A Merry Marvel Debut

[daretodo]

“So, in this land that time forgot somewhere in Antarctica…what’ve we got to look forward to?”
 
We’re all of us crowded in the Quinjet. Iron Man’s at the wheel and me, Cap, Spider-Woman – no relation to yours truly – and Luke Cage are sitting at the back like some seriously deranged Little League team. Truth be told, I’ve been expecting the question ever since I got off the freaky future phone with Mary Jane. See, it’s Luke here’s first trip to the Savage Land and he’s been sceptical as to its existence ever since it came up on Spider-Woman’s computer.
 
Ah, to be that innocent again.
 
As for me? Well, I’m just hoping we aren’t all gonna to die. Doing my best to chew my nails through my costume, I reply, “All kinds of mutates and dinosaurs and big cheetahs and a surprising amount of acceptable nudity.”
 
“Are you #$%$ing me?”
 
“No,” I say. “But it doesn’t matter – we probably won’t survive the crash.”
 
“What crash?”
 
“You don’t go to the Savage Land without crashing.”
 
Without turning around, Iron Man interjects, “You’ve never been there with me driving.”
 
In spite of his words, my spider-sense is going off the charts. He couldn’t have been less comforting. He’s like the band on the Titanic, right now, that’s how comforting he is. Famous last words to die by. Jeez, I really have made it to the big leagues.
 
“Uh huh…”
 
“Seat belts.”
 
“Yeah, that’ll help.”
 
The jet suddenly pitches forwards and then we’re upside down. Spider-Woman lets out an incoherent shriek -- or was that me? Either way,  the noise is loud enough that I could’ve been singing the ‘Star-Spangled Banner’ at the top of my lungs and the only thing I would’ve heard is the sound of a dying cat in a jet engine. Above the din, I can faintly hear the metallic voice of Iron Man say, “Almost there… Almost there…”
 
And, then, sure enough, we’re there. It all happens so fast that I barely remember it. One second I’m hanging upside down and praying to God I don’t wet my suit.  The next, the five of us are standing outside of the Quinjet and admiring the scenery. And what scenery it is. It’s really a shame about the inevitable death that goes hand-in-hand with being here. It’d make for one heckuva vacation spot.
 
Clapping a very manly hand to my shoulder, ol’ Shell-Head says to me, “See?”
 
“I stand corrected.”
 
Which is entirely the wrong thing to say because that’s right about the time that the Quinjet explodes, the force of the blast sending me and mine flying. I quickly shoot off a web to a nearby tree, pulling myself up and out of the line of fire. Only, as I soon discover, there’s a fundamental flaw to this plan. For whatever reason, I can’t stick the landing and so, my arms wheeling like windmills, I fall a good fifteen feet before the ground decides to break my fall.
 
“My back,” I croak, as I pull my sorry butt out of the foliage. “My poor, poor back.”
 
(Some dialogue comes from New Avengers #4 by Brian Michael Bendis.)

Comments

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

Idiots.

Ever since returning from her little jaunt with Spider-Man, Terry's been working on the shortest fuse. Lord knows she isn't the most patient person, but the idea of the decimation happening because of the Scarlet Witch, because of Quicksilver, and the X-Men had known and kept it from them-- The world had been so much simpler, before.

Arseholes.

They show up, just as planned, and when Terry sees them standing there like they're the bloody mutant police come to take Quicksilver away, it takes everything she has not to yell. Not to scream. Her voice is even as she speaks, because despite it all, Terry knows Scott Summers, and she knows he's better than this. Or he should be.

"Theresa..." he starts, like they're back at Xavier's mansion, like he hasn't told her her da is dead, like they're friends, "now isn't the best time to discuss this. We received a tip that Quicksilver is--"

"We know," Rictor interrupts, "I phoned it in. We figured it was the best way to get you out here so we can...chat." And it'd worked, hadn't it? Just overhearing Layla talk to Scott like they were old pals had cemented it.

"You wanna throw down with us? To protect that silver-headed slimeball?" She hadn't expected much more than that from Wolverine. But that wasn't the point, was it? They'd been lied to. Thousands of mutants out there were lost without their powers...god, how many like Rictor had actually succeeded?

How many deaths did the X-Men, the Avengers, whoever bloody else have on their hands?

"He may be a slimeball. He may be a total evil monster," Terry finds herself saying, anger driving her words. She ignores whatever Quicksilver thinks he has to add to the conversation. "But he didn't pretend to be our friend, and he didn't lie to us. Can you say the same?"

"This is ridiculous," says Colossus, and maybe if these were better circumstances, Terry might be glad to see the big lug alive again. "We don't have to defend our actions. We did what had to be done. And we're going to do that now as well."

She's suddenly not so happy to see him, anymore.

Liars. They'd lied. The bloody X-Men weren't the ones in mutant town, fielding calls from lost souls, they weren't the ones being held bloody captive by psycho ex-mutants, they were safe in that stupid bloody mansion--

"Stand aside--"

Colossus is big, but Terry's lungs are bigger.

She barely hears Scott's warning to Colossus over the scream, and god, it feels bloody good to finally let loose. Let them come into mutant town and try to bully them! They could get first hand @*$&ing taste of what it felt like to be the little person, what it felt like to be thought so little of. Like bloody children who needed to be protected from the big bad wolf.

"Don't you see? This is what Quicksilver wants! To turn us against each other! But if you can't see that for yourselves..." It seems Scott has some life to him, still, and it takes Terry a moment to realize he bloody well means to blast her. She's already gearing up for another scream when Jamie bloody Madrox jumps in front of her, and she has to shield her eyes from the blast as the world goes red for a second...

And when it comes back, there's nothing.

No X-Men. No X-Factor. No Quicksilver.

Just forest. And not the concrete jungle Manhattan thinks it is, but honest to god jungle.

"Scott bloody Summers! If this is yer fault I'll kill ye m'self!"

[daretodo]

As far as your typical jungle sounds go, I can't exactly count an angry Irishwoman cursing out an X-Man among them. And, unless someone's been having too much fun training their pet parrot, that can only mean one thing: we're not alone.

"Hey, guys," I call out, taking a look around for my fellow Avengers, "I think we got company of the non-explosive va-- Guys?"

It's right about now that I notice there's no wreckage. No fire. No Avengers. Well, this can't be good. Thing is, my spider-sense should be tingling right now and all I'm getting is a fat load of nothing. Maybe the blast did more damage than just my back? It'd make sense, I guess. I mean, my vision's a lot blurrier than I remember it being a minute ago.

Figuring I'll have better luck if I find the source of the voice than if I stand around here and wait for Cap to say, 'Avengers Assemble!' I head in the direction of the swearing -- by foot.

That fall really hurt.

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

When she hears the voice, Terry's already started toward it before he's even finished. She thinks she recognizes it, but right now all she wants is to find someone to explain what the bloody hell is going on.

It doesn't take long to find the owner of the voice, but when she does, Terry almost wishes she hadn't. He may not have his fancy new suit on anymore, but after hearing the truth about the Decimation from his own mouth, Terry doesn't want to be anywhere near Spider-Man.

Too bad he's the only one around.

"Spider-Man," she says forcefully, stalking up to him, one accusing hand pointed at the logo on his chest. "What did ye do? So help me God, if ye don't tell me the truth I'll make ye wish ye weren't born!"

[daretodo]

"Hey, hey, hey, there's no need to be accusatory!" I protest, raising both hands in the air in a show of innocence. "I didn't do anything, I swear!"

I'm hoping the truth will really sell the sincerity. After all, as far as I'm concerned, I just survived the latest in Savage Land shenanigans. The last thing on my mind is, 'Gee, I sure hope I run into some X-Men cast-off.'

"And besides, if anyone should be asking the questions, it's me! What are you doing here?"

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

Terry's eyes narrow. If Spider-Man's asking what she's doing here, then he knows where they are.

She lowers her hand, at least.

"What am I doin' here? I was bloody well mindin' me own business in Mutant Town two seconds ago. Where are we?"

[daretodo]

"The only place in the world that has both dinosaurs and a surprising amount of acceptable nudity," I say, eyebrows arching unseen underneath my mask. Lifting one hand, I gesture to our surroundings, even if I'm having more and more trouble actually seeing said surroundings.

"The Savage Land. That land that time forgot. Ringing any bells?"

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

"The Savage Land," Terry replies flatly, making it clear she doesn't believe him - or doesn't want to believe him. "How did I go from New York to the Savage Land?"

Looking around, she knows that he's telling the truth. Or he thinks he's telling the truth. Or there's some bloody good mind projecting going on. None of the X-Men who'd shown up had those sorts of powers, though.

No matter what the answer is, Terry doesn't like it one bit.

[daretodo]

"How the heck should I know?" I ask, scratching the back of my neck. Frowning, I look at a fixed point over her shoulder, willing my eyes to focus on something. Anything. "Teleportation is your guys' M.O. Mostly I just stick to things."

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

"Why don't you stick youself to something useful for once." She isn't in the best of moods, no.

"Wait," she adds before Spider-Man can reply, "aren't there dinosaurs in the Savage Land?"

[daretodo]

"What, am I talking to myself?" I ask -- ostensibly her, but maybe the blurred vision is just a side-effect from being in a coma back at Stark Tower and I really am talking to myself. Stranger things have happened. "I just said there were dinosaurs. Which means we should probably get a move on and stop yakking. C'mon, the Avengers have gotta be around here somewhere."

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

"Excuse me for bein' a little disoriented. Not everyday a girl gets teleported against her will, y'know." Usually they were teleporting because they had to. Or were shifting dimensions.

Avengers. He's got to be joking. What are the Avengers with a civil war on, and why are they flying to the Savage Land when there's enough chaos back home?

"Are ye yankin' my chain?"

[daretodo]

"Why would I be 'yankin' yer chain'?" I ask, air quotes and all, as I try to get some sort of spider-sensery vibe from our surroundings. Still nothing. Either the Savage Land has suddenly become as safe as houses or --

Blurred vision. No spider-sense. I couldn't even stick to the stupid tree!

"You scream, right?" I say, trying to remain calm and not just jump to conclusions. "Have you...screamed since you got here?"

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

Terry gets enough of the Irish jokes from Jamie - she doesn't need them from Spider-Man, especially when she's pissed off as it is. "No," she answers shortly. What kind of question is that? If she'd let out a sonic scream, he would damn well have heard it, no matter where he he was.

Something isn't right, though.

Without bothering to warn Spider-Man, Terry focuses on letting out a sharp burst, aiming for a nearby tree branch -- and it's just a normal, human scream. There's nothing sonic about it.

She just needs to focus, is all, and she tries it again. Still nothing.

"What--" Both hands fly up to her throat and she turns to Spider-Man, panic blooming where she might have kept it together, sudden appearance in the Savage Land or not.

[daretodo]

Aw, crap. Lost in the Savage Land with no powers and no apparent way out of here? It's a good thing I sent my regards to MJ before the Quinjet exploded.

"I don't know," I reply, bringing up my hands to cradle my head. Everything about my posture screams frustrated -- I'm hunched over, nails digging into my scalp through my costume. "I can't see. I thought maybe it was 'cause of the explosion -- a concussion or something. But if you can't scream..."

I drop my hands and assume an appropriately dramatic pose: "We have no powers."

[risesagain]

There was a poem Jean that remembered. It mentioned fire and ice and the end of the world. The exact words escaped her, but here she stood, surrounded by ice and consumed by fire. This was the way that her world was ending, but this time she was going down alone.

It was red. It was warm and cold and so full of a love that she couldn't name. Wrapping her arms around her, she held herself close and looked up, watching the Shi'ar ship approach waiting for the moment. It was so red, so warm, all fire and ice and Jean knew. She just knew what she had to do as she unfolded her arms and pointed, feet rising from the ice as she engulfed both herself and the ship in flames.

There was another poem that Jean remembered about the world ending in a bang or in a whimper and she wasn't whimpering, but there was no bang as the fire and ice consumed here. There was just Phoenix, just as there was Jean Grey and she knew that this was all there had to be.

The white came, like the calm after the storm and Jean fell back, stumbling and falling as she landed. Her feet slipped with no smooth white neverending expanse to hold them and what she noticed first was the smell. It smelled like fire. It was warmer now, the cold clinging to her but it smelled like fire all around her as she fell, and her feet slipped on the soft earth as she landed on her back almost gently in the mud and the leaves.

The fire was still there. It clung to her clothes, but she couldn't worry about it. Jean wasn't certain why it was there at all.

Opening her eyes, Jean saw blue peaking through the arches of green over head, felt her arms like weights next to her and knew that this was not the White Hot Room. This was not where she was meant to be and where her other pieces were.

"I am Jean Grey," she said, the words coming out in a whisper. "Always, but it's too soon. We're not ready."

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

"Faith an' begorrah!"

There's something to be said for a dramatic entrance when it effectively cuts Terry's panic off before it can really blossom. She stares over Spider-Man's shoulder for a few long seconds, trying to connect what her eyes are seeing to what her brain's telling her.

It's Jean Grey. On fire.

Terry doesn't spare a thought after that, just takes her cowl off before dropping to Jean's side and doing her best to smother the flames.

"Girl, ye picked a mighty fine time to be coming back from the dead!"

[daretodo]

"Okay, now I'm hallucinating," I mutter to myself, rushing to Siryn's -- and, consequently, Jean Grey's -- side. I don't have any cowls of my own to help in the firefighting effort, so mostly I just stand around and try to look useful.

"Is anyone else getting a Twilight Zone vibe out of all of this?"

[risesagain]

The flames were gone, the smell of burnt fabric and plants being the only remnants of it. Jean was still there, shivering despite the heat and ignore the fact that she knew, could practically hear the sounds of Phoenix screaming.

"Theresa? Spidey?" she said, teeth chattering slightly as she pushed herself into the seated position. "What are you...this is wrong. I'm not supposed to be here. This isn't the White Hot Room."

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

"Oh hell," Terry says, shaking the cowl out once it looks like Jean is flame free. She'll never get any use out of it again, as scorched as it is.

Those new holes aren't going to stitch themselves.

"It isn't," she agrees, sitting back on her heels. "Spidey here says we've gone and gotten ourselves stuck in the Savage Land."

[daretodo]

"Yeah, but now I'm not so sure," I quickly interject, holding my hands out of in front of me as I begin to pace. "I mean, I at least showed up on a jet. You two just...showed up."

Turning to Jean, I add, "Kudos on the entrance, by the way. Very dramatic. The flames were a nice touch. I've seen more than a couple of people come back to life, now, and I gotta say, that was top notch."

[risesagain]

Jean wasn't in the mood to have banter or anything similar. Teeth still chattering, she furrowed her brow trying to determine where she had gone wrong.

That was the problem, she didn't go wrong, at least not when giving in.

"I wasn't trying to come back to life. We've done that more times than I can count. I was trying to find my pieces." It never crossed Jean's mind that anyone who hadn't been there wouldn't get it. "The flames are from the Shi'ar ship I destroyed, but that was the Artic, we shouldn't be anywhere close to the Savage Lands."

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

"Now he's not sure," Terry mutters as she busies herself getting the cowl around Jean's shoulders. It may be hot wherever they are, but apparently coming back from the dead takes a lot out of a person.

"Your pieces are gonna have to wait until we figure out what the bleedin' hell's going on." She pauses, unsure if asking right away is the polite thing to do or not, but the worry is starting to flood back in. If anyone can fix this, Terry's putting her money on Jean Grey. "Can ye...Jean, can ye read our minds? Or sense if anyone else is around?"

[daretodo]

"Yeah, what she said," I say eagerly, hoping that her powers are working if nobody else's. Chances are they won't, but I've never been against a little positive thinking once in a while.

[risesagain]

If Jean can't, then Phoenix can. They work together, forming two large pieces of a bigger whole and Jean looked at Theresa, then at Spider-Man, trying to pick the mental locks when she already knew where they stored the spare key.

Or at least she used to.

Her concentration dissolved into worry when there was no sound, to rush of thoughts through her head. "I can't..." She closed her eyes trying to reach further, to see if she could a psychic reading from anything. "There's nothing there. It's like a wall or silence. I can't here a thing."

[faithanbegorrah.livejournal.com]

There isn't much Terry can say to that, so she doesn't.

She isn't sure what to do next, but she finds herself standing up and putting some space between them. What the hell is going on?

The collar she wears only covers up the worst of the scarring Feral left behind; she feels the edge of the longest before she realizes she's got a hand up to her throat again.

God above, not again.