"It's no use," Iron Fist sighs after a moment. "Something's off. Sorry, Storm." He releases his grip, turning away.

Whether it's him that is the source of the problem or something else, he can't say. Instead, he looks around the room, taking in the group's strange new surroundings.

Seeing that the martial artist with the magic hands was looking to Storm's needs and no dice actions will be used to ease the Mental Stress of others in this scene ;-P, Wolfsbane wanders over to yonder window, to take the electrical mercenary's advice.

Looking out, she took in whatever it was that had disheartened him.

This could be considered a Transition Scene, when dice pool actions are not available. The amount that you heal could be dependent on the amount of interaction with the scene.

"'Off' as opposed to what?" the soldier sneers at Iron Fist, though it's hard to tell who he's facing from under his helmet. "Mask too tight to see where we are?"

"And this is our resident cynic: James Buchanan Barnes, the Anarchy Agent," the Beast says.

"Better to be called a cynic by you than get stabbed in the back once again."

"Mind tellin' us where we are?"
Bishop got back on his feet after giving the pink 'sofa' a nasty look
"No.  Scratch that.  Can you take us back to our own timeline?"

When they landed in the new place, Storm's head was spinning. The transport was disorienting to say the least, the million moloid mob had been brutal, and she was still wracked with pain after the beating she received previous to their transport in the first place. Luckily, Spider-Man was ready with a humorous quip, which brought a smile to Ororo's face.

She was quickly greeted by Wolfsbane, which was both surprising and welcome. Ororo briefly wrapped an arm around the wolf-woman in silent thanks as she considered their predicament.

As Iron Fist approached, the weather goddess nodded. "Yes, please." She stretched her arms over her head so that he could probe her ribcage where much of the damage still lingered. It was one of those times where her everything hurt, but if she could breathe without pain that would be a major step in the right direction.

Unfortunately, it seemed that this place prevented healing. She felt a tingling sensation rather than the relief of magical or mystical healing. Also unfortunate that the sensation went to her head, and Ororo could but stumble over to the couch to gather herself. "No need to apologize, thank you for the attempt."

She listened to the conversation between the Greast and...Buck was it? In the wake of the Green Beast's intoduction, Ororo willed herself back to her feet. "I am Ororo Munroe, also known as Storm. And Henry, I've known you, or a parallel version of you, for a long time."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:30, Fri 12 June 2020.

The Beast freezes before Storm. "S -- Stor -- Ororo?" he stammers. If it was ever possible to see a man's face blanch under a thick layer of fur, it is happening now. "Is -- is it really you?" While he's still motionless and surprised, his eyes well with tears.

Storm walked over to the Greast and placed her right hand on his shoulder as she looked into his eyes. "Yes, it's me, Henry. Storm. Ororo. Though the Hank McCoy I know well is blue. I may not be your Storm. Just a Storm. I'm not sure if we've jumped timelines, universes, or what, but nothing else makes much sense right now. One moment we were fighting bad guys in New York City, the next we were completely unmade into our constituent particles, but our consciousness remained. We reformed in the time and place you found us. We have no idea when, or where, or how, just that we are here and happy to have survived."

Wolfsbane turned back from the 'window'.
She didn't actually believe that it showed a truth:  likely an illusion, or some gimmicky TV screen with this cool looking screensaver.

Now, she was more interested in knowing where that stairway went, so she wandered over to that doorway, and stuck her head through so she could get a look at what was down the steps.

As Wolfsbane makes her way to the other side of the room, walking past the touching reunion of her fellow mutants, the compact, metal skeleton that cut a bloody swath through the Moloids steps out of the shadows. Though the skeleton has been dirtied, it is still shiny, but remarkably quiet for being an entire being made of metal. The skeleton would only have an inch of height on the female mutant but when it gets closer to her it crouches slightly into a pose ready for a fight. Its formidable claws are sheathed but it steps right to Wolfsbane. Though the rest could pass as completely inert if it stopped moving, its eyes are human and alive, wordlessly staring straight into Wolfsbane's soul. When it stops less than a meter away from her, a clicking from its throat makes the noise that its approach did not.

To clarify, please:  is it blocking Rahne’s way?  Is it trying to prevent her from getting to the stairs?

Finally the Beast steps to Storm and embraces her in an enormous hug. She has no choice to fall into his arms. His fur that is not covered by his tactical uniform is more coarse than she may remember. "My goodness, you -- I barely recognized you," he says, taking a breath to curtail a sob. "You've been gone for so long."

The metal skeleton bears down on Wolfsbane but does not touch her and does not block the doorway. If there was flesh on its face, it might be able to produce an expression, but instead the clicking from its throat clicks away.

"Let her go if she wants to go, Logan," the Anarchy Agent says. "It's her funeral. Hopefully."

Wolfsbane paused long enough only to glance at Anarchy Agent.
She wasn't sure why going down the steps would be 'her funeral', but it was the only way she saw out of this room ... and she was curious to at least see what was down there.
After all, these 'alternate heroes' didn't live just in this one room (with one window and one couch), did they?

Wolfsbane was curious to find out.
So turning her attention back to the stairs, she padded over there for a look down.

If if she'd wanted to do so, which she didn't, Storm was in no shape to resist a hug from the Beast. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled Hank tight to her. A feeling of warmth, love, and safety spread through her.

"To me...I just saw you a few days ago. You want to use that big brain of yours to help us piece things together? How long do you think I've been gone? And why is Logan reduced to only adamantium? And where are we?"

Bishop scoffs at the Agent.  'Her funeral'?  'Hopefully'?!?
It was a telltale sign that the 'heroes' who supposedly saved them from the Moloids were a bit dodgy.  He didn't trust them (not that he made a habit of trusting anyone, but still), so on the off-chance that the she-wolf really was going to run into some kind of trouble, he decided he'd have her back.

Walking right past the Agent and the metallic skeleton without giving them a second look, he fell behind Wolfsbane and nodded silently at her.

When Bishop joins Wolfsbane at the doorway to the room, the metal skeleton keeps his eyes on the younger mutant, not acknowledging the taller, less familiar, and considerably more threatening of the two. The Anarchy Agent stays facing the mutants but does not tell the skeleton called Logan to back off.

"I'll help in any way I can, my dear," the Beast says to Storm, finally pulling away from her but staying close. "Certainly I would be overjoyed to provide answers where I can.

"Perhaps the easiest response to your query of where you are is where you were, from where we just came. When you disappeared those years ago, you were in the underground S.H.I.E.L.D. outpost in Brooklyn. It was assumed that the explosion was the demise of you all, but, well, now we finally know what actually happened. Where you reappeared, well, I would assume it would not be a coincidence if it were not the exact-same spot. But in a world so vastly changed, you would not be faulted for surmising you had arrived at a different place entirely.

"And of course I know the exact date when you disappeared. We all do. How long ago it happened, sadly it was more than enough time for the world to go to Hades in a hand-basket."
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:18, Fri 19 June 2020.

Iron Fist eyes the metal skeleton warily as it continues its odd clicking. Could this really be the Wolverine he had once known? Between the frightening appearance of his old acquaintance, and the... inhospitality... of the Anarchy Agent, Iron Fist feels it wise to keep his guard up. Beast's explanation of events is a lot to process, even for someone who's seen as much in his life as Danny Rand, and he's not sure he totally buys it.

"So what exactly happened to the world after we disappeared?" he asks the Beast cautiously.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:27, Sat 20 June 2020.

Wolfsbane continued on, past the clicking skeleton.
When she got to the archway, and the landing beyond, she slowed ... cautiously taking her time to investigate what was down that stairway, carefully moving further, but by bit, too see further down.

..and Bishop followed close behind her, just as interested in finding what this place was about as having her back.

She-Hulk jumps in. "First I want to know why we left our people back there," she says, almost shouting. "If you hadn't snatched us out of there, we all could have fought our way out together."

“Nein, würdest du nicht,” Deadpool says. “Der Mob war bereits bei einem 14W4 und je mehr Sie dagegen gewürfelt haben, desto mehr hätten Sie Chancen gewürfelt und desto mehr hätte der Beobachter mit dem Reinforcements SFX zu seinem Team hinzugefügt. Dann hätte der Wächter die Moloiden bei jedem Angriff negative Unterscheidungen treffen lassen, um den Doom Pool aufzubauen, wahrscheinlich mit mehr Angriffen, wenn sie sich aufgrund des Divide And Conquer SFX abgespalten hätten. Es hätte eine Weile gedauert, bis du genug Würfel bekommen hättest, um dir Stress zu bereiten, aber die Chancen wären gegen dich gewesen und nur schlimmer, je länger du in der Nähe warst. Er hat das nur so eingerichtet, dass jeder etwas zu tun hat und einen Grund in der Geschichte, hierher zu kommen. Sie könnten zurückkommen, aber er hat nicht so weit geplant.”

The Beast tips a hand toward the mercenary, who, while everyone else present is bruised and dirtied, stands in a costume so clean and pristine that the color red seems to vibrate off of it. "You probably already know Deadpool."

"Favolosa!" Deadpool exclaims.

“What language is that?” She-Hulk asks. “What is he talking about?"

The Beast sighs with exasperation. “He’s going through a phase lately where he speaks a different dead language until someone says his name. We usually only say it accidentally anyway. Most of the time we ignore him unless we’re in a fight.”



Wolfbane and Bishop venture out of the room and into the hallway. The metal skeleton follows them with surprising silence, a few paces behind them but within a lunging arm's length. As Logan keeps his eyes tightly on them, his hands close and open, with his claws peeking out of his forearm sheaths with each near-clench!
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:36, Thu 25 June 2020.

Standing on the stairway landing, Wolfsbane sniffs the air.
Then, cautiously, ventures up the steps.

While the fool within the room behind them had intimated that she going this way would lead to ‘her funeral ... hopefully’, she still had to guess that all these heroes didn’t live in that one sparse room there ... and that this was part of some greater ‘headquarters’.

She did, however, continue with great caution.

Like the floors in this house, the stairs are made of thin, cheap wood, but they don't creak as Wolfsbane makes her way up the flight outside of the room where the heroes have gathered.

Logan does not follow, instead watching her from the bottom floor. The clicking from his throat abates for the most part, but his eyes still do not stray from the shape-shifting mutant.

“You’re avoiding the question, kinda-Hank,” She-Hulk says. “Where are we? And why are you like versions of people we know?”

The Beast stands silent and stunned for a moment. “Jennifer,” he says. “We are the people you know. But you’ve been gone.”

“You said that before. As far as we know, we were all there in that bunker then we got transported to somewhere else that -- “

“No, no,” Dr. McCoy interrupts. “Somewhen else. You came back to the same place. But well into the future. Considerably well.”

If it were possible for a gamma-irradiated giantess to go white she does when McCoy mentions a date decades from when the heroes would remember were this morning. “But I can’t say exactly when since time flows differently here in Strange’s house.” The Beast’s voice softens as She-Hulk gains her composure again. “It’s been a while. It’s been a long while.”

Cautious as ever, Wolfsbane proceeded forward, towards the sounds of conversation.
Watcher, as Bishop is with me, could you please link him in with the Private’s you include for me, please?

As she approached the door(?), her ears pricked up to listen for both what was being said, and whether she recognised the voices.

Bishop wasn't much of a conversationalist.  It was part of the military discipline installed in him since he was a young boy; a necessity in the dark future where mutant hunting Sentinels could pick up sounds from over a mile away.
It was a good thing, in this circumstance, as he kept his mouth shut even before Wolfsbane crept up to the door in an attempt to eavesdrop on the conversation on the other side.