X-Men: Darkest Days

[Makuta of Time]

IC:

"Thanks, now for a little shock."

 

I threw another grenade of lightning at them, again in the middle, but this time around them. Marauder got himself clear before I threw my grenades. He got next to me and readied another mag onto his M16. If one of them did not get hit, then he'd shoot them.

 

I turned to 'our friend' who helped us out and asked, "So you control gravity?"

[Constructelf]

IC Foreshadow"Yes," Peter replied, floating towards the electrokinetic. "And you? Electrokinesis and electromagnetism, I presume? And who's your friend?"

[Makuta of Time]

IC:

"He's a SHIELD Agent that found me, but I don't know if I can do electromagnetics" That's when Marauder came over to me and said, "So getting acquainted with our friend. Thanks for helping our #####."

 

"So what's your name friend?" I asked.

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

The sky was starting to grow dark, and in the distance New York still emitted a redish-orange glow and a cloud of smoke. Kristen didn't care. It wasn't her concern now. Having recovered from moping, she headed back down to the cafeteria, and grabbed the only food she knew how to eat with one hand.

 

Cereal.

 

So, she sat slumped in the chair, elbow resting on the table, slowly munching down on a bowl-full of frosted flakes.

 

OOC: Kristen, open to interact.

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC: Mimic

 

Christine had found herself drifting into the cafeteria for some reason. She spotted Kristen and approached her. "Well, now its kind of like ah have a sister." she said as she sat down.

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"Yeah..." Kristen agreed, looking not entirely happy about that statement, "To put it lightly... I haven't gotten used to it."

[Constructelf]

IC Foreshadow"My name is Peter," Peter replied. "You?"

[Makuta of Time]

IC:

"I'm Jack, and I already introduced you to Marauder..."

 

"Let's just leave it at that, okay."

I looked at him a bit with seriousness. "Are there any other X-Men around here?"

[Trad]

IC: Jocelyn

There was silence as Jocelyn slowly, hesitantly headed to the cafeteria.

She was rather unfamiliar to the Institute, having arrived here quite recently, and she didn't dare to interact with anyone at all.

It was a "Always a bigger fish" situation, and right now, she was feeling rather small.

Taking a deep breath, she went inside and looked around for her friend, Nate.

He was sitting somewhere at the back, looking around curiously with a dreamy look on his face.

Edited July 3, 2013 by The Writer

[Constructelf]

IC Peter"X-Men?" Peter asked in confusion. "I haven't seen any... Do they still exist?"

[Makuta of Time]

IC:

"Yeah, but they are mostly other people who came to there for refuge and a place to stay because of their powers." I too am now confused. "So you aren't with the X-Men?"

[Trad]

IC: Jocelyn

Nate looked up as she approached. "Hey," he said in greeting. "So, what's the place like?"

"Large enough to get lost in." muttered Jocelyn dismissively. "Make any new friends?"

"Nah. I'm not that interesting...yet." he replied.

[Constructelf]

IC Peter"No, I'm not. Despite being a vigilante, I don't want to associate myself with them." Peter shuddered as he thought of the negative media attention the X-Men were getting. "Sticking with them too long may make you a target," he thought aloud to himself. "I'm more like Spiderman or Daredevil. I work alone."

[Makuta of Time]

IC:

"Well, sadly that has happened to them. But I don't pay attention to them, because I don't really care what they about Xavier's School for the Gifted." He then looks over his shoulder to see Marauder holding his gun up like he's preparing for an attack.

[Constructelf]

IC: Foreshadow

Peter noticed Marauder's threatening stance as well. "What?" he asked. "You don't like Spiderman?" Peter rotated his body sideways and looked behind him, just to check if there was something else other than him that Marauder was pointing at.

[Makuta of Time]

IC:

"I actually like the web-slinger. He's done some pretty good jobs no matter what Jameson says."

 

Marauder then turns back towards us with his gun lowered. "I though I heard something, but just a false alarm. Yeah, I hear about him up in the Helicarrier. He's pretty good, though he needs to work on the collateral damage in his fights."

 

OOC: Marauder actually looking behind him. Sorry about the confusion.

[Constructelf]

IC: Foreshadow

"Yeah, pity he was killed off 17 years ago with all the rest of them..." Peter looked to the sky, still hearing the sounds of conflict. The US military had arrived on the scene, beating back the HYDRA forces. Still, the battle wasn't won yet. "What now?" Peter asked.

 

IC: Melodia

This wasn't good. With the arrival of backup forces, the HYDRA forces were suddenly being beaten back. "Why did nobody plan for this?!" Reyson thought incredulously. "Of course the military would get involved!" Still in the CanRaDT building, Reyson crouched down into a corner and activated his comm device. "HYDRA Command? Anyone home?"

[Makuta of Time]

IC:

"I say we go and kick some HYDRA ###. With two mutants, it would be greatly appreciated," said Marauder.

 

I agree with him. Besides I have no idea where to go, or wherever the Mansion is.

 

"Well looks like we got something to do. Wanna join?"

[Constructelf]

IC: Peter

"Sounds good to me," Peter replied. "Let's get going." Peter began to rise into the air, the ground beneath him shaking as the gravity field began to waver. "Seems like there would be some over there," Peter shouted down to the two others as he began to float off.

[Makuta of Time]

IC:

I followed from the ground while keeping an eye on the Peter. Marauder went in front of me, gun up and ready to fire at any . He looked around the streets, trying not to stray far from my sight and our new friend. Besides, what better way to relax, than kicking some HYDRA ###.

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC:

 

"Yeah..." Kristen agreed, looking not entirely happy about that statement, "To put it lightly... I haven't gotten used to it."

 

IC: Mimic

 

"Ah understand that, what you've gone through can't be easy." she said as her emerald eyes glanced at Kristen's face for a moment. "If you need any help... with girl stuff. I can take you shopping for some new clothes or something sometime."

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"Thanks Christine," Kristen replied, feeling grateful for her offer, "After the whole 'war in new-york' thing is over, I'd be more than happy to go get some new clothes."

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC: Mimic

 

The Southern belle nodded her head and swept a strand of insistent white hair out of her eyes. "Sure thing Kristen. We need a chance to bond anyway. ah'm thinkin' that this could help. Hopefully the wars over soon."

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"Just bunker down in the institute for a few days. Or months. It'll pass."

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC: Narrator, Hydra General, Military

 

New York was in a state of devastation. There were parts of the city that had gone unscathed during the battle but most of the most heavily populated areas had been ravaged by the war in the streets. The hulking remains of Hydra smoking Hydra tanks and blasted down jets and airships littered the streets. There were bodies pilled everywhere. Bodies of citizens of the city, of mutants, of Hydra soldiers.

 

The military hadn't been ready for the Hydra attack. With SHIELD blind-sighted and the closest military base from New York being quite a distance their aide had come almost too late. But the US had thrown everything they had at Hydra. Ever active duty soldier within the country had been dispatched to the city. They had arrived in droves. Attacking Hydra, whittling away at their defenses.

 

The battle raged on through the night. The war only intensifying along with the damage. However with the prime Hydra airship destroyed and the head of their movement destroyed the Hydra forces had become sloppy. The military had tipped the battle in their favor.

 

A general of the Hydra forces watched the battle from within his airship. He'd seen their floating base destroyed. Now he watched while their army was being torn apart. It was time. The assault was doomed.

 

"I'm ordering a full retreat. All units, all soldiers. Retreat from the city. I repeat retreat." he spoke into his mic. It would only take his technicians a few seconds to broadcast the message on every Hydra channel so it would reach almost every surviving troops within the city.

 

The remaining Hydra aircraft began to fly away from the city. Military fighter planes trailed after them unleashing more missiles and blowing some of them out of the air.

 

"That's right! And don't you come back you Hydra dogs!" one of the air-force pilots shouted.

 

IC: Mimic

 

"Oh lord, I hope it doesn't take months." Christine sighed. "I was thinkin' of leaving and lookin for my brother Chris. Maybe ah'll stick around till this all clears up before ah head out. After I take you shoppin of course."

 

IC: Feral, Songbird

 

"I guess so," John said as he leaned against the car. "You should really ask before you go into my head and start putting up mental blocks next time." he said as he narrowed his vibrant cyan orbs slightly.

 

"But thanks for your help. It feels good to know that I'm not dangerous to anyone here."

 

"You're welcome. I would of done the same thing for the John from my reality, so I did it for you." she smiled. Suddenly a pain seemed to tear through Ashlynn. She bent over in agony as something pulsed within her. She felt... hungry.

 

The world slowed around Ash. It was as if her vision had been tinted red as well. Her emerald eyes suddenly locked onto John's jugular vein. She watched as it pulsed in slow motion.

 

Click. Two fangs clicked into place inside Ash' mouth. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

 

"I have to go." she said.

 

"Huh? Are you alright?"

 

"Don't follow me!" Ash said as she began to run off. She sprinted away from John before vanishing into the trees. She had to find something to eat. She wouldn't let herself feed off anyone inside the mansion. She wouldn't let herself become a monster.

 

IC: Scorcher (New York)

 

"Hey, yo." a voice said from behind Nathaniel. A finger tapped Nathaniel on the shoulder. The British mutant would turn around to see Scorcher standing in front of him. Kane was pretty sure he'd seen this guy fighting alongside the Brotherhood in the past.

 

"You're with the Brotherhood aren't you? Or at least you were."

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"You once asked me where your happy ending was."

Alex said, after several minutes of silence. His voice was quiet, reserved, and more than a little weary. He didn't say who he was addressing, but for whom he was it would be clear. The technopath paused in his stride, a few feet from the stairwell where the confrontation had occurred between those left at the school, and John's white knights. Dallas and Ashley's shouts of glee and joy were clearly audible, even muffled by several walls, intermingled with the sounds of the school. A lot had happened. There had been attacks and kidnappings, murders and fights, and more deaths than Alex cared to count, but still the school stood.

Xavier's Institute was still here, and many of those inside never knew the cost of that fact. Alex had given up his freedom to keep it from the Enforcers. Terry had given his life, and so many more their sense of innocence, to keep it safe from Weapon X. Beast gave his life in the line of his job, and Ashlynn gave hers trying to keep the assembled X-Men safe. Members had come and gone, but each one had paid their share so that the students that called it home might continue to do so.

And it had worked. He could hear them all, chattering to each other in the halls, or getting ready for class. He heard more than a few video games in progress, and what sounded like a few instruments coming from the eastern wing. Footsteps, doors opening and closing. It was the sound of a building full of life and hope, despite all that had happened, and would happen in the future.

"I don't know where it is. People like you and I, because we're far more similar than either of us want to admit, never seem to get a happy ending. And I finally know why. It's because no matter how jaded and cynical we become, we can't stop helping. We can't stop trying to fix other people, or keep them safe. We look at it in different ways, but the bottom line is that neither of us can stop."

"And we take a lot of **** for it. We're beaten on, we're beaten up, we're imprisoned, and sometimes, we lose everything we ever cared about. And sometimes it still isn't enough of a price to pay to fix what's broken. Sometimes we can;t succeed, or maybe we were doomed to fail from the start. Maybe it's futile to try."

The technopath paused, turning to look at him. And for the first time in a long time, the mask slipped from his face. Alexander Smith was old beyond his years, because those were not the eyes of a sixteen year old boy. They were eyes that had seen too much, lost too much. He was tired, and he was beaten. But he kept dragging himself forward, because they needed him to. If they didn't, he would have simply stopped a long time ago. He would have stopped moving forward. He would have given up.

Instead he got out of bed every day to a world that had nothing left for him, to perform the duties of someone far older without complaint, to shoulder the responsibility that had been laid upon him.

"But I think that one day, it'll come around again. Not tomorrow, not the next day, maybe not even in the next year. Maybe it won't happen for a long time. But what goes around does come around. Those who sow evil will one day reap the reward, and those who choose to spread good will eventually find that it comes back to them. Maybe not in a big way. It could be anything from a little luck when they need it most, to a shoulder to lean on when they can't go on alone."

"But one day, it'll come around. We'll both get the ends we deserve, whatever it is. And maybe if we're really lucky, we can go out knowing we did a little good in the world's darkest days."

********************************************************

They say that it's always darkest before the dawn.

The irony of that thought occurred to him as he sat in the dim room he had once called his study. Not that he had done very much with it in recent days. It had mostly served as an office, a place to contemplate his organization's next move, and a place to retreat to when things were too chaotic. And now, it served as just that. His place of zen during the end of days.

It had been only a matter of time. MACE had been looking for the Brotherhood ever since their failed assault on Genosha, when they arrived to find only a paltry resistance, and none of the Brotherhood's main force. They knew they had escaped, and they were laying low somewhere. They just didn't know where. Two days ago, they had finally received the tip they were looking for; a small private aircraft had crossed into the country from the eastern seaboard, setting down somewhere in New York state. After that, it was only a matter of finding the places that could theoretically harbor them, and which were the most likely. It had taken a matter of hours to find Abraham's mansion.

He had known exactly one hour after they received they had their breakthrough. There were people in the system that understood what went down on Genosha; they understood the lack of attacks, and the significance of Pietro's corpse. His own people had performed a coup, and they were keeping quiet. These people wanted to leave the remnants alone, let them have their peace, but the men and women of MACE were going to have none of it. They were going to shoot to kill.

Abraham Daniels regarded his chessboard in silence, contemplating the game before him. He was playing the white side, his foe the black, and it was clear who was winning. The black had all of their pieces in attendance and at full strength, while the white was down to the King. So few moves left to make, and all of them were limited. Brief respites until his foe accomplished their victory.

The King stood alone, without his allies, without those he trusted. Abraham had sent them all away the moment he confirmed MACE's intentions. Every last one of them. Some left without complaint, happy to avoid the oncoming assault. Others had hesitated; they had finally found a home. a stable place to remain. Did they truly want to give that up?

But one by one, they had all departed. Some stayed together, seeking safety in numbers. All were equipped with a week's supplies, and a disposable cell phone; if it was safe to return, or another location was found, he would call them. But what they didn't realize was that the call would never come. Abraham had devised his strategy, the last one that he would ever need.

The Brotherhood had always been defined by their leader. Intelligence agencies described the Brotherhood in terms of the Quicksilver era, or the Magneto era, and now, it was down to it's last era; the last evolution. Because without the head, the serpent cannot function. If one were to remove Magneto, as had occurred, another stepped up. When one removed Quicksilver, another stepped up. But what if there was no one left to step up? No one left to take on the mantle of leader, no one left to drive their hatred and give it form?

The group would simply cease to be.

When there is but the King left, one has two choices. To either continue the game, in the hopes of forcing a tie, or to tip the King; to surrender. To refuse to play the game. People have argued since the dawn of war whether 'tis nobler to fight to the last, and force the opponent to fight for every step of their advance, or to give in. One is without a doubt the more prideful approach. A refusal to surrender indicates a dedication to one's cause, a determination to make them work for every bit of their victory. But the other is the path of least bloodshed; by accepting defeat when one has lost, many lives can and will be saved. Kings have taken so many different approaches over the years. Mass suicide, to deny the enemy the satisfaction. Last stands to inflict as much damage as possible before they fall, and final battle to accomplish the same. Others have surrendered so as to spare what is left of their army, and their country.

But there has never been a conclusive decision, nor has there every been a way without pain. Without loss of life.

Abraham had sent his allies away to spare them the assault, but that was not all. By sending them away, he took responsibility for their crimes, for their acts of hatred. The serpent cannot survive without the head. He was the lone King, the sole piece on the board, standing before an onslaught of foes. This was not a fight he would win, this was not a fight in which he could force a mutual defeat. Loss was the only option.

So now he came to the choice that had haunted so many for centuries; is it nobler to fight to the last, or to accept one's defeat?

When he fell, the Brotherhood would fall with him. They had no real leader left, no one with enough anger in their heart to continue the fight. This was the last battle. With its end, so came the end of the Brotherhood's war against humanity. And a chance for peace. There would not be an organized group of mutant terrorists, there would be no convenient target for humanity's racism, its bigotry. They would be forced to look long and hard before they took action again, realize that the people they now persecuted were not villains, not demons, they were people. They had spent so long demonizing the mutants using the Brotherhood as their excuse. They feared what lurked in the dark, using the Brotherhood to give a name to their fear and loathing. With this, he would illuminate that darkness, and force them to see that which they feared face to face.

This was his last strategy. His zero approval gambit.

He looked from the board to the revolver on his desk. Modeled after the Civil War LeMat revolver, a six chambered gun with a second barrel just below the first to be loaded with buckshot. The Confederates had favored it so.

The sound of splintering wood alerted him to the MACE operatives' arrival; they had broken down the door. Idly, Abraham smoothed the front of his suit, and picked the revolver up off of its stand. The hammer was primed with a click, and he regarded it calmly.

Abraham had always lived his life with dignity, and with honor, even if it was not the same code that society followed. He fought for his beliefs, and he did not regret that. But he did regret the lives lost when he lost his way. His penance had arrived.

But was it nobler to go down fighting, or refuse to play the game?

The quiet reverie was broken by the sound of gunshots, and the disturbance of Abraham's time of zen. The Brotherhood's time was up, and it was time for judgement. The last judgement that would ever be inflicted.

For without the head, the serpent cannot continue.

***********************************************************

The battle was winding down, but it was not yet won.

Hydra soldiers did not cease their attack, even when their main base of operations fell from the sky. They had taken down the Helicarrier, they were pushing back the remaining SHIELD forces. Where was their disadvantage? The battle could still be won, and failing that, more damage could still be inflicted. They marched on, shooting at anything that wasn't wearing their uniforms, civilian or soldier, it didn't matter. But what they didn't see coming was the last relic of the old age of heroes.

In a blur of red, white and blue, a metal disc slammed into the lead soldier's chest accompanied by a loud crack. It bounced back even as he fell, returning to the hand of the one who threw it. Grim-faced, James pulled the trigger of his sidearm, sending one of their number to the ground in a spray of blood. Another fell when he threw he shield again, only for it to rebound, and be plucked out of the air by the sprinting super soldier. His drove his fist into the side of the soldier before him's head, their neck snapping to the side with a sickening crack. There were only two left now, out of an original squad of five.

He didn't know where the others had gone. They had been separated when the airstrike began, and driven apart by the waves of enemy forces. Molotov was missing, Alyss hadn't been seen since her offer to take them to the ship, and he thought Alyssa was somewhere behind him, but with her powers, one could never be sure. The super soldier twisted as he ran to avoid a spray of bullets from the soldiers, the few that were not dodged ricocheting off of his shield. He hurled his shield towards the rearmost soldier, ignoring the cry of pain as it connected, and waited for it to bounce back...

But it didn't. The shield had spiraled off course after impacting, landing somewhere outside his field of vision. He pivoted on one foot to face his remaining foe, spotting the soldier standing a few yards away. His rifle was raised, the barrel angled to fire directly at the Patriot before him. Too far to punch, too close to dodge. No shield to protect himself. Options flew through James' mind, each one more desperate than the last, but none were feasible. Letting out a long breath, he raised his own weapon, taking aim at the enemy before him.

In the span of a second, two shots rang through the air. A moment later, one body hit the ground.

The soldier had fallen, the bullet impacting between his eyes. His rifle lay on the ground beside him, having fallen out of his hand when his grip relaxed. James still stood, hunched over, hand pressed to the right side of his chest, struggling to keep his breaths regular, seeking to block out the pain. Black spots danced across his vision, the pain blocking out all other thoughts in his mind. He slid to the ground, resting his back against a piece of rubble nearby, blinking as his breaths grew shallow, irregular. He looked down at his hand, but it took him a moment to register the rapidly spreading stain of red.

The shot had hit him in the right side of his chest. He couldn't tell what it had hit, but judging by the amount of blood, it had most likely struck a blood vessel. The shallow breathing indicated that it may have nicked a lung. He looked up, resting the back of his head against the rubble, closing his eyes for a moment.

No one was around. Even with his hearing, he couldn't hear anything. No gunshots, no screams. No voices, no footsteps. Nothing. The last symbol to fall lay alone, surrounded by the bodies of his fallen foes, even as his own blood leaked through his fingers. With a shaking hand, he reached up and flipped the switch on his earpiece. Instantly, he could hear voices talking over the channel. Military men reporting the slow advance through the city, SHIELD agents working to regroup. But there was one prevailing message; New York had not fallen. Hydra had not succeeded, the fight had not been in vain.

But the cost had been high. James closed his eyes again, remembering the sight he had borne witness to a few blocks back. Noel Rogers and Howard Stark, two of his comrades, his friends, lay motionless in a remote alley. Through some twist of fate, they had fallen in the same place. Perhaps it was best that way. No one should have to go alone.

A single voice pierced through the chatter; it was Brando. Holed up in a pawn shop with Siegfried and Erin, he was rallying them all for one more skirmish. He heard him ask about Noel and Howard, asking if anyone had seen them. He didn't know, James realized in a moment of delayed realization. He didn't know about their fate, he didn't know that blocks away, James himself was injured. James reached for his Avengers' priority card, fumbling inside his jacket. He needed to tell him, he needed to get their attention, he needed to get someone's attention...

There was a quiet clink as the card fell out of his coat, fragments impacting against the pavement. The shot had blown clean through it, shattering it into smaller pieces. It was useless, in every sense of the word.

No headset, no priority card, and no backup in sight. Walking was out of the question he realized, as he tried and failed to stand. His muscles no longer obeyed him, no longer heeded his desires. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. He had finally found his limit, the end of his strength. He slumped against the stone behind him, his strength deserting him as he came to the final conclusion; he wasn't going to walk away from this one.

This was the end of the line. No backup, no way to communicate, and he lacked the strength to move. When one couldn't run, they walked. And when they couldn't walk, they found someone to carry them. But what's left when even that is impossible?

"Anyone out there?" He said weakly, coughing slightly. After a few moments of silence, he sighed. "I guess not."

The super soldier closed his eyes, muscles quivering, breaths growing weaker with each passing minute. He was done. But that was okay. Because it hadn't been in vain. New York was safe. Brando was safe, Alyssa was safe, Siegfried was safe. They'd made it. In the last day of his life, in the last fight, he'd finally managed to do something right. The shield was gone, somewhere in the street behind him, but that was to be expected. It had a way of going where it was needed, making itself known when the time was right.

SHIELD would probably find it. They'd keep it safe, and make sure that it got where it needed to be. And one day, when it was needed again, it would find its way into the proper hands. He'd had his turn, he'd made his mark. It was time for someone else to up the call.

But the Rogers line ended today, and with it, came the end of an era. Noel was dead, James was dying. The Helicarrier had fallen, the Stark line was coming to an end... The old symbols had been torn from their pedestals. But the Avengers would live on. Brando, Erin, and Siegfried were competent, maybe even more. They'd recruit, build a new team. That was their job. It was where their name came from. No matter what, no matter how many losses they suffered, they would endure and avenge those who died along the way.

But at the same time, he didn't want to be alone. He could feel the darkness closing in. His strength had abandoned him, his body was failing him, and he faced the end alone. No allies, no friends. At that moment, he would have wished even for an enemy, if only to have some semblance of human contact before the end. It didn't matter if he had any last words to say, no one would know what they were, for no one was there to hear. Two of his friends had made the trip before him, but they had had each other. There was someone there when they passed, they had someone they loved to make the trip with them.

James would do it alone. In the end, despite his team, he fought alone, he was defeated alone, and he would die alone. No way to send a goodbye to his friends. His family would get the news from a SHIELD consolation agent. Years ago, Nick Fury had asked him if he wanted to make a difference. If he wanted to do something with his life beyond a menial existence, if he wanted to put his abilities to a use that would have made his grandfather proud. He didn't know if he'd succeeded or not, but in the end, that was for history to decide.

He'd failed to stop that bloody reptile. He'd failed to keep the president safe, he'd failed to keep the members of his team safe. But he'd finally succeeded in keeping something safe. New York would survive, the Avengers would survive. Maybe that was all he could hope for; to die a good death.

He was getting weaker by the moment. He couldn't open his eyes anymore, no matter how hard he tried, and he could feel his heart slowing down. He didn't want to go alone. Send a friend, a civilian, an enemy, someone so that he wouldn't have to go alone. Slowly dying on a New York street, and there was no one around. How ironic was that? The city that never sleeps, the city of stubborn citizens, and the one time he wanted someone to be around...

He could feel his eyes watering behind closed lids. That wouldn't do, what kind of image would it set, found dead in a side street with tears in his eyes? No, he needed to be better than that. A drop of water landed on his face, but it wasn't his own. His senses were fading, but he could still feel, and there was one unmistakable sensation. Almost at the end of his time, he could feel a hand close around his. They were relatively small, almost certainly belonging to a girl. He didn't know who, and he was long past the point where he had the strength to open his eyes and find out. But in the end, it didn't matter. At the end of his time, someone had been there.

He faintly heard her say something, in a voice indistinct but at the same time familiar. He could hear boots impacting on the pavement, he could feel himself picked up, and put on a stretcher. But through the entire time, the person didn't let go. He felt the stretcher lifted off of the ground, as all faded to black.

The supersoldier's body went still, his breaths almost imperceptible. But even now, he hadn't let go yet. Because very faintly, one of the medic's instruments beeped quietly, with a slow, but regular pattern.

His heart hadn't stopped yet.

*********************************************

"Well, it looks like my job is done here." A quit voice commented from the alley he rested inside. An old man, late fifties to early sixties, judging by his appearance, pushed his way to his feet. A cat glanced up at him, cocking his head.

"Dr. McCoy died a few days ago. If Alaric's here, then I'd be willing to bet that they're going to need their staff back, Sebastian. So let's go do our job, shall we?"

OOC:This, my friends, is the end.

James and Abraham's fates are ambiguous, and I intend for them to stay that way. Any attempts at deciding their fate for them will be summarily ignored, though if any Brotherhood characters find that they must, Abraham can be assumed to be dead. James' shield, despite what you might think, is not up for grabs. Only one person has permission to pick it up, and they already know. So if you weren't explicitly told, it isn't you.With the unpleasantness out of the way, it's time for a few goodbyes. This game has been a ball, and I've loved being a part of it. It's let me create some characters that I'm very fond of, and have some interactions that I'll miss. It's helped me make a few new buddies, too. Kaithas, we went into this game at each other's throats, and we came out friends. Tyler, Snelly, thank you for being great fellow staff members. Advent, even if we didn't always see eye to eye (Especially in the early days. ), it's been fun playing with you. Onarax, Hubert, Grochi, thank you for the joy that was Delta Squad. Shame we never got to see ENF-X realized, but alas, some things are too awesome to see the light of day.

To all my fellow Avengers, both old and those newly arrived, it's been an honor avenging with you. To the Pantheon, I am truly sorry for more or less stealing away some of your best characters.

Flex, thank you for creating this game in the first place. There's a lot that's been said, and I see no reason to bring it up here. I intend to leave this game on a relatively cheerful note.

I apologize to any of you that may feel pained by the apparent deaths of some of my characters, but I felt this was the end that each of them was moving towards at this point in time. I truly wanted to create a final post for Rebekah, and I still might if I can come up with the correct idea, but I couldn't find a way to wrap her up in a single post. There was too much to be said, too many points on the character arc left untouched. So she will remain as she is.

It's been a ball folks, and God willing, I'll see you all again in XMDD 2: The Search for More Players.

Allons-y!

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"I'd go help you look for him," Kristen started, "But I still have to sort things out for myself... Thanks for your offer though."

[Light]

IC: DelphiAlyssa walked back into the alley, tears running down her face.Seeing the impact.Again.And again.And again.Her brain was like a stuck record.No future sight, not when she focused on the past.Again. Crystal clear detail.An alley, like any other.Again. He hit the ground.The shield was still there. Whether left alone through respect or fear, it didn't matter.They were opposite sides of the same coin, weren't they?Again. The shield bounced toward her-And she caught it. Only to drop it in shock.Still there. The symbol, lying in the street.Again. Life force running out.She knelt down, picking up the shield and sliding it on her right arm.She turned, to face the new world.OOC: Permission granted.

Edited July 14, 2013 by The Fourteenth Doctor

[Zulu Yankee Kilo Echo]

OOC: So I guess I should make one last post. I know I said I wouldn't, but I just couldn't leave without some form of closure.

 

IC:

 

A gentle hand brushed Alex's shoulder. Julia was there, the Julia that he had accidentally hurt so long ago, the Julia that had fallen in crazy, stupid, undeniable, improbable love with him. A smile crossed her face, and for the first time in a long time, it stayed there. It was a genuine smile, but it wasn't one of happiness, or even of affection--not totally, at least. No, Julia decided, it was a smile of gratitude. Gratitude for the moments that she had shared with Alex, regardless of whether or not he remembered them after his various trips through heck and back. She didn't know how he felt about her now, but she knew that she would always love him in a way, but never again in the young, innocent way she had loved him those days that had followed that fateful training sim.

"Hey," she greeted. The single syllable carried a hint of regret. Her arms made their way to his shoulders and folded themselves behind his neck. He uttered a hello in return. Her smile faltered for a moment, and finally, she spoke.

"I'm going away," she announced, the words abruptly and awkwardly tumbling out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and continued, letting go and taking a step back, taking hold of his hands.

"It's been a great twelve years here at Xavier's for me. I joined the X-men, made some great friends...and I met you. Sure, in recent years, we've had our lows, and I'll admit, things have pretty much gone to **** in the last few months in more ways than one. But y'know what..."

She looked down at her feet, sighed, then looked back up at him.

"There have been plenty of good moments, too. Enough memories to last a lifetime and longer."

She paused.

"My seventeenth is coming around soon, and I've been saving money; doing what I can around the city. As of today, I have enough to get a plane ticket out of here. I think I'll go to Japan--I've always wanted to visit there. I don't know when I'll be back, if ever. I just...I just need some time to rest. A lot has happened recently, and I just need to get away."

She managed to smile, but this time, it was a pained smile. Her eyes closed, she leaned in, their lips touched for one last time. The kiss lasted moments, but for Julia, it lasted forever. She pressed something cold and metallic into Alex's hand.

"They need you here. You have my number. We'll stay in touch."

She let go of one hand and picked up the suitcase she had set on the floor.

"You've changed, but no matter how many parallel dimensions you save, Alexander Smith, I love you. That much will never change."

She stepped back slowly, one hand still in his. She let it fall as she turned and stepped down the stairs, leaving him with the parting gift she had given him: a small brass locket; nothing too fancy. Inside was a picture of the two of them embracing just outside the X-Manor. The picture had been taken months ago for the school yearbook--both of them hardly remembered that moment, but it was the best picture Julia could find. On the other side of the locket was an inscription:

Worlds apart,

Yet closer than ever.

He didn't try to stop her, instead staring blankly at the inscription as she walked down the stairs and out the door. His logical brain had taken over, as it always did, and it had gone blank. When he regained his senses, she was already gone. He wrapped his hand around the locket. The words crossed his mind, and he pulled out his phone.

I love you too, he tapped into the text box under Julia's name. He hesitated, his thumb hovering numbly over the send button.

 

Sebastian Shaw lie awake in his bed on the Shaw Industries private jet. It was going to be an overnight flight, and he could use some rest, yet he couldn't sleep. New York was dead to him, the Hellfire Manor with it. The other members of the Inner Circle had scattered during the invasion, and he didn't know or quite honestly care what had happened to them. In a suitcase next to him were the last vials of Novocain's virus, sealed away in an airtight container should the need to use them arise once more. He sat up and looked out the window; they were over water, probably the Atlantic Ocean if he remembered correctly. He picked up the small black box and pressed a button to summon one of the flight attendants.

"May I help you, sir?"

The attendant arrived in less than a minute.

"Hold this," Shaw ordered, handing the box to the attendant and heading across the cabin to an emergency exit. He tugged on the handle once, twice.

"Sir, I don't think--"

The door came loose, interrupting the attendant with a gust of cold air.

"Give it here," Shaw demanded over the sound of the cabin's air pressure falling. The terrified man hobbled over and passed the case to his master's beckoning hands. The Black King immediately heaved the thing out into the open air and pulled the door shut behind him just as little plastic oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. Shaw didn't bother putting one on, but the attendant scrambled weakly to pull the yellow cup over his face.

"This is your pilot speaking," came a voice on the radio. "It seems we've experienced a drop in cabin pressure--"

"Everything's fine," Shaw interrupted over a handheld communicator of his own. "we're alright. Land at the first airport you can , but otherwise continue as I told you."

He looked down at the attendant, who was currently slumped over on the floor, gulping in lungfuls of air, and finally decided to grab a mask of his own. The Hellfire Club would vanish for a time, but it would return, and when it did, the games would begin once more. And this time, Sebastian Shaw would not lose.

 

The tombstone was beautiful. It had been carved from smooth granite, and adorning its head was the shape of a bird with its wings stretched wide and its hooked beak pointed nobly westward. A metal plaque had been affixed to it that read:

Ashlynn Summers, 1987-2013

An angel in both life and death

The funeral had been short, and few had shown up to honor her passing. Zackary Summers gripped the visor he had used during the Las Vegas battle--on the day she died--firmly. Never again, he vowed. Never again. He kneeled down and placed the visor on the soft patch of earth by her tombstone and stood, burying his sorrow as he always had beneath a layer of false confidence, false hope that things would turn out alright, even though they never did. Someone chuckled dryly behind him.

"Looks like the new Phoenix has a soft spot," Jordan teased.

Without turning, Zack knew Jordan was wearing that cocky smile that he always wore. He could feel less confidence behind Jordan's voice than usual, however.

"We all miss her," he continued. "I know you think you're the only one that cares, but you're not."

"I'm a danger to everyone," Zack declared. "Whatever was left of the Phoenix in her has gone to me and Tara. I can feel it, Jordan. It's angry. It wants revenge."

"You're not going to give it what it wants, are you?"

"**** no. I'm gone. Headed north, where that crazy ****-er Warren won't find me. If he's even still around."

He picked up his suitcase and turned.

"But now that I've told you that, I can't trust you to keep a secret."

He nodded at the silver Acura MDX parked across the street.

"Get in the car."

Jordan clapped his hands.

"Now that's what I wanted to hear," he proclaimed.

Jordan hopped in the car through the open window while Zack threw his suitcase in the trunk and got in himself. The radio clicked to life the instant the engine started, and "Life in Technicolor II" soon filled the speakers. They had a long road ahead and a lot of sorrow to leave behind.

 

OOC: So, that's it. I tried not to be too cheesy, but it couldn't be avoided entirely.

It's been fun, and I've created some of the deepest characters I've ever written for this RPG (which may or may not be saying much). I've made friends, met new players, and all in all had a great time. As one of the game's original GMs, I can testify this RPG's resilience, but I think it's time for me to conclude these chapters in my characters' stories. It's been good fun, and I'll [hopefully] see all or most of you next time!

Edited July 15, 2013 by Zyke the Space Biker

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC: Feral

 

John watched as Julia flew out of the door with a suitcase and made her way towards the gate. "Take care Jules!" he shouted. Not even sure she had heard him. It didn't really matter. John knew he would see Julia again. She was the only blood relative he had. Half of the same genes that made up who John was were also inside her. John hoped the best for Julia. In his eyes she was his sister and he had nothing but love for her. As he watched her go he regretted not spending more time with her. He hadn't been there much for her as a brother. Maybe that had something to due with the fact that his own older brother, Daken had abused him and tried to kill him.

 

John had lost sight of what family was. He was moving now. Not really aware of where he was headed. He found himself standing behind the school. Where the graveyard resided. The first thing you noticed were the amount of graves. There were a lot. A grave for every single X-Man and X-Woman who had ever fought to protect the school.

 

John walked past the headstone for his father. He knew his father's body wasn't beneath the ground. Like many of the X-Men it had been vaporized by the Phoenix. There had been nothing left except for some melted down Adamantium. But it wasn't his father's grave that hit home. He'd hardly known his father. It was two fresh headstones that made John stop in his tracks. Ashlynn Summers and Hank McCoy. Each grave were beautiful in their own right. Ashlynn's an elegant bird fixed to the top. The inscription was perfect. John couldn't help but fall to his knees as he stared at the two graves for the first time. Tears blurred his eyes as he stared at Beast' grave.

 

There was a massive metal statue of Beast. Poised as if ready to strike, yet smiling at the same time with a quizzical and knowing look on his face. One John had seen too many times. This was the man who raised John. The man who shaped him into what he was today. The man who took Xavier's burden onto his shoulders and continued it despite what happened. Now this man was gone. Gone before John could even say goodbye. He'd failed at protecting Hank. Hank McCoy. Leader. Teacher. Fighter. Father. The words inscribed onto Hank's headstone were simple. But they were true. Hank had been all of those things but so much more.

 

John slowly got to his feet as he felt wetness splash onto his shoulders. It wasn't more tears but rain. John looked up towards the heavens and watched as the grey drops descended upon the earth. John was almost instantly drenched as he stared upwards. He wondered if Hank and Ash were up there somewhere. If they really lived on after death. It didn't matter. He knew they lived on in the hearts of those who had loved and cared for them. The Ash who had killed Jeremy Wagner hadn't been her. It had been the Phoenix. A force that had decided to continue to destroy the lives of the Summers family. He would remember her as who she was before.

 

The caring strong girl who wanted to heal everyone. To keep everyone safe. Who wanted to teach. The girl who had helped put John on the right path. Now that she was gone he would make sure to continue on that path. He'd lost his way for a while. After she had died. But her work to make sure he didn't become a monster were in vain if he didn't try his best to protect and help others.

 

Hank may be dead. But his dream would live on. The dream that Xavier started. The X-Men themselves weren't all immortal. But what they stood for was. No matter what happened it would never be stamped out. John would spend the rest of his life continuing that dream, fighting for peace. Continuing what the fallen had started.

 

IC: Mimic

 

"Don't mention it sugar. I can understand the sortin' thing. We all go through that. Though I know your case is a bit different them most peoples."

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

Kristen nodded, picking up the bowl and spoon she'd eaten with, and walked them over to where dirty dishes were placed, and headed back to Christine.

 

"It's been nice talking to you Christine... But I've had a bit of a rough time, and I just want to be by myself for a bit," She said, "Like I said... I have a lot to deal with, and I just need some time to myself to get used to everything."

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC: Mimic

 

"Alright, don't worry about it. You just do exactly what you need. If you ever need to talk ah'm open. Ah'll find you when its time to go shopping." she smiled.

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

Kristen nodded, giving Christine a sort of half-smile before heading back to her room. It was still situated among the boy's rooms, and she made a mental note to get it changed later. If there wasn't any vacancies for rooms, maybe she could bunk with Christine for a bit. They were family after all. Last thing she wanted was to stay in the boy's section anymore. She didn't want any of the boys to come into her room... Be it on accident, or on purpose.

 

Locking said door behind her, Kristen laid on the bed, arm outstretched, looking up at the ceiling. It would be one thing to just deal with life problems, but also the fact she changed bodies, and lost an arm? At least she knew that the last one could just be solved by finding another technopath. There seemed to be a bunch of them just lying around, getting one to help her wouldn't be that hard.

 

At least that would be an easy challenge to deal with.

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC: Songbird

 

Rain fell through the dark branches above Ash' head as she ran trough the woods. She didn't mind the rain. It felt cool against her pale skin as she moved through the darkness. She felt alive out here in the woods. Alive like she'd never before. More alive then when she'd had wings and been able to fly. The rain drenched her clothes, sticking them to her body as she ran.

 

Predatory instincts had taken over as she'd entered the woods. She could feel the blood of a living creature pumping through its veins as she pursued it. With her new speed she was now gaining on the deer. She jumped her crimson hair whirling behind her as she cut through the air like a knife. She landed on the deer, her fangs clicking into place as she buried them into the creatures neck. Warm blood gushed into Ash' mouth for a first time. She drank it down with a new hunger. She wouldn't let this side of her loose control. She would continue to feed off animals, not humans. Not the people she cared about.

 

She'd come a long way for this new paradise. Her world had been devastated by the Phalanx. The machine aliens had nearly wiped her planet clean of all life. But her and her team of X-Men had banded together and come to this world for a single hope. Alex. They'd stolen him from this world and taken him back to their own. Somehow it had worked. The Phalanx fell to the X-Men and their technopathic savior. But when it was all over there was nothing left for them in their dimension, nothing but mounds of bodies to bury.

 

So along with the other Ultimate X-Men she'd come back to this world to make it her new home. But then her life had been stolen by that evil mutant. She'd almost died alone in that alleyway until Jace came for her. He saved her, gave her another chance. Ash wasn't about to waste it. Not on anything. This was her home now and she would protect it and the people she cared for with her life.

 

Even if she wasn't a mutant anymore, even if she was a vampire, she'd still been a mutant first. She was an Ultimate X-Man before she was anything else. The Ash of this world had died fighting for Xavier's dream. She hadn't gotten a second chance, the Phoenix had stolen that from her. Whatever void the old Ash left behind, she was going to try to fill it the best she could. This school needed a new nurse after all.

 

IC: Scorcher

 

Kane sat on one of the many buildings that dotted the New York landscape. He watched from his perch as the city burned Hydra's attack. He wished he could help but the fires out, but his power only allowed him to control his own flames not others. As he looked up at the sky a cool rain began to descend on the city. Usually Kane hated the rain, it made it much harder to use his powers but right now he didn't care.

 

Kane was finally free. Free to do what he wanted, when he wanted. He'd been raised a Weapon. Twisted into an assassin for the sick Weapon-X for so long. But he'd watched as the Weapon-X facility had burned along with Colonel Johnson. That man got what he deserved. Kane had joined the Brotherhood after that just to be with his brother Caden.

 

The Brotherhood wasn't really Kane's style but they had accepted him and he'd fought for them. Quicksilver had been a maniac, but still it had given him purpose. It hadn't lasted long however. Soon Quicksilver had died and his regime along with it. But so had Kane's brother, Caden. He hadn't got to spend much time with his brother before he had died. He'd given his life to defend Genosha from the Enforcers. Kane missed him more then anything.

 

Kane had tried to reconnect with the other survivors of Genosha but he didn't belong with them. Perhaps he didn't belong anywhere. Maybe he didn't need a group to identify himself. He was a pyrokinetic mutant. That's what he was at heart. He was a good man. He hadn't allowed Weapon-X to take that from him, no matter what.

 

IC: Nicole

 

"Home, sweet home." Nicole said as she walked in through the rain and into the institute. Her long blonde hair was matted to her back due to the rain and her mascara was running. Nicole walked forward before sitting down on one of the stairs of the school. She'd finally made it back to the institute, it was the only home she had left.

 

Nicole had first met the X-Men when they'd saved her from being the Brotherhood's hostage. She'd met Dallas then and had fallen for him. Later she'd discovered her mutant powers and seduced him in a bookstore. It wasn't something she was proud of, but it had changed her life. Knowing she was a mutant.

 

Her father had fought for human and mutant equality. She'd always taken him for granted. He'd been a wonderful father to her. Though he spoiled her. Nicole had grown up with everything she could of ever wanted since she'd been the daughter of a wealthy politician. Once her father became President it had only become worse. But then her world had been shattered. Her father had been killed by the Brotherhood. Beheaded on live television. Her father had died for his dream, he'd died so that Nicole could live in a world without prejudice.

 

She'd learned that her mother had been Emma Frost, one of the X-Men. She'd never known her, but from what she knew she was very similar to her. Nicole would stay here and help the X-Men with their cause. She would continue her father's work even after he was gone.

 

Nicole got up and walked up the stairs before pushing open her room and stepping inside. She'd spent the last few months trapped within a heIIish realm with a half vampire named Robin. Nicole liked Robin. She liked him a lot. He cared for her and he protected her. He wasn't a mutant but he was close enough. Dallas had found happiness with Ashley and perhaps Nicole had found her own in Robin.

 

She sat down on her bed and opened up her purse before pulling out a videotape. It was a tape that Dallas had given her. A recording of her father's speech. She'd never gotten to hear his final great speech.

 

"Friends, colleagues," he began, clearing his throat. "My fellow Americans."

 

Tears of joy and sadness brimmed Nicole's big blues as she listened to her father's speech. Daddy, I miss you.

 

OOC: Wrap ups for Nicole, Ash and Kane, more coming soon.

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Yuri Aleksandrov)

 

Cigarette clamped between his teeth, Yuri watched the news reports roll across the screens before him, casting an eerie half light around the darkened room. New York crippled. Thousands dead, thousands more missing. HYDRA had hit hard and fast. Many MACE operatives had been in the city, keeping an eye on the X-Men. It hadn't helped....and now, here he was. But for the kindness of fate, he would have been in that city.

 

There would be fallout from this. So much of it. People would look for someone to blame. They always did. He sighed. Most of his life had been devoted to war. He had fought so many, killed so many.....and as the names of dead and lost stretched across the screen, as he picked out the names of operatives, families, and others he had known...Yuri took a long drag from his cigarette to stifle the sob rising within him.

 

It was so easy to forget, in these times, that a band of fanatics with guns could be just as dangerous as a group of mutants. Yuri opened his mouth. "Thompson, progress on the Brotherhood ra-" He cut himself off. Thompson had been in New York. Many of his people were dead. He'd have to get used to that. He hadn't faced a day so disastrous in all of his years. He'd always gotten his men through. For a moment, he thought about joining them. It would be so easy, so very easy to just grab his sidearm and....no. No. He still had a job to do.

 

MACE still had a job to do. As bad as this attack had been, all it would take was one mutant capable of controlling water, calling down fire or simply able to move air to make this situation infinitely worse. The X-Men still existed, still walked the street...each one of them capable of killing many times their numbers if they so wished.

 

Snuffing out his cigarette, Yuri straightened his officer's cap and took a deep breath. There was work to do. Yuri tore his gaze away from the casualty reports and strode out of the room. MACE would recover. America would recover....Humanity was still in danger. MACE would stand ready to defend them. They still had their weapons, their funding....and even if all of that vanished, Yuri wouldn't give up the fight.

 

Let them come. MACE would hunt down the terrorists that escaped the Brotherhood's destruction. They would stand vigil in the night streets, watching over their charges faithfully. They would stand tall against the slings and barbs of those who demonized them. Humanity trumped everything.

 

And so long as there was still strength in his arms, Yuri would stand his post. He had faced the fire and flames of war for years and it would take more then one hit below the belt the finish him off. The only peace for him would be the peace of the grave. Life was conflict, war, change. Everyone had their cause and everyone would fight for it, many of the brave would fight to the death. Yuri counted himself among them. If nothing else, the nation would be stronger for this. All HYDRA had done was fill the nation with resolve. They'd lost their president, New York had been attacked....and so much else had befallen them. When the United States at last emerged from this crucible, it would be stronger then ever.

 

Two guards posted in the hallway saluted him, doing a commendable job of hiding their own agony. Yuri recognized them. They'd been there during the riots. Just like that, he had another reason to fight. These weren't the soldiers who'd fought with him for most of his life, but they were his nonetheless. He would not abandon them. Yuri returned the salute. "Fall in men. We have work to do."

 

IC (Aldrich Brandt)

 

Aldrich stood atop a hill, watching the only home had ever known burn to the ground. HYDRA soldiers and ransacked the area and though the military was pushing them back...they'd missed these stragglers. Now, the town was burning. He could hear the roar of sirens, the tell-tale rumble of military vehicles. Too late. Far too late. Aldrich turned his gaze to the skies and for a moment, just for a moment, he smiled. A flock of Ravens was making good time into the forest. At least he'd managed to save them. The smile soon faded however. His history, his records...all gone, consumed by flames. His fortune....well, if there was anything left in the bank he'd be shocked.

 

The chances of those few mutants he'd given his gift to surviving was minuscule at best. Once again, he was the last Werewolf. When he died, he was almost certain his kind would pass as well. There was nothing here for him anymore. He'd failed. He could feel the changes wracking his body, feel his limbs elongate, feel his mouth shift as fangs grew, as his muzzle burst forth. He could feel hair growing, his hands becoming claws.

 

If anyone had been watching and had looked away for a second, just a second, they have seen the well-dressed gentlemen swap places with a hulking wolf-creature. Silently, the wolf turned towards the forest. He still had the north woods darkness, if nothing else. He could survive there. He would miss his books, but....it would be too painful to return. Better to hunt and kill and do his part to keep the local deer population in check.

 

OOC: Sendoffs for Manuel and Saphine incoming.

Edited July 22, 2013 by Basilisk

[Alex Humva]

IC [Devlen, Reykjavik Financial District]

 

Some days Devlen wondered why he even bothered. Then, as always, he realized he bothered because his company brought in 2.1 billion dollars a year and that cut him a good paycheck. But, of course, it couldn't just be for the money. He didn't sell guns just for the money. Ideologies, the continued quest for supremacy, politics, all of these fascinated him, and he could change it with business. He could manipulate the world on a grander scheme than he could even comprehend. It was satisfying, playing small, manipulating things ever so slightly and making changes equally as slight. More satisfying than trying to play the game that is the world itself.

 

He glanced at his watch, noting the time as he looked out at a cold but crisp Reykjavik. The Board of Directors had made its choice and the stockholders had as well; he would be stepping down from the head of the company, most likely to a cushy retirement out on a pacific island, one day to catch a jungle disease and die in his sleep. He didn't particularly feel like fighting it at this point; his time had come and gone. His replacement would be little more than a puppet of the board but she was an intelligent fellow. He still had his power in the company regardless, a word here and there and he could get things done. They'd never be able to truly root out his influence. Yet, he didn't care.

 

He glanced to his side, his ever faithful friend standing next to him, observing the city. She was older than he would ever be, had seen the rise and fall of civilizations. Did she truly care what happened to him, at the end of the day? His life was but a fraction of hers; she had witnessed kingdoms rise and fall. Was she angry that he would not fight this? Sad that her vision would not come? Bored, waiting on the next mortal to attach herself to? Did she truly feel at all, or was it just a mirror of what she saw around her?

 

It was pointless to debate these things, he decided. Silently, he picked up his briefcase, then looked at the woman. "I will miss this room. Finding offices with such large windows to glower down upon the populace is hard these days."

 

OOCKenneth post coming tomorrow.

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Saphine)

Saphine’s mind was racing . She’d lived so very long, seen so very much. She’d met dear friends, implacable enemies. She’d sat at the side of Khans, debated politics with Shoguns, fought in civil wars, and seen crusaders march off to war. An eternity stretched out in her mind, the invention of the automobile, the cellphone, the rifle…..she’d seen tanks roll across blasted battlefields, artillery throwing up dust and fire around them. She’d seen palaces rise, and seen those very same palaces burn. Through it all, she had resisted the temptation. Her friends died, her enemies withered and grew old….the few beings that could appreciate her situation were, by and large, bloodsucking monsters.

She’d seen wonders in her time. She remembered watching the skyscrapers rise over New York, watching the rise and fall of Mongolian Empire and she’d seen the fall of Ottoman Empire. She’d seen things she could never discuss with anyone save for a select few. These few always died. It was inevitable. What made it infinitely worse….it was in her power to stop this. The risks however, always seemed to outweigh the rewards. What if her friends become monsters? What if they couldn’t control their instincts? She’d be forced to kill them…or worse, they would escape and the potential deaths of hundreds would be on her conscience. Now though….times were changing. Perhaps she could risk it. No longer could a single vampire depopulate a small hamlet. There were serial killers every bit as deadly.

In a single moment, Saphine made her decision. “This does not have to be the end.” She paused for a moment. “I have not made this offer to any being throughout all my years. You know my fears. This time however…circumstances allow me to make an exception. I can grant you eternity. If you wish it.” Saphine shifted uncomfortably, her eyes on the cityscape before here. “If not, I shall remain at your side regardless. She brought her sulfuric yellow gaze to Devlen’s eyes. “Your answer?”

She hoped he would accept, though considering how she had coped with her initial transformation, she would not be surprised if he refused. She despised others of her kind, after all, most of them were serial killers. This was a rare moment, this offer would likely not be made for another thousand years.

[Vengent Spectre]

IC: Taralynn

 

She ran down the path laid before her. She had been running for hours, days, and she couldn't find her way out. She'd been trying for some time, her feet bloodied, the sky had long since darkened, almost as if saying give up, but still she trudged on. Slowly, she turned a corner only to see a dead end in the distance. The only choice at this point to turn back. Slowly, she turned back the way she'd came, planning on rounding the corner and taking the other path, only to yet again be met with disappointment at the sight of another dead end. She turned, both paths had lead to dead ends, and started to run. Her sprint stopped as her travel back up the path was met with another end. A curse slipped from her lips. It made no sense, no matter what she tried nothing worked. Her eyes widened as recognition finally dawned on her. The white slab around, the walls themselves were shifting. Closing in. Her heels crashed against the ground as she tried strained effort to find a way out. Over, under, somewhere. No matter what she tried it didn't work. There was nothing. The walls on either side were growing closer, boxing her in. She stood and beat her fists against the stone until it's gleaming white surface stained dark red. She'd tried everything, digging, climbing, scratching, it didn't, and this. This was her last resort. She stood until there was no longer space left to stand. She wanted to growl, to cry, to scream, but she wouldn't. Even as the feeling that if she did then all of it would stop, she didn't. As the darkness surrounded her she slowly closed her eyes. As the lid on her white tomb closed, the last sound audible was, tears.

 

 

 

 

 

IC: Alison

 

Alison dispersed. Her mind spreading with her molecules as she swirled. It didn't matter how long it took, she'd made her decision. When Tara got got back she'd be there. She'd wait. As Alison faded, the only sign that she'd ever been there remained below, a puddle. And even that, slowly evaporated. Only dry wood panel in it's place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

IC: Tora

 

Tora walked slowly. She was gone. Pietro was gone. He'd failed. Slowly, he walked down the path. He was lost. He had nowhere to go. He'd lost his purpose. Genosha. The Docks. The Tower. Rosalina. Slowly, Tora raised his head. But he would find it again. Slowly, Tora gazed toward the sunset, his hair failing around his eye, before turning and walking, the sun at his back.

 

 

 

 

OOC: Okay, this is my end. It's been a fun ride, but I'm cashing out. I'm not sure whether Tyler is still here but I'll make one last post. Loved it while it lasted, but it's time for me to make my own rpg.

[Alex Humva]

IC [Devlen]

 

"Eternity would be fascinating, but no my dear, I cannot accept your offer, for my eternity will not be yours." In Devlen's eyes was the image of a man who had seen the world come and go, and yet did not care. "In a thousand years I could achieve a great many things, but I will not achieve them in the same manner as yourself. No, I've had my technicians working on... something else. Studies of mutants have yielded a great many things for science, and for engineering, even more. My men suspect they are on the verge of breakthrough in neural-digital transference. A combination of photonics and specialized quantum processing cores will enable my very soul to be saved temporary, and then be transferred into a prepared body, be it machine or biological. When I die I will transcend and promptly return to the mortal coil.

 

"I will remain, Saphine, but not as who I am today. I will live a thousand lives, see a thousand generations come and go, and then I will live a thousand more."

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Saphine)

“Ah. The miracles of science.” Saphine smiled for a moment, countless faces and memories racing through her mind. “Your limo is waiting I believe. Where to next my friend?” She did not enjoy leaving behind this company, but she had time. She had more time than most would ever have. She could afford to retire for some time, besides, Devlen would probably get into trouble without her there to rein him in. She still remembered the time he’d decided to transform his parent’s foyer into a pillow-based recreation of Bunker Hill. Strange, it seemed like yesterday though years had passed since his childhood.