5403/What Price One Soul: Latveria

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What Price One Soul: Latveria
Date of Scene: 01 March 2021
Location: Latveria, 15 miles from Doom Castle
Synopsis: A bunch of magically transformed humans turned into lawn ornaments are rescued by 'Doom'. The soul Hellboy sought wasnt there, but he did find a clue.
Cast of Characters: Hellboy, Steve Rogers, Thor, Meggan Puceanu

Hellboy has posed:
The rejection letter looked VERY impressive as all formal diplomatic notices from Latveria; the holographic seal combined with the natively grown incredibly rich vellum paper was a testament (as were many things) to the wealth, prosperity and 'freedom' of Latveria but it basically said what all the OTHER papers had said for the last 40 years, "No." Only this one was a little different, because it said, "No, really, No. Doom himself has reviewed your case, thanks for helping against the lunatic in the past, you are not welcome, we checked out the site, what you are looking for isnt there. Go away. Do not ask again or else Grrrr." Granted the speechifying by actual doom would be better, but it WAS from Doom himself and it was a categorical, undeniable NO.

This was in the same circular file as the small stack of official SHIELD (and every other covert agency he could think of) that also said "NO" since the soul in question was possibly not even still stored in said container and even if it was, they likely were not aware of the passage of time and "humane to leave them as they are" blah blah blah blah blah.

BOOM! Hellboy blew up the trashcan with the paperwork in it and quietly sent work to a few friends about whether or not they would help him sneak into Latveria and check. So here he was, trundling through the Latverian tunnel network, left over from WWII when they had fought the Nazis, known only to a few people, including Doom but also Hellboy trundling towards the site that the damn Limner had left behind.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The quinjet beeped a soft alarm, letting the pilot know that they were twenty miles out from Latverian airspace. "Sir, we're getting near," he says, the SHIELD agent turning and looking over his shoulder to where Captain America and Thor are standing in the back of the plane.

"I appreciate you coming along Thor. If we can avoid an international incident it would be for the best," Steve says as he pulls on one of his gloves. "I'm not entirely sure the full story of why Hellboy is so keen to get to this site. But we need to get to him and convince him to get out. before he's detected. The last thing SHIELD needs is Doom claiming the agency invaded them."

The pilot looks back over his shoulder again. "Sir, our stealth technology may not be able to evade Latverian defenses. They are pretty high tech, sir."

Cap nods to the man and puts on his helmet. "That's why we're not taking the quinjet in," he says. Cap moves to a lever and pulls it, the back of the jet opening up. "Brought alternate transportation, much tougher to spot." Steve gestures towards the Asgardian God of Thunder. Steve's shield is removed from his back and he taps it. "The vibranium should do a good job absorbing their radar. Feel like giving a teammate a lift, Thor?" He asks.

Thor has posed:
Just because Thor is mostly known for thunder, lighting, tornados, hitting things with hammers, and shouting declarative sentences doesn't mean there's any particular rule against taking him on stealth missions. If Captain America needs backup in Latveria, he's going to need to bring in the big guns, and as you can see clearly in Thor's sleeveless tunic, there are few guns bigger than these.

Bigger, and louder, but disregard that second part, it's definitely not going to come into play today.

His big concession to stealth is, of course, a close-cropped haircut that makes him nearly unrecognizable and has only merited cover features in two of Midgard's celebrity magazines (so far). But after Cap impressed upon his Asgardian friend the importance of subtlety on this mission, Thor has also covered up his big billowing red cape with a big billowing green cloak, which if you think about it, is PERFECT camouflage for Latveria.

The pair of cape-cloak things billow even more than before in the forceful wind when the back hatch of the Quinjet opens, but Thor's booming voice can still be easily heard over the rushing air. "But of course, Captain!" he says with his trademark enthusiasm. Holding Mjolnir loosely in his left hand, he swings it in an accelerating circle and offers Cap his right forearm. "Hold fast!" he calls, before finally letting the hammer fly, launching the pair of Avengers out of the back of the jet at a breakneck pace. They swoop through buffeting winds, dragged by the physics-defying momentum of Mjolnir, and Thor only now thinks to glance at his flying companion and ask, "So! Where shall we land?"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The well-mannered Englishwoman along on this particular adventure probably has a small, precise SHIELD writeup that begins and ends with a lot of question marks. Meggan doesn't look particularly scary or really much competent compared to Asgardian gods, the real American hero, or a demon hunter. Looks might be deceiving, and in fact very much are. Her record is...useful, though. Its most recent can be filed under the auspices of James Rhodes and other assorted Avengers dealing with a large, troublesome tentacle monster off Honolulu. The mystic community has a few things to say that make her useful, gleaned from a cultist or summoned demon babbling on about never, ever letting her near the infernal realms on pain of eternal death has an advantage too. Something about madly upsetting hell lords by improving the place with hope and happiness.

Need a soul? She's one of the few to escape mostly intact. Need someone in Latveria? Being Romani also helps given certain lineages involving one Victor von Doom.

She shows up with Hellboy to the meeting point for said tunnel, another forgettable feature in the landscape that tells a host of stories she'd rather not look too deeply into. Otherwise she is singularly beaming the whole time and accepting the companionship for what it is: thrilling! Because famous people with storied histories are exactly amazing to be around, though she keeps it to a dull glow. No reason for drawing attention. Well, yet.

Hellboy has posed:
Hellboy is pleased for any back up at all. Granted, if he had known just how HEAVY the retrieval crew was going to be he might have prepared a bit differently but it wasnt like he hadnt...er...borrowed...a few ...useful...artifacts in case well, you know...Doom.

He climbs up one of the many tunnel exits, ignores the automatic machine gun fire from the booby trap to keep unauthorized people from entering the tunnels as it bounces off his hide as he opens the tunnel exit and waves to Meggan. "Hey, glad you are here," he beams clearly pleased at help, "There is no way of knowing if the Limner's defenses are still active and having someone with your abilities as backup will be handy. It's half a mile from here in the woods."

He keeps an eye out for patrolling drones, fully expecting to to have to fight ...well...something...but he'd rather wait as long as possible. Assuming she is up for it, they go towards the woods and vanish into thick under growth rather quickly.

Doom has anticipate a lot of defenses and contingencies but a flying Asgardian with vibranium cloaking wasnt one of them, so needless to say, they do not yet notice the two of them though the astonished shephard in the middle of nowhere rubbing his eyes trying to decide if he believes what he just saw might constitute low tech radar.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The wind whistles loudly around Cap's ears as Thor literally throws the two of them through the air behind his hammer. "I studied what I could of their defenses. Have an idea where they might try to get in," he says to Thor, their comms helping defeat the roar of the wind.

Steve studies the landscape below, comparing it in his head to the satellite images he'd studied, expecting to be faced with navigating from just such a position. He points Thor to a general area. As they fly overhead, he says, "I might have just seen a few flashes from gunfire. Machine guns maybe. I hope they aren't already on to him."

Steve points out the location. "There are some woods nearby where we might be able to land without being seen," he calls to Thor. He glances over at Mjolnir. "Your hammer takes the whole 'green tranportation' to a new level. Anywhere the rest of us can pick one of those up," he jokes.

Thor has posed:
Thor screams through the air (but, like, a quiet, stealthy scream) with both capes snapping behind him. Shepherds watching their flocks by night are welcome to panic at their leisure: this is one divine apparition that isn't going to stop and encourage them not to be afraid. Answering Steve's question, he starts, "I'm afraid Mjolnir is one of a--" Then he stops, for some reason, and says in a far less jovial tone, "I don't think they make them anymore."

He angles for the copse of trees Cap has indicated, bypassing the muzzle flashes for now. To land, he simply lets go of Mjolnir, which zips away and then up into the sky with a metallic hum, and floats to the ground, his capes filling with air like a big, unwieldy, two-ply parachute. Once they're on solid ground, he holds up a hand and the hammer zings back into his solid grip with a gentle thwack.

"Alright then," he asks in a stagey whisper, gathering his cloak around him and trying to flap it into a concealing position over any obtruding red. "Toward the gunfire?" That's typically his approach. Thick Asgardian skin, after all.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Civilian gear for the blonde Englishwoman probably helps her blend in to the Latverian countryside quite well. A somewhat battered oversized coat and trainers on their last days enable rambling and climbing with the best of them. She hastens through the creepy tunnel stained in failed hopes, fear, and graffiti like a bad 80s music video, trying her best to not shove past the large red man in her haste to get away right about now. Someone doesn't want her knock-off Eastern Bloc MTV right now, thank you.

Somehow the boobytrapped forest is that much nicer, the rolling hills or green fields contained beyond a sea of concrete superior in all respects. Her shoulders drop, tension tilted away. "I wouldn't expect quite so a bill for property damage," she says, all bright and mildly cheeky. Turning to the dark woodland beyond, her gaze unfocuses a bit.

A moment later, she kneels, putting her hand to the soil in a gentle brush of introduction to the natural world. Elemental senses roll past quiet trees and scurrying creatures moving furtively through the undergrowth to any birds in the canopy. Night harbours many secrets. Few from her, though, as she sets out with a light trot after Hellboy. Favoured status from the plants shows as her light-footed tracks sink away into the dirt and winter-withered branches turn aside. It might be thick but she moves about like it's a sandy beach, footing firm. Gunfire is a little more troublesome when it shows. "Prefer to ignore them firing at us, or would it be best to make them stop?"

Hellboy has posed:
It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the "ancient" booby trap in the tunnels was connected to a not so ancient alert that immediately connected to the local militia, including the seemingly innocent shepard in the middle of the night who grabbed an assault rifle in a 'sheep' right next to the actual sheep beneath him and zipping into camo fatigues. They layed down control fire on the unindentified intruders keeping a distance waiting for nearer reinforcements.

Meanwhile, the house gives a positively creepy vibe as there are various lawn gnomes and other carved figures that sit in the lawn of the abandonded house that glare knowingly at Hellboy. They seem to know him, and that is because they do. The broad shadows of the woods make it practically dark, blotting out the stars in the cloudless sky as their eyes suddenly turn red as they animate. Between the animated lawn orniments and the militia taking pot shots at them he knows its only a time before the Doombots show up, "We need to get inside and into the basement. I need to know if its there. The Limner fueled a device we stopped several years ago and powered it with souls but one fell into a crack. We all ran before it exploded..." he looks around at the house, "if it exploded, how the hell did the house get back here?" He ignores the small wooden gnome trying to bite into his skin with no success whatsoever.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The buzz of bullets cutting through the forest they've landed in causes Captain American to pull his shield around to that side. Just in time for one bullet to ping off it and ricochet off into the foliage. "Let's get deeper inside," Steve suggests, heading away from the newest gunfire. In his head Steve imagines where the machinegun fire was, and where someone would travel deeper into the Latverian countryside from that point. And then moves on a course that he hopes will intersect them.

Up ahead, a house seems to rise out of the forest, visible through the trees that thin enough to suggest a yard. "Do you hear that?" Steve whispers to Thor. Not sure if he's hearing a deep voice in speech, but that's what it sounds like to him.

Steve continues forward, eyes on the alert to approach the edge of the more open area around the house. Eventually he makes out rather large figure, one that quite hopefully could only be Hellboy. He keeps his shield in hand, but arm loose at his side as he steps out into the open. "I don't believe they were crazy about having you come here," he says as Steve stands where he can easily be identified by the demon with the giant hand, and the young woman.

Thor has posed:
"More gunfire!" Thor says, his booming voice strangled to 'stealthy' volume but undeniably giddy. He follows after Steve in a slight crouch, apparently operating on the principles of Elder Scrolls stealth mechanics, and occasionally batting away an inconvenient bullet with a brick of Uru metal. He gives Steve's question a quick nod, then takes a slightly more meandering path than the patriotic Avenger, allowing them to bracket their target in a pincer maneuver. When Steve approaches and addresses the wayward figures, Thor remains crouched, not intending to reveal himself just yet. Just a random person in a big green cloak, nothing to see here.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meggan isn't going to ignore gunfire of a high calibre, but she has a red meatshield used accordingly. A habit of moving behind someone as imposing as Hellboy keeps her at least from being strafed, until the lawn gnomes and curious little statuettes animate from the ruined structure. Her green eyes widen, and she steels herself against any spiritual glows around them. "They're alive," she warns in that soft undertone, and disregard the fact her accent is subtly but surely tilting away from melodic English of the Lake Country to Latverian.

This might prove concerning when Steve emerges from the brush. She already briefly turns to look over her shoulder and as incongruous as it is, breaks into a smile tinged in a little relief. Perhaps she does not see the Thunderer striving to remain hidden, in the way his mom probably ignored him filching honey buns from the kitchen as a child. "The lawn ornaments don't match the souls inside. Their bodies were changed. This is an awful magic if done on their own." Disabusing the notion of lawn gnomes being friendly is key, though she points somewhere around the house's foundation. "Whatever has them bound, it's below and not above. Would you like me to open a path?"

Hellboy has posed:
Hellboy sighs. He actually Sighs, capital S. First, it's Captain America. Why not just send Puppy Man to stop him? I mean, only assholes kick puppies right? If they had sent some REGULAR agents, punching them would be fine, but Captain Pup...oh Thor. God, that would hurt. OK, this plan was poorly thought out.

Wait, rewind that? He listens to what Meggan says in his head and breathes a sigh of relief. "See? These POOR people are transformed by the Limner's magic. Guy was messed up, transformative magic, could change a single letter in a word and turn anything into anything else. He had some kind of infernal device in the sixties powered by souls, was going to transform half of Europe and we stopped him but the source of his power must still be active. It explains why the house is still here after an explosion that cleared all the trees like they weren't even here. We need to search the house, break his source of people and then get out of here before Doom finds us."

And Find. That. SOUL!

"Look, Steve, Thor....I don't wanna fight. But its a soul man! A real essence of a human life, and I don't believe Doom, I think its in that basement. And they ALREADY know we're here. Its an incident...well probably, no matter what, and the basement is RIGHT there..." he waves at the house.

Steve Rogers has posed:
As Steve focuses on Hellboy and listens to him, a garden know that comes up nearly this knee is sneaking up behind the super soldier. It gets near and crouches and then suddenly leaps, mouth open apparently intending to bite wherever he landed. Captain America whirls, catching the gnome by the back of the throat, holding it like that so it can't bite him.

He gives a small frown. "I was hoping to stop you before they noticed you. But it's too late for that," he says, already moving on and adapting to what the situation is now rather than worrying about failures that are now past.

"Alright, let's get this taken care of. Free this soul you came for, and these people. And get out of here before Doom has evidence of who was here," he says. He tosses the gnome aside, not terribly ungently, and jogs forward to join Hellboy and Meggan. "Ma'am," he says, tipping his head and a hand going to his helmeted mask as if tipping his cap.

Thor has posed:
Thor approaches in his pool of excessive cape, trying to put himself in the Stanislavski mindset of a Latverian commoner, until he's close enough to poke the gigantic red person. "Don't blow my cover," he reprimands Hellboy, when he addresses him by name. "But listen... you look just like a tiny version of a guy my dad knows," he continues, still using his 'stealthy' voice. "Do you maybe have a grandpa or something named Surtur?"

But he hasn't been ignoring Hellboy's pleas, by any means. Indeed, he turns to Steve with blue eyes big, a little 'can we keep him' pout on his face. "He's right... we should go help the people imprisoned here," he says.

He grins and lifts both fists in victory when Cap confirms the order, then makes a sweeping gesture for Meggan: after you. "By all means, open a path, young lady. We can sneak in and sneak out in no time. //Stealthily//." He tugs the hood of his Doom cloak a little tighter around his face.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meggan listens with her head tilted. Some of that explanation causes her to frown, but the longer the vermillion hunter with the colossal arm goes on, the more worried her expression turns. "Infernal as in powered or crafted in Hell?" Concern crossed with a gritty undertone makes the words come out harsher than she intends. Her own issue is a portly ceramic statue with a chubby face and a mouthful of sharp teeth that wouldn't be out of place on a child's drawing of a pumpkin at Halloween. It launches itself at her leg and goes to take a chomp, opportunist at best. She teeters over to grab it gently by the folded hat, tilted almost sideways, trying not to flail. "Don't be doing that, mate," she chides the thing, as a schoolteacher would a naughty toddler. A toddler trying to hamstring her, anyway.

The click of her tongue to her palate would be inconvenient as she gently bowls the angry ceramic statue away to knock into two wooden ones bounding on stiff limbs. "Please forget I did this, but it gives you deniability. Think hard of Doom, will you?" Her eyes close and that form of hers wavers, twisting and shifting on the fly, limbs hardening and more defined. Her height doesn't change much but the breadth of her shoulders absolutely does. Hardened lines replace lithe proportions, giving a silhouette unravelling beneath the coat a most familiar shape. Statues and images all over the place know their lord and master. The metal mask with its rivets closing over that blurring face gets refined if they think hard enough - the curse of a metamorph.

In the time it takes to pour coffee, Victor von Doomeggan strides across the ground to the house. He plunges both fists into the earth and pulls, in an action of half-blast, half forcible command of an elemental fae to part. 'He' has to stride right in, urging a path forward, but it's probably the only time ever Thor, Captain America or Hellboy would ever follow Doom into the dark without too much questioning?

Hellboy has posed:
The blinky red light on the "priority" dashboard of Doom is monitored by his closest leutenants, and the house is one of them. Doom said no and Doom MEANT no, in a mountain nearby the ceiling of a volcano lifts as Doombot after Doombot flies out and into the night sky like tiny fireflies scrambling enmass towards the forest. The sporadic gunfire stops as the paramilitary is told to back off.

Oddly ominous silence follows as the lawn ornaments that were people grr and arg and totally ineffectually try to gnaw on indestructable people but the house backs up for a moment as Doom "himself" enters since it doesnt know any of them but Hellboy, which it hates, but it DOES know doom and backs up in terror, the walls groaning with fear. One entering there is a large mirror radiating dark magic almost as if the Limner saw a star trek episode about a powerful energy being capable of matter transformation and thought doing that himself would be cool. Hellboy says, "The source of his power is likely an artifact in this room," he would hand them a small detector if they didnt have Meggan but HE is here for one reason, though he does want to rescue the people he has faith in the others and after following Doom into the shadows tries to open the clock door to the hidden (and now empty basement), unless stopped, he goes down the stairs which once out of sight of doom immediately animate and attack him like they were alive.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve Rogers follows along behind Doomeggan, his back towards the metal-masked woman so he can defend from any more of the lawn ornamentation that has developed a taste for hero. He tries to not be too violent, but one is sent in an arch across the lawn, a swing of his shield meant to discourage it.

He backs into the house, saying, "If they are firing on us it probably won't be too long before something worse than a few bullets arrive. I'm out of my element here, Hellboy. So whatever you and the lady can do? The faster the better," he says.

One of the creatures that managed to get on the roof drops down onto Steve's helmet before he's through the door. Thankfully it isn't just fabric covering his head, the teeth hitting the protective shell inside. He grabs and sends it flying to land in a bush and then moves into the house with the others.

Thor has posed:
Thor straightens, trying to stand up taller than the false Doom, and even tries thinking of a //short// Doom, but by then it's probably too late. "It's these damned gnomes gnawing on my disguise," he mutters. There are indeed three of them, trying to drag down the god of thunder by the hem of his cloak. He lifts the garment and flicks them away before following the rest of the group into the weirdly reactive, deserted shack.

"Irritating creatures," he says with sympathy as Steve pries one off his head. But if there's one thing Thor knows, it's how to deal with dark magic. Once inside the haunted abode, he strides up to the evil mirror without delay and chants, "Mirror, mirror, in a shack! Which Avenger has the strongest attack?"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Possibly too late. Meggan's drawing on her assumptions of Doom, their memories of Doom, and anything Doomly that might be borrowed and stolen. Like a bad wedding, all she needs is something blue.

Thus it's with an imperious sense of purpose that Doomeggan flings open the wall to that house. Masks limit range of vision somewhat; he will not send a helpful letter for improvements to the sovereign of Latveria anytime soon. Headache-inducing waves from feeling out the edges of power in the yard redouble when confronted by the actual source of greater, evil magic. "Right there. The mirror exudes fell energy that cannot possibly entail anything good." Gravelly and refined, the Latverian timbre is actually pretty accurate. Gone, the more colloquial English for something measured, precise, dominating every syllable as though it owes him existence for the sheer joy of being on his lips. Stentorian oratory /is/ a Doom hallmark.

Pays to be an Internet and media junkie, given how often Victor is on display for impressionable minds to absorb.

"Has no one ever heard to avoid splitting the party? Doom has no time for such..." That's an honest impression made worse as he gestures grandly. And catches himself, shuddering visibly. "Pardon. A coat thrown over it before it's removed immediately seems wise. Regrettably the consequences for its destruction are uncertain."

Another flex of his hands into fists, and forcibly, Doomeggan grinds out, "I mean, I'm not sure what it will do."

Hellboy has posed:
The Mirror has a bored almost Butler looking face, "Oh. Really? Sure, OK why not...."

It shows images of Thor, Iron Man, Captain Marvel and the other avengers getting more and more powerful, including one of Thor looking very Odinlike with a staff made of some odd wood in one hand, and Hulk wearing armor leading an army to attack the Earth from space, and then it shows Ultron, "Earth 1026 has Ultron-Phoenix in its ranks. He is the most powerful Avenger." What, no one said anything about WHICH Earth?

The Mirror cringes as Doom points out that it is a source of power and suddenly every plank and piece of furniture and carpet in the house animates and tries (likely ineffectually) to attack the three heroes above.

The basement is...empty. There is a large stand with melted slag where the infernal device WAS, but it is melted to nothing, with twelve slots for the twelve souls that had powered it, all empty. Hellboy moves over to the small crag it feel into and its empty. There is a small torn scrap of parchment, but when he pulls it out it has nothing to do with the soul, just an odd demonic typerwriter keypad with runs on a QWERTY keyboard. Disgusted, he throws it over his shoulder and takes out a device to try and scan again to determine just to be sure and it shows Red. There is no soul in the immediate vecinity. He keeps trying and it isnt there.

All of this, was for naught.

Though he finally finds a trace of...something, an image, a magical signature...a clue. He'll take it.

Meanwhile, Doombots fly overland and cross past several pastoral villages.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve is playing bodyguard at this point, easily the least informed about these mystical sort of situations. "Thor the magic mirrors in the stories I grew up with weren't necessarily good things to ask advice of," he says. "Remind me to ask Tony if we have a copy of Snow-"

That's as far as Cap gets as the furniture comes alive. He jumps to avoid being ensnared by a roll of carpet, landing beyond it just as a table along the hallway wall runs over on four legs and rams into the small of his back. He pitches forward and the couch grabs him and flips over on top of him with a body slam that might have Vince McMahon calling about a contract.

Though things start to go downhill for Team Ikea after that. The couch is flipped up and off of him and Steve hops up, tossing it into a corner. The table is grabbed and rammed into the couch, pushed in like a wedge to trap the the couch in the corner of the room.

Thor has posed:
Doomeggan's caution, no matter how imperiously phrased, is certainly prudent, and Thor did bring a spare cloak. It would be the work of seconds to do as she says, but Thor is too affronted by the mirror's answer to his simple question to do anything but gape at it for a second. "Earth what has a who?"

Snarling in annoyance, he raises Mjolnir to just smash the thing, only to be battered aside at the last second by a murderous armoire. "Impudent furnishings!" he bellows, as an end table tackles him from behind in an attempt to cut his legs out from under him. "You challenge the god of thunder at your peril!" A hammer-blow sends a dining chair crashing into splinters across the room, then Thor snatches the armoire and suplexes it directly into the mirror of the damned.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Doom does not have time for such declarations by an accursed mirror. He certainly will not be spoken to by an inanimate device or embarrassed by floorboards ripping themselves free of their nails and accosting him. Steve's recommendation for a possible novel or movie would be informative, if the ground did not decide to arbitrarily throw him up.

So he floats to scorn it, and shows the house how futile such efforts are. Carpet hissing and lapping with burns would be a nuisance, and he flings his fist out to send a burst of raw energy out at the wall away from Thor and Cap. That burst probably puts a new hole in the floor, giving an excellent view below. A second blast, etched green, ensures the blinds are going to personally take umbrage and fly over to swat at him.

Hellboy has posed:
Hellboy shoots the damn mirror on coming out of the basement. Probably a bad luck curse or something but then again, he has likely connected enough curses by now to assemble alibrary. Well its a lot. The instant he does, the house slows down its attacks, not quite STOPPING but it does start to shake. Funny thing about magically created matter not powered by magic any more...it tends to go back to what it was before which in this case was....air and trees. Meanwhile, outside, the lawn gnomes and pink flamingos turn into people in 1960's clothing, a few in 1950's, mostly Latverian gear looking extremely confused. The house begins to shake.

The Doombots begin to approach the woods en masse and priming weaponry. The original Quinjet that Thor and Captain America came on notifies Cap of their imminent approach.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Once Cap is aware of the threat, the furniture doesn't stand too much chance in a fight. Though he's trying to avoid outright destroying it just in case any of it turns out to be a person like he's heard the lawn gnomes might be.

When the house fades away, he breaths a sigh of relief. But it is short-lived as he hears the voice in his ear, moving a hand to touch a finger to his ear. Because you have to do that to let people know you're receiving a message.

"We've got Doombots inbound. Time to get out of here. Thor can you carry all of us? Or if not, do either of you have a way of flying with us? We have a plane on the other side of the border waiting for us."

Thor has posed:
"Mjolnir can carry as many as need demands," Thor answers, extending a hand once again while Mjolnir spins in the other. "Grip firmly, all who need transport." He turns to peer at the onrushing line of Doombots wistfully, then lowers his head, flashes a rueful grin, and adds, "As you have impressed upon me, Captain, retreat can be the valorous option, if by it one buys extended peace." It's unlikely Steve ever said that, or anything quite so ornate, but some lesson about not constantly throwing himself into fights just because they're fun must have sunk in with Thor over the years. Once everyone who needs to has a good handhold, Thor launches them into the air to intercept the Quinjet.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Doombots will, one day, question why Victor von Doom shows up under their scans in the presence of foul interlopers. Probably. Perhaps they will also descend on a crowd of confused Latverians lost from the time and lands they once knew, endowed by a savage hatred for common garden and lawn ornaments.

Thor is not alone in taking the news of an attack wistfully. Or perhaps a bit ironically. However, Doomeggan reluctantly runs his gloved hand over his masked face. "It may be wise to remove Doom's visage to avoid international incident, in such a matter." With a proper shake of his head, he reaches takes a proper handhold of Thor's arm and the figure melts back into a blonde woman of similar height but much slimmer build. Three Meggans could make a Thor, most likely. "Let's mosey, I don't anticipate enjoying this one bit if those bots show up. We might have a worse incident with dragons involved." Kidding? Probably.

Her smile shows even as she bounces up onto her toes, hovering until they are in motion. Maybe turning to Doom just /once/ in flight is fair?

Hellboy has posed:
Hellboy says, "You don't gotta tell me twice," he grins, but doesnt look forward to the yelling at by his superiors at WAND even if they do get away with it and he grabs on to Thor. Though, in the considerable list of weird stuff he deals with on a daily basis, retreat by literal Dues Ex Machina is by far the preferred way to travel....

The house begins to vanish and as the heroes fly off the doom bots begin to aim to obliterate them from a distance when they detect life forms. The bots report this to command and are told to sweep in and investigate. Systems immediately identify several missing persons cases that are over 60 years old and the bots are immediately set to swing them out of the rapidly increasing cold of the night air and get them to shelter. Many are Latverian citizens after all. The heroes are able to get away, relatively unscathed."