#d:ororo

[canucklchead]

@cloudwclker

There were times when a man ate for fuel, and there were times when a man ate for pleasure. With all the shit going on in New York -- demons, politics, barren wastelands -- Logan figured now was the time for the latter. He deserved something good in his life, he figured, and he couldn’t think of anyone better to enjoy it with than Ororo. Despite the ultimate failure of their relationship, the two remained close friends, and he was always willing and eager to spend time with her.

At the moment, however, he was a little annoyed. It wasn’t Ororo’s fault, of course, and Logan didn’t blame her for it. If anything, he was annoyed at the demons and the Skrulls and the Syndicate and every other disaster that wiped out block after block of decent restaurants in the city. “Used to be a great seafood joint right here,” he observed mournfully as the pair trudged down the road, searching far and wide for ‘the perfect lobster.’ So far, they’d had no luck, and it wasn’t even due to the slimy demon guts coating their clothing. They couldn’t even find a restaurant to be turned away from. “Had the best red snapper you could find anywhere on the East Coast. I don’t even know if it was the demons or the Skrulls that knocked it on its ass.”

[panthergcd]

@cloudwclker

Timidness had never been a quality T’Challa possessed. He had been raised to be a warrior and a king, and there was no room for such things in either position. He had always been one to say what he wanted plainly and without fear, never bothering to ‘beat around the bush’ so to speak. Still, there had always been something about Ororo Munroe that made him revert to something almost resembling shy. He remained far from timid, but he’d always found it far more difficult to simply state his thoughts with her. 

Perhaps, T’Challa thought, it was her beauty. Her power, too, might play a factor, or her courage. Whatever the case may be, he had no intentions of letting his mind to continue in its fumbling. He was, it seemed, trapped in New York indefinitely, and he could not be a fool while there. The decision to invite Ororo to dinner -- as friends, he told himself -- was an easy one. Working up the courage to do so had proven a tad more difficult. Many of the children surrounding the mansion’s yard and gathered in its halls giggled as he made his way to Ororo’s office, and had T’Challa not been insistently nervous, he may have been amused. As it was, it took all he had to knock on the door and enter with a smile on his face. “I was hoping you might accompany me to dinner tonight,” he said in way of greeting, offering Ororo a smile. “The city is in turmoil, but I’ve yet to find a restaurant that will turn me away.”

[valhallabcund]

@cloudwclker

Asgardians had always loved the royal family and, foolishly, Valkyrie had found herself among them for a time. Odin had given her a new life, and she’d adored him for it until the moment his selfishness had taken it all away. These days, the royal family was far less endearing, and though Thor had proven himself a worthy ally and, perhaps, something of a friend, she had her doubts on whether or not he was as strong as he claimed.

So when she heard word of a goddess on Earth whose powers extended beyond those of just thunder, she’d been understandably intrigued. Upon meeting Ororo Munroe, she learned the woman was not, in fact, a goddess, but she was immensely powerful. Moreso, perhaps, than Thor himself. It was a theory Valkyrie very much wanted to test. “I think we should spar,” she announced, as way of greeting, approaching Ororo with a wicked grin. “I’d love to see the full extent of your powers, and it’s been some time since I got to properly exercise mine.” She couldn’t use the full extent of her strength in the ring without risking killing a Midgardian, and while she wouldn’t exactly mourn any death that came at her hand, she knew doing so would cause her quite the headache in terms of legality.

[panthergcd]

@cloudwclker

Battles always seemed easily won with Ororo at his side. Truthfully, T’Challa wasn’t sure if it was because he fought a little harder when she was there to see it (the old habit of trying to impress her was a hard one to break, after all) or if they simply made a more effective team than most, but he was glad for it. He stretched his back, mentally checking himself for injuries as Ororo landed at his side. He was unharmed, though he knew if the demons continued to target them directly, it may not always be the case. They’d gotten lucky this time; they couldn’t count on that luck forever.

He glanced up as Ororo touched down beside him, removing his mask so he could address her properly. He didn’t like speaking to her with a mask between them; it felt disrespectful, wrong. “You fought well,” he told her with a smile, “though that is unsurprising. I think those demons, ah, ‘bit off more than they could chew’ with you today.” Pausing, he studied her carefully before adding, “We should do something now, don’t you think? In celebration of a battle well fought.”

[galaxiesdeadlicst]

@cloudwclker

Truthfully, Gamora took no sides in most of humanity’s conflicts. When the Syndicate was active, she attacked them only because they had dared attack her first. With the Skrulls, she would gladly kill them if only because doing so would mean less of them to pester her when she returned to the stars. But HYDRA? Gamora had no stake in the fight against the agency. She believed them to be cowards, hiding behind ideals they did not truly represent, and she would not hesitate to kill any of them that crossed her, but she saw little reason to seek them out.

That was, of course, unless she was bored. And tonight? Tonight, her favorite bar was still closed for something called a “holiday weekend,” and she truly had nothing better to do than to fight. And so, here she was, a sword in each hand cutting through any agent who came within reach. It was relaxing.

The realization that she was not alone in her battle was immediate, not only because of her training -- which made it impossible not to notice such things -- but also because the stranger appeared with a gust of wind and a strike of lightening. Immediately, Gamora was intrigued. “I take it the change in weather is not a coincidence,” she said, watching the stranger -- a woman, she realized, white hair contrasting starkly with dark skin -- out of the corner of her eye.