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Dust Storms; [All senior X-Men ]
Topic Started: Aug 31 2008, 08:22 AM (487 Views)
Jean
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
Time: 3pm
Date: August 29th




The screams of the men in the video sounded tinny from the speakers; nevertheless their agony was plain to hear. Jean grimaced and unconsciously shifted back in her chair as the blood began to flow. When she saw the battered face of a small child at the beginning of the video, she steeled herself for the inevitability of things only getting worse. They had. An older man with gray hair and a raggedly gray beard crawled out of frame, retching up blood as he crawled away. The sound persisting even after he was no longer visible. But it was the next man that really got to her. The harsh wind was sandblasting his skin from his body. The exposed nerves must have felt like they were on fire.

Through all her years as an X-Man, all the horrors her eyes saw and the black depths of crazed minds she peered into, she’d seen and felt things that made her stomach clinch and recoil in revulsion. What she saw on the video wasn’t as bad as it could get, but it was very close. The jumping picture as the camera was twitched by the winds, added a nausea-inducing Blair Witch quality to the video. However, when the sand form of a woman came into the picture, the supernatural was the last thing on Jean’s mind.

She pushed away what had happened to the men and watched the sandwoman with a scientist’s eye.

“Angel of Allah,” she whispered to herself as light from the computer monitor flickered on her face. On the screen, subtitles of her threat scrolled along the bottom. “I doubt it. Most likely some form of geokinesis.” She nodded to herself as she paused the video to consider. Her eyes flicked to the high number of views this little clip had gotten so far.

Jean closed her eyes and took a deep breath, sending her mental voice out to the senior X-Men. :: X-Men, we have a situation. Meet me in the War Room when you can get free. :: The video was several days old, there was no rush.

:: Scott :: She continued to her husband alone. She knew he preferred to use the time getting to the War Room to analyze the situation; otherwise, the gears of his mind would be spinning as he made his way to the meeting but not have anything to gnaw on. And to put it simply, he hated not knowing, not have as much information as he could.

:: Here’s the problem. :: She linked her mind with his, feeling him over the distance and an instantly relating what the video showed.
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Kurt Wagner
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Class had just dismissed when Kurt heard Jean's voice in his head. Kurt's last class today was fencing, an elective. He didn't have a lot of students, most of them took it because they thought it would be fun. He didn't have any of the hardcore devotees that Logan attracted to his self defense classes. Of course those were required, but Kurt had never had anyone approach him because they wanted to learn how to really use a sword. He knew why. Logan exuded an aura about him. Intimidating, yes but if you wanted to learn how to be dangerous he was the guy to learn from, not Kurt. Kurt was fine with this. He didn't want to be dangerous anyway. He could be if you were the wrong person but he was too kind to really be a ruthless soldier like some.

Still what power he had he would use to help the defenseless, so he responded almost immediately to Jean's call, just getting some things in order before vanishing to the war room. She had said there was no rush, but Kurt had not rushed. He was just very fast. He was unsurprised to be the first person there. It happened a lot unless Pietro was going to be at the meeting for some reason. Kurt appeared on the ceiling. He usually did this when he bamfed without a line of sight. No one was on the ceiling, so he didn't have to worry about bamfing into anyone. He usually didn't have to anyway. He seemed to have a subconscious ability to place himself out of danger as a part of his power but he had never tested the limits of this and he had not desire to. He just tried to be careful and not forget how dangerous his power could be. He imagined he probably wouldn't startle Jean very much. She was used to just about everything by now, teleporting mutants and all. Teleportation was not a very common power, but it was hardly unheard of.

"Why does everyone always take so long?" he said jokingly, dropping to the floor, "I get so tired of waiting sometimes, you know." The smile on his lips was dampened by what he had seen on the screen. He had seen the footage. Sadness filled his heart, mostly for the girl. She really had no idea what was happening to her. How could people abide such ignorance. What if her mutation was to catch fire at random intervals, or emit toxic chemicals. Kurt liked to assume the best in people, and he assumed that she was just a lost soul, trying to right a wrong she saw in the world and going about it in entirely the wrong way. He crossed himself at the sight, uttering a short prayer for both the men and the girl. May god watch over their souls, wherever the destination of them, and show the girl the wrongness of her actions. He knew that there was almost no Christianity there, but his faith told him that God would not be deterred in the least by this. God's mercy was for all.
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Warren Worthington
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The message from Jean still ringing in his mind, Warren dodged the ongoing flood of students, greeting a few who sent 'hellos' his way, his wings tucked tightly behind him so he didn't whack anyone in the face on his way towards the elevator that would take him to the sub-basement. Unfortunately he was swimming against the tide, as most of the students were spilling outside to enjoy the warmth of the late summer sun after being stuck inside with classes for the majority of the day.

Turning down the corridor towards the elevator, the crowd began to thin out, and Warren was able to walk more briskly, jabbing the button and pausing before the doors swiftly opened and he was able to step inside.

Jean hadn't been explicit about the nature of the mission, and her comment of "when you can get free" definitely suggested there was a certain lack of urgency about whatever the upcoming mission was but he knew that most of the Senior X-Men would mostly ignore that bit and get down to the War Room as quickly as possible. As the doors opened to reveal the sub-basement corridors, Warren strode towards his destination, blue eyes sweeping around the room as he entered. There were only two arrivals so far, Jean and Kurt, and Warren was a little surprised he had arrived before Scott but he assumed the X-Men's leader had probably been further away than Warren had.

"Hey Red, Kurt." He greeted them casually, with an easy smile. Moving forwards, he took a seat at the table, gaze latching onto the images on the screen, his expression turning grim and troubled. There was little point in asking what was going on, as it will all be explained soon, and so he simply waited patiently for everyone to arrive.
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Cyclops
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
Scott was where he was often these days--in the Hangar, buried in the bowels of the Phoenix Flight up to this elbows, as he worked to convert the telepathic control system into a manual one, so that he could replicate the dimensional rift generator that opened the portal to the Savage Land inside the Blackbird. He was planning, especially now that his knee was healed and things were getting back to normal here at the school, to finally make that trip back down to retrieve his Cessna. She was most likely not going to be in flight condition considering how long she was in the cold weather, and it was probably a better idea to just upgrade. After all she was over twenty years old and had been used when the Professor presented her to him as a gift for his twenty-first birthday, but he couldn't help but like the idea the challenge of making her air worthy. Unfortunately, he was dead certain that he was going to have to haul her out as cargo, and that meant that the Blackbird was going to have to be the craft of choice, rather than the Phoenix Flight, which comfortably only had room for no more than three or four passengers. As he paused to wipe trickle of sweat off his forehead, he thought to himself that if they took the Blackbird, even with needing the cargo hold for Kathy (wings removed of course) they could probably take about five or six with them, make it a survey. Avery definitely, for the botanical aspect, maybe Alex and Lorna would want to study the geophysics of the place, Warren...

His mental listmaking was interrupted by the call from his wife, and the fact that she was speaking telepathically, regardless of her 'take your time' attitude, meant that this was something she was concerned with, and her private commnique to him was a definite indicator that she expected this to be more than a simple retrieval. They had often assembled small teams to claim wayward mutants manifesting their powers in dangerous situations, but the information that Jean was sending him was not promising. This girl was not only in an unhealthy environment for her mental and physical health, but she was in a country who might not look kindly on American (or Canadian if they took Logan along) superpowers coming and claiming one of their own. This was going to take diplomacy...

Not Scott's strong point.

Even when he tried to be diplomatic and even handed, his natural authoritative nature made him seem like a general barking orders. He didn't mean for it to happen, but there it was. Scott = bossy disciplinarian soldier boy. No escaping it, no denying it.

He took a moment to remove his work coveralls, revealing the jeans and short sleeved black t-shirt he wore underneath, and scrubbed the grease from his hands, the sweat from his face before he went into the War Room. Because he was who he was, the fact that he was hard at work, exerting himself and pushing himself physically as well as mentally, didn't show in his expression, his posture. Perfectly put together, not so much as smelling of motor oil or hardwork, his hair as neat as if he had been sitting in his office all day doing nothing more strenuous than balancing a checkbook, he strode purposefully into the War Room.

He nodded to Warren and Kurt, knowing that they were both oh so pleased with themselves for beating him here, and turned to Jean, his face professional, but the wave of love at seeing her coursing through their link as it always did when they were together. Almost fifteen years since they met, and his heartbeat still quickened when he saw her. Sappy perhaps, sentimental, definitely. But he would have it no other way.

There was nothing in his voice to betray his emotions, however, because this was business and their jobs were to save the world... over and over again. "Has anyone reported that they were enroute yet, or is this it?"

This was not yet an official mission, not until Scott said it was. He wanted to know more before he called it.
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Ari Boyd
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Ari had let her class out ten minutes before it's slotted time, not feeling the need to draw out the lesson just to keep the kids there. She remembered what it was like to be a student, waiting on the edge of your seat for class to be over and the weekend to begin. Why torture them like that?

She'd taken her time to neaten up her desk, not wanting it to look like her room did and then made her way to the kitchen while the hallways were still relatively clear of kids. She grabbed herself a big cup, poured in a lot of ice and coffee, stirred in sugar and plopped in a straw. Yum cold coffee.

The brunette was walking toward her room when Jean's voice cut through her thoughts. The redhead's voice didn't sound terribly urgent, but Ari was no slacker when it came to school and as she was late when it came to everything else, she made sure to be prompt for X-Men duty. Ari stopped short and turned back the way she'd come.

When she arrived in the war room, she entered swiftly, her brown eyes flitting around the room at the inhabitants. Her stomach gave a little lurch at spotting the familiar blue of Kurt's fur and she smiled at him, moving to stand beside him. Her voice was serious though as she turned her attention to the screen in front of them, "Hey, what's going on?" She was still clutching her ice coffee when she took in the actions on the screen, her eyebrows knitting together as she watched the chaos on screen.

The sandstorm made her feel a pang for Diego. And she wondered it maybe...but the person materializing was a woman and the brief feeling of hope was instantly gone. Refocusing on the issue at hand, Ari gave a slight shake of her head. The woman believed herself to be a sort of messiah it seemed... She gasped softly, her hand moving to cover her mouth as she viewed the carnage they were playing, all the blood on the screen and the flesh-curdling screams making the hairs on her arm stand up. Instantly, Ari lost her appetite, her stomach twisting. She'd never been overly queasy, but this was horrible. A mutant menace, acting in the name of their God...

Ari didn't think it was a person's place to decide other people's punishments, to kill them for their wrongs and say it was in God's name. Clearly, the woman needed to be stopped whether she meant it for the greater good or not. And it was their job, as X-Men to do it. Instantly, her gaze flitted toward Scott, who looked as calculating as ever, and then to Jean, who would hopefully be able to give them more information than just the video feed. "Jeannie, do you know anything else about it?" she asked quietly, her face grim.
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Chamber(Old)
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Psionic Biokinesis / Telepathy
Well…the day had initially started on a bright note- full of promise and sunshine and other happy things such as the joyful laughter of children…… Jono, of course, had other things on his mind, and had broken that peaceful solicitude by revving his bike and sending it screaming full throttle out of the driveway in the general direction of New York City, on a mission to retrieve some new records to add to his mountainous Metal collection. The August sun was irritating- it made wearing a motorcycle helmet on top of a scarf unbearable, kind of like sweltering in a sauna made only for his head. He missed the dreary overcast grey that usually grumbled over the skies of England ninety percent of the year around. At least that had been predictable.

A few hours later and the Brit had returned with a pack full of records strapped to his back. Hurtling down the drive on his Yamaha R6 probably wasn’t the best of ideas, but it seemed that most of those who used the drive ignored the supposed speed limit. Besides, nearly everyone was in class at this time of day…there wasn’t a very high chance he would end up having to swerve to avoid someone…and regardless, even if it did come to that, most people here could either jump or fly or twirl or phase out of the way…

Once he pulled to a stop, slamming a boot into the kickstand, it would be that the very second Jono wrenched the helmet from his head and shook the sweat-dampened hair-shards away from his eyes that Jean’s request keened into his mind like a psionic paper aeroplane. For the briefest of moments he stalled, reminded of that same voice, that same resonation that had splintered past his defences so easily it had been like splitting wood…except now it was softer, and didn’t echo like some godforsaken demonic apparition. Several months had flitted on by since then, but the memory still jarred- still clung to the proverbial roof of his mouth and the recesses of his thoughts as if it were mental peanut butter. But that was just it, and it was a very brief moment. He’d had more than enough time to work past the gremlins it had left flaying at the cables… and besides; the moody biokinetic had plenty of other things to brood over. Like the fact everyone drove on the wrong side of the road over here. Insane Yanks. He’d almost crashed clean into a truck on the way back because of that- notwithstanding; he wasn’t in a great mood, and it wasn’t about to be made any better.

It didn’t take long to make his way to the Room; there might not have been any urgency to the telepath’s interjection but Chamber wasn’t one to hang around biting his thumb when there was a situation, pressing or not. He made it just in time to follow the rear of a coffee clasping Ari as she disappeared through the threshold.

::What’s happening lads?:: the Brit inquired offhandedly as he strolled past the door, but stopped in his tracks as the images scrawling across the television gave him his answer.

The nauseating scenes that enfolded upon the screen were shocking, to say the least; Chamber’s brows knitted as the pictures jerkily flared out into the room like snapshots from a horror movie…unable to tear his gaze away from the terrified faces all bathed in tones of red and brown, all granulated with grazing dust clouds and whirling particles that shaved the flesh from anything with a pulse. Anyone with a weak constitution would have likely been inspecting what he or she had eaten for lunch that afternoon…as it was, those gathered in the War Room were, unfortunately perhaps, somewhat desensitised. Ari seemed the most perturbed- digits drifting to occlude lips that had parted in disbelief…however; likely no one in the room was unmoved by what they were seeing, but beyond grim expressions and deepening frowns it was nearly impossible to tell.

::Lord…:: he muttered almost unintelligibly, before throwing a glance at Scott. Ultimately Summers would decide on the X-Men’s course of action, but there was an immediate surge of that inherent need to fix things which settled upon the Briton’s shoulders. Of course, if too much damage had already been done it probably wouldn’t matter when they acted. ::Do we know when this was filmed?::
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Skin
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In the garage where he spent most of his days recently, Angelo was laying on his back underneath a new car he had found recently and was fixing up. It was a blue 1977 Chevrolet Monte Carlo he found while walking by a nearby junkyard. Angelo was the type to know the value of a good car and after inspecting the inner workings such as the engine and motor, he saw it could still be put to use. Sure, there were small details that made the car look a bit bad but it was nothing he couldn't fix. So after hot wiring it, yes some skills are never forgotten, Angelo brought it to the mansion to fix up. It had consumed much of his time and now it was almost as if Angelo lived in the garage. There were a lot of cars already within the garage so it was difficult to find room for this one though Angelo managed. He began right away and using his skills as a mechanic, this car project was coming along nicely. He had given it a new coat of paint, changed the interior, rewired it, polished it, changed the tires and rims and almost anything else you could think of. Hows this for Pimp my Ride Xzibit?!

Angelo slid his body from underneath the car and stood up slowly with his head turned to the car. It was really coming along and after a few more touch ups, it was ready to be taken out to the streets. As Angelo searched through his toolbox for a certain screwdriver, suddenly a telepathic message came into his brain. It was Jean's voice telling all Senior X-Men to go to the War Room for something important though apparently it wasn't really a "rush over" kind of thing. It would be a good idea to head over as soon as possible though so the grey skinned mutant also known as Skin closed his toolbox and grabbed a wet towel that was on a nearby rack to remove all the grimmy stuff from the car and then grabbing a dry towel, he dried his skin. Setting his stuff back to the usual place he left them, Angelo Espinoza headed over to the war room. By now, most people were used to him so Angelo got plenty of hellos as he walked by the students. It was hard being a mutant who looks different but fortunately he found people who would accept him for who he was, with or without his curse.

The door to the war room opened and Angelo noted people already in there.

"Ya know I still can't get used to dat long distance telepath stuff. I always feel all funny afterwards" Angelo ammusingly stated as he walked in, "At least with Jono I'm seeing him in fron' of me. Sup, guys" a mild joke.

Looking ahead, he started seeing the video. He put his grey hands to his chin as the video proceeded. His eyes widened as the skin from the man was being ripped off by the sand used against him. There was a lot of blood and so much pain. These brought memories back to him when he was in Los Angeles. His dad was killed before him when he was little and being from East LA he saw the violence gangs committed. This also brought to mind Diego as he not only remembered the stories he told him of the crimes done (bloody and gory as well) and this sandwoman had powers similar to him though it seemed to Angelo that the sand was smaller than his missing friend's. "I don' think I wanna eat meat ever again..." Angelo quietly said as he witnessed the horrifying scene.

This whole situation was a bit disturbing but it was still somewhat familiar. There wasn't something that really made Skin's jaw drop as he had basically seen almost everything in his life in the mansion be it as a Gen X member or as an X-Men. It was also disturbing that these sorts of things occurred in countries like Afghanistan since he wondered how they would react to a young Muslim woman such as this sand person as a mutant. Would it be harsher? Or would it be less than here in the US? Questions began to rise as the video ended and Angelo basically stood silent as he clenched the Rosary around his neck and in his mind began a small prayer for all of those people who had lost their lives over there. Angelo may not have looked it but he was a strong Catholic who even went to Catholic School when he was younger, though he still ended up doing all the things his mother tried to prevent so he had faith in God, similar to Kurt though he didn't tend to really talk about it that much.

Raising his head, Angelo looked around the room and he leaned his body against a wall. "Ay caramba. So....what happens now?"
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Cyclops
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
Scott listened to the questions and the reactions of his team and watched the video replaying, as the wheels in his strategically minded head turned. He tapped the holographic map in the table, and the image of the girl's village, as well as the immediate surrounding desert formed with the slight shick shick sound of the imagers processing. "All right, well, this is what we know for sure. This footage is fairly recent. The events it shows are clearly not the first instance of this. The girl is a mutant, obviously, and no matter what her motives are for doing this, she has to be stopped. We know from our own teammate Quicksand, how devastating this power can be, and in the wrong hands... well, I don't have to tell you all the danger she can be." He paused for a moment and realized that his thoughts were less personal and more tactical, and so he took a deep breath and said, "And, she's obviously very young, very mislead, and very much in trouble. I believe it is up to us to find her, and offer her the proper instruction in control and responsibility that we all were so lucky to receive here."

Looking around at the others in the room, he said, "This is not going to be the standard 'Student Retrieval.' The girl apparently believes she is a tool of Allah, and is acting in His name. We are going to be going up against her faith, and her service of her god, in a country where religion and belief is not a matter of choice. We're going to be seen as a threat to her eternal soul, and what we are going to provide is what could be a crushing blow. To believe you are a prophet and then learn you are instead just a genetic anomaly and be taken from a place where you're worshiped, to another place halfway around the world where you're hated... it's going to be a difficulty she is going to have to face. I want a small sized team for this, but one that is going to be prepared to do this objectively and carefully. Diplomacy is not my strong suit as you all well know, but if this was just a diplomatic event we wouldn't be needed. Jean, I definitely need you on this for translation duty. Warren, Kurt, I think your skills will be valuable as well, but I want you to be prepared to deal with the complications that your individual appearances are going to bring here. I need just a couple more to come with us, and as for the rest of the team, I need you to stay here and keep the school running while we are gone. With X-Factor on their vacation, and the students and Jr. X-Men taking patrols in Mutant Town, I don't want to leave the school too incredibly understaffed."

He straightened his shoulders and said, "X-Men, suit up. We're about to tell a little girl, she's not a Goddess, but that she still as an opportunity to be a hero."
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Jean
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
Scott’s call to suit-up brought a close to the meeting and spurred the members to action more effectively than anything else.

:: Rahne, please forgive the intrusion but we’re in a hurry. :: She sent a message to wolfish girl, whom they’d known for years, :: We’re suiting up and leaving for a mission. Scott and I’ll tell Rosie we’re going on a trip for school business… going to see a possible new student. We won’t be home tonight and perhaps tomorrow. Please, stay in our suite tonight with Rosie. :: In the short mental message, Jean explained the rough details; things that she was sure Rosie would want clarified and would worry about all night. Next came Rosie’s goodbye, the mental message from both her and Scott to Rosie was short and more the equivalent of a mental hug than words, giving the impression that while it was important, it wasn’t going to dangerous and they would be back soon.

Jean got to her feet, ready to leave; she didn’t anticipate anyone asking any questions then, after all they had several hours to talk during flight over there.

“You’d be surprised, Scott,” she said, referring to his goddess comment, as pushed her chair under the table. “We like being appreciated but most of us are willing to stop short of being deified,” smiling at him playfully and left for the locker room, not accentuating the sway of her hips but, knowing where Scott’s eyes were looking, not doing anything to stop it either.

:: Worshipped by a small select number has always worked for me :: She sent the sensuous thought to her husband and taking a strange pleasure in the fact that, aside from their playful banter, they looked prim and proper and all business.
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Ari Boyd
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Ari was silent as Scott spoke, her eyes moving to look at the map he was gesturing to. So the footage was recent, but not the first instance of such an attack. It was sort of scary to think how many other people had been killed by this girl already, aside from those they'd witnessed on the screen. A complete bloodbath, all at the hands of one person. Ari wondered silently how the young woman could consider that as something good. Murder was murder after all.

And then they were moving, the team quickly on their way to get changed and head to a country that most, if not all of them, had never seen before. Aside from the political dissent in that country, Ari thought of the young woman who so blatantly believed she was doing what was right. A shiver crawled up the brunette's spine as the images she'd just seen replayed through her mind. The X-Men would bring her back, but in what state? And at what cost? Would she understand that they weren't trying to hurt her, even with Jean translating? Like Scott had said, this would shake the girl's world to the core. Everything she knew, or thought she knew, would be different. In a way, Ari couldn't help but feel sympathy for the stranger. But there was no time to waste. Not while people were dying left and right.

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