IC: Brianne reacted instinctively to the noise, disappearing as far as this girl was concerned. A slight note of worry crossed Brianne's face.New girlfriend? This could be awkward....
IC:
Ashley paused the ribbiting her cell phone was making and looked around in confusion for a moment, she could have sworn someone was there. "Dallas? Is that you?" She peeked out of the kitchen toward the doorway but found nothing. She shrugged. "It must of been a gremlin!" She turned the ribbiting back on and started placing more frogs in the sink.
IC: This is ridiculous. There's no way he's with her.Brianne clutched her son a little tighter.Maybe I should go. Doesn't look like he's here.
IC:
Ashley had a problem, frogs were suppose to swim, but all her origami frogs wanted to do was get all soggy in the sink. She'd lost some good frogs. She gave them a quick funeral and then drained them down the sink.
Done with that, Ashley decided she needed to find something else to do, Dallas had gone who knows where, he'd obviously skipped classes because Ashley never saw him. She decided to head into the bedroom, maybe clean up Dallas' mess, since he never seemed to clean up. She walked right past Brianne unknowingly and started to pick up random articles of laundry and toss them into a basket.
Suddenly she slipped on a DVD case, with a shriek she fell backwards, luckily the bed was right behind her and she landed on that.
John Harken- Middle of nowhere Nebraska
IC: The (inebriated?) driver of the buzz-saw adorned Humvee seemed to have decided that trees were no obstacle and driven right into the nearby forest. Unsurprisingly, they had shortly found out that some trees don't like to be chopped down and the vehicle slammed to a stop.
John stopped the car just outside the forest, the thing was hardly made to go four-wheeling, particularly at night. Getting out, he quietly made his way into the forest, coming up behind and on the driver's side of the Buzzvee.
Best to be careful with this, the fact that they managed to get their hands on something like this implies either HYDRA or else some other dangerous organization. Plus the drunken looking driving means that they probably wont be thinking straight.
His pistol was still in it's holster, right now it would get in the way more then it might help, while he slowly made his way up the side of the vehicle. Deciding not to act the secret agent for once, he rapped on the window and spoke up.
"Hey, are you alright in there?"
IC: With a roll of her invisible eyes, Brianne left the room.I'll come back later.IC: In the back of a black limo, windows tinted, Mr. Black sat next to his associate, the silence hanging heavy in the air. He withdrew a small phone from his pocket, and dialed a number from memory. It answered on the third ring."Mrs. Khan," he began. "I was told you had work."
IC Peter"Uh, Mr. Percival, I came to return that... Oh..."Peter had stepped into the classroom where a certain someone had folded a legion of origami frogs. Just as he was going to go work on his time machine, he had been hit by a swath of errands and was in the middle of carrying them out when he came across this. "This school is crazy," he thought to himself. Ten minutes later, Peter walked out the door ofnthe classroom with a big box of origami frogs in his arms. He had one more errand to do, and then it was off to his next class, to his duty to teach brilliant young minds... Yeah, right."Seriously though, why is this school so wacked out?" he muttered to himself as he walked through the halls. "I mean, we've got your usual share of high school issues, plus all the controversy surrounding mutants, and to put the cherry on top, half of these kids need psychiatric treatment! Mr. Worthington didn't say ANY of this in the job interview!" Continuing to vent his frustration, the future man placed the box of frogs next to the school's recycling unit. "The things I do to get by..." It wasn't that Peter Tyrell didn't like the place or its faculty; what other school would let a guy get a job here with no papers and qualifications from 80 years into the future? Joining the Xavier Institute science department as an intern teacher was probably the best choice that Peter made in this time period. However, there's only so much a guy can take and a year of living in what Peter had nicknamed the "madhouse" was starting to take its toll. Chasing down miscreants and ne'er do-wells, dealing with special needs students (the frog incident was just one of many), and the overall stress of being a teacher plus the need to deal with a super powered tantrum every now and then? "This school needs a psychologist," he muttered to himself.
IC (Borte Khan)
Borte, in the backseat of a limo of her own, picked up her own cellphone. The limo was sleek, black as midnight and, though it wasn't visable to the naked eye, packing enough armor to give most machine guns food for thought. "Mr. Black." Borte's voice was level, friendly even. "I thank you for your speed. It appears I have a slight problem. One of my shipments was hijacked by a few local thugs. They shot my guards and killed the driver. One of the guards will never walk again. I ask you to return the favor. Do you have any objections?"
IC; "None." He paused a moment, considering what he had to do."Where can I find them?"
IC (Borte Khan)
"They've gone to ground in a collection of condemned buildings on the outskirts of the city. Used to be known as the McLean farm. After the good senator went bankrupt, the property was up for grabs. No one grabbed. It's been decaying ever since. I expect their numbers to be in the low twenties. Burn them out if you must, but I would prefer a more personal touch. I will not tolerate attacks on my employees and I want that fact made clear to any other gangs in the area. You will receive the normal payment...." Borte paused for a second. "And when you have some vacation time, a condo in the Alps, as discussed in our previous meeting. Your services are very much apperciated Mr. Black."
IC: "Of course."Black ended the call, then told the driver where to go, before explaining the situation to Mr. White."I believe I can handle this one. And Mrs. Khan made it abundantly clear she'd like it to hurt."Mr. White nodded. While his power to manipulate neural impulses had a variety of uses, the only deaths it could cause were relatively quick and painless."Right. We'll stop just out of notice. You'll have to make your own way in but I doubt that will be a problem."The limo began to pull away as Black began removing his suit. It was Italian silk after all, and he'd rather it didn't tear.
IC:
John was surprised at first that her instinct was to hug him. He then hugged her back. "I missed you sis." he said as his cyan eyes filled with emotion. It was good seeing someone he knew from his past life after an entire year of unfamiliar faces.
"I came here looking for answers about my dad. It seems he worked for The Hand for a time. I'm not sure why. I agreed to join them. My first test was to kill your sensei and bring Danna Kinney in for recruitment. I had no idea it was you." John said as he finally pulled away.
"I can't and I won't do it. I won't bring you in against your will. I won't kill your sensei. Information about my father's past isn't worth me becoming an assassin again. I already went through this with Weapon-X."
John looked around the room. "We have to leave Japan Julia. And soon. The Hand won't be happy if I don't return and bring you back and your sensei's head. We're both in danger now. These are powerful people here."
IC:
"People of the world, people of the Internet, Homo sapiens, homo superior..."
In one man's private library, this phrase repeated endlessly, in perfect-quality surround sound. Glass clinked, the reporting paused, and then started again, turned back to the point at which Cynegild Picker's day had become even slightly more interesting.
Homo superior.
This little twit had the nerve to stand in the Flavian Amphitheatre, one of the ancient world's greatest monuments to the raw power of ambition, and preach the same drivel that disaffected bloggers the world over had been reposting for years - the same childish ultimatums, the same insistence on sappy, counter-productive thinking. It was good theatre, to be sure - lions in aprons, indeed! - but that didn't stop the headache that built throughout Lord's speech, starting behind the eyes and spreading until...
Homo superior.
He'd actually said it. The two-faced, Double-speaking cretin had the gall to stand there, preach equality, and in the very next breath mention that tripe, that foolish claim to a birthright, to inherent superiority just because you had an extra toe. At first, Cynegild had considered throwing the bottle at the screen - to be sure, both were expensive, but stress relief had value incalculable. For just a moment, he'd reached for the Chianti... and then he'd smiled.
The lying twit preached egalitarianism and divine, genetic right in the same breath.
Dominik Lord demanded equal rights, fair treatment, and told you to your face that he thought he was better than you because he was born lucky.
Dominik Lord ruined Cynegild Picker's lunch with his nonsense, offended the man three times in as many minutes, and was more worried about black helicopters. Clearly, something had to be done - something subtle, it wouldn't do to make a martyr of someone. Egg to the face, in this day, was far more deadly than a bullet to the temple. The key thing was resources - Cynegild had never seen the need of hiring a publicist, as the avoidance of publicity was the very thing that had allowed him so much fun in his life. Someone else would need to be in on this, someone with the people, the blind, adoring followers that would get the ball...
Ah.
Homo superior, indeed.
Whistling a merry tune, Cynegild sent a message, striking the keypad with light, dancing fingers.
<<Ave, Imperator. This populist twaddle has ruined my lunch. We need to talk.>>
IC: Thunderbolt
For a run-of-the-mill agent of SHIELD, albeit one with the ability to throw lightning, Mikhail's uniform was surprisingly flashy. If he had considered himself a superhero of some sorts, then it would have been perfectly fine for him to wear a belt across his shirt, but there was absolutely no excuse for a simple suit to really take on his clothes. However, he was currently wearing a rather nondescript set of clothes, having wisely decided that turning up as backup with a bucket hat on was absolutely inexcusable.
The tanned man leaned back into the seat of John's car, carefully surveying the area outside the forest. He may not have been able to see his fellow agent, but from his position, he could probably be able to catch anyone who went into the forest after the other SHIELD member.
And if he didn't catch anyone?
He supposed that trying a Captain Marvel couldn't hurt.
IC
Rene was in the process of following Dal on his quest to find Card when a familiar voice came from behind him.
"Mr LeBeau. A word."
For a moment, he contemplated slipping out of there faster than Miley Cyrus' tongue could slip out of her mouth, but he turned around instead, his heart sinking. As he'd suspected, it was Dr Thomas. All business as usual, with those brown eyes that could melt your soul. Not in the gooey way, but in the I'm-literally-going-to-melt-your-soul way.
"My office, please."
He followed the counsellor into her office, which was dominated by a desk with a single manila folder on it. Two chairs, one on either side. Rene took a seat in one, took an exaggerated look around, and then,
"You need an interior decorator in here, stat. No pictures, and those curtains don't match these chairs at a-"
"Thank you, Mr. LeBeau." Dr Thomas seated herself opposite him and opened the folder, each movement precise and calculated. In an effort to balance out the room, the teenage kinetopath sprawled out on his chair, hanging one leg over an arm. It was important to keep chaos and order all balanced out. The counsellor looked at him, but said nothing, instead continuing to peruse the folder.
Finally, he broke the silence. "Well, doc, you know I don't mind spending time with you, but if you wanna just hang out we could go grab a coffee or somethi-"
"Thank you for the offer, Mr LeBeau, but we'll stay here." She closed the folder and sat back, looking at the student over her glasses.
"You've been attending the Xavier Institute for little over a year now." It wasn't a question. "During that time, you've passed two classes: History and Physical Education. You failed the others due to a lack of attendance. Being a legal adult now, there's no obligation for you to remedy this, but-"
"Hold on, doc," Rene interrupted, sitting up. "You know I never went to school. I've been living on the streets all my life, I'm no good at math or writing essays-"
"That may be so," Dr Thomas replied, taking back command of the conversation. "But you're a bright young man, Mr LeBeau, and I hate to see you waste your potential."
"Potential?" The teenager laughed. "Come on, I know potential like nobody else. I can turn potential energy into kinetic energy, doc. You know that."
"I am indeed aware of that," The counsellor patiently continued. "Your genetic traits are impressive, but they're genetic. There's much more to life than your mutation."
Rene folded his arms rather sullenly.
"While it's true that men and women with the X-gene are permitted to remain at the Institute for as long as they like, I want to encourage you to discover a life in the outside world. You've already proven yourself capable of holding down a job, and you're fortunate in that your phenotype isn't immediately obvious. You are quite capable of living a normal life, Rene."
"What if I don't want to?"
"That's your choice. If you like, you can live here for the rest of your life. But I would encourage you to think about it. What do you like to do? What are you interested in? Think beyond your abilities, Mr LeBeau: you are much more than your mutation."
"Are we done now?"
"If you like."
"Sweet. See ya, doc."
The kinetopath pulled the door open and left with a slight breeze trailing behind him.
IC:On the way to the cafeteria, Alex's gait slowed, for just a moment, rapidly picking up speed again.Something was amiss, there was an unknown data signature in the dorms. It wasn't there in the morning when he got up, but it was there now. He withdrew his phone from his pocket, taking it out of hibernation. In truth, he didn't really need it, but it was far easier to manipulate data using a wifi enabled device as a conduit. A quick consultation with the front office revealed that no one had checked in this morning as a visitor, which meant one of two things. Either the new signal was a member of the school... Or they were an intruder.How could he tell?Simple. Most people didn't realize it, but everywhere they went, they carried around a traceable, identifiable digital more or less unique to them. Their cell phones. Beyond mere numbers, the accounts they used, the websites they visited, everything they did differentiated one from another, and they became more unique the longer they were used. Much like a psychic might monitor the world around them by checking for minds, Alex monitored by watching for digital signals.Tapping into the unknown device's GPS, he could tell that they were in a hallway on the second floor. Dorms. That was a bit concerning, though it did indicate that they might be a student...The technopath's route was raking him close to the psychologist's office, just as Rene was leaving. Almost unconsciously, he did his best to use Dallas to block him from view. A talk with the good doctor was the last thing he needed right now. Taking a moment to tag the unknown phone in his database, and mentally watching its path, he started to put away his phone away again, pausing only a moment to check for any new messages. There weren't any, of course. There hadn't been for twelve months, not since the last one he sent...Shaking his head, he put the device back in his pocket."So, Dallas, what have you been up to?"
IC: Julia
Julia nodded. It wouldn't be the first time she had a few highly-trained assassins hunting her down. Almost unconsciously, she fiddled with the locket, running her thumb back and forth across its surface.
"Right. Okay."
There was no point in stopping back at her apartment--she only really kept her clothes there, so everything she valued (cellphone, Jiu Jitsu gear, laptop, passport) was safely stowed away within her duffel bag.
“Let’s just go to the airport,” she said. “You do know where the airport is, right?”
IC:
"Of course I know where the airport is," John smirked. "I had to use it to get to Japan afterall. Its not like I swam all the way here." he said jokingly. John then gripped the handles of his adamantium katana before wrenching them out of the floor. In a flourish he raised them over his head and slid them into the sheaths resting against the back of his shoulders.
"Alright let's get going. The Hand will know something is up soon." John said. He turned to Julia's sensei and then gave a slight bow.
<<I apologize for the trouble.>>
IC:
Yawn.
The institute lately had been sooooo boring. Even with Dallas back Nicole was still bored. He mainly spent his time with Ashley anyway. The blonde had spent most of the morning laying in bed not doing much of anything except listening to music. She finally pulled herself out of bed and walked over to her mirror. She applied some makeup and brushed her long blonde locks before exiting her room. She glanced around the hall as she left the girls dorms and headed down the large staircase to see if anyone was around.
OOC: Nicole open for interaction within the institute.
IC:
Matt lifted the metal bar upwards before placing it on the rack. He then sat up on the bench and wiped his forehead with a small white towel. This is what he did when he wasn't playing football or basketball, or working, or helping Aleks out with his class. He worked out. Matt was pretty much always doing something physical. Aleks' class had been a real help lately too since Matt's new mutation. His power had completely changed. Once he'd controlled plasma, now he blasted kinetic energy.
The one positive side to Matt's new power was that he no longer was a ticking time bomb. There was no threat that he'd possibly explode. Matt got to his feet and exited the training room. He walked down the metal hallway of the basement level. It had been very quiet down here since the X-Men had disbanded. Matt sort of missed the X-Men. He missed fighting on a team and fighting for a good cause.
The teen thought about changing out of his slightly sweaty white tank-top but decided he was too lazy. Matt's stomach suddenly rumbled slightly. He patted a hand against his abs as he took the stairs up to the first floor of the school. He then walked directly towards the cafeteria. Matt suddenly stopped when he saw Aleks' sitting at a table with someone who hadn't been around in a long time.
"Christine?"
IC:
Cynegild read the Imperator's reply, and tapped out a quick confirmation that the suggested meeting place would be acceptable if the meeting could take place within the next three hours. The old Roman's insistence on in-person communication for matters like this was sensible, but there were times when his grasp of modern life and technology was somewhat unnerving - Cynegild rather doubted that most people around a few thousand years past their time would grasp the possibility of the interception of electronic communications.
After powering the computer down, Cynegild waited patiently for final confirmation of the meeting schedule, and prepared a checklist for his departure. The armor was simply not optional, but the knives, gun, and mace would be more likely to irritate the Roman than to be useful. The phone was, of course, indispensable for a meeting like this, but the novelty Genghis Khan bobblehead really couldn't be justified this time.
IC: Julia
Obuzābā grimaced and waved John away.
<<Don't worry about it,>> he said.
Julia didn't hesitate. She had already taken off down the sidewalk, glancing back every now and then to make sure John was following.
IC:
"I am alright Aella," Trinity said, clutching at her head. She wasn't bleeding, thank goodness for that. At the sound of someone outside of the car, Trinity froze and stared out the window, watching carefully.
"Aella, what do we do?" Trinity whispered, glancing back at Aella.
IC:
"Oh, you know, sleeping around, showering, painting, eating. Regular people things," Dallas said nonchalantly. "I think I've gone to like six classes all semester. Ashley slides the work under my dorm and comes by again the next day, and it's done. It's pretty foolproof, but it doesn't leave me with a lot of motivation to do...a lot of things, actually. Somewhat related: do you think the stubble's a good look for me?"
-Tyler
IC:"It's about as good for you as Casper white is for my skin tone. Make of that what you will."
IC Peter"Okay, for my last errand, I need to deliver these files to Dr. Thomas?" Walking through the hallway of the school towards the psychologist's office, he caught sight of two people walking in the hallway. He recognized one as Dallas Green - "Should I go give him a talking to?" Peter wondered to himself - but didn't recognize the other. "Oh well, it's almost time for my class," he mused. Walking up to the door, he briefly contemplated leaving the file outside the door, but decided against it - somebody could steal them after all - and knocked on Dr. Thomas' door.
IC
"Come in," Dr Thomas called, looking up from a neat stack of folders on her desk as the door opened.
"Mr Tyrell. Good to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
IC Peter"Hello Dr. Thomas. I was hit with a swath of errands, including," Peter said as he placed the file he was carrying on the counselor's desk. "They didn't tell me what this is, but assuming from the nature of the school R's probably not going to be stolen government secrets." Peter laughed nervously at that last remark."I know I've got a class to go teach, but I would like to talk to you about something. Specifically," Peter continued as he took an origami frog out of his pocket (he kept one). "Found over 200 of these in one of the lecture hall's. Definitely not normal."
IC: Breaking the glass so Dallas could remove the axe had succeeded in setting off a series of fire alarms, their shrill wailings piercing through wall and sealing. In a school where every second pupil had some sort of combustible or explosive super-power this sort of a stuff was a must or everyone would be dead a million times over.
Of course, said super-powers were also why no-one followed procedure to go outside and instead hurried towards the alarms, despite this being the exact opposite purpose of alarms, to see if they could help out with their mutant gifts. Alec was one such mutant, though had turned up more to switch the alarms off once it became clear someone was going all Overlook on the institute.
"Oh no, not you two," he said with comically exaggerated weariness after clapping eyes on the duo in the centre of the disruption, "Why is it always you two whenever there's trouble with axes?"
IC: Ethan Kigs, 'Doc'
Throughout the day, Ethan had not done much. Not much at all. It was surprising, given how often people ended up hurting themselves at the Institute (Or how he though people hurt themselves a lot). so, when the alarms went off, he was actually slightly...happy to have something to do.
Even if it was get caught on fire or help people who were on fire.
He hurried towards the nearest alarm and eventually got to a large group of students, centered around a few people. One of them was holding an axe.
Well, maybe it wasn't a fire. Maybe someone just wanted to go on an axe spree. He sighed, and started pushing his way through the crowd. "Excuse me, pardon me, coming through", Ethan said while traveling through the fray.
IC:
"That's stereotyping against people who travel through other dimensions," Kristen said, cracking a smile, "And in my defense, I've never touched an axe in my life."
IC
Dr Thomas opened her mouth to speak, but was cut short by the sudden wailing of fire alarms. She frowned, then stood to her feet and gestured for Peter to move outside. Once in the hallway, she realized that most of the student body was heading away from the exits.
"Get outside and take charge of anyone who's following the fire escape plan," she said loudly to Peter. "I'll take care of everyone who's not."
With that, she began walking purposefully down the hall, following those few students she could see towards, hopefully, the centre of the chaos.
IC Peter"... What is this," Peter muttered under his breath. "I,m too young to be doing this kind of stuff!" With that, he ran towards the exit, hoping that there were people who were actually following the fire protocol - "Though I doubt that there actually is a fire," he mumbled.
IC:
"Hah. Whoops."
-Tyler
IC:The instant the alarm started ringing, a loud curse echoed through the hallway, and Alexander took off running.The exact opposite direction of where he was supposed to.The Technopath, once upon a time, would have been winded long before he reached the hall, but he'd been making extensive use of the Danger Room over the past year, and his muscles propelled himself up the stairs to the second floor rapidly. Data swirled through his head, mind reaching out to the scene a few meters above. One of the data signatures suddenly went silent, most suspicious, and a photo had been deleted mere moments before. Even more suspicious. But, there's something most don't realize; data is not completely purged upon deletion, and the phone's storage was still intact.The effort needed to retrieve what was deleted was minimal, since the device was an unmodified Android phone. Moments later, as he reached the scene, he was scowling, his face a cold mask of fury."Well now, seems Dallas and Kristen have been busy. But, they don't seem to be the only ones, were they, Joe?"
IC:
"Don't you kill him, Jobs. I have dibs."
-Tyler
IC:
"Dallas!" Kristen exclaimed, staring at her friend, "You said you weren't going to kill him!"
IC:"Oh, don't worry. I have no killing intent."The Technopath stared at the blackmailer, hands in the pockets of his suit. His presence alone was an unusual sight; the expression on his face had only been seen a few times before."Do you know what I can do?" He asked the offender, quietly, calmly, waiting for Dallas to drop the field.
IC: Ethan Kigs
After getting close enough to hear the man with the axe-Ethan couldn't place his name-he heard something along the lines of "Dallas! You said you weren't going to kill him!"
Ethan stopped for a second. Murder? That's not good for anyone's health. He took a step forward in the crowd, and saw someone else emerge from the crowd, to confront the small group. Why can I never remember peoples' names?