The scream caught Magnitude off guard. Though his hands flew to cover his ears, the damage had already been done: the blind teen was now deafened as well. Fortunately, he had other senses to rely on...
Erzherzog Mueller seemed more crippled by Fach's scream than he was. The man was stumbling--his equilibrium no doubt thrown by the sonic assault. There would be no diplomatic way out of this now. They were going to have to fight, and they knew almost nothing about what their opponents' were capable of.
Magnitude grabbed the Drifter and Fach's wrists and began to run. Once they were outside, he took them into the skies.
ISTANBUL, 10PM (NPCs: Ashworth and Fiore)
Pasha Nazif listened to all that Ashworth and Fiore had to say. He called in another of his retinue--Agha Remzi--to begin mobilization of their forces. As the pair told their story to the ruler, others entered and they were introduced to Serasker Peker and Serasker Kunt, the viziers who commanded the Pasha's forces. Once he had conferred with them briefly, he turned his interest back to his guests. "One thing I do not understand is your own world. You do not rule it?"
"No," Ashworth said. "If anything, many of us are treated as second-class citizens. Some of the students who came with us to your world are actually refugees from countries that sought to imprison them because of their abilities."
"Fascinating," the Pasha said. "Why do you not simply rise up and overthrow them? We have the power of gods--should we not be worshiped as them?"
Fiore felt suddenly very uncomfortable with the man. He found himself wondering just how free the non-powered people of the Ottoman Empire truly were...
LONDON, 8PM (Current and Taheka)
Taheka transformed and made his way back into the bag. Slinging it back over his shoulder, Current made his way closer to the fence. He vaulted over it, and then... it felt like he had been stabbed in the brain. It was a flash of a headache that vanished as soon as it had come on him.
He started for the palace when he felt the intense heat from a jet of flame streaming for him. Jumping out of the path, Current looked back. On the other side of the gate was Francine Applebottom, holding out a lighter and commanding a stream of fire to stretch impossibly from it. Ellen was beside her. Behind them, another agent was swelling in size: the man was easily forty feet tall at this point.
They had spotted him. It was literally fight or flight time.
MOSCOW, 10PM (Fluxx and Imago; NPCs: Puck)Lady Woolf - Notice: 1d20+2 20
I cool with Lex auto-saving the initial area attack. I was struggling to think if he had ever actually met Applebottom, but even if he has not, I feel like his involvement with the Arnett's would have given him a glimpse at her picture once or twice. I think he'd at least know her on sight.
One cold January Sunday in 1905, Father Georgy Gapon led a demonstration towards the Winter Palace. Looking for reformation on the ruling class' power and improvements to working conditions, the protestors intend to deliver a petition to Tsar Nicholas II. On the various bridges and entries into the area, the protestors were met by the Imperial Guard, who proceeded to open fire. Though no one knows officially how many lives were claimed that day, the death toll is estimated as close to five-thousand. Unbeknownst to the protestors, the Imperial Family got word of the march the night before, and had relocated to Alexander Palace, enjoying the seclusion almost as much as they did the security it afforded. From that point forward, the Winter Palace was only used for formal receptions.
From what Martin understood of this world's history, the point of divergence occurred in 1914, with the assassination attempt of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. It stood to reason to him that Bloody Sunday likely occurred, but it was doubtful that the Winter Palace was stormed in 1917. The February Revolution had likely never happened here; Alexander Kerensky might have never led the Russian Provisional Government out of the building; surely, the Leningrad Siege had not even been dreamt of in this reality. Martin couldn't tell what odd turns had led to the Tsar returning to the Winter Palace and making it the seat of the Romanov Empire, but staring up at the gilded emblems adorning the gates, his curiosity was piqued.
This time of night, there were hardly any throngs of tourists dotting the landscape of the palace square. There were a few people--mostly guards, he reasoned by their stoic stances and studious gazes. As they observed them, the trio was astonished to see obvious super-human traits among the guard: one man who passed them had translucent skin while another had mandibles; a bald woman walked by with some sort of mohawk that may have been part of a dorsal fin, Fluxx hypothesized. It wasn't too surprising, given what they already knew of this world, but it was slightly jarring to see people with powers in positions of authority.
Fluxx watched them closely. He tried to spot the differences in their uniforms--of the regalia they wore. He noticed the majority wore the same thing; very few had any variation to it. It may have been rank: watching the majority interact with those view, he saw them saluted as they passed.
He thought he had it down--what symbolized lower ranks--but the lack of a crowd was eating at him. Where were all the normal people?
PARIS, 9PM (Shiver; NPCs: Sidestep)We can hold your roll, EO.
Sidestep was silent for a moment, but his jaw worked. "He killed her," he said quickly. "He killed my mom.
"We knew what was coming, but we wanted to get as many people to safety as we could. Me and my mom and Eric and his mom... We got everyone from our school out of there and we got everyone's families. Then we went to the city and started bringing as many people through as we could."
This was hardly news to Violet: those four alone were responsible for saving hundreds of lives in the minutes before Prodigy sacrificed an entire universe to imprison the Armada in an infinite loop. Few had been willing to say it, though. If they mentioned it--if anyone told Abe how much of a hero he had been--they'd just be calling attention to the fact that his mother was the only one who didn't make it back from that rescue mission. She was on the other side, working to save more, when the connection between dimensions was sundered. She was left on the other side with them, locked in a time loop.
"I took Natasha to her family and got all of them out. I got Sarah's family and Remington's and Javier's. My mom was all I had left though, and she didn't make it out. And now, this stupid thing takes us to this stupid world where we meet this woman and she's my mom but she's not my mom, you know? She's too young and she..." He wiped his eyes on the cuff of his sleeve. "She doesn't even know who I am."
TEHRAN, 10:30PM (Greystone and Ursa; NPCs: Gabrielle and Maze)
Ursa transformed and took the shirt. As he inhaled, he watched as Greystone led the way out of the room--already tracking the empress' brother's scent. The others followed him into the hall and Greystone peered around the corner. There were two guards up ahead, flanking a door. The scent led there.
TOKYO, 4AM (NPCs: Benson, Sophie, Stephen)Stealth check, if you will.
Steven took an inventory of what resources were open to him: with the belt and gauntlets, his strength was magnified to levels he had never imagined. The hammer was heavier than it looked and took immense strength to heft. Further, if he threw it, it would hit it's target.
His mind went to Thor--the Marvel Comics character, not the actual god, who... apparently had actually existed, according to Mister Benson. Who knew? In the comics, Thor could fly by throwing his hammer and letting it pull him via the leather loop on it's end. This hammer had no such loop. It was likely a good thing, as throwing it with this much strength might dislocate his shoulder, or worse.
Jack had recovered and was charging back to him, diving towards the ground. Stephen couldn't fly, but the accoutrement he had been given were augmenting his strength to super-human levels. It stood to reason that it had to be more than just his ability to lift something, right?
He began to squat down, praying he was right. "You want a piece of me?" he growled.
"Steven, don't!" the queen said from behind him. "You can't-"
Steven screamed and jumped into the air. He looked down and realized he was easily thirty feet above the shoreline and still gaining altitude. A mad grin flashed over his face. "COME AND GET IT!" he snarled as he pulled back the hammer.
He twisted in the air and slammed the weapon into Jack's face, knocking him off course and to the ground. The impact also threw Steven off his own trajectory--a blessing in disguise, he realized as a inescapable truth hit him: his strength had increased, but his durability had not.
As Steven started to plummet into the bay, something grabbed him. He looked around to find himself hovering the air, as though held up by invisible hands. It took him a moment to realize he was being held by the hands and belt. Magnetism. The queen was using her powers to keep him aloft, he realized.
She was too far out to cry to, but maybe she could see him. With his bolstered strength, he was able to move despite her holding him by both wrists. He pointed forward with the hammer and a moment later he began to propel forward.
The brief briefing Mister Benson had gave him said that Mjolnir could home in on a target. If Jack, for instance, hid behind a wall, the hammer could fly around the wall to attack him. Steven hoped it could do that even without a barrier between himself and his target. He imaged his opponent--pictured where he wanted it to hit--and he let the hammer fly.
Jack was flying to meet the youth. He broke off into a laugh as the hammer fell short of hitting him. "Looks like I already got everything you had!" he roared, belching flames from the side of his mouth.
Steven smirked as he saw the hammer arc back around and rise up over them. He just had to keep Jack's focus on him. This was going to hurt, he realized...
He turned aside and brought his arms up to cross over his face. Baptized in fire, Steven let out a scream. It hurt. It hurt worse than anything he had ever felt, but it was over as soon as it started. Mjolnir connected with the spot in Jack's back right beneath the shoulder blades. Steven couldn't savor the sight of the hammer thrusting him downward--down into the bay. Jack and the hammer shattered through the surface of the otherwise serene waters, but Steven paid none of it any mind.
His focus was entirely on the pain.
!?!