20355 replies to this topic

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

"I never thought I'd say this to a guy," Daken replied with raised eyebrows as he moved over and lifted Pietro by the scruff of his neck, "but you look a lot better off your knees."

 

The assassin made his way down, dragging Quicksilver behind him, and picked up the camera, panning past Binder's head for all of a second and then settling on a close up of Pietro. The gun Daken had just used to execute the terrorist Raiders of the Lost Ark style was now pointed square at the forehead of the Brotherhood leader, and the camera zoomed in for a second on the calm blue eyes, the arrogant face, before panning out so that Pietro could be plainly seen, half-standing on the stairs of the Memorial.

 

"Smile pretty for me now, Pietro. We're gonna win an Oscar for this, you and me. Just smile...smile for the folks...you wanna make history, mother######er? We can make it, right now. You and me. Let's do it together."

 

The gun cocked.

 

*****

 

The door to Pietro's study swung openly silently on well oiled hinges. The little bit of maintenance that there had been time for had gone a long way, the man reflected, as he entered. The leader of the Brotherhood sat motionless in his chair, eyes closed, as if he were a hundred miles away. Which, in a way, he was.

 

You went too far this time, Maximoff. You were reckless. You let your own hatred blind you to what needed to be done.

 

Nate moved in to the throne room silently. The archer hadn't ever agreed with his "illustrious leader's" methods, but this time he'd done something real stupid. A step back when he saw Abraham there, but he nodded at him silently. In his right hand? An arrow stripped of its metal tip, replaced with a stone one for fighting magnetic mutants. The left? An old wooden practice bow. He was barefoot and had on pure cotton clothes.

 

Nate was taking no chances.

 

Shiloh was the last one to step into the throne room, and probably the least expected. Pietro had given her sanctuary, a place to be safe. But now he had seriously jeopardized that safety, which was something she would not tolerate. She was weaponless, but she didn’t really need a weapon. 

 

She came to Abraham’s side; her eyes flashed a bright blue, indicating her powers had activated, but on what?

 

Abraham's eyebrows raised at first when Nate entered, almost as if he expected a fight, but he relaxed slightly when he saw what the other mutant was carrying. Nodding slightly, he glanced at the recently arrived Shiloh. Before his eyes, her eyes began to glow and the chair containing Maximoff came alive.

 

Almost as if it understand the need for silence, it wrapped its arms around the comatose leader, preventing him from moving. Abraham's hand slipped into his pocket, drawing a small pistol with a high grade silencer at the end. He had no conerns about metal. A wise tactician always prepared for the worst, but Pietro was unconscious, and he would remain so for long enough. He was estimated to need ten minutes to execute the president, and complete his plans. He'd been gone four. The strategist raised his weapon, and leveled the barrel at leader of the Brotherhood's heart.

 

The Brotherhood used to stand for something, used to have a purpose. A purpose that I was willing to fight for. You've corrupted that purpose.

 

Nate aimed his bow at the distracted mutants head- more specifically, his left eye. I don't care about your great plan anymore, Maximoff. The only reason I helped you was because the X-Men sheltered the Phoenix. Now you've kicked us farther behind than we've ever been...

 

“Hold him.” Shiloh commanded to the chair; it listened to her, wrapping it’s ‘arms’ around the Brotherhood leader. Pietro would be quite unable to move from his seat. 

 

I never signed up to help some fanatic bent on world domination, I just wanted a home. Thanks to you Pietro I may not have one for long.

 

The strategist looked at Nate, and began mouthing a countdown. He wasn't taking any risks. If one shot or the other went off early, the Maximoff could wake up. 3... 2... 1...

 

Two hands moved simultaneously, powered by the same thought. One opened, releasing a bowstring, and sending an arrow flying through the former leader of the Brotherhood's eye, even as the other tightened, sending a bullet into his heart. Two soundless, easy movements were all it took to end the life of the world's most notorious terrorist.

 

Two movements, perpetrated by three of his most loyal followers.

 

*****

 

The gun cocked.

 

Daken placed the camera back on the tripod so that it caught Pietro's face cleanly. The assassin walked around so that he, too, was suddenly caught in the frame. The Internet, the news media...it seemed that every screen in the world, along with those monitoring them, held its collective breath.

 

"Alright, mother######er," he said evenly. "See you in the textbooks."

 

The gun fired once, sending a bullet spiraling cleanly through the back of Pietro's head. Blood, grey matter, and deformed lead all splattered against the camera's lens at once, effectively blocking out nearly everything except a part of Daken's face. One deep blue eye shone curiously, though nobody could see why; in actuality, it was because Pietro had suddenly morphed into a young, punk-haired looking mutant who's pretty face was now obscured by a very, very nasty looking bullet wound.

 

"Ain't that a ######," Akihiro whistled softly, holstering the gun in his waistband, running one hand through his mohawk as he kicked the camera into the Reflecting Pool.

 

Meanwhile, although Daken didn't know it, thanks in part to the efforts of colleagues he had never met, Pietro Maximoff was well and truly dead.

 

-Tyler

[Varren Rehn]

OOC: Chris is now temporally displaced... He's at the very least a day-or two ahead of everyone else.

 

But then-again, the RP seems to run on BZP time now...

 

IC:

 

"A train from Vegas to New York," Chris mused, "The train from Vegas that goes to New York. A train that started in Salt Lake and ended up in Albany..."

 

Chris rambled on about this to himself, seeing how many variations of the same sentence he could come up with using the assassin's memories. It had been a hike from Vegas to the nearest working train station (which was in Salt Lake City), and he'd arrived just in-time to get a ticket for the train leaving to Albany, and to board the train. He had done this all, without looking like himself. So here he was, looking as if he was some middle-aged fellow, stepping out of Albany Union Station. He had full intent to get to New York, to learn more, to find out more about the events that had brought him back to NYC.

 

So, he started to walk south. Towards the city of New York. He decided that he'd have to hunt for any records he might have first, then hunt around, learn more about the world and what-not.

 

He decided that the first thing he would do when learning more about the world, is learn what an internet is. Nobody had explained it to him, and he really was tired of not knowing what it was.

 

He hated not knowing.

[Madara: Mangekyou Master]

IC - Cambion - The Lodge:

Victor Maximoff was looking up at the stars, outside of the now quiet lodge. It was mostly dark, besides the He was going to let the fire burn out. There was something about fire which made his skin crawl. 

 

His silver suitcase and black briefcase were neatly packed up, sitting in the back trunk of his red Porsche. He had carefully scrubbed the lodge floor clean of blood, after drawing up enough for the cover he had planned.

 

The lodgekeeper's body would likely be found in the forest, during the thaw. Most of the ribcage, an arm, and his lower half would never be found, though the plethora of bite-like marks along the bones would be a telltale sign of scavengers. The crushed state of his skull and the long scratches they would find etched into his brow and cheekbone would point to a bear attack. His shotgun would be spotted not far away from the skeletal remains, with one solid slug left in it.

Unfortunate collateral damage in the world of business. 

The young mutant smiled as he threw his field kit into the passenger seat, and double-checked the coordinates he had been given by Romulus. "Good. Within driving distance." It was time to take make another gamble.
 


 

[Lord of Adders Black]

IC: "It was Sarah!" Francesca explained to Walter, "She just went crazy! Suddenly she had a gun, and she was shooting Beast, and there was nothing I could do and...and-!" Her eyes glistened and a few slow tears trickled down her face, the result of shock and fear. Well, thats what they'd see anyway

[Varren Rehn]

IC:

 

"She. Did. What!?"

 

Suddenly, Christopher was standing by Francesca, his face a mixture of anger and disbelief.

 

"Where the heck did she get a gun- Where did she go?" He demanded, feeling responsable for what had happened, "I'll handle her myself."

[Lord of Adders Black]

IC: "I don't know! How should I know where she got a gun!" Francesca shrieked, "She came from your brain not mine!"

[Varren Rehn]

IC:

 

"I'm going to find her," He stated, turning invisible and dashing away from the others.

 

He had to find why she would've shot Beast, and fix this. Before she accidentally hurt herself, or anyone else.

 

Molotov created a controlled wall of flames that sealed the exits off from anyone entering or leaving

 

There would be no escape for the terrorist.

Edited by Varren Rehn, Mar 15 2013 - 07:35 PM.

[Sir Flex Nardius]

IC: Feral

"Watch Hank for me Matt," John said as he took another whiff if the gun in his hand to make sure he knew her scent well.

"I'm going hunting." He said as he began to walk away.

Matt watched John go. He knew nothing he said would stop him. He simply stepped inside the medical bay and turned his attention to the television.

Jesus, everything is screwed. He thought as he saw an update on the Presidents' death. He saw scenes of Daken killing Pietro. "John hasn't seen this yet... Daken being alive is not good news."

IC: Romulus

The massive lupine mutant sat forward suddenly as he watched the television. "Daken... My son is alive..." He said while he watched as Daken shot Quicksilver. Daken wasn't Romulus' real son but he was his prodigy.

IC: Destruction

Hearing the gunshot Caden stepped into Pietro's room. He took a look at the carnage and then at the three assassins that had ended their leaders life.

He clapped his hands. "We'll isn't this an interesting turn of events. What happens now?" Destruction asked with an odd glint to his yellow eyes.

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

He'd tried to bury her, but he couldn't. Something in Warren's heart wouldn't let him bury her, so he had taken it upon himself to sneak into one of the hospitals in Vegas and drop her off in the morgue as a Jane Doe. It was about as abrupt, as callous a goodbye as he could muster, but unfortunately he would probably be shot on sight at Westchester by Alaric, or Matt, John, and Hank would be beyond furious at what had occurred. Maybe Hank would try to kill him.

 

But the jobs that no one else ever wanted to take were always the jobs that Warren had relished, with the exception of one.

 

The morning after Jean Grey had died, it had rained a lot in upstate New York.

 

It was this rain, he'd always thought, that had woken him up: Warren's baby blue eyes had snapped open all at once as he began gasping for air, relishing the feel of life as he sat up, clutching at his torn white button up and singed white t-shirt underneath. He was coated in rain, rain and sweat and blood and ash. Lots of ash; it mingled with the raindrops precariously and hit the ground, creating coal-black puddles in its wake. Almost of their own accord, his wings unfurled, then tucked back in again: he was fine.

 

Now Warren looked around, shivering slightly and not just because of the rain; the entire field where they'd fought was quiet, quiet as the grave, and the plants and grass were pressed down like a child's hair on picture day. A figure lay there, solitary and curled up, clutching at his ribs; Warren scrambled over to nudge the figure on his shoulder, but as soon as his pianist's fingers met the figure it crumbled, crumbled into more ash. All that was left was one long, sharp looking bone claw.

 

Oh, Christ. Oh, sweet Jesus Christ, no, Logan was all over now, he was wearing Logan on his hands; his soft palms were coated in the ashes of his rival...

 

Backing up rapidly, fearfully, Warren backed up on his hands until he was pressed against the Blackbird, panting heavily; his eyes then fell upon a figure also crouched against the plane. This one wasn't ash, he could see from here: even as the heir to the Worthington fortune practically sprinted over to Scott, lifted up his head, looked desperately for a pulse, he could see that there was little hope. Scott's handsome face was ashen and dead, not a spark in it, and even as Warren lifted away his visor, hoping against hope that laser beams would fly out and hit him in the face, Cyclops slumped over into his friend's arms. Warren couldn't restrain it, nor did he want to: he cried into Scott's shoulder desperately. Tears of an angel could heal all wounds, right?

 

"Scott...c'mon, Scottie, c'mon..." he wept desperately before looking up at the sound of an electronic squawk, coming from inside the Blackbird. It was...speaking.

 

"Scott, Logan, Warren...come in...Scott! Logan! Warren...guys..."

 

Hank. Hank was alive, and so was Warren. Jean was gone, and instinctively Warren knew she was dead. Something snapped inside his body, and the bloodied, muddy, ash-coated Warren Worthington, Warren Worthington with his white clothes and model's face and everything-blonde hair mattered down and dyed dark with a variety of substances, Warren Worthington the Angel, crawled forward with broken sobs, Logan's claw still trapped firmly in his hands, and began to stab away at the Blackbird's communication device.

 

Almost idly he had drawn his pocketknife and was examining the surface of the blade, the hilt, the sheen; he ran a gurney across the adamantium blade once, as if checking the sharpness, before closing it up and walking out of the morgue, into the hospital itself.

 

-Tyler

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

"Now?"

 

Abraham asked, voice cold. He holstered the pistol in one movement, flicking off the droplets of backspatter that had hit the barrel. He looked no different than normal, his gaze cool and calculating as it always was. "I don't particularly care what happens now."

 

"This island will be nothing but a crater within three days time. One does not kill the president without garnering such attention. And as far as I am concerned, the Brotherhood may burn with it. You're all rebels without a cause, now. With Quicksilver deceased, you have no leader. And you're probably better off for it. Pietro Maximoff was leading you all down the garden path of destruction."

 

The tactician's eyes narrowed slightly, taking in Caden's appearance. Abraham didn't appear concerned, he never did. Every move was considered carefully, every factor already dealt with in his plans. He had expected to be found, one did not simply perform an assassination without being noticed.

 

"I do not intend to be here when the Enforcers come to exact vengeance. And you have a choice to make, Caden. You can either stay and die, or leave and have a chance at living."

[Sir Flex Nardius]

IC: Destruction

"Then give us a leader," Caden said. "You once boasted how your were our tactician, behind most of our plans, refining them," he said a he walked forward.

"You can lead us Abraham. I would fill Quicksilvers place but I lack they certain quality. The Brotherhood can survive. We can move, find a new place like we always do. There are a lot of mutants here now, refugees from all over the globe who are counting on us to protect them." Caden had never cared much about anything but himself, but now with so many lives on the line perhaps he was changing.

[Madara: Mangekyou Master]

IC - Cambion - Hellfire Mansion:

Victor shut off his radio as he pulled up towards the location his coordinates had indicated. Sure enough, there was a mansion. 

The Porsche 911 stopped in front of an iron gate. Maximoff glanced outside, at the area around the gate. There was no visible security. "But really, the most secured places are the ones which don't look like it on the surface."

He tapped the steering wheel. "It would probably take at least a month to even get close to casing this place." Victor Maximoff rolled down the window, and peered out. What appeared to be a buzzer. The young man leaned out and pressed it.  "I have an appointment with Bishop White."

[Kaitholas Cage]

IC: "Some of you will be leaving, whether you like it or not." Pietro had been overconfident. In his lust to kill the president he'd left a gap open in his defenses. A gap almost no one would have penetrated, but these beings capitalized on "almost". Simply put, the force field was translucent, letting a being with the proper light based transport though easily. Readouts were flickering across their visors. Shiloh- useless. Abraham- useless. Destruction, Nate... Primary objectives. The body... "Give us the body, and three may go free."

[The Zytrix]

IC: Shaw, Trevor, Venom

 

A deep, regal-souding voice answered Victor.

"Name, please."

 

Trevor drew in a breath and let it out.

"I will be back in a moment," he said, "I have some business to take care of."

With that, he vanished in a flash of red.

 

A stunning burst of light erupted in front of Caden. Trevor looked from the grey-skinned former second-in-command of the Brotherhood to the chair with Pietro's dead body slumped over in it.

"I see someone has already done what I have intended to do for years," he said, "nevertheless..."

He looked back at Caden.

"I sincerely hope you don't have plans for the Brotherhood after this. I cannot allow for its existence to persist."

He seemed to be completely ignoring the newcomer.

 

A feral growl escaped our toothy maw.

"You're so much like Parker," we spat, "all talk and no substance. And soon, you'll be just as dead as him."

We bounded over to the tree and sliced clean through it with a bladed tentacle.

Edited by The Zytrix, Mar 15 2013 - 09:16 PM.

[Constructman: Black Knight]

OOC retconning my previous post with Knower; it didn't make sense anyways.

IC Knower
I didn't move for a long time.

Molotov's message had hit me like a train, yet for some reason, I didn't move. I didn't cry, I didn't berate myself for failing, I didn't look to the heavens asking for protection from Zeus, or Odin, or Yahweh, or the Vishanti, or anything. I just stood there. Gazing up at the television where two great men had died in full view of the world.

Why didn't I cry? Why didn't I break down in fear? Maybe because this wasn't my fight; I was just a 15 year old Canadian boy who had somehow stumbled in this larger than life story. A story of heroes and villains, of good and evil, of love and hatred. Or maybe I had just seen too much. There comes a plot when one just sees too much ###### in the world to even care any ore. And believe me, I've seen a lot of ######. Every night, when even the Colonel was sleeping, I'd be awake, my psychic eye sweeping over the world, gazing upon the darkness that was humanity.

Or maybe, maybe it was just the fact that I knew what to expect. While I hadn't been expecting that Pietro would kill the President live, I did have a feeling that somehow, the X-Men would fail. Humanity and mutantkind, in my eyes, would never come to live in peace. For every mutant who advocated brotherly love in the world, there would be two who promoted hatred. Humans were just as guilty; the masses refused to understand, to accept. Tensions between humanity and mutantkind had piled up too much and this was the wafer thin mint. We had but been delaying the inevitable; now, the end was approaching quicker than before. He machine that was our society was on the verge of self-destruction.

And yet, none of this-the shock of the event, the failure to stop it, or even the prospect of the end of the world-visibly shook me. And so I stood. Finally, I lifted my comm to my mouth. "Director Fury?" I asked into it, voice hard as stone, cold as ice, more dead than alive.

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

Nick Fury's gaze fell on Knower hard: his single eye bored into the little Canadian tyke with a fiery, odd determination.

 

"What is it, Timmy Turner?"

 

-Tyler

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

Abraham simply stared at Caden, eyebrow raising slightly.

 

"I'll deal with that thought later. For the moment, get anyone who wants to live onto some kind of ship, a teleporter, I don't care. Get them off Genosha, and somewhere safer." He glanced at Trevor, eyes narrowing. "And you. Whether or not I care is irrelevant, but if you insist on causing further trouble here, I will have to make you regret it. Enough blood has been shed here for one day."

[Madara: Mangekyou Master]

IC - Cambion - Hellfire Mansion:

"Cambion. I'm delivering the library the Bishop was interested in."

[Basilisk]

IC (Chambers)

 

Chambers felt like he'd been hit by a convoy of main battle tanks tearing arse across the desert at full speed. The radio waves were in chaos. First the president was gone, next he was dead, then the Brotherhood's leader was dead. The world was going up in flames....or at least, it felt like it. He shook his head. Things hadn't start off good and they weren't ending good. This wasn't what he'd expect when he woke up this morning. When he'd woke up the president was alive, the Brotherhood was on the run. When he slept tonight, he would not know what tomorrow would bring....or even if he would wake up. The world stood on the brink. He saw the SHIELD agent....Ares? That was what the ID had said. He heard the kid mutter something. Failure. He understood that.

 

Without quite knowing what he was doing. He walked up to Ares. "Not your fault agent. Not your fault......no one saw this one coming. No..." He trailed off and averted his gaze. Tears filling his eyes.

[The Snark Knight]

OOC: Bryce approved (1) Tyler agrees, so Bryce approved (2).

 

 

IC:

 

Burnblade was running, working to get away. Footfall after footfall, James was slowly overtaking him, catching up to the slower mutant. Just a little bit closer....

 

And suddenly he stopped, Molotov’s voice echoing in his ear. At first it didn’t quite click what he’d said, it didn’t quite register. Not because he couldn’t hear it, but because it was an impossibility. They couldn’t have gotten the president. He had so many guards, there were so many troops... But a single glance around the formerly chaotic area confirmed it. Citizens and soldiers alike, staring off into space as if it hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Binder was dead, assassinated on live television. Killed moments after delivering the greatest pro-mutant speech that the country had seen in seventeen years, and his very last words had been an broadcasted live, a final farewell to his daughter. 

 

Not for the first time that day, his heart seemed to stop. The face of a nation, the leader of the free world, cut down in an instant. The Brotherhood had beaten down the guards, killed the senators, and then killed the man himself. They’d walked in and defiled everything that the president had stood for.

 

Pietro stylized himself a revolutionary. He believed that he had taken out the leader of his opposition, that now the path to mutant domination was clear. But all he’d really done was destroy their last, best chance for peace. It was all for naught. All the work on human-mutant relations, all the work to keep people safe...

 

He could see it now. The government would crack down on the mutants, imposing harsher and harsher laws, increasing resentment. And with increased resentment the fighting would start. Mutant on mutant, mutant on human, it didn’t matter. They would fight each other just the same. The country would tear itself apart.

 

Slowly, he looked down at the shield on his arm. The colors on that shield used to stand for something, something unbeatable, something that would always prevail. An ideal of freedom. Liberty. The Cap had understood that, and he’d fought to keep that ideal alive until his dying breath. And in the pit of his stomach. James knew that if the Cap were still here, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have been distracted by Supremacy, unable to notice the conflict inside. He would have stopped it.

 

And now the president was dead, along with God knew how many others. Today, the nation had been put to the test. And it had failed. The military failed, the people failed. James failed. He hadn’t been able to protect a single New York street, let alone the president. And it wasn’t the first time, either. He’d failed to stop the Brotherhood from breaking open Riker’s Island. He’d failed to stop the Hellfire Club from tearing up Times Square, and he’d even failed at keeping his team safe, even though Brando turned out to be alright. 

 

He’d signed on to SHIELD to keep people safe. If he had the strength to do so, he owed it to world to do it. The Captain would be proud, he had thought. The Captain would be proud of what his grandson was doing. And that’s the thought that had sustained him, no matter what he had to go through. No matter what fresh **** of a mission he took, he weathered it because that was the right thing to do.

 

But the world was changing. There was no clear right, no clear wrong. Ideals had proved to be just that, ideals, and all too fragile. And all too easy to break. The world was changing, and he hadn’t changed with it. He honored the memory of an old hero, tried to strive by what they would have wanted, but he failed to see how dated those hopes were.

 

His shield slipped through limp fingers, clanging against the ground. His hand slipped almost unconsciously into his pocket, and brought out his Avengers priority card. Such a  simple design, to be the embodiment of so many ideals. It was a symbol of unity, of strength, and of hope. Despite their name, they had always sought to protect. But their unity had been broken, their strength proven useless, and their hopes foolishly placed. 

 

In a voice that cut through the silent air, he asked a question. Perhaps he was speaking to himself. Maybe he was speaking to the card, maybe the people around him. Or maybe he was speaking to the ideals that had been betrayed.

 

“What good are you?”

[thelonewander]

IC:

 

(Blake/Death)

 

In the span of time I've been with the X-Men, I've been kidnapped by Weapon-X, had to rebuild the mansion, Watch the brotherhood ruin public relations between mutants and humans, and then they executed the president, the only man in power who could of help us, and then watch their leader take a bullet to the head, by a man that died to the phoenix flames at Weapon-X. And don't forget Ashlynn's Phoenix force powers going off, killing Jeremy, and then she goes of and gets kill by her boyfriend's dad. I swear, my life has gone downhill since coming here. Maybe I should of stayed on the street. At least then, it was just living from day to day.  And you would most likely be dead right now. The streets will be in uproar with those leaders dead, and every anti-mutant person out there will be out hunting tonight, or the next one. Either way, you'd wind up dead by the end of the week. Now is the time to plan, and possibly prepare for the end of the world. It's going to get very dark around here, and we need to be ready. The thoughts between Blake and Death went like this for a good while.

 

 

(Scott)

 

With Beast's condition stable, Scott went back to his room. His armor was in bad shape. Half his helmet's visor was gone, melted off by that Scorpion guy. Gather the gear need to make repairs, Scott started the work, with the first thing being to refill his nano-forge levels. he had used up all of it by the end of the fight. It was the first time it had ever happened to Scott, and it would only get worse with the way the world was shaping up. Sighing, Scott got to work.

[Basilisk]

IC (Stevens)

 

Stevens let her gasmask fall to the ground. The filtered air tasted stale and false to her....like a lot of things did at this moment. She glanced at the burning car, at the broken body of the protestor and the burning flag splayed out on it. The scent of burning blood and hair hit her nose like a wave, she shrugged it off. Next to her one of the police officers, a fresh faced kid right of the academy, broke down and started to sob. Some of her men were frozen where they stood, just staring off into space. A few were making a half-hearted attempt to pursue the running mutant, but she could tell they'd fade before they caught up. She looked down at the rifle in her hands. An M16. A good weapon. A steady weapon. A weapon that had been in use for decades. A weapon that had failed to protect the president. She almost let it fall to the ground.

 

All of this chaos. The riot. The rage and anger of the crowd....the resounding roar of the sound cannons, the retort of rifles....all for naught. They'd had snipers all over the block. They had a freakin Apache hovering around in the air....looking lost and unsure. Just like them. None of it had done any good. None of it had meant the slightest **** thing. The President was dead. Johnson was dead.....she glanced all around the street. She saw a few corpsmen moving about, their movements automatic and machine like. Seven bodies. Seven dead marines and officers. Good men and women had died today. For what? The President was still dead. 

 

What were they going to do?

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Bryce:

 

"Good enough to go wreck what's left of those Brotherhood ######s," Bryce growled out, having run after Burnblade as well. "Imprison and register 'em, that's what I say." He stopped, put the safety on his rifle and set it to the side, picking up the shield on the ground. He turned it over in his hands, feeling what weight it had, looking at the pattern upon the front of it.

 

"I'm going to assume you're related to the Cap, even if only by the job," the soldier said, "Though I imagine it goes deeper than that. And hey, think about what the Cap stood for. The same things we, Chambers and I, our squad, what we want to fight for. Peace. Because what the Brotherhood, and maybe even the X-Men don't understand, is that for equality to come, we have to have peace along with it...Shield's probably the only group gets that." He shrugged, tossing the shield back over to James, who almost instinctively caught it again.

 

"And you and I both know the old Cap'd never give up...So don't let yourself do that either, kid, y'hear?" He bent, picking his rifle up again.

 

"Now C'mon, soldier, we've got a riot to quell, politicians to aid and protect, and one lengthy and annoying debriefing here soon. A figure like you'd help with getting the crowd to calm down a bit, because no free man in the USA remembers the Cap in a bad way."

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC Knower
Not moving a muscle, I spoke, my voice clipped and sharp, yet weary, though my face didn't show it.

"I'm sure you know what just happened. Presided Binder is dead, Pietro Maximoff is dead, and Daken Akihiro, who should be dead, is alive. NATO and the UN will be in uproar. This event could be the tipping point, the wafer thin mint that brings with it a whole bunch of other trouble.

"Should we request the aid of Department H and MI-13? I'm sure Alpha Flight and Captain Britain could assist us in some way. Should Asgard, Olympus, and Atlantis be notified as well?"

"As well, the Brotherhood wasn't the only terrorist organization at the scene. Shortly before Binder's assassination, a group claimito be "Servants of Marduk" attacked the conference hall. That warrants investigation, does it? The last thing we need in these times is another jihadist cult."

"Finally, and I'm making this statement purely on conjecture; I have no knowledge of what the higher-ups are doing, but in my opinion, the measures we're taking are too soft; we aren't being extreme enough. If this is not true, then I apologize in advance, but it just occured to me to speak my mind. It seems that we are being a tad too reactive. For instance, we had a lot of evidence to suggest that the Brotherhood of Mutants were headed for Genosha; why didn't we wipe them out the first chance that we got? In my opinion, we need more operations similar to that of the assassination of Osama bin Laden; clandestine strikes with the intention to kill. We know who our enemies are: the Hellfire Club, HYDRA, the Cold-Bloods, etc."

"At the very least, you could provide the more skilled telepaths, remote viewers, and astral projectors some psionics-enhancing equipment. Radionics boxes work wonders for psychics and mages. Those of us skilled in the craft can reach farther than any camera or any satellite." Throughout that whole speech, I didn't move a muscle; I just stared straight ahead, frozen, as of my body was just a shell.

Edited by Constructman, Mar 15 2013 - 10:12 PM.

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

"How old are you, kid?"

 

-Tyler

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

James stared at the shield for a moment, as if mulling over what Bryce had said. After a few long moments, he spoke. "You're right. The Cap wouldn't give up. And he is remembered fondly."

"But you know what? He wouldn't have let this happen in the first place." The supersoldier didn't look up from the shield, continuing to look at it. "If he were here, he wouldn't have been duped. He'd have been in there before things went down, and we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Yeah, someone like him could calm things down. You know who you need? Liberty. She's the one who's actually good at the public relations ****. She's the daughter of the Cap, and by all means, she's better at it than me. What this place needs is Liberty."

"Not another Patriot."

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC Knower
"Fifteen sir. I have been employed bt SHIELD for two months and have been studying psionics for roughly two years. I will admit that I have fairly little experience in comparison to the master theurgists and psions ofthe world. I am also anticipating a long lecture from you about how I shouldn't think too highly of myself as to dare to tell officers at least seven ranks above my level, not couring NCOs, what to do."

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Bryce:

 

"For all I know, she's MIA, and you're all we got, kid." Bryce shrugged. "And hey - everybody makes mistakes. Things similar to this probably happened to the Cap in his early career, and nobody knows about 'em because nobody wanted 'em in the storybooks. And besides..." Here, Bryce grinned.

 

"...I doubt this crowd wants public relations, right now. PR folks only make people angrier. Right now, they probably want a gruff, angry soldier up there, just like the Cap'd be right now. They don't want somebody who'll be calm and collected, they'll want somebody whose got emotions up there, just like they do, and ain't afraid to show 'em. That's what every drill sergeant and CO knows, and I've been under one long enough to figure it out." He nodded his head back at the crowd, still milling about.

 

"So get back there, tell them how ###### you are that this happened to the President, and tell them that, no matter what, you'll make sure to bring these ######s to justice. Because I can see it now: You're going to find a way to do that. Ain't no supersoldier in the world who'd just sit back and take this."

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

 

"Do you know how long I've been at this job?" James said, finally looking up from the shield. "Two months. I've been an agent for years, but the whole "hero" thing is new."

 

"And I don't think I'm cut out for it. In my time, I've gotten my *** kicked at Riker's Island, been beaten into unconsciousness at Times Square, and failed to save the president. That's not a mistake, that's a career of failing. They want a gruff angry soldier? I can't do that. I'm a kid who just passed his twentieth birthday."

 

"You seem pretty good at the pep talk thing. You do it." He held his shield limply at his side, as he started to walk toward the growing crowd. "Get Ares to do it. ****, if you want an Avenger, Howard's always ready to talk your ear off. "

[Kaitholas Cage]

IC: "James." Alyssa's voice was quiet, but easy to hear at the same time. She looked extremely shaken. "This is my first mission. If you give up, if the son of the Captain gives up, what hope do we have?"

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Bryce:

 

"You're forgetting. There's more to it than just the 'gruff angry soldier,'" Bryce growled. "Howard, he's the new Iron Man, ain't he? I bet he's just like the old one. Ares, he's a crazy magician. But you? You're the Captain. Captain America. Face it, kid, I'm not cut out for the job, and nobody else is, are they?" He stopped for a moment, maneuvering himself in front of James, arresting his movement.

 

"You're the only person can put that uniform on without lying to everybody," he said. "You're the only person who can live up to its ideals, and I'll be ****ed if you **** out on me, y'hear? Sometimes, being a hero ain't all about winning. Sometimes its about being able to admit defeat, and then working to ameliorate that in any way possible. Some people just take a bit longer to go from stage one to stage two, but if you keep beatin' up on yourself like this, then you'll never make it, and I think we can both say without a doubt that the Cap wouldn't like that."

[A billion cats]

IC: 

 

"I swear...I leave you home alone for a day and you go out into the middle of a freakin warzone and nearly get yourself killed!" A somewhat older, but quite feminine voice said sharply. "I'm never letting you leave my sight again..." A brown haired, hazel eyed women pushed a young teen with similar hair and eyes in a wheelchair out of the Las Vegas hospital. 

 

"You said that the last time..." Jeff muttered, quite enough however so that her mother didn't hear. "...I can walk just fine mom, why do I have to be in this wheelchair?" 

 

"That's not what the doctor said! You've got a pretty **** serious concussion Jeff Pryde, you're going to take it easy...and do your homework..." 

 

Howework...anything but that... "But Mom my friend is still out there...he walked away from the hospital after barely recovering from a bullet wound! We need to find him!" Jeff pleaded. 

 

"If your friend manged to walk away from the hospital is probably fine. Besides if you hadn't run off and started playing vigilante both of ya would have been perfectly..." Kitty Pryde stopped in mid sentence as she stared directly ahead of her...was that....impossible...

 

Jeff glanced toward the direction his mother was staring at, there was a man, looked like he somewhere in his twenties, with long blonde hair. "Who's that mom?" Jeff asked, his mother looked a bit pale, which unnerved him a bit.

 

"Stay her Jeff...I mean it..." She said a bit hollowly. Leaving Jeff by the hospital entrance she started walking straight toward the man, she had to know if it was who she really thought it was. 

 

"Warren?" 

 

OOC: New profile

 

Spoiler

 

Name: Katherine “Kitty” Pryde

Codename: Shadowcat

Age: 37

Gender: Female

Faction: None

Power(S): Kitty is a mutant with the ability to pass through solid matter by passing her atomic particles through the spaces between the atoms of the object through which she is moving. In this way she and the object through which she is passing can temporarily merge without interacting, and each is unharmed when Shadowcat has finished passing through the object. This process is called "phasing" or quantum tunneling and it renders her almost completely intangible to physical touch Shadowcat passes through objects at the same speed at which she is moving before she enters them. Since she is unable to breathe while inside an object, she can only continuously phase through solid objects (as when she travels underground) as long as she can hold her breath. However, contrary depictions of the duration of her phasing ability have been presented, such as when she has phased miles within an object. The use of her abilities also interferes with any electrical systems as she passes through by disrupting the flow of electrons from atom to atom, including the bio-electric systems of living bodies if she concentrates in the right way. This typically causes machines to malfunction or be destroyed as she phases through them, and can induce shock and unconsciousness in living beings.

Kitty can also extend her powers to phase other people and objects. Currently, she is able to phase at least a half a dozen other people (or objects of similar mass) with her, so long as they establish and maintain physical contact with her. She can extend her phasing effect to her own clothing or any other object with mass up to that of a small truck, as long as she remains in contact with it. Kitty can also make objects intangible by maintaining contact with them.

Appearance: Brown hair, Hazel eyes, roughly 5’6” and about 110 lbs. She has aged rather well, looking roughly the same as she did two decades ago, only minor differences that only people who’ve know her long would notice. 

Weapons: katana blade, throwing shuriken, and splintered bone claws as a hand-held dagger and wrist spike. Yeah, she likes to be prepared for just about anything.

Skills: Besides her mutant powers, Kitty is a genius in the field of applied technology and computer science. She is highly talented in the design and use of computer hardware. She also capable of flying most aircraft, and has advanced skills in martial arts and swordplay. A mother of one rather reckless teen. 

Personality: Kitty Pryde is a caring and enthusiastic woman. Despite the tragedies she's experienced, she is still high spirited as ever. As a mother she is also a quite protective of her son. 

Weakness: Even while phased she is vulnerable to mystic attacks. Certain types of energy blasts can also cause interference with her powers. Denser materials are more difficult for her to phase through, sometimes causing her pain. Solidifying while in an object could cause serious injury if not death.

Bio: Kitty Pryde is one of the few remaining members of the first X-men and survivor of the phoenix attack seventeen years ago. An event that changed her forever, most of her friends perished that day, and the few that survived, such as Beast, still do not know she yet lives. 

She choose to move on to a normal life, got married, had a kid, and has been doing her best to raise her mutant child in very dark and dangerous times. Easier said than done.

 

Edited by Snelly, Mar 15 2013 - 10:49 PM.

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

Warren's muscles froze. When he had first rejoined the X-Men, it had been him who had taken Hank and Alaric by surprise, appeared as though he were a phantom and reintroduced himself with the typical Warren Worthington aplomb. Now he was on the receiving end of that, and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to go back and retroactively punch himself in the nose. His heart was shaking, beating at triple time in excitement, apprehension, and a little bit of disbelief.

 

"Kitty?"

 

-Tyler

[The Snark Knight]

IC:

"And what do you want me to do, huh?"

 

The words were quieter than before, almost resigned. "Get up there, tell them that everything's going to be fine? Tell them we're going to get the people that did this?"

 

"If we were, we'd have taken the Brotherhood down decades ago. If that were true, we'd have taken them down now, before they got the chance to do this." He gestured behind him, to where Stevens was still taking stock of the situation. "We've got over a dozen dead senators, a dead president, and military casualties."

"What am I going to tell them? We already failed once, why should they think we'll succeed?"

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Bryce:

 

"Whatever you feel like saying. But I'm not fit to encourage anybody, I ain't no orator. You, though, you've probably got the Cap's touch. Just get up there, and get everybody calmed down, inspired, and encouraged." He smiled.

 

"That's when the fun part of the plan begins. Also known as the "put your head between your legs and kiss your *** goodbye" stage of planning and action."

[A billion cats]

IC: 

 

Kitty nearly let out a squeal of both surprise and joy as she hugged Warren without warning. "It is you! I can't believe this!" Until now, she thought that Beast and herself had been the only survivors, but her was Warren, better know as Angel in the old days. 

 

Tears flowed down her face a bit as she thought back to that day, a day she'd taken care to forget about as best she could. 

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

"You look great for a girl who's presumed deceased," Warren said with a upward flick of his mouth as he hugged her back. "Hey, Kit."

 

-Tyler

[A billion cats]

IC:

 

"I look great?" Kitty pulled away from the hug a bit to get a good look at Warren. "You should look at yourself, you haven't aged a day."

[Dallas Winston]

IC:

 

"Yeaaah, that's not the first time I've heard that, actually."

 

-Tyler

[Toa Onarax]

IC: Malik

 

Well this has been interesting. 

 

Shut up.

 

Let's see the friends you try to save have ditched you. You learn that all **** broke loose in Vegas and you weren't around to try and stop any of it, to try and help any of those poor, innocent, people. Oh and the Phoenix Force is apparently back, y'know the crazy thing that killed everyone. What else has gone horrible, hmm? You nearly got in trouble with the law, oh and as we're seeing on the T.V. right now, there's a riot in D.C. and President just got killed by some wannabe big shot mutant. Said mutant then got killed himself. This is all so much fun, humanity can be such a bunch of morons.

 

Why the heck can you just never shut up, Malik groaned inwardly, as he paid the bills for his meal and left the restaurant. Truth be told though he was rather annoyed with the state of things, which was the reason Azazel just wasn't letting anything go. However things for him weren't nearly as bad as they could be, so there was some relief in that regard. The tides of this world were changing and Malik still hadn't figured out whether he was being swept away, or carried forward to his destiny.

 

Regardless, the teen mused as he put on his helmet, none of that matters right now. He kicked the engine into the gear, then maneuvered his bike so that he was driving down the road. Right now, especially seeing as Gabe doesn't want me around, I'm back to where I began, wandering on my own. Well almost on my own, now the sole question becomes, where am I heading. 

Edited by Toa Onarax, Mar 15 2013 - 11:13 PM.