Marvel, Rebirth:

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

I turned to look at Ashley, horror showing clearly on my face. "I didn't think she could do that..."

[otter]

IC:

 

Morrison frowned as Christine transformed herself, flying off to Inari-only-knew-where, as he himself shifted into his nine-tailed form. Now there were two in the group who had such a problem, and that meant two that he might potentially have to deal with...the expression on his fox-face couldn't look more disapproving if he was human.

 

"Ah think we'll need a biiig net fer that one," he said, impersonating Christine's accent. "Yee-haw."

[Snelly]

IC: Ashley

 

"Well, as far as I know Christine only copies powers temporarily. Maybe we should just wait it out, get a pair of binoculars and hope she doesn't get into the garden."

Edited January 30, 2014 by Yoko Littner

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC:

 

Matt turned to Aleks with fierceness in his eyes now. "I'm telling you I saw him. If it wasn't John it was definitly a person. When that helicopter flew by I saw him in the searchlight. I know what I saw and I'm going up there. Either you help me or I'll find a way up myself."

 

"You'll kill yourself," Aleksandr protested. "If someone's up there, someone else put them up there, and you know nothing about the tactical situation or even who might be holding someone up there. Let's take some time, scope it out, and then see what we want to do from there."

 

"Fine," Matt said. "Think you can see him with the scope on your gun? Let's climb on that building over there, its not as tall. It doesn't matter the situation or who put him up there, no one should be strapped to a wooden board and left on a rooftop, its inhumane man." Matt said as he felt adrenaline pumping through him. He swore he'd seen John. Something about that face... he knew it so well.

 

"Neither of us can jump from a building."

 

"I'm sure you can find us a way up with your powers right? All we got to do is take a quick look, if it isn't John and looks like some scumbag who deserves to be up there we can leave him." Matt said as he looked upwards, as if he could still see the person he'd seen from all the way down here and at this angel; which he couldn't.

 

Aleksandr should have told him that the scope on his gun was nowhere near as powerful as a scope on a sniper rifle, and that anything he saw could be circumstancial at best, or how his powers didn't make up for good old physical fitness and it was still clearly a potentially fatal series of maneuvers, but at least if he kept two eyes on Matt and stayed within two feet of him, there would be no chance of him going off on his own and getting himself paralyzed. Rolling his eyes and breathing curses in Russian, he turned to the adjacent building and concentrated on the bricks that made it up; enough of them jutted out to provide a decent rock wall experience.

Years of climbing in Murmansk had made Aleks' lithe flame useful for this sort of thing, but Matt was a football player through and through, built for physicality and not for the more limber activities like rock climbing. By the time he'd reached the top, the former Weapon-X freelancer had made his way to the top, behind a generator, and was aiming for a decent look at the figure with his scope. I can't see well. It's dark. If I turn on the red dot, I alert anyone else who may be up there, friendly or hostile...

Sure enough, Matt had been right on one count; it was an X, but whether it was wooden or metal he couldn't tell. A human figure was certainly strapped to it, but he couldn't tell if it was John.

"You're half-right," he finally judged, lowering his pistol but not holstering it. "Matt, we should call the cops. There's a chopper in the area, we just saw it fly over. Let them handle it."

 

"When did we start leaving stuff to the cops? I thought you used to be a mercenary," Matt said breathing hard and doubling over from the climb. "We both used to be X-Men, well you sort of were. We wouldn't have left this to the cops before. We're mutants and right now we're acting as vigilantes. **** the cops let's check it out ourselves."

 

Aleksandr should have told him that this was a world-class stupid god ###### idea, even for him. He should have told him that being a mercenary was not like in the movies where you ignored every law ever and killed anything for any cost. He should have reminded him that Matt was currently completely in costume, in full X-Men regalia, and that if he were caught interfering in something like this anything that happened would come down hard on Westchester. This time, he did; he ranted every tactical nuance, every logistical uncertainty, every common sense failing, and he went all out with it. By the time he was done, Matt and caught his breath and regained his energy from the climb. The night was silent.

 

"If I climb down right now and go back to the Camaro, will you do this anyway?"

 

"You already know the answer. I have too. I swore I saw John's face. I know that face. He looked messed up. I have to help him. Even if its not him I owe it to John to try." Matt said. He didn't care about breaking laws. He didn't care that he was wearing his X-Suit and that he could get the school in trouble. All he cared about was that his friend was potentially in danger and needed help. That's why Matt dressed in this thing anyway to help people. If he couldn't help one of his bestfriends then what was the point? He didn't put it on to be a coward and to worry about laws. He put it on to get done what needed to get done, and right now Matt knew he needed to get to the top of that building. He could feel it in his gut.

 

Aleksandr should have told him that he owed nothing to John if it wasn't John, but regardless he breathed another curse - English this time - and concentrated hard on the bricks that made up the ledge to this building. He built himself a slightly diagonal bridge from the bricks and leaned down over the generator while it was constructing its way to the roof.

"I run point. If you hear anything, come back down here and duck. I can hold my own. Someone needs to get back to Westchester and tell them if your stupid theory turns out to be right on some whim. Agreed?"

Matt nodded, and Aleks turned to the now-completed bridge of bricks and wrapped himself around it, slowly shimmying up and staying out of the way of any lit windows. He held his gun under the strap where he held his knife so he could keep both hands on his improvised construct; if he put his free hand on something and it stabbed him, he didn't want to let go and plummet to his death into the street below. Finally, after a hundred and seventy six seconds of steady, upwards climbing, Aleks put his hands on the ledge of the building and looked around. The X was just within arm's reach, and he swung with his legs like a pendulum and rolled onto the roof. He didn't see the outline of any more people...

To be safe, his eye caught the golden rim of an empty beer can by his foot and nudged it over; if anyone were there, it could be played off as the sound of the captive's foot clunking against his drink from earlier. If not--

"Who's there?" a quiet voice asked. Aleks' heart stopped for a second. I don't believe it.

"Howlett," he breathed quietly, so that no one would hear. "It's English. Any hostiles?"

 

Summers watched as Aleks brick stairs began to extend upwards towards the top of the skyscraper.

 

"You never cease to amaze me Aleks," Matt said as he watched the stairs form before Aleks began to quickly climb up them. Matt followed him upwards, climbing up the seemingly never ending flight of brick stairs as they climbed higher and higher. Matt could feel his heart thudding in his chest; his gun held tightly in his hands, ready to use in a moments notice if needed. Was John really up there? Or was Matt just crazy? Was he about to get them both killed because of what he thought he'd seen?

 

He shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts as Aleks neared the top. Matt pulled himself up just in time to hear the quiet voice. John. It really is John.

 

"Oh god John... it is you."

 

"Matt? Aleks?" John said weakly. "You guys shouldn't be here. You need to get out of here quick."

 

"You don't have to tell me twice. ####" Aleksandr kept to the shadows, stealthy and sly as ever, and slowly made his way to the X. He spread out his body to make it look as though he were a part of the construct itself and clandestinely checked for bindings. His hands are free. There was a trap here, Aleks could smell a trap here, he was only held from the waist down...

Something banged on the roof, like a book falling. Maybe it was the rest of the beer. Maybe...

"John," he breathed into Howlett's ear. "Talk fast. We don't have a lot of time here. Who is--"

"Hellooooooo!"

The world stopped. Oh, no. He knew that voice, had heard that voice on a newscast a lifetime ago, had heard that voice even further back, when he had been trying to smuggle the X-Men out of Canada...

Something had banged. Too late, far too late, too ###### late, Aleksandr Belikov realized that a door had opened and closed. And he'd written it off, god ###### it.

 

"To whom it may concern," said Daken Akihiro, grin gleaming even in the darkness of New York's midnight hour, "you're quiet. And you're quick. You're not as quiet as you think you are. So, on a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your quickness?"

 

IC:

 

Christine wasn't in control of her body anymore. She'd been pushed back. She was still coherent, somewhere inside her mind, but whatever this thing was, this demon that Sierra had created in her own head was now in control. It flapped its wings as it soared over the countryside, flying away from the group and towards New York City in the distance. It liked all of the lights.

Edited January 30, 2014 by Flex Cop

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

"Unless, of course, she decides to go somewhere more populated."

[Snelly]

IC: Ashley

 

"Yeahhhhhh...that wouldn't be good." Ashley sighed nervously. "But how do we catch a big flying wolf?"

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

"Christine has friends at the institute, right? We could try asking someone who cares about her for help." I suggested, not to keen on the other options.

[Snelly]

IC: Ashley

 

"I am her friend!" Ashley exclaimed. "But you're right! We need to get some help, maybe from actual teachers!"

Edited January 30, 2014 by Yoko Littner

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Where, at Xavier's? Good luck."

 

-Tyler

[Light]

IC: "I assume nothing, Ms. Worthington. I rarely deal with anyone without investigating them first. Nor did I say being a murderer or having power was a bad thing, merely that we do not need more murderers in this particular group. Killing is so... Counterproductive."

 

Mady checked something off a mental checklist, mapping another part of Annie's mental profile.

 

"Ms. Binder, I have a feeling that there's an example of the problems a search for power can bring very close by, though I don't know how you'd react to seeing him..."

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "You've been urged to leave. I suggest you choose to either disperse or sit down and shut up," Annie said, quite tired with being openly harassed.

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC:

 

"Wow, lasttime I checked I asked for Annie's help, not yours miss."

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

"Whatever we decide to do, we'd better make it quick." I said urgently. "Christine probably isn't in control anymore. You remember the library? That's what happens when the transformation is involuntary."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Johnny, why haven't you introduced me to our house guests yet?" Daken asked innocently, walking around in a relative circle by the door. "Poor manners, little brother. I expected better."

 

He grinned, a predatory white grin that shimmered like a mirage against the coal backdrop that was the Manhattan night. John's breathing was ragged and quick; he could see the outlines of others, two at least but maybe more, but he couldn't see what weapons they may be carrying or any indications of who they were.

 

"You're probably wondering why my timing was so perfect. In the interest of full disclosure, I have a precog now. Did you know that, Johnny? You saw her on the way in. Feisty little thing, cute as a button, pinball wizard. She told me that you were having yourself a little rave up here with some friends. Think they're enjoying the show so far? We have refreshments, if you worked up some thirst. Plenty of beer; cheap, but it'll do the trick. Pizza? We have enough pizza to last through winter. Come on, just talk to me. You can make this very easy, or I can make this very difficult, unless someone ###### ANSWERS ME!"

 

"Daken, this is Aleks and Matt Summers. I have no idea how they found me. Now please let them leave. Both of you need the get the ###### out of here right now." John said. Knowing that both of them were in danger with Daken's presence.

 

Daken stopped pacing and spun around like a dancer on his toes, pirouetting to a stop facing John. His smile widened a bit. "Matt Summers? You told me about a Matt Summers, didn't you, John? Back in Canada, when we were doing our last brotherly bonding shtick?" His voice raised. "Can you hear me, Matt? I'd love to get to know you! John's told me quite a bit! It would be an honor for me to meet the only X-Man stupid enough to suck on his pacifier backwards as a baby. I was an awful baby, too. Step out here into the light and maybe we can share some stories over a drink. No? Fine."

 

Across the skyscraper's roof, the signal lights around the helipad lit up, casting everything into view. Daken wore a designer short-sleeve button up and crimson tie, with the same jeans and boots he wore earlier. His eyes narrowed in on Matt first; he was standing straight up, and Akihiro couldn't help but laugh in his face.

 

"Wow, is that supposed to be a uniform? Are you supposed to be from Star Trek? Were you planning to just beam my little brother back to the Enterprise? Was this your master plan?"

 

-Tyler

Edited January 30, 2014 by Aegon Targaryen

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC:

 

Matt stared Daken down as the lights came on. His eyes narrowing slowly. He glanced back at John for a moment now that the lights had come on. John looked terrible. He was scarred all over and he looked practically to be skin and bones. His face was overgrown with facial hair and his hair had been shaved short. The worst of it however were his eyes. What had they done to his eyes? Matt noticed errie pure white mechanical looking eyes surrounded by purple and orange scar tissue. He looked up at John's hands and saw three dark scabs where John's claws usually came out of, as if they'd been torn out of him.

 

"What have you done to him?" Matt said, his voice dripping with venom. He raised the markov Aleks had given him and aimed it at Daken's chest. "We're taking John with us and you're going to leave him alone from now on." Matt said, ignoring Daken's taunts.

 

"Try something and I'll gun you down."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Daken sighed, eyes spinning like carousels as they rolled in exasperation. "What am I to do with these friends of yours, Johnny? They refuse my pizza, they refuse my beer, they don't laugh at my jokes, and now they're throwing away their lives."

 

"Just let them go Daken. You gain nothing from killing them. Matt shut up and go back down that brick staircase and don't look back. I'm begging both of you, leave me here. I'll be fine."

 

"You should really listen to my brother," Akihiro implored them as he took a cool, casual step forward, then another; his boots clicked against the helipad like a gun's empty chamber. "He's become quite the Jedi Master since I gave him the old one t--"

"Don't take another step, I'm serious I won't hesitate to shoot you." Matt said. In all reality he would love to blast Daken right about now. After he saw what he'd done to John. He deserved it, but that wasn't how Matt operated. "We're not leaving without John."

 

"Maybe you're not, but you're not living with him. What about your friend in the corner? He's been quiet. You willing to risk his life?" Daken smirked. "Speak up, my little shadow! I'm dying to hear your voice in all this."

 

" yourself."

 

"A Russian! You keep weird friends, Johnny. I'm going to call them Live Free," he said, pointing at Aleks, "and Die Hard," as he pointed at Matt. "Fine. Since Johnny pleaded so prettily, I won't. Toss me a beer while your hands are free, John. This should be good."

 

As he spoke, half a dozen Oscorp security officers stepped out from behind the door and spread out into a semicircle, guns trained on the two X-Men and the mercenary.

 

-Tyler

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC:

 

"All of you shut up! Matt, Aleks! You will die if you don't leave now! I swear my brother will kill you, you don't know how he is. Its not worth it, I'm not worth your lives so just shut up and leave." John shouted. He grabbed a beer and tossed it to Daken, hoping that his brother had found some semblance of mercy inside his cold heart. But that's when he saw the Oscorp troops spreading out, weapons trained on his friends.

 

"****." John muttered. He felt powerless still strapped to the X. Even if freed he was still weak from being tortured and lack of food, he wouldn't be able to do much.

 

"We're not leaving you. That's not what real friends do." Matt said. He watched as the Oscorp guards came out with weapons of their own.

 

"If its a fight you want, its a fight you'll get." Matt turned his fun away from Daken and fired three times at one of the Oscorp guards. His free hand flew up as well as he unleashed a stream of bright red kinetic energy. The energy lit up the rooftop as it blasted towards the line of guards.

 

"Aleks! Can you give me some cover?!" Matt shouted. Two of his first three shots had hit their mark and Matt watched as one of the Oscorp guards fell back his head snapping back. The kinetic energy slammed into another guard launching him into the air and hitting him with about the same force as getting hit by a car going 60 miles an hour. The guard flew away from the rooftop before vanishing from sight.

 

The other guards instantly began firing at Matt once he attacked. Pain tore through Matt's shoulder as he felt a bullet burst through his suit and burry itself in his flesh. Bullets exploded around Matt as he dove for cover behind a large metal generator.

 

Sparks burst in the air as the bullets bounced off the metal as the guards slowly advanced towards Matt's position. Breathing hard Matt waited for a moment before rolling away from the generator. He leveled his chest at the large metal contraption and then fired a massive blast of kinetic energy. The energy slammed into the generator; tearing it from the rooftop and flinging it forward. The generator slammed into one of the oncoming guards like a train, he was thrown backwards along with the generator before being crushed against the far side of the rooftop.

 

Now without cover Matt fired from his low position. Two of his shots burst into the legs of another guard, crumpling him to the ground. Matt finished him with a third shot to the chest before his markov clicked empty. Matt cursed as he jumped away from his position tossing the gun to the ground as he brought up his palms. Twin blasts of kinetic energy burst forth slamming into the last two Oscorp guards and sending them flying. He hit them with enough force to break bones on impact.

 

Matt slowly got to his feet, red steam glowing from his palms and chest as he stared Daken down. "Is that all you got?" he said. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and the feeling of his own warm blood slowly oozing from the wound.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"You're hurt, kid," Daken said, finishing his last sip of beer and crushing the can between his index and middle fingers. "You won't last a minute in a fight against me. It's not too late for you to turn around and crawl away. It's the only mercy you're going to get, and it's only for my brother's sake. Don't on it."

 

"You underestimate me," Matt said. He unleashed a kinetic blast from his hand, aiming to knock the crushed beer can from Daken's grasp and fling it away. "I'm not backing down. We're taking John with us. Either you stand down and let us take him or we're going to have a problem."

The helipad lights were flickering sporadically after the generator was destroyed, but Matt's power more than made up for the light. Daken flicked the beer can up into the air and let Matt's kinetic blast swipe it away; the metal cut into the top layer of skin on his cheek, sending a few trickles of blood down Daken's left cheek like fingers creeping out from under a blanket. Akihiro turned to his little brother with a sympathetic look. "Sorry, little brother," he said, so softly it may have been sincere. "You can't say I didn't try."

Claws crept out from his knuckles and wrists, and Daken Akihiro pushed himself off his makeshift seat and began to stalk towards Matt.

Matt fired a quick blast from his chest; attempting to blast Daken back before he could come any closer.

"Daken! No! Don't kill him!" John shouted struggling in his bonds. "Hurry up Aleks!"

. Daken had almost forgotten the Russian; he spun midstep and diverted his course towards John even as the Russian sawed away at the bonds at his waist - his arms and legs were both free now and he was bound solely around the center. Howlett was free enough to aim a single punch at Daken's chest, which he easily caught and repaid with a left cross against the cheek. Aleks stood up, quick as a cat - quicker than Daken had thought - and whipped out a Magnum even as Daken grabbed him by the hair. He dragged the Russian from around the wooden X by the hair, even as Belikov pulled the trigger. Then again. And again. And again.

Even Daken was not a juggernaut; the four bullets made him back off, holding his gut in pain, and Aleks capitalized by taking a quick step forward with one foot and stabbing Daken through the side of the neck with his knife. He roared out in agony as blood bubbled from his mouth and in his throat, and grabbed out for Aleks, catching him by the wrist and pulling him into an elbow that crunched against his face. Matt was firing kinetic blasts, so he spun around and grabbed Aleks by the hair, positioning him in front of Daken's chest. Blood ran down onto Aleks' tight clothes and down his fair features. Standstill.

"Fine," Daken rasped, even as his throat repaired itself and the knife slid out gingerly from his neck. "Fine. The Russian first. Then you."

He spun the knife in his hand and went for the stab.

"No! Aleks!" Matt shouted. He unleashed a blast from his hand trying to knock the knife out of Daken's hand as he ran forward. Twin blades of red kinetic energy shimmered from each palm as Matt continued to run. "Leave. Him. Alone."

After that, the world went mad.

-Tyler

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC:

 

Matt cursed as Daken moved out of the way of his kinetic blast. He didn't stop there as he kept running. Unleashing a second and third blast from his chest at Daken. Matt watched as the streams of red kinetic energy slammed into Daken; knocking him backwards a ways and flinging him onto the rooftop. Matt came towards Aleks now slowly. "We need to get out of here before he has a chance to regain his energy."

 

Aleks nodded, catching his breath and moving in front of the x-factor of the mission. What ties still bound him could be pulled away with a simple show of strength, and Aleks ripped them away; just like that, John Howlett was free. "Daken has my knife, but we can keep him at a distance with the Magnum so he can't close in. If you hadn't dropped the Makarov, I could give you an extra clip or two. I always carry extra. As it is I think we can do fine--"

 

"I lost the Makarov. It doesn't matter. I'm sorry I have to do this Aleks but I have to make sure you two get out of here and he doesn't have a chance to hunt you down. I'm sorry it had to end this way. Aleks... I love you." Matt was standing about ten feet away from the Russian and John now who was resting in Aleks arms. Matt blinked away tears as time slowed around him. Everything felt so peaceful as red light flashed from his chest, illuminating Aleks and John's faces in red. The kinetic energy slammed into the ground at their feet. The pavement of the rooftop exploded underneath them; throwing them into the air from the force of the impact and away from the rooftop; both of them tumbling away towards the brick bridge Aleks had made.

 

Aleks Belikov wasn't sure when he realized what was happening. Maybe it was the belated "Summers, don't do this--" before the world glowed red around him. Maybe it was when they started flying. His mind was always logical, always tactically minded, always racing to keep up with the latest in what was happening where, always adapting, but it had blanked. The world was flying, and it was so red.

For just a second, though, they weren't. Aleks was suspended above the world. He saw Daken stand and spin the knife in his hand, as he had just a minute before. He watched Matt fall, clutching his leg. He got the strange feeling he was missing something in between, like there was a frame that had been cut out in post-production of some awful, realistic movie, but then it was gone.

They hit the bridge and began to roll.

John, already weakened from hunger and torture and God knew what else, hit his head and slumped; Aleks' shoulders and back were jarred, and he'd taken his own thump on the noggin too, but he kept his wits about him through the deafening screams of kinetic energy flying and the duller roar of his headache. He reached out with his mind and manipulated the bridge, breaking it up into chunks and sending it falling. Now and again they'd land on a piece that stuck to a building, and it would jar him further, but Aleks kept himself conscious through willpower, even as he hit a leg. An arm. A shoulder. His head again. His head again. By now he was surely concussed, maybe even hemorrhaging, but if he closed his eyes he'd die. The fall's momentum would kill them both if he closed his eyes.

He could save John. He could still save Matt, if he didn't close his eyes.

They bounced off the final pillar, and Aleks Belikov turned his head slightly to see a dumpster below them, and trash bags all around. Shelters. Homeless people were living here. Matt and I thought they were blast victims. If we could just land...

His back jarred one last time under the brick and he spun through the air freely for the last forty feet. CRACK!

Something sweet and foul filled his nostrils. The world flashed a sad, deep red one last time. He could feel John bleeding, convulsing, dying, maybe...

Aleks closed his eyes.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

The first thing that shocked Aleks English on his pilgrimage west was God.

 

"Where...am I?"

 

Everyone believed in God. From the Presidents and leaders of the "free world" to the scum of the streets and the poorest of the poor, faith in the Lord Above soaked into every aspect of life from law to entertainment. Aleks could never understand why; outside of America's limited confines there were such a thing as blind spots, where God could not hope to keep his eyes and the people could not hope to keep their love for Him. Murmansk had been one such place: cold, desolate, and dreary, its finest quality could safely be said that at least it was habitable for human beings. God had no place there; only the strong survived and only the powerful thrived, and God was neither. If he had been, he would have saved Katerina Belikov. One day, when confessing, he said as much to the priest in the hurried rush of words that strike during one's youth. At first, he was tongue tied; as he ranted and raved, the words came easier. When he was done, he could feel the priest's gaze warm him, but by that point he was crying, and the air was already killing the tears on his face.

 

"The Lord does not abide by stealing, young Aleksei," the priest said, not unkindly, with one hand on the thirteen year old's long crop of chocolate hair and the other sanctimoniously resting on his Bible. "He never has. The Lord commands."

"But my mother is starving," young Aleksei protested, managing to enunciate his plea in Russian as best he could while he cried the last tears his eyes had ever known. They had frozen to his cheeks in the Arctic chill, and nothing had filled the void they left behind. "If God is real, and He looks down on thieves, why did He make my mother hungry?"

The priest smiled a sad, soft smile, and ruffled his head and told him what a smart boy he was. But he had never answered Aleks' question. Crime had. Westchester had. Even Weapon-X had given him an answer to his mother's troubles (and to his) in its own way. But God never spoke up. Whenever He held out His Hand, there may have been love or compassion or security somewhere that he was trying to offer, but all Aleks could see is that He didn't have any food.

 

His father was the same way: gave Aleks half his genes, stuck around to see him born, and then ran off right into God's waiting arms. It was a sin if Aleks stole to save two lives, but God took away his father. No one gave Him for that.

 

He'd heard it said more than once that perhaps he was the son of some famous mutant. Piotr Rasputin came up frequently - Aleks' skill in battle, Russian heritage, and ability to fight through almost anything was constantly touted as evidence that the thief could not discern his own parents. As theories went, it was more believable than most of the others, but he never considered it, not for a second.

Piotr Rasputin did not have his father's eyes, and only Aleks' tear ducts could turn to steel. He'd prove it, if only he could open his eyes. In the meantime, he was Aleks English, and he would not be starved of his answers again. "Where am I?" he repeated through gritted teeth, working up the strength to open his eyes. "Will not...ask...again."

"About time you woke up," John said as he sat next to Aleks. Another figure, was standing near them. None other then Kane Johnson who was currently puffing on a cigarette.

"You have one of those things for me?" John asked. Made it.

Slowly, he saw - the light burned, the way it had burned on the roof of the skyscraper, but his father's eyes were sharp and quick, and he got over it fast. "Neither of those was an answer to my question." Then his gaze shifted to the other figure, dark-featured and brooding, smoking a cigarette and watching him. "Johnson?"

-Tyler

[Eyru]

IC

Lights flashed. Bells and buzzers sounded. Tinny music blared through tiny speakers, announcing yet another new high score.

The flippers tapped up and down, up and down, up and down.

Click. Click. Click.

And the silver ball spun along the board, lighting up a string of LEDs along its path.

Five seconds later, the silver ball spun along the board, lighting up a string of LEDs along its path.

Angela Dean played with her eyes closed.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

"Daken?"

Daken's wrist claws slid out of the two soft pockets of flesh on each shoulder, the ones that marked Matt Summers' clavicle. When he did, blood went flying like he'd taken a sabre to a bottle of champagne. Various scents drifted from the door he'd taken; had he turned, the flickering lights of the helipad would have disguised the blood that had shot out over his chest and arms, as well as his dark wardrobe, but it could not have disguised his snarl. He was uncharacteristically...something. The ones who tried to point out Daken's specific negative moods rarely spoke of anything they'd learn. Akihiro wasn't even trying to cover up his frustration.

"They have my brother," he said unceremoniously, as the X-Man's corpse slumped to the ground. It was too dark to engage in further pursuit of any kind, and the people Daken had already sent down to check the surrounding block came up empty. Someone had already made off with them. They have my brother. The blood trickled down his wrist as his claws slipped back into his arms, dripped down his fingers and hit the roof.

Daken Akihiro was a drifter when his father had been murdered. In truth, he'd been having what a normal person could call a bit of a midlife crisis -w ith few funds, few ideas of where to go, few people who would take him in, Daken had a grand idea of where he wanted his life to go and no means to make it happen. The plan had been put on standby when he got the terse invitation from Hank McCoy, saying by no means had Hank forgotten his atrocities (always a great way to start an invitation) but his father was dead, bygones needed to be bygones, and, oh yeah. He had a little brother. That, if nothing else, had piqued his attention. He knew enough about the circumstances of his own birth to wonder what this model of mini-Logan had turned out like. What he saw was a cute, drooling, healthy looking kid, spitting image of his father as he probably looked as an infant, with expressive blue eyes and a doting smile. He wasn't sure whether to feel disappointed or a little relieved; he'd stuck around just long enough to hear John say his name, and then he'd left, as was family tradition by that point.

Once or twice, when John had said his name, he'd thought of that baby. Beating the ###### out of every inch of his little brother hadn't been as easy as it had been before those moments, but he'd managed it with some sort of dark, relaxed calm all the same. And he felt fine. Just dandy.

It's the twerp's own fault. He betrayed me. Betrayed me for the X-Men, betrayed me for Ashlynn, betrayed me for some stupid girl. As if there was anything about Lilliana Schneider that Daken could love. She was pretty enough, but insipid and dull, lacking in any sort of wit or cleverness. She reminded Daken of an Easter egg: paint it up, dress it right, and you can make something special out of her. Crack her just a little bit, and you see she's just full of worthless yoke that really doesn't taste much good unless it's with bacon and cheese on a biscuit. I could have been all the brother John needed, taught him how to become powerful. And he chose her over him. Who in their right mind would choose her over him? And now he'd left again. Daken had half a mind to hunt him again, but another part of him, a part best left forgotten and buried, whispered in protest.

He's your brother. If he comes back, great. If not, he's not worth the time. Greatness is suffering - if he can't handle the suffering, let him live a shallow life.

He'd let John do what he wished, but the way John had looked at him on that X still rankled. I told him he didn't have to worry about starving, or getting hit, or losing his mind. I told him I was done. You could have believed me for once. I've never lied to you. And still John had abandoned him.

 

The X-Men had his brother. His wrist claw popped back out and he bent down to his knees again, slicing the fabric of Matt's costume along his back and pulling on the two halves. Leaving him on this roof was only asking for further problems, especially if anyone happened to catch something from an aerial view (what a sight to see on Google Earth) so Daken hefted Matt's body easily out of his costume and walked over to the edge of the balcony. The lights flickered yet again, like Matt's kinetic blasts had when Daken had moved in on him. Red, and black. Red, then black. Red. Red. Black, forever.

This was the last of the Summers family, in his grip. On his hands. Staining his clothes.

He was God's problem now. God's problem, and the problem of the good people of the New York City branch of Waste Management Recycling and Disposal.

"Au revoir, Summers," he said, and tossed Matt's body over the edge, into the dark void that led to the trash and filth of the gutter rats of the city. He held the costume in his other hand, and decided to hang it in the playroom. For now. He'd find a way to make the X-Men regret he ever saw it. Maybe John, too. He hadn't decided. He's still your brother, said that incessant part of him again, and Daken turned on his heel and stalked the length of the helipad again. The Oscorp security, the cleanup crew...even Asa. They hadn't taken a step forward from their original positions. He smiled at her as he walked by.

 

"I need a bath," he said. "There's a bottle of shampoo and a bottle of champagne with your name on them."

Daken held out the hand with less blood on it. Ripple looked at it and hesitated. He smiled.

"I don't bite, Asa," he promised, and then: "...Unless you're into it. In which case, I'm flexible. Promise."

She looked up to him, trying to read his steel eyes, and then back to his hand. Finally, she smiled back at him, and she took the killer's hand.

-Tyler

Edited January 31, 2014 by Aegon Targaryen

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"I don't quite think that you'll be able to try them all." Tera commented to Aella dryly, setting down her silverware and leaning back from the table. Truthfully, she hadn't finished her food. Normally she'd have eaten it all in a heartbeat and gone looking for more, but this time, she wasn't feeling very hungry. Though she wasn't nearly so upset as she was before, her stomach was still tying itself in knots, knots that tightened whenever she thought about the city. Or her home. Or her parents. Or the future.

 

...

 

Maybe she should just stop thinking.

 

The room seemed to have descended into awkward silence, and that really wasn't helping anything. Without conversation, she had nothing else to focus on. She needed to find a topic, quickly.

 

"So um, Aella... Erm."

 

IC:

 

Jameson sighed, massaging his temples.

 

This whole day was a nightmare. He'd spent the day issuing instructions, speaking into a phone, yelling into a phone, signing paperwork, making statements, delivering a speech... All of these things that he needed to do, and yet, only now, hours later, did he have time to sit down and even think about his own life. The first thing he'd done when he had a spare minute was check on the staff of the Bugle, his old government office, and his extended family. Almost all of them were accounted for, safe and sound. A few old friends were missing for hours, and it was several nerve-wracking hours before they were able to get word that they were safe. Scrapes, bruises, a broken bone or two, that's all that anyone had sustained.

 

Though now he was forced to watch New York's finest, at least the people who used to be their finest, make fools of themselves. He scowled, taking a sip of his water.

 

Dominik Lord, current leader of the reformed Brotherhood of Mutants. He was a radical departure from his predecessors, and truthfully, Jameson agreed with him on more than a few points. But his almost childish insistence on getting the better of those who disagreed with him was irksome to say the least. Not surprising; Considering how MACE had dealt with the previous head, it was a miracle he wasn't violent.

 

Not that the previous head had been very helpful either.

 

Shaking his head, he pushed that line of thought aside. The NYPD wasn't his problem anymore, nor was the Brotherhood's former leaders. What's done was done.

 

Though admittedly.... He scratched his beard thoughtfully. Jameson might still have some unofficial favors he could call in. Get them to shape up in the north.

 

Perhaps he'd do that.

 

IC:

 

"England was fine. Nothing too uneventful, and it was very nice to be back in the land of the sane." Tossing the cloth used to smother the flames back into his bag, he did his best to ignore the smell of burnt hair.

 

"In response to your first question, kitsunes lack a sense of humor."

Edited January 31, 2014 by Simon the Digger

[Snelly]

IC: Ashley

 

"Oh oh! We should borrow the Blackbird and fetch Christine with it!" Ashley looked at Dallas. "The teachers never use it anyway, wanna help me get it Dal? They probably won't even notice it's missing."

 

IC: Aella

 

"Hmm?" I cooed, opening my eyes to look at Tera. Since I had finished eating, and there hadn't been any sort of conversation to keep me awake, I had nearly dozed off.

 

"What's up?" I asked Tera curiously, who seemed to be having trouble finishing her sentence for some reason. Normally I'd be the one looking confused and asking questions, for the moment it seemed to be the other way around and I found this interesting.

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"..."

 

"I have no idea." Tera admitted sheepishly, crossing her arms. "The silence was uncomfortable, which is odd because normally I like quiet, and I was trying to find a topic of conversation, and I was coming up short; So I ended up just stuttering and making noise to try and fill the silence."

 

"... That was a long rant, and probably didn't help."

[Snelly]

IC: Aella

 

"Wow, and I thought I was the odd one here." I smiled. "Turns out you're just as much of a weirdo as I am."

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

"The Blackbird..." I said to myself thoughtfully. "Is it the thing that the X-Men used to get to Las Vegas?"

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"I'm not weird!"

 

Tera protested, scowling slightly. "It's been an off day. Normally the quiet would be great. I'd go to the gym, or I'd read a book. Right now it's just... Uncomfortable."

Edited January 31, 2014 by Simon the Digger

[Snelly]

IC: Aella

 

"Hey it's okay to be weird. I won't judge." I was enjoying seeing Tera get flustered, maybe a little too much.

 

Gym registered as some sort of place, I didn't know what it was for though. Books however...I knew what those were. I'd been given books to read before, most of the time they'd been rather simple and boring, probably to test if I could still read. Thankfully that wasn't something I needed to relearn, I already knew how to read, even if I was a little slow at it...a lot of words still seemed to go over my head, or I just couldn't remember what they meant.

IC: Ashley

 

"Yepper! We just need to borrow it for a little while. No way someone with batwings can outrun a jet aircraft!"

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

She stared at Aella for several long moments. Well, it was less a stare, and more a glare, complete with crossed arms and a scowl. Placing her silverware on her plate, clearly accepting the fact that she wasn't going to be able to eat anymore, her scowl turned into a slight grin.

 

"You're evil. Careful, I might decide I want to sleep on the floor after all."

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

"Ashley." I looked her in the eyes. "Do you even know how to fly the Blackbird? Or where it is for that matter?"

[Snelly]

IC: Ashley

 

"Sure!" Ashley said, no doubt in her voice. "I've flown inside it lots of times and so has Dallas. It shouldn't be a problem!" Ashley beamed.

 

"We know where it is too don't worry!"

 

IC: Aella

 

I gasped. "Nuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...." I made a pouty face. "I'll behave...for now."

[Flex Lord Splash]

 

IC:

 

The first thing that shocked Aleks English on his pilgrimage west was God.

 

"Where...am I?"

 

Everyone believed in God. From the Presidents and leaders of the "free world" to the scum of the streets and the poorest of the poor, faith in the Lord Above soaked into every aspect of life from law to entertainment. Aleks could never understand why; outside of America's limited confines there were such a thing as blind spots, where God could not hope to keep his eyes and the people could not hope to keep their love for Him. Murmansk had been one such place: cold, desolate, and dreary, its finest quality could safely be said that at least it was habitable for human beings. God had no place there; only the strong survived and only the powerful thrived, and God was neither. If he had been, he would have saved Katerina Belikov. One day, when confessing, he said as much to the priest in the hurried rush of words that strike during one's youth. At first, he was tongue tied; as he ranted and raved, the words came easier. When he was done, he could feel the priest's gaze warm him, but by that point he was crying, and the air was already killing the tears on his face.

 

"The Lord does not abide by stealing, young Aleksei," the priest said, not unkindly, with one hand on the thirteen year old's long crop of chocolate hair and the other sanctimoniously resting on his Bible. "He never has. The Lord commands."

"But my mother is starving," young Aleksei protested, managing to enunciate his plea in Russian as best he could while he cried the last tears his eyes had ever known. They had frozen to his cheeks in the Arctic chill, and nothing had filled the void they left behind. "If God is real, and He looks down on thieves, why did He make my mother hungry?"

The priest smiled a sad, soft smile, and ruffled his head and told him what a smart boy he was. But he had never answered Aleks' question. Crime had. Westchester had. Even Weapon-X had given him an answer to his mother's troubles (and to his) in its own way. But God never spoke up. Whenever He held out His Hand, there may have been love or compassion or security somewhere that he was trying to offer, but all Aleks could see is that He didn't have any food.

 

His father was the same way: gave Aleks half his genes, stuck around to see him born, and then ran off right into God's waiting arms. It was a sin if Aleks stole to save two lives, but God took away his father. No one gave Him ###### for that.

 

He'd heard it said more than once that perhaps he was the son of some famous mutant. Piotr Rasputin came up frequently - Aleks' skill in battle, Russian heritage, and ability to fight through almost anything was constantly touted as evidence that the thief could not discern his own parents. As theories went, it was more believable than most of the others, but he never considered it, not for a second.

Piotr Rasputin did not have his father's eyes, and only Aleks' tear ducts could turn to steel. He'd prove it, if only he could open his eyes. In the meantime, he was Aleks English, and he would not be starved of his answers again. "Where am I?" he repeated through gritted teeth, working up the strength to open his eyes. "Will not...ask...again."

"About time you woke up," John said as he sat next to Aleks. Another figure, was standing near them. None other then Kane Johnson who was currently puffing on a cigarette.

"You have one of those things for me?" John asked. Made it.

Slowly, he saw - the light burned, the way it had burned on the roof of the skyscraper, but his father's eyes were sharp and quick, and he got over it fast. "Neither of those was an answer to my question." Then his gaze shifted to the other figure, dark-featured and brooding, smoking a cigarette and watching him. "Johnson?"

-Tyler

 

 

IC:

 

"Welcome to the Brotherhood Red-cross camp."

 

Kane opened his pack before handing John a cigarrete. John then leaned forward and Kane flicked his fingers before a small flame jumped to life; lighting the end of John's stogie.

 

"Yeah, its me. Good to know you don't have amnesia after that fall. You both were pretty banged up when we found you." Kane said before exhaling a stream of smoke form his nostrils.

 

"Didn't take you for a smoker Howlett."

 

"I'm usually not, but I've been through HeII lately. I feel like I coulda used a smoke."

 

"Looks like someone did a number on you... what's with your eyes man? Weapon-X come back or something?"

 

"Naw, first it was the Hand, then it was Oscorp. Much worse."

 

IC:

 

Christine awoke sometime later in a dirty alleyway. The first thing she noticed was she was freezing. Her clothed were almost completely shredded. "Ah HeII..." Christine mumbled as she got to her feet. She glanced around her surroundings, not remembering much after her transformation other then she'd flown to the city. Guess it wore off... She thought as she began to walk down the alleyway. Ah need to find some new clothes.

 

That's when she saw it. An overly familiar car. One she'd seen many times before. Aleks' camaro... what is it doing here? Christine thought as she walked towards the vehicle. She pulled open one of the doors and smiled. Laying neatly inside was one of the many shirts Aleks had stolen from her and secretly liked to wear himself. She pulled off her tattered clothes before slipping on the tight work-out shirt.

 

"Wonder what he's got in the trunk..." Christine said as she went around and opened it up. Sure enough more of her clothes were waiting inside. She pulled on a pair of black leggings next before slamming the trunk. If Aleks' car was here that meant he had to be close by.

 

"Aleks?" Christine said as she began down the alleyway looking for him again. That's when she noticed the thousands of shattered bricks laying in the alley.

 

"Oh god... what happened here... Aleks!" she shouted. She took another step before wrinkling her nose. Something smelled awful. She turned to her left noticing the large dumpster and screamed. Laying half in the dumpster half naked and covered in blood was Matt Summers. And he wasn't moving.

Edited January 31, 2014 by Flex Cop

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

"I really hope you're telling the truth. Lead the way, then."

Edited January 31, 2014 by Cupcake Killer

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

"Hey, Betsy," Warren thought suddenly, spinning around in his office chair with a grin to look at the psychic ninja. "If you're suddenly taking such an interest in the way I do my job, I think you should come down with me for the rest of the day and see how it's done yourself." Kitty began to laugh, while Betsy looked at him as if he'd said he wanted her to take a shot of whiskey diluted with AIDS-infected blood.

"It'l be fun! You and me, two of the X-Men, checking out what the next generation of mutants do with their day. Screwing with punk's heads, confiscating alcohol and stashing it in our private stocks...couple stuff! Plus, you can see what real employment looks like."

As the smug grin disappeared from Betsy's face slowly, its energies leaked out and transferred to Warren Worthington's; by now he was positively beaming.

"I'd say I was going to throw you off the roof but you've got wings." Betsy was pouting now, and slowly edging away back to the bedroom whenever Warren spared a glance at the obviously amused Kitty.

"You're going to have so much fun!" Warren said, ignoring her snark. "We're going to patrol classrooms and make sure nothing sketchy's going on in the dorms, interview teachers, look at progress reports..."

"The end days are upon us."

"Betsy, don't be like that. We're going to have fun. Working. Like normal people."

"I thought I had been a good girl but now I see that the Mormons were right and that I've gone to ####."

Warren laughed and stood up, hugging Betsy (who returned the embrace halfheartedly as she desperately searched for an illness that she could pretend had struck her suddenly) and tilting her head up to look at him.

"Ready for the day to start, Deputy Headmistress Braddock?"

"No, I'm not. I've caught... Cumulonimbus." Kitty busted up laughing even more, and Warren tilted his head in mild confusion. Betsy smiled weakly and faked a small cough.

"Isn't that a cloud?"

"Of germs, yes," she insisted.

"I don't think so."

"Fine, it's not a disease. Just my name for the depression that has covered up the sun in my day."

"I thought I was the sun in your day," Warren protested; it was his turn to pout now, and he sat down on the desk, pulling Betsy forward with him as if he were worried she'd escape into a psychic vortex to avoid employment if he let her go.

"But you've been covered by the demon of work," she hammed it up.

"Bask in the shade with me, my love," Warren insisted theatrically. Betsy groaned and tried to pull away again, but Warren caught her by the wrist and held her hand, so she only succeeded in pulling him up as well. Warren Worthington looped his arm around hers and clasped her hand again, and finally Psylocke relented. Together, as a couple, they walked out of the study and into the Institute at large. When both her feet and both of his were outside the dimensions of their quarters, Warren closed the door behind him.

"See? This is what we call the world, Betsy. It's not so bad."

-Tyler

Edited January 31, 2014 by Aegon Targaryen

[Light]

IC: "I see now that I should have listened to our great and powerful leader Mitt Romney and repented from my evil ways." Betsy grabbed on to Warren tightly.

 

"hold me"

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Sssh. Sssh. It's okay, love, I'm right here," Warren assured her, holding her comfortingly. "Here. It's this easy - take one step."

 

They took one step forward. Betsy whimpered.

 

"Two step."

 

They took another step. Her lip quivered.

 

"Three step, four."

 

"Too much, too soon!" Betsy protested.

 

"Alright, we'll slow it down, then. Five step."

 

They took another step. Betsy's breathing slowed slightly and got under control.

 

"Six step. See how easy that was?"

 

-Tyler

[Eevee]

IC: Lilliana

 

The new teacher clutched her briefcase tighter and silently followed them, not sure what to say or where to go. She wondered if they'd show her her classroom or at least where she could sleep. She didn't have anywhere else since she sold her place.

[Hanako Herupa]

IC: (Asa)

 

"Mmmm, haven't had a night this relaxing since a long time." Asa smirked, as she brought the campaign glass to her lips, taking a sip, before sliding the bottle Daken's way so he could pour himself another glass, as he sat opposite of her. That ever mischievous and disarming smile spread across his lips. Daken was that wild mustang, that horse everyone thought they could control but often got thrown off, and ended up breaking their back. Asa didn't tell herself that lie. No one but Daken knew Daken, and that was something in this short frame of time with him that she understood. She sunk a little lower in the warm water, he eyes looking back to Daken as he sat on the other end. She was with him because it was fun. Well that, and her employer was giving her a decent place to live, and the kind of money she didn't have to spend months building up. Oh she could get used to this, to the money, to this lifestyle, and especially to the man, currently sharing one half of the tub. Even though she knew, he could disappear Poof. Just like that if he wanted to, but she would keep having fun, until there was none left to have, because she was Ripple, and like Daken. She did whatever she well pleased (unless the paycheck was good enough).

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Daken smiled wickedly and poured himself another drink, keeping the bottle in his other hand. His legs brushed against Asa's when he crossed over the length of the large, circular tub and linked arms with her. Their champagne flutes clinked together softly, and with a cheeky "Bottoms up!" they both drank as one and then leaned back against the lip of the bathtub and stretched out. He liked Ripple, in his own way. He had chosen her first for his team when he had arrived back at New York City, as the most prominent of his lieutenants; her tongue was sharp, her speech was blunt, and she was hot. Her hair was a deep crimson, and soft against his shoulder as she leaned into him. Her skin felt much the same way, smooth and supple, and she lifted their linked arms up together in an empty toast to the new team. She went to go and fake a drink, but Daken stopped her with a small twitch and lifted the lip of the champagne bottle to her mouth and tilted back to let her drink.

 

"You should feel the bed," suggested Akihiro, eyes closed and grin suggestive.

 

"Oh I'm sure I'll be there soon enough..." She chuckled.

 

Daken flicked his eyebrows and his grin twitched out a little further at the edges as he took a drink from the bottle himself.

 

-Tyler

Edited January 31, 2014 by Aegon Targaryen