A/N: Friends encouraged me and exhilarating nights of old school gaming to write this. Had to use some rusty back issues and wikipedia to get a bit of background fluff for even one chapter, but I'm just here to describe the fighting later on. I will update so let me know how to sharpen this up folks.
'The Time in-Between'
Fragments of 'Marvel vs. Capcom' fanfic.
ONE: Striking a Deal
Thirty-five years and still standing, she surveyed the green plains around her. The terrain she used to enjoy immensely for training became an open forum for all the voices of doubt that rang out within her mind. They weren't as strong, under competition from Rome's traffic and fanfare, but pleading, begging for her reconsideration as they had a chance.
What drove the gypsy woman? After years of training and hand-to-hand, experiencing the oddest violations of her own body, an angry soul winning against her conscience and moving fists, chops and kicks in directions she couldn't agree with, upon faces, colorful and stormy eyes that had once trusted her as an ally.
Rose had taken it upon herself to harbor the final essence that was the mad and power hungry M. Bison. The images that came with memories of pain, deafness and blindness, were only left towards the imagination. In reality, there was a giant void, between the last times she stared up at his burnt cheeks, empty eyes. The red officer's cap ironically was still screwed tight atop his noggin even in desperation, as he possessed her, running like a scared mouse towards cover within her.
Ryu and his younger sister knew. Kenneth knew. She walked the fields, sweating not from the summer weather, but in reflection wondering how they were able to dissect the ghastly essence of an immoral solider, and criminal from the noble helper they'd come to know in so many international tournaments. How were they able to forgive her, knowing whom she was within?
Perhaps like Chun Li and Guile they would hold fast to their wits, if they ever found out the Bison in her, was not one hundred percent compatriot.
Not if she would sell everyone out with a shake of the hand…
Thundering across the empty fields, they came in their solid and shiny machinery. Though the bushes were too tall, she could still hear them both approaching. A graying man who appeared to be in his sixties, bald as a crystal ball accelerating his mecha- recliner within close distance, the other was a significantly tall humanoid behemoth of blue and gray plates, and wires surrounding him. With a majestic, yet quaking voice, he demanded her to approach.
"Mrs. Rose! We've been waiting for you!" The oblong corners of 'Apocalypse's' mouth twisted into a sly smile. He inhaled tremendously; sounding off a terrible reaction between the oxygen and the metallic holds about his face and cranium, one of his few emotional trends that were beginning to upset the nerves and heart rate of the chained prisoner at his side.
Charles Francis Xavier sensed the uncertainty of the purple-coated longhaired lady who stood upright before them. Someone who had not only the mark of a warrior but the battle scars to go with it, and from what his mind could pry and suggest, the very same empty spaces in her memory, ragged holes, that hardly knew the source of their pain, only friends telling them who was ultimately responsible for their suffering. Not people.
But power that he was just beginning to wonder, if man was truly meant to control.
An average morning he'd spent at the mansion with Rogue looking in upon some of the new vigilantes, and orphans they'd picked up recently. They'd gone through an unofficial seminar with the children, recalling old battles, and personal struggles to educate the rash young minds on how to control the energy that had been put upon them, until something metallic and familiar had smashed through the lobby, killing some of his future pupils and holding others hostage before his eyes.
It was easier to explain to those children the pressures of mutant life when it was the result of wayward science only. Inner peace was the solution, but there was an evil spirit element to their tales as well. People who chose to let the bad swell up in them, wish for reincarnation to witness future eras of destruction beyond their allotted time, time to plot the same old tyrannical and murderous schemes for great coups. It never seemed to get old with ones such as Apocalypse.
Gritting his teeth he was fueled with a newfound hatred. Not towards his capturer but his capturer's insolence, for desiring the same destructive fetishes, and vowing to return. The skin would only continue to sag off his bones, and with mankind's cycle of violence continuing, only one would be there to initiate his personal firestorms. Not some demigod, but a foolish former king who couldn't stop wishing-
"If you are done thinking aloud Doctor, I would appreciate it immensely if you paid attention." Apocalypse clipped the side of Xavier's chair whilst Rose stood by incensed.
"I take it you must be the moderator of these discussions?" Rose cut in. Apocalypse raised his eyebrows in newfound interest and turned to face his negotiator
"If by that, you mean everything now, and everything that will happen as soon as this meeting is over…then yes. I am."
"Explain Madame." Xavier croaked yet as gentlemanly as he could manage.
"My name is Rose. A former member of the Roma tribe that used to migrate here, we were trained excessively in the arts of warfare as well as a student of my masters. He later became the head of the 'Shadaloo' Crime Syndicate.
"M. Bison..." Xavier stumbled. "Once I thought the psionic powers that his ex-military grunts acquired to only be a joke, until the fall of those reactors in Japan and the U.S. It seems he'd fallen short of his goals in the midst of an Olympic tournament or test of power before he could present a significant danger to anyone in the U.S. Imagine a dictatorship based on merit of power, mutants and men having to gladiate each other for greater societal worth, and tasting wicked powers."
"A ridiculous dream." Apocalypse admitted in mutters, growing quickly impatient with the long drawn out speeches.
Rose sighed. Here was the difficult part.
"His reign was short lived by troupes of warriors, soldiers, and martial artists that could get under his skin, but the very essence of M. Bison they could not destroy. He'd found another host to kinetically embody, before they made another vessel for him that was destroyed. Apparently, every last trace of him was not cleaned up.
"Well where is he, and to what extent does this involves me and Apocalypse?"
She coughed a very unfeminine cough in clearing her throat. It was a sonic boom that scattered nearby birds off into the air. Hair fell over irritated and tearful eyes, as it dawned upon the professor. She was embarrassed, being unable to explain. Someone else did it for her.
As it was finally his turn to smile, Apocalypse grinned childishly.
"He stands before you doctor…"
For a minute and a half during the standoff, the spring breeze had its say.
"You poor thing." He couldn't even begin to comprehend the depths of her possession. For Jean Gray, the Phoenix had some notable similarities though one was ravenous and she was calm. For this woman who knew if there were two opposite forces in bodily conflict, someone who must have been within her like a parasite.
"During the time in between his last military excursions, and the tournament challenge he opened to all willing fighters, I could not help but investigate the Shadaloo. We've hatched this idea together and personally, after hearing of Bison's negative energies. As with you, and any sort of destructive world force, I keep tabs on everything. If an ability, or weapon exists, I've heard of it, and though at first was critical, I decided like to test his energies versus the dangers I know to be within your X-Men, their allies in the Avengers, rogues such as Omega Red, everyone considering just how 'pervasive' this parasitic essence of M. Bison has become, he could present a significant danger to you bands of heroes, and all the warriors who have been affected by him, are well capable too. I propose an experiment Xavier! With the Onslaught within you, and your friends as the guinea pigs! Surely the world will bow to THESE powers."
"Question." Xavier raised his finger "If M. Bison and the consortium that defeated him are so powerful, then why would they even acknowledge a fool like you?"
"I'm very glad you asked that Doctor." Though ecstatic, a melancholic harmony flowed out of his metal voice as he pointed towards another guest.
He was covered in fire. Xavier's weak eyes imagined it was The Human Torch approaching. The man's form was somewhat shorter than what he remembered the old avenger to be, and with significant muscle tone. Metallic brands, and adrenaline pump installments tore into his tattered dark dojo-uniform. Beastly teeth snarled in the distance, the low purr of a lion.
"I present to you the man who'd defeated M. Bison and burnt up the majority of his cellular remains single-handedly. My own blood…is his 'Achilles heel!' Of all the dumbest luck in the universe Xavier-
He paused to regain his composure, and cleared his throat.
" Now, I control a very mean dog, and for my sake he demands full cooperation. You will encourage your warriors to engage in MY tournament. I refuse to remain this docile and weakened, unacknowledged by the cynical and socially free of this modern age. I was always feared and respected throughout time and will continue to be!"
At a loss for words from a ridiculous proposal and diatribe, as well as the fire charged hand of his enemy's new pet reaching out to him, Xavier could only sigh and agree.
"Lockheed Martin?" Kenneth Masters blew up
He missed his punch and the bag tackled him. The hot blooded and extremely outspoken Japanese pilot Jin Saotome for the first time in his life, was given unto shivers and nervous pacing about the Master's basement training room of their mansion. Perhaps it was the thick Timberlands pressing deep into the blond's gym mat. Ken refused for once in a seven hour training session to get up, and opened his arms towards an eager four year old rushing upon him.
Jin brushed the loving moment aside to waller in his own life and tensions. He even raised his voice over the giggles, and noisemaking of the Masters' familial slang to command their attention.
They both smirked and turned around.
"They want to pay me 5.6 Billion for my Blodia Armor."
Gasping laughs launched the fighter's chronic morning breath towards the incensed pilot's face
"What are you…nuts? Take it! Your war is over. What'll you use that big machine to hunt down anyways? Bill Collectors?"
"Maybe." Jin studied the ground as he laughed " But you know that rig is a part of me, my combat style aesthetic, art, without her, I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
"Well you certainly couldn't settle down with a woman that's for sure. They aren't handled like machines, granted 'they're ready when you're ready' know what'm saying?"
"I heard that!" warned the voice of a wife not too far beyond the training room's glass doors and patio.
"Sorry hon'." He acknowledged then turned back
"I have to be honest. Maybe it was useful for some tricks when we thought Shadaloo was going to bring about some dark age, and the cronies who tried to program other military jets and armors, but now you've got the biggest paperweight in human history under your backyard dude. Only thing good about it is that it doesn't leak nuclear toxins. Turn it in, and get that machine off your hands. Especially, if you have more agencies are learning about it."
"It's not the legal and foreign policy stuff that worries me, something else…something maybe just as big as we had to face before…."