| 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: |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| Late Arrival; Open | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Jan 2 2009, 04:35 PM (953 Views) | |
| Rage | Jan 2 2009, 04:35 PM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
Time: 1037am Date: 4 Jan 09 Everything, up until the light from the grounds showed on her face, was a blur. Kept under sedation and blindfolded for the better part of a week. Stops were made, but the dark haired girl couldn’t be sure how many. Or which stop they had separated her and Saint, not that Tina even knew she wasn’t coherent. Even when the drugs would start to wear off she only saw darkness before completely blacking out. But Rage did recall one part where she was propped up and asked questions by a man. She didn’t know the man or area. Even with being bleary from the sedatives she didn’t give them anything. She vaguely remembered at some point them trying to make a deal with her; surrender Magneto’s position and she’d be cleared of all charges. They must have taken Tina for a rat, offering her such a deal. Her reply to them was, “Burn in hell.” It was slowed and slurred but Rage believed the message had come across clear enough. They had kept her sedated lightly for the next few days in hopes they, whoever they were, could get something out of her. Maybe talk some sense into her. But after a while they got impatient and sent her to The Cage. As she was processed the sedatives were wearing off. The dark haired woman could only guess and assume what was being done. After all they kept her blindfolded until they attached a bracelet on her. The light was blinding but welcoming. A guard was talking to her, it sounded as though he rehearsed it. Most of what he said didn’t make much sense. Luckily she remembered which cell hers was when the guard showed her. One thing he did say before leaving her alone with the other inmates on the grounds was, “Inmate #164, Welcome home.” For a moment she stared at the light. Not knowing if it’s artificial or the sun, Rage didn’t care. Light was light. It was then she noticed her head was shaved. She thought, “That’s why it got colder, hmm.” Rage was almost fully drained of the sedatives. Some still lingered but it was enough to be aware of her surroundings. |
|
|
| Blackout | Jan 4 2009, 01:57 AM Post #2 |
|
Unregistered
|
Lucian had never really considered himself the romantic type. He had always been a fuck first ask questions later kind of guy, the one night stand and three-day weekend fling sort, throwing himself into encounters that invariably ended up with hangovers and spilled ashtrays and the stench of vomit clinging to clothes, and sometimes sepia stains which completely ruined the décor. Some mornings he would wake up half dazed, imagining he was still sixteen, when being imperfect was a fad and messy hair looked great, and that there was the honey drizzle of warm morning sun breaking through onto him and her, whoever she was. And he’d think god she smelt good, like strawberry ice-cream, cocoa pops and shower scum, and her three day old skinny-t with its faded, tinfoil silver logo would stink of teenage sex. Back then he would have murmured in that matchstick-limbed, bedroom-headed girl’s ear, feeding her tympanic cavity with poetry, he would adlib song lyrics and tell her how she looked gross in pink and that he liked it anyway, and she would smile in that groggy, cloudy way. From there it was only a few simple steps to heartbreak, because those shapes in the sheets were always prettier when broken. This morning he had woken to the sound of a female voice, jumbled and nonsensical and fluting, leftovers from another age. It had reminded him of those early hours when the world had been younger, and he’d gotten nostalgic, which was fucking annoying. Now he didn’t care. It was vaguely ironic, he noted, slowly rotating a wrist so that it creaked like a rusted hinge, that this new mouse, freshly shaven and ready for a scalpel, had arrived on a day that had begun with a voice that wasn’t his. Prisoners jeered and whistled at her… they always jeered and whistled at things with curves and eyelashes, although most of them were lapdogs to the prison system, since there were the ever present salvation squad patrolling the grounds like self-inaugurated choirboys too scared to get their dicks wet. He just watched her, this new thing, because watching was simple and didn’t involve making yourself look like you had the intellectual capacity of a sea slug. Having a front row seat to this hellish Théâtre de l'Absurde was more than entertaining, it was highly informative, especially when Lucian liked to be the welcoming comittee. “Hello,” eventually found her, bored and toneless, as if the depowered technopath hadn’t ever been planning on greeting this new novelty. That spiteful tongue worked behind his lips, sucking on his incisors, the tiniest little sneer settling on and around his mouth like it wasn’t really there, as though it was a mocking, cancerous nodule instead of an expression. Her lids looked heavy, pupils not quite focusing in the centre of those little chips of rock-candy red. Lucian wondered exactly how many sedatives they’d jacked her up with, whether or not they had really let the drugs wear off before shoving her into the lion’s den. You couldn’t really tell as much about someone when their synapses were firing off crooked with the aftershocks of sedation, and sometimes the drugs played tricks with the eyes, and ran circles through the mind. He liked it though, the way the new prisoners looked; nervous and drugged up and ashen faced. Oh, this wasn’t because she was female, this was an old game he liked to play with all the freshly hooked contestants; there was no such word as ‘discrimination’ in his vocabulary, since both genders looked exactly the same when they cracked. “Y’know,” he began, letting breath slide through his teeth in the space between one set of syllables and another; “There are a lot of things you’ll come to miss in here… steak with peppercorn sauce… the way sunset makes everything look like it’s covered in blood… bath so big you could drown in it… polluted city air… skin against skin and sweat…” he bit down on the ‘t’ off so that it cut off the word, resounding alone like it was the embodiment of his disdain, lilting his head a touch and leaning towards her. “But you know what I really miss? Listerine. Fuck. Do you know what I’d do for a mouthful of minty… fresh… violet liquid burning the inside of my cheeks out like its fucking nitric acid? Making my eyes sting? That’s right. After a year I can guarantee you’ll be begging for it.” His voice was low, soft and drained of emotion, and it resounded like silver being poured over steel, and not for one moment did it ever sound like he was talking about mouthwash. |
|
|
| Rage | Jan 4 2009, 02:07 PM Post #3 |
|
Unregistered
|
Her eyes slowly scanned for her team mate, hearing the whistles and jeers of other inmates. But she searched; she looked at as many faces as Rage could keep up with. But then a voice spoke it sounded as though he was toneless. She looked at him for a moment and remained quiet. Then he spoke again, his words merely breaths as she continued to speak she looked past him to look for Saint. That is until he leaned closer to her and said that most of all he missed Listerine. Rage lifted an eyebrow not knowing if he was serious or not. He sounded emotionless. The dark haired girl recalled how she was called emotionless. Perhaps it was his stay in the CAGE that made him that way, if he was made that way at all. She was always like that. In her own tone calm she said, “Perhaps you should have used something with more fluoride. Like Act.” Tina turned her head to see if she could spot Saint, and she was either having no luck or the sedatives were affecting her in a way she couldn’t see at that moment. Her mind began to wander, how long was this going to last? Magneto said it would possibly be months, but she had more faith than that. After all she was a soldier, Magneto’s soldier. To abandon all hope in their leader was inconceivable and unacceptable. |
|
|
| Blackout | Jan 8 2009, 02:13 PM Post #4 |
|
Unregistered
|
The mouse spoke, saying, “Perhaps you should have used something with more fluoride. Like Act,” forcing Lucian to suppress a soft laugh. Her quick wit was refreshing, at least. “Uhm…” he began, stormcloud greys sizing her up, too full of questions as though the world didn’t have the right answers; a dreadful curiosity, the kind that just wouldn’t relent. “Excuse me?” he finished, acting like he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, as if the drugs were mashing her brain cells into pate, since instilling confusion was the easiest way to dig his nails in. She glanced around, searching the spartan grounds as though waiting for her eyes to land on something familiar. “Are you expecting someone?” Luc asked, vaguely amused at the thought that she had some sort of pre-arranged appointment with one of the incarcerated. Maybe it was a lover she had left behind on the surface below. That idea was disgusting, but you know, in this day and age people did ridiculous things for that filthy ideal called love, even if it did make a mockery of society and what it had become. There were always a few air-headed idiots that tried to hold on to frayed romanticisms, because of things like hormones and the stories they were told as children. “Once you’ve been here for more than a few months you start counting heads, learning names. Tell me who you’re looking for. I might be able to help.” Now he was all pleasantries and guile, the viral smile spreading until it had infected more of his features, because apparently people tended to prefer a friendly face to something the devil had misplaced. Find whatever the individual is emotionally invested in and exploit it, or so someone clever had once said. |
|
|
| Rage | Jan 9 2009, 01:17 PM Post #5 |
|
Unregistered
|
“Uhm…Excuse me?” Rage lifted an eye brow; he acted as though she had spoken a different language. Giving him a quick glance to see if he was being serious or not. It seemed like he wasn’t joking. Tina didn’t feel like explaining herself. And she couldn’t spot Saint. Even if she did, she would have to approach him casually. Unsure if revealing that the two know each other, even in a mutant terrorist organization, might not be a good idea. He must have noticed that she was looking for someone. Then again she wasn’t really being inconspicuous. Rage did what she liked, never hiding what she did or was doing. When he asked her if she was looking for someone she smirked slightly. He offered his help, with his time at the prison he claimed he knew faces and names. The once dark haired girl’s smirk turned into a small smile as she continued to look at each face for her partner in crime. She turned her head to look at him and responded… “Well I heard the C.AG.E. was hell… I’m looking for the devil.” Specifically one who wielded psionic blades and could make you do anything he wanted, but the man that was speaking to her didn’t have to know that. The Rage Bringer may have been fresh meat to the other inmates, but she was a member of the Brotherhood, a soldier of Magneto’s, and on a mission to gain freedom for their kin. |
|
|
| Blackout | Jan 10 2009, 12:45 PM Post #6 |
|
Unregistered
|
Hell? Cute. So not only was the C.A.G.E. made up of rumours and horror stories, it had its own little set of mythologies to go along with the whispers and the supposition. Lucian didn’t think it was quite hell in this shithole, although it was definitely godforsaken and had a veritable smorgasbord of demonic occupants… in this place you could swing a cat and not even hit a soul. “Well there’s a nice little cliché,” Luc shot straight back, following her line of sight as she let her eyes float like driftwood across the grounds. If there was anyone she knew here, he could dangle it over her head and watch her feebly grab at the straws. Lucian slowly stalked around to her back as if he was circling prey, and he leant closer to her ear, still watching the orange ocean. He noticed several of the guards eyeballing the pair, since it was their job to make sure the kids didn’t play too rough... He flashed them a sickly leer and spoke while they sucked on their teeth and pulled their lips back into silent snarls, like the little dogs they were. “There’re several in here who’d probably like to claim they’re Satan incarnate… one who looks like he could pull it off too; red skin, horns, you know, the whole apocalyptic catholic deal… Personally, I always preferred the original version. Lucifer was the brightest star in the sky… the most loved angel. I guess that means beauty is evil. So… which do you want?” |
|
|
| Rage | Jan 14 2009, 01:02 PM Post #7 |
|
Unregistered
|
Her smirk had faded when he first spoke. He spoke of the different versions of the Satan, “…So… which do you want?” Rage felt the effects of the drugs wear off more and more. Seeing that the sun didn’t shine through, that it was merely fluorescent lighting that she saw. She was partially disappointed in that but didn’t show it on her face. The bulbs lightened her hazel eyes. The Rage Bringer was never a religious person. But she knew of Lucifer, the different versions, the stories. “Well Lucifer was an angel first. Perhaps all I need… is a Saint.” Maybe she had just given him too much information. If Kyle went by Saint at the C.A.G.E. then he might piece things together. Tina’s mind felt slow on the take, but at least she was able to realize it. There would be only a little while longer until the sedatives wore off completely. With all the precautions authorities took to make sure the ‘suspect’ was secure, she couldn’t recall eating or how many days had even passed. Days, hours, minutes; they all seemed to have melted together. It was pleasant to finally see the minutes go by. She directed her gaze back to the other inmates. Seeing in the distance a group of inmates were looking in her direction and pointing. Talking amongst themselves, God knows what about. |
|
|
| Blackout | Jan 16 2009, 12:29 PM Post #8 |
|
Unregistered
|
The dogs were circling, watching her hungrily, jowls slathering; god, the way they stalked and stared from miles away was so unbecoming. This week Luc liked to dive in headfirst without looking, just to see where the fall took him. By next week he might have changed, might have become like the dogs, but right now they were the equivalent of shit on his shoes. She had noticed them too; it was clear in the way she shifted, like something had slid under her skin. Maybe that was just him, though, he did that well… crawled under there and settled there like epidermal cancer. Dogs and vultures. The guards were just as bad, still eyeballing Lucian as he toyed with the girl; he shot another grin at them, running his tongue along the length of his index finger. One leant closer to another, jabbering something in his girlfriend’s ear and they both laughed, still watching the pair. No doubt something insurmountably clever about how Lucian and his new playmate were livestock. Ironic, seeing as the guards were the sheep in this facility… blindly following orders and sucking up the mass mutant hate hysteria as if it was ambrosial sustenance. “A saint, huh?” Lucian mused, thoughtful. Here there were a few of the wrongly accused strapped in chains, although most of the innocent became targets of the nasty fucks- like Luc … unless the girl scouts got hold of them beforehand… but there were certainly no saints incarcerated in the C.A.G.E., and she couldn’t be referring to any of the guards. Most of them were as unsavoury as those locked away on the opposite side of the bars, just retards with sticks and chips on their shoulders, and since none of them could get off this floating box without permission from higher ups, they were just as equally imprisoned as the inmates were. “So you’re who he was talking about,” he muttered low and grubbily, sounding intrigued, testing the waters. “You should warn him about giving secrets away, information here sells like crack.” |
|
|
| Saint | Jan 23 2009, 10:44 PM Post #9 |
![]()
Hypnosis / Psionic Bolts
|
For the last day, Saint had been out looking for his team-mate and fellow Supremacist Rage, or Tina as she may go by in prison. Whilst the guards knew of his code-name, Saint kept it all hushed up as he could. While Kyle Jones wasn't known, Saint had a reputation, even if it was small. Anyone who had been sent to CAGE within the last few months and had connections to the Brotherhood or X-Men would be bound to know him at some point. Despite the fact that being known as an Acolyte of Magneto would be bound to get him some standing amongst some of the more left wing groups, it wasn't worth all the attention this early on. Always keep a card up your sleeve till it came down to the final draw. However, he managed to get around the first day rather unnoticed without any hassle, but Saint knew that he would have to find Rage soon before they could start to plan anything to help get them out of the prison. However, finding her would be easier said than done. When everyone had their head shaved, some of the male inmates looked gender-neutral to be mistaken for female. In spite of this, he had kept looking, knowing that she would be in this demeaning and humiliating prison. If he had been powered, finding the girl would of been so much easier, with a few more people hypnotised to help find her and doors much easier to open when you could cut your own way through them, let alone using a key. But the nullifiers soon put paid to that idea. No matter how hard he tried, the blades would not appear. For the British Acolyte, it was like having a missing limb or having a piece of him torn out and never put back in. He felt like half a being, incomplete and he would not be good till he was back to being the fully formed mutant that he was. But not until he had liberated the rest of the mutants in the prison. Suddenly he spied the familar face on the other side of the prison and swiftly made his way across, slipping past fellow inmates to make it to his ally and the creepy yet handsome Luc. Walking up behind Luc, he gave Rage a sly wink. "Well, well what do we have here? Looks like someone needs to back off from the new girl and let someone else say hello. The names Kyle" he said, his voice filled with a sort of a welcome tone. Hopefully Rage would know what he was playing at. If they looked like they had a pre-existing relationship, then that may work against them. Fresh start, nothing would look bad at first. He held out a hand of welcome to the now shaven woman. |
| |
![]() |
|
| Rage | Jan 24 2009, 04:12 AM Post #10 |
|
Unregistered
|
The hazel eyed girl didn’t like being out in the open like she was. As the sedatives were fleeing her system she realized just how close he was to her. She didn’t like it but didn’t flinch away. As long as he didn’t touch her. It wasn’t like there was anything she could do about it if he did touch her. Tina just didn’t like strangers touching her, like she was their best friend. Lucian spoke in a low tone, not fully understanding the meaning of his words. He claimed to know who she was talking about, and information sold around the C.A.G.E. Tina stared beck into his eyes but before she could reply, another voice spoke out. Looking to see whose voice it was she stood still but smiled on the inside, it was Saint. He pretended like he didn’t know her and introduced himself as ‘Kyle’. Never before had Tina even asked what his real name was while the two were in the Brotherhood. To the hazel eyed girl he was a Saint. In so many ways. In a calm steady voice she replied back, “Tina.” She pretended to look around for the person that she was seeking to maintain appearances before speaking again. “Looks as though there aren’t any saints here.” She redirected her gaze back to the other two. |
|
|
| Blackout | Jan 24 2009, 07:06 PM Post #11 |
|
Unregistered
|
Abruptly the other new thing appeared out of thin air, sneaking up behind the technopath like a puff of smoke, as though he was shadowing the pair of conversing inmates. Luc stiffened in surprise, eyes jumping across, jerking to fixate the approaching Brit- all suspicious and questionable. For a second that monster slid, glaringly apparent, behind dusty pupils. For a second the mask slipped and there was only that burning insanity. It remained there only for the briefest of moments, slithering back into the depths without so much as a ruffle against the surface of Lucian’s composure. He had a fraction more self control than to let it fray through the calm… and besides, neither of these newlings knew the real Lucian Crane yet, and he didn’t really fancy the idea of showing them. Not now. Inside, there was never as much of a need to pretend to be something else, except when fresh meat arrived. He didn’t want to spoil it too soon, not when there was a chance of getting them all turned around and dizzy with confusion. All of a sudden she was no longer looking for a saint, apparently. Suspicious. The paranoia sludged through his chest, like a wet rag, conspiratorial and whispering oddities, like I expect a collection of birds, like the vivid keepsakes we hoarded on our mantelpiece… And somehow it echoed across the noisy courtyard, disembodied and haunting. Like a song- if songs had voices that spoke without form. “Looks as though there aren’t any saints here.” Luc frowned, tugging away from the female, still staring at Kyle. “No. Apparently not.” |
|
|
| Saint | Jan 29 2009, 11:33 PM Post #12 |
![]()
Hypnosis / Psionic Bolts
|
Only if Kyle had known more about Lucian, maybe he would of caught that brief instant where the truth of the man would be revealed, found out and caught before it vanished behind the technopaths facade. Yet the young acolyte did not know much about his fellow inmate, nor would he if he kept missing clues to the others around him. Yet so much was his disguised relief at finding his ally, a reminder of home, that he knew why he could rely on to help him, back him up for the mission, that the normally observant Saint missed out on it. As much as he hated to admit it, Kyle belonged in that prison, with the monsters of the world taken away to protect the weak humans, hiding behind their precious jails to hold his brothers and sisters. Like most of them, Kyle had killed, and he had done it with a smile on his face and a song in his heart, one of freedom and celebration. For every human that he killed, the dream that he had found came a heartbeat closer. While the people may claim that he was a evil man, to take so many lives and feel no remorse, Saint did not see it that way. What he saw was animals, running around and eating those who dared try to stand out of the mud and walk to that bright sun, to make a new world. Despite how people say that monsters were born and not raised, that was untrue. If all those years ago, he had been given a choice, Saint may of taken a different route in life, used his powers to help people, save humans and promote equality just like Xaviers precious X-Men. Or he could of still choosen his path down the road that led him to CAGE, one birthed in blood and one that would end in the same. But he would never look back and argue that he wasn't to blame for what he had done, that society and his parents had made him into what he was. For he walked in the valley of death and he knew no fear, cause he was an acolyte. He was Saint and he deserved what he had gotten. Even if he never managed to leave CAGE again, he was where he belonged in the eyes of the law. But justice rarely comes out fair and yet again, Kyle Trent was going to flout the laws. "Tina, nice name. Your American I take it? British meself, shipped over here from the UK. As far as I can tell, America isn't all its cracked up to be. You looking for a Saint? That like a religious thing, cause there is that one guy who has all the crosses on his skin, maybe he could help" Saint said, making himself sound a lot more stupid than he looked. No-one ever suspected the stupid people straight off, unless they had a truely crafty mind. Unfortunatly for Saint, some people in CAGE did. |
| |
![]() |
|
| Rage | Feb 17 2009, 07:26 PM Post #13 |
|
Unregistered
|
Luc pulled away from her, which was a small relief. Not that she showed the relief on her face but she never liked it when people got close to her or touched her as if they were her best friend. As the sedatives were mostly worn off, it never occurred to her that he would piece things together. Not to say he was an idiot, but her mind and thought process was dulled by the drugs. Tina nodded when Kyle asked if she was American. As he spoke of a man with crosses on his skin she couldn’t help but notice that she preferred Saint over Kyle, but playing dumb was necessary. “I may have to ask.” The rage bringer wanted to sit down, only for a little while until her head caught up with the rest of her. “If you two don’t mind I think for now I’m just going to sit down somewhere.” Her voice remained calm and flat. She walked off and the top of her head felt really cold, having hair on her scalp most of her life she didn’t like that her hair was shaved off. The hazel eyed girl would look for an empty table and once she found one she would sit and watch. Watch the other inmates, the guards, the grounds, just looking at it. |
|
|
| Blackout | Feb 18 2009, 11:21 AM Post #14 |
|
Unregistered
|
Pursing his lips, Luc watched her back as she slunk away to a nearby table, like she was perusing the stools at a pub… a little too relaxed, maybe, as though she was trying too hard. Well, that in of itself wasn’t anything to be too suspicious about, since everyone around here tried too hard. Tried too hard to appear nonchalant, tried too hard to be one of the badasses, tried too hard to kiss ass… tried too hard to look stupid; but here, right now, Lucian wasn’t about to let these things slide with a pat on the back and a jaunty smile like there was nothing going on. His mind nattered at him, quipping acerbically; buzzing at him like his skull was full of bees. This one… this Kyle… everything about him stank. Lucian wasn’t dumb, far from it; his IQ leant towards the two hundred mark, it was a pity that half of it got lost amongst the broken synapses of a mind that had been dragged through the mire of psychosis and sociopathy. But, and it wasn’t just this mouse… all of --or at least, most of-- these recent newcomers, they acted strangely. When new inmates came to the CAGE they usually did one of three things- sobbed and howled about their innocence, sat shivering in a corner pissing their pants, or attacked everything and everyone in sight. They didn’t saunter around apathetically like this was a goddamn whorehouse, and that’s exactly what was going on. “You want to fuck her?” Luc asked Saint, deadpan, still staring at the back of her shaved head. He’d probably rape her, given half the chance, but really, it wasn’t worth the time in solitary. “Unfortunately, you aren’t going to get laid in here, unless you like cock. I think Sally’s got an eye on you.” He nodded towards an unnaturally large, muscle bound, blue skinned inmate, whose flesh was covered in rough, calloused deposits of calcium; he was eyeballing the pair like they were slabs of prime beef. “Wouldn’t want to get my ass reamed by that,” Lucian mused, as though he was hinting at something, maybe threatening, although just enough to instil paranoia- the kind of head games he liked to play. Maybe he was just thinking out loud. Maybe he was insinuating. |
|
|
| Saint | Feb 25 2009, 11:35 PM Post #15 |
![]()
Hypnosis / Psionic Bolts
|
Unluckily for him, Saint failed to realise that his fellow inmate was far smarter than he could ever imagine and so saw straight through his games. Luc seemed to be friendly so far to him, giving warnings to him about Piotr before which may or may not have actual groundings in fact. After all, they were all in CAGE for a reason and so anybody there could be a secret pyschopath waiting to strike. For all of his life experience, Kyle was still young and the few remaining dredges of the feeling of youthful immortality that got brutally crushed out of the dreamers when they finally grew up where still burning bright. So while Kyle thought he was putting on quite an convincing performance, there was flaws to the performance that others could tell if they studied closely enough. Running a rough hand through his freshly shorn hair, the ends still soft under his touch when he ran them through the folicles, he gave the slighest edge of a smile when Tina replied and gave a quiet uttered fairwell when she walked off, leaving just himself and Blackout. As she walked away, Saint made a mental note to make sure that she knew that she was in charge if anything happened to him. As an Acolyte, it was his responsibilty to make sure his fellow Brotherhood members did not end up in harm, yet with only the trio of them in CAGE or heading there (as of yet, he had yet to see Cutter in the grounds), the success all depended on each of them playing a part, even if it was just a minor role. Suddenly, Lucians next question threw the young Brit off his train of thought with its frankness. "What?! No, I don't want to fuck her, she ain't my type" Saint stammered out quickly as he tried to react, his slight shock spilling out before he had a chance to react. The truth was that while Saint did find Rage attactive, and who wouldn't find the young woman alluring in some sort of way, he did not see his fellow brotherhood members that way. For an instant, Billy flashed into his mind, but Kyle pushed him down quickly. He couldn't afford to be distracted by external matters, no matter how cute they may be. The rest of what Luc said failed to inspire any confidence in Saint. Sure, Kyle embraced the fact of his open sexuality, but there was a time and a place for it. Thinking about how to get his end off when he should be focusing on building a better world wasn't the right attitude. However, as Kyles eyes flickered briefly at the large mutant who stared at them, another small batch of thoe doubts were seeded in his mind. "Your not the only one there mate" he said, giving a slightly nervous laugh under his breath, trying to regain his composure and finally succeding. For Saint may have been strong in other areas, but he was not a natural liar and it was painfully obvious. When he had his powers, it was so much easier, but in here he only had himself to rely on. Saint wished he had someone else wth him right then for some moral support but he had chosen to do this and so he would have to seee how it would all turn out. |
| |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · The C.A.G.E. · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2








7:21 PM Jul 11