07-11-2004, 03:39 PM
The alienâs physiology was more than enough to power Beastsâs image inducer. Once activated, it hummed with activity louder than Hank had ever heard it do before. In fact, the green haired doctor instinctively grabbed for the device, thinking that it was going to overload. But just as he did, it seemed to align itself with Norrinâs energy signature and his appearance shifted accordingly, leaving a second Henry McCoy standing where the Surfer had just been. Happy that the team was adequately disguised, they made their way out of the park and headed down the path that Spider-man and Victoria had themselves followed moments earlier.
Outside the confines of the park, swinging gracefully from building to building, Spider-man whisked Victoria and himself toward their destination. Fortunately it was an easy trip to make. It was a straight shot down 8th Avenue from the Park, and then around the corner to Bleecker Street. With no twists and turns to make around the city, it was a breeze for Peter to build up some amazing speed. Of coarse it was nothing compared to the lightning fast mobility of their impatient teammate, but it would have to do. As they traveled briskly down 8th Avenue, Victoria watched the streets below. Like any other day in New York City, the concrete corridors were filled with people. But with every passing minute the crowds seemed to dissipate. The people below moved with a much greater sense of urgency than the hectic populace of New York was known for. In fact, they seemed so preoccupied that it was obvious to her that they didnât even need her psychic shielding. The people below had their minds entirely too wrapped up in their own troubles to notice two super heroes swinging from the buildings. They continued along 8th Avenue, which took them right past the world famous Madison Square Garden, or what was in Victoriaâs reality world famous. Here and now it appeared to be abandoned. A dilapidated shell of a building that had obviously not been used in some time. Something was surely not right in this city.
Outside the restaurant bearing the familiar golden arches, Barry stood cocky as ever. The passers-by barely took the time to look at him as he screeched to a halt in the middle of the parking lot. Making his way to the front of the establishment, he reached for the door and gave it a tug. But the thing did not budge. It was then that he noticed the sign in the window that read of the placeâs hours: MON. - SUN.: 8am-5pm. Now Barry had been to hundreds of different McDonalds all over the country, and he had never encountered one with such conservative hours. Especially one located in a tourist mecca like New York. Something was surely not right in this reality.
In a hurry, Hank and the rest of The Watch did their best to make their way through the city by foot. Beast knew that it was about four miles from the Park to Stephenâs brownstone, and that at this time of day it could take almost an hour to get there on foot. But this reality seemed different in that regard. For as they moved along the ever darkening streets, the cityâs natives seemed to be dispersing rather quickly. It made it easier to move down 8th Avenue rapidly, but it also set the group on edge. Most of them had a vague understanding of how life in New York City operated, and this place seemed to be bucking the status quo rather vehemently. But they did not have the time to stop and ponder the situation, for they had to meet up with the rest of their team as quickly as possible.
By the time the team finally rendezvoused outside of the fast food restaurant it was nearly dark. They covered the few blocks to Stephen Strangeâs house as quickly as they could, being led by Hank, considering he was the only one of the group that knew where the Sorcerer lived. As they walked the short distance, they now noticed that the streets had emptied completely. The Watch were the only people left wandering the streets of Greenwich Village. As they stood outside the run down tenement of a building that was once home to the Sorcerer Supreme, goose bumps began to form and blood began to run like ice water throughout the members of the team as the city took on a most eery tone.
Outside the confines of the park, swinging gracefully from building to building, Spider-man whisked Victoria and himself toward their destination. Fortunately it was an easy trip to make. It was a straight shot down 8th Avenue from the Park, and then around the corner to Bleecker Street. With no twists and turns to make around the city, it was a breeze for Peter to build up some amazing speed. Of coarse it was nothing compared to the lightning fast mobility of their impatient teammate, but it would have to do. As they traveled briskly down 8th Avenue, Victoria watched the streets below. Like any other day in New York City, the concrete corridors were filled with people. But with every passing minute the crowds seemed to dissipate. The people below moved with a much greater sense of urgency than the hectic populace of New York was known for. In fact, they seemed so preoccupied that it was obvious to her that they didnât even need her psychic shielding. The people below had their minds entirely too wrapped up in their own troubles to notice two super heroes swinging from the buildings. They continued along 8th Avenue, which took them right past the world famous Madison Square Garden, or what was in Victoriaâs reality world famous. Here and now it appeared to be abandoned. A dilapidated shell of a building that had obviously not been used in some time. Something was surely not right in this city.
Outside the restaurant bearing the familiar golden arches, Barry stood cocky as ever. The passers-by barely took the time to look at him as he screeched to a halt in the middle of the parking lot. Making his way to the front of the establishment, he reached for the door and gave it a tug. But the thing did not budge. It was then that he noticed the sign in the window that read of the placeâs hours: MON. - SUN.: 8am-5pm. Now Barry had been to hundreds of different McDonalds all over the country, and he had never encountered one with such conservative hours. Especially one located in a tourist mecca like New York. Something was surely not right in this reality.
In a hurry, Hank and the rest of The Watch did their best to make their way through the city by foot. Beast knew that it was about four miles from the Park to Stephenâs brownstone, and that at this time of day it could take almost an hour to get there on foot. But this reality seemed different in that regard. For as they moved along the ever darkening streets, the cityâs natives seemed to be dispersing rather quickly. It made it easier to move down 8th Avenue rapidly, but it also set the group on edge. Most of them had a vague understanding of how life in New York City operated, and this place seemed to be bucking the status quo rather vehemently. But they did not have the time to stop and ponder the situation, for they had to meet up with the rest of their team as quickly as possible.
By the time the team finally rendezvoused outside of the fast food restaurant it was nearly dark. They covered the few blocks to Stephen Strangeâs house as quickly as they could, being led by Hank, considering he was the only one of the group that knew where the Sorcerer lived. As they walked the short distance, they now noticed that the streets had emptied completely. The Watch were the only people left wandering the streets of Greenwich Village. As they stood outside the run down tenement of a building that was once home to the Sorcerer Supreme, goose bumps began to form and blood began to run like ice water throughout the members of the team as the city took on a most eery tone.