X-Men: Darkest Days

A vista of Kini-Nui from the Mata Nui Online Game
  • Posted 2013-07-22 04:50:38 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
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  • OOC: The last hoorah!


    IC: Spencer breathed heavily as he slumped against the wall of the tallest building he had been able to scale. Hand clenched around his bleeding arm, Spencer gazed across the crippled New York skyline, ragged coughs wrenching from his chest as sporadic testament to the tears that had rolled down his face as New York has practically been destroyed around him.


    By some miracle of fate, or perhaps a watchful eye of a kind and lightning fast stranger, Spencer had managed to survive. But he would not simply crawl in a corner and hide.


    Oh no.


    If this day had taught Spencer anything, it was that more than ever, the world needed people to step up to the plate, regardless of the dark opinions of it's inhabitants. People who would defend the safety and lives of the people, despite the hate they would receive for being different.






    Nero gazed with a crooked smile at his slowly twitching foot. This werewolf thing was turning out to be more worth it than Nero had realized. It was nice to see something go right after so much had gone wrong. If anything, Nero was willing to take this small victory, this small voluntary twitch of his toe as a sign that brighter days were yet to come. There was just a storm to be weathered first.


    "But... I think we can handle that, yeah?" Nero asked himself aloud.


    Everything would work out. Nero was sure of it.




    Adrian stared out of the window of his room in the Institute. Even now, he could still see smoke spiraling up from New York City. How terrifying that things were turning out this way, and yet and still, there was nothing he, or those at the mansion could do about it. The mutant populace was still simply too untrusted, any radical movement made at this tense time would be seen as a threat, or an act of renegade justice. A point of view that the Xavier Institute could no longer afford to be on the wrong side of.


    As far as Adrian was concerned, those at the Institute, his home, should only focus on keeping each other safe from here on in. 'United We Stand', or so the saying goes.




    Dana gazed out to the side of the open road. The Dodge Charger roared down the highway, Israel at the wheel, heading off to wherever the horizon took them. He certainly was not the partner she would have asked for, but she could have done worse. The man could handle himself at the very least, and was quite street savvy, a solid counter for her more direct book smarts.


    Safety was all she was concerned about at this point.


    Israel, on the other hand, was not concerned with safety at all. It wasn't the first time he'd been on the run, it wouldn't be the last, and it was a lifestyle he was comfortable with. No, the only thing he was concerned with was figuring out when he would come back.


    Revenge was supposedly a dish best served cold, but Izzy was never a very patient man. And those that make Israel Cody run often tended to live to see the day when they would regret it.




    Tom Summersmite shook his head as he watched the news coverage of the New York attack, comfortable in one of his various out of country getaways. Things seemed to be going sour in the states. Seemed like a good time to turn his craft internationally. When things cooled off? Well... That would be handled when it happened.




    Xander breathed heavily as he sat on the bus, gazing at the flyer for the Xavier Institute, before crumpling it up, and stuffing it in his duffel bag. That wasn't the place for him. To be honest, Xander had no clue what that place would be. The Hellfire Club had collapsed, Weapon X was dead, and there didn't seem to be much drawing Xander to any particular location. Wherever his place was, he would find it away from New York. Xander let his head fall back on the headrest of the seat.


    Being lost was no walk in the park....




    Civilizations rise and fall. Such is life. The falling part, however, was always of interest to he who went by "Corpse". It was always during the fall that things got interesting. And it was always during the fall that the feast became so easy to come by.


    Dragging a body along behind him as he slipped into the shadow of an alley, Corpse grinned a gruesome grin.




    OOC: Alrighty. Ups, downs, lefts, rights. All were a huge part of this sometimes awesome, sometimes infuriating, sometimes terrifying, but always interesting RPG Roller Coaster. It's been wonderful imagining this world with you all. And I hope at some point, we can get together, and revisit this thing we've created, or expand to other awesome worlds and flights of fancy.


    A bow out will be posted for Siegfried once a few more Avengers make their exit, and/or I understand where the Avengers currently stand.


    Later days, peoples.

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  • Posted 2013-07-22 21:11:19 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
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  • IC: Mimic


    Christine sat alone now within the cafeteria of the school. She rested her body against the table and just sat and thought. It was nice to be able to just sit and think. After everything that had happened. She'd been left behind in Vegas to help rebuild the devastated city, she'd sat by Aleks bedside while he'd clung onto life. She'd witnessed New York in her darkest hour.


    But now that was all over. Everything had settled down again. Christine hadn't always been an X-Man. She'd spent most of her life fighting alongside the Brotherhood with the company of her protector, Unbreakable. He'd been her first true friend. He'd protected her until death, and that was a moment she would never forget, when her friend sacrificed his life for her, and the rest of the X-Men.


    She'd witnessed the evils of mankind firsthand, being locked away in a prison for some odd months before Weapon-X had broken her out. But Weapon-X had been even worse. Like a lot of the other X-Men she'd been turned into a Weapon, branded, and forced to kill. But during that time she met the X-Men, she met Aleks. Her life changed.


    She switched sides, threw in her lot with Beast's team and made the mansion her new home. This was where her mother had ended up. This is where she truly belonged. Christine had family here: her cousin, Matt. Her 'sister' Kristen from the Ultimate dimension.


    Her little brother Chris who was now missing. Chris meant the world to Christine. When she'd first met him he'd had no memories of his own. She'd helped him learn. She helped him cope with this dangerous world and then she'd lost him. Now that things had settled down she decided she would find Chris.


    Christine got up from the table and began to walk through the school. As she reached the front door she saw that it was now pouring outside. She shrugged before pulling on her green and white hood. It cast a shadow over her long brown hair, hair that was blemished by a single streak of white.


    "Ah'll find you Chris. Then ah'll take you home." Christine breathed. Her emerald eyes were determined as she stepped into the rain and didn't look back.

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  • Posted 2013-07-22 23:04:00 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
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  • IC:


    Christine's words before departing weren't heard by Christine alone. Kristen stood not that far away, holding her side and frowning as she watched Christine walked into the rain.

    "I guess we'll go shopping later then," Kristen murmured to herself as she lost sight of Christine. She sighed as she turned around, and headed back through the Institute. A hand clamped down upon her remaining shoulder, resulting in her jumping in place, and almost activating her powers before she turned to look at the figure. It was one of the students, and it dimly clicked in Kristen's mind that he had the room across the hall from her's.

    "You know... That was quite a return you made back here the other day. Even better that I happened to witness it with my two eyes... And with my phone's camera," He whispered into Kristen's ear. Kristen promptly froze, and felt her hand ball into a fist as her face turned red.

    "What do you want?" Kristen growled, "I don't own anything you know."

    "I just need you to do me some favors... At my discretion. If you don't do what I say... Or try to tell anyone of our agreement, a certain picture of you is gonna be sent to every guy in this school," The student replied.

    Blackmail. Kristen frowned, restraining the urge to punch him, or try to see if she could still absorb this guy's memories. He couldn't watch her 24/7, and when she was clear, she would just tell Alaric. Or someone who could help her...

    "Fine," Kristen replied, forcing herself to relax and have a straight face, "I'll do what you ask. After I recover."

    With that, she headed away, leaving the now-perplexed student behind...


    Several days later, Kristen tried to grab a hold of the tomato again. Alex had decided that this test was the best before she tried to do anything extreme such as fighting... And also gave her the opportunity to learn how to clean it off. Gently, or as best as she could, she lifted the Tomato, trying to regulate the amount of pressure she applied to it. Her new arm glinted as the morning sun's rays shone through the window of the kitchen, and mirrored Kristen's mood.

    She'd asked Alex about it after Christine left. He was able to oblige her request. Kristen had been surprisingly cheerful throughout the process, even when it took many painful hours to connect the artificial and organic nerves together. She'd been told to try and avoid doing anything crazy like trying to single-handedly fight off an army while she recovered, as she needed the time to become used to her new limb. The thought was, if she could control her arm from crushing a Tomato, then she could control her arm. So far, the counter had been stained red with Tomato juice from her failed attempts.

    Kristen frowned as she applied too much pressure and crushed the fruit in her metallic hand. Sighing, she dropped the remains of the fruit, and busied herself with cleaning the metallic limb. At least it was an easier adjustment to get used to than some of the other things in her life. Classes would hopefully be resuming again, and Kristen had to get caught up on her virtually non-existent knowledge of things that school teaches.

    At least it beats fighting for her life on a daily basis.

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  • Posted 2013-07-23 01:56:13 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
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  • OOC: Well, it's been a fun ride.True farewells wait until my other wrap ups are posted.IC:ScreeechA set of claws scraped down the side of a suit of Tesla armor, setting the shifter's hair on end.The arm was pulled back, ducking backwards as a fist came at his face, flipping around to send a full force kick at the suit's mask.No dice.A punch landed straight in his face, sending him flying backwards, into a wall. Ribs broke, body hit the ground.A growl as his bones started to realign, as he got to all fours, trying to stand again-Sparks flew, and the mutant screamed as he took a full on blast of lightning, falling back on his face again.Not for long.Struggle to his knees.His neck was grabbed, being pulled up like a wolf grabs her pups, like a hunter displays a prize fur.Turned to face the soldier, being held in a more conventional stranglehold.The voltage came again.The shifter tried to scream, but couldn't.More than just shifter vs suit.This was the untamed against the pet, the free against the caged, nature against man.Man may win, the wilderness may be tamed.But nature is patient.New cells started springing to life along his arms, even as he struggled to maintain concentration.He reached- Closer and closer to the helmet, and-He had a hold.And the cells released their payload. Volts and volts of bioelectricity, right into the mask.He was dropped, and he hit the ground, ribs only now mended.He stood with a groan, smiling slightly, turned to face whatever might come next, and-Something stung him in the chest.Ten seconds before he lost consciousness.He looked down, a spurt of blood coming from his heart.9.Looked up at the soldier with the gun.8.He started toward him.7.The soldier turned and started to run, but the shifter was too fast-6.He jumped.5.Smashed the soldier to the ground.4.Hands arounds his throat, feeding the voltage in.3.Fell to the side, lying next to the man he'd killed.2.One in a million shot. Right to the heart.1.Nick smiled at fate, then drifted off into sleep.0.***"Is he dead?"The medic nodded. "There were some shards of glass around the wound. Probably from a necklace of some kind. Major electrical burns around the neck, though they appear to have healed rapidly. Well, until he died. Mutant."In the ambulance, some serum seeped into the wound.A finger twitched.IC: The archer spun, releasing an arrow to peg a trooper firing at him right in the eye, then turned and ran.Kept running, speed drawing arrows and firing as fast as he could at those who tried to kill him.He passed by soldiers fighting for their lives, fighting for their freedom, families trying to hide.He passed by.The archer was on the wanted list, and while the army had bigger fish to fry, that didn't mean they would avoid killing him.He ran.Almost out of arrows.Soldier coming up on the right-No ammo.Pick up a rock, knock one out with a throw.Keep running.Trash can lid toward a HYDRA's face.Keep running.Almost out of the warzone.Keep running.Ran into the not destroyed section of New York.He was free.

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  • Posted 2013-07-23 03:38:35 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
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  • OOC: Farewell everyone.


    IC: (White Lightning and Marauder)


    As we made our way through the streets of New York, the remaining forces of Hydra had surrendered. I was actually hoping to take care of more of those #######. Either way, I didn't mind. The only thing that was left was for me to get back to the Mansion, and for Marauder to get back with S.H.I.E.L.D.


    Before we departed ways, he said, "Well this is the end of the line. You do know where the Mansion is right?"


    "Sure I know where it is."


    He then extended his hand out, and shaked his hand.


    "Here. Take my pistol. Use it in case you need it."

    I took his pistol, and put it in my pocket. "Try not to get yourself killed old man."


    "Same here kid."

    With that, we walked in the opposite direction. I walked towards the direction of the mansion, while he walked towards the war zone. I'll be glad to get back towards the mansion, but a part of me doesn't feel that way. Hmph, we'll see what happens.


    OOC: Theme: The War Still Rages Within


    IC: (Mute Man)

    Micheal stood a top the New York skyline. Watching over the streets like a vulture, ready to feast on the dead. He begins to charge up a blast of sound, when he catches something from the corner of his eye. A lone X-Men walking towards the mansion. Easy picking, and also a small victory for him.


    He then quits charging the blast and continues to look at him.


    "Oh how I'd love to kill you now."


    OOC: Theme: The Only Thing I Know For Real


    It's been a blast here, and looking forward towards the new RPG.

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  • Posted 2013-07-23 06:41:47 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
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  • OOC: Farewell for Knower, farewell/introduction for Melodia.


    IC: Knower, Melodia

    Noel was down. Howard was down. Louis, Carli, Natalie, and Zanebono were unaccounted for, at least from my point of view. Erin, Siegfried, Alyssa, and Brando were still in this fight. In addition, the U.S. military had entered the fight. There was still hope. Despite this, the soldiers kept on coming, shooting anything that was in their way. It wasn't over yet, but there still was hope. New York wasn't done yet. No, no matter how many of them came, New York refused to give up. But how much more could she take? there was still hope, but how much?


    Hope. In the dictionary, it meant a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. But one sentence couldn't describe the word in its entirety. Hope was what kept people fighting in their darkest hours. Hope was what kept people believing when it was hard to believe. Hope, the enemy of despair, the guardian angel of all those in fear, the lifeline of the oppressed and the depressed, what was it truly? For some reason, I found myself pondering this question as I walked through the streets. Sword in its sheath, carbine in my hands, I walked, surveying the damage. My armor had been discarded; let's just say that it was a failed experiment. Contrary to my expectations, standard uniform proved better in this situation.


    One of SHIELD's own fell to the ground. He was still alive-just barely-and had taken his potential killer with him. But more were coming. Whoever this fallen soldier was-granted, he looked a lot like James, he seemed to be an ally in danger. Several soldiers were advancing in our direction. A full head on confrontation would be suicidal, so I took another route. Hiding out of their site, playing dead for extra precaution, I waited until they weren't suspecting it, and then opened fire. One, down instantly. The other two return fire. I duck out of the way, then rush them, full auto. They fall. Not believing that they could fall so easily, I shot their presumably dead bodies several more times just to check. For some reason, the act of cold blooded murder had triggered some flashbacks in my mind...


    "They can't turn me into a child soldier! Don't take me away!" I gritted my teeth as I recalled the time that I was recruited into Pantheon. So much had changed since then. I had become older, both physically, and mentally. Physically, my body was screwed up; I was aging much faster than normal for some reason, though I had been successful in slowing the effects down. Mentally, I had changed too. If my self from only a year ago were to walk by, he wouldn't recognize his future self. "In fact,' I thought, "Am I even a shred of the old me anymore? Is this what joining this organization cost me? The metaphorical loss of my soul?" I didn't even feel guilt anymore when I pulled that trigger. I could kill a whole company of men and not feel a thing! Was this supposed to be a bad thing? Was I a monster?


    "Poor boy, having to fight so young," a voice behind me whispered. I turned around, startled, pointing my carbine at the newcomer, only to be instantly disarmed. "I didn't notice him the whole time?!" I thought incredulously. "How could he get so close?" Startled, I slashed out with my sword. The stranger drew a blade of his own seemingly from nowhere and effortlessly ripped the sword from my hands. "Okay, how does he do that?" I thought, startled as I drew my pistol. "Who the heck are you?" I asked. All he answered was "Let's talk somewhere private." Grabbing me with one arm, he formed a portal with is other hand before throwing me in.


    When I came to, I found myself on top of an old apartment building. Getting to my feet, i surveyed the surroundings. The mysterious man was sitting several feet away from me, drinking what appeared to be a bottle of beer or was it pop? I couldn't tell; the label was in Korean. "You finally woke up," the stranger remarked. "Thought I accidentally did you in, kid." "Kid?" I asked, confused. He never met me before; how did he know that I was a minor? Besides, I looked older than he did, never mind my skinnier build. "That's right Vincent, or should I say Agent Odysseus?" "Okay, how did you get access to that info?" I reached for my pistol but it was gone. "You know," the stranger remarked, "Kids like you shouldn't be playing with guns. As for how I know so much of your personal information, I have my sources." Putting his bottle of whatever down, he started whistling to himself. "I just had to make sure it was you.' "Sir, explain yourself, or I may be inclined to-" "Your threats are meaningless," the man said, his voice taking a much darker tone. "For one thing, I'm armed," he said, pointing my gun at me, "And you're no-oomph!" Before he knew it, a telepathic shockwave hit him square in the, uh, mind? In the brief instance of distraction, I had closed the distance, gun flying out of his hand, my survival knife drawn. A brief struggle ensued, but soon I had the serrated edge my knife to his throat. "Okay, tell me how you managed to obtain classified agent bio data and also what you're trying to do here." I slowly moved the knife, not enough to cause a wound, but enough for him to feel it. The man gulped, and then whispered, "Just as I feared."


    Suddenly, the man grabbed my knife hand and raised his other arm to prevent me from sliding. Before I had time to react, he violently spun around while purposely falling over. "So much torque?!" I thought incredulously as I was thrown off of him. Recovering my balance, I turned back to face him only to hear him... singing? "Moro lasso al mio duolo/E chi..." I recognized the song as an Italian madrigal. But why was he singing? Suddenly, a wave of intense emotion came over me. For some reason, I had become extremely terrified and extremely depressed at the same time. "What the..." The man rose to his feet and continued to sing. The power of his voice along drove me back, and back, and back. Mercifully, he stopped. "So sad," he whispered. "So sad..."


    "Do you not feel it? Death, all around us, the cessation of life." He pointed down to the alleyway below showing the bodies of what looked like Iron Man Jr and another SHIELD agent; Noel perhaps? "What could be more sad then death? But then again, life itself is a torment..." The man continued to advance upon me even as I got into a combat stance. "In the end, there is nothing in life but misery. Happiness is fleeting, leaving as soon as it arrives, impossible to retain. The pleasures if this life, it is just chasing the wind. In the end, there is only sadness..." The man turned his eyes to the sky. Seeing a chance, I rushed him, but at the last second, he grabbed me and threw me to the other side of the roof. "But then again," the man continued, his smooth voice suddenly becoming booming as thunder. "Don't we deserve to die? Perhaps this sadness is nature's way of punishing us. Punishing us for all the evils we commit, not just against each other but against her..." The man's voice slowly dropped to but a whisper. I charged him again; this time, he blocked in a Karate-like fashion. We traded blows for a short distance until he locked me in an armbar. "Don't you see? We live only to suffer and to inflict suffering. It would be better if we didn't exist at all! Better for the Earth-" The man's speech was interrupted with a punch to the face. "Wha!" he stammered, letting go of my arm. Jab, cross, uppercut, roundhouse, back kick. he stepped a couple of steps away from me, and adopted a fighting stance of his own. "Looks strangely familiar..."


    We began circling each other, watching each other carefully. Then, he made the first move. Skip roundhouse kick, 360 hook, jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross... He moved with lightning speed, the kicks striking before I had a chance to react. I was caught in his flurry of punches. ow to get out? Wait, I saw it. Sweeping kick to the shin. Palm heel to the chest. Punch to the solar plexus. The kick caught him off guard, slowing him down just enough for the hand strikes to connect. He reeled back in pain, clutching his abdomen. I didn't let up. Front kick to the groin. Knife hand to the neck. Hammer fist to the skull. He staggered backwards some more, slowly regaining his composure. i watched him closely, slowly closing the gap-he suddenly dashed forward and grabbed me, flipped me around, BANG!!! He kneed me in the back even as my head rung from being bashed into the side of the protrusion... attachment... whatever that thing leading to the stairs was called. I collapsed to the ground, even as he stood over me. "Still just a rookie," he muttered, whipping his silver hair around like he was taunting me. I couldn't move, but I still had one card left to play. Triggering my abilities, I unleashed a mental assault on the man. He staggered back in mental pain, clutching his head. Smiling wickedly, I violently probed deeper and deeper into his mind.


    What. The. ?!


    The mere shock of the revelation was enough to send me to my feet. "Okay, who in the heck are you?!" The man inhaled deeply, then responded, seemingly daydreaming. "In another time and another universe," he lazily spoke, "I was Vincent Zai. But now," he continued, a sudden edge to his voice as he threw off his outer cloak, "You may call me Reyson Tsui of HYDRA." With that, he charged me again. The fight was back on. I blocked a punch and returned one of my own. "How could you join those snakes?!" I spat venomously. "They are but a means to an end; a mere stop along my path in life," the man, now revealed to be some sort of alternate universe double of me, replied as he shoved me away from him. The bottle that the man was drinking from earlier fell off the roof, shattering on the ground, catching the attention of a US Army Soldier. "Well I've heard enough," I hissed. "You are the enemy, that means you must be eliminated. Nothing personal." Taking out my backup knife-the wooden folding knife from when I first joined SHIELD, I lunged at him. He dodged, and pulled out a knife of his own. We circled each other, staying on our guard, occasionally making threatening motions. Then we lunged at each other, me stabbing, he slashing...


    The left side of my field of vision went dark. A horrendous pain in my head. I could feel myself falling backward, screaming in pain, even as the main took two more slashes at me. Both missed, but the damage was already done. I collapsed to the ground, not knowing what had happened. I could feel some liquid running down my face. It hurt, but I didn't know what happened. It hurt so much... My alternate self looked grimly down at me. "What a pity. Why did it have to come to this?" Crouching down, he cut off a bunch of hair from my head and pocketed it. Stretching an arm out, a portal appeared. He stepped into it, and all traces of him were gone. I lay on the ground for a few moments, drifting in and out. Suddenly, the door to the roof opened, and a soldier stepped out. Recognizing my uniform, he took a good look at me before radioing his superiors. The last thing I heard before blacking out was "Sir, I've found an allied unit. Probably from SHIELD. He's lost an eye; just now from the looks of it. He needs medical attention now!"

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  • Posted 2013-07-25 03:24:37 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
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  • IC: Feral, Liam, Ultimate Feral


    As John stood alone in the rain suddenly he caught a whiff of someone approaching. He inhaled the scent and stiffened. It smelled like him. But not like him. There was another scent mixed in as well, the scent of his past love, Liliana. Liam. There was no one else it could be. John knew that scent. It was the scent of his 'son'.


    Liam had been one of the late Dr. Novocain's sick experiments. He'd taken some of John and Liliana's DNA Without asking and spliced them together before creating a new clone. A clone with a mixture of both their DNA. Novocain had altered the clone's growth rate however. He had accelerated him to the age of a teenager and programmed his mind full of information. Novocain had apparently messed with Liam's mind as well. John remembered him being unstable, trying to kill himself and Liliana.[/color]


    Liliana had somehow broken through to Liam for a time however. He had helped them during the Weapon-X battle before coming back to the mansion with them. But it hadn't lasted long. John remembered an episode where Liam had attempted to stab a child opening presents on Christmas Day. After that Liam had run off into the woods and John hadn't seen him sense. He'd searched for Liam, even found his trail but it had always gone dry. John had found things in the woods though. People and animals that had been torn apart. Things something only a mutant with claws could do. Liam's scent had been all over them as well.


    "Liam? I know you're there." John said as he faced the trees.


    "Father," Liam said as he stepped out of the trees and stared at John. One eye was the same shade of John's while the other was a more light blue that belonged to his mother. "I've come home at last." Liam said. His voice was uneven and shaky, as if he was constantly nervous or not at ease.


    "Stay where you are. I know what you've been doing Liam. You killed those people. You can't be here."


    "That's just like you! You were never there for me! You never loved me! You never gave a **** about me! I wasn't supposed to happen! I was forced upon you!" Liam roared his eyes full of hate now.


    "That's not true. I do love you Liam. I tried to find you. You just need help, and I will get you that help. But you can't be here at the school you could hurt the other kids."


    "LIAR! I will make you pay for your lies father! Like I made those people pay for looking at me wrong! I will tear you apart!" Liam cried. Four bone claws burst from each hand and thick ice began to cover each of the claws at Liam charged at John.


    "You always loved them more then me! Well I'll make them pay! I'll kill everyone in that stupid school! Starting with you!"


    It wasn't supposed to be like this. Snikt. John's own adamantium claws slid forth from his knuckles and extended towards the ground. A father shouldn't have to fight his own son. But was Liam really his son?


    Liam flung himself at John as he began tearing and slashing at him with his claws. The sharp ice sliced across John's chest leaving behind bright red tears in his flesh. John struck back. Slashing furiously at his son with his claws. Adamantium met ice as they slashed each other to pieces. Four claws tore across John's cheek as John's three cut upwards across Liam's shoulder.


    There were no words now as father and son continued their deadly dance. John jumped backwards landing on one of the slick tombstones as Liam stabbed one of his hands forward. The darkened sky continued to pour rain down on the two fighters. As if the heavens themselves were crying at the events. Liam jumped onto a tombstone of his own as he stabbed his claws into John's gut.


    [John doubled over as the four claws penetrated his body. He looked up at Liam's hate filled eyes. John's reflected only sadness.


    "Please son, stop this. We don't have to do this." he said; his teeth now stained red.


    "Shut up! You're only filling my head with lies! Lies! I'll make the lies stop!" Liam yelled. He stabbed his other four claws into John's gut as well.


    Terrible pain tore through John as he crouched on the tombstone with his son's claws inside his body. John flicked his wrist then. In an instant his adamantium claws cut through the ice and bone of Liam's own.


    Liam watched in shock as all of his claws were severed by John's own superior ones.


    "Those will take a while to grow back." John said as he wrapped a hand on one of the claws still in his gut before tearing it out and tossing it away.


    Liam began to laugh now. "Then I will tear you apart another way." he said. His eyes flashed a bright yellow and he crouched low as his bones began to snap and relocated inside his body.


    John watched as his son morphed and changed. Soon a massive black furred lycan had taken Liam's place. Liam snapped his jaws at John before flinging himself at him. Newly grown talons began to rip and tear John's flesh. Liam unleashed a roar as he grabbed John and then began to smash him into one of the tombstones over and over. Liam was now much stronger then John. He groaned with pain as he was smashed into the tombstone over and over. His blood splattering over the stone before it was washed away by the torrent of rain.


    Suddenly Liam froze. Blood spurted from his neck and then his head rolled off his shoulders and fell to the ground.


    John stared in shock. That hadn't been him. What the heck?


    Another figure stood behind the hulking lycan body. It was John. The Ultimate one. Ultimate John had his metal arm outstretched still and his claws were now coated in Liam's dark lycan blood. The other John stared at this universes John as he slowly lowered the lycan body to the ground.


    "You killed my son..."


    "Our son."


    "T-thank you." John said as tears began to run from his eyes. "I didn't want it to come to this. Why does everyone I love have to die?"


    "Its a curse. Our father had the same problem. All of his loves eventually died. Beyond that he outlived so many people he cared for. He would of outlived all of the X-Men if the Phoenix hadn't destroyed him. Perhaps his death was in reality a gift. This life can be a curse itself if you allow it." The Ultimate John said.


    "You turned him into a lycan."


    "Yes I did," John nodded. "But I was out of my mind at the time. Being a lycan makes me sort of crazy sometimes. I wanted to bite my best friend Dallas and turn him as well."


    "What happened?" John asked. It was weird to talk to himself. Yet it wasn't him. This version of John was somehow even more dark and his features were even more attractive. There was something more predatory about him.


    "I finally got some control and came back to apologize."


    "Are you sticking around then?"


    "No. I can't stay here. This place can't handle two of us. Especially one of us who is a lycan." Ultimate John said as his eyes flashed a bright yellow.


    "Take care of my universes Ash for me. Tell her I said goodbye."


    "I will," John said as he got to his feet and extended his hand for the other John to shake after pulling in his claws. "Wait weren't you guys like a couple?"


    The two John's shook each others hands then. "Yeah we were. But I saw her in the woods. She didn't see me but I saw her. She's a vampire now. It saddens me that she died somehow when I wasn't there... but I'm glad to see that's she's still alive. But she's a vampire and I'm a lycan. We are mortal enemies now. It would be for the best if she never came across me again."


    "I'm sorry... I know how it feels to have your own Ash die. But yeah I'll keep my eye on her. I didn't know she was a vampire until now but that explains things." John nodded. That explains her cold hands...


    "Oh, and tell Dallas that I'm sorry for trying to bite him. Tell him that I'm okay now and as long as I'm around no Phalanx is going to turn this dimensions Jessica Alba into one of those things. Not on my watch."


    "Alright, I'll tell him." John nodded. He watched as the other John turned away from him. He then crouched down and transformed. It was a fluid transformation. Not like Liams. One instant the other John had stood there and the other a massive white wolf. John watched as the lycan ran off into the woods and vanished.


    As Ultimate John ran through the woods he released a solitary howl. There was a familiar scent in the distance. The scent of the one who had turned him into a lycan in the first place. Aldrich. John increased his pace. He would need too if he was to run alongside his maker.


    Alone once again in the cemetery John turned to Liam's body. It had shifted back into its human form. Silently John began to dig a shallow grave. Alone he then buried the body of his insane son.


    "I'm sorry it ended this way Liam. I'm so sorry. You deserved more." John said softly. When it was over John found a flat stone near the edge of the trees. He extended a single claw and then crudely carved the name Liam into the stone. He then carried it over to the grave and placed it into the earth. John then turned his back to the cemetery and began to walk away. He'd had enough death to last a lifetime.


    He never wanted to see death again. But deep down he knew he never would never escape it. There would always be death around him. Like the other John had said. This life could be a curse if you let it. But John wasn't going too. He was going to focus on the bright parts of life. On his friends. The family he still had. The hope he held for a better America, a better earth for mutants. Everyone he loved died. So John would love no one. They would be safer that way.


    IC: Triblade, Aleksander


    As Matt left the cafeteria he found Aleks sitting alone in the courtyard of the school.


    "I hope you're okay with tacos," Matt said as he slowy approached Aleks with a steaming plate full.


    "Better than starving to death," Aleks grumbled before taking two in each hand.


    "Very true, which I was until I got my hands on these." Matt grinned as he grabbed one and took a bite.


    "I'm glad you decided to stick around in the end Aleks."


    "Yeahhh, me too, I guess. Beats going back to Russia. Or Canada, Christ forbid."


    "Yeah, Canada was a heII hole. It was risky working with the Brotherhood but I'm glad we got everyone out of there and burnt that ****ing place to the ground."


    "We'll probably work with worse, someday."


    "Yeah probably. But I'm confident in the X-Men. We have the Ultimate X-Men now to stand with us. I don't think Xavier's dream will ever die, no matter how many of us do or decide to stop fighting. We're apart of something bigger then all of us. Even if you don't consider yourself an honorary X-Man, you are one in my eyes."


    "Long as I don't have to wear the X, tiger," Aleks toasted with his last remaining taco.


    "Heh, no one's gonna force you to wear the X," Matt smiled as he toasted back with his taco. "Oh by I may have lied earlier. I kept some of the pictures. Locked away on my laptop though."


    "Were they hot?"


    "Of course. I can show you if you want." he said with a sly grin.




    Aleksandr looked around the courtyard in a quick recon sweep before jerking his head at Matt and smirking.


    "Go, get the laptop, quick."


    "Alright. Your eyes only though." he said. Matt then hopped off his perch and began to sprint away from Aleks while he chomped on his last taco. He ran up the stairs and vanished from sight for a few minutes before he suddenly slid down the wooden banister with his laptop perched vicariously in his hands before moving back over to Aleks. "Here we go."


    Aleks scooted over to Matt and flipped the laptop up, watching as Matt pulled up My Computer, then My Pictures. "Here goes."


    "Yep. Don't worry I wouldn't have kept them unless there was a reason." he said and his cheeks reddened a bit as the slideshow began to view.


    "OH MY GOD."


    "I KNOW RIGHT?!"


    IC: Harbinger


    Eric had found the Hellfire mansion almost empty when he'd arrived. It was only a minor setback. He was only going to use them anyway to further his goals. Now he stood atop a lone building and examined the decimated New York skyline. It was a beautiful sight to behold. So much death, so much destruction. His lady Death had a feast of souls tonight. Harbinger was glad he was able to have a rampage earlier during the battle. He'd needed to vent and let loose.


    It had been fun killing that red headed mutant as well. There was more to come. Vegas had only been the beginning. Vegas had burned under Eric and his men. The Children of the Corn had killed thousands of lives and had showed that the X-Men could be defeated. The world had watched as their heroes had failed and lives had been taken. But it wasn't enough.


    Hydra had failed to completely bring New York to the brink of destruction, but they had been close. No, Eric needed something bigger. The world needed an apocalypse. Its population needed to be decimated as it had grown out of control. More then that Eric wanted to feed the soul of every weak and ungrateful human to his wonderful mother. Yes, that's exactly what the world needed. An apocalypse. He would not stop until there was one. Until the whole world burned and only the people like him walked the earth. The killers, the demented. The strong. It would be a new glorious world indeed.


    Eric exhaled his cigarette as he watched the city burn. It was still a beautiful sight. But it was only the beginning.


    OOC: Wrap ups for John, U! John, death for Liam NPC, and a mash-up signoff for Matt/Aleks with Tyler. Oh wrap-up for Eric too.



    Shout-out to all of the characters and NPC's I played along the way that died during the RP.


    Katherine, Quicksilver, Beast, Crossfire, Jeremy/Darkfang, Romulus, Destruction, Novocain, Liam, Unbreakable, last and mostly least (Ares).


    So that's all for me folks. This RP has been an amazing ride. I'm glad that all of you decided to give XMDD a try and it turned into what it did. The road has been rough at times but it has been worth it. XMDD would of never been what it was without the amazing players, thank you everyone for being apart of this great RP. I will always look back at this RP with fondness. I enjoyed RPing with everyone here. And maybe we will meet again in the sequel.

  • Edited on 2014-01-29 16:26:09 by Flex Cop
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  • Posted 2013-07-25 03:44:03 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • IC (Manuel)


    A child was crying. It was to be expected. The small band of people huddled in the hallways, listening to the roar of battle and the screams of the dying, were hardly in an emotionally stable state. Except for one of them, he was an odd sort, wearing clothing two centuries out of date. He had an odd-looking pistol in one hand and the other glowed with strange energies. Behind him, two obsidian black creatures stood, their wickedly long claws and barbed tails stained with blood. Their blank, horned faces utterly expressionless, their lithe, unnaturally thin bodies heaved with in a sick parody of breath. Their wings were curled up behind them.


    In front of trio were the bodies of many Hydra soldiers, all in various states of dismemberment. They’d made a grave mistake coming after this group of innocents. The last mistake they had ever made. Of course, he’d need to vanish after this. Manuel had no wish to expose himself to the world. He much preferred the shadows. Action had been forced upon him however. What kind of man could stand by and allowed the deaths of innocents? What true being could do that? Manuel had seen things in his lifetime, he’d dealt with beings from beyond the weak and feeble realm of sanity. He’d mastered magics of the darkest sort.


    Good and evil were just words. You had to think about the visual. He’d seen a group of crying children and adults lined up against the wall. Seen a group of soldiers about to the pull their triggers, he hadn’t liked that visual. So he’d changed it. That was agency. That was something everyone had but few used. Heroes and villains were the same in one respect. They used agency when others ignored it. They knew they could change the world if they truly tried. So they did. What made them a villain, or a hero, was how they used that agency. The universe was a hostile place. Full of dark and terrible secrets, but if you were brave and strong of mind….even the shadows held gifts.


    Gifts that could be used to say, disembowel a group of human waste. He rather liked that visual.

  • Edited on 2013-07-25 03:47:13 by Basilisk
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  • Posted 2013-07-25 05:45:04 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • IC:


    "So what did we get from the lake house?"


    "Bust," the second MACE commando growled as he sidled up to guard the hood of the Humvee assigned to the pair. "One Brotherhood man alone in a study. Might be the owner of the house. Didn't even keep a skeleton crew."


    "Really?" his partner snorted, the sound distorted and heavy through his helmet and visor. "Man, that's ###### luck. How'd that work out for him?"


    "How do you think?" the man cracked, and both of them began to laugh. The guy who had just arrived turned and looked at the restaurant they were guarding, then out at the desolate streets of the small lake town they'd settled into. There was a quarantine up, enforced by MACE, until dawn at the earliest; they weren't taking any chances that a mutant would escape somehow or that someone from the Brotherhood would slip through their fingers. MACE enforcers and commandos filed in and out of various public and private residences with a startling lack of warrants, but at this stage in the game the Constitution was a formality. The Brotherhood had never stuck by it. Why should those fighting them? "######in' muties. Think they can take an army with a snap of their fingers.


    "Listen, I gotta hit the restroom," the new arrival continued as he walked by the entrance of the restaurant, standing a good half a foot or so underneath the cheerfully campy Boar's Head Saloon! sign above the eaterie. "Watch the Humvee for me. We got a weird transmission from someone in Charlie Team out by the lake house at around 2250. Just after we breached. Said something about a water mutie moving through the house towards the lake with a couple laptops full of info. Couple minutes later, poof. No more Charlie Team. So we gotta head out there."


    The first commando grunted and leaned back against the hood of the Humvee, holding his rifle at waist level and scanning the perimeter. The minutes ticked by, and ticked by, and ticked by, and his partner came strolling out of the restaurant clutching at his stomach; above him, barely missing the Boar's Head Saloon! sign as he ducked down and walked under the stairs.


    "Wife's cooking," he explained through gritted teeth, slightly altering his voice with the mix of pain and helmet interference. "Not digesting right lately. HeII, at least the food poisoning at McDonald's is worth it."


    The other man snorted in laughter and motioned for his partner to follow him; his hand seized in midair and twitched as the rearrived commando promptly raised the butt of his rifle and cracked the man in the back of the head, sending his helmet directly into the soft base of the back of his skull. He dropped heavily with a grunt and was caught promptly by the turncoat commando. There was a quick ###### of his hands to the right and a snapping sound before he dropped, any semblance of resistance slipping away just as fluidly as his life. The commando disappeared into thin air, carrying the dead man's body with him, and then fizzed back into existence a second later. Slowly he slipped into the Humvee and produced the key, starting up the military vehicle and driving through the streets at a lethargic, easy pace until he reached the checkpoint. One commando strutted up to him in full body garb save helmet and motioned for him to produce credentials and pop off his helmet.


    The man scanned the face on the ID, the face of the commando, then snorted something about how he'd better hit the bench after all this was over and waved him on his way. Dutifully the man got in his Humvee and started it up again, driving through the gates and out of the town...but not towards the lake. By the time anyone figured that out, Dominik Lord was already gone. His helmet had stayed off, sitting in the passenger's seat beside him with a fair amount of blood caking the inside that highlighted his deep golden hair here and there. Taking the side roads and off-road spots that he knew MACE didn't have under their sphere of influence yet, he finally cut onto one of the main roads leading to a highway and cut his way towards New York City, cutting off all electronics and surveillance equipment he knew to be in this particular model of vehicle. After all, he was the boss now. He couldn't do anything stupid.


    Like Abraham.


    Dom knew he could have been great. No, Abraham would have been great, if he'd had a chance to put that mind of his to work. He could have brought peace, and stability, and true hope for mutantkind; he would have not only been someone to be feared by those who sought bigotry and hate, he would have been cheered on, idolized, by the common man. He'd had his hands clutched firmly around the bloody, dirty name of the Brotherhood and just as he'd been about to wring away the muck, MACE had put him down with the typical short-sighted ignorance - nay, prejudice - that had been expected of them from the beginning but had always been prayed to be nothing more than mere exaggeration.
    He would have been great, Dominik repeated mentally as he reached out with one gloved fist and threw it into the windshield angrily, with a scowing, twisted grimace that fought back tears as he pounded on the glass surface, threw all his hatred and loss and heartbreak into the reflection of the military checkpoint in the distance. He would have been great, but it didn't matter now, did it.
    Now he was the boss.
    "Daken Akihiro. My young...multi talented...friend."
    The sounds of rushing wind greeted Daken as his eyes opened up slowly and lazily behind heavy lids; two guards in all black body armor stood, holding guns at him, and a figure obscured in the shadows with a voice that Daken recognized to be his employer's (though he didn't sound very South African anymore...) stood behind both of them, further towards the end of the cockpit. Below them, Daken could catch glimpses and pieces of the New York City skyline. If he could so much as land in the water, or even bring someone as a cushion to break his fall, he could be fully healed in what, fourteen hours? Plenty of time. Less time it'd take him to heal after being shot to ribbons and then tossed out of the helicopter.
    "Why does the tone of your voice make me feel like I've been dragged inside a ######-o-copter, boss?" Daken asked genuinely, a sense of anxiousness permeating his normally carefree attitude. The man snorted and motioned for the men to put their guns down, then walked over and patted Daken on both shoulders, motioning out towards the New York City skylines, out towards the clouds hovering above the plumes of smoke. His unvocalized question was clear: what do you see?
    Daken didn't know what he saw. A lot of fire. A lot of death. Enough that he could smell it even here, at eye level with the skyline; they'd been all he smelled since he'd been flash frozen in the Canada wastes after being set aflame by Ashlynn Summers by the boss' best and brightest cryokinetics. After he'd been brought back from the brink with the blood of everything with a healing factor under the sun, from Hellfire vampires to other mutants. After he'd been carried through the customs departments of several international airports inside a casket and brought to the Caribbean to recuperate completely. As he'd only found out later, his employer was well-connected. It was the only thing he'd found out about his employer since then.
    "I want to renegotiate our deal," the man said with a sinister smirk, "but first I want you to tell me what you see."
    For the first time in his life, Daken wondered if he'd royally ###### up.
    He shrugged simply, followed his employer's gaze to the crowds, and said, "From here, if I tilt my head, I can kinda see a Viking ship sailing into Dory the fish's mouth--"
    Big mistake: he caught a heavy rifle butt right in the ribs and buckled to his knees in time to be smacked around again in the dome. The boss (henceforth to be referred to as Big Bad, Daken noted with a spot of mental dark humor through the kaleidoscope splotches of pain in his head) knelt down and pointed out to one cluster of buildings in particular. Daken's eyes followed the man's trembling finger out to the cluster and furrowed his eyebrows, narrowed his eyes. He had a bad feeling about this one.
    "Look out there, Daken. Tell me what you see, and you'll find out who I am," the man instructed, as soon as Daken's eyes found what he presumed Big Bad wanted him to look for. Six letters in big white text that made Daken's heart pump with adrenaline, surprise, and more than a little genuine fear:
    "Oooo-kay there, boss," he laughed nervously, held precariously at the edge of the helicopter on his knees, practically tasting the air currents; they dried his mouth out almost as quickly as the sudden surge of understanding and hormones did. "Let's...let's not get hasty now. Let's renegotiate. It'll be fun."
    Norman Osborn smiled and lifted Daken to his feet, shaking him warmly by the hand.
    "I thought it might be," he agreed. "Now, sit down. Need any refreshments? This offer might take a while, so you might as well get comfy..."
    "Sir, this is a mistake."
    "We're being monitored, Agent Hill. Watch what you say."
    "Sir, you know this is a mistake."
    Nick Fury sighed deeply, arms crossed, as he and Maria Hill stared out through the glass viewing box at the prisoner below. His head was tucked down so that his face was unreadable, but his torso was shirtless and bloodied with wounds that even now his healing factor could not totally nip away at. The S.H.I.E.L.D. director's face, normally unreadable and rigid like a carpenter's block of wood, was contorted in thought and a bit of apprehension; three teeth tugged away at the right corner of his bottom lip.
    "I know it is, Agent Hill. But it's an order. One that we don't have the power to defy without a Helicarrier, without Avengers, or without resources. It's gotta be done, and if it's not done by us it'll be done by someone with a lot less qualms about it than we have, so we might as well make it easy."
    "But sir," Hill pressed, "you know what this man can--[/i]"
    "Maria, I have seen all too well what this man can do. If you don't stop questioning me, the next thing the NSA recording devices in this viewing box will hear is you being busted down to an administrator's spot in Fallujah. Now, I'm not going to ask you to prep him again."
    Maria Hill's turn to bite her lip. She looked down at the prisoner then at Fury.
    "I'll be guarding the door, but that won't be enough."
    "I'm handling him personally, Maria. I'll be fine."
    "Sir, with all due respect, that won't be enough."
    Fury looked back from Hill, debating the merit of the assessment in her deep gaze, to the prisoner one last time. Finally, he sighed, a rare, uncharacteristically deep sound for the Director.
    "Fine. Bring Coulson, too."
    "I want you to know I'm not proud of this Initiative," Fury concluded after explaining it fully to the prisoner. "You're a good man. A loyal man, despite the reports flying around about you. But this has gotta be done, or--"
    "Or what, Director?" the prisoner spat back. "Or I rot away in some Third World prison? Never see the light of day? Finally kick the bucket, after it takes a million years for me to turn eighty? Please."
    "Mr. Worthington--"
    "Warren," Fury started again dangerously, "I don't think you realize how bad the world's gotten since you last checked in on it. New York City's half in shambles. Hank McCoy's dead. Pietro Maximoff is dead. As we speak, the Brotherhood's last vestiges are being stamped out in the New York countryside. We have reliable word from the Institute that your own son has shacked up with some pretty little lady on an epic road trip to find you, and God only knows what they want. Half my Avengers are dead, the other half beaten half to heII. This could help a lot of people."
    "And ruin a lot more."
    "I'm sure you're used to that."
    Warren spat again, silent for a minute.
    "And what about you, Director?" he finally asked. "What are you supposed to be? A loyal man? A patriot? You were a lot of things during a lot of crises, Fury, but you were never a mook. Times really have changed."
    That shut Fury up for a second.
    "What do you want?" Warren finally asked, for the third and final time in the fifteen minutes.
    Fury rolled his eye upward in faux thought, stood up and walked over to Warren where he was shackled to the wall, and simply said, "Death."
    In an ironic echo, the man's hand reached out against Warren's jaw and viciously snapped it to the left, breaking it and killing Warren instantly. Fury stepped back for a minute and displayed his handiwork before pressing a button on the wall. The Tesla coil-like device that Warren was hooked to fizzed to life, crackling and burning his restraints. The smells of charred flesh and impending permanent physical damage kicked the ring into overdrive (something Fury had found in the old journals of Dr. Strange while cleaning out Ares' belongings) and Warren's body jerked backwards against the wall, head thrown back and skin shifting to a deep cerulean blue. The restraints started to shake and clatter around; given a few moments and the revived Warren would shatter them instantly.
    Fury didn't need a tenth of that time. In two easy movements he'd withdrawn a syringe from his coat pocket and jabbed it into Warren's heart, pulling back with all his might and quickly extracting a lighter, more iridescent blue substance. Warren's head jerked back again in a scream, no doubt giving him some form of whiplash and lasting concussion even as his skin faded back to a light, regular flesh tone. Fury pocketed the syringe with a low "God help us" and turned around. He stopped just short of the door and turned back.
    "You can leave at dawn," the Director said. "They found Hank McCoy's will. Turns out you have an Institute to run."
    Fury closed the door and walked up to the control room, flanked closely by Maria Hill and Phil Coulson. Time to report in.
    The ARCHANGEL Initiative was now in Phase II.
    OOC: One last wrapup comes tomorrow. For now, please enjoy/feel free to use discussion to speculate/stuff.

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  • Posted 2013-07-25 05:59:32 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • IC:


    "Fury. Fuuuurrrrry. Or any other higher-ranking-than-me person in SHIELD's hierarchy. Hello....?" Erin called through his task pad, having already set up a comm line. "I need a medic over here, and so do a few others, and this convenient store doesn't even have enough superglue to hold a clod of sand together. Hellloooooooooooo."


    Erin sighed, setting the task pad on the table. "Really, where's an Asgardian when you need him? Or an old lady with a sewing kit. Both would be equally useful right now."

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  • Posted 2013-07-25 06:20:59 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • OOC: Thought I'd make one last post just to wrap up a couple characters I've changed my mind about.


    IC: Reptilian


    In the darkest corner of Manhattan, something twitched. It was a tail--a long, scaly tail that clearly didn't belong to any of the city's local fauna. Its owner stirred in his sleep, accidentally kicking aside the maimed body of a Hydra soldier. His mind was filled with the visions of two different minds, a man and an animal fighting over the same body. The two were evenly matched, each pushing against the other with equal force, slipping occasionally but quickly righting themselves. The animal was hungry, not just for prey, but for blood. They would all die by his clawed hands for ruining his city, his territory...his hunting ground.

    The man, however, stood tall, deflecting the animal's ferocious ramblings with his own retorts. He was smarter than the animal, and he would win control through reason. But the more he thought, the better the pieces of the puzzle started to fit together. He hadn't seen his master since the attack started and had merely assumed they had been separated in the chaos. He might have settled with that, were it not for the fact that he hadn't received any sort of message or order, and he knew his master was too organized to let something like that slip up. Yes, the master always had a plan, and important people were only ever left to die for one reason.

    They didn't have a part in his plan.

    Once this last piece had been put in its proper place, it all made sense. Both the man and the animal cried out in frustration at their betrayal. They stopped their quarreling and faced each other, agreeing to finally put the body to use. Huge muscles rippled, the tail rolled over and pushed against the ground, and powerful legs hoisted the mass of reptilian flesh up off of the ground. He was no longer Earl Greystone the Black Bishop, nor was he Reptilian, vicious killing machine and Shaw's lapdog. Before, he had pushed his feral side down, kept it buried in the deepest pits of his psyche. Now, however, he let it rise, let it occupy its proper space in his mind alongside him. Now, the two worked in unison, man and animal, hunter and predator, reason and rage.

    As any predator stalks its prey, they would find Shaw, and they would devour him piece by presumptuous, traitorous piece.


    IC: Jackson


    Someone was yelling in German. Okay, that was something. What else? Oh yeah, that guy was dead. That guy who'd helped him find his identity, the guy who'd taken him in after he'd lost his purpose, was now lying on the floor, blood trickling like a miniature waterfall from the exit wound the bullet had created in his head.

    Okay, that was two somethings.

    The shouting German guy was a Hydra soldier, judging by the logo on his helmet, which meant that the two goons holding him were probably with Hydra, too. Heir Shouts-a-lot hit him in the face with the handle of a pistol, eliciting a resounding clang from his adamantium skull. His captors flinched, but it wasn't long before a gloved hand was gripping his face tightly, while another pointed the barrel of the pistol at the corpse.

    "Who is that?" the owner of those hands demanded in a thick (surprise surprise) German accent.

    Jackson recognized that shakiness in his voice. The Hydra guy was clearly afraid, and he couldn't be blamed.

    "It's not important," the former Weapon mumbled, only to be met with another blow to the face. The resultant sound resonated through his skull. He grunted, though it did little to describe the agony his brain experienced as it bounced around inside his head.

    "Who is that?" the soldier demanded once more.

    "I never caught his full name," Jackson finally admitted once the pain had subsided. "Fitzroy-something. He never told me where he was from or anything. Just kind of made me run errands for him."

    Satisfied, the soldier nodded at his two comrades, who pushed Jackson down to his knees. Three shots were fired, but the ringing in Jackson's skull prevented him from hearing the third. He blacked out in moments, not dead, but very, very dazed.

    When he came to, the mooks were gone. He managed to prop himself up against the wall, but his head lazily rolled down until Fitzroy-something's body was in the center of his vision. He took in a deep breath and sighed. His eyes closed and he turned his head skyward.

    "Aw, Christ."


    OOC: Okay that's it. No more, I promise. :P

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  • Posted 2013-07-26 00:50:27 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • Tali sighed and looked down at the scars on her hands, standing and stepping out into the hall.Might as well try. Worst thing was he could say no.She turned, running around the corner before she could lose her courage-And bumped into him."Crud."That's no language for a lady," Dallas snarked, leaning against the wall and brushing off the place where Tali's face had bumped into his chest. "Here, let me get outta your way before you rip a hole through my chest and climb through it or something."Tali blushed. "I kinda ran out of expletives a long time ago.""Oh, I was meaning to ask...Um...""Y-y-yesss?" Dallas drew out casually as he slouched down against the wall."Wouldyouwantogotoarestaurantwithme?""I hate Oriental cuisine and I'm iffy on Mexican.""But if you're asking me if I'll be the hot guy that you take with you for dinner and some drinks, then yes.""Everyone here is being -painfully- mopey."Tali smiled uncertainly.That's not to say that she was uncertain, the smile was."Um, well, what places do you like?""What places do you like?"She blushed. "Um, I don't know of that many restaurants, but Panera Bread?""Coincidence abounds. I like Panera too," Dallas yawned, which was the Ultimate chronokinetic's way of crying out "MARRY ME YOU HIPSTER GODDESS" without looking like a romantic or a punk. He took a couple casual steps forward, posture straightening into that of the weary, sarcastic deputy he'd first entered this universe as. His heels clicked against the sterile, cold floors of the Institute for a couple seconds before he turned on his heel and held out his arm for Tali."You coming, or what?"Tali caught up and grabbed his arm, blush fading slightly before coming back. "Definitely."Dallas led Tali out to the parking lot and scanned for his stolen BMW. He scanned...and scanned...and scanned...and..."There it is!" he sighed with a heavy phew as he led her towards the sport sedan. "I was worried some jagoff stole it."Tali smiled and got in, buckling up. "This is...""Totally illegal."She raised an eyebrow. "I stopped worrying about illegal a long time ago.""This," Dallas commented through a bite of chocolate croissant, "is the best on the planet, by the way."Tali blinked. "You did time manipulation, didn't you.""I don't like driving a stolen vehicle with a lady in the car. I might say something I regret to a weekend warrior whose only alternative is playing with his own...radar gun."Tali walked her fingers up Dallas' arm, smiling slightly. "It wouldn't have bugged me.""Cops don't bug you? Jesus, I'm not sure if this is gonna work out, then...""No, swearing.""Oh. Good.""Then you'll do fine."She smiled wider and picked up her sandwich taking a bite and swallowing. "Glad to hear it. I was worried that this was just making up for... You know.""Me. Abandoning you to die," Dallas rolled his eyes, plucking one of Tali's chips from her plate. "Don't worry about it. You're Ultimate. I'm Ultimate. We were practically made for each other."Julia was Ultimate, too, but Dal didn't feel like thinking about her. Not right now. Not after her second disappearing act. Wait, no. Third. Fourth. Fifth. The more guys Dallas thought about her hooking up with, the higher the numbers rolled up to."Two people from the same dimension trapped in a different one? If that doesn't qualify...""Then what else does?""Right!" Tali paused for a second and started giggling for the first time in years.Dallas was quiet for a few seconds, debating the ways he could snark or belittle Tali for her atypical display of girlishness, before just smirking, shaking his head with a quick breath that could pass for a laugh, and holding her hand under the table.She blushed and squeezed his hand. "One line away from being really cheesy.""I'm not a cheesy guy.""I know. Because if you had said 'We even finish each other's sentences', I would have assumed you were an alien.""I -promise- you I will do nothing of the sort."Tali nodded. "Good. And I promise not to be a ##### about things in the past.""Good. Now, just repeat that into this cell phone so I can hold it against you at all times."Tali leaned over to whisper into Dallas' ear. "Blackmail is illegal, you know.""So is car theft," he replied quickly and quietly, his lips brushing the top of her ear. "Do I look scared to you."Tali smiled, trying to ignore the thrill going down her spine."Was making sure you hadn't lost your nerve.""Lost my nerve? Moi? Dallas Green? The man who once tried to face down a squadron of Nebraskan Phalanx with nothing but a wink and a hair flip, and -still- made it to the extraction point first?"..."You've still got your spunk, Tali."Tali lowered her voice to the point where Dallas could barely hear it, her lips touching his ear gently. "Aliens can't take me from me. Want me to prove it?""In public? Of course I do."Tali blushed again, her cheek brushing against Dallas' as she backed away until she was looking into his eyes from a few inches away. "Not here, but...""Somewhere, then," Dallas promised. "How about the backseat of a stolen car? That's where Bonnie and Clyde fell for each other."Another chill went down her spine, and she blushed, nodding.Tali kissed Dallas gently, a small sound coming from her mouth. "Well?""Well, I have -lunch- to finish," he whispered centimeters away from her as he tilted his head at a half-eaten sandwich and a full bag of chips. "But I can eat around you. I'm a man of many layers."Tali's balance was still kind of off from leaning over to Dallas, so the Ultimate reached out and pulled her into his lap, tracing her soft jawline before reaching around her back with one hand and pulling open the bag of chips."And I'm a heck of a multitasker to boot."Tali smiled and leaned into him, nuzzling his neck. "Feel like I ate too fast. You're only half done.""Well, whut can y' do?" Dallas replied with a full mouth, holding the remaining half of his sandwich in his teeth as he leaned back against the cushioned chair outside. There were all manners of booths and tables set up, but you didn't get many peaceful summer days in the Westchester he came from anymore and he was, admittedly, enjoying himself -a little.- The entire outside patio was theirs to enjoy; the umbrella blocked out most of the sun from shining into their eyes while allowing a bit of light and warmth to seep in through the side that Dallas was currently holding Tali to.They were stuck in this universe until Cerebro started working again, and without Beast or this universe's Ashlynn no one knew how long that would take. They lived here for the time being. In that moment the loss became acceptable, even if it was fleetingly so; he felt like he had a home again, not a ruin with his name on it. A kid again, instead of a soldier. Dallas Green felt like Dallas Green again, and for a second, he didn't have it in him to be a dick.It faded fast."Y'know," he continued, mouth still full, "that wash shuposhed to be the shignal for y' to h'lp me finish thish shandwich.""I would, but it seems you have it stuffed in your mouth. Or..." Tali bit off the quarter of the sandwich that wasn't in Dallas' mouth. "'Ow I'm jush ash ard to undershand as y'."Dallas gulped down the rest of his sandwich so that he could laugh and brush a few of the crumbs away from Tali's lips onto the pavement. When she swallowed they both stared at each other for a second, into high voltage electric blues and sweetest emerald greens, and Dallas leaned forward and kissed her on an impulse."I'm sorry.""Dal--""No, you need to hear me say it. I asked for your help when I shouldn't have on an off-the-record mission that went against policy. I misled you, used your feelings to help me out. I walked you into a warzone. And then I left you behind. So I'm sorry."Tali fell silent for a minute, looking into Dallas' eyes. The guarded expression was back, one she'd developed when every part of her was under attack.The slightest bit of wetness started to accumulate under her eyes.After a few more agonizing moments, the water turned to tears. Tears that started running down her scarred face, Tears that would smear mascara, if she wore it. She smiled and kissed Dallas deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck."That-that's all I needed to hear... I completely forgive you."Dallas smiled back and squeezed Tali tightly by the abdomen, relieved tears of his own clinging to the inside of his eyelids as he kissed her back fervently, hair falling over one eye and hand slipping down her back.Tali's eyes opened up to make a joke and grin, but was met with the sight of leather seats and the sun's rays reflecting off the rear window of the BMW. Dallas' eyes opened up, bright blue mirrors into a tormented, enigmatic soul, and they shrugged with the innocence of a child.Her smile widened and she blushed slightly, moving his hands to her hips. This felt so right.. For the first time in years, something felt good.Dallas shrugged with his eyebrows and then kissed her again gently, hanging onto her bottom lip with his teeth for a second before pulling away and grinning."What can I say? I'm a good guy."It took him a second to realize she hadn't spoken out loud.Tali blushed. "I didn't think empaths could read minds.""Huh," Dallas mumbled as he thoughtfully brushed some of Tali's bangs away from her face. "I didn't know empaths could read minds, either.""So... So this is the first time?" A deeper kiss this time and Tali put her finger to Dallas' mouth. "Don't say what I was thinking just then. It's embarrassing.""I won't. Your secret is safe with me."Tali placed her finger against Dallas' lips casually and the chronokinetic telepath(?) grinned, biting down on his bottom lip coyly."God, you're hot. Have you always been this hot?"Tali shrugged, acting like she wasn't about to wrap her legs around him and... Well... "I don't know... Maybe the Phalanx gave me some kinda self confidence?" She rolled her eyes and looked into Dallas'. "Or I could have always been and I just never had a reason to show it.""Well, I -like- hot Tali," Dallas drawled, flipping over and laying down along the backseat, holding Tali to his chest with his right arm as his left went creeping up her shirt and traced her navel. His thin mouth formed a pursed, self-assured little pouting smirk as his fingertips met her supple abdomen. "She sounds like she knows how to have a good time."Tali smiled. Well, there's one way to find out if she has bite as well as bark.She leaned forward, kissing Dallas, while her fingers moved to the hem of his shirt...
    OOC: And with that, Ultimate Dallas and Ultimate Tali are done.

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  • Posted 2013-07-26 03:05:16 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • IC:


    California's Worthington Tower. West Coast base of operations for Worthington Industries. Three weeks after HYDRA attack on New York City.
    The TV in the Worthington Industries boardroom was crystalline in quality and had sound you'd expect from an orchestra; its top-of-the-line specifications were being totally wasted on the press conference unfolding before the eyes of Alaric Carlisle and Annie Worthington, respectively CEO/Chairman of the Board and President of the megacorporation. Ric snorted derisively in laughter as newly announced Presidential candidate and newspaper mogul J. Jonah Jameson stepped forward to answer questions from the press corps. Their guest at the end of the table opposite the twins smiled too. Annie just watched stoically as, on the screen, Jameson detailed his plan to run away with a victory in the special Presidential election after the untimely death of Vice President Ocalan in the HYDRA attack on New York.


    "I kept up with The Daily Bugle's website in high school," Ric told his sister with a wry smirk. "Never learned anything from it I hadn't already known for a week. And now he's gonna be President."
    "Uhuh," Annie said, not quite as vigorously intrigued as her brother. She instead just continued to look at the television.
    "What about you, Mr. Pulliam?" Alaric asked the man down the table. "I know you've seen a few Presidents in your day. What do you think?"
    "A few Presidents," Jace Pulliam, White King of the Hellfire Club, conceded with an easy smile. "Never any great ones. Doesn't look like that's changing any time soon."
    Alaric had requested the presence of the highest ranking member of the New York Hellfire Club to meet him on ground outside New York, his own West Coast headquarters, where he thought himself safe. Jace smiled at that naivety but let him think he was in charge anyway. As Worthingtons, the brother and sister before him were lifelong members of the club as their parents had been, and as any children they had would be, and their children, and their children, and so on and so forth. When they had asked for the man closest to being in charge, it had fallen to Jace: Shaw had fled, Katherine was long dead, and there had not been a Black Queen since before Jace's recruitment. When the subject was touched upon with Sebastian, the man would only say he had a plan, which annoyed him to no end but did not mean much in the end. Just as he was untouchable to Shaw, Shaw was untouchable to him; the two had always existed in symmetry, each mirroring the other but neither daring to cross a certain line drawn in the middle.
    And now Sebastian had cut and run, and Jace was stuck handling a couple new kids on the block who thought holding a boardroom coup and reclaiming Daddy's old playground made them kings. But whatever.
    "I must say, Mr. Carlisle, Mrs. Worthington, I was surprised to hear your new titles. How did you convince the board of directors to put you two in charge so...abruptly?"
    "We didn't," Alaric replied lazily. "We killed them and hired new ones from there."
    Jace smiled to himself, probably expecting Ric to crack up and laugh, but there was no such reaction; now that the TV was nothing more than dull noise in the background, like the buzz of a carpenter bee, his attitude had metamorphosed with the change in atmosphere. Instead of grinning or snickering he merely smiled with one corner of his mouth, as did Annie; the two's expressions clicked together in a larger smile, laced with a casual calm like they were discussing what restaurant they could attend upon the meeting's conclusion instead of the implied murder of nearly a dozen men.
    "Aaaaactually, all I wanted to do was play with them, but they broke like little Chinese toys," Annie said, audibly disappointed. "They more or less killed themselves for not saving their backs when they had the chance."
    "I'm sure you of all people can understand," Ric finished for her with that same controlled, calm half smile. Jace raised both eyebrows but said nothing and shrugged lazily.
    "So, then. What can the Hellfire Club and I do for the new regime?"
    "Resources, Mr. Pulliam," Annie said matter-of-factly from her seat beside Alaric, casually glaring at Jace sidelong as though he were a morsel and she a particularly peckish cat.
    "We need more of them to achieve our own aims," the hyperkinetic told the White King. "We appreciate your assistance in keeping this manner discreet, but unfortunately for everyone in this room and a few people outside it discretion is not all we need to succeed. Your Inner Circle holds several of the answers to that particular gap."
    He and Annie shared a knowing glance, and Ric nodded after a second, smiling in full now and showing the barest hint of his teeth.
    "We want in."
    Jace blinked several times. Surely this little whelp must be joking. Nobody just got in to the Hellfire Club inner circle - okay, well, he had, but that was thanks in no small part to his old lover Katherine and all the strings that she had pulled with Shaw on his behalf - just by telling one of the Kings they wanted in. There were still processes to go through.
    "You want in."
    "I hope that's not a problem?" Annie piped up inquisitively, then paused. "I get that the 'Carlisle' surname might be a trick, but I know that /my/ surname is a long-respected one. There... isn't any problem, is there?"
    "I do hate unexpected problems..." Ric trailed off.
    "Yes, actually, that is a problem. Your family is in good standing with the club, but so too are thousands of families across branches around the world. They do not get special access to the Club's inner workings. They don't get any secrets they haven't earned, and you two haven't earned anything so far. You think a couple vague allusions to murders which may or may not have happened gives you power? Gives you sway? You're wrong. You have no sway. You have no power. You don't hold a tenth of the cards that you think you do, sir, madam."
    The twins were silent for a second before Annie spoke.
    "These are not allusions, Jace," Annie said as she leaned forward and stared at the screen with intent ebony eyes. "And I don't think I or we have to prove anything to you. We are not in a testing field, the time for trials are long past, and now we're here. I'm not knocking at the door begging for entry and -- so don't be mislead to consider that.
    I don't knock at doors, I don't ring bells, I don't beg for admittance. I never have. I don't expect whatever I point at to be mine because despite my last name I've lived a life wherein I have to claw my way to the top to claim what is rightfully mine or not. I did that to get where I am now, and you bet I can do it again to get where you are there. I'll earn what I want, and that is not an empty threat or a vacant bluff, that's a promise that I can keep."
    Jace was silent for a long moment, midnight-and-gold eyes scanning Annie intently but neutrally before flicking to Alaric.
    "And you?"
    Good question.
    "I'm not the important one here. All we're asking for is you, and your assistance," he assured Jace. "Whatever you invest in us will be repaid a hundredfold down the line, I assure you. You--"
    "--Are not for sale," Jace finished. "Nor are seats on the Hellfire Club."
    "That would be disappointing to hear if it weren't already expected of you," Annie said. "Regardless, we can make arrangements."
    "You sound like you're going right over my head, Mrs. Worthington."
    "Hmm? Right over your head? What do you think, Ric, are we?"
    "We may be, dear sister."
    "That's a shame..."
    "...because we were aiming for right under it," Ric finished as he and Annie both pressed buttons underneath their desks. With both authorization alerts given, the chair Jace was sitting in activated, sending blades shooting out from the space near the headrest and decapitating Jace instantly. His face didn't even have time to look shocked; it rolled into his lap and hit the floor. The impact turned the skull and flesh into a cloud of blood and ash instantly. The rest of his body followed, slipping away like sand blown out of a child's hand; with no life to support it the extreme age of Jace's body sent it crumbling away into nothingness.
    "That could have gone better," Ric said to Annie.
    "Actually, I was just playing with him..." Annie said, disappointed, as her thought trailed off.
    "The people you play with end up dead, Annie," Alaric sighed heavily without more than a subtle twinge of regret to his tone as he stared at the space where Jace was sitting enigmatically with blue eyes that did not hold their usual ultramarine glow. Slowly, one hand went to the intercom and pressed down on the button.
    "Lacey?" Ric summoned. "Send a cleaning crew to Conference Room One. Oh, and, er...did you take our visitor's jacket?"
    "Y-yes, Mr. Carlisle," the intrepid reply came.
    "Ric," he corrected gently. "Bring it in too, please."
    There were several moments of silence in which neither twin spoke. In the moments since Jace's death, Jonah Jameson's voice had died away and ABC was now airing a preview of the next Bachelorette.
    "I shouldn't have done that."
    Annie shrugged slightly and tugged at her hair playfully.
    The door to the conference room opened and a young receptionist, a lithe brunette in her early twenties or so, stepped inside with a black-trimmed white jacket on a hangar precariously wrapped around one finger. Alaric smiled thinly at her and then walked over with whatever grace he could muster to pluck it from the hangar. With a nod and a murmured "thank you," he dismissed her and strolled over to the window, resting his head against the cool glass. Numbly he realized that a single bead of sweat had stated at his temple, at the base of his hair, and had started to roll down before being sandwiched by the side of his head and the glass. With a deep breath he took a couple steps back and slid on the jacket, doing the two buttons before straightening it and looking at his own reflection. With the sun's glare and the new clothing it made his appearance look slightly warped, demonic; he turned away after a couple internally excruciating seconds to look at Annie and hold both of his arms forward at about waist level.
    "What do you think? Do I look Kingly?" he asked, putting a wry emphasis on the last word and holding any bitterness by the leash.
    Annie had gotten up and stepped to a corner of the room. When Alaric asked his question she leaned on the wall and folded her arms in disinterest as she surmised the look. She slid her tongue on her incisors and slowly sucked through them before she said, "Meh. That coat makes you look fat."
    Temporarily snapped out of his indecision, Ric looked up at his sister with furrowed brows and then back down at the coat before unbuttoning it and sliding his hands under his black v, patting his abs like he was attempting to make sure they were still there. Then he looked down at the unbuttoned jacket again; after a second he moved back to the intercom and buzzed it, not speaking. After a couple seconds, the secretary returned.
    "Yes, Mr. Car--err...Ric?"
    "Lacey," he instructed, "I need you to find me a blazer like this, in black."
    He shot a glance back at Annie, who was examining her nails casually, then he looked back to the secretary, still waiting to see if there was anything else. Slowly, he bit his lip and then sighed incredulously.
    "See if you can find something tighter, too," he mouthed.



  • Edited on 2013-07-26 03:05:56 by Dallas Winston
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  • Posted 2013-07-26 05:12:58 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • IC:


    One. Two. Shift.


    One. Two. Shift.


    The figure brushed back his hair, watching as strands turned from blue to brown and back to blue. It was strange, watching it change without the rest of his body following suit - could it be that he had begun to achieve greater control of whatever his powers truly entailed? Was he becoming capable of doing something more than he previously could?


    "Did the hospital inject me with super drugs?" wondered Gabriel, the genderbender lying back against the grass. "Was it secretly an Enforcer facility?"


    Things were so confusing these days; and he had barely gotten out of New York alive. Was there something about his luck that he would always crash into a major metropolitan area that would inevitably be attacked? Which was the independent variable? Him, or the city?


    His phone rang.


    It was a shock, hearing the device; nobody had called him for ages, and it had fallen into disuse over the months. Who would be calling him at such a time.




    "Hey little sis ... okay bro ... you sound deeper today, I got fired; wanna go to Hawaii?"


    Gabriel nearly dropped his phone in shock.


    "Michael?!" he asked, flabbergasted. "Why ... why are you even calling me?"


    "I felt like it; we haven't seen each other since I joined the military," was the amused reply. "Come on, it'll be fun going on vacation. Some sibling bonding time, you see?"


    The genderbender sighed. "Alright, where do we meet up?"




    A massive machine crashed to the earth, spraying dirt all over Gabriel. He coughed, covering his eyes as the dust breezed past him. Seconds later, he blinked, clearing his eyes as he stared up at the titanic thing in front of him.


    "You have a giant robot?!" he nearly shouted, looking to his phone.


    The older man that jumped out of the machine's cockpit shrugged. "I'm military. Now come on - let's go pick up chicks."

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  • Posted 2013-07-26 20:05:02 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • The shuttle hit some turbulence, but Natalie hardly noticed.


    Too many people had been taken down.


    First Howard, then they'd seen Noel eviscerated, and then James was shot.


    She leaned against Brando, head resting on his shoulder.


    "Yes, sir. Yes, Director, I--yes, Director, /I know./ I'm well...yes, sir, I'm well aware of the ramifications for this. I--yes. Alright, fine. Where are we reporting to? What? Sorry, Director, turbulence," Brando was saying into his earpiece, trying not to be heard by the surviving Avengers. "Yes, Director. Alright. See you there. Barton out."


    Natalie nestled her head into Brando's shoulder forlornly and the marksman sighed deeply, putting his arms around her stomach and holding her.


    "This could be a career killer."Brando's hands touched her abdomen.


    Natalie flinched, responding to an instinct to defend herself from whatever-Her conscious mind registered who it was, and that reflex was replaced with a feeling of complete and utter safety.


    She relaxed, nestling into Brando's shoulder and drifting off to sleep.

  • Edited on 2014-02-03 06:35:35 by Shaquille O'Kaithas
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  • Posted 2013-07-27 00:30:44 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • IC


    The sound of footsteps on asphalt. The whistling of the wind as it blows along a deserted highway.


    Or was it her whistling?


    Angela had never been one for music, but it seemed appropriate now. If her life was a movie, this would be the part where the strings began to hum softly, and then crescendo as the camera panned into the setting sun.


    But this wasn't a movie; this was life. And Angela Dean's life had never been even remotely picturesque. Her pursed lips produced a raspy whistle that quickly faded into the emptiness of the afternoon, leaving her feeling more alone than before.


    The sun came out from behind a cloud; she pulled her baseball cap lower to shield her eyes.


    Turns out a precog isn't welcome anywhere. Forget normals – even mutants don't trust someone who knows the future. People could handle psychics, crazy nerds and shapeshifters, but prophecy? Precognition? Forget it. She was an outcast among outcasts, standing out as the freak even when lined up with all the other freaks.


    She didn't kid herself; she'd seen the looks people gave. Trust is out of the question when your present is twenty-one seconds ahead of everyone else's. The blonde teen folded her arms as the brisk wind kicked up again; clouds scurried across the sun, and the earth went grey.


    The past sucked, and the present was boring.


    That left the future.

  • Edited on 2013-07-27 00:49:46 by a self-referential name
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  • Posted 2013-08-05 02:45:13 UTC
    X-Men: Darkest Days
    View post on BZP
  • IC: Correi Sampson


    You know that moment when you realise you've done absolutely nothing for several months?


    Yeah, that was exactly what Correi was feeling.


    Mid-way through a burger, our heroine had been affected by such a realisation, which was why she was now sprawled onto her couch, wondering what the heck actually happened.


    "Wait, did I do ANYTHING useful?"

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