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| Return of a King; HFC | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 21 2009, 03:07 AM (468 Views) | |
| Max_Coleridge | Jan 21 2009, 03:07 AM Post #1 |
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Darkforce Manipulation, Teleportation
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Date: Dec. 24 th Christmas Eve Time: Evening Without opening his eyelids, Max Coleridge looked around his room… his room, a place he hadn’t seen in over four months and occasionally wondered if he would ever see again. His body was his own again; he knew that what he’d seen and what he’d done would be a dark stain in his life that he would never fully recover from but for now, he pushed the dark thoughts aside, knowing that there would be hours of soul-racking brooding in his future, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief - he was home again. Apart from the sumptuous black silk sheets and minimalist furnishings, all wonderfully familiar, a clear pitcher of water, a bowl peaches, and the lithe form of his blonde Black Knight, were all something out of place in his room but not unwelcome. His right hand moved and even that slight movement sent a jolt of pain up through his arm. However, with the pain came more immediate memories, concerns more important than the self-indulgent ego messaging he’d been on the verge of a moment before; those months and their scars would be something he’d deal with on his own, whatever else he was, he was the Black King… he had obligations. Max clenched wounded hand and slowly, his pain stiffened fingers and bandaged hand complied, making a fist. “Longshot,” he said, his bass voice as calm and collected as it always was, “my trusted Knight, I would like to know everything that I should know, since I’ve been away.” |
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| Longshot | Jan 21 2009, 07:04 AM Post #2 |
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Probability, Psychometry, Cloned Origin, Empathic Charisma
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Longshot had spent much time at bedsides recently, Alix... Rawson... and now, more welcome than any other, his King, his king, home and himself, and though the odd little clone had love for the others, there was something more for Max. Even miserable, even injured, even shamed, Max would feel the light of the golden star that shone from his knight's eye, and from his heart. He had had faith, all this time, he had had his faith, and it had paid off. Perhaps that was the reason that Max had survived his ordeal, because Longshot had believed with the pure hope of a child, and the nature of his powers made things come true that Longshot believed. It was in many ways similar to the way the Scarlet Witch made her dreams reality. Telling, that. The two were so broken that they were continually innocent, childlike. It served them well in their own ways. Max stirred and spoke, and his knight was there at a heartbeat. He rested his odd shaped hand over Max's clenched fist, and though Longshot had no healing powers, the pain would ebb, and the injury would not be as serious as it first appeared. He pressed his forehead to the bandaged knuckles as he heard Max call him his trusted knight. "My king, I'm so happy you're back, so grateful for your safe return. Many things have happened in your absence." He told him then about Mystique's betrayal, about Erebus's coup. He told him about the exchange with the Brotherhood, and how he had been denied the opportunity to protect Alix. He vowed to make Sin pay for the cruel treatment of his savior, there in front of his king. He told him some stories gleaned from the White Court and the Black Court and the Pawns and the Guests of the Clubs. He spoke with great glee of Rawson's awakening in the medical facility and how he had thrown the doctors around. He even made up a few flights of fancy that were clearly the product of his imagination, but it was pretty much all the same for Longshot, fractured and confused, but optimistic always. After his long and almost breathless retelling of the days past, Longshot paused and said, "Oh, but I talk too much, and you're tired. My poor king. What can your knight do to ease your distress? Who shall I cut? Who's luck is about to turn?" |
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| Max_Coleridge | Jan 21 2009, 09:53 AM Post #3 |
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Darkforce Manipulation, Teleportation
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Longshot’s report rambled far and wide and though the pictures it painted were sometimes colored in by mental crayons that didn’t bother to stay into the lines, but the saving grace was that Longshot wouldn’t lie to him. Embellish? Yes. Get carried away on flights of fancy? Yes, that too. But not lie, not to his king. As Longshot spoke about Mystique, Max furrowed his eyebrows but remained silent. Later on, he would dissect her every word and gesture looking for signs of her duplicity. Actually, duplicity was wrong word; now, as always, Mystique’s only true loyalties were to herself. He’d known that from the first day but the allure of her shapeshifting abilities had been extremely tempting. Unfortunately, those talents came inside a very unpredictable and sometimes unpleasant package. Upon hearing how Maria had handled the problem, he nodded thoughtfully. At the mention of Alix, hearing the tones of desperate affection, if not love, in the young man’s voice, Max’s mind drifted back to what he could remember of the night before… of the slight girl with the black and white hair facing someone who obviously outmatched her. Max brooded as he heard more; it was a shame that Maria had used such coercive methods with her but he understood why. Maria was still young and he hadn’t had time yet to train her out of the harsh, blunt methods that had been used on her. He regretted what they had put Alix through, however it was Maria who had his deeper sympathies. “Alix saved my life too,” he said, letting emotion touch his voice in a way that he knew would please Longshot. “I won’t insult her by offering her mere things for the hardships she endured, but when you see her again, extend to her my appreciation for her sacrifices.” Max nodded as Longshot filled in the gaps of what had happened last night after fell unconscious. There was a long silent moment as the thoughts in his head shuffled and Max spoke again. “Longshot… you have the purple gem… don’t you,” it was less a question and more of a conclusion. For all his childish ways, he was a trained killer. Trained to assess threats and take action. It would more of that phenomenal if the powerful gem had fallen into the innocent hands of Longshot. Before the clone could agree or not, Max continued, tilting his face to give the semblance that his black orbs were fixed on the knight. “Keep it in your possession. Hide it among your other treasures,” he said, knowing that there would be no safer place for it. With a silent grunt, Max swung his legs out of bed. Idly, he flexed his injured hand. “I need to be seen,” he said and after the briefest pause, shifted his features slightly, to those of the fun-loving Max Coleridge. “I can’t have everyone thinking I’m dead.” He flashed a charming smile, “That would be bad for business, not to mention, my health. Be a good lad and ring for a couple of pawn, would you? I swear, they always rearrange my closet if I’m gone more than a week,” he joked. |
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| Maria Siegel | Jan 21 2009, 11:39 PM Post #4 |
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Unregistered
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Indecision and uncertainty were not issues that bothered Maria. Her programming had never allowed her to second guess her choices, instead encouraging fast, sure reactions based on the lightning fast assessment of a situation. Anything less would have serious consequences, the success or failure of the mission given to her and her handlers did not tolerate failure mercifully. It was why she made snap decisions that in this world of politics and intrigue, where the simple pull of a trigger could not serve as a final solutions, seemed rash and did not always turn out well. Giving Alix to Sin was one of them but to her it had seemed the only solution. She could not imagine the girl would have willingly offered her services to find the missing Black King. She paused outside the door of Max’s room, knowing he still lay inside, recovering from whatever is was that had happened to him, whatever the thing that had possessed him had done as well as the bullet she fired into his body to try and save him. He would heal of course, the wound had not hit anything vital, but not in the same way she would; the graze of the bullet on her cheek was little more than a light scar on white skin. She wished some of her own healing could somehow be transferred to Max in a scarce unpragmatic desire. Longshot had not left his side and it was a option Maria wished she had the liberty of taking but she had responsibilities now.... ones that she hoped would be greatly diminished with the return of the real leader of the Black Court. She was not meant for this world but neither would she give up her position to another. She would not let another betray Max the way Mystique had. Lifting a hand, Maria rested it on the door, palm first, as her pause outside the door lengthened. She could hear the low murmur of male voices on the other side, one deeper and more resonate than the other. Moving her hand down the door, she curled her fingers around the handle and pulled it own, slipping through the gap created and allowing the door to move to a controlled shut behind her. Longshot was by Max’s bed and the man himself was currently in the process of getting out of it. Maria was not one to apologise for her presence, perfectly assured that is this was not a good time, neither Max nor Longshot would hesitate to tell her so. The sight of Max, conscious and in his own room, made the rarest of all things blossom across her features; a genuine smile. Somehow.. they had got him back as she vowed would happen. “My King.” She greeted him as she came to stand next to Longshot, winking at the blonde, her usual languid nonchalance back in place now. “I hope you don’t mind... I did a little re-arranging of your Court while you were gone. Cut away some of the dead wood.” |
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| Longshot | Jan 22 2009, 04:00 AM Post #5 |
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Probability, Psychometry, Cloned Origin, Empathic Charisma
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Longshot was aware of his King's supposed blindness, and how he could indeed see in some way, so he never took notice of the pretense of lack of sight, or the compensations he made to look as if he saw normally when he was in his battle mode. It was just the way things were, and it was just the way things should be. None of his business after all. He offered to help the injured man up, smiling with adoration when Max offered his thanks to Alix, pleased beyond all pleasure that the man so clearly understood his savior's importance. He was a good man, in Longshot's very biased opinion, because, after all, good and evil were all subjective. Max was ruthless, Max was often cruel, Max was on occasion violent, but he treated those he trusted with respect and consideration, so that made him a white hat in the clone's rather skewed view of life. After all, Mojo was a bad guy and he had never treated him nicely, now had he? The King then asked about the gem, that Longshot had plucked from his downed master, and the clone's cheeks colored slightly. His mind was broken maybe, but he remembered the gem they had taken from the SHIELD helicarrier, and what it had done to poor Rawson. When he saw the purple gem the Shroud was holding, he had thought to himself that it was probably not the sort of thing that should be left rolling about. The gem spoke to him, whispered promises of manipulating space, wanted him to use it to exist in every location all at once. That held no interest to him. He could barely handle existing in one at a time. It had meant so little to him, actually, he had simply forgotten to tell Max about it and it was now in his collection, on a shelf with a child's shoe that told him about a trip to an amusement park, and the skull of a squirrel that had memories of being eaten by a crow. He was afraid that Max would be angry but he was clearly not, and it warmed his knights heart... both of his hearts, since there were redundancies built into the clone. "No one will ever know it is anything more than a pretty marble," Longshot promised, "Thank you for your trust in me." Erebus entered as Max was trying to get up and Longshot stiffened a little, not wanting his queen to spoil his time with Max, but when he looked her way, her smile was so genuine that Longshot, the soft hearted darling he was, could not begrudge her. She was happy to see the king, and she had vowed that she would bring him home. Longshot was not happy with how she did so, but the fact that her methods had had results was going to have to satisfy him. He straightened his spine and nodded to Max, "I'll fetch your favorite pawns," he said, "And, let you two talk for a bit." He gave a respectful half bow to the two, "My King, My Queen," and then he was sliding out into the hall. |
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| Belton I. Alerton | Jan 23 2009, 01:36 PM Post #6 |
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Unregistered
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Sin wasn't sure entirely how he felt about the return of the black king. There were good and bad parts to it. The good part was that with his presence the HFC would run immeasurably smoother, Longshot would be more controlled, and if nothing else he could stop diverting research time from one of his numerous pet projects he was developing. It had been almost a decade since the doctor had felt so inspired to do new, truly new, work and it was so hard what with him having to supervise the hounds at night, having to spend countless hours he could very well be spending in productive research trying to create a way to track someone down who very clearly was not in the mood to be tracked down. So it was nice to be able to get more done with what he considered his real work. Kill one of his pets, and Sin wouldn't even bat an eyelash, except to make another. Torment him, burn him, stab him, whatever and he would only laugh and enjoy the wonderful feeling of suffering coursing through his veins. His mind had long since blurred the line between pleasure, pain, and just feeling something. His work however, that was something he truly enjoyed more than anything else. Be it his research, his constant breakthroughs into new methods of creating killing machine's or his rather less scientific attempts to truly shatter the wills, psyches, resolve, spirit, and so forth of the truly unfortunate people whom he held in his custody. That was more pleasure than work really, but damn if he hadn't gotten good at it. However, on the negative side, Sin believed Max to be one of the more capable members of the Hellfire club, at least of his court. He was certainly one of the saner ones and smarter ones. Of everyone, he probably trusted Sin the least which was saying something. Of course, no one in their right minds who was a member of the hellfire club sleeps with anything less than one eye open, and the long lived ones sleep with both open but unlike most of the members who were there for profit and gain Sin's motivations were different. He was truly there for fun, and this was a similarity he shared with the clone who he now despised so much. Sin was there because really where else would he find both the funding, interest, and stomach to fund his work. Oh, he was independently wealthy to be sure. Curing cancer can net you a large sum of cash as long as you keep the supply low. The HFC had benefited from some of the man's work, sold some viral weapons, had a few high ranking members brought back from the brink of death. Sin hated that part. And Sin had access to resources and contacts he wouldn't otherwise have but ultimately Sin would vanish without fear if he felt that the relationship was no longer good for him. He passed the clone on the way, exchanges some "I hate you" looks with him as he went to do some errand for his master. Sin nodded at the knight, "Hello Longshot," he said, more to antagonize him than anything. This would come to a head soon, he believed, and was already working on a way to deal with it. He entered the king's room, giving a much more respectful nod to the man. He extended the same to the queen. Almost a bow, but not quite, "Hello King, queen," he said, "Shroud, you seem to be recuperating well, in my professional opinion," he said, allowing others to take it as a joke if they chose. Technically speaking, Sin did have a doctorate in medicine. And biology. And Neurology. And several other ologys, "If that hand is bothering you I could always make you a new one. Or a new body. I always find it so refreshing to get a new one," he said with a dry smirk. Of course, Max would probably never agree to this, primarily for the trust issues mentioned before but also because Sin wasn't sure his powers would transfer to a whole new body. It took Sin's a few hours to transfer. They were based in his nervous system and brain, so when he put his head on one of the various cloned bodies he made for himself it took some time for the power to spread through his nervous system hence why he liked to do it before he slept so as not to interfere. That was one of the areas he had been researching with fervor. Power grafting, for lack of a better term. It was... challenging and the challenge was thrilling him. "Glad to see that the Serum worked and that the telepath didn't try to fry your brain at any rate," he said, semi-truthfully. He was glad he was not targeted by the HFC for such catastrophic failure, if having no particular care for Max's well being. |
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| Max_Coleridge | Jan 25 2009, 10:52 PM Post #7 |
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Darkforce Manipulation, Teleportation
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Ah, Maria and Longshot, some things never change, Max thought as he saw the two eye with each other with a flicker of something that couldn’t qualify as friendship but was no longer blatant hostility. However, the friendly smile they shared showed that things between them had changed, if only slightly. With an uncharacteristically formal bow from the little clone, Longshot took the opportunity to leave the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Max slide off the bed and shrugged into a black dressing robe that hung on the knobs of a nearby wardrobe; his movements were slightly stiff but managed to flash a smile to mirror Maria’s. Finally free of the Shadow King, some nasty realizations were clicking into place; but at least he had this moment with… his… it was a struggle to classify her and settled for… family. Their beginning had been tumultuous; he hadn’t been certain he wanted the complication of someone in his life, the risk and weakness of letting anyone get too close, and thought that she probably felt the same way. But the smile surprised him, as well as the genuine feeling of warmth that radiated from her. “My King. I hope you don’t mind... I did a little re-arranging of your Court while you were gone. Cut away some of the dead wood.” She said nonchalantly, the smile still lingering on her lips. “So I’ve been informed,” he said evenly as a step or two closed the distance between them. “It’s reassuring to know that someone is here to look after things it my absence.” If he was playing a part, his praise would’ve been playful and overflowing, but the man he truly was didn’t give compliments very often and when he did, they were always understated, occasionally only a slight nod. This time though, his unwounded hand gently touched her arm and he leaned down, giving her cheek a platonic kiss. It was something he’d never done before and in all likelihood, would never do again but in the heady excitement of his return, it seemed the right thing to do. He turned his face to the door Longshot just left through. “He still calls you queen; being the Black Queen comes with strings attached,” he said in a low voice. “Are you sure you want to be tied down with the responsibilities? With my return, you could step down. It would be understandable,” his words saying, in a roundabout way, that he would understand if she wanted her freedom from the title once again. Even as he spoke quietly with Maria about being Black Queen, something else was working in the back of his mind. Shadow King had been a hedonist creature and his habitation left Max with more than just an extra few inches of fat built up around his stomach. Max’s stiff movements had nothing to do with physical injury; instead, it was to carefully cover the minute shakes of withdrawal, which was steadily raging through his system, another lingering reminder of the Shadow King that burned within him. The door opened and instead of pawns, Dr. Sin, the Black Bishop, strolled into the room. "Hello King, queen," he said, "Shroud, you seem to be recuperating well, in my professional opinion. If that hand is bothering you I could always make you a new one. Or a new body. I always find it so refreshing to get a new one," he said with a dry smirk. Max slipped easily back into the roll of the Black King, dropping his hand from Maria’s arm. “Thank you, Doctor,” he greeted Dr. Sin with a cordial smile while gears spun in the back of his mind; The remnants of drugs in my system would have shown up in tests done by the doctors when they treated my hand, he thought. Does Sin know? Knowing it would’ve been a weakness Sin would be more than happy to exploit. In moments, Max assessed the odds and danger level: his personal physician wouldn’t have told Sin but the good doctor wouldn’t have tried something as clumsy as trying to coerce his doctor; Max was certain Dr. Sin had much more devious methods at the tips of his fingers. In considering all the angles, another crossed his mind – did Maria know too? Would she have looked at his chart too? He slipped his hands into his pockets, “I’ll keep your expertise in mind if it’s still giving me trouble.” “Glad to see that the Serum worked and that the telepath didn’t try to fry your brain at any rate,” Dr. Sin said. Max would’ve bet the man regretted Longshot wasn’t in the room when he said that; it fit Dr. Sin’s sadistic nature to casually torment others, especially when he could do it with impunity. Max nodded slightly, as if considering Dr. Sin’s words. “Before you and Maria came, the girl was a guest of ours for a short time, but I understand you being reluctant to take the chance.” He gave Sin a pleasant grin, “I too am glad… that my well-being was such a high priority and my return is greeted so warmly,” he said, the words feeling oily in his mouth. From outside Max’s door came the incongruous sound of sleigh bells jingling and then continuing further down the hallway. Ah, yes, Christmas Eve, Max thought, stomping out the errand thought wondering if Forge’s companion for the evening has dressed in a theme outfit. Sometimes he truly hated his curious mind. “Longshot didn’t to mention if the White Queen erased Mystique’s knowledge of us,” he said to divert his attention from other things; it was only a minor detail but one that Longshot either didn’t know or had forgotten, and he addressed both Maria and Dr. Sin for the answer. |
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| Maria Siegel | Feb 3 2009, 01:49 PM Post #8 |
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Unregistered
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“So I’ve been informed,” he said evenly as a step or two closed the distance between them. “It’s reassuring to know that someone is here to look after things it my absence.” Maria tilted her head a little to maintain eye contact with Max as he stepped closer, being a good five or six inches taller than her and even the heels she wore, grudgingly sometimes, didn’t put much of a dent in than disparity. She knew him well enough to recognise the praise in his words, far more than the obvious, but empty, sentiments he piled on those who saw only the persona he assumed. “I hope the condition I returned it to you in is easily fixable.” She replied drily, a genuine apology hidden in those words. Beyond deposing Mystique, she had made no drastic decisions with the Black Court, choosing to simply let it run as best it could and trying to keep a steadying hand on it but her methods were rather more blunt and brutal then Max’s subtle manipulations. Even to her untrained eye she knew the Court was more fractured than when the Black King guided it. His hand lifted to touch her arm, while he bent his head to drop a kiss on her cheek and Maria couldn’t control the minute tensing of battle ready muscles, a half wild horse shying uncertainly from it’s master. It was the first such gesture he had made towards her and it troubled Maria that she had reacted, whoever subtly, so adversely to it. A gesture of tender affection was one that was as alien to her as pure violence was to most people. She trusted Max, as much as she capable of trust, but a few months his company, and more with the Club, could not shake the memories and instincts of a lifetime. It would be a long time before a hand raised towards her in affection wasn’t first one raised in violence and anger. If she had more emotional self awareness if would have been obvious that the Club, with it’s violent undercurrents, betrayals and schemes, was not the best place for her to learn how to be more than the weapon, to learn love, trust and respect. But in the end, it was more home to her than anywhere else had ever been Turning her head, dismissing these thoughts, she looked in the direction Longshot had disappeared as Max spoke briefly of him. “He still calls you queen; being the Black Queen comes with strings attached,” he said in a low voice. “Are you sure you want to be tied down with the responsibilities? With my return, you could step down. It would be understandable,” Maria watched the door for a moment longer. She hadn’t realised until this moment, until offered the chance to give it up, how much she actually wanted to retain her position. She paused for a moment before lifting her blue eyes to meet his entirely black ones, a hint of a nonchalant smile on her lips, more akin to the flippant visage she presented to others, a shrug lifting one shoulder. “I would like to stay in this position, for a while, at least, until you find someone else better suited.” Would he realise she was giving him an way out while at the same time professing her desire to stay? There were better choices for Queen after all, many better choices, but she could always learn. The door opened and Maria watched with a darkening expression as Sin entered, Max’s hand dropping from her arm as he assumed one of his masks. Her gaze switched to impassive as the Black Bishop began speaking, crossing her arms over her chest to help resist the urge to slam Sin’s head into the wall. She switched her attention to Max as he replied, taking in his stiff movements which spoke of more than just the injuries sustained during the fight. Reacting on instinct, with the subtlest of movements, she shifted her shoulders and her weight slightly so that she was more directly facing Sin, opening a position that effectively left her able to defend her King against the Bishop. The scientist was not so much of a threat through overly physical means than through other methods but this was how she dealt with dangers presented. Queen perhaps, in title, but she was a warrior a heart and would react to any threat, perceived or real, physical or not, with the ruthless grace of an assassin. Sin was useful, yes, for now, but Erebus would not let him become a danger. Already she considered his access to Max too free. Her actions with Mystique had demonstrated how she judge traitors and those that threatened her King should be dealt with. She wondered how long the effect of those actions would last. “Longshot didn’t to mention if the White Queen erased Mystique’s knowledge of us,” Maria gave little response to most of the chatter, remaining silent and alert, the brief comment about the girl drawing some of her attention. It was not something she recalled Longshot sharing with her. A slight frown creased her forehead as he mentioned the White Queen and she gave a discreet shake of her head. “No, the White Queen had left us for the X-Men by the point. We had no telepath around to wipe her mind. Everything that could be changed to outdate Mystique’s information was dealt with after she was gone.” |
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| Belton I. Alerton | Feb 8 2009, 02:12 PM Post #9 |
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Unregistered
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Belton found it ironic that both queens had defected at roughly the same time. In his youth the doctor had been somewhat misogynistic, believing women to be "weaker". After numerous experiments he had found that this was not the case, at least when it came to dealing with brutal torture. In some of his sociological tests, for example placing five people in a room for a month with a single loaf of bread between them, he had similarly found that they didn't seem any more or less capable of betrayal or murder than a man. It all just depended on the person. Ever the scientist, Belton corrected his views on women and so viewed the leaving of the two queens as nothing more than a coincidence, albeit an extremely unfortunate and aggravating one. He noted the queen's reaction to the touch, the kiss. Interesting. Had she perhaps had masters before who had made such affection an unpleasant memory? Sin knew precisely what men tended to do when they had power over a beautiful woman. Or was it just the opposite, that no one had ever touched her without intent to do harm? He knew Max was skilled in manipulating such people, those loveless puppies who just longed for affection but were truly incapable of showing it. Sin wondered how much of Max's actions were genuine and how many were just to keep his tight grip on his two broken toys of others. “No, the White Queen had left us for the X-Men by the point. We had no telepath around to wipe her mind. Everything that could be changed to outdate Mystique’s information was dealt with after she was gone.” "And of course I put the plants on alert for their smell should they try to get in manually. Emma can't mind control plants and I don't think Mistique's scent changes when she transforms. With the change in passwords, locations, and such any damage they could do to the club is minimal," Sin said. The HFC used his talents to make part of their security be seemingly harmless plants there for decoration. The effects of these plants when triggered varied. Some shot thorns, some emitted poisonous gas, some extended vines to trap their target but all of them seemed quite harmless. "Of course, we can hardly say the same for the damage we could do to them," he said, with malice in his voice. Oh did he ever want to be part of any revenge plot. It would be so smashingly fun, |
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| Longshot | Feb 8 2009, 11:57 PM Post #10 |
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Probability, Psychometry, Cloned Origin, Empathic Charisma
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A pair of pretty pawns entered, one male, one female as Max preferred, the male almost more delicate in the face than the female only the dominos over their eyes showing their station... also how Max preferred. "The Black Knight said you wish attending, My King?" said the woman, her voice lightly accented with exotic spices and desert sands. Neither of them looked at Dr. Sin, their loyalties with the Knight who promised them darker pleasures from his wicked knives and empathically enhanced charm. The Hellfire Club was a dangerous game and alliances were easily bought and sold. Each of the court had their chosen favorites that they were careful to keep happy lest they wake up with a knife in their back. Longshot kept his collection well cared for indeed. The fact that the clone did not rejoin those in the room was telling. He clearly knew that Sin was in the room, and out of respect for his master's health and comfort, he did not wish to start what would be quite a... disturbing situation. Not at this moment. So rather than go in and make a fuss, Longshot slumped in disgruntled pique, tapping his foot into the wall, staining the elegant baseboard and not at all concerned for it, his arms folded over his small framed chest, an ugly pout on his lips. When the king emerged, Longshot would be waiting for him, but he would not be anywhere near Dr. Sin. Not without blood being drawn... He didn't know whose blood it would be, but there would be blood, nevertheless. |
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| Max_Coleridge | Feb 10 2009, 07:08 PM Post #11 |
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Darkforce Manipulation, Teleportation
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Max noted the sudden change in Maria to his kiss but glossed over it without reaction or comment. Monsters and pain lurked in her depth, just beneath the calm, mirrored surface. But Max let the opportunity go, his own aches and pains and shredded ego were all he could manage at the moment. He nodded at the damage control Maria and Sin had done about Mystique but that news was quickly derailed by another revelation from Maria. “Emma?” The scowl flickered across his features and was gone. After a courtesy knock on the door, two pawns walked in, both beautiful and handsome and eager to please. “All distressing news,” he said, his voice laced with a faux indifference, “but nothing we can repair tonight. Tonight of all nights.” It was Christmas Eve and although the Hellfire Club Pleasure Palace indulged in every sin warned against by every holy book on the planet, even they never missed an occasion to celebrate. For tonight and tomorrow, the main lounge would be festooned with mistletoe, garland, and bells, garish and joy in red and gold. The only thing missing was jolly Christmas music, which had been banned, even by Forge. “I hope each of you will join me downstairs later for a nightcap,” he said, giving them their queue to depart. As unnerved as Maria had been by the show of affection, he wasn’t sure if she’d rejoin him or keep her distance for a little while, as a show of independence. However, he had no doubts about Sin, the only reason the strange little man would share a drink with him would be if he planned to poison it. It didn’t surprise him to see Longshot waiting for him. As much as Maria shied away from seeming dependant, the lithe clone craved it. “Longshot, would you care to join me downstairs. I need to show everyone that I am very much alive and well,” he made a dismissive gesture with his injured hand, “reasonably well.” “With the departure of Emma,” he commented casually as Longshot joined him, “I wonder whom Forge will choose to replace her.” |
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2:20 PM Jul 11