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[A billion cats]

IC: Jeffery Pryde - Hospital, Las Vegas -

 

"How bad is he? Come on let me up!" Jeff stubbornly tried to fight Fox for a moment and get back up off the bed, but Fox found it easy to just force him back down. Jeff gave up the effort, his eyes watering. "It's my fault he got hurt...I shouldn't of let him come with me..." 

[.:Advent Aeternale:.]

IC: "Is this rescue operation of yours taking on any volunteers?"

 

With a grim sigh, Adrian schlepped up to the group discussing the evacuation of the X-Men from Vegas, leaning on a nearby doorway. "While this doesn't sound like the sort of mission for the more the merrier, it can't hurt to at least have a little back up."

Edited by .:Advent Aeternale:., Feb 28 2013 - 11:01 PM.

[Half a Cup of EW]

IC

 

Rene grinned, flicking his hair out of his eyes as he tossed the last drink to its startled owner. The paper cup drifted slowly through the air into the woman's hands, her eyes wide as saucers, but the barista wasn't looking. His attention was on the man in front of him.

 

"Nah man, I just got tired of the drama. I mean, look at this-"

 

He tossed an empty cup up into the air; the cup spun to the side, then zoomed around and perched on Dallas' head.

 

"I can control stuff with my mind; that chick-" he flicked his hand at Angela, who was watching him like he was crazy. "-can tell the future, and you can straighten your hair five minutes faster in the morning than anyone else on planet earth. And here I was, being ordered to attack people with my sweet powers."

 

The blonde teen sighed dramatically, and leaned on the counter. "I mean, come on, I figured there had to be something cooler. So-" he grinned. "-I'm bringing the gospel of Starbucks to the cream-filled centre of America."

[Sir Flex Nardius]

IC: Feral

 

“****,” John spat. Novocain was the one who had fused the adamantium to his skeleton. John hated the mad doctor more then almost anything and the thought that he was still alive and kicking sent fury through him. He’d love to tear into Novocain with his claws and make sure he was dead for good. Novocain being alive brought back the many horrors John had faced within Weapon-X.

 

The mad doctor had even created John’s son ‘Liam’ using his and Liliana’s DNA. No, John wouldn’t think twice about ending Novocain if he had the chance.

 

“We’ll get you patched up when we get out of here.” John said to Nathan. He hadn’t trusted the ex-Brotherhood mutant at first but he felt he’d proven himself tonight by staying with the team and not betraying them.

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's a real story for the ages, Simon Peter," Dallas replied, waving at Angela as he turned around and motioning for her to sit down at a table and wait for him. "But you don't know drama. Not when your other bestie is a werewolf that's tried to take a chomp outta you three times in the last month, his girlfriend's dead, her best friend's dead, and the only place you have for some downtime is Knoxville frickin' Tennessee. That's some All My Children level BS, if you know what I mean. So I bounced first chance Angie over there said she wanted a ticket back home."

 

Dallas sighed with equal drama and picked up a coin from the tip jar, tossing it into the air and slowing its fall so it could have more hang time.

 

"Wound up in Kansas, of all places. I've been fighting off scarecrows, zombies, and NRA goons all day."

 

-Tyler

[Lord of Adders Black]

IC: "Dorms are in the west wing, top floors," Francesca answered cheerily, "If you need help carrying stuff I'll be back in a moment after showing Warren a few things."

[The Writer]

OOC: Sorry, people. I've been a bit busy with stuff, and lost track of this thing. Can someone give me a brief statement of what happened?

[Varren Rehn]

IC:

 

"This is Christopher Hailey," Christopher said, relieved that someone picked up, "The Other 'Wild Card'... Listen. I don't know if the police, government, enforcers, or whoever are tapping this line. We need you to come pick us up. There's a town called Henderson. Get the Blackbird to go there. Also, make sure that infirmary is ready when we get back..."

 

He paused, not certain weither to add the next part or not, "Also... We've lost some of the others... Ashlynn activated the Phoenix when Zack was shot by one of the assassins... And Jeremey was in the way..."

 

He paused, his hands clenched into fists. He could hear the plastic that held the circuts of the phone in-place crinkle and crack as his frustration and personal anger mounted.

 

"He's dead. Then the Enforcers attacked. Aleksander might be dead, Rebekah took him away, and Christine followed him. A few others ran away, looking for cover. About half of us still here are hurt."

 

"Meet us in Henderson, we'll leave a sign there for the second Blackbird to land."

 

With that, the phone on Beast's end went dead as Christopher hung up, and headed back to the warehouse.

 

Warren trailed behind Francesca, interested to see the rest of the Manson.

Edited by Varren Rehn, Mar 01 2013 - 11:24 AM.

[Sir Flex Nardius]

OOC: Shot you a PM to fill you in Trad.

 

IC: Beast

 

Hank could hardly believe Christopher’s words. Zack shot, Aleks possibly dead… many of them hurt. Then there was Jeremy. The news shocked Hank into silence. He could hardly comprehend what Wild Card had said even after the line went dead he was still for a moment.

 

It had happened. Ashlynn’s Phoenix potential had awakened and she’d killed a teammate, a friend. Jeremy Wagner, the son of Beast old friend Nightcrawler. He had been a new addition to the team and the school but Hank had become fond of him. Jeremy’s upbeat attitude, his jokes and his religious devotion were all admirable traits; more then that though Hank had promised himself he’d protect all of the children of the old X-Men. He’d failed.

 

Hank lowered his head and he wept.

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

"No, I've got it."  Tera said, throwing the punching bag over her shoulder and picking up her duffle bag with her opposite hand. "Thanks, though. See you around."

The teen entered the mansion through the front door, and quickly located a staircase off to her right. She jogged up the stairs to the second floor, feet impacting lightly on every step. Unlike most, who would have been winded after making such a climb while weighed down, she wasn't even breathing hard. The girls dorms were easy to find, a few key clues would have told her where they were even if there wasn't a sign. Chances were, the correct section was not the one with the sound of Call of Duty. 

 

Near the end of the hall was an empty room on the left, facing the front grounds. She deposited her things carefully, and headed back for the staircase. She needed to register, after all, and let Beast know which room she'd chosen to stay in. 

His office was clearly marked by a metal sign on the door, something she took note of as she knocked.

"Mr. McCoy? You in there?"

[Sir Flex Nardius]

IC: Beast (X-Manor)

 

After taking the phone call Hank had wiped at his eyes and slowly walked up the grand-staircase to his office. Once inside he sat down in his chair and turned to face the window. A moment later he heard a knock and a voice outside.

 

"Come in." Hank said.

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

Tera stepped in, closing the door quietly behind her. "Found a room. Number 219, I think. Any paperwork I need to fill out?"

[Madara: Mangekyou Master]

OOC: Orange letters for the voice Cambion is currently impersonating. Maroon for his own voice. 

 

IC – Cambion – Boston:

 

“In today’s lesson, we will go over John Austin’s command theory, and his theories of positivism in jurisprudence.” The professor was a tall blonde man, with a neutrally English accent. He gestured to the chalkboard, a stern look flashing across his Scandinavian features. “I’m assuming all of you have completed the assigned readings. IF you have not, please leave the class immediately. You can pick up a recording of the lecture during my office hours.”

 

A slightly-built ginger student in the back of the classroom shifted from his seat, moving out of the doors. His face was flushed. It was better to leave than try to bluff Persson. The Swedish professor had an uncanny ability to single out the weakest links in a classroom. The student paced briskly across the campus towards his tiny apartment, muttering to himself. “It’s only the start of the second semester. I’ll be able to catch up. If I’m lucky enough to actually catch Dr. Persson at his ‘office hours.’”

 

The skinny ginger sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment. The Scandinavian professor was infamous for only actually having half an hour of official office hours. “Not exactly the largest window of opportunity.”

 

The student ran a hand through his hair, the bright copper curls shifting to a dark brown hue. The freckles on his face disappeared, as his jaw broadened slightly and his skin tone grew a couple shades darker.

 

Victor Maximoff, known in some circles as Cambion, looked at the unconscious ginger draped on the bed, and strode over to the couch. He had spent several months preparing for this job. He ran his fingers across Professor Persson’s name, printed on a rumpled-looking syllabus. “Staking the target, getting to know his every habit, his every habitat.”

 

The mutant smirked and looked back at the student, who was still asleep on the bed. “Every little detail must be flawless. Like finding and preparing an appropriate mark. Lost first years are so easy to befriend. Oh, a few too many nights out at the club with your best mate, and your marks slip. And there is nothing like a bit too much drink and a few too many pills to put someone to sleep. Well, I suppose befriend wouldn’t be quite the right term. Aromantic seduction maybe. Yess, I like the sound of that.”

 

Cambion craned his neck back, stretching it slightly as he surveyed himself in the mirror, shifting back into a doppelganger of the student. “Endure, Victor. Your five months of purgatory will soon be over.” He patted the ginger student on the head. The drugs would keep him unconscious until well into the evening. More than enough time.

 

“Blargh, look at the time. I’m screwed if I don’t head over to Persson’s office soon. He hates having his time wasted.” He snatched up a backpack and darted out the door. “After all, I can’t let the good professor be late to his other job at Buckler, Kite and Sköld.”   

Edited by Madara: Mangekyou Master, Mar 01 2013 - 02:24 PM.

[Sir Flex Nardius]

IC: Beast

 

Hank turned his chair around and nodded, "Just a few legal documents just sign and date them please," he said as he pushed a few papers towards her across the desk. Hank tried not to look at the picture of a six year old Ashlynn smiling at him. He didn't want to think about it. Not yet.

[Lord of Adders Black]

IC: Francesca seemed to be leading Warren down. Into the basement and further, into the bowels of the mansion. 
 
"Are you sure we're supposed to be here?"
 
"Err...not really. Pretty sure we're definitely not allowed, in fact." She stopped and turned to her apparent partner in crime, "But you need energy right? You're like some human dynamo. Well here-" She patted a large metal box affixed to the wall, securely locked in place, "-is where I think the mansion gets its power from the mains."
 
She focused on the door. It began to take on a light brownish colour and slightly doughy texture as her power lanced from her eyes and rippled across its surface. Once she'd completely turned it to fudge she just cracked it off its hinges, revealing a vast array of wires and circuits.
 
"You should be able to drain all the energy you like from that. It might pop up on the bills though. Perhaps you could arrange to work it off for Beast? At least you won't be craving batteries going hungry though."

Edited by Lord of Adders Black, Mar 01 2013 - 03:42 PM.

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

Tera pulled a pen out of her pocket, scanning the papers carefully and scrawling her signature near the bottom of each one. Not much out of the ordinary there, mostly the usual things about agreeing to abide by the conduct rules, et cetera, et cetera. The only unusual bit referred to the dangers of living in the same place as untrained mutants, but she'd more or less expected that to pop up somewhere.

 

McCoy seems... Distracted. She though idly to herself, going over the various minutiae present in the documents. That's to be expected, his students are in significant danger, but this is... It's more prevalent than it was. Something happened. And that picture... Since she'd arrived, the headmaster had been doing his best not to look at a picture on his desk. It was placed front and center, a place usually reserved for pictures of family and close friends. Not unusual in and of itself, but the fact that he was trying to avoid looking at a very prominent part of his desk was.

"There. Done."

[Varren Rehn]

IC:

 

Warren frowned for a moment, trying to decide if he should appeal to his craving, or if he should do what those DARE people always told him about drugs...

 

"I- Well, wouldn't it be... Alright."

 

The Hunger won out.

 

With that, he lunged forward, grabbing the circuits, wires, and other electrical-stuff that he didn't have a name for. For a second, nothing really special happened. Then the arm Warren had extended to grab the wires started to glow. He wasn't exactly glowing, but the electricity was actually being pulled out of the circuitry. Some of it went right through his hand, but even more seemed to lance out, like it might accidentally hit something else. It didn't, and it arced around to enter through his arm, or a few spare ones arced back into his body.

 

Upstairs, someone would probably notice half of the lights in the school going out. Although, none of the lights in Beast's office, nor the main floors turned out. But someone in the dormitories who had put a Xbox on pause would probably come back to find that all their save-data had been lost.

 

It didn't matter to Warren. All that mattered was gaining power.

 

He decided he would take half.

[Lord of Adders Black]

IC: While lights flickered and dimmed, computer screens flickered and buzzed as their power wavered and fluctuated. One in particular shuddered with static as it struggled to cope with the sudden loss of its necessarily massive power inflow.

 

Power/r/r/r/ Fading ---------->

 

Conserving Reser/er/er/er/erves ---------->

 

Shutting down auxili/ili/ili/iliary systems ---------->

 

Extraneous Texturing Shut Down ---------->

 

Advanced Physics Shut Down ---------->

 

Particle Effects Shut Down ---------->

 

WARNING! Power Levels at Unacccccccccccccccceptable Levels ---------->

 

WARNING! Involuntary Shut Down of Core Programmammammammes proceeding ---------->

 

WARNING! Safeties Disasdcvbled! ---------->

 

WARNING! Perimeterimeter Controls Disabled! ---------->

 

WARNING! Higher Intelligence systems initiating Offline procedures. Good night Dr. McCoy.

 

 

Back down in the basement Warren was thrown back from the control box by a flash of force and light. All the fuses and wires were instantly melted by the same flash, small sparks of leftover power spitting from them like the last yowls of an angry cat.

 

"Um...was that supposed to happen?" Francesca asked.

 

Her answer was swift to follow, but not from Warren. Across the mansion metal shutters began to close on windows and doors and alarms began to blare. Students in the corridors were confronted by a metallic sheen creeping across the walls and floors, then a much more dangerous confrontation by ambulatory robots or devices springing from the walls. Spikes lunged and lasers fired.

Warren had unwittingly shut down the Danger Room's ability to restrain itself. It was unleashed and had become a Danger Mansion. With all the students trapped inside...

[Sir Flex Nardius]

IC: Beast (Danger-Mansion)

 

"Well it looks like your all settled in," Hank said. "If you'd like I can register you for classes now or you can doso on your own on the website." he said as he avoided looking at the picture. Suddenly the walls within his room turned a strange metalic color. Spikes burst from the roof as a gun popped out of the wall and unleashed a laser blast at Beast. He ducked under his desk as it slammed into the wall. He looked up to see a metal covering over the wall.

 

"This usually doesn't happen..." Hank said to Tera as a flame-thrower popped out of the ceiling and began bathing the floor in flame.

[Madara: Mangekyou Master]

OOC: Professor Persson's (NPC for now) profile!

 

 

Spoiler

Name: Melker “Mel” Persson

Codename: Tyrsson

Age: 37

Gender: Male

Faction: S.H.I.E.L.D.

Powers: None

Appearance: A stereotypical Swede. Tall, athletic, and sandy blonde, with blue-green eyes. Melker is not a muscle-nut, but believes in staying as physically fit as possible. He usually keeps his hair short and professional. When in his cover identity, Melker dresses like an academic and legal professional. SHIELD business will usually result in him donning a standard black suit, or a more black-ops like jumpsuit.

 

Weapons: When in civilian disguise, Melker carries the standard equipment of an undercover agent of SHIELD. A Glock 19 made of a ceramic compound laced with carbon fibers, and an emergency medical kit. He also carries a kerambit knife, forged from a similar material as his gun, as a secondary weapon.

             When on field missions, he pairs standard firearms with a SHIELD energy pistol, based off of salvaged and reverse-engineered Asgardian Destroyer technology. It has an internal generator. Using ordinary assault rifles is second nature to him.

 

Skills: Melker has considerable training as a former member of the Kustjägarna (Coastal Rangers), and Särskilda Skyddsgruppen (SSG), respectively, the Swedish equivalents of the Seals and special operations. He served for some time as an officer in his Ranger team, before promotion to the SSG. On top of these "mundane" skills, he has received standard SHIELD training, which includes resistance to psychic intrusion. 

             Like most Swedes, Melker is multilingual, and, in addition to his mother tongue speaks Chinese, English, and Russian. He is used to working in an international environment. 

             He has an interest in jurisprudence and philosophy, which have assisted him in maintaining his cover as an international lawyer and associate professor of jurisprudence in Boston. He spent some of his time in SSG undercover studying law, and has an LL.B and LL.M in International Treaty Arbitration.

 

Personality: Disciplined, dutiful, and committed are three words which would describe Melker’s personality. He has a wry sense of humour, which can sometimes be lost to those around him. While he can appear stoic at times, he cares a great deal for his team and the greater good.

            He has a utilitarian worldview, and believes that the maximum happiness for the maximum number of people is the sacred truth of humanity. Duty, morality, and reason are the forces which drive him. He sees his biggest duty as one towards mankind, and believes in the value of his occupation. While he bears no grudges towards those with powers, he believes it is weak to worship them as heroes or fear them as gods.

 

Weaknesses: Despite his training and strength (both physical and mental), he is a human in a world that seems to be the playground of gods. Against the might of these modern-day gods, how can a mortal stand alone?

            Unlike SHIELD’s previous standard sidearm (a .30 machine pistol), Melker’s SHIELD energy pistol is not a rapid-fire weapon. It requires a charge to build up the energy required for each shot. Stronger shots require a longer charge.

 

Biography: Melker has made a career in the Swedish armed forces and special operations group, serving in both the Coastal Rangers and SSG in operations around Europe and the Middle East.  When the SSG and SIG merged in 2011 to form the SOG, he was offered a job with SHIELD, and has served with the international agency ever since. In total, he spent ten years in the Rangers, five years in SSG, and has two years under his belt at SHIELD.

           He has been posted to an office and information vault located in Boston. While his primary responsibility is the protection of an important database of information, he is called out from time to time on fieldwork. He has been codenamed “Tyrsson” for his fighting prowess, legal training, and Swedish heritage. His cover identity in Boston is that of a lawyer with the international firm Buckler, Kite and Sköld, an international law firm (undercover SHIELD office), who teaches a university class on legal jurisprudence.

As a note, following a European model of studies, which allows law school to be taken as an undergraduate degree, it is possible to get an LL.M (Master in Laws) within a minimum of 4 years. 
 

Will Cambion get the recordings and class notes he needs?! Tune in next time! 

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

Tera dropped and rolled when the cannon popped out of the wall, narrowly avoiding the same blast that flew at Beast. She came up to her feet in one fluid motion, reflexively settling into a ready stance. 

 

"I should hope not." Her eyes watched the flamethrower. It's initial burst had already lit the floor between her and the exit on fire, and judging from the noise, the same thing was happening outside.

[Varren Rehn]

IC:

 

"Uhm, I didn't do that," Warren said quickly, getting back up, "Not on purpose anyway."

 

As he stood up, his clothes had some small holes from the explosion. But he wasn't hurt. He had been able to absorb a last minute burst of energy.

 

"We should check that out... Right?"

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

A part of Ric Carlisle had honestly wanted to turn on some music, smooth his fraying nerves out a bit before they crumpled like paper under the burden of an eraser, but he got the feeling it would only lead to him putting a bullet in the Blackbird's radio, and he didn't feel like funneling any funds Beast's way to help pay for it. He looked at his iPod like he would look at a sample of smallpox; his headphones had been tossed Frisbee-style away onto one of the couches. His thoughts were on the X-Men, dead, injured, or totally worn out to the point of being one, the other, or both.

 

He loved Beast, but at the same time, Alaric had grown to detest the methods used to champion what he stood for; first, Dallas Green had left, weeks ago, and then after he did the morale of the X-Men had slowly sagged and fallen to the point where, when a mission finally came, Alaric had no desire to come along. It seemed that many of the OG second-generation team members had felt the same, and so it had fallen to Alexander Smith (a broken man in his own right) to lead the team. And it had been an unmitigated disaster.

 

And then Ashlynn: in one swift moment, the Phoenix Force had been unleashed, inflicting who-knew what kind of damage on Las Vegas and the people around her. Ric had heard the stories from his father on what Jean Grey had done to the people she had confronted, how Warren's charred corpse had taken the better part of two days to come back from the dead even with his Cheyarafim ring at his back. How no one - no one - who Jean cornered survived. Not the best, not the brightest...certainly not any mutants who were less than that.

 

And now Ashlynn was losing it, right in front of their eyes, and nobody had any idea what to do.

 

"I know what to do, Alaric."

 

Ric looked up, but didn't turn around to see Warren: he knew his father was standing right in front of him, looking like almost his mirror image except with blonde hair instead of black; his resurrection ring was on his middle finger, as opposed to Alaric, who wore his on his right. Otherwise, what with Warren's vastly slowed aging processes, they could be twin brothers. In a way, that was kind of cool, Ric decided. Growing old with his father, as opposed to growing old after the fact. But then there was the possibility that Warren could always outlive him, one way or the other--

 

Back to the present. Warren's tone suggested nothing good about his idea, and now Alaric turned around and stood up. His father was still an inch or two taller than him, but they could look into each other's eyes effectively enough. Something glistened in Warren's eye: regret? Fear? Anticipation?

 

"I can't kill her, Warren. I won't."

 

His face was understanding, but even as the billionaire playboy opened his mouth Ric knew what his father would say. Even with that knowledge, it didn't soften the blow.

 

"We have to kill her, Alaric. We can't risk it happening again. I can't risk..."

 

His voice broke, and he looked down regretfully for a second, breaking his staring contest with Alaric. The son sighed and sat down again, running his hands through his black hair: his resurrection ring pressed against his head and then hit leather with a soft ploomp as his hands dropped like a puppet with cut strings. Warren sighed, too, and though there were no footsteps Alaric felt as though his father was slowly drifting through the ship.

 

"I loved Jean, Alaric. More than anything, I loved her, and in a lot of ways I still do. But I saw what the Phoenix did, to the people I loved, people I cared about, people I hated, people I never even knew existed. I know what you're going through; I know where you are, and I'm sorry you have to be there. I just...God, Ric, I'm sorry. But it's like I said. I just can't risk it."

 

There was a sudden crack through the tinny air of the Blackbird as Warren reached out and snapped his own son's neck quickly and brutally; Ric slumped and tumbled out of the chair, and Warren, letting out the breath he had been holding shakily, lightly kicked his son's body out of the way and sat down at the controls.

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden, Mar 01 2013 - 07:43 PM.

[Half a Cup of EW]

IC

 

Renè grinned at the last remark. "What, no twisters? And here I thought you were looking for shelter in our basement."

 

He snatched the coin out of the air. "And paws off my tips, pretty boy. I'm gonna retire with those."

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

"This blows, hermano."

 

996. 997. 998. 999. 1000.

 

To keep himself elevated, Daken Akihiro had tied his own mohawk up in a knot that was currently affixed to a hook on the ceiling, not unlike one you'd hang a punching bag from: he'd duct taped his hands to their opposing shoulders and was currently doing mid-air decline situps, with his feet positioned on a bar specially implanted further up in the ceiling for him. He was shirtless, and his taut, well-muscled chest and arms flexed and burned without pause or anything to keep them contained with every situp until he hit his count of a thousand. On his sternum, a cell phone was balanced carefully on its end, reading the time he'd been elevated and how long he had to go before his blood transfer levels throughout his body reached critically dangerous levels.

 

Twenty seconds to go. Well, if that ain't some...

 

This knot was the devil to untie, and Daken's mohawk by now trailed down to about a third of the way down his spinal column, so from his front waistband the assassin drew a stiletto knife and sliced once, horizontally, down the knot of hair while pulling himself into a midair fetal position. There was an odd instinct of floating, a second or two of feeling weightless, before Daken dropped down to the ground and rolled into a crouched position, like a panther. A man was standing in the doorway, watching him, and the assassin ran his hands over his shortened hairdo before rolling his eyes in undisguised irritation.

 

"I mean, you're watching the news, right? You're watching as the Goonies out there play ###### peek-a-boo with the X-Men and we're all stuck here, right? You get how ###### irritated I am that I was promised action - payback, even, and now here I am stuck training like I'm some sorta Bruce Lee, right?"

 

The man said nothing, and Daken rolled his eyes.

 

"I get it, I get it, you know what, man, I ###### get it. And I get that you get it. So just go ahead, play your little mind tricks, Ben Kenobi. Keep on with the silent treatment. In the meantime, I'll be off getting results."

 

Daken brushed past him, running his hands over his hairdo again and not bothering to towel off or even grab a shirt. Still, the man in the door said nothing.

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden, Mar 01 2013 - 08:27 PM.

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

But that's not enough.

The reply was followed by a vicious mental assault, clawing at the edges of Ashlynn's mind. If she behaved as she had been, she would respond with one of her own.

But when she did, she would find something curious. There were no walls around the exterior of his mind. His memories and knowledge were guarded, but there was no barrier to her attack.

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

"Yeah, Maybelline! Go ahead, take two pudding cups! Show those geriatric Gestapos in the old folk's ward that you don't need no stinkin' dessert regulations! Fight the man! Fight the--"

 

Brooklyn stopped her chirping and tilted her head confusedly at Rebekah before shrugging.

 

"Err...yeah, sure thing, girl. Let's talk."

 

IC:

 

Dallas pouted.

 

"But Reneeeeee! How are you ever gonna take me to that villa in the South of France like you promised when you can't even schmooze your way out of the Great Lakes?"

 

-Tyler

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

Rebekah's hands slipped into her pocket, after one brushed her hair back over her shoulder. Her posture was awkward, and she looked more or less at the ground. For most people, it didn't mean much of anything. But for people like Brooklyn, who'd spent a significant amount of time around her, the subconscious message was clear. Rebekah was trying to figure out how to communicate effectively.

 

"Do you remember, about two months ago...? Just after we got away from Weapon X? You asked me if I needed to talk about it." She paused for a moment. "But I never asked you if you needed to talk. And I should have."

[Half a Cup of EW]

IC

 

Renè smirked, his hands flying as he whipped up a pair of drinks, sending one spinning through the air to Angela's waiting hand, the precog having seen it coming a full nine seconds earlier.

 

"Who says I can't get out of the Great Lakes, Dally? Here- taste this."

 

He let the second drink drift across the counter to Dallas, eyes wide with anticipation. "Well? Is it good enough to buy me a ticket to wherever you're going?"

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

"Unfortunately, in these times, there is no clear enemy to be overcome. People desperately search for one, because if it could be found, things could be normal once again." Alistair slipped his hands into his pocket, as he kept walking. "They lash out. The cornered rat will bite the cat."

[A billion cats]

IC: Ashley 
 
"This kind of talk is getting depressing..."

Edited by Snelly, Mar 01 2013 - 10:11 PM.

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

"The world, unfortunately, tends toward a depressing viewpoint these days. The situation in Vegas, the recent attacks on DC. The world's going mad, and we're all going with it."

[ZHX]

IC: Gabriel

 

Up. Up. Down. Down. Left. Right. Left. Right. Select. Start.

 

A shake. The chains rattled. Another. The sound of metal creaking. A bigger one. The bed began to tilt.

 

Collapse.

 

Dust flies. Coughs fill the air.

 

Short gasps of breath.

 

"What ... just happened?"

[A billion cats]

IC: Ashley

 

Ashley sighed, as much as she preferred not to think about what was happening out there right now in the rest of the world, was it right for her to just pretend it wasn't happening? She wasn't sure. 

 

There was an empty bench that they were approaching as they walked on their left side, Ashley sat down and soaked up the sun's light as it shined down. 

 

"They're still some sanity left. I mean look at me!" She said, giving a goofy grin. 

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

"Ms. Landes, you're hardly the definition of sane." Alistair commented, a half grin pulling up one corner of his mouth. "But, you're a good kind of insane. The kind that cheers people up, rather than tearing them down."

[The Writer]

IC: Madness, Sara, Will and Michael (At Mansion)

 

The four teenagers were being rather idle when they were confronted with the mansion's transformation.

 

One was in his Spartan accommodations, another was busy walking up and down, and the siblings were, well, one of them was eating and the other was eyeing some pie.

 

---Sara and Will---

Sara was busy decimating a plate of water crackers with Will sitting next to her, eyeing the Cornish pocket pie when it suddenly burst into flames. "That's weird," she said. "I didn't ask for curry." she was about to add, when Will lunged into her, pushing them out of the way of a falling spike plate.

 

She got up, shaking some dust out of her hair. She ducked again when a laser scorched past, almost decapitating her. "Okay...."

 

"Is this normal?" asked her brother, shaken.

 

"No...I don't think so. You got your kit?"

 

Minutes later, using Will's power to create a shield between them and any danger, the siblings were now at the exit of the cafeteria. However, it was covered with metal shutters. "Oh dear."

 

---Madness---

He was outside pacing the corridor when walls took on a metal sheen and suddenly the floor decided to open up underneath him. He disappointed it, however, by telekinetically pushing himself onto the nearest wall. 

 

S***. Someone's attacking this place again, was the first thing he thought.

 

Cain however decided to interject at this point. Rather novel way to attack this place, don't you think? Most of the time they go and come charging us like bulls.

 

Madness decided to store that for further consideration when he ran down the wall to find two robots coming at him.

 

Godsdamnit. He was unarmed, and those robots looked pretty much like tanks. Well, he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

 

---Michael---

He was watching the television when the image suddenly flickered and the lights went out.

That was not much of a problem. He had good night vision.

Then his room sealed shut, and every surface that made up a room seemed to become metal.

That presented a possibly larger problem.

Outside, it seemed as if the door to Michael's room was forcefully punched by someone with super-high metabolism. However, it was Michael, using shadows, had simply sent them flying with huge amounts of momentum to smash the door off its hinges.

He quickly ran outside before it could do anything interesting, like reforming.

He went downstairs as quickly as he could.

[A billion cats]

IC: Ashley

 

Ashley giggled. "That's the only way to be!" She exclaimed, giving a thumbs up.

 

"ACHOO!"

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

Lemme get dat mocha, doeeeeeee!

 

Dallas took a large sip of his drink and closed his eyes, squeezing them together tightly before opening them again. The electric blue irises pulsed slightly, and he whistled lowly before promptly sliding over the counter and getting down on his knees, hugging away at Rene's legs and holding his head tightly to the Cajun's abdomen, barely covered by a thin Starbucks apron and v-neck underneath.

 

"Come away with me, my love," the chronokinetic begged. "I just can't let a good barista slip through my fingers, not again..."

 

-Tyler

[Madara: Mangekyou Master]

IC – Cambion – Boston:

 

"Ah, umm, hello. I was wondering, is Professor Persson in yet? In his office? Oh, alright. Thank you." 

 

Cambion, in the guise of the ginger student, scuttled sheepishly up the staircase to the second floor. "Pretty secretary. Too bad that I'm leaving this town so quickly. We could have had such fun."

 

"Room 246, 248. Aha! 254." Cambion looked at the mahogany door. It was almost as imposing as the Professor himself. This is where the chips fell down. An all or nothing gamble. 

 

If Cambion's surveillance and intel was correct, Associate Professor Persson was far more than a simple high-flying lawyer. "I suppose I'm not the only one who gets his paychecks from a life of subterfuge and deception." 

 

He licked his lips nervously. He had searched so carefully for his prize. "Playing limbo with the FBI wasn't easy. Though, it was too obvious that the information wouldn't be in the hands of any single nation's agencies. I'm only lucky that the information was housed here in Boston, instead of on some island safehouse off the Ivory Coast." He rolled his eyes. For that matter, he was lucky it wasn't on the mighty S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier. "You'd have to give me El Dorado to try and pull off a stunt like that!"

 

The mutant raised his hand and knocked hesitantly on the door. "Professor Persson, m-may I come in?" "Luck has led me here thus far, and luck will see me through." 

 

A steadt voice rang out from within the office. "Yes, yes. I don't have all day. Come on in."

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

The British teen laughed, both at the comment and at the sneeze. "You really need to get out of the cold. And the wind. Because clearly you aren't warming up."