.” He gave a side-glance to Rachel, then to the Professor and Magneto.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GxrKe9z4CCo

“I'll go with her and we can confront her nightmares. I’m not sure it’s going to work. It will be dangerous. But we should take every chance available to us. I’m ready and willing to go alone if I have to.” He wasn’t going to openly ask for volunteers. Fred didn’t want anyone to die following his crazy plan. “Worst case scenario… neither of us come back. This plane is safe and we at least tried to take the high road.”

[herodofcows]

Look at you, playing nice. Rachel sounds legitimately impressed.

You might expect a thoughtful silence at your words. After all, your plan is a good one. It represents the kind of out-of-the-box thinking that is needed right now.

Obviously, it's not that simple. You get a bunch of superheroes in the room together and EVERYONE is going to want a say. But at least said says are mostly positive!

"It COULD work . . ." Zatanna begins thoughtfully, and then semi unnecessarily; "Nice to see you're sacking up on your arcana, Broll. I owe Potence a fruit basket. Or fermented fruit. Wine. Any kind of booze, really . . ."

Doctor Fate interjects, voice booming out.

"We'd need to secure her both within and without. We cannot have her breaking out of there in a moment of madness, and we certainly don't want any invading spirits getting into her head and making things worse."

"I could speak to my brother. Brian has connections out there . . ." Psylocke begins. It's weird, she doesn't seem to hang out with her brother that often.

"So do I. So does Ronin. Biggest issue is the cost: we either set her up somewhere remote without anyone knowing or we ask one of the powers over there for protection."

"That would be costly, wouldn't it? The fae have a reputation for giving nothing for nothing . . ." Batman chimes in (what does HE know about magic stuff, though?)

"But setting her up WITHOUT protection from a local power . . . It's an option?" Captain America interjects, clearly trying to place himself on firm ground.

"Not really. There isn't much in the way of a no-man's land over there. Every demesne is accounted for . . ."

"Really? What about Vanheim?" Iron Man speaks up, "Isn't that pretty much a free territory after Thor's people vanished with Ragnarok?"

"Yeah, but that's awfully close to le Fay, whenever she bothers to come check on the place. And I've heard whispers about Nightmare trying to claim some of that territory for himself. Also how the hell do you know about Vanheim?"

"I'll tell you over dinner sometime."

"Yeah, no thanks, Mr. 15-Years-Sober."

"We might have some luck petitioning Merlin for help, or perhaps calling upon Avalon . . ."

"Merlin is a letch. No way do we want him near Wanda. Avalon . . . eh. Maybe. Fred, did you have anywhere specific in mind?" Zatanna asks, abruptly redirecting the conversation to you.

Yeah, I know, there's a lot of faerie stuff in the Marvel/DC Multiverse (more, since I'm including all Sandman-related things). Feel free to draw on any of the ones you know, or roll for Expertise (Supernatural)!

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

I can play nice, he replied with a slight, sly twist to it.

Everyone chimed in to their extent. Even though Cap didn’t have much to say, Ronin always gave deference to Cap. Zatanna’s little comment was somewhat ironic, considering the extent of Fred’s magical training around Potence.

Cue a montage of Fred Broll attacking supervillains with a sword over and over again. Doctor Freeze, Zoom, Suicide Squad, Sinister Six, Doombots, Jason Todds, Circe, MORE JASON TODDS, MODOKs and Modok.

Yeah, there wasn’t a lot of magical theory being explored.

The comment received a “Tch” from Fred. The input from the others was reasonable… in fact, they all seemed to know more about where he was planning to go than he did. He was forced to realize that lone wolfing it this time would have been a big mistake. His right hand, down by his side, lifted ever so slightly to hook his fingers into Rachel’s, if for no other reason than to acknowledge he knew when he was wrong. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was something.

“I don’t think it’s the right move to bring her into a populated area. Wanda could accidentally cause catastrophe in Avalon. That place has form and structure. It would bounce back eventually, but they’ll be angry. Someone could get hurt.”

He paused for a moment. “Let me put it this way. In Otherworld, a child who believes enough in the monster under his bed will cause that monster to manifest. That’s a child with no power, no magical ability. Think of what’s in Wanda’s mind and what she could manifest.”

Thinking practically, what did he need to make this optimal. “We need remote. We need some kind of buffer against other interested parties. Vanaheim sounds like a mistake, though. We’re going to make noise. La Fey and Nightmare will notice.”

He looked down, thinking about the play here—taking everyone’s views into account. “Oberon. We petition King Oberon to use his wilderness.” The king of the fae was known to Ronin, in this life and in others… in memories stretching back into haze. “Batman’s right. There will be a price to pay. Let me worry about that.” Hero complex hoooo.

“I’d appreciate Brian’s help on this, Betsy,” he said to Psylocke. Captain Britain was damned headquartered in Otherworld, not to mention being another original member of Excalibur.

[herodofcows]

One by one, they come forward. Just as you knew they would.

"I'll be coming with you," Rachel says, stepping forward.

"So will I," Kitty speaks up, nearly simultaneously.

"So will we," Colossus strides forward, arms crossed and a small grin playing on his face.

"Getting the band back together, ja?" Kurt grins, stepping forward himself.

"Um, what band? What am I missing here?" asks Tony "FOMO" Stark.

"I would love to be in a band!" enthuses Starfire, looking kawaii as a motherf***er in her eagerness, "Especially since that band appears to consist of my former Excalibur teammates!"

"Never mind, then . . ."

"I'll let Brian know to expect you, then," Psylocke says, smirking slightly.

"Hold!"

It's Magneto. Of course it's Magneto. Only Magneto, Namor, or Doom would say "hold" as a synonym for "stop".

He sweeps over towards the center of the group, cape swooshing as dramatically as ever. With anyone else it would be vaudevillian, but never with Magneto. Agree or disagree with his politics or methods, the man is a stone cold bad*** and has earned the right to unironic cape-swooshes.

His face, though . . . it's less the mask of dignified rage that you're used to, and more an expression of exhausted desperation. If Charles looks exhausted, Magneto is desperately clinging to the edge of sanity.

"I have heard tell that magical creatures such as those which you describe fear iron . . ."

"Erik . . ." Xavier begins in that patient tone of warning that you know so well.

"Is it true?" the Lord of Genosha pushes, facing you directly.

Yeah, okay. Magneto wants to join your little expedition.

PROBABLY as a way to make up for his time spent as a horrible father.

But also out of fear of entirely losing a chance to bring his daughter back to his side.

You just noticed the faintest of blurs circling in and out of the room. Looks like Quicksilver IS here, but doesn't want to be seen.

Yo where the **** did Logan go?

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

He didn’t want anyone to volunteer but he was glad with who he got. Never in a million years did he expect the original (O.G.) Excalibur to form up again. They were some of his favorite people in the entire world. Despite himself a smile crept onto his lips. “Thank you, guys.” He wasn’t going to try to talk them out of it. He knew he couldn’t. Excalibur was the best.

Fred was getting ready to put this plan into motion when Magneto dramatically halted him. Magneto was good at that. Ronin turned to face his old adversary/headmaster/enemy/friend/and everything in between. Magneto was spot on. Fred himself could attest to the burn of cold iron. “Cold iron. Yes.” Magneto might even know this from practice, unless he hadn’t put two and two together. Surely the master of magnetism wrapped the scrappy swordsman in iron bonds at some point. “If you come, you follow our lead. Deal?”

Fred sympathized with Magneto to a degree… but full on trust in him to do the right thing without serious supervision? Let’s not go that far. At that moment, Fred detected a shimmer. Quicksilver was present—couldn’t say for how long, but he was there and— “Oh sh**, LOGAN!” Fred dropped everything.

“Magneto, where is she? Kurt, I need a teleport, now!”

Now, it might be unfair to assume Logan was unilaterally acting as the executioner. But if Fred believed that was the right call—it’s what he would be doing right now. The one good thing about this situation... Magneto could shut Logan down instantly if they made it in time. If.

[herodofcows]

The room (which had up until now been filled with emoting X-Men, bemused Avengers, and detached JLA members) springs into action. Cyclops and Emma begin barking orders almost instantaneously, sending Psylocke, Rogue, and Remy out onto the grounds to check the exterior while Cyclops leads the rest of the team (minus Kurt) into the building proper.

"Emma, keep us linked! Fred, get to Wanda and get ready to extract her to the Faewyld!" Scott calls before leaving, and then continues over Emma's link: If you need to, get her there now and we'll send the rest of the team to rendezvous with you once you can message us from a secure place!

The Flash zooms out of the room immediately, with Captain Marvel and the Falcon hot on his tail. Captain America sprints for the door into the palace, calling for Luke and Wonder Woman to follow him. Ms. Marvel and Spider Woman both make a beeline for the exterior of the building, shooting upwards along the façade. The Green Lanterns follow shortly after. Cyborg and Iron Man both yell something about thermal scans.

LOGAN, NO!

We have a solution, Wolverine! Don't!

Professor X and Rachel scream into the mindspace in near-unison as the X-Men scatter.

"Fred! Mirror, now!" Zatanna yells, as Fate begins incanting.

It's chaos in multiple directions. But the eye is drawn irresistibly to Magneto.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU MONGREL!"

Magneto never does anything by half measures. At a gesture from the Master of Magnetism, a section of the ceiling is wrenched asunder . . . as are the next dozen ceilings beyond that one. In a few seconds, Wolverine craters into the floor at the feet of Magneto. Only his healing factor preserves him from being reduced to a bloody pulp. From a supine position, Logan snarls ineffectually.

"You thought to kill MY CHILD? IN MY OWN HOUSE???" Magneto roars like a man possessed, bringing Logan up to eye level.

Whoosh

"Father-wait-it's-not-what-"

Zoom

"Maximoff-you-son-of-a-"

The Flash and Quicksilver have both arrived, and are helping absolutely nobody by talking over each other. The other heroes are scrambling back, trying to reverse the momentum of their haste or otherwise proceeding onwards obliviously.

"Eric, stop it! Let him go, NOW!" Charles yells, nay, shrieks. But Magneto seems past listening.

"IT'S TIME SOMEONE PUT YOUR RABID DOG DOWN, CHARLES!"

Wolverine yells as his limbs begin to bend at unnatural angles. Magneto seems past reason, as bad as you've ever seen him. Pietro runs at his father, only to be intercepted by the Flash. Batman begins running towards Magneto, flinging aside metallic batarangs and other ferrous equipment on him.

Amid all of this, Kurt has stayed beside you, ready to teleport you at your word.

"What do you need of me?" he yells at you, somehow contriving to be the calmest one here.

It's faint, but you hear a woman's voice calling from up above. She sounds like she's on the verge of tears.

"Father? What . . . what is happening?"

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

Things went south incredibly quickly. Everyone scattered to find Logan. Scott made his directive clearly and it made sense – for a number of reasons. Regardless of what was about to happen here, an unstable Wanda needed to be removed from the situation. Understood. Fred was still waiting for an answer as to where Wanda actually was. His plan was to have Kurt bamf him to that location then they all three mirrorport into Otherworld. Ronin at least has Kurt on backup going in. Of course, 99% of Fred’s plans fall apart and change on the fly… just like this one.

“Where is she?” He asked again, doing his best to get an answer from someone.

“Where is she?!” His teeth were starting to bare, though his voice didn’t raise much. He was about to shout it when Magneto ripped Logan down from above – through multiple floors of the building. At the moment, Ronin wasn’t too worried for Logan’s safety. If he was trying to kill Wanda, he deserved that. Besides, he’ll live. What was more troubling was when Magneto began to try and actually kill Logan. Ronin quickly calculated a path of attack. Drop Starsoul or cloak it. Get underneath Magneto’s helmet and strike for the throat.

Of course.. this is before he heard a voice calling out from above—a voice that sounded deeply troubled. A voice that belonged to someone that could destroy earth if she became inconsolable. Fighting Magneto right now would be folly. It would inflame the situation further and lead to disaster. Fred needed to be able to do both. He needed to rely on his friends.

“Change of plan, Kurt,” Fred said calmly beneath the shouting. “Bamf to Wolverine and get him far away from here. I’m going to Wanda. See you in Otherworld.” Ronin looked up towards the hole in the ceiling and began to jump upward, putting Jackie Chan to shame as he used his air-running powers to ascend at a blazing pace. To prevent interception, he exhaled and transformed into Shadow Form, moving through whatever was in his way.

Once Ronin had found Wanda, he reverted back into his solid, physical form so as not to frighten her. Despite the chaos below, he spoke calmly. “Wanda, my name is Fred. I’m one of the X-Men. I know you don’t know me, but I’m here to help you.” Kill the witch. “I very much want to help you.” His voice had an almost heart-breaking sincerity to it.

[herodofcows]

You hear the sounds of a struggle below, but thankfully the noise all blends into one without trained senses. It is impossible to, for example, hear Wolverine clang to the floor and not get up. And one could certainly not distinguish the sound of Magneto receiving multiple body blows from the Dark Knight, or Pietro roaring in uncharacteristic rage.

No, it's all noise right now. But Wanda flinches at every single wave of sound.

"Fred . . ." she looks at you with unfocused eyes. Seen up close, you can see that she is constantly sweating. A fever, perhaps? Or nerves?

"Fred . . . Blob? Are you . . . I had a dream about you and you were a mask of skin and you weren't a mutant anymore. Was it really a dream? Is that why you're so skinny?"

One of the ceilings collapses below, and Wanda shudders.

"X-Men . . . Ex-men . . . you are an ex-man. You used to be a man but now you are more. Or maybe less? I don't . . . I can't remember, Fred."

She leans over to you, as though telling you a secret.

"I know my babies are dead. I know my husband is dead. But sometimes I pretend that they're alive and I forget to stop pretending and there they are. So how can I be pretending? But then I remember and I . . . I . . ."

"Hee hee hee heeeee . . . Babies, babies, give me your shrieking truuuue/I'm half-crazy over the blood from youuuu!/It's time for the kids to perish!/Like a delayed miscarriage!/And mothers fear/What Wanda dear/Is about to have to go throuuuuugh!!! Hee hee hee heeeee . . ."

You don't see or hear anything, but for a moment you know that Wanda has just bent reality to include the Joker singing behind you while he slices the sobbing Maximoff children to pieces . . . and then wished it away.

Wanda, likewise, breaks down into silent tears.

"What are they going to do to me, Fred? Are they going to give me to the Joker too?"

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

Ronin was still extremely concerned about what was happening below. Despite the presence of the God Damned Batman, Kurt, Xavier, and the entire presence of three superhero teams in this location, Fred felt that pang of guilt for leaving the fight. He’d feel it so much more intensely later, but for now he had to focus on what was in front of him. A poor, broken woman. Fred stepped in closer to her, speaking quietly in the hopes she could focus on his voice.

She had a moment of fleeting lucidity. Some part of her knows what happened… she knows that her powers are bringing these things into being. Then he hears the song – or does he hear it? He felt the sensation in his blood that the Joker would have provoked. It’s only then that Frederick truly understands the extent of Wanda’s power. What she created was no illusion. It was real. The Joker was being recreated by her tortured mind to plague her further.

As she wept, he brought his hands up to her shoulders very gently – more gently than any would expect from a killer. “No one’s going to give you to the Joker. Wanda, I’m going to take you to a place where he can never follow you. I’ll protect you. I swear it.” He stepped back and held out a hand for her while his other grasped at a mirror.

If she took hold, he’d waste no time and complete the spell to send them across the barrier of worlds, away from the chaos of Genosha… away from people who thought to kill her. Away.

[herodofcows]

FWOOSH

The chaos of Genosha drops away and you emerge in the Faewyld.

As far as locations within Oberon's domain go, this one is fairly picturesque. You stand in a sunlit clearing, a glistening green mat of grass punctuated by blue and yellow flowers. Beyond, the trees sway ominously, shrouded oaks and pines wrapped in shadows that defy a simple dimness of light. Glimpses through the trees show evil faces that quickly resolve themselves into simple patterns and warps in the bark, but in the corner of the eye they remain faces, cruel and twisted faces contemplating butchery and savagery and evil tricks that would leave the hapless wanderer mad or dead . . .

The Faewyld is a land where pretense becomes reality and reality is subject to pretense. In the real world, Schrödinger's cat is simultaneously alive and dead until you open the box. Here, the cat is alive and dead even after you've opened the box and looked inside.

Wanda gasps and looks around the clearing uncertainly. She is not terrified, but she is very confused.

"This place . . ."

"Ho! Travellers!"

As expected. No matter how deserted a part of the Faewyld may appear, there are always spirits watching. It's impossible to be truly lost: Just stand somewhere, and you'll be found. Whether that's a good thing depends entirely on who or what finds you.

A knife-thin man steps from behind a treetrunk. He is built like a guitar string, skinny and almost disproportionately tall, as he cannot possibly have enough features to justify his height. He is dressed in a friar's cassock and wears a wide-brimmed hat, but this means nothing: many of the Faewyld's denizens delight in parodying the sacred.

As with most otherwordly beings trying to look humanoid, the clue is in the face: beneath his hat, you see eyes that are entirely too luminous to belong to any ordinary human. He has irises, but it is impossible to discern any color to them: you merely get the impression of brightness. His smile is the same way: knife-like, with a gleam to it that goes beyond a simple care for dental hygiene. Everything about his appearance suggests a kind of hunger, of wanting; not an unusual or even necessarily deadly trait in this place, but one to watch out for.

"Unless I am greatly mistaken, I see a witch new-minted and a warrior cut of ancient cloth. A portentous pair, upon my word! Why, I'd as leif expect the blood of the one upon the blade of the other! One's a bird-killer, the other kills the birds! And yet I tell a lie through disorder, for the bird-killer has been killed by the birds before while the killer of birds has been hawked herself! Truly, a calumny of falconry, and one far beyond the wit of this poor friar!"

He rings the clearing as he speaks, avoiding the sunlight as he circles the two of you like a shark.

"What brings you to the realm of Oberon, jay-hawks? Have you flown from your masters, or do you come a-hunting? We've game here aplenty, game and games alike! A story for a poor friar, lawks, a story!"

Under the friar's patter, you hear a faint metallic scraping through the woods. It sounds like chain links scraped across a forest floor . . .

This "friar" is not alone.

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

In this place, Ronin’s true nature could not be hidden by glasses or shades of any kind. His entire being, from head to toe, seemed a touch brighter than everything else around him; more colorful, more vibrant. Sometimes, when one would view him in the corners of one’s eye, that person would see a different individual standing there. Sometimes a knight, sometimes a bare-chested barbaric warrior, and sometimes a being of beauty that defied the senses—never to be seen completely, for every time one looks directly at him, it’s still Frederick Allen Broll.

“Home sweet home, right boss?”

As they arrived, he took a brief moment to glance about. It had been years since he’d come here. The birthplace of Starsoul and – in a way of looking at it – his own birthplace… so long ago. He crouched down and slowly ran his fingers across the flower petals below. Beyond the clearing was the Forest, tempered by humankind’s fear of what lurks out in the dark wilderness. It was a very old fear, and it made woods like these dangerous in the Faewyld. It didn’t take him long to ascertain the nature of that danger, either.

This particular fae bore resemblance to knives. In every facet of his being there was hunger and an undercurrent of menace. He wasn’t alone, either… Ronin could hear the sounds of metal being moved in the dark beyond. Fred tensed for a fight. With his right hand, he unsheathed his blade one inch. His left hand opened and was held out a distance from his body, ready to snatch Starsoul from its sheath.

“Stay behind me,” he said quietly to Wanda.

“Our business is our own. You and your friends should let us pass.”

[herodofcows]

The friar stares at you for a moment. His luminous grin switches off abruptly, but his eyes remain the same as ever.

"I see you know the way of things," he says, voice like an icy blade, "But perhaps you require a reminder: you, errant knight of a knight-errant, are in the realm of Oberon. Your business is, by definition, his business, lest your business be business for another."

The chains clank audibly now. You can even catch a glimpse of them slithering through the forest like snakes floating on the air. Wanda stares at them, fascinated.

"So, perhaps the knight-errant will err towards prudence and tell me what business he would have with my master?" the friar asks sweetly.

You know the way this part of the Faewyld works: it's all in the words. How you present yourself, what you say, in what precise order you say it. Truth is truth, but creative renditions of the truth are all the rage. Depending on how you tell the truth here, the realm will be kinder to you . . . or not.

To that end, you see how the monk has set the sentence up: if you acknowledge his premise, then you are a knight-errant refusing to acknowledge the power of the local lord. Therefore, you are in the wrong. And the Faewyld loves to punish those who are in the wrong.

Furthermore . . . it is a minor thing, but perhaps significant: the monk has acknowledged a master, but whether that master is indeed Oberon is something else entirely could be left open for interpretation. This monk might have no power here at all . . . beyond any that he might be able to exert himself, of course.

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

It was difficult to get an accurate read on the Friar of Knives, but Ronin didn’t trust him. The fae structured his sentences in a way that said nothing definitely. Ronin’s eyes narrowed beneath his mirror shades. “Then I will speak to Oberon or his representatives. You are not Oberon. You do not bear his crest or his seal. You are a stranger to me.”

At home here in the realm of the fae, Ronin removed his shades and calmly placed them into his pocket. His multi-colored eyes seemed to glow in this world. “The only thing I’ll tell you is this: you don’t want to be my enemy.”

Fred could only hear warning sirens going off in his mind. This being of hunger and knives was running some kind of game. Fred just couldn’t figure out what it was.

[herodofcows]

The friar glares at you. You get the distinct impression that this is not how he wanted this to go in the slightest. When he speaks, it is not otherworldy or connivingly or with any kind of force beyond simple . . . petulance.

"Fine. I see I am not a sufficient representative of Oberon for you to treat with, OH mighty warrior! I see you are of the Faewyld but do not treat in the games that make life here worth living. So be it! It will damn you in the end!"

He goes stalking into the woods, gesturing angrily at you and Wanda to follow.

"They're coming with us to see the king!" he yowls into the woods, irate as all getout, "You can let them pass! Damn it . . ."

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

Ronin held his right arm out, blocking Wanda’s path if she were somehow inclined to follow the friar. Nothing about what the fae said negated Fred’s prior misgivings. Just because he said he would take Fred and Wanda to Oberon didn’t mean that he would. Neither did it mean he was a representative of Oberon – and at this rate, if the fae said that, Fred wouldn’t believe him. A real representative of Oberon would have used the color of authority. This one was slippery. In fact…

“Go the other way,” Fred said softly to Wanda. He took hold of the woman’s hand and began to cautiously move away, taking care to keep his attention split between the friar and the chains out in the woods. He could have air-walked above the tree cover, but doing so would require him to either carry Wanda (and be forced to fight at disadvantage) or urge her to use her powers – something he absolutely did not want to do. So grounded they would be for now.

“Not a worry, Wanda, boss is the best yojimbo in the biz.”

[herodofcows]

The friar allows you to walk away, and soon you've lost them in the gloom. The woods press closely around you, cutting off all light and sound. The trees around you make the entire world feel muffled, shrouded in a sound-eating darkness filled with conspiring faces and carnivorous intent that seems to stretch for miles and miles and miles. Soon you've lost the entirety of the light and it's just the gray overhanging darkness slipping between the trees alongside you, like some third companion that does not speak but always listens . . .

As you walk, you notice that Wanda's appearance has changed. When she came with you, she was in what amounted to white pajamas. Now, though, her clothes are far more flowing and robe-like, and the tint has gone sanguine. She speaks, and her voice is quiet but far more confident than it was before . . .

"I think," she states with careful enunciation, "that I can see clearly here. Clearer, anyway."

A short pause, then.

"I know a little bit about you. I know you have powers that are mutant and otherworldly, like me. I know you run with Wolverine and Zatanna and the like. You and I have been on opposite sides, but we've had a similar set of lessons. So, as one student to another, I ask you this: If you were in my position, at the head of a power you can scarcely control . . . what would you do?"

Her voice is plaintive, even at a low volume.

The trees are bending in and the quiet is beginning to become oppressive. Something is listening.

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

Even amidst the growing darkness of the woods, Ronin stood out with a splash of color. The X upon his back stood out more than any other, perhaps just as a reflection of who he identified himself as and where his allegiance lied. He walked through this world as one with one foot in and one foot out. Though fae he was in origin, the original incarnation had decided long ago to live among the people of men as one of their own. This world could be beautiful and dangerous in equal measure.

At some point he looked back to Wanda and realized that… she was beginning to resemble her namesake. She spoke with clarity and purpose. It was unclear if she knew that Frederick Allen Broll was a man who possessed two otherworldly aspects. Her question gave him pause. His footsteps stopped and he turned to face her.

Since Ronin had become one with the Phoenix Force, he’d thought about the answer to this question. What happens if his will begins to warp and he becomes a danger to the world? What happens if he becomes the Dark Phoenix? His answer was simple. As in most things, he looked to his code. The same code that frustrated Katie and sometimes seemed irrational was the code that gave clarity to his way forward. It enabled him to be the kind of hero the world needed. If he were to turn into the Dark Phoenix, bushido would demand that he kill himself before the change could be completed.

And it’s exactly what he planned to do if that were ever the case.

“Wanda, what I would do shouldn’t dictate what you should do,” he said quietly. “Years ago I decided to follow the Way of the samurai. It’s a harsh code, but one I’ve committed to.” He offered a small smile. “You haven’t. Right now we’re in a place that is far away from our world. Your powers won’t have as great an effect here. I’m going to stay here with you until we can make you whole.”

“It’s not the answer to your question… but what I want you to do is to get better.”

The woods weren't lost upon him. He knew something was listening out there... but she needed to hear this regardless.

[herodofcows]

Wanda laughs weakly at this, even as the air becomes more and more oppressive.

"That's not an answer, but it's a good non-answer. Bravo. But we haven't left my crimes behind with the world. I killed my husband, and dozens of others. I've opened doors to other universes . . . how do you come back from that?"

~Fred? You there?~

Rachel's thoughtspeak rings out across your mindscape.

~We just took a portal in. We're above a massive stone ravine ringed by forest. Does that sound familiar? The sky is completely clear. We might risk a flyby to find you. I'm not picking up much in the way of thoughts, but I don't know if that means much of anything . . .~

The air is starting to feel really dense now. Not enough to harm, but enough to provide severe discomfort. Wanda doesn't seem to notice, but YOU certainly do.

Sounds like they might be near the border of Oberon's domain, shared to some degree of peacefulness with the Children of the Storm. The Children are a bunch of bratty elemental ponces, but they're not inherently dangerous or aggressive. From the air, you could probably find them pretty easily . . .

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

“I won’t lie. The things you did caused real damage. Your powers, without control, are dangerous… but the things you did were the result of a calculated ploy to break you.” There was a pause and his eyes looked right into Wanda’s, a color as bright as the sun breaking through the clouds. “We will not let him succeed.” His intensity subsided for a moment as he answered her question. How does one come back from this? “I don’t know… but Jean came back from it. You can too.”

A pleasant voice came through his mind and brought a small smile to his face. I’m here, Rach. We’re in a forest of faces. It’s dark here. Not much light above. I’m going to try and get airborn. Maybe we can see each other. As for not sensing thoughts… There are locals nearby—and other things listening.

Rachel could sense Ronin’s discomfort through their mental link, but he did his best not to let it show outwardly.

“I think my friends are here. Come with me, we’ll take a look.” He moved in to pick Wanda up off of her feet. For someone with his level of strength, she was as light as a feather. Ronin then began to spring up, climbing higher and higher to see if he could escape the gloom and see the world around.

[herodofcows]

Ronin moves to pick Wanda up, but she waves him aside.

"No, I . . . I think I can handle myself."

Both she and Ronin go flying up into the canopies, dodging branches and needles and birds (at least, you think they're birds). The silence and darkness become more and more oppressive, until . . .

Krssshh

You emerge into a sunlit sky, leaving the (suddenly) deep green trees behind. Below, the forest stretches for miles before giving way to grassy green plains, rugged hills, and (eventually) purple mountains tipped with a hint of snow. The air is quiet, but for the songs of birds. Nothing seems particularly menacing . . .

"Oh, travelers! A joy, a boon to see!"

And then, abruptly, you are not alone. A white-haired youth in gossamer blue robes floats in front of you. And yet, "floats" is such a poor word: he dances, he capers, he rides the very wind as though it were his birthright. When he speaks, it is with the clarion tones of a woodwind fanfare.

"My name is Ewan Harke, Wind in the Pines
I welcome thee to Old Man Sky's dutchy
And lovely hope I this day doth thee find!
Though, ere my welcome wear, a query here:
Wherefore within the dutchy doest thou stray?
For, with protection, thou hast naught to fear
Yet protection would thine be, wert thou to pay
Fealty and strict rev'rance to the lord
Of this place. I think thou hast not thus done
Else I'd of it have heard, and by my sword
I'd have recalled if there were such a one
As thou, mutant witch, or thou, warrior;
So, thee to me, wherefore doest breach our shore?"

It must be noted that Ewan does not, at present, have a sword. However, being within the Faewyld, this fact does not preclude him from very rapidly acquiring one.

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

Wanda’s flight was true flight. Ronin’s method required more effort, jumping from “platform” to “platform” on his way up. Fortunately he was a very strong and agile mutant, so this did little to diminish the speed at which he could ascend. As soon as they broke free of the trees, Ronin took a deep breath of the fresh air. He remained in a crouched position for a moment before standing and looking around to gain his bearings. He supposed the plains were a good place to get to… possibly the mountains for the work they needed to do. But still… he had to speak with—

Ronin’s face quickly snapped towards Ewan as he appeared. The samurai was on guard, but he made no aggressive movements. More poetry. Fantastic. When Ewan finished, Ronin took two steps forward. He placed his hands at his sides and then bowed politely.

“My name is Frederick Broll, or Ronin if you prefer.” His deep voice projected as he attempted to be on his best behavior. He was in no hurry to make enemies, and this individual seemed far more trustworthy than the friar of knives. “I am a warrior with no master. I am sworn to my cause—and to protect this woman. We are passing through in search of an audience with King Oberon. If we are passing through the realm of Old Man Sky, we will pay him his due respect. If he wishes our presence, he will have it. We mean no harm.”

More locals. If you fly, you have to deal with Old Man Sky. D*mn. Now I'm rhyming.

[herodofcows]

~No flying. Got it. So, are you finding us or are we finding you? We've just run into some monk who's trying to take us to Oberon. We keep telling him to wait until you get here but he's being REALLY persistent. Any advice?~

Ewan arches his eyes at this and looks you over quizzically.

"Ronin now? Thy name was not always so!
Thine eyes, warrior, do betray thy self;
An' thou doest wish the part, onstage I'll go
But staged yet 'tis, as I'm an honest elf
Thou sayest thou'd have treat with Oberon
And yet to Old Man Sky pay thine respects?
As well to try two animate souls on
And so choose why manner thou would'st affect!
Wouldst guard thy charge? Thus Oberon might do
But once in his domain she would not leave
Yet Old Man Sky's as the wind blowing through
And passage thence and hence would be quite free!
Thou flyest 'pon the air, ride'st the wind!
As near this makes thee to me as my kin!"

~Okay Magneto just took off and Starfire is making friends with an inked up mobster guy with chains. I **** you not Fred, this is going down right now. I kinda need a game plan here.~

~I could fight the monk~ Psylocke chimes in cooly. Of course, everything Psylocke does is cool.

~Please don't fight the monk. Just . . . keep an eye on him, okay?~

~Er, I do not think he is a true man of the cloth . . .~ Kurt interjects. Apparently it's a conference call now.

~See? He's not really a monk. Totally doesn't count.~

~I am very confused here . . .~

~Don't attack the monk! Even if he's not really a monk, he's representing something holy, right? Isn't that how it works here?~

~This was a LOT easier when we had Pete Wisdom to explain things.~

Off in the distance, a ways behind Ewan, you can see a red and scarlet figure flying upwards from a nearby cluster of trees. From your perspective, it's hard to see if the ravine is there, but if it is then you've probably just found Magneto . . .

And if not, well, you've got a new set of issues.

Okay, good. The ravine IS there. All good! No worries.

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

It seemed that Ronin was being asked to choose between Oberon or Old Man Sky. Ewan suggested that Oberon would keep a tight watch on Wanda and Excalibur while Old Man Sky would largely let them roam as they pleased. Fred took a moment to think before he responded to Ewan… and as he thought, chaos erupted in the mindscape. Needless to say, Fred was multi-tasking.

“In this life, Ewan, I am Ronin.”

~Is he dressed like a friar? If so, he’s a liar.~ He grimaced immediately after he thought that. DAMMIT. More rhyming. ~All of you hold tight. I might be able to secure room to operate in the air. Try not to pick any fights... and don't follow that friar!~ As for where he was, he opened his mind and allowed the team to experience his senses for a moment, seeing what he saw. The mountains, the plains, the forest below. ~Does that help?~

Back to the decision at hand. Ronin’s small amount of arcane studies had touched upon Old Man Sky. His Children of the Storm were powerful and represented all things of the sky – including storms. This could make them occasionally temperamental, but not necessarily evil. They rarely gave the mortal world trouble and they valued freedom. The monarch himself was aloof and hands-off… which greatly appealed to Ronin’s own chafing under authority. This might actually be the way to go.

“Our task is dangerous, and I wish that no wicked parties interfere. I know of your clan and I regard you well. You make a good case for us to stay in the sky. I have other friends that I wish to join us. May we all go together for an audience with the patriarch? We can discuss the terms of this arrangement. I know he will seek a favor and I will provide that favor.”

"The boss always keeps his word. Always.”

[herodofcows]

~Okay, I think I can work with that. Keep me connected and tell me if you see anything. Kurt? Get above the trees.~

~Ja. One moment . . .~

Over Ewan's shoulder, you see a puff of purple and blue smoke. Apparently they're quite close!

Now that you look, there's also a red-and-purple-clad figure flying towards you. Looks like you've found Magneto . . .

Ewan claps his hands and spins through the air, laughing joyously at your words.

Well said, well done! An audience, thy wish?
Say naught more and I'll do it in a trice:
Thy charge will thank us all at the finish
For we're physick to ev'ry craving vice
Would'st rage, or sloth, or take, or lust? Do so!
I know these things are dear to mortal folk
As they are to us! But more than gusto
For worldly pleasures keeps we Children yoke'd
To allegiance to our sire; there's PEACE
When all that raves and rages is the sky!
One finds from worldly worries sweet release
When sitting still within a great storm's eye
These pleasures we offer thy charge and thee
. . . Should Old Man Sky to thy sojourn agree . . ."

You notice that Wanda is sweating. She hasn't said anything, but you can see that this is an effort for her in one way or another.

But the effort isn't expended in floating. She's working hard not to do more than just float right now.

Talking about no limits on behavior, about peace to be found . . . this sales pitch would seem specifically tailored for you and Wanda. Suspiciously so, in point of fact . . .

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

~Nothing yet. Just keep your eyes open for us. I’ll keep mine open for you.~

There was a lot to juggle here, so Fred was missing some things he might otherwise see or hear. Ewan kept talking in sonnet, which was something else Fred had to parse out to get to the meaning. Ronin’s neutral expression shone with disapproval for a moment with the tactic Ewan was using here. Ronin was certainly not here to indulge in vice. He was not a thief, a lecher, or a layabout. Yeah he drank from time to time, yeah he was covertly a big ball of white hot fury raging against the injustice of the world, yeah he really enjoyed his recent trip to the infirmary. But none of these were what he’d classify as vice.

“We’re not interested in some pleasure palace. We have things to do.”

Peace, though… that’s what he needed to do his work here. They needed to be undisturbed so that Wanda could conjure and summon whatever demons needed to be faced. The entire point of treating with any of the fey nobility was to secure that breathing room. He glanced back towards Wanda and could see moisture beading on her skin. Without asking for her permission he looped his right arm underneath her armpit to help hold her aloft, if need be.

Then he realized something… Ewan’s arrival here was no accident. This was more than safeguarding his turf. Ewan knew (or thought he knew) exactly what would appeal to Ronin and the Scarlett Witch. He wasn’t a border guard… he was the salesman. Ronin looked at the wind rider for a long moment.

“You knew about us before we got here… and you really want us to go with you. What do you know about us? And what are you after?” This wasn't a dealbreaker... but he did want answers. Fred’s look indicated that any BS would be met with disapproval.

[herodofcows]

~Dammit . . . okay, we're gonna try to head over to the edge of the ravine. Hopefully the tree cover won't be so bad. Starfire, leave him alone! He's not a nice man.~

~But he has such fascinating art upon his body! I have never seen people depicted in copulation in such a manner! Do humans often bring bladed weapons into sexual reproduction?~

~Not nearly often enough . . .~

~Betsy, stop being gross. Kori, come on. I'll explain it all later. Fred, don't worry about us. Get Wanda to safety and THEN come pick us up.~

This is the most Kitty has said to you in a while that hasn't involved semi-awkward small talk. Even several months later, things have been a little weird. Maybe things being official with Rachel might . . . help?

For his part, Ewan stiffens for a moment. His eyes flicker over you, much as the friar's had earlier. And, much like the friar, something hardens in his speech when next he opens his mouth.

"I see th'art as canny as a fiend
Who doth upon his supping plate espy
Some holy soul, on Christendom first wean'd
Yet now corrupted by Mephisto's lie
I'll tell you true: all witches here fae-house'd
Though yet their witchdom might but title be
Have power, for witchdom that's fae-espouse'd
Will from words claw into reality
And all know here of Wanda Magda-born
Scarlet in hue, and of chaotic blight
Upon the company to which she'd sworn
Her duty; the mighty Avenger knights
To house her would grant power foes might fear
Not by her use! But by here presence mere!"

Speaking of presence . . . you just noticed a scarlet-and-purple figure flying towards you purposefully. There's no twisting metal nearby to gauge his mood, but if you had to bet? Magneto just MIGHT be a tad nettled right now.

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

~Kori, stranger danger. Fey can be dangerous. I’ll speed things up and come get you all. Stay safe and stay in contact.~ It was nice hearing something, anything from Kitty. Even though he was trying to move on and move forward, she was still his closest friend. The awkward silence had made “emo Fred” worse. Again, there had been much complaining by Starsoul. ~Rachel, I’m a thought away if things go wrong—wait. I have Magneto incoming.~

Who could tell what Magneto would do? He was a man who had been villain, hero, and everything in between. At the time Fred’s fey nature awakened, Magneto had been the headmaster of the school. The man was fluid in his works to the point that he was always a wild card.

Fred did his best to move the negotiations along before the master of magnetism could ferrokinetically throw a monkey wrench into it. Old Man Sky wanted Wanda as a nuclear deterrent. A show of force. Though Ewan had spun his pitch before, Ronin at least believed what was being said.

“Good. Honesty is the fastest way to become my friend… I don’t care if you use her presence to those ends as long as you help safeguard her and do not force her to use her powers. I want a safe place to dp what we need to do. Swear that it will be so and we’ll go with you. But know this: break your word to me.. harm her in any way… take advantage of her ailments in any way… and I will make the sky fall.”

He turned his head to Wanda. “Are you okay with this?”
Post would be longer, but I’m writing from my tablet.

[herodofcows]

~He is not a stranger, Fred! He has told me his name! I have never heard of a name like it before, but it sounds very pleasant! Like a bubbling stream! I am sure this Golgotha person is a pleasant and courteous being!~

~Koriand'r, PLEASE. Magneto, you said? Damn it . . . Plus side, I guess we know you're not too far. Elf, can you give us a bead on Magneto?~

~Ja. But . . . perhaps "elf" might be confusing while here? I would not wish to be confused with the denizens of this place~

~Oh god damn it, he's . . . okay, Fred? He's a nervous wreck right now. I can tell you that for free, even with the helmet. DE-ESCALATE. Don't let his nerves turn this into a thing.~

As all this plays out, Wanda looks hesitatingly to you. Ewan, rather than launch into another sonnet, settles for an enigmatic grin.

"I . . . It's getting hard to focus Can you PLEASE not smile like that?"

Ewans grin drops away as though someone had flicked a switch. Wanda turns back to you and resumes her strained whisper.

"I'll go. But I don't want . . . I want to go alone."

~Oh . . . bollocks to THAT!~

"The fae don't know me like I used to be. But you all do. You can see how broken I am and and and that makes me feel even more broken and I don't want to feel that way anymore, okay? I don't want to be Scarlet Witch here. I don't want to be anything I used to be. No more Scarlet Witch. No more Avengers. No more . . . no more mutants. Okay? Just . . . Wanda."

"Wanda!"

Magneto's voice booms across the remaining distance. He hovers regally in the air, arms tensely crossed. You can see the whites of his eyes even from this distance.

"Who is this . . . person?" he asks impetuously, gesturing at Ewan (who is peering at the Master of Magnetism as though he were a fascinating lab sample), "Is he threatening you?"

[SuperCracker]

Ronin

~Kori! Don’t go near anyone named Golgotha! Bad meaning! Bad! Cat, will you please drag her away.~

Rachel was telling Fred to de-escalate, and he knew that was the best play. But at the same time, he really felt like some escalation after Magneto had tried to rip Logan apart. The ronin watched Magneto on his approach until Wanda spoke to him. Fred turned his head towards her. Bollocks to that was right. He turned to face her, still keeping the woman braced. Fred spoke in a whisper.

“I get it. Wanda, you can be Wanda—and whoever that turns out to be… But this place is dangerous. Note how Ewan here hasn’t sworn his oath yet.” Fred’s multi-colored hues snapped towards the fae for a moment with the color of ice. “I didn’t really know you. I don’t know you. I have no preconceived notions of what you were and what you should be. I don’t care if there’s no more Scarlet Witch. But I need to come with you. I have a plan that might help, and it doesn’t involve me abandoning you.”

WANDA! The Master of Magnetism shouted. Ronin thrust his hand out towards Magneto, palm out in a firm halting gesture. Fred’s eyes stayed on Wanda. “So let me make you a deal. No more Scarlet Witch? No more Ronin.” He lowered his halting hand to his belt and pressed the button. His clothing changed to his casual wear: a white and blue Ramones t-shirt, some jeans and sneakers. “Just Fred.”

A song lyric leaped to mind. Fred would probably kick himself later for saying it.

“We all need someone we can lean on. And if you want to, Wanda… you can lean on me.”

And on that note, de-escalate. He turned his head towards Magneto. “This is Ewan, a representative of Old Man Sky – lord of the Sky in this realm. We’re on his turf, Magneto, and we’re negotiating protection and safety for your daughter. So take it down a notch… or ten.”

[herodofcows]

Not a single one of the team makes any comments about the Bill Withers reference . . . yet. But you just know somebody is going to bring it up later.

~Right, Fred? Here's what you do: Ask an audience with Old Man Sky. Demand a lord's protection for Wanda, BUT don't let him talk you into swearing her as his vassal. Call it asylum, instead: that way she owes him no fealty and she can leave without owing anything if things get tricky. We'll have to perform a favor of some kind, but make SURE it's a favor to do with another realm: we don't want to get sucked into fae politics any further than we have to be.~

. . . that's not Betsy. You don't know how you know, but it's not Betsy.

Wanda glances at you, her father, and Ewan. She doesn't respond to her father, though. Instead, she goes back to whispering with you.

". . . fine. I'll follow your lead for now. But I need you to promise me that you'll put me down if I lose control. It's easier here, but I'm still . . . I'm having a hard time . . ."

You hear two babies bawling in concert over a familiar velvety giggle

". . . for everyone watching at home, here's one of my FAVORITE dead baby jokes . . ."

WHIRRRRRRRR-SPLATTER

"Look! A dead baby!"

Now there is only one baby crying.

"Oh dear, not laughing? I must have told it wrong!"

You hear a power tool of some kind start up. From the news, you know it is/was a power drill.

"Here, I'll tell it again! HahahaaaaHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA . . ."

Ewan, meanwhile, bows stiffly to Magneto.

"Charmed, I'm sure. Well, I'll take thee to my lord;
The witch and the warrior, anyway
Magneto, thou hold'st cold iron untoward
Which, thou know'st, be fatal to the fae
Mayhap thy reasons are beneficent
(For there be sundry fae foes out, and worse)
Therefore I'll play prodigal with my bent
And penalize thee not for metal curse'd
Yet this I'll say: thou shalt not come with us
But stay awhile in my lord's domain
And should we not return in minutes, thus
Wilt thou know thy daughter falsely restrained
And may with with justice thy fury apply;
No thieves have we in court to Old Man Sky!"

Magneto crosses his arms as the double-barreled verbal assaults of you and Ewan. You get the impression that he's lacking in his usual iron-cast (pardon the pun) certainty, and the direction is helping him keep himself constrained. However, he apparently can't resist a bit of posturing: issuing from the folds of his cape, bars of iron begin orbiting his head. At its mere presence, you can feel some part of your soul growling with discomfort: it's like having a dozen ants running around along your spine.

[SuperCracker]

Fred Broll
Told you there was no more Ronin.

Fred doesn’t quote Bill Withers songs. He quotes the one, the only Rolling Stones! Cue Let It Bleed (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNTH9zmleBE)! (Of course, this does nothing to prevent the simmering comments and/or eye rolls.)

~That sounds like a fair plan, Betsy… except that you’re not Betsy. Everyone keep an eye on this person. It’s not Psylocke.~

Fred looks Wanda in the eye after she made her request… then he heard the echoes of her torment. Fred was talented at preventing the emotion from reaching his expression, but all of those psychically connected to him could feel a pulse of anger, like a heart beating in your ear. I’m going to f***ing kill him. He swiftly realized that if he was experiencing this… so was Wanda. And that gave him an idea for how to make things easier. ~Rachel, can you link me to her? Just me… I’m going to share the load.~ Take on someone else’s utter torment? Sure. Why not?

“If everything else has failed and there is no other option… I’ll do it. Until that moment, lay your burdens on me.”

Fred wasn’t looking at Magneto when the iron came out, but he didn’t need to be. Fred’s body tensed and nearly cringed from the mere vicinity of the metal. He looked over to Magneto, trying his best not to get into a shouting match here. “Get rid of that. It’s like bringing Kryptonite to Superman’s home or the Legacy Virus to Genosha.”

He sucked in a breath through his nose and steeled himself against the sensation. “Just trust me. Your daughter does -- and she's not stupid.”

He turned his head to Ewan. “We’re ready to go.”

[herodofcows]

A lot of things start happening at once.

The iron stops circling and returns to the folds of Magneto's cloak, but its presence remains palpable. He scowls at you and points a menacing finger.

"I'll await your return, Ronin. But know this: you have taken responsibility for my daughter. Anything that befalls her will befall you tenfold. And you, creature," he turns to address Ewan, "had best adhere to your word, or I will tear your kingdom asunder. So swears Magneto!"

This is 100% bluster. Magneto is just trying to posture right now. He really has no idea how to handle what's going on.

Ewan, for his part, does not deign to respond. He beckons you and Wanda and you fly up . . . up . . .

But not away. For there is some telepathic business afloat.

Firstly, you immediately feel a link occur between you and Wanda. A clamor of thoughts and images comes roaring into your head, but it all lacks specificity. You're shouldering Wanda's burden, but you're being shielded from the worst of the effects. Wanda looks at you wide-eyed as you fly.

"How did you do that?" she asks wonderingly, in the most normal tone you've heard from her all day.

The obvious response would be "Rachel did it", just like you asked . . .

. . . except it's not Rachel.

A new voice seems to slither into the psychic link. You recognize it faintly as the friar's, but THAT voice had been downright restrained compared to what you feel inside your head now. It's a crackling hiss dripping with venom and tumbling over reedy vocal chords, like the sound of something scaly and sleek dipping into water before its prey can spot it.

~Good day, Mr. Broll! Please forgive the intrusion, but I require a tête-à-tête. I am, against my usual inclinations, dropping the deception that you so cannily pierced when we first met upon the ground. My name is Arkham, and while I am not (thankfully) of the fairy persuasion, I DO represent an old firm that specializes in solving problems . . . and, per client request, creating new ones.~

~I've taken the liberty of intercepting the request for a link that you've sent to the redoubtable Ms. Grey. I believe you'll find MY version to be discrete, convenient, and above all efficacious. Why, it's very nearly a gift of unbridled sanity from my firm to poor Wanda! A sample, if you will, of the sorts of solutions we have to offer you. Free of charge, free of expectation.~

~Yes, I know what you're thinking: 'This impostor tries to deceive me, hijacks my psychic link, cuts off my friends, and expects me to deal with him? Is he insane?' And you'd be right to think so! I am, I fear, being TERRIBLY rude. But if I am forward, it is because we both have so much to lose by passing each other by, and so much to gain from dealing with one another!~

~You see, Mr. Broll, my firm is not of the fae. We are renowned for our deviousness, yes . . . but we will not play the games with meaning or truth that they will attempt to play with you. In our dealings, there are none of the wordplay that I (to my shame) met you with earlier. No tiresome deceptions or verbal sleight of hand. Simply a contract, to be perused at your leisure, and the dealings of honest beings!~

~My firm has . . . a sordid reputation. I cannot deny this. But we continue to thrive because of the quality solutions we offer to prospective clients. We number many powerful figures as satisfied customers, and our commitment to excellence has set us far above all other demiplanes in terms of services offered to mortals in need.~

~In short, all I ask is a moment of your time: you came into this realm seeking the help of Oberon. Now you seek succor among the Children of the Wind. Would you, perhaps, be open to listening to our counter-offer? I have a simple contract all drawn up. No word-smithery, no trickery, no pages upon pages of legalese. An easy agreement, and Wanda will be good as new! I only ask that you peruse our agreement and give it due consideration as you field your options. And, of course, you can keep the filtered psychic link I've provided you! What do you say, Mr. Broll?~

Yeah, this guy is totally from Hell . . .

. . . and he has no interest in hiding the fact. He's not mentioning it because it's poor salesmanship to bring up such a loaded term to a mortal, but if asked he will not deny it.

[SuperCracker]

Fred

Magneto, always one for being dramatic. A lot was going on, things were complicating at a rapid, rapid pace. Best move was to waste no time. He started to ascend when someone other than his team psychic made the connection and more. Dammit, having an unknown party mucking around in their heads was a recipe for disaster.

~Rachel, are you sensing me?~

It was somewhat difficult to clear the cobwebs for a moment, but the filter helped. He instantly recognized the voice in his head, and it didn’t take long for him to determine what ‘firm’ this Arkham worked for… and as soon as Ronin had made that determination, nothing else the demon said mattered.

~Go f*** yourself. I don’t make deals with demons.~ Whatever easy route the demon was offering would not be worth the cost. Hell always seeks the end result of evil. Hell’s deals are never in your best interests. They most often seek someone to forfeit their soul; and even if they aren’t that direct in their demands, they like to set off domino chains of catastrophe. Demons sometimes demand ludicrous things out of spite – something like wiping out a marriage to bring a loved one back. Who would ever take such a deal?

The point was this. Fred could take the easy way out at a terrible cost… or he could take the hard road, suffer, and maybe even fail. He’d take the latter every time with no hesitation—just as Arkham was finding out now.

[herodofcows]

It's a moment before Arkham speaks again. When he does, he sounds . . . amused.

~Ah! Go f*** myself! Did you hear that, Golgotha?~

Another voice rumbles in like an avalanche, crunching over the psychic link like a tank over a field of skulls.

~I did hear it, Arkham.~

~He doesn't seem disposed to deal, does he?~

~I would say not, Arkham. He strikes me as a man after my own heart.~

~Resolute, you mean? Adhering to a warrior's code and possessing a warrior's spirit?~

~Not quite the word I'm looking for, Arkham. If you were to press me, I would have to say . . .~

~Determined? Honorable? Courageous?~

~Stupid, Arkham. He strikes me as stupid.~

~Ahh, I see! Thank you, Golgotha! Well, Mr. Broll, you heard it here first. We'll . . . leave you to your affairs. Enjoy the psychic link!~

~Fred? Fred? You there?~ Rachel's voice cuts back in, sounding worried.

Meanwhile, Ewan has led you into the clouds. The air is frigid and wet as you pass through, wisps of mist clinging gently to you and (perhaps it's your imagination) trying to pull at you. Shapes dart through the mist before you, shapes and visions . . .

Jean extends her hand towards you, pleading.

The Joker laughs as he is crucified.

Rachel burns with a fire too hot to be believed . . .

LITTLE WARRIOR . . .

. . . and then you're through, flying into the demesne of Old Man Sky.

It is shaped of cloud, but it is not of the clouds. The citadel billows through the air like shifting cloth, ramparts swirling into constant reexistence as cyclones shift them into eternal ephemeral being. The gate is an eternal rainstorm, lightning dancing amid the drops like a serpent striking at a thousand foes. The walls are pure hurricane, billowing foul weather about to challenge all comers.

As Ewan approaches, the storm at the gate becomes a light rain. You pass through with Wanda . . . and find yourself in the hall. The hall is nearly normal for the first hundred paces: cloudy floors with cyclonic balustrades and swirling hail ornamentation. But beyond those hundred feet, all you see is Old Man Sky.

He is . . . vast. Indescribable. A sheer height and width that boggles the mind as you gaze into the vastness, the void, the laughing pleasures of the wind and evil steps of lightning and the curdling crack of thunder all singing through a space too large to be believed and your mind struggles to comprehend as best as it can . . .

"You come to the throne of Old Man Sky
With bidding fixed firmly in your eye
I am a lord, ask; For safety? A task
For you, knight; the Norse storm thief must die

"He lived among you, Odinson named
A hammer he bears, lightning he claims
Lost to Ragnarok? Nay, new wind he's caught!
The witch's place for Mjolnir's remains

"Or bring me as hostage one called Storm
She shackles the winds in tyrant form
If she is here brought, behaves as she ought
This likewise secures you welcome warm

"Do this and Wanda will sojourn here
Free from wildness of mine, of fear
We'll draw her madness, replace it with bliss
And return her to you with good cheer"

There is a pause, and you get the impression that the immensity is looking at you askance. Distantly, you hear Wanda's voice at a whisper.

"I don't know about this, Fred . . . I would not ask Storm to abandon her life for this, and Mjolnir . . . could you steal the hammer of Thor itself? Even if you could find it, much less lift it . . . what if I offered my power here? Promised to earn my keep on my own terms? Would that be bad here?"

[SuperCracker]

Fred

~Oh. There are two of you… Sorry. I was inconsiderate. Let me correct that: go f*** yourselves.~ They were capable of getting into his mind, screwing up coordination with Excalibur, and presumably other nefarious acts on top of being agents of the Abyss. They were upgraded to attack on sight. Rachel cut in immediately after his quip.

~Yeah, I’m here. Demons highjacked the frequency. I was asking you to make a mental link between me and Wanda... and they obliged..~ Fred tensed up as he flew through the reaching clouds. His hand even went to his sword at one point, prompting a “Boss?!” from Starsoul. Then the visions started coming. He blinked them away, knowing they weren’t real. ~I’m starting to see things. I’ll hold it together, just… keep an eye on me.~ If he started to lose control in a Phoenix way, that could be very bad.

The palace in the sky was impressive. There was not such a regal place on Earth. That said, it didn’t suddenly turn Fred Broll into Meriadoc Brandybuck swearing his loyalty to the great King Theoden. He was still the same suspicious, prickly anti-authoritarian he’d always been. This would come into play very shortly.

He and Wanda stood before Old Man Sky, the storm incarnate. The name itself belies the truth of this fey’s powerful presence. The phenomena and belief that gave him life was one of the most fundamental… and here he was, offering not only succor and protection, but to utterly cure Wanda’s madness himself.

All he wanted was to steal from Thor or enslave Storm. Got it.

Wanda volunteered to serve the old fey, but that was still unacceptable. He took a breath and used his mental link to speak with Wanda. ~You’re right. I’m not going to do either of those things… and I don’t want you to be an indentured servant. He could turn around and ask you to do what he just asked of me… I won’t tell you what you can and can’t do. But I’m down for the hard way.~

Fred folded his arms, looking out at the great storm. He was an ant in comparison, but defiant all the same. “Tch. Did you think I’d say yes? I know a witch is valuable to you. Her mere presence tips the scales… and you go and ask me to kidnap my own family or dishonor myself in harming one of my world’s greatest heroes? You must not want us here at all. I’ll find someone who’s actually interested.” He turned his back and took a couple of steps away.

[herodofcows]

~Excuse me, WHAT? There are demons nearby?~ Rachel all but shrieks into your mind. ONLY your mind, you notice, because . . .

~Okay, obviously you're going to keep that under your hat, right? Between Kurt and Piotr, I don't know how people would react to hearing that Hell is getting involved on top of EVERYTHING else.~

~Brian is coming your way, Fred. Just keep things copacetic and STALL, and he'll sort out the details.~ Psylocke interjects.

All of this nearly knocked out of your head (along with your head itself) as Old Man Sky reacts to your proposal.

The cyclone comes without warning, spinning out from some incredible distance within the immensity of Old Man Sky. Your instincts, sharp as ever, preserve you from being surprised, but what good is preparedness in the face of overwhelming force?

You find yourself spinning through the air in an uncontrolled fall, wildly careening downwards in the spiral of the cyclone. You shatter through the floor of Old Man Sky's hall, buffeted by wind and lashed by rain as the archfae forces you down towards the ground at sickening speed.

And above it all, Old Man Sky roars:

"Fool! Your impudence earns you my wrath!
Thy haggling false with Old Man Sky hath
Consequences dire! Now Hell's own fire
Will not burn so much as this new path!

"A path of pain, agony, and woe!
Torment will-"

STOP

CRUNCH

. . .

"He's coming to, I think."

"Fred? Fred!"

You sit up gasping, only to be restrained by Colossus.

"Easy, Fred," he croons in that Slavic bass that somehow fails to translate into a good singing voice, "You had quite the fall. Best to give yourself time to recover without any sudden movements, yes?"

Piotr might have a point. You can tell that, were it not for the magical resilience to pain and injury granted by your fae destiny, you would be in a blinding amount of pain right now.

. . . nope, nevermind. Hurts like hell no matter what.

Kitty and Rachel are both hovering over you anxiously. Kurt and Starfire are perched nearby, looking in on you with concern while clearly keeping their eyes peeled for something else. Psylocke gives you a quick look before returning to a defensive stance against . . .

. . . okay, why is there a Christmas-card-worthy cottage in the middle of the Faewyld?

It's the least menacing structure in the world. Ringed by a low stone wall, the building is made of charmingly yellowed wooden plank walls with two square paned windows and a quaintly shingled roof. Flowerboxes along the windows bloom with multicolored flowers, and a bright red door stands ready to welcome any visitors with an apparent open-faced honesty that would make Starfire look like a hardened cynic. Surrounded by the mysterious and deadly woods of the Faewyld, the whole setup is offputtingly charming as s***.

"He's come to? Good job, that. Now, Fred . . ."

Brian Braddock strides into your field of vision a couple seconds behind his voice. You've known Brian for a number of years now, and though you may not always see eye to eye with the man, it's still a comfort to see that he still carries himself as stolidly as ever. The man's very stance suggests castle walls and lights burning against the darkness. You find yourself thinking of him as a "bloke" or a "chap", regardless of the origin of your English. Perhaps it's the magic of the Siege Perilous infusing him with the power that makes him Captain Britain, or perhaps it's because Betsy and Jamie inherited the Braddock family's few devious genes; either way, Brian Braddock is one of the most profoundly open-faced, forthright, and above all English men you've ever met.

"Could you be a brick and explain to me how the bloody hell Wanda Maximoff managed to turn a fae demesne into THAT?" he asks in the tones of a commodore addressing his errant first mate.

Following his gesture, you notice a nearly-overlooked detail of the cottage: above the door, in red curling letters, a charming woodcut sign proclaims the name of the cottage:

House of Maximoff

[SuperCracker]

Fred

Fred had been hoping to provoke a better proposal or just leave. The succeeded at the latter, just not in the way he’d intended. Let’s add “Thrown from the sky by an ancient fae God-King” to the list. Fred sensed the attack coming. The change in air pressure just before all hell breaks loose was enough to warn him. The samurai turned in that direction and tried in vain to brace himself. He was driven down, smashing through the floor of the hall. As he fell he placed his hands down, trying to use his air-walking magic to find some footing or slow down. Instead, it was as if he was smashed through two or three more floors.

“Holy sh*******!”

He heard, or maybe just felt Wanda’s voice. In free-fall, the last thing Fred managed to say is, “Don’t-“

CRUNCH.

He awoke to pain. You see, Fred has no magical ability to shut off or ease pain. He feels it all: every single injury, of which there have been many. He’d been trained to process that pain and move through the injury. It was grit and determination and long hours putting himself through hell to achieve it. Which is to say that when he sat up, it frelling hurt.

Fred grimaced as his body plead with him to stay still. He would have gotten up were it not for Rasputin. One eye opened at first, glancing from one face to another. He was still groggy from whatever massive concussions he might have suffered, so he defaulted to what he would normally tell Rachel and/or Kitty in this situation.

“I’m okay,” he spoke out softly. Liar.

“Boss! Oh man. Just stay still, boss.”

He looked from face to face. Rachel, Kitty, Rasputin, Kurt, Kori, Betsy, and… Brian.

Brian Braddock was a good man and the definition of straight-laced. Fred was loyal to the man, had trusted him with leading Excalibur. Buuut they did disagree on methods and plans from time to time. Ronin’s mysterious loner tactics hadn’t begun with the Misfits, after-all.

Upon hearing Brian’s question, Fred gave Rasputin two pats on the shoulder, silently signaling that he was fine. He wasn’t, but he could get up. Slowly but surely Fred stood up and looked towards the cottage. He stared at the name for a few moments. “…I don’t know. Her powers are immense… and I think she acted to help me.”

“What demense did she do that to?” Did she do that to Old Man Sky’s realm? Such an act would show the real scale of her power. Fred closed his eyes for a moment. He steeled himself, getting control. When his eyes open, the cobwebs had seemingly cleared. “What happened after I fell?”

[herodofcows]

Nearly everyone rolls their eyes at your proclamation that you're okay. Kitty actively scoffs.

"Bit of a conundrum there, mate," Brian responds, turning to face the cottage, "I was flying towards Old Man Sky's demesne, then next thing I know you're falling FAST . . ."

"I attempted to catch you, Fred! But you were very far away and falling very quickly indeed!"

"(Yes, thank you) and then Wanda yells out 'stop' and next thing I know there's a rush of air and the entire sky . . . well, it's hard to describe, but the whole sky gets condensed into this location. Look up at the sky now and you'll see what I mean."

Looking up, you see the sky above. It's mildly cloudy, blue, sunny . . . but just sky. There's no suggestion of anything otherworldly about it: no fae power, no sensation of perceptual intensity corresponding with some greater place in the human psyche occupying physical space. It's just sky.

"I found you here and called the X-Men over. We all gathered here while we waited for you to come to. While we waited, though . . ."

"Magneto came down," Kitty cuts in, "Didn't say a word, just walked right into the cottage. It's been about a minute, and we haven't seen or heard anything. Betsy's been trying to scan for a mental presence but no luck so far."

"I've called the Professor," Rachel says, narrowing her eyes and glaring at the cottage, "He'll try to bring Dr. Fate and see about figuring this out. I think we're a little out of our league."

"Right, that's grand, but we've a bigger issue here," Brian interjects, clearly slightly annoyed at being interrupted, "Your girl just gave a massive demonstration of power and flattened a demesne. Not only that, she's now in a fixed position near the borders of two domains. I don't know about you lot, but I think we should prepare for incoming."

"Perhaps if we attempted to move Wanda in some way . . .?"

"I could try to lift the cottage, but I don't know how far we'd be able to get . . ."

"And we don't know what's on the other side of that door. No deal. Betsy can keep watch on the cottage. The rest of us should fan out, establish a perimeter. Starfire, you and I are air support. Everyone else, cardinal directions and eyes peeled."

Brian zooms up in the air, and people scramble to position.

~Fred~ Rachel whispers in your mind, ~How did she seem? Before this all happened? Was that demon link working?~

[SuperCracker]

Fred

As everyone spoke, Fred opened his other eye and began to test his field of movement. He extended his arms, lifted them, rolled his shoulders, and squatted down once. On the squat he felt an intense burst of pain from his chest. A broken rib or two. He also felt a wetness in his back. Rachel had stitched his knife wound only hours ago - the stitches had ripped completely. Not great, but at least he had an idea of where the most extreme injury was present. The people around him (especially those who rolled their eyes) had known him long enough to watch him take incredibly dramatic injuries and get back up. The actual words: “Why won’t you die?!” have been shouted at him. This was par for the course (as troubling as that could be – see Katie’s concerns).

Fred himself added a brief interruption in response to Kori, “Thank you Kori,” can’t be sour to Kori. When you try, she either no-sells you or gives you the sad eyes.

When prompted by Brian, he looked up into the sky… She’d warped it all. Gods, fae, everything above had been distilled into Wanda’s cottage… and she hadn’t, Fred might be worse than dead. He turned his head towards the cottage. He owed her… but more importantly, he’d given his word to her. The others followed Brian’s lead and began to prepare for an imminent attack. Fred didn’t take a position. He knew where he needed to be.

~She was suddenly clear. It was working. She didn’t want to throw Thor or Storm under the bus.~ He turned towards Rachel before she could take position, reaching out to grasp her wrist and look her in the eyes. ~I told her I would do everything I could.. even if it meant I had to end her life. I have to go in there.~ He didn’t venture into what may happen to him if he enters. There was a very, very good possibility that he would never come back out. ~If…~ I don’t come back… ~I was happy today.~

“Brian!” He shouted. “I’m going inside.” The Way demanded it.

“I’m with ya, boss!”

This would normally be something he just wouldn’t tell his friends.. and just do it. But lately, he’s been given a lot of prodding to be a better team player. Now he’d at least tell them he was about to lone wolf.

With that, he made the fateful walk to the door of the cottage.

[herodofcows]

~Oh my god, you IDIOT, don't . . .~

"Oh, to hell with THAT. Betsy!"

Psylocke springs in front of you, psychic blade in one hand and a real blade in the other.

"Don't be a bloody idiot, Fred," she says softly, even as her shining eyes and languid motions with her blade indicate that a certain part of her actually wouldn't mind if you were to act a bloody idiot.

You've sparred with Psylocke before. She's very good. On some days, you're better. But that was only when sparring with blades. How well would you each stack up if you were going at it with everything you've got? A part of you would like to find out.

"X-Men! Dear X-Men!"

You hear Arkham's call reverberating through the woods cheerfully.

"I'm told a new lodger has just moved into the neighborhood, and I simply MUST say hello!"

CRASH! A copse of trees goes crumbling down half a kilometer to your right.

"My associate is also very enthusiastic!"

"There are large lizards with wings flying this direction!" Starfire calls, pointing outward as her aura flames up, "There is a woman on one of them! She does not have many clothes on!"

"Ach, this sounds like Le Fay," Nightcrawler grumbles, bamfing into a tree to take a look, "Yes, yes it is! Stay sharp WOAH!!!"

Kurt bamfs very rapidly as a hail of arrows streak across his position and fall upon the roof of the house.

"Fred! Stop being an *** and help us!" Kitty yells at you as her section of the forest starts rumbling with growls and light reflected off of old eyes from dark places in the human psyche when people were a tribe of scared pink apes hiding from predators.

~Fred . . . please, come in.~

Behind Betsy, the door goes slightly ajar. You can only see darkness within.

[SuperCracker]

Fred

What his dearest and closest friends saw as idiocy, Fred saw as necessity. This was why he was here. Every second, every moment that passes means it gets worse. And they all knew that Magneto would be unable to fix the problem. It had to be someone. And if it had to be someone, it had to be Fred. She was calling.

Rachel must have known too, deep down inside. A telepath that powerful could have stopped him in his tracks and she didn't.

Despite his certainty, this wasn’t an easy decision. Entering alone meant leaving Excalibur one man down. It meant distributing that danger throughout the rest of the team. It meant he couldn’t be there to protect them. Duty to his word was pit against duty to those he loved. His vows had to win… he had to trust them to hold off the attacks long enough for him to do… whatever it was he was going to do.

First. Deal with Betsy. Fred sank down into his iconic battojutsu stance. His unshaded eyes met hers with a simmering ferocity. Psylocke was a talented swordswoman. His training with her had pushed him to new heights. But he’d never faced her in a real fight- his super-strength and magic against her psychic abilities.

“Betsy, I always knew that one day we would have a proper showdown.” There was a beat before he rushed towards her, coming out with his usual aggressive style. However, as he came near her, Fred’s body dissipated into shadow. He flowed over and through her before reforming at the opening door. He turned towards her. “But today’s not that day.”

He quickly took Starsoul and its sheath and tossed it towards Betsy.

“Boss, what, WAIT!” The sword knew what was happening. “Stop, boss! You can’t go alone!”

“Help them, Starsoul. They need you now. Ja ne.” Fred gave a small, sad smile, looking one last time at everyone... then he vanished into the House of Maximoff.

“BOSS! BOOOOOOSS!”

[herodofcows]

You have a final glimpse of Betsy drawing Starsoul while the treeline behind her begins to quake . . .

And then, blackness.

And then . . .

Lights!

You're in a dim entryway, tastefully carpeted but strewn with shoes and toys. The wood-paneled walls are lined with framed pictures of two adorable children in various adorable-children situations: at a beach, holding balloons, playing in the garden (for there IS a garden, you know this to be true). There's a sense of home to the whole scene, but it is not the worn but familiar feel of a place that you've laid your head before, not the hard-won comfort of a place of personal safety and days grown through. No, this is how home is supposed to be, the way you were promised it would be somewhere down the line: easy, wholesome, a place where all the world's problems can be reduced to simplicity, where joy and laughter permeate and where sadness can never truly touch.

Camera!

Abruptly, you can hear voices, as though they've been switched on. They emanate from down the hall, where you can see the edge of what might be the living room.

". . . us another story, Gran'pa!" pipes an eager child's voice. HIS NAME IS THOMAS

"Yeah! About the war! And the man who tried to kill people 'cuz he thought they weren't as good!" chirps another, nearly indistinguishable from the first. AND HIS NAME IS WILLIAM

"A story of the war, eh?"

Okay, that's Magneto. Definitely. No question about it. But . . . something's off. You've heard Magneto enraged, desolate, triumphant, cold as ice and hot as a sun. He's screamed at you, mocked you, argued with you, tried to recruit you, and scorned you. You've heard just about every possible range of emotion issue from his mouth.

But you've never heard him be jolly before.

"Well, I could tell you a thing or two, I'm sure!" "Jolly" Magneto continues, for all the world sounding as though he's trying to force his vocal chords into a Cary Grant impersonation, "How about the one where they took me out with my family to be SHOT, eh? It was a crisp night in November when the SS found us, tucked away in a barn no bigger than this living room! They marched us right out, yelling all the while as the owners of the barn were interrogated . . ."

His tone is at odds with his words, you notice: the content is dark as hell, but the tone is that one someone spinning an old yarn.

"GRAN'paaaaaaaa!" THOMAS' voice rings out, "Not THAT war! Your war with the HUMANS!"

There's a pause, and then . . .

Action!

. . . the laughter.

It seems to come from the very walls itself, forcing its way into the house with determined glee. There's laughter of all kinds: shrill, deep-bellied, gruff and good-natured . . . but all sharing the same slightly tinny quality and a sepulchral aura, as though the laughter is taken from memories instead of people. It goes on for two seconds, and then seems to be cut off abruptly.

"Now, daaaad," a robotic-sounding voice sounds out in the tones of one catching another in the act, "Are you telling the kids your war stories again?"

"Noooooooo . . ." say THOMAS AND WILLIAM in tones of cherubic innocence.

The laughter sounds out again: varied, heartfelt, tinny, and dead.

". . . nooooooooo!" Magneto responds, in the same tones of cherubic innocence.

This time the laughter goes on for four seconds, and there's a smattering of tinny dead applause.

"Now, boys, how many times have I told you?" the robotic-sounding voice continues, good humor and paternal authority mixing in equal measure, "No more of Grandpa Erik's war stories! They're not appropriate for kids your age!"

"Aww gee, daaaad!" WILLIAM whines.

"Don't you 'aww gee' me, young man! All this talk of Sentinels and Brotherhoods and X-Men . . . a fine example THAT is to a growing boy!"

You don't remember moving your feet, but suddenly you see you're more than halfway down the hallway. The living room is getting closer. Are your feet moving? It's almost impossible to tell . . .

"Oh, Vision," Jolly Magneto croons in a voice that should by rights be accompanied with a pat on the arm, "Don't be such a stick-in-the-mud! It's only natural for red-blooded young boys to want to hear a little about the ol' rough and tumble!"

"Don't you spit on my circuits and tell me it's raining, Erik!" the Vision responds with good (if slightly overblown) humor. Three seconds of laughter, "Thomas and William don't need you filling their heads with those stories! We're at peace now, after all! Sentinels and X-Men . . . why, that's all ancient history now!"

You're RIGHT at the living room. No sound has come from your lips. The universe itself seems indifferent to your motions.

"Why, if I saw an X-Man right now, I'd eat my hat!"

And now, without being quite sure how it happened, you stand blinking in the oddly bright light of the living room. It is an oddly spacious room, with more photos of THOMAS AND WILLIAM lining the wood-paneled walls. The carpeting is tasteful, assorted knicknacks rest on endtables, and a central couch is flanked by two armchairs. If you wanted to photograph the generic middle class American living room, this would be a strong contender for a model.

Magneto, the Vision, and THOMAS AND WILLIAM all turn to look at you with looks of cartoonish surprise on their faces. Magneto is sitting in a leather armchair, with an old-fashioned bourbon glass in his hand. He wears a purple and red sweater vest over a white shirt, with khaki slacks. Standing across the room, the Vision is wearing a suit and tie, and holds a briefcase and a real fedora hat (not a trilby, never a trilby) in his hands. THOMAS AND WILLIAM are dressed in white and black school uniforms.

There's a blink of silence, and then . . .

"Well, I'd better get chewing!"

And then the zombified laughter and applause wash over you like a tidal wave of dead seaweed as the Maximoff family laughs and laughs.

[SuperCracker]

Fred

Frederick felt like he was floating through the hallway. He looked at the pictures on the wall of the children. Her children. He felt the feeling of this place… and it was nothing he recognized as home. Not really. He heard the voices, the voices of the dead acting out a macabre TGIF. He heard Magneto, who had clearly lost himself within whatever this was. The man was the epitome of joyless, and he was in that room, just out of sight, telling tales of the Holocaust as if he were Andy Griffith speaking to Opie. Fred wondered how long he could keep his own mind together within Wanda’s realm.

Then there was the Vision. More ghosts. Fred felt an immediate pang of pain and sorrow. Wanda Maximoff had never stood a chance in life. Magneto was a nightmare of a father who expected his estranged children to be supervillains… and when they weren’t, he practically disowned them. Wanda meets a sentient android (or whatever the Vision was) and falls in love. Gets married. Has children. And bit by bit it’s torn away from her with tragedy piled upon tragedy. The necrotic laughter swept across Fred leaving a feeling of numbness. This wasn’t a sitcom, it was a graveyard.

Without having moved an inch of his own accord, he was there in the living room—a stark contrast to the others. Beaten and bleeding through his Ramones shirt. Fred was the only person present with any hint of reality or edge. Regardless, he was the set-up for the punchline. Fred’s eyes watched the family as they laughed. All this laughter, and all Fred felt was sadness.

“It’s not real,” he said quietly. “These aren’t even your memories of them.” His words didn’t fit the neat narrative of wholesome family entertainment. Such programs don’t deal with the harsh truths of life.

“Cut to commercial. I want to show you something.” The family went silent and still as the living room went dark. Fred looked out at where the audience would be and instead saw his own memories. These were the memories of a small child, viewed from his perspective.

A man and woman with vague, half-formed faces are interacting with the child. It’s warm and loving. The only detail that is clear is the dark pink color of the woman’s lips. She was Fred’s mother, and he can barely remember what she looked like back then. He just remembered what color lipstick she always wore.

“Alright, sweetheart. Mommy and daddy are about to go. Who’s my sweet angel?” The child laughed. “Who’s my precious?” Fred’s mother kissed him again. She sets him down and his parents left the door. It was the last time he’d ever see them alive.

The scene changed and the child was in a strange new place. A small apartment in New York (he used to live in Washington DC). He was quiet, staring at the television screen. The image was hazy, but it was some sort of cartoon on screen. The “camera” pans out to show the apartment, more notably the stressed-out young brown-haired woman standing behind the kitchen counter. She was Aunt Judith, a girl who had just finished her Master’s program and now had to figure out if she could raise her dead sister’s kid. Judith looked stressed out and overwhelmed… but she steeled herself, put on her best happy face, and brought the boy a bowl of instant noodles.

“Hey, kiddo.” She sat down beside him. “It’s time to eat something.”

“…”

“Come on, Freddie… even I can’t mess up ramen.” She smiled, she was trying her best in a very difficult situation. Fred was still silent. He wasn’t spiteful, but he was broken-hearted.

Judith frowned… then she set the bowl on the nearby coffee table. She leaned in and hugged her nephew. No one laughed. No one said anything particularly profound. An aunt just hugged her nephew – her new, unexpected child= and they sat in silence, both hurting, but neither suffering alone.

“That’s family,” the bleeding, adult Fred said. "What were they really like?"

[herodofcows]

"Now, now! None of that!"

The memory turns off like a television screen and you're back in the Maximoff's "living room" . . . with a few changes.

THOMAS AND WILLIAM are still there, now laughing happily and playing with blocks in the middle of the room. The furniture is largely the same, but the layout somehow feels cluttered and haphazard, as though the room had been aligned along odd diagonal axes. The lighting is different too: more pale, flickering in places. Most notably of all, Magneto and the Vision are now both cardboard cutouts of themselves, frozen in stock smiling poses.

And there is Wanda, sitting on the couch in a sensible red dress and an apron, smiling at you over a glass of wine.

"Fred, I invited you over to meet the family, not to be an ol' sourpuss! Why don't you sit down and I'll-"

She continues to talk with expansive gestures, but it's as though the sound has abruptly switched off.

Creeeeaaaak

A door on the other side of the room opens slowly, revealing a dimly-lit bedroom space filled with strewn with what look alarmingly like body parts. There are candles everywhere, mostly unlit but a few flickering with a deep red flame.

Wanda stands in the middle of the room, holding hands with THOMAS AND WILLIAM. The shadows are such that you can't see her face, but her posture is stooped and her shoulders are squared. THOMAS AND WILLIAM are both turned towards her, but their eyes are pointed at you. You can hear them whispering to little phrases over and over again:

"No more Avengers"

"No more Wanda"

"No more Joker"

"No more mutants"

"No more Brotherhood"

"No more X-Men"

"No more Maximoffs"

"No more humans"

All three occupants of the room have glowing yellow eyes. You feel like there's a wind stirring, but you can't quite pin down where it's coming from.

"It's her!"

Leaping into your field of vision, you see the white-skinned man (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=19936911&postcount=680) with diamond eyes lunging towards the door, twin knives held aloft. He shrieks in pain as he tries to cross the door and rebounds into you, leaping away from the doorframe as though it had burned him.

"It is the witch, warrior! The witch in red! Destroy her, warrior! Destroy her before she destroys everything!"

"Fred . . ."

Wanda's voice issues from the doorway like a royal proclamation. The whispers continue, growing ever onward in intensity.

"No more Ronin"

"No more Excalibur"

"No more Justice League"

"No more multiverse"

"I think . . . I think I need to do something," Wanda enunciates carefully, as though speaking to a child.

[SuperCracker]

Fred

This was all Wanda’s creation, and each aspect of it told a part of the story. The lights came back on and everything was off. The men were cardboard cutouts. Maybe, despite her protests, she understood at least part of what Fred had tried to show her was true. She was here, and she was speaking for a moment… until she wasn’t. The door opened, and inside was a room that implied suffering. There she was, the real McCoy. And her inner demons were whispering to her, telling her what things she could do.

Destroy her friends. Herself. Her enemies, her species, humanity and the world as a whole. Fred’s heart began to race. It was the nightmare scenario. “They’re not real, Wanda,” he plead with her. He began to step towards her when the white-skinned man appeared and attempted to attack her. The figure slammed into Fred, inducing blinding pain as his cracked ribs were impacted. Fred staggered back a step, looking at the figure (the one destined to kill him). Fred’s eyes narrowed and he shoved the man aside, crashing through a recliner.

“No! It hasn’t come to that, there’s still a chance!”

The whispers were intensifying, it was coming close to a moment of disaster. Every natural instinct Fred had told him to go in there and kill the Scarlet Witch. He quickly observed the situation and understood… something. The white-skinned man was Fred, in some way. Whether it was the Phoenix or his own subconscious. Wanda was in trouble. She felt that she was under attack… and this was her sickness telling her how to defend herself.

Fred took a deep breath and he silently walked towards the door. If it burned him it burned him. If it hurt it hurt. He’d fight through it all to close the distance to the Scarlet Witch. When he finally stood before her and the specters imploring her to destroy everything… he hugged her. Just like his aunt hugged him long ago. Yes, his instincts told him to kill her. But he's more than his instincts.

“You don’t. These aren’t your children… and what they’re telling you to do will erase the fact that your Thomas and William ever existed.” He swallowed a lump in his throat and tightened his arms. “You're safe right now. I'm actually here. Not a figment, not some psychic projection. I'm here for you, even though the world might end. I’ll be your family, Wanda.”

“Please,” he whispered… because the only alternative was to break her neck.

[herodofcows]

As you enter the room, the whispers get louder and more intense . . . but less distinct. They're just words. Words can harm, break, and kill if you let them, but you're not going to let them. Not this time.

You hold Wanda and she is stiff as a board. The whispers continue, and she does not move.

"KILL HER! KILL THE WITCH!" you hear the white-skinned man howl, but he is far, far away . . .

A moment passes. The world holds its breath. The whispers increase to a fever pitch.

And then you hear The Words. And you understand: Wanda's power was never as complex as people would have you believe.

"No more Scarlet Witch"

Probability fields, chaos magic, mixing the mutant gene with the ambient energies of Mt. Wundagore . . . all rationalizations for a simpler, more devastating conclusion.

"No more Scarlet Witch"

Wanda Maximoff is God. Or, as close to God as anyone is ever going to get.

"No more Scarlet Witch!"

And today, God quit her position.

There is no noise. How can there be? What possible noise could unbecoming make?

All that happens is a single flicker, and just like that . . . you're in the clearing. Excalibur rings you, looking stunned as they stand alongside the foes they had so recently been fighting. The house, the children, the whispers . . . they're all gone.

You have a confused set of impressions:

Rachel swearing as soon as she gets a look at your mind.

Betsy tossing you Starsoul back, its blade stained with black ichor.

Magneto, crumpled on the ground, breathing shallow labored breaths.

Arkham's luminous eyes wide in shock as the demon spits: "You'll PAY for thissss . . ."

Oberon and Morganna Le Fay turning tail and fleeing into the underbrush.

But above all, cradled in your arms, breathing heavy shaking breaths: Wanda.

Not the Scarlet Witch.

Not a mutant.

Not God.

Just . . . Wanda.

"They're gone now . . ." she whispers shakily.

You black out, and the world goes away for a while . . .

[XxWaydeWilsonxX]

A-HA!!!!

Thought you could hide from me, eh?

Well, you COULDN'T!

You were verrrrry clever, Mister SuperCracker. VERRRRY CLEVER! But you made one fatal mistake! It turns out, there was a link to this thread on the front page of the OOC thread THE WHOLE TIME!

Now make like Sub-Zero and GET OVER HERE (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?434915-Reassembly-A-Marvel-DC-Mashup-(Mutants-amp-Masterminds-3E)/page38)!

EDIT: Wait, hold up. Scarlet Witch isn't a mutant anymore???

. . .

I FINALLY HAVE A SHOT!!! CHIKA-CHIKA-YEAAAAAAAAH!!!!

[SuperCracker]

Fred

God or not, Fred was going to keep his word and try everything until the last moment… and despite himself, when the last moment seemed to come, he erred towards mercy. As far as he knew, the next words the Scarlet Witch spoke could be the end for him.

But it wasn’t.

She came up with her own solution. She made her proclamation and the universe was compelled to listen. In an instant, everything was over. He stood, holding the former Goddess within his arms. Without looking he managed to catch Starsoul out of the air with his right hand. The sword handled Fred’s normal response to threats like that, “Yeah? Take a number, ***hole.”

The mutant samurai gave a small smile to the very normal woman in his arms. “Yeah. But we’re still here.” He’d meant every word he’d said to her. Fred couldn’t change the past. He couldn’t bring those children or the Vision back… but he could try for a better future. He would be there. A brother and a friend.

“You did good...” he said, his words trailing before all went black.

Holy sh** he found me!

Alright. I’ll play your weird little Heavy Metal Lord of the Rings sh**.

"Hey, SuperCracker."

Fred... dude.. it's kinda meta to talk to me. What's up?

"I'm using my Shadowrun character."

That's cool with me if it's cool with Wade. He's the GM... I guess?

"Deadpool, I'm using my Shadowrun character. No f**king arguments."