X-Men: Darkest Days

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Saphine)

 

"Of course. My contacts assure me that they can be trusted to fufill their contract to the letter. I have taken the liberty of reviewing their records and I am unconcerned. Excellent training. All ex-Gernadiers." Saphine pulled a small PDA out of her pocket and pulled up a few different files, all detailing the training and operations the men in this particular unit had embarked on. The Swiss Gernadiers were some of the finest soldiers in the world, specializing in rapid assault operations and urban ops. They were perfect for this mission in other words. Saphine glanced at the weapons that had been displayed and something like approval flickered across her features. "My compliments. These are excellent. Most excellent."

Edited March 5, 2013 by Basilisk

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Thank you," Jenna said with a warm smile. "It's a modern retelling of an old Frank Lloyd Wright design. Brooklyn helped put some of the touches on it herself, when she was only seven."

 

Brooklyn reached out and hugged Rebekah around the shoulders, yawning slightly (she still wasn't entirely over her nap) as Jenna took a sip of fruit juice.

 

"Mom, you missed it. Rebekah and I made an invention."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:Rebekah suddenly froze, halfway through taking a sip of her drink. She had no idea how Brooklyn was going to handle mentioning the SuperSpork event.Oh dear.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Really? What kind of invention?"

 

Brooklyn grinned, taking a huge sip of her drink and then setting it down.

 

"We made a whole trap door tunnel thing through the X-Manor. It was awesome. I was like Rambo without machine guns. Well...machine guns on me, anyway."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:Quite suddenly, Rebekah remembered how to breathe again, as she took another sip of her drink. She looked sheepishly at her feet, recalling the incident Brooklyn mentioned. They'd gotten the idea from how she'd traveled through the subceiling, and decided to try and improve it.Needless to say, the project was most certainly not Beast-approved. Actually, to this day no one knew for sure.

[Makuta of Time]

IC: Marauder

Hours have gone by and Marauder is still looking out the window. Not even moving an inch, or blinking for that matter. It's night and the day has gone by. He now heads to the training are of the Helicarrier. To this day, in his six years with SHIELD, he still has not gotten used to the immense amount of halls that it has.

[Constructelf]

OOC: Flaredrick, time doesn't pass by so fast. This isn't exactly BZPRPG time; the date is a bit more solid. It should be mid-afternoon, December 25, 2012 right now.

 

IC: Gamemaster

Wyatt sat on the medical bed, looking around. For some reason ,the world seemed to have forgotten that he existed...

[Krayzikk]

OOC: CM?Time does work that way. You might note that Brooklyn and Rebekah just had two hours pass in a single post. This isn't a structured time period, this is most certainly not December 25th any longer, and even if it was, he can have time pass more or less however he wants.

 

Just as long as it is nothing extreme. Time only really matters when one is realistically trying to reach other characters a long distance away.

 

It is, in point of fact, BZPTime.

Edited March 5, 2013 by The Snark Knight

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (General Yuri)

 

"General." The senators voice was low, dangerous. The voice of a man not used to being defied. "I was assured we would inspect the convention hall first. We-"

 

Yuri sighed. Blackmailing his way into the United States Armed Forces had seemed like such a good idea at the time. He had evidently forgotten the reason he'd left national armies in the first place....the government. He had important matters to see to, pushing that martial law bill through, building up a network of contacts within the city and inspecting the Enforcers.....but, instead, here he was. Playing guard to a pro-mutant fool who honestly thought something like a bloody convention hall could be utterly secure. The president's public ratings were at an all time low, even the vice president was distancing himself from him. This conference was just a hail mary. Everyone knew the end was coming.

 

"Rest assured senator, I will make your security a priority. I merely thought it wise to pay a visit to the most dedicated security force in the city first. If this conference is attacked, it will be by a force the local police simply cannot handle. The Enforcers will be the first on the scene." Yuri looked into the balding man's eyes, he could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

 

"Very well General. Very well."

Edited March 5, 2013 by Basilisk

[Constructelf]

OOC: CM?Time does work that way. You might note that Brooklyn and Rebekah just had two hours pass in a single post. This isn't a structured time period, this is most certainly not December 25th any longer, and even if it was, he can have time pass more or less however he wants.

 

Just as long as it is nothing extreme. Time only really matters when one is realistically trying to reach other characters a long distance away.

 

It is, in point of fact, BZPTime.

OOC: Oh? Oh...

 

Well, his character is on the Helicarrier right now, so now there's a temporal rift on the SHIELD base. Which probably isn't really the biggest thing ever so it may pose a bit of a problem when he's trying to interact.

[Makuta of Time]

OOC: CM, I never posted what time I put on my first IC. I'm going for dusk or late afternoon.

Edited March 5, 2013 by Flaredrick: Forgotten One

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Lord God, I come to You a sinner and I humbly repent of my sins."

 

Warren Worthington III had his head bent slightly, hands clasped atop his knees, eyes closed, as he ran over the consequences of what he was about to do in his mind. His son would hate him, as would John Howlett; Hank would be appalled, no doubt. What was left of Scott and Jean's family would never again even look at him. Poor Brooklyn's innocence, her deification of her stepfather, would be totally shattered. That, more than almost anything, killed him: the fact that this may cause him to actually lose his family.

 

But it was worth it, because he'd rather lose them this way than...the alternative. Not again.

 

"I believe that Jesus is Lord and that you raised Him from the dead. I ask that Jesus will come into my life and be my Lord and Savior. I receive Jesus to change and take control of my life that I may life for Him from this day forth and from now on. Thank You Lord Jesus for saving me and cleansing me with Your precious blood. In Jesus name, Amen."

 

Since the earliest days of the X-Men, the hardest, most despicable tasks had somehow fallen to the Angel of the group: X-Force, the role of Death, carrying on the legacy of the X-Men, going into business...Warren had been forced to become one of the group's cutthroats, second only to Logan at times, and he despised it. When he had awoken from his first death, looked and saw what had become of the final group to have charged at Jean, he had screamed up at the sky, wept bitterly, cursed in open-throated anger on high and roared for God to come down and explain himself. He'd lost himself, for a while, to Archangel, and upon the return of his better half he'd sworn that he would never again watch what happened with Jean go down again.

 

Against his will, Jean appeared on the insides of his eyelids, mocking him at every blink. She was every bit as amazing, as inhumanly gorgeous and emotionally perfect, in his recollections as she had been in real life. Her soft laugh, twinkling eyes, the way she dressed...if she had been around today, no doubt she would have worked at, say, a Starbucks, or a Panera Bread, or some hipster joint like that, but they had kids. It didn't matter. And now Warren was a kid, forever. Frozen in his early twenties thanks to Apocalypse's wizardry. His son would die before him; as would his daughter, too, no doubt. Jean finally disappeared as he opened his eyes, looked at Alaric's still-inert body tied up, gagged, and half-shoved inside a storage closet where Dallas Green's uniform once would have gone.

 

Then she appeared again, and Warren growled in anger at his mind before he realized it wasn't Jean at all: it was Ashlynn. God, they looked alike. So, so alike, except Ashlynn had ripped a page out of his playbook and sprouted wings somewhere along the line. She really did look like an angel, and what's more, she could have qualified to be one, except for the Phoenix. Except for Jean. Except for what he knew. What he'd seen. How he'd hurt.

 

A beep on the radar, and Ashlynn disintegrated before his very eyes, dust in the wind that scattered away from him, irreparable. Maybe that was a ritual of some kind, he didn't know: Warren hadn't been big on God for the last seventeen years. Maybe this, he'd reasoned, was the best - the only - time to reconnect with whatever was above. In between the beeps that signified Las Vegas was beneath him, in between the mental screams of agony that echoed through his mind just from his proximity to Ashlynn, in between the slow, shocked breaths he took as he flew over the charred up remains of city streets where Kurt Wagner's kid had met his end and where Ashlynn Summers had triggered hers...in between everything, Warren Worthington III could almost hear God speaking to him.

 

He could tell who she was by the flash of crimson locks in his peripheral vision, almost on accident as he hovered low to the ground, Blackbird's invisibility function on. He could tell who she was by the sudden sight of wings, sprouting from her shoulder blades like clouds sprout from the sky, but most importantly, he could tell who she was by the way his heart stopped in regret and guilt when he even looked her way. He killed those feelings; if Jean were here, she would want this. He had to believe that she would want this.

 

He landed on a building near her, so that she couldn't see what direction he was approaching from or even note him, but she was close enough that he could barely make out the look on her face. It was one of regret, pain, guilt; maybe she was still in there, somewhere, struggling with the Phoenix. But it was a struggle Warren knew Ashlynn would lose: it was an inevitability. Just like last time. With that thought in mind, he pulled out his phone and texted a simple street address to Alex Smith, an X-Man who had just returned, who had no real familial ties with the X-Men but had grown to be one of their most competent field leaders nonetheless. He would keep them in line, stop them from interfering. He was like Scott in that sense.

 

Except Scott would never allow this.

 

Would he?

 

At the end of the address, after a minute, Warren added one more sentence to the text: Don't look in your friend's locker.

 

As Warren stood up and walked to the exit bay doors, he stopped by said locker just once and partially opened it, running his hand through Alaric's soft, black hair just once with a silent nod. His son's body slumped against the locker as it slammed shut again: it would still take him hours to fully resurrect. The timing was perfect. The situation...far from it.

 

Closing his eyes as the sun hit him, the blonde haired OG X-Man let his wings unfurl through the back of his white v-neck, put his hands in his pockets for a second as he walked to the edge of the building and then over it, landed softly on the roof where Ashlynn was very clearly struggling against...something. With an understanding look, Warren made his way over to her not in a run, but in a fast-paced walk, and took her head gently in his hands, running a hand on her forehead as if checking for a temperature.

 

Goddammit, she looked like Jean.

 

"Ashlynn, it's okay. It's not a trick; it's me, Warren."

 

It's not a trick. He couldn't call it a trick, otherwise he'd have to take it one step further and call this what it really was. Justifiable homicide.

 

Thank God Warren had a mental shield, otherwise the pain spilling from his skull would send Ashlynn even further over the edge.

 

-Tyler

[AuRon the champion]

OOC: I was wondering about that...

 

IC:

 

"Alright Chris, if we run into police, we should probably try to-" Christopher looked around, trying to find his double.

 

" it."

 

Hospitals, Rebekah took Aleks to a hospital. Christine followed them, Chris thought as he ran through the streets, effectively invisible thanks to his camouflage. Forget about the others, he had to find Christine.

 

Warren finished draining more power from the mansion. Some of the students may have noticed, but more of the lights had gone out. He quickly expanded his field again, pulling several metal gratings away from what seemed like vents, and pushing them against the door-frame. He wasn't sure how long the makeshift barrier would hold, but he hoped long enough for him to find someone to help him destroy the slushbot. The electrokinetic quieted for a moment, trying to hear if anyone else was nearby...

 

THERE! He thought, charging at a sealed door.

 

Magnetic, He thought with a sense of joy, as he quickly released his field to encompass him and the door, which resulted in the metal being blasted away from him with magnetic force.

 

And there they were, Mr. McCoy, some students, and some robots. The ones that were left quickly were forced off by the electromagnetic field that now encompassed all of the students. Any robots caught inside of it were quickly shut off.

 

​"Uhm, Hi," Warren said, embarrassed seeing as how he caused this, "Uh, need some help..?"

 

"I'm Sarah," The shape-shifter said, turning back to her normal self, "Sarah Hailey, I live here. I also help with cooking, cleaning, and whenever it starts back up again, teaching. You must've been the one knocking on the door. Sorry, I was... Preoccupied. As for what's going on here, if I had to guess, I say someone tried to cut the power, which cut the power to the Danger Room..."

 

Sarah looked around, trying to spot any unwelcome company, "Which caused the Danger Room to... Malfunction? Malfunction, and go berserk..."

 

"You'd best come with us, we're trying to find any of the others."

 

Raptured coughed as she finally waked up. She was immediately blinded by the bright, white lights that were on the wall facing here. Or was that the ceiling? She was too disoriented to tell the difference. She tried to sit up, only to find her movements restricted by, ugh, clothes, and handcuffs on her hands and ankles. Even worse than that, someone had decided to tie her tail and wings to her body.

 

Great, she thought, trying to use her telepathy to find some weak-minded individual to aid her. Only, she couldn't see past the walls of her mind.

 

"You're wearing a power-dampener," a voice said, "As for what happened... We decided that you had too much to offer to kill you off."

 

Rapture tried again to sit up, eyes adjusting. What appeared to be an energy-barrier kept her in a small, nondescript room. All that was in the room was white walls, a bed, and a toilet. Great. On the other side of the energy barrier... She couldn't tell. It had been darkened so she couldn't see out. But whoever was on the other side could probably see in.

 

"Who are you?" She growled, "Where am I!?"

 

"I do believe, you have no authority to ask questions. But for the time, I will humor you. I am Agent Molotov. And you... You are in the greatest prison humanity and mutants have built. The Cube."

 

Rapture frowned, she could believe that she was in a prison, but she had never heard of this particular prison before. And the whole "humans and mutants" thing sounded fishy to her.

 

"You don't believe me. That's natural. This prison was built with a combination of human and mutant efforts... Under the guidance of SHIELD."

 

Oh, that's why.

 

"So now what?" Rapture asked, "You're going to keep me here?"

 

"For now. I'm a big believer in the concept of justice. I also believe in redemption. Everyone deserves in a second chance, and I'm going to give you one. Help us, and I'll attempt to help you change your life around."

 

Rapture frowned, that sounded ridiculous. Even for her.

 

"So tell me then, what do you need help with..?"

[Constructelf]

OOC: Revised Asardin

 

Name: Asardin (alias Abrahem Hassani)Codename: NoneAge: Somewhere around 3150 years old.Gender: MaleFaction: Allegiance unclear; believed to be allied with either the Hellfire Club, the Brotherhood of Mutants, HYDRA, or the Closed Circuit Syndicate (EVIL)Power(S): Asardin possess a powerful regenerative healing factor, functioning at around 80% of Wolverine's. As well, he possess the power of repulsion. He can create powerful telekinetic waves that can blow back one object at a time (similar to a Crast,). He can use this power to hover for limited amounts of time. While not one of his "powers" he possess powerful psychic shields that grant him near-immunity to telepathic attacks. These shields were created from millenia of training.Appearance: Asardin has a very Iraqi look, though he also has Palestinian, Jewish, and Egyptian traits. He has a very muscular body and is quite tall (about 6'7"). He would look like a Greek God except for the colour of his skin. Standing with an air of nobility, he almost seems to be glowing at times. He is usually dressed in a business suit, though sometimes he may dress in traditional Babylonian clothing.

Weapons: Asardin has a massive collection of various kinds of weapons from all ages in his home. However, the weapon he uses most often is a spade, a symbol of Marduk.

Skills: Asardin is educated in the knowledge of many civilizations, having lived through many different eras. In his youth, he was educated in the mysticism of the Chaldeans. Later, he learned the political sciences of the Romans, the science of the Muslims, the Alchemy of Renaissance Europe, and many other civilization's traditions and knowledge. Personality: Asardin is under the mistaken belief that he is a deity of some sorts. Believing himself to be the son of Marduk he views himself as a divine, superior being.As a result, he is arrogant, contemptuous, and prideful. As well, he has a very nihilistic view of humanity; seeing numerous civilizations rise and fall can do that to you. He is under the impression that humans, no matter how hard they try, will ultimately go extinct and be forgotten by the cosmos. As a result, he holds concepts such as morality, nationalism, and human rights with disdain.Weakness: Asardin's arrogance can get the better of him at times. He views the human race as "insects" and as a result, often fails to realize or comprehend their inner resourcefulness. As well, he reacts negatively to anybody who disagrees with his supposed "divine" status, going into intense fits of rage when insulted. Also, he can't regrow limbs, and damage to major organs will only heal at a rate similar to a regular human's. His repulsion power can only target one object at a time and can only strike objects within his direct line of sight. Bio: Asardin was born in Babylon during the reign of Nebuchadnezzar I. A member of the Awilu, Babylonia's upper class, he enjoyed a life of privilege, despite the fact that he was raised by a single mother, his father having disappeared shortly after he was born. Then, one day, Asardin was walking through the streets when a wall collapsed on top of him. However, at that moment, his mutant powers manifested themselves and he shortly emerged from the rubble unscathed. This piqued the interest of the royal court, who subjected him to various tests, all of them brutal in nature, Asardin passing them all. The only explanation that the wise men and the court magicians could offer was that Asardin had divine blood flowing through his veins. Asardin was instantly hailed as a demigod, and his social standing skyrocketed. Being educated in the traditions of the Chaldean mystics, Asardin became one of the Royal Court's greatest sages. Living through each of the dynasties of Babylon, he became highly respected as he commanded power and wisdom no other of the mystics in the court possessed.

Then, Babylon was conquered by the Persians. Asardin, trying to avoid unnecessary attention, posed as a commoner, and for the next centuries of his life, he lived a lowly life, being reduced to a roadside merchant. However, he rose up the social ladder once more during the reign of the Roman Empire, becoming an orator. Then the Empire was divided, Rome was sacked, and the Muslims conquered Persia. Asardin lived a relatively normal life until the sack of Baghdad in 1257, being one of the few survivors. Then he survived the Black Death, a second Mongol Invasion, and the period of civil war that was the rule of the Ottoman Empire. During this time, he began making frequent visits to Europe, slowly learning the ways of the Europeans.

Eventually, sometime after World War II, Asardin grew sick of the now war-torn region of Iraq and moved to the Americas. Despite facing heavy racism, he managed to carve out a life for himself in the New World. It was during this time that his nihilistic personality began to form, and while he had always been a tad arrogant, he now believed himself to be far superior to the "insects" that populated the Earth. Secretly allying himself with the Brotherhood of Mutants, he began to plot his dominance over humanity, feeling the urge to exercise his misinformed status as a god...

Also, would it be okay if he used a replica of the Etemenaki as his base?

Edited March 6, 2013 by Constructman

[shadow pridak money gang]

OOC:

 

Faction: Allegiance unclear; believed to be allied with either the Hellfire Club, the Brotherhood of Mutants, HYDRA, or the Closed Circuit Syndicate (EVIL)

 

So...he's just with any baddie faction, then...?

 

-Tyler

[Constructelf]

OOC: I don't know where he'd best fit. He'd probably be leaning towards the Brotherhood the most, but he still wouldn't exactly fit in.

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Yuri)

 

Yuri made a point of ignoring the senator, turning to his aide, a young fellow, but one who was proving remarkably reliable. "Thompson. ETA on POTUS?" The president was a fool, but it was still his job to protect him....and Yuri refused to have his near-flawless record besmirched. Even if that record was largely in his head....which was a blessing really, if half of that was public knowledge, he would be out of a job.

 

Yuri allowed focused his thoughts on the task ahead. The conference was a rushed affair, in truth, if one had looked at the president's schedule a week ago, they wouldn't have seen it. That could cause all sorts of nasty security problems of course, the Secret Service would be in command when it came to the president, but Yuri had no intention of leaving the convention hall entirely in their hands. Although layered security would eliminate much of the problems he expected to face, he didn't entirely trust the people who would be attending this little conference. If there was one thing that the past few decades had proven to him, there was only one question worth asking when it came to security:

 

I know I'm paranoid, but am I paranoid enough?

 

That was the question every decent security officer asked themselves everytime they got up for work.

 

"Nothing yet sir." Thompson's voice cut into Yuri's thoughts. Yuri detected a slight bit of disgust in the young man's voice, and made a mental note to arrange a raise for him.

 

"Of course not. That'd make things easy..."

Edited March 6, 2013 by Basilisk

[Flex Lord Splash]

OOC: I think we have enough healing factor characters in this game Constructman. John, Julia, Jaws, Krystal, Nero (when he’s a lycan), Rapture and I think Nick has one or something.

 

You don’t have to trash the character. Just say his mutant ability is to not age past a certain age or something like immortality. His other powers should be fine without the healing.

 

IC: Songbird

 

Song’s telepathic attacks on Ashlynn had quickly begun to take their toll without her even realizing. Her lids began to become heavy and her mind wanted to drift away and rest.

 

No, I can’t rest… I have to fight… fight this telepath attacking me; Ashlynn thought as she attempted to stay away. But it was hard, incredibly hard for her to do this. This wasn’t normal… someone was making her this sleepy, telepathically, she knew it.

 

Ashlynn giggled as her mom began to tuck her into bed. “Lay still my little angel,” Jean said as she knelt over Ashlynn and kissed her forehead. “Or you won’t be able to fall asleep baby girl.” Jean said. Ashlynn looked up at her mother with matching bright emerald eyes. Her mother was beautiful, she looked almost exactly like Ash would when she grew up, but her features were slightly sharper. She reached up and tugged at one of the long red locks of her mother’s hair. Baby Ashlynn’s eyes began to close then as her mother’s telepathic powers went to work.

 

“Goodnight.” Jean said before Ashlynn’s eyes closed.

 

The crimson haired mutant suddenly heard a familiar voice. It was Warren. She felt his hands on her forehead.

 

“Warren, thank god you’re here… I need help he’s assaulting my mind and I can’t stay awake…”

 

Warren's brow furrowed, and he helped support Ashlynn softly, holding her against him as he touched her forehead with the tips of his knuckles.

 

"It's alright, Ashlynn. I'm here. Just focus on me."

 

"Thank you," Ashlynn said as he held her softly. "Is Ric here? Did he come with you?" she asked. As she stared up at Warren her half asleep thoughts turned back to a memory of when her father held her as a little girl. She remembered being nestled up in Scott’s strong arms. Her father smiled down at her, his red-glasses covering his eyes. She never got to see his eyes. Right now though she could see Warren’s clearly, they seemed to be a mix of emotion.

 

"He's not around right now, but he's alright. What about you? What happened?"

 

Thinking about Ric brought back memories. She saw herself blushing as Ric brought Wendy’s into her classroom. She saw her and Ric sitting by the lake holding each other as they watched the water sparkle in the sunlight. She saw him as he first taught her to retract her wings within her illusion.

 

“They shot Zack… the Phoenix awakened and it tried to burn them, but Jeremy teleported in the way, he was killed. I killed him.” She said as fresh tears ran down her cheek, sparkling in the light.

 

"It's alright, Ashlynn," Warren said, his embrace instinctively tightening around his son's girlfriend for a second. "Just focus on me. Keep steady."

 

Slowly, one hand still wrapped around her waist, another hand reached up to brush her tears away from her cheek. As the tear broke open on Warren's fingertip, a kaleidoscope of color from the evening sun hit the damp spot on his finger, shining on the spot in front of them.

 

"Just focus on me," he said, bringing his hand back to her jawline and wiping away the tears again.

 

"It'll be okay."

 

Warren's hand jerked to the left, Ashlynn's head still in his firm grip.

 

CRACK!

 

Ashlynn’s neck was instantly snapped around in a way it should naturally turned. She died almost instantly. But as her world faded to black she saw a single symbol within the darkness. The symbol of the phoenix in bright white. Then Ashlynn’s world ended.

[Wyrd Bid Ful Araed]

IC: The part of Song's mental presence in Ashlynn's mind snapped back to her with a psionic squeal of what equated to feedback. Someone had killed her?! What did they think they were doing! The Phoenix was a force of rebirth, thats why it kept coming back! There were at least two other potential candidates for the Phoenix to inhabit and Summers children always seemed to crawl out the woodwork from alternate dimensions and time streams. By manifesting in the girl it had given them a known target to strike at. They could capture her and contain it, even if that meant keeping her in a vegetative state. But now the girl was dead and the Phoenix was free to chose another. Maybe even with the next few days as it was already present on Earth

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Jace's phone rang again, and this time the vampire didn't even try to disguise an eye roll as he held up a finger at Lynae and picked up the phone. Slowly, his face changed from one of a carefully plotted disdain to...

 

"What?"

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:A tendril of though reached out and brushed against Song's presence, reopening the pathway that had been closed in the assault. Though his identity was still unknown, mental signature alone was enough for her to know that it was the same man as before.This did not go as planned. I think we both know that the Phoenix is not finished.

[Constructelf]

IC KnowerA second ripple soon followed, this time much more massive, as if a container of compressed gas had shattered. "The ?" I thought. "This warrants investigation."Sitting down at my desk, I placed my hand on a psionic amplifying plate and began to search. Faint images flashed in my mind as I tried to focus on what had happened. The pictures were cryptic, as I saw an angel crouching over the dead body of another... Yet the fallen one seemed to be wreathed in flame, a light that was there one moment and then was gone... Was this a sign? Was it an omen of good, or of ill? Was it a glimmer of hope or the final stroke of doom?

[Makuta of Time]

OOC: I wonder when White Lightning will be approved.

[Wyrd Bid Ful Araed]

IC: Agreed, Song answered, I suggest we meet. Off the record for both my organisation and yours, if you have one. We have to discuss a next move.

[Madara: Mangekyou Master]

OOC: Gonna skip the Melker bit a little. IC Cambion Boston: Vice-President Ocalan, thank you for clarifying some of your views on the escalating situation in Las Vegas. Now, before the campaign, you made a name for yourself in the Senate as a critic of superheroes and a proponent of the Mutant Registration Act. In light of the situation, what do you have to say?Cambion frowned slightly, rubbing his jaw as he drove. Though his shape was now identical to Professor Persson, the residual pain from the SHIELD agents blows remained. The car was practical and plain. And of course, most of his favourites are talk radio stations.The Vice-President spoke confidently and smoothly. I think its obvious. Superpowered tyrants and terrorists have been a threat to America since World War II. However, a system of international management and cooperation has managed to stem many of these threats. We built SHIELD, and we did it again in the Avengers, and it is my hope that we continue to see regulated groups.The mutant smiled, drifting off into his thoughts. Of course, it was unlikely that the Professor would be a problem in the future. The Agent had pinned him to the floor, a gun jabbed up his jaw. Victor had no choice but to activate his chaos manipulation abilities. The power was refreshing, and had given him a window of an opening. The Agent was wiping a drop of blood from his nose when he sneezed unexpectedly. Enough of an opening for Victor to flip him to the side and smash the agent in the chest with an elbow strike.By some stroke of luck, the blow had struck his chest at a crucial point in the heartbeat cycle. Commotio cordis. Pretty rare. Cambion smirked. He had dropped the SHIELD agent out of the window, hiding him behind some bushes near an out-of-the-way stoner pit. The smell alone will keep him well hidden. Buckler, Kite and Sköld wasnt far now. Hopefully, making it past the security protocols would be made easier with his new appearance. The same principles should be applied to mutant citizens. Weve seen it happen again and again. Im sure you remember the apartment building in Cleveland that burned down in 2010. 43 people dead, roughly half directly by fire. 11 people suffered permanent disability. Survivors recall seeing the 12-year old son of one of the families in the basement suites, running around in panic, covered in a coat of fire. Autopsies showed that the boy had the X-gene, and he died due to smoke inhalation. There was a pause on the radio, as the VP let the irony sink in.Too many times have we seen the same pattern repeat itself. Young people at the peak of adolescence, suddenly activating hidden genes with disastrous consequences. My heart goes out to the families. Of victims on both sides of the table. Simply put, the status quo has failed the American people. Cambion turned up the volume a little. Thank you for your passion. Now, since this is such an important issue to you, will you be attending the summit organized by the President on mutant issues?Unfortunately, while the President is hosting his conference with mutant leaders and UN diplomats down in New York, I will not be able to attend. It was rather short notice. But circumstances may be for the best. The Mutant Registration Act was viciously opposed by Dr. Hank McCoy, whom I heard was asked to deliver the keynote address. The Vice-President chuckled ruefully.Lets just say that my dedication for protecting Americas citizens, mutant or otherwise, has ruffled some feathers in certain camps.One final question. Do you think the conference will be able to generate some answers for the mutant problem?The Vice-Presidents voice was firm. I have heard Dr. McCoys views several times over, and the Presidents personal circumstances have coloured his rhetoric recently. If the conference is able to generate some true dialogue concerning the state of mutants in our communities, it may be of some worth.He paused for a moment. I believe in long-term solutions forged by hard work and community cooperation, not kneejerk reactions and soapboxes for tired monologues. However, regardless of my personal views, I made a promise to do my utmost to serve and protect the American people. No matter what administration, or political capacity I am in, I will not break my promis-. Victor shut off the radio.Cambion pulled up to Buckler, Kite and Sköld, turning off the ignition and exhaled sharply. He checked himself in the rearview mirror. He was a veritable clone of Melker Persson. Cambion kissed the yellow gemstone on his ring. "Luck, please guide my steps." IC - New York - NPC Brotherhood Squad:"Has the flight route been confirmed, Spider?" A tall man with medium-length black hair was seated on a rooftop, looking over at the JFK International Airport. His steely blue eyes surveyed the airport, as he sipped a no-name brand of cola. Usually, he would prefer something stronger. "I'd probably wet myself if I messed up."A female voice purred in his head. "You know we can all hear you, Supremacy." Supremacy frowned in displeasure. "Yeah, well, I'm not about to go back to Quicksilver and tell him we missed a once-in-a-lifetime opening." One could almost hear the other mutant roll her eyes through the psychic link. "Yeah. We all know how important this job is. Arrival has been confirmed. They should be landing in 20 minutes." The target had taken off from Seattle almost 5 hours before, after attending a fundraising gala for wounded veterans. Within the house was a lithe female, with bright purple hair and black corneas, codenamed Spider. She sighed. Now all they needed to do was wait for the bird to land in their web. OOC: Two members of the Brotherhood hit squad

Edited March 20, 2013 by Madara: Mangekyou Master

[Makuta of Time]

IC: Marauder

Marauder begins some simulation runs in the VR training room of the helicarrier. The room begins to look like a jungle, filled with tropical trees and plants. The sound of birds chirping can be heard through the rooms speakers. His main objective was to take down the enemies without rising any suspicion. He loaded his MK with special rounds and aimed at a target's head...

[Krayzikk]

IC:Agreed. Marcus thought back, crossing his arms absently. Name a place. I can be there within a few minutes.

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Yuri)

 

Still doggedly determined to ignore the senator not one seat away from him, Yuri silently mourned the fact this part of the helicopter had been sound proofed. Even the droning roar of the machine would be a welcome distraction. Endeavoring to look as busy as possible, he gestured to Thompson once again. "General sitrep?" Yuri knew most of it already, but it never hurt to review the information at hand.

 

Thompson shrugged. "Pretty bad sir. Someone wiped out a mutant bar about a day ago. Very professional. No survivors. Left behind maybe twenty or so orphans, brought up the whole mutant-state issue again. Already have marches in the streets in some cities. Some pro-mutant, many more anti-mutant. When they're not beating the heck out of each other, they're taking it out on the police. We've got next to no word on the Brotherhood. SHIELD is still reeling." Thompson paused for a moment, bringing his laptop out of his knapsack and unfolding it. "Most of command is still in a panic over the lastest Phoneix Incident. Half of them want to hunt the channeler and shoot em on sight. The other half want her disabled somehow. We've got forces on alert all over the nation...." Which, of course, would do nothing to defuse tensions.

 

"LA is going to take some time to rebuild. Anti-Mutant canidates are probably going to sweep the elections there, heck, they'll probably capture most of the state senate next time election season rolls around. Provided the incumbents don't change their spots." Which was already happening. Yuri knew that much. "We've still got some boys in the mideast and I don't need to tell you the whole region is about ten seconds away from exploding."

 

Yuri nodded. As expected, the situation hadn't improved in the slightest. "On top of that, we've got a thousand little brush wars in Africa..." Thompson winced. Understandable, Africa had played host to many of his relatives. "Whole worlds going up in flames sir."

 

Yuri wasn't inclined to disagree. "With the President coming to town, New York isn't going to be much better." What had the man been thinking? New York had been scarred by the Mutants feuding with each other more then any other city. Many had a grudge against them for that fact. He supposed POTUS was trying to salve the wounds, but that was small comfort considering the task Yuri was facing.

Edited March 6, 2013 by Basilisk

[sunflower]

IC:"Hiya," Tyler said to Jesika with a grin as he turned to see the little kid. "I'm Tyler. You wanna help me find a book to read so I can get a free pizza? I'll split it with you!"

IC: Jesika

 

The girl's expression lit up like a Christmas tree decked out in so many lights it was a giant cone-shaped fire hazard. With a silver-plated star, obviously. Although, almost instantly Jesika's face took on a more serious look, as if she was considering a very important offer. Although, the expression was almost comical, considering the fact that it looked like something out of an only half-decent silent film. "You've got yourself a deal," she finally replied in her (cliche) dark-mystery-movie-detective tone. "But only if I get to choose a topping."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Are you going to choose bacon and/or black olive?"

 

-Tyler

[Wyrd Bid Ful Araed]

IC: Central Park, Song suggested, A touch cliched perhaps, but it is public enough that we can avoid meeting without looking suspicious, and busy enough that neither of us could try anything without unnecessary casualties. And the number of minds should prevent any other telepaths picking us up on a random sweep

[Snelly]

IC: The Mysterious Priest

 

The Priest actually frowned for once in his life, this wouldn't do at all, killing the host of the phoenix was not the solution to the problem no...he'd seen this exact same scenario play out countless times over the centuries.

 

Well that's a shame, ah well, better luck next time I suppose. These thoughts were detected by both Song and Marcus, though it sounded more like he was talking to himself.

[Krayzikk]

IC:Deal."Priest, I need to get to Central Park. If you'd be so kind, it should be the last thing I'll need to ask to borrow your power for."

[Alex Humva]

IC [Devlen/Richmond]

 

"I look forward to the shipments that will arrive tomorrow, then." Devlen glanced at his watch, then at Saphine. "I believe, if there's nothing left to discuss here, we best be heading towards the air strip. Wouldn't do well for the President of the United States to say something important and me, such a large developer and user of his precious money, not to be present, would it?"

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Yuri)

 

"No. It would not be proper. Not at all." Saphine considered chuckling, but discarded that notion. "However, I would humbly suggest we see to our own security. The service will be focused on the president, not his esteemed guests. Best to prepare for the worst." One didn't life far past two hundred if they didn't adopt that maxim. "I would suggest we take one of the armored cars once we arrive." Not because it would stop a determined attacker, but rather, because it would let them ram through the city traffic if they needed to escape.

Edited March 6, 2013 by Basilisk

[Snelly]

IC: The Mysterious Priest

 

The Priest grabbed Marcus' shoulder with a stoic look on his face, and the two vanished.

Edited March 6, 2013 by Snelly

[Constructelf]

OOC: Revised Asardin again

Name: Asardin (alias Abrahem Hassani)Codename: NoneAge: Somewhere around 3150 years old.Gender: MaleFaction: No faction; will work with "Evil" factions.Power(S): Asardin possess voluntary regenerative healing. As well, he possess the power of repulsion. He can create powerful telekinetic shockwaves that can blow back objects. The blast works like a shotgun; the farther the blast travels, the larger the blast area and the lesser the power. He can use this power to hover for limited amounts of time. Finally, he seems to possess an indefinite lifespan; while his body cannot heal injuries like Wolverine could, his body seems to be able to fight off the effects of aging. As well, his immune system is extremely efficient; he possess near-total resistance to most bacterial and viral infections. As a result, he possess the body of a man in his prime, even after three thousand years. He can be killed by "regular" means but he cannot die naturally. While not one of his "powers" he possess powerful psychic shields that grant him near-immunity to telepathic attacks. These shields were created from millenia of training.Appearance: Asardin has a very Iraqi look, though he also has Palestinian, Jewish, and Egyptian traits. He has a very muscular body and is quite tall (about 6'7"). He would look like a Greek God except for the colour of his skin. Standing with an air of nobility, he almost seems to be glowing at times. He is usually dressed in a business suit, though sometimes he may dress in traditional Babylonian clothing.Weapons: Asardin has a massive collection of various kinds of weapons from all ages in his home. However, the weapon he uses most often is a spade, a symbol of Marduk.Skills: Asardin is educated in the knowledge of many civilizations, having lived through many different eras. In his youth, he was educated in the mysticism of the Chaldeans. Later, he learned the political sciences of the Romans, the science of the Muslims, the Alchemy of Renaissance Europe, and many other civilization's traditions and knowledge. He possess some magical skill and astrological knowledge but not enough to be classified as a "power" (he knows the theory but lacks the practical power).Personality: Asardin is under the mistaken belief that he is a deity of some sorts. Believing himself to be the son of Marduk he views himself as a divine, superior being.As a result, he is arrogant, contemptuous, and prideful. As well, he has a very nihilistic view of humanity; seeing numerous civilizations rise and fall can do that to you. He is under the impression that humans, no matter how hard they try, will ultimately go extinct and be forgotten by the cosmos. As a result, he holds concepts such as morality, nationalism, and human rights with disdain.Weakness: Asardin's arrogance can get the better of him at times. He views the human race as "insects" and as a result, often fails to realize or comprehend their inner resourcefulness. As well, he reacts negatively to anybody who disagrees with his supposed "divine" status, going into intense fits of rage when insulted. Also, he can't regrow limbs, and damage to major organs will only heal at a rate similar to a regular human's. His repulsion power can only strike objects within his direct line of sight. The blasts also generate recoil proportionate to the strength of the blast, generally at about 75% of the blast power. This prevents Asardin from just spamming repulsion blasts, as he needs time to collect himself after each blast. Bio: Asardin was born in Babylon during the reign of Nebuchadnezzar I. A member of the Awilu, Babylonia's upper class, he enjoyed a life of privilege, despite the fact that he was raised by a single mother, his father having disappeared shortly after he was born. Then, one day, Asardin was walking through the streets when a wall collapsed on top of him. However, at that moment, his mutant powers manifested themselves and he shortly emerged from the rubble unscathed. This piqued the interest of the royal court, who subjected him to various tests, all of them brutal in nature, Asardin passing them all. The only explanation that the wise men and the court magicians could offer was that Asardin had divine blood flowing through his veins. Asardin was instantly hailed as a demigod, and his social standing skyrocketed. Being educated in the traditions of the Chaldean mystics, Asardin became one of the Royal Court's greatest sages. Living through each of the dynasties of Babylon, he became highly respected as he commanded power and wisdom no other of the mystics in the court possessed. Then, Babylon was conquered by the Persians. Asardin, trying to avoid unnecessary attention, posed as a commoner, and for the next centuries of his life, he lived a lowly life, being reduced to a roadside merchant. However, he rose up the social ladder once more during the reign of the Roman Empire, becoming an orator. Then the Empire was divided, Rome was sacked, and the Muslims conquered Persia. Asardin lived a relatively normal life until the sack of Baghdad in 1257, being one of the few survivors. Then he survived the Black Death, a second Mongol Invasion, and the period of civil war that was the rule of the Ottoman Empire. During this time, he began making frequent visits to Europe, slowly learning the ways of the Europeans. Eventually, sometime after World War II, Asardin grew sick of the now war-torn region of Iraq and moved to the Americas. Despite facing heavy racism, he managed to carve out a life for himself in the New World. It was during this time that his nihilistic personality began to form, and while he had always been a tad arrogant, he now believed himself to be far superior to the "insects" that populated the Earth. Secretly allying himself with the Brotherhood of Mutants, he began to plot his dominance over humanity, feeling the urge to exercise his misinformed status as a god. Commencing the rebuilding the Etemenanki, he now plans the return of the Annunaki, determined to show the "dust of Kingu" who they would be worshiping. Also, wouldn't there be a slight genetic difference between Asardin's DNA and the DNA of the modern man? Same goes for Foreshadow. Would the differences between their DNA mess around with mutant detecting equipment?

Edited March 7, 2013 by Constructman

[sunflower]

IC: Jesika

 

"Hm... depends on your choice topping," Jesika replied, having yet to drop the faux tone of voice.

[Let's Henshin!]

IC: Dante

 

After sitting around at the Starbucks for a few hours, Dante finally ran into someone who was actually helpful. After being pointed in the right direction, Dante turned and finally started walking home. You would think that at least a few more people would be hospital these days. Course with my luck they're probably all busy today. Ah well things should finally settle down and I'll be able to get back to my research.

 

As the Italian teenager had a bright smile on his face as he started to reach his home, Y'know with the rain gone, and all the fiasco over this really is a nice place. I see why so many people like taking vacations. Unfortunately for Dante his smile soon turned to a groan as he saw the people who were standing on his neighbor's porch. Ashley and British teenager. Rotten Luck.So much for things settling down.

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC: Feral (Las Vegas)

 

As Alex drove the van through the streets John suddenly heard the screeching of tires from behind them and the sound of powerful engines. He glanced out the rear-window in the back of the van to see about three armored vans speeding after them. Men leaned out of open windows on the side of the vans and began firing at the van the X-Men were in.

 

A bullet burst through the window near John as it was pumped into his shoulder. John grunted and then grabbed a pistol off the floor next to him. He’d grabbed it earlier as they’d been fleeing the battle.

 

John took aim and began firing back at the armored van, his bullets punching through the glass window in front of him.

 

“You’re gonna have to drive faster then this slim!”