Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Xmen Revolution. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Seek and Destroy; [Brotherhood, X-men, FOH]
Topic Started: Oct 2 2007, 04:11 AM (2,632 Views)
Cyclops
Member Avatar
Punches from the Punch Dimension
Mina never failed to amaze Cyclops. Few of the students ever saw her in her persona as Flux of the X-Men, using her powers to their fullest, and many of them speculated that that was the reason she was in charge of the school, and he was in charge of the field team. Her powers were too weak to make her an effective commander and so out of deference for her tenure at the school they'd shuffled her off into administrative after the Professor's death.

They were entirely wrong, and Mina, to her credit, did not raise a fuss or wantonly demonstrate her abilities to shut them up. She was content to do the job that Scott, and Ororo had abandoned as they coped with the loss of their mentor. While they might regret it, and while they might have their resentments, there was something to be said for the responsibility she had shown that the others in their grief were incapable of.

“Let’s go, I don’t know how long that’ll hold him,” she said quickly, keeping a close eye on the lead dome surrounding Trent as she motioned the rest of the X-men past her. “I’ll keep this one out of commission until you are all in the building, and then I’ll meet you inside.”

Cyclops nodded, understanding that what she had done she had done in her place as an X-Man concerned for the team, not as leader of the school or as an indication that she did not trust him. "Be careful, Flux," he told her.

Then, he looked over his shoulder, one last time at Jean, and through their telepathic link, he said, simply, ::I'll be back, Jeannie::

He moved around Flux, around Vibe, his team following behind him, as the Search and Rescue Squad moved the opposite way, following Storm.

"Where to boss," Rock-Solid asked.

Cyclops looked ahead at the building, wanting nothing more than to go immediately to where his brother was doing whatever it was he was doing, but that was not how it should be, not now. He had to move responsibly himself, had to think of his team and not his emotions. "Polaris, and Rock-Solid, you're with me. We'll take the right side of the compound. Hallow, Stretch, and Orbital, move left. Flux, catch up with them, immediately, if you can."

They move forward and into the building, the back of the compound unattended as the FOH soldiers moved to the front to combat the attacking Brotherhood. The walls inside were covered with blood from the Scarlet Witch's attack, and the lights that had not been completely torn from their sockets were flickering through a red filter that made very little difference to Cyclops.

There were several dead bodies in their path as they moved though the hallway. most of them either shot or drowned in blood, a particularly gruesome way to go in Cyke's opinion. Gunshots sounded from up ahead, and Cyclops spoke softly to the girls. "Stay behind me. Polaris, as soon as we are in sight, disarm them. Rock-Solid, stone anyone who charges if you can. I'll take them down if I need to. Whoever they are fighting, be prepared. We're on double duty right now."
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Warren Worthington
Unregistered

Warren could help but smile as he saw the weather beginning to change, and slowly the blood-storm moved away. Storm’s work was enough to dissipate the clouds, the rain turning to normal precipitation for a moment before becoming disappearing entirely. The clear skies gave him a perfect view of the town below and he winced as he saw the absolute chaos down below. The streets were flooded completely, buildings blown up, bodies lying out in the red gore that covered everything. It was like something from an Apocalypse movie.

He was glad to be up in the sky, where the smell couldn’t reach him though he had a liberal enough counting on his wings and body that he had fair idea of how it might be down there for the rest of the team in the field. He just had to hope that this whole thing was over before it started drying too much and hindering his flight.

As he swooped over ahead, eyes searching for his target, Warren also shot a few glances towards the Blackbird, which he could see had just landed. He wanted to be aware of what was going on down there, and really one woman shouldn’t be so hard to find. He hadn’t found her yet though, so that showed how much he knew.

Jean’s command broke into his head, and he banked against the wind, changing direction. He began ascending and cut left, eyes searching for the crimson figure in the vast expanse of sky. His eyes locked onto her with a brief surge of triumph and then he winged his way towards her.

::Thanks Red, I’ve found her.:: He replied, sending the thought back down the telepathic link. ::I’ll let you know when she’s down::

Warren considered drawing his swords, but that would mostly definitely be seen as an act of aggression, and considering the nature of her gift he needed to go about this in a way that would stop her turning her powers on him, because then he would have no chance.

He had no doubt that she saw him coming, so he had limited options.

“Greetings” he called out as he came closer and then stopped, hovering in front of her “Nice day for a flight…or a broomstick ride. Except some people have an idea that hellfire and bloody torrents might be a better way to go. Personally I’m more of sunshine and cool breeze kind of guy myself.” He commented. Try talking her down first, and if that didn’t work, he had a few aces up his sleeve. He was going for casual chat, but his appearance probably didn’t really help.

“I don’t think you want to fight as much as the others down there. How about you come with me?” he asked, extending a hand towards her.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Quicksilver
Member Avatar
Superspeed/ Superstrength
JP Alix and Pietro

She'd waited for them to arrive- quietly- and, for once.. vaguely fearfully. She knew that he knew she was here; he'd been the one to send her information. Halfway, she realized that it had been meant for her to hear- that she was supposed to relay the information..

But, she had to. When she mentally pinpointed the arrival of the Xmen, she smiled just barely- they'd fix this; they had to fix it. She might've been a strong telepath who was often more mature than her appearance suggested.. but when you got down to it, she was still just 18. In a way, she held to the typical teenage antics- rebel, but only so far. Now.. well, now she needed to make sure Alan and her mother were alright. All she had to do.. was get out unnoticed.

It couldn't be too hard, right?

The blood rain had stopped, but it still pooled on the ground. His boots, specially designed to withstand the rigors of his powers, sprayed the blood behind him as he ran in a gory wake. People screamed as he passed, but not at him, not so much. Just at everything he represented. The world around him froze, as it did when he ran with the wind, and in those fleeting hours, seconds to those who were not gifted with his powers, he saw a face, familiar and frightened.

He was idly relieved she was alone, and that she did not have the child with her this time. This was no place for a little one. It was no place for the teenager, either, though and so, while his heart was already leaping ahead to his sister's plight, he was forced to stop, unwilling to allow more death on his head.

The silver and scarlet blur that was the blood drenched Quicksilver slammed to a halt in front of Alix, and he looked at her sternly, his eyes darting to the giant illusion of his sister, "The X-Men allow children to fight their battles for them?"

For a brief, spare second, she jumped- her reaction faster than what would have been expected as she stared- almost imediately raising her hand in some sort of defense. To those unknowing- the move would have been almost mockable. But coupled with the fast change in her features- from soft, slightly fearful to a deathly focused emotionless haze.. it was hard to not take her seriously; especially with everything going on around. Blood storms; giant women.. nothing seemed impossible anymore. But, the look left as she lowered her hand, nervously shifting her gaze.. He was not a hostile. At least, not yet- there was so much going on at this point that it was hard to really dicearn who was who and what was what.

::N-no.. I couldn't let this happen.. I had to call them so they could fight him, and.. them.:: "Them" was a deathly general statement- she lumped the brotherhood in with the FOH, for sake of generality; besides- right now, in her mind- there was so many different forms of hate speeding about that it all felt the same. Him... well, it'd take a person privy to some inside information to know who "Him" was.

::I'm not a child.. I look like one.. but... I could fight.. if I wanted.:: She might not have said it but the "if I wanted" almost seemed to say "but I don't want to"

Pietro narrowed his silver blue eyes, trying to decide if she was lying to him or not. He was not an extra-ordinarily good judge of character, his emotional slant and tendency towards isolationism casting a pallor of suspicion over everyone he deigned to talk to. But Alix's mental voice spoke with far too much bluntness to not be the truth. Her words though caused his red streaked brows to knit. "I am one of 'them,' child." His tone was clear. He did not think she should be here, plain and simple. "Would you fight me if I struck out at you? Could you stop me?"

::I could.. but I wouldn't. You're not really one of them. You do not kill... just because you can. That man.. you let him run.. even if he is the enemy. That makes you.. different.:: She didn't talk much- that much was clear (not that she was to be blaimed for that; with a voice and an appearance like hers, it was best to keep quiet) But.. what she did say was increasingly insightful.

::You do your best:: she nodded silently, staring up at him with that same vague expression. ::But I am not afraid of you.. and.. without me, the Xmen might've been too late.:: And she wasn't; plain and simple. He was right- she shouldn't have been here.. but.. well, she was.

Pietro stared at the girl, his washed out eyes boring into her dark ones. His expression was almost unreadable, not from a lack of emotion, but from an abundance of them. He felt too deeply, too completely, but what those feeling were he was not analytical enough to categorize. He did not know the words in any of the languages he now spoke. The dullness of his childhood had not been a lack of understanding, but rather too much, his mind unable to decipher the overstimulation of his human (and therefore slow) brain. As an evolved being, that stimuli was capable of being received, but he had no real experience in how to handle it, making him the painfully unpleasant person he was.

Staring into her eyes, he had never met anyone who spoke to who he was so simply. You do your best. And, though she may have meant it as an invitation to attack, it meant something entirely different to him. He did his best, and it was his own stumbling personality that caused him to fall, the clumsy human child never entirely evolved.

He blinked and said, "You have nothing to fear from me, Alix. You are right. I never wanted this. I wanted a family and help for my sister. Magneto promised that as a father, but as a messiah, he has brought only death and madness. I don't know how to make this right."

::You can only live what's right. We might be different, we might be evolved.. but we all still hurt, and we all still stumble. Being superhuman doesn't make you invulnerable to that. Really, I think it makes it hurt more. We have so much more to loose than those that live normally.:: she nodded softly, staring back quietly.

::But.. in that, you have more to give.. Magneto's brotherhood.. they believe this is the way.. but looking now.. being here... you can see.. it's easiest to fight and hurt and kill.. but when you get down to it.. the easy way.. is never the right way.:: she smiled, just barely. ::You do good for your sister- and you try. That alone is a step towards making things right.::

Pietro looked at the illusion of his sister, "And I have failed her miserably. I want her back. Not the Scarlet Witch, but the Wanda she was before her powers. She wasn't much different from you. There was intelligence and promise and a kindness that I don't think you've seen. Her powers..." He dragged a blood stained over his face to brush a mat of now pinkish hair out of his eyes... or at least that is what he hoped she thought he was doing. "You have to leave, Alix. I don't know how to stop what is happening here. You'll be killed if you stay."

::You'll never find that with the brotherhood.. to them, she is at her best now.:: It was sad to admit- but true; madness was a enduring trait within the brotherhood; they'd do nothing to still it, or to help it. ::And I believe you. In the park, that was her- not this. don't worry, I understand this:: she nodded quietly, and looked around.

::I know..:: she nodded quietly- briefly; quietly- she fell back into a vague sort of nervousness. She'd been focusing on Pietro, so adament into discussion that her mind forgot the surroundings; however, she was reminded, and almost imediately pulled back into awareness of the fact that there was so much pain and fear that it was blinding.

"I cannot save this town." Pietro said, looking around at the destruction. "But I think I have a way to save my sister, and maybe myself in the process, though I will give my life for her if I have to." He wiped his hand on his black and once white uniform, and offered it to her, "And, if you trust me, I... I could help you maybe, take you some place safe. We could be at the tip of South American in twelve minutes, I suppose it would not delay me too terribly to take you to the outskirts of town or wherever you deem is safe."

He held his hand there, wondering if she was going to allow his aid, if she would be able to see past what he had become to what he truly was, as she had so expertly with his sister.

::outside town is fine.. if you could..:: She nodded silently- she would ask him to take her to where her brother and mother were; but.. that'd be unsafe for him. No telling who was watching the house there.

::thank you, Pietro. Your help.. it's as always appreciated.:: she nodded quietly, and placed her hand into his- without a second of thought. He'd helped both her and Rosie once- she had no doudt that he'd do it again.

Pietro smiled, and it was not something he did often, at least not around anyone who was not his sister. She spoke his name, in her own silent way of course, and it made him feel almost like anyone else in the world. He almost felt... worthy. He pulled her close, and said, "I'm sorry for the state I am in. The blood..." Lifting her in his arms as if she weighed nothing, he cradled her sideways, one arm under her knees, one supporting her back. "Put your arms around my neck and take a deep breath. My speed will rip the air from your lungs, at first. It is a disconcerting sensation, I am told."

::Blood is hardly something I notice:: she nodded, silently and took a breath while carefully putting her arms around his neck. ::Alright, I'm ready:: Just barely, she closed her eyes- not quite sure if she could take the blur that would become the world once he moved. Either way, her thanks was still extremely apparent- without his help, she could have faced a multitude of obsticals on the way.. and while she would have been able to manage them in some form or fashion.. it definetly was not something she wanted to do.

Pietro had carried her before, but honestly, he had carried only his sister willingly for the most part, the few times he'd moved others being during emergencies like in the park. It felt odd to have someone else in his arms, particularly another girl, and one barely into adulthood. He felt... strangely unsettled, though the truth was he was merely four years older than Alix. He just thought of himself as being alive so much longer, probably because every moment felt like a lifetime.

He did, then, what he always did when he was unsettled, and his emotions were pounding too violently against him. He ran.

The bloody streets meant nothing, the cracks in the road easily avoided, the debris, the people the fear and the pain frozen in stark relief against the blur of Pietro Maximoff's world. They were all too soon and yet not soon enough at the outskirts of the town, away from the battle. He set her down, steadying her in case the run was too much. His first run ever had nearly ruined him, especially since it had come to a halt at the body of his murdered mother, after all.

The speed had almost been relaxing- striking at first, of course, but still- the dull silence that had come from the speed was strangely welcoming. Even when they stopped, the whirl was affecting her, just barely making things quiet. They were back within moments; but.. those seconds had been calming. His support was needed since.. well, it was hard to steady herself at first, until things slowed. ::I'm alright.. thank you.. you.. you should get back.:: she nodded quietly, and stepped back, just lightly smiling. His perception on her age was hardly new to her- she looked alot younger, and seemed alot younger than she really was; perhaps a subconcious response from how she'd grown up. Both young and old, at the same time. Either way..

::and don't forget.. you're different from them. Better than them.::

"I am better than no one," Pietro said, "But I thank you for thinking so, Alix." He pushed his devil's horn cowlicks into something resembling respectablity. "God willing, we will see each other again. Go home and go home safely. I would not like to see you hurt. You are a rare thing."

And with that awkward compliment, he was gone in a silver blur, heading for his sister, a plan in his mind now.

And, something that had not been there in a long time.

Hope.
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Wanda
Reality Warping
The black chariot was fleeing from the flames lashing out from her giant self’s hands when the spirits of air were summoned against her, catching her off-guard; their gusting breaths blowing her high into the clouds. Wanda clung to the stick, her hands wrapped tightly around it, her knuckles turning white beneath the coating of blood. In the white mist of the clouds, Wanda sat up on the length of the broomstick and looked down. Below her feet lay the town of murders awash with blood, although white cloud cover shielded them from her view.

She felt the roiling hurricane of sensations reality in her mind. Never before had she let the chaos take her over as much as she had today. The faint sliver of rational-Wanda wandered through the darkness of her mind, looking for a door and finding only more chaos batting her off into a new direction.

However, the mind of the Scarlet Witch was burning for vengeance and she latched onto the first idea that occurred to her – stones from Heaven raining down upon the besieged town, killing friend and foe alike. She looked up and …

Unto her, there appeared - an Angel.

“Greetings” he called out as he came closer and then stopped, hovering in front of her “Nice day for a flight…or a broomstick ride. Except some people have an idea that hellfire and bloody torrents might be a better way to go.

Even when she had a firmer grasp of her reality, her hold over her magic was like trying to catch smoke in the bowl of a hat… it always seemed to leak through. The Witch’s subconscious filled in the details as Warren hovered closer.

Personally I’m more of sunshine and cool breeze kind of guy myself.”

In Wanda’s perception, the winged spirit approached, shining with the golden light of the sun and bringing a cooling breeze.

Around them, the sunlight dimmed as Wanda’s unintentional illusion coiled around them. Fist-size spheres began to orbit around them as though Wanda and Warren were the center of a mini-universe, two figures looking at each other: one bathed in sunlight and the other streaming scarlet and black, fanning out like a comet’s tail. Beyond the miniature planets was an Escher-esque version of Heaven, to one side of her a stairway in the clouds lead through mammoth arches, while overhead, below and around them ruined temples and spiritual carvings and statues cantered and tumbled weightlessly.

“I don’t think you want to fight as much as the others down there. How about you come with me?” he asked, extending a hand towards her.

The Angel stretched out his glowing golden hand to her but she recoiled in fear. Although her illusion made Warren more a part of the Heavenly Host and Wanda, an evil veiled in blood and darkness, it did not their eyes; Warren’s still a warm, stunning blue and Wanda’s confused and lost gaze peering out from a blood smeared face.

“No… the breath of the spirits blew me too far.” She explained. “You are an angel and I do not deserve forgiveness,” her already thick accent was choked with emotion.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Mystique
Unregistered

"Whoever's back there?! Take cover!"

For a split second Mystique wondered who the hell that voice belonged to. She knew she’d heard it before, and when she realized it was Alex that had come to bail her out, she hit the deck. Lying flat on the floor she covered her head with her hands just as Havok’s white-hot rings of plasma blasted through the room and hallway just above her head. The wall behind her blasted outward, but she wasn’t concerned with that in the least. Her attention rested on the soldiers between her and Havok and whether or not any of them had survived.

She slid her gun forward and aimed through the smoke before letting loose a spray of bullet fire that took that out of the guards that had heard Alex and dropped to the ground. Letting off the trigger she listened intently for any signs of life, and upon being greeted with none, Mystique slowly picked herself up off floor. Dust and debris covered her leather clothing and ballistics vest and she idly brushed a bit of the dirt away as she hefted up her weapons over her shoulder.

Before she had a chance to move out into the open another sound reached her ears…the low purr of a rather infamous jet. A slow smirk spread across her face as she glanced over her shoulder at the gaping hole in the wall behind her. So, the X-men had come to play.

Striding out into the main room where the bodies of the soldiers now lay burnt and charred nearly beyond recognition Mystique’s gaze sought out Havok. “Cyclops is here,” she said simply without a hint of concern for what that might mean to him. “Here is your opportunity to help your brother, to show him the error of his ways. Talk to him, get him to come with us. We can help him, Alex, you know we can.”

There was an edge of compassion to her voice but it was all a farce. She was playing with Havok’s easily shifted emotions and his undying need to see his brother as a hero while hating him at the same time. “We will wait here…I’m sure he will come to us.”

Reaching up, she pressed a finger to the transmitter in her ear. “Noxious, we need you on the second story. The plan has changed,” she said simply. They had previously discussed what that would mean, what Nox would do if she called him to her at some point during the battle. It would be his job to incapacitate Scott but more than that, it was the rest of the Brotherhood’s job to separate him from his team and she had told them to do just that should they hear her say exactly what she had just spoken.

Suddenly, their objective went from devastating the FOH, to devastating the X-men.

The next best thing in her books.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Havok
Member Avatar
Superheated Plasma Blasts
Havok stepped into the hall, as Mystique emptied her gun into the soldiers. He narrowed his eyes, unhappy that he had lead to their deaths, maybe even caused most of them. He'd been trying not to kill anyone, trying to make his way through this without damning himself but there was really no chance of that now was there.

Through the hole his blasts had caused in the wall, a jet, something amazingly high tech and black as ink, streaked past with a roar of ominous finality and he knew who it was before Mystique told him. He didn't know how he knew, and God, how he hoped he was wrong.

But she confirmed it, and reminded him of what he wanted, what he had asked her for.

“Cyclops is here,” she said simply without a hint of concern for what that might mean to him. “Here is your opportunity to help your brother, to show him the error of his ways. Talk to him, get him to come with us. We can help him, Alex, you know we can.”

"So..." His voice caught and he tried again, "So soon? I mean, I don't know what to say to him, I don't know how to make him listen to me. I'm... I'm the enemy to him." His eyes grew hard and he began to talk his own self into this. "And, that's it, huh? That's why I have to do this, here and now. So he can see firsthand what we are fighting against, what we are fighting for." He nodded to himself, convinced in his own easily misled way that he was right to be doing this.

It was to save his people. It was to save himself.

It was to save Scott, the hero brother who'd given everything to save him.

How could he do less?
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Noxious
Unregistered

Bathed in a dim, yellow-hued light, the utility elevator slowly climbed the shaft up to the fourth floor, emitting a monotone mechanical hum -- gears turning, pulleys working.

That was, until Havok's plasma blasts somehow fried and short-circuited a breaker on the main floor's security panel -- and, the elevator halted to an abrupt stop, relegated to absolute darkness other than the faint dim flicker of the security light straining for power.

The effect had an eerie, strobe-light effect on the outline of his frame, as Nox stood there ... and looked upwards, calmly lifting a brow.

Plans had changed, evidently.

Then, the faint crackle of the radio.

Mystique.

“Noxious, we need you on the second story. The plan has changed.”

A light smirk. And in between the intermittent flicker of light -- he up and vanished from the car.

All it took was a short trip through the elevator shaft, down a few heating ducts -- and Nox's invisible gaseous state made its way into the second floor, slowly and stealthily rematerializing just behind Mystique.

"Ye know, we ought tae stop doing this, lass," he murmured, voice the second cue to him being right there -- the first was the ubiquitous smell of a smouldering cigarette. "Dae I look like a call boy tae ye?"

He partly turned away before a brow lifted, smirking lightly, holding up his hand in a point as he glanced back to Mystique, speaking before she could respond. "Dun answer that," he said to her.

His back to her, as he surveyed the floor a bit, a calm look on his eyes despite all the chaos and calamity around them -- and he nodded, pointing off to a separated office and conference room at the end of the hall.

"There's prime real estate," he said, brow canted as he glanced over his shoulder to Mystique. "Single entrance, few windows ... maybe dear little brother can work tae be bait o' some kind."

Great minds think alike.

Of course, all this was outside of Havok's earshot -- words low, and merely murmurs.

The arrival of the X-Men didn't intimidate him -- in fact, he was prepared. Telepaths always liked to play the superiority game in someone's head, but Nox ... he had a secret weapon. A weapon none of them could trump.

Up it went -- and his mind was unreadable. Hidden away, as if Magneto slid that helmet over his head.

Intentions both ghostly ... and ghastly.

"Dun break a nail now," he cutely uttered to Mystique, keeping his sidearm drawn before dissipating into the ether once more -- but he had time before he took up his 'lie-in-wait' position.

Slowly, he materialized by Havok, hand resting at his shoulder, puffing at his cigarette, brows raised, taking in his words before nodding a bit.

"He's your brother, Alex ... he'll have tae listen," he said, gritty, raspy voice doing its best to sound soft and supportive, as a pat lightly weighted on Havok's shoulder. "Ye owe him this much. He just needs tae wise up, is all."

And before anything could really be said, he wasn't there -- up and vanished like a true spectre.

Say what you will -- he was good. Too good.

Where he was? Nobody could really tell -- but he'd be ready for his task when the time came to it.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Jayson
Member Avatar
Stone Touch / Super Strength
Rock-solid stared at shields the headmistress had erected around the sound mutant. The display of power astounded her so much she couldn't speak. Maybe one day she could be just as powerful. Maybe one day the gloves upon her hands would no longer be needed. Clinching a gloved hand into a fist Jayson turned and stared up the FOH building. Today, however, was no day to think of could be futures.

"Polaris, and Rock-Solid, you're with me. We'll take the right side of the compound. As Cyclops spoke greenish-brown eyes drew their attention away from the ravaged building to him. Whatever he said she would heed without question. The thing she understood the most was that this was no training mission. Whatever happened was real. The injuries received would not be imaginary. OK, the DR was real to some extent but you couldn't be too severely injured, you couldn't die. Here though, the battlefield, this wasn't an illusion. It wasn't generated to test abilities.

Taking a deep breath the stone-turner nodded. The risks were real life but it wasn't going to stop her from helping. The thing she disliked the most was to see others in pain. Within her power the stone turning mutant would help anyone who needed saving no matter the circumstances. So as she followed behind Cyclops into the building she knew she was ready for any...

Even blinking fast wouldn't cause the gruesome scene to disappear. It was all real. The bodies, their lives had been taken away. The blood soaked hallways looking just perfect in haunted mansions. Even the scent on the air caused her to breathe through her mouth or wish to. How could a person bring out such damage, such death? Weren't they all humans? But sadly, deep down Jayson knew how the world worked. Too types of people were in this battle: mutants and those who weren't. Even those trapped in the middle belonged to one of the two categories. ~There's no in-between.~

"Stay behind me. Polaris, as soon as we are in sight, disarm them. Rock-Solid, stone anyone who charges if you can. I'll take them down if I need to. Whoever they are fighting, be prepared. We're on double duty right now." A nod, for the moment was the only reply given. Another deep breath and Rock-solid turned to her boss, her team leader. "Aye," she said in almost complete calm. "I got it." If this was a DR session she would have laughed at Cyclops's wording. 'Stone anyone' would have been considered a joke but not today.

The time for mental preparation was up. Right now attackers would be the only thing to focus on. To be caught off guard would mean a trip to the infirmary or worse. Quietly, the stone-turner eased off her right glove. There would be no time for her to daintily remove it in battle. She had to be prepared for anything, to try to think of your opponent’s next move and to counter it. Coming to the next break in the hallway one last stray thought passed through Jayson’s mind. ~I'm glad Violey isn't here to see this,~ her mind said just as she stuffed the glove into the belt of her uniform.
[align=right]Posted Image[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Warren Worthington
Unregistered

JP between Wanda and Warren.


Warren looked around him in surprise as slowly the world as he saw it began to change. His eyes widened as a classical version of Heaven seemed to spring up in the air, both of them encased in a strange world. You’re got to be kidding me… Warren thought, it had been sometime since he’d been mistaken for a religious or spiritual symbol, but it never got any more comfortable. The woman in front of him was changing as red and black energy flying off her and while Warren knew this was the Witch’s powers, but it was still rather disconcerting. He frowned as she spoke, taking in her words.

“I’m not an angel, I’m a mutant like you.” He explained. ”My name is Warren, I’m an X-Man.” He hesitated a moment, he thought that maybe she wasn’t like most of the rest of the Brotherhood. She seemed confused and not entirely there, but there was a naivety there that contradicted the stereotypical image of a Brotherhood mutant. He tried to hold her gaze steadily as he spoke again.

“Everyone deserves forgiveness Wanda.” He told her. “We all have darkness in us and nearly everyone has done things we’re not proud of but the important is that we make the effort to change, to learn from our mistakes.” He said, not wanting to get into a philosophical debate while his friends were busy fighting off the Brotherhood below them but he was aware that he needed to make sure Wanda wasn’t a part of that battle. She was not a good enemy to have.

She slowly shook her head. There were no recriminations from him nor did he speak of her crimes but she knew what they were; no matter how well you cover your tracks, one person always knows the harm you've done.

He denied being an angel, but she knew he was wrong; she was lost and the glow of his presence was guiding her back to herself. She felt the rational-Wanda seeing the light and following it out of the darkness. She looked into his earnest eyes, "Do you believe in the freedom of choice?" She said and waited for his answer.

Warren raised his eyebrows at her question; she didn’t seem to have heard him when he explained that he wasn’t an angel. Or at least, she gave no sign of comprehending what he has said and the illusion remained around her. He suppressed a sigh and answered her question

“Yes I do. People should be able to choose their own path, but I also think that everyone is responsible for their choices, and the consequences.” Warren replied, not really sure where she was going with this but as long as she was talking, she was hopefully not doing anything to harm his team-mates.

“What about you Wanda? Do you believe you have a choice?” he asked her.

She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "Yes... You are right... The choices were mine. I chose to listen to the voices that whisper to me and do what I knew was wrong." Her eyes tingled and threatened to well with tears but she choked it back; she would not compound her crimes by selfishly weeping for herself.

Somewhere inside her mind a verdict was rendered. "There is no freedom without the freedom to pay the consequences." As she spoke the last sentence, she looked at Angel. Out from the centre of her eyes, a black mist poured, filling the sockets and making her blind.

The Heavenly illusion around them disappeared and Wanda dropped like a stone; her blood-soaked scarlet dress flapping around her as she plummeted through the clouds. Her broomstick snapping to pieces and tumbling away uselessly.

There was a strange quality to Wanda’s voice as she answered him. He could see she was clearly near to tears, and while he was sorry for upsetting her, he was relieved that he seemed to have reached her. At the same time, there was something final in her tone, as though she had made up her mind about something.

“Wanda….” He began and then stopped, a jolt of shock surging through him as her eyes began to change colour. Starting from the pupil, a black smoke like substance seemed to branch across the surface of her eyes until they were entirely black. At the same time, the illusion began to disappear. Warren had a really bad feeling about this. That thought had barely crossed his mind when the woman in front of him went limp and began to fall.

Warren lunged forwards, finger tips brushing the material of her dress, but ultimately closing on nothing. He swore as she plunged towards the ground and immediately set off in pursuit, his wings stream lining against his back as he shot downwards and parallel to her descent. Once he was below her, he change course as sharply as possible, coming up from below and slightly to the side to grab her. Their bodies collided in the air, but Warren was ready for the impact and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He swooped upwards, rearranging his grip on her so that one arm supported her back, while the other curved under her knees. He shifted his shoulder slightly so it was supporting her head.

“Wanda? Can you hear me?” he asked her, dipping his head so she could hopefully hear him over the sound of rushing wind..

The cold wind sliced through her as she fell, her only thoughts were of Pietro; her death would leave him alone. It appeared that she had been selfish again.

Her arms were crossed over her chest and pulled in, strangely like a flower closing its petals at the coming of night. "Yes... " In the darkness, Wanda trembled in fear, blindly search for the only source of solace she knew. "Pietro... Where is Pietro?" Her voice was weak and hollow as she called for her brother. Despite her resolve, clear tears etched a path through the blood on her face.

Pietro Warren thought, clicking that she meant her twin. He wasn’t overly familiar with the Brotherhood members, most of his information coming from the files he’d read but the children of Mangeto were pretty easy to remember.

“I don’t know. But I’m going to get you some help and then find him.” He told her, not sure that she was even aware of him any more. He tried to cradle her as gently as possible but he needed to keep a tight hold to keep her from slipping from his arms as he searched the ground below for an appropriate place to land. “Is there any way you can communicate with him?” he asked, thinking after a moment that such things might be beyond her right now.

He leaned shifted his grip on, moving his arm so he could wrap it around her and key his radio.

“Jean, Scarlet Witch is down, but she’s injured. I’m bringing her to the Blackbird.” Warren reported in, assuming that the red-haired telepath had taken up position within the ship. He moved his arm back to his previous position as he came into land. Thick soled boots splashed into the blood as he reconnected with the ground.

He looked down at Wanda, noticing the tears for the first time. Though she was technically the ‘enemy’ he wished he could do more to help her. “It’s okay, Wanda” he murmured as he made his way towards the Blackbird, her slight form still cradled in his arms. “Everything will be okay.”
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Lorna Dane
Unregistered

Lorna had watched tensely as the huge figure of Wanda had attacked the Blackbird with flames. She had remained staring out the window, barely aware of Warren leaving the plane and Storm clearing up the skies. Her attention remained on her sister…her possible sister, holding her breath without realising until the illusion disappeared. She hoped Wanda was okay, though she trusted that Warren would not hurt her.

As the Blackbird landed, Lorna unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up. Scott was using code-names completely now, no hint of the people they were inside of the uniforms and she was Polaris now, pulling on the mantle would help her deal with any complications that arose.

As the stepped out onto the ramp, one of the Brotherhood already waiting for them, the disconcerting beat making things decidedly unpleasant but this was soon beaten by the scene of complete chaos and carnage around them. Blood splashed around her boots as she stepped off the ramp, the stench of the gore that covered the town filling her nostrils. She watched as Mina dealt with Vibe, ready to step in if needs be. The blonde woman seemed to have it sorted though.

She turned her head, as Scott gave out the orders, green ponytail falling over her shoulder with her movement. She nodded to their leader, still feeling the distance their little chat had created but making sure it didn’t effect her participation in the team. She followed quickly after him, an eerie scene inside greeting them, flickering red lights illuminating bodies in the blood soaked corridors.

“Oh my God” she murmured softly as they passed some of the more gruesome looking bodies. Had Alex killed any of these people? Or Pietro? It was already clear that Wanda had. She felt vaguely sick at the thought the sweet woman who had woven flowers in her hair could cause this level of destruction.

She looked up grimly at the sound of gunshots ahead, green eyes focusing on the path ahead before turning to Scott as he laid out the plan. The was a faint crackle of energy in the air, a shimmer of her power signature and a shield was formed around the three of them. It would mean that no stray bullets could get in and accidentally harm any of them before she had a chance to disarm them.

“I’ve shielded all three of us. As long as we stay relatively close together, I’ll be able to keep us safe.” She explained quietly, knowing that Scott would already be aware of this but speaking mostly for Jayson’s benefit. Her shield worked as a general energy field, stopping most projectiles even if they weren’t ferrous. Adding a little more strength to the field, just in case, Lorna followed Scott down the corridor, wondering what they would find up ahead.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cyclops
Member Avatar
Punches from the Punch Dimension
JP The Summers Boys

Cyclops felt the magnetic shield that Polaris put up and nodded, "All right, we're moving." he told his team, softly. "Your field shouldn't hamper my optic beams, Polaris, but if I need you to drop it, be prepared. Rock-Solid, let me move first, but stick close. If you need me to cover you so you can do what you have to do, sing out."

Stepping forward, he looked up at some air conditioning vents half ripped out of the ceiling. Refected in the dull metal, he could see several figures, but he couldn't tell details. They were in the same color uniforms as far as he could tell, so he assumed they were FOH soldiers which meant they likely had guns. He called out to them, hopefully to appeal to their own need for preservation. "We aren't here to harm you! We're here to stop this attack on your compound. Drop your weapons before this escalates further. The people you are dealing with are murderers and they are far more powerful than your guns. We're trying to stop this so don't make it any worse."

His words were met with a volley of gunfire, thankfully repelled by Polaris's field. Setting his teeth, he fired himself, hitting the controls that would allow his beams to open at their widest, but most diffused. Calculating it perfectly, he bounced his softened beam off the a/c vent and into the soldier's with a concussion like a fist to the skull, and not much harder than that. They went down, and Cyclops moved forward, "Make their weapons useless," he ordered Polaris, "And, make this hall a statuary," he told Rock-Solid. He hated the idea of having to have her freeze them, but he couldn't have them able to come after them. By the time it wore off, they'd be out of here and things would be under control.

Havok walked down the hallway, not far from where Mystique and Noxious waited. The plan was simple and clear, nothing to worry about. Scott wouldn't be hurt, but he'd be taken down, and they'd take him somewhere to be helped. It was a good plan, and it was the right thing to do. He repeated that last bit to himself, reinforcing it in his troubled mind. Scott would thank him when he was free of Xavier's control. He'd see, he'd see.

The hallway ahead of him lit up red and his powers reacted to the energy of it. His brother's powers. God, he was there, right there, so close. Havok stopped, listening to Scott speak. His words, his speech, his voice, God, he sounded like their father, or as much as Havok remembered. Authoritarian, and in control. He was issuing orders, so there was a team with him. Scott... No, Cyclops, had to think of him as Cyclops. He was not Scott right now. He was brainwashed into being Cyclops, a mythical monster to crush the mutant race, yeah, that made things easier, didn't it. Cyclops had to be seperated from his team.

Havok stepped into Cyclops's sight and lifted one fist, firing into the ceiling above the enemy mutant's head, bringing it crashing down. He caught sight of Lorna's face as the debris fell and he closed his eyes in misery.

"Alex, NO!" Cyclops cried out, and he lept out of the way, as the roof came down blocking him from his team. Picking himself up, he spun around to the pile of the debris. Had his team been caught underneath it? "Polaris, Rock-Solid!" he shouted, for the minute ignoring his brother, "If you can hear me, I'm all right. Keep moving! Find another way around!"

Only then, did he turn around to face his brother. "Alex..." he said, cautiously.

"Havok, Cyclops." the black clad mutant said, his voice empty, "I'm Havok."

"Havok, then." Cyclops said, "Whatever you want, just let me talk to you. Please."

"Catch me first, Race Traitor!" Havok spat, and he turned and he ran.

Cyclops hesitated. Did Alex think this was some sort of game? Was it a trap? What the hell was going through his brother's messed up head? He ran though, knowing that he couldn't just let him get away, let him continue this pathway to self destruction. His black boots slipped in the blood on the tile floor but he kept going.

Rounding a corner, he found himself in a dead end, in the lobby of an office suite. Havok stood in the middle of it, back to a gaping hole that had been blasted in the side of the building. "Havok." Cyclops said, "This has to stop."
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Quicksilver
Member Avatar
Superspeed/ Superstrength
The Illusion faded first, and then, she fell. Pietro watched her fall from her perch in the treacherous sky. He cried out, and his speed increased, so fast now that he was nearly invisible to anyone who might try to see him. Something scooped her out of the sky, and they disappeared behind the debris.

He streaked like a comet through the blood strained streets, and came around, seeing everything in his preternaturally quick way. A jet unlike any other he'd ever seen, a winged being clutching his sister, chaos, carnage and death everywhere.

And Wanda, Wanda had done so much damage, so many horrible things. He swooped in, a hurricane behind him, before him, within him, blood, debris, soot and ash circling around him. He snatched her from the arms of the angel, not caring if the movement hurt him or his sister's captor. He held her close and heard her whisper his name. Streaking off a distance, not too far, so quickly it almost seemed like teleportation, Pietro crouched in the filth and the gore, holding her in his arms so she did not have to rest in the debris. Nevermind how filthy she already was, he didn't see it.

He only saw the black hollows of her eyes.

"My sister, my sister, what have you done?" He whispered, for he had no question in his mind that she had done this to herself. He could almost feel her powers lashing out at herself. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I allowed this to happen." He kissed her cheeks and her forehead and her lips, not minding the blood that covered her, or the tears. His own streaked his face.

He rose, turning to the Angel who stood nearby, everything having happened too quickly for much reaction. He knew, logically, that this was a mutant, like himself, but he was raised to believe in God. How must his sister have seen this man who stood before him, his white wings streaked with scarlet detris from a murder of more than the fleshly variety. "I am Pietro Django Maximoff, the son of Erik Magnus, and I am the Brotherhood terrorist known as Quicksilver. I..." He paused a moment, and took a deep breath, "I seek asylum for my sister and myself. I seek sanctuary as a citizen of Wundegore, Transia, and a member of the mutant race. We... surrender to your authority."
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Stretch
Unregistered

As utterly annoying as Stretch could be at times, there was no doubting the fact that he was in there like a dirty shirt -- whether it was a good idea or not.

That little voice inside most peoples' heads that told them when things were typically a bad idea? Colin's didn't seem to be as loud as that ... and his sense of tact didn't seem too wonderful, either.

Hence why he was the sort to blurt out the first thing that came to his mind, and as a result, wound up getting slapped around for the comments.

Sometimes, it just had to be said.

The pink mutant entered the main entrance with a slight swagger to his step, looking out from behind that mask of his, checking for any members of the Brotherhood.

Nothing. Just bodies about -- tons of them, too. Hell, he had to tiptoe through them all, just to get to the other end.

Maybe it affected him, deep down, but you'd never tell, judging by his words. "Shit ... I t'ink dis party just dropped dead, huh?" He remarked with a smirk, looking back to his teammates for a moment -- before he turned his head to look to a doorway, where a thundering set of footsteps sounded from the stairwell leading upstairs.

No doubt running from the disturbances upstairs, a series of heavily-armed guards spilled out into the main hallway, only to stand directly across from where Stretch stood in a ready stance.

His crimson-on-black eyes looked out to each of the guards, before their squad leader pointed to him, a look of fear in his eyes.

"It's one of the attacking mutants!" He cried out, signalling to each of his men. "Open fire!"

A blink from Colin, as he stood there in a quasi-disbelieving, disarming sort of way, a hint of a smile on his mutated features.

"Whoa-ho, wait up dere, rent-a-pig," he said in his generally flippant and casual tone, arms out at his side to show he didn't mean any harm. "I'm on your guys' side, okay? So let's just put down all d'guns 'n-"

But the appeal didn't matter much. One by one, they opened fire -- not just any fire, but automatic fire from sub-machine guns, riddling the pink-skinned mutant with bullets as he jerked in almost an epileptic fashion before he dropped to the floor -- limp, almost to the point of appearing lifeless.

Silence. Or, as much as there could be in this situation.

With their gun barrels still smoking, the guards looked over Colin's lifeless frame -- and the squad leader stepped closer, to check things out.

Unbeknownst to him, one by one ... the bullet wounds closed up -- and, suddenly, Stretch opened his eyes, greeting the fearful human with a wide grin.

"JESUS!" The guard yelled, before Colin sprung to his feet, ready in his stance as the armed human backed off -- and before they could reload and fire on him again, he launched into a dropkick before landing flat on his back.

The guards that weren't knocked down by the initial attack closed in on him, but with effortless strength and finesse, the pink-skin mutant perched on his head and massive hands, before spinning in a dizzying headspin, dropping those still standing before he fell back again.

A kip-up, and Stretch stood back on his feet, looking about to the groaning, aching, dispatched guards.

"Man, what'd I fuckin' tell ya, huh?" He said to them in his Jersey accent, brows furrowed in an almost incredulous manner, crouching down by them before shaking his head. "Next time, book d'graveyard shift, half-cop."
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Orbital
Unregistered

Just the sheer sight of what the Brotherhood did to the Friends of Humanity headquarters was enough to turn the most stoic of stomachs -- but Roy remained level-headed.

It wasn't easy to -- but, deep down, even though it was wrong, he convinced himself that these people ... these vindictive, shallow-minded individuals who hated mutants just for who they were ... deserved it.

Was it effective? Not really. No one deserved this kind of mass carnage -- not even the Friends of Humanity.

Oh, Roy hated them -- hated everything they stood for, and hated their inflexible idealogues for preaching nothing but pure hate speech. If it was up to him, they wouldn't exist.

But it wasn't -- and that was where he differed from members of The Brotherhood. Who was he to pass judgement? Where did he run the right in telling others what was the right and wrong way to believe?

How did that make him any different from those he hated?

Roy stayed back some, as support for the individuals leading the assault mission. Entering the lower floor, he watched each of his teammates -- most notably, Colin, as he was confronted by those guards.

"Open fire!"

The sight and sound of the gunfire caught Roy by surprise -- and his mouth hung open with surprise, brows lowering in an expression of disbelief and anger.

Concern, as Colin dropped back, seemingly lifeless -- but when he sprung back to life and into action, the gravity manipulator let his bristling hairs down.

A good thing, too -- the whole area around him seemed to quiver slightly with a change in gravitational pull, and a perfect circle on the floor around him was warped and cracked from the unintentional reaction of his abilities.

He was getting stronger. Much stronger.

Kohl eyes fell to Scott, brows furrowed as he headed up into the next hall -- and Roy kept tabs on him, climbing the flight of stairs into the second hall.

And there he saw it.

The Summers brothers ... talking. He knew they were family, just from their features -- it came with the territory of having so many brothers himself.

Then, he took off running -- unlike him. Nevertheless, it was Roy's duty to offer support -- and he followed.

Along the way, he spotted a few abandoned squad shields from fallen or fleeing guards of Bennett's private protectorate -- and, using his powers, picked up the intact ones, forming an orbiting shield of reinforced panels around his form as he continued through the hall.

A hand to his radio earpiece transmitter.

"Heads up, everyone, second floor!" He commanded into it, with all the presence of a leader. "Cyclops is up here with positive Brotherhood confrontation. We're gonna need backup."

Leave it to this responsible one to cause a bit of trouble to Mystique's 'Plan B'.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Warren Worthington
Unregistered

Warren frowned slightly, trying to pick up where the slightly strange noise he could currently hear was coming from. It was getting louder and then suddenly he caught a blue out of the corner of his eyes and something ripped Wanda from his arms. Warren jerked slightly at the sudden disappearance of the form in his arms, taking an involuntary step backwards.

The blur became a still form in a matter of seconds, showing Warren Quicksilver, covered in bloody splatters and ash. The man cradled his sister gently in his arms, speaking to her softly. He hoped that he managed to comfort her, and maybe persuade her to reverse whatever it was she’d done to herself. He didn’t think they were a threat to himself or Jean in the Blackbird but nevertheless Warren took a few steps towards them, ready to react if needs be.

What did happen was not what Warren expected or even could have predicted. Quicksilver asking for asylum was not how he had envisioned this ending. He stood very still for a moment, considering. It wasn’t exactly his area to allow others access to the school, especially those who had previously been enemies. And of course there was always the possibility that this was a ploy by Magneto, but he figured Jean could scan their minds for that. More than anything, Warren thought that there was something very genuine about Pietro’s words and he wanted to trust him. Besides, Magneto’s children defecting would be quite a blow to the Brotherhood, especially considering how powerful they both were.

“Of course. The Xavier Institute is open to any mutants who need help and a roof over their heads.” Warren said finally, smiling as he clapped a hand briefly on the other man’s shoulder, guiding him towards the Blackbird. “We’ll try and find a way to help your sister but I hope you understand that we’re not going to trust you straight off the bat, some people are openly going to dislike your presence in the Mansion. Both of you are going to have to earn trust and we’re going to have to hope that you won’t take advantage of the faith we’re placing in you.” Warren explained as they walked up the ramp, his tone holding a hint of warning, but he wasn’t doing it to mean or heavy handed, just to let Pietro know what kind of reception he could expect.

“Jean?” Warren called out as he entered the Blackbird. “We’ve got some new recruits.”
Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Create a free forum in seconds.
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · United States Archives · Next Topic »
Add Reply