longislandiceme | Entries tagged with oh marvel

It had been an... interesting few weeks. And not really in the good way. First, there had been the funeral, which had sucked, and then somehow he'd been convinced to stick around the mansion for a little while until things settled down. He suspected his presence was mostly for Kitty's benefit, since at sixteen (...seventeen, whatever), he was the closest to her in age and could identify with being the baby of the team and all.

Then there had been that whole thing with Kate Pryde arriving from the future, and stopping Senator Kelly's assassination, and... yeah. At least now he could say he'd met his world's versions of Kitty and Mystique now?

Now, though? Now he was scowling at the pile of luggage at the foot of his bed, helpfully labeled with things like "PERSECUTION COMPLEX", "DADDY ISSUES", "AFRAID OF WHAT I'M CAPABLE OF" (that one, at least, he was willing to own up to) and, because clearly whoever controlled these things had an interesting sense of humor, there was a bag marked "GENE" that happened to be very similar in style to the one that had appeared in his roommate's cabin all the way back in Fandom (although they were for completely different senses of the word).

Scowling, and ignoring dealing with any of it by poking aimlessly at his phone, contemplating making a few calls.

[ooc: I have some time to kill tonight before/after dinner. Open if you want to get/make a call! NFB for distance, natch.]

"You know," Bobby remarked thoughtfully, resisting the urge to nudge at the dessicated skeleton with one booted foot. "Stuff like this is exactly why I can't tell people in Fandom about what I do when I'm not there."

"I thought it had more to do with the fact that you had a secret identity to protect," Laynia countered.

"Actually- it's kind of weird. Most people... don't really seem to mind?" Bobby shrugged. "I mean, nobody's come after me for being a mutant yet. But I think fighting a Nazi made out of bees might be stretching the limits of credibility just a bit." And, yeah, totally giving in to the urge to give the skeleton a kick. "Can we get rid of this thing now? It's really starting to creep me out."

[ooc: NFI, NFB, blah blah blah. there was going to be more but I forgot to type it up.]

Bobby had taken a cab into town, disappointed but not surprised that no one had been at LAX to pick him up when his portal arrived. Probably something came up and the Champions were needed somewhere. It was why he'd come back in between classes, after all.

He stepped out of the elevator onto the top floor of the Champions skyscraper, and- "GAH!"( ... )

[NFB, NFI, swiped from Champions #13.]

One thing Bobby definitely hadn't missed about the whole superhero gig? The insane, revenge-obsessed villains. Like Rampage here, a down-and-out inventor who'd taken to robbing banks to pay off his debts. He'd now apparently fallen in with even worse company, company who'd sent him to alert the Champions that one of their own had been taken.

"And now, Champions!" Rampage was saying, "as soon as I press this button, you shall have your first verbal contact from my employer, direct from-"

Rampage didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, however, because as soon as he pressed the button that he'd been told would activate a radio link, his suit's exoskeleton exploded.

"Is that man mad?" Hercules demanded, even as he grabbed the nearest piece of furniture to shield the others from the blast.

"Seemed to me like he was as stunned as we were," Johnny commented. "You guys need to get out of here! The flames won't bother me, I'll get Rampage's body."

"No," Bobby shook his head. "I can take care of this." A quick blast of ice, and the flames were doused.

"He's still breathing," Johnny reported, moving over to Rampage's body.

"Don't move him, he's probably got internal injuries," Bobby realized. Another thing about being a superhero? You couldn't just leave people to die, even if they had just tried to kill you. "We need to call an ambula-"

"I can take him to the hospital faster," it was apparently Johnny's turn to interrupt, as he scooped up the unconscious criminal. "And when I get back? We're going to track down whoever took Natasha."

A few hours later, in a vault buried near the San Andreas Fault

"You know," Bobby remarked conversationally. "I could be-"

"In the Bahamas right now, I know, I know," Warren rolled his eyes as Hercules once again tried to bust them out. Of the steel box that was buried in solid rock, yes.

"This is all your fault, Warren. 'Come visit', you said. 'It'll be fun', you said. And then you get the brilliant idea to pick up the superheroing gig again..." Bobby ranted. "I hate you."

"You realize every time you bang on that wall you risk triggering an earthquake that could destroy the entire state," the image of a guy whose skull was on fire trying desperately not to facepalm would almost be funny, if not for the whole imminent doom issue.

"I'll take that chance!" Hercules roared, gearing up to launch himself at the wall again... and then suddenly the four of them found themselves back on the Earth's surface.

"Well, that was terribly convenient," Bobby just had had to remark.

[ooc: NFB for distance!]

Bobby had been expecting a nice, relaxing few months in LA. Sure, the Bahamas would've been nice, but like he wasn't going to take shameless advantage of the fact that time seemed to be moving faster back home than it did in Fandom? And besides, Warren had invited him, and the truth was that he missed Warren... well, as much as anyone could miss someone when you were also friends with their alternate-universe version, with whom you went to school.

Apparently, though, fate hadn't gotten the "relaxing vacation" memo. Because instead of hanging out at Worthington's beach house and watching the commemorative DVDs of the Olympics, he ended up sneaking to Mount Olympus alongside Warren, the Black Widow, and Ghost Rider to rescue Hercules and Venus (the latter of which had been introduced to him as Dr Victoria Starr, humanities professor. Bobby had thought she looked awfully familiar, and, well. Now he knew why. He wasn't about to ask Aphrodite about the magic girdle thing, however.)

And now it seemed that all of them- minus Venus- had gone and formed themselves a superhero team. Huh. The Champions of Los Angeles. Kinda had a neat ring to it, really.

Now if Warren would just stop being so damn picky about picking a building for their HQ...

[ooc: NFB for distance, natch.]

Bobby had fully expected to spend the winter break in Fandom. After all, he doubted his friends from Xavier's would feel much like celebrating this year, and as for his parents? They hadn't so much as called in five months, and still thought he was in New York, so... yeah.

But then he'd gotten a phone call from Scott. Which, much like the last call from home, had him hurriedly shoving stuff in a duffel while leaving messages on people's voicemails to let them know that something had come up, again.

Honestly, at this rate he was just gonna start packing every time he saw the mansion's number on the caller ID. It'd save time.

[ooc: eeeestablishy. meant to put this up earlier but got eaten by attempting to clean before relatives descend upon me for the holidays. if you think you got a call, you did.]

Lorna had slept most of the afternoon, and thankfully Hank hadn't been too upset to come home and find a strange girl in his apartment. Of course, he'd only been home long enough to change into his X-Men uniform and head out again. Normally, Bobby would've offered to help him with... whatever it was... but with Lorna here he couldn't just rush off.

"Hey, Bobby?" A freshly-showered Lorna emerged from the bathroom. "I don't suppose you have any- what?" she frowned self-consciously.

"Um," Bobby said intelligently. "It's just- wasn't your hair brown, before?"

"Yeah," Lorna grabbed a strand of her bright green hair. "This is actually my natural color. I just dye it to avoid looks like, well, the one you're giving me now."

"Sorry," Bobby apologized, blushing furiously. He wondered if that meant she was a mutant?

He wouldn't have to wonder much longer, as a group of goons in strange uniforms burst through the door.

"This is the place!" one of them informed his comrades.

Without thinking about the implications of doing so in front of Lorna, Bobby reacted instinctively to the threat and iced up. "The mutant called Iceman is here!" one of the other uniformed goons exclaimed.

"No freaking duh!" Bobby yelled, hurling a ball of ice at the invaders.

"Most impressive," intoned one of them. "But now you will face the full and awesome power of Mesmero!" Suddenly, Bobby felt an incredible pressure inside his skull, and found himself unable to command his body to move.

"Bobby?" Lorna sounded frightened. "What's going on? Do something, please! They're going to kill us."

"Your fear is uncalled for, girl," the one called Mesmero said. "You are not our enemy. We've come not to harm you, but to worship you."

'Worship' apparently consisted of 'grabbing her while she struggled and dragging her out the door'. No matter how hard he tried, Bobby simply could not make himself move to follow them.

[ooc: once again NFB for distance. and holy crap i am almost done. almost!]

The nice (if you could call all your friends being split up across the country 'nice') thing about Agent Duncan handling all the living arrangments meant there was no apartment hunting once Bobby and Hank arrived in San Francisco yesterday. It was even furnished and fully stocked, though lacking a few essentials like soda and Twinkies.

Bobby was walking back to Hank's new apartment with his very important groceries when he saw her: a brunette girl close to his own age, walking down the street as if in a daze of some sort. She stepped out beyond the curb just as a car came careening around the corner. Thinking quickly and making sure no one could see him, Bobby created a small patch of ice under her feet, just enough to throw her off balance so he could reach out and pull her out of the way of traffic.

"Where am I?" she asked, blinking up at him confusedly. "How did I even get here?"

"You're in San Francisco," Bobby supplied helpfully. "You don't remember getting here, um-"

"Lorna. Lorna Dane. And San Francisco's like 1200 miles from my hometown," she rubbed at her temples.

"You look like you need some rest," Bobby said sympathetically. "The place I'm staying's not far from here. I'm sure my friend won't mind if we hang out for a few hours."

"Thanks," she gave him a grateful smile. "And now it's time for me to ask your name."

"Bobby Drake, at your service, ma'am," he grinned back at her before offering his arm. "Come on, it's this way..."

[ooc: NFB for distance!]

Bobby had just gotten back to his room after history class and was psyching himself up for a nice, lazy weekend when his phone rang.

"Scott?" he said as he picked up. Thank god for caller ID. "What's up, man?

"That's not funny, dude.

You're- you're serious, aren't you?" No, that wasn't his voice hitching just a little. Was not. "Yeah, I'll be there. As soon as I can. I just need to, um. Pack, or whatever. I'll be there," he repeated. Oh, now he was babbling. Not a good sign.

He threw a few articles of clothing in a bag, not really noticing or caring what exactly he was packing. Once that was done, he made a few phone calls and scribbled a quick note for Kate: Had to go home. Not sure when I'll be back. Right before the "when", there was a scribbled blotch, as if he'd written "if" and then thought better of it.

Throwing his duffel over his shoulder, he headed off to the causeway.

[ooc: Bobby's gone home for a few days ~~so I can put him through evil canon things~~ while I'm off to visit my parents.]