| 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: |
| Breakout; Brotherhood and CAGE inmates | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Jul 25 2009, 01:32 AM (3,446 Views) | |
| Saint | Sep 8 2009, 06:11 PM Post #61 |
![]()
Hypnosis / Psionic Bolts
|
The guards were killed, the team-mate alive but Kyle knew that their job was far from over. First he had to get Mystique and try and keep alive till they had their escape firmly behind them. Even now, he knew that there was still trouble coming. Even after the sword-wielding assassins and the guards, the youngest Acolyte knew that the human scum that was imprisoning them would not give up their prey turned predator without a fight. Three ninja acrobats wouldn't be enough, so he knew there would be more. Always in life people had fail safes, sometimes actually installed in the people. Thinking that they could escape now was just wishful thinking. And like he knew regretfully, the British mutant turned out to be right. "Fuck" he muttered, growing more fond of the words usage with each utterance. He didn't even know what it was, or could hazard a guess. All he could think of was this old film he had seen, an anime whose name escaped his head in the panic. But what he did remember was one scene in particular. One of the characters was turning into a giant blob creature and he was growing so fast that his poor girlfriend got caught in his growths. The body swelling so much, she got trapped in the folds and squeezed so hard. She had exploded like a nat, popping like a ripe juicy berry, her organs, bones and skin gone in a mash of red. And Saint did not desire to be popped. Almost instinctively, Rage pushed him and her into a small room, what looked like a store cupboard and the two held the door as the vine like monstrosity outside tried to break in. Whilst he held the door, Kyle's eyes scanned the room, but seeing only walls, his heart sank. They should of run, fled down the corridor. Maybe they could of escaped it for long enough or found someway to fight back but no, they were trapped, like rats in a pit while faced with a snake, that sought to devour them, swallowing them whole. Only faster and probably more painful. Outside the door, a large scream was heard as an fleeing prisoner fell prey to the vines, assimilated into the being in only a few seconds. A nightmarish death for those it befell. And if the two Brotherhood members were not lucky, it would happen to them as well. The falling was sudden but like a lift, Kyle felt it coming, knowing that its fall to earth was being cushioned somewhat, as a jarring crash was replaced by a more sudden grinding collision with the earth, shaking the room and the door almost coming lose, the vines struggling to gain a purchase to reach in and grab the inhabitants. Suddenly Kyle realised that if they needed to get out, they needed to find a way. And if there was no door, well, they would just have to make one. "Rage, I need you to get me angry" Kyle muttered, his body racking with pain with every slam of the door. The female mutant nodded, her eyes turning red and in turn Saint's blurring purple, growing stronger as the rage inside him grew. As he focused, Kyle breathed deep and stepped away from the door, knowing that if he couldn't handle the anger long enough, it probably wouldn't work. Feeling the powerful emotion burn through his body, Kyle focused it. Anger was like water, and a tidal wave could devastate a city or a country. But channeled correctly, it could be used to power that city, keeping it running. Kyle focused his mind, breathing deeply for the few seconds, feeling it build to breaking point. There was a thin line between focused anger, sharpened and narrow but it could snap, like a rubber band stretched to far. Kyles eyes blinked and a bright purple glow emerged from his hand, ignoring the freely bleeding wound and grunting back the pain as his shoulder screamed in a fiery resistance. Throwing a large circle with his arms, a torrent of tiny shards flew out of his hands, slamming through the steel wall, cutting through the thick metal as he aimed at the wall. Slamming forwards with his body, Kyle barreled into the wall, the circular exit now giving way behind the sheer brute force. Falling into a corridor, he saw the bright light of day at the end of the hallway, the broken down wall now a sweet testement to freedom. "RAGE! WE ARE GOING!" Kyle screamed at the shaven headed woman, as he lunged at her trying to drag her through the hole and to the empty freedom, away from the fate that others were succumbing to, his adreniline fueled by the pulsating anger that pounded through his body. |
| |
![]() |
|
| Zeitgeist | Sep 9 2009, 01:30 AM Post #62 |
|
Axel Cluney
|
JP BETWEEN ZEITGEIST AND PIOTR Folds of steel suddenly began parting amidst the sea of chaos that had erupted around the trashed generator. Piotr Rasputin shoved his head out of the depths of the wreckage, looking around for any friendly faces he could find… the large room was beginning to grow more and more full with each passing moment. Guards… mutants in their original forms… and dark green plant-like tendrils seeped into doorways, sliding across the walls at a speed that no plant should travel at. Piotr’s brow furrowed as he gritted his teeth and shoved the metal pinning him aside as if it were cardboard. He rolled out and landed on his feet, paying the random faces no mind as they held no concern for him; he only cared for a few people’s well-being – Tina… Kyle… Mystique… Axel… Mikhail… and a few others from the Sayans. He scanned the crowd, starting to panic at the idea that they were dying or even dead. And what was with the loud crunching sound and why was everything slightly off level? Had they suddenly landed? A green tendril wrapped itself around Colossus’ muscled arm, yanking the man out of his deep reverie; he glanced at the plant, shocked by the strength with which this thing was trying to lift him off the ground. He clutched it in his free metallic fist just above his captured arm and ripped the tendril off with one quick motion… like ripping off a band aid. He yanked the refuse from off his arm and tossed it aside, bellowing out the names of those he cared about as he drove himself through the crowd. Sometimes those in his way were wrenched out from in front of him, ripped away from the tendrils growing in thickness, pulling them toward the ceiling that was nearly covered in foliage. Colossus shuddered to think of what happened to those who did not manage to escape the thing’s grasp. He also couldn’t help but notice that at the rate the thing was growing, the entire room would be completely consumed in no time; finding the others suddenly became that much more urgent. A sudden lurch from the ship rocked him to the side as the screaming of protesting metal reverberated through the hull. The unexpected movement caused Piotr to crash into the side of a wall, where he almost immediately uprighted himself, a light going off in his head – Magneto had crashed the ship and was tearing the thing apart. Colossus rolled around the corner and stumbled down the hall as another series of shudders rocked the CAGE. “Axel,” he called out in hopes that maybe they had found a passage way out. However, his hope was mixed with horror at the sight of vines covering the ceiling and sliding down the walls; Piotr could have sworn he’d seen an eyeball amongst all the green attached to the ceiling. “Tina!” He started to turn away when he spotted a body amongst the others strewn down the hall… one he actually recognized. “Axel,” he shouted as he made a beeline for his fellow Sayan, steel crashing against gunmetal with every footstep. Axel's breathing had become more shallowed and ragged. He closed his eyes for a few moments. He had to hold on for a little while longer. As he coughed, droplets of blood splattered out. The Sayan was in agony, but hardly had the energy to scream and cry out. Suddenly he heard his name being called out. He opened his eyes but kept them fixated at the ceiling. In a low, weak voice he spoke, “Pete?” Zeitgeist stayed laying where Sack dropped him, in too much pain and still bleeding from the thirteen stab wounds. Reaching the smaller man, Colossus dropped to his knees, “Da.” He looked him up and down, searching for the source of all that blood, “We must leave. I think staying in here would be very bad.” He locked gazes with his fellow prisoner, “Can you get up?” He swallowed and gave a small cough. Blinking rapidly he wasn't sure if he fully understood what his fellow Sayan had said. “I... I don't know Pete. I don't feel too hot. I smelled air...” He tried to move. But groaned with every movement. Piotr shook his head, “Smelled air? This is not a time for your American jokes, Axel.” He looked up at the walls, the plants were growing thicker as the tendrils continued to slide down the walls. At this rate they had very little time. “Axel, how bad is it? Was it these plants? What happened? I need to know how stable you are, comrade.” Axel gave a small pained chuckle. “Fresh air, comrade. I was so close. Few more steps.” He took a jagged breath in. “Should have just walked away. Would have been fine, but he kept jabbing. My fucking temper, man... I think this time Sack wanted to make sure I would stay down.” Coughing out more blood his shallow breathing accompanied his tone, “I could try walking. I don't know though man...” He reached his arm out trying to suppress the sheer pain of it all to point off elsewhere. “Fresh, free, air.” Brow furrowed in anger and confusion, Colossus cocked his head to the side, “Was so close? You do not mean that you are giving up and dying?” He shook his head even more violently this time, sliding his hands underneath his fellow Sayan and picking him up. “I will not allow you to give up after so much time in captivity. You must come with me to the mansion… stay alive long enough for McCoy to help you. That man can heal anything.” With Axel in his arms, he turned and began heading back down the hallway in the same direction he’d come. The man needed medical attention as soon as possible… perhaps Magneto had someone with him; if that were the case, Piotr would tear a straight line through the entire facility until he reached freedom. “You will breathe free air, comrade.” Zeitgeist groaned as his friend picked him up. “Thirteen stab wounds, man. Never heard anyone livin though that. That McCoy, must be one hell of a doc.” Blood gushed down from the wounds and trickled onto his friend. “You're my best friend... and I really wanted to go to that mansion with you. Start new. I'm sorry man, sorry that I'm a temperamental asshole. If I wasn't, then I could walk outta here myself.” Each of the Russians' movements felt like another jab, he held in the groans and cries of pain. He had to wait, just a little while longer. A few more moments. “Just hang on a little longer, Axel,” Piotr said, ignoring the damning words from his friend’s lips as he picked up speed, absorbing as much of the shock of each step with his arms. As he picked up speed, he lowered his shoulder for a linebacker-style run… not even paying attention as guards and prisoners alike dove out of his way. One – likely someone with superhuman durability or strength – who thought it would be funny to stand in his way bounced off the Russian like a brick hitting a battleship… and then he crashed into the wall, giving it an extra shove with his shoulder as he made contact. The steel gave way into another room, and as Colossus stumbled through the makeshift hole – huddled over his friend – he found that half the room was missing, sand covering most of the floor as wind whipped over his metal form. Scores of people were already outside, running away from tentacles, flying metal… and whatever the hell else they could. “Free air,” Colossus muttered as he looked down at Axel, and advanced for the outside. In a weak voice he responded to his friend, “Seriously?” He breathed in the air, yeah, it was different. Sweeter, hotter, real, fresh air. In the same voice he spoke again, “When we get outside, set me down Piotr... I wanna feel the ground, dirt or concrete I don't care.” It was close, he could feel it. Not the area outside but his final breath. He waited as long as he could, but he was just too tired. Nodding, Piotr continued as people rushed from behind him, making a break for freedom, “Da… but only for a moment. We need to find you help.” Concerns were racing through his mind… what if Magneto had no one to attend to him? What if he died before they could get him anywhere stable? Would daylight fall on the Sayan for the first time in years just as his eyes faded? And then they were out of the gaping opening and into the open desert; Piotr’s body gleamed in the sun’s rays as he trudged on. He shook his head, “Nyet. You can feel the ground after you have been seen to. It is foolishness to do otherwise.” As he spoke, he looked around for any sign of the Brotherhood, batting aside a large chunk of plate steel that had come hurling toward his head. Tina? Mystique? Kyle? He could find none of them. But he did catch the sight of someone who could help more than any of the others… Magneto. His far-off silhouette was unmistakable. “Come… we will get help,” Piotr said as he set off in a run toward the Master of Magnetism.” “Please...” There was no recovery, he knew that. His lungs filled with blood, his organs and bones screamed such pain to him. Thirteen, what a fucking unlucky number. “Please comrade...” Piotr stopped where he stood and looked Axel in the eyes, seeing the truth in them. He was fooling himself to think that the smaller man would actually make it… he was so pale… and the blood. Colossus dropped to his knees, “Very well.” He laid Axel on the soft, warm sand, “It is not a cell floor, or a government cot, my friend.” He smiled and felt the warm sand, the hot sun. He was freezing, but the sun made it so much more bearable. “Thank you.” Giving a gurgling cough he tried to swallow but it was with great difficulty. “Piotr... I could always count on you..” To remember my name. “I'm sorry..” That I'm such a hot headed idiot. With a small smile he finished, “Remember that girl I told you about?” He coughed and gave a gasping breath. “The one I was... with when my powers came up? … Haunts my dreams...” His heart slowed, and his breathing became more shallow. “Keeps me up at night? Whose name I couldn't... remember?” Staring up at the sun, and hand clutching a fist full of the sand Zeit's heart beated slower, bum-bum... bum-bum. “I remembered it... Heh, of all... times. I remember. Her name... It-it was...” The last words spoken accompanied his last breath. Eyes, blank, halfway open and staring at the sun. His hand loosened its grip on the ground below. The small smile faded. Axel Cluney, the man from Beverly Hills, who went to the CAGE, having survived so many years, died a free man on the Nevada sand. Piotr blinked, waiting expectantly for a name that never came; it took several moments for the Russian to realize his friend had passed, and once he did, his mouth tightened into a frown. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he reached for the man’s open eyes and closed them respectfully, “You died a free man, Axel, and you will be going to a good place, comrade. Take care of Illyana for me.” And with those final words, he hefted the body of Axel Cluney over his shoulder and stood tall, walking toward the Brotherhood and away from the CAGE, a sight neither of them would ever see again. |
![]() |
|
| Raven Darkholme | Sep 10 2009, 05:37 AM Post #63 |
|
Unregistered
|
Everything around her was moving very quickly. Guards were dying. Mutants were perishing. Some were fleeing. The entire place seemed to shake as Magneto drew closer and began to take control of the facility. She knew that regardless of what happened to her or any other single person on this ship, her master was here and the battle was over. However, she had no choice but to deal with the situation in front of her. While she wanted to kill Zero-one herself, the two beasts that arrived had to be dealt with first. Mystique's eyes looked up to Zero-one as the assassin threw the adamantium shoto at her, and she immediately reacted with her enhanced reflexes. Quite literally, she could see the blade flipping end over end through the air as if it were thrown in slow motion. At the same time, the hound to her left was beginning to lunge at her yet again. Reacting in a way that could only be called superhuman, Mystique took a few quick steps forward, making the hound miss and jump along behind her. While she did this, she reached out with her right hand and caught the adamantium shoto by it's hilt. Now with the sword in her possession, Mystique turned her body towards the hound while it was still in mid-air behind her and brought the blade down on it's back. The hound cried out in pain as it was hit in the back, gooey acidic blood oozing from the wound immediately. The beast's blood spurting on her right shoulder and waist, causing her to cry out as it burned through her flesh. It turned to face her quickly, it's tentacles whipping from it's face wildly before leaping at her once again. As it came down upon her, Mystique brought the shoto into it's torso as she fell back, the beast landing upon her and crying out as it was stabbed. It then unleashed a brutal smack upon her head with it's right paw, knocking Mystique loopy. The last thing Mystique could recall were the tentacles... the hungry mouth... and the metallic building crumbling and crunching around her. Then, all was dark. |
|
|
| Blackout | Sep 12 2009, 05:15 PM Post #64 |
|
Unregistered
|
Dissonant vibrations rumbled through Lucian’s limbs, conversing inanely, telling him things about the ship that in his current state made about as much sense as double Dutch. At the far end of the corridor the wall suddenly buckled, reinforced metal doubling and splitting. It whined and squealed before folding over on itself like sodden card, and a boiling mass of black ruts vomited forth, thrusting mounds of thrashing tendrils through cracks and holes, worming into nooks and crannies, pushing massively through the rended awning as though birthed from some infernal metallic womb. Jesus H. fucking Christ. Dogs that belonged in the Necronomicon, mutant tentacle vines that wouldn’t look out of place in a hardcore hentai flick… Perhaps he actually had fallen into the pages of a Lovcraftian novel. Spare him confrontation with the deified manifestation of a colossal, omnipotent extraterrestrial, and he could just about live with a few grotesque specimens that cryptozoologists would get wet over. Eyeing the encroaching vines, which less grew and explored than swelled and quivered like antennae, Lucian questioned the appliance of the word live here. Battling against his twitching shawl of pulsating wiring, Lucian managed to stand, only to realise upon becoming vertical he felt like he was falling. It was the uncomfortable kind of sensation he’d get when slouching in the corner of a lift, the sort of heaving surge that would make him wonder if his diaphragm could contain his stomach or if he’d find himself spitting up a small section of his digestive system. The freefalling tummy lurch. Lucian could feel it in the way the helicarrier moaned and shivered, in the way it spat and hissed and riddled, bolts shaking loose, gravity taking over-- this vile, glorified prison boat was hurtling towards the ground. Everything pitched and jilted, and as he fumbled towards what he hoped was some sort of exit, Luc very nearly smashed nose first into a jut of ruined hallway. Extracting himself from a flaring pyre of cables, he imagined what would happen when the station flattened against the ground below. He’d feel his skin peel away from his muscle, fragments of his bones would shatter outwards and pepper his organs, and he’d feel his teeth splinter and burst through his tongue like dentine shrapnel. And then as the girders collapsed inwards on top of him, twisted by physics, he’d taste bile and blood and find out what sort of texture his lungs had as they were forced up into his throat. Panic tore at said lungs and chased the blood from his face, and he thought he might pass out. Being squashed like a bug never came. The helicarrier rammed into the desert floor with something nearer grace than lubber, and although he bounced several times and cracked his head against a blunt lump of debris, it wasn’t the horrific decimation he was waiting for. Slices of walling peeled back like great gates, light spilling through in miraculous bursts. Could have been death, he supposed, wilting at the stark flare, skull pounding. Maybe passing on wasn’t quite so traumatic after all, although he wasn’t quite sure his ultimate destination was that glorious gleaming golden throne nestled somewhere upstairs in the clouds. Air hit his skin, air that wasn’t recycled. Freedom… freedom was… Colour palette beyond orange and grey, gradients and spectrum that seemed, in this abrupt tumbling eruption of natural forms and fauna, almost psychedelic. Blinking, Lucian staggered in the fierce desert light, pupils contracted to painful pinpoints, arm flung up to shield against the blinding effulgence. The filthy blue sky that stretched massively above him wasn’t real enough, and it stung his eyes to stare at all of it, all of it... Russet pillars cleaved the horizon, silhouetted and stark against the acid blue backdrop, and beyond that barren hills rolled, tawny landmasses rumpling the scrub wilderness in hazy lumps. Heat puddles liquefied the sandy floor. Dust hung suspended in windless eddies. Around him spilled sobbing guards, shrieking mutants, bleeding mutants, laughing mutants… Freedom was stunning and horrible. Freedom was too bloody hot. |
|
|
| Feral | Sep 12 2009, 06:14 PM Post #65 |
|
Unregistered
|
A lot had happened in the last couple of hours. And, for all of it, Feral had been more quiet than she had ever been in her entire life. The fact that she was able to do this, alone had blown her mind. Now, things were happening. She had her powers back, yet, she hadn't killed anybody yet, nor did she plan to. Everything she had planned to do with Tina was now out the door. The Latina never realized how overwhelming it was going to be when the Rage bringer had first told her about this glorious day. It was a bit different than she had envisioned it. When she originally imagined it, she didn't imagine horrifyingly mutated dogs, fucking mutated vines, the incredible amounts of death (She did imagine some bloodshed... but just not this much), Piotr wearing a bra, or pretty much everything else she had seen that day. A shame she hadn't had her camera, even though she didn't actually have one. Now, right then, the sky was falling. Or maybe they were falling from the sky. Neither were pleasant at that moment, though. And then the crash, the feeling that what she had spent the better half of a year was now receiving a bit of blunt force to it, and was going back to where it had been created. No, not the Arizona desert, the ground. The place that every damn person inside of the helicarrier wished they had been from anywhere to a few weeks to a few years, whether they had been prisoners or even the staff (Though, to be fair, most were probably dead at this point). Now, something smelled funny. Like... not sweaty mutated criminals with a fair amount of blood mixed in. It smelled fresh. And, looking around at the few people that were alive nearby, Maria could tell that they smelled it too. Freedom. Fuck dammit, it was long overdue. Now, Maria didn't give a shit about the way she was getting back home, or that she was going to be an escaped convict from this point on, all that really mattered was that she was soon going to be able to breath something that was actually a product of photosynthesis, not from a humongous canister to stock up the inmates for the next couple years. Seeing a few people move out, and follow the light at the end of the corridor, Maria stood up from where she had been healing all along from the bruises and cuts she had obtained from various things that had happened that day. Using her speed, the young woman dropped down to all fours and threw herself at the end of the tunnel, squealing all along. She was free. Free to do whatever she wanted. Right now, she wanted to beat the shit out of her sister. |
|
|
| Pyro | Oct 4 2009, 06:05 PM Post #66 |
![]()
Pyrokinesis/Fiery Puns
|
( JP between Pyro and Magneto ) Mutants slithered out of the fallen prison. The blue shapeshifter walked over towards himself and the Master of Magnetism. He watched as she went by and towards Magneto. "T'ch. Not even a damn 'thank you'," he complained to himself, looking back towards the breaking CAGE. Some gigantic metal man was carrying the body of another prisoner was making his way over towards them. Pyro didn't think the man would bother with attacking him or Magneto, since they were here to save their asses. Beyond the metal giant, a gelatinous blue body span around, arms stretched out to the sky. A tan-orange furry came out too, and further behind her metal tore as a man tackled a crippled guard laughing. Pyro forced himself to look away when a set of teeth were brought into their fight. Sniffing, St. John looked up. Through the billowing smoke and torn metal, vines began to creep out of the destroyed prison, breaking through the metal shell and reaching into the outside world. "The hell are those?" Magneto watched the chaos of the moment unfold… mutants dragging bodies of dead humans behind them as if they would take them home as trophies. He shook his head in disgust – not at the mutants, but what the humans had turned his people into. Desperate, savage men clinging onto anything they could that made them feel superior instead of realizing the truth… the were superior. He was somewhat surprised at the image of Colossus emerging from the wreckage carrying a dead body over his shoulder. The Master of Magnetism wondered exactly what had landed the Russian in this particular situation, but did not pry. He merely nodded at the former X-Man as Piotr passed them with a somber look on his face… the way he held the body gave Magneto the distinct impression that he was carrying a fallen comrade off the battlefield. Hopefully images like this would remind mutants that while this was a day of liberation, it was also one that represented every reason the Brotherhood existed… the mistreatment of mutants and the defamation of their name as a people. "The hell are those?" Erik turned his attention back to the wreckage to see green plant-like tendrils slithering out of the scrap metal in various locations and make their way across the sand much quicker than a normal plant should have. It could have been the product of a mutant ability, but Magneto highly doubted it… he had a feeling that there were abominations similar to the thing he was looking at specifically made to hunt and kill mutants, and he wasn’t going on gut instinct alone. His contacts had hinted at the possibility. “Those,” Magneto said as he slowly lifted himself off the sandy floor, “are abominations and represent everything that is wrong with humankind.” Rising several feet into the air, his chest expanded as he took a deep breath, raising his hands in a gesture of invitation. “My fellow mutants! I am Magneto! I and a handful of your people have risked everything to grant you your freedom from the hands of humanity! We freely give you back which is rightfully yours and ask that you go about your lives and responsibilities. Go back to your families… seek jobs… reunite with friends!” “But also take under consideration that these things can be taken away from you as long as the humans remain in charge! Now is not the time to sit back and let others fight a war for you! If you value your lives and the lives of your loved ones, you will seek something that transcends an ordinary difference! I invite each and every one of you to join your brothers and sisters… to make a life in a new city… a mutant city! I ask you to support the mutants fighting for your God-given right to make your own decisions free of outside influence! Become one of us! Join the cause of the Brotherhood!” Several cheers erupted from the crowd as Magneto lowered himself to the ground once more, reaching out with a hand and concentrating on the wreckage. The mass of metal began to shake once more, the top caving in as the thing started to slowly implode; the crowds around the structure began to move away… some running… some stumbling or crawling, but everyone got the message. Feet back on the ground, Erik looked over at the pyrokinetic, “Ready yourself, Pyro. We’re about to end this.” "Endin' it in fire; only the best purification for this place," Pyro sneered, reaching into a pocket to withdraw yet another lighter. Glancing down at them, St. John mused. "I need t' get some new lighters..." Pulled from his thoughts at the sound of a ship being pulled into a million pieces, the Master of Magnetism had stretched out the metaphysical threads of his mutation, gripping the prison and tearing it asunder. The scream of broken metal filled the desert, the deafening noise penetrating even Pyro down to the bone. As the prison revealed its innards, the intestines of the prison exposed, mutant and guard alike were expoded, wounded and shattered by the initial crash. The sentient plants surrounded the bodies, the vines reaching into their flesh, sapping the very strength from their bones. St. John watched, disgusted with what he saw. But even that soon disappeared under Magneto's manipulation. Metal churn and stretched, collapsing the entirety of the broken ship. It condensed, becoming smaller and more managable. Pyro watched as Magneto turned the prison into a dome with two cylindrical tupes reaching out the Australian. Sneering, St. John lit his lighters, and thrust his hands forward. Fire surged from the lighters in a roar, the hollow scream of their passage up the cylinders. Inside, the remaining occupants of prison guards and mutants were subject to an ancient torture. Drawn from the histories of Rome, the Brazen Bull now took the shape of the colossal dome, cooking the lifeforms within it, their screams rising above the roar of St. John's fire. The cacophony of sound rose into a din of horror, the smell of cooking flesh threatening to penetrate even through the metal shape of the prison. Such satisfaction, unlike so many things he had burned. Humans -- mutants. Did it matter to him? Did it matter that he was burning his own kind? They were weak. Unfit. They didn't rise to Magneto's cause and remained in the prison. But the humans... Knowing their flesh had turned to ash and their bones were a pile of charred matter, that was enough for him. St. John's endeavors didn't wither; fed by his pleasure and hatred, flames continued to be channeled into the funnels, until the tubes themselves were glowing red hot. Erik didn't look away from the metal dome as it heated – first orange, then dark red... brighter as the heat increased several degrees per second. He did not weep for the life lost there – mutant nor human – but neither did he take pleasure in the carnage. He did not want the mutant legacy to be built on carnage and bloodshed... nor did he want to have to cut a bloody trail to mutant salvation. But someone had to, and in doing so, he saved the soul of some other poor bastard from making the decision that would stain his being forever. Their mission was a holy one accomplished by unholy means, but that was the way of evolution – entire races dying off in natural disasters. The weak would die... becoming food for the strong or simply trodden underfoot. It was a violent process, and time had done nothing to change that. So Erik did not look away from the superheated dome; he did not look into the grateful eyes of those he and his Brotherhood had saved. He watched the instrument of destruction he and Pyro had created, his silent vigil a memorial to the men and women who lost their lives in a tragic war. Minutes passed, and Magneto did not twitch a muscle as he watched quietly. He could feel the eyes of Piotr, Saint, Pyro, and the host of others that knew him as nothing more than something to fear. Some of those strangers watched in awe at how he stood his ground and watched so many die; others wanted to puke from the stench of burned hair and flesh that was beginning to slip through the air, reminding them of the carnage that this man had created for decades. Some wanted to stand with such strength, while others could not bring themselves to build a new life on a foundation of bloated corpses. “Enough, Pyro,” Erik said as he reached out and began to compress the dome; the air screamed as the metal began to shrink in size, quickly compressing into a vertical disk the size of a house. Magneto dropped his hand and sent the flattened metal straight into the ground, watching as the shifting sands slipped in the crevice it left until there was almost no trace that a hellicarrier had ever been there. He turned, giving Pyro a sidelong glance. “Well done,” he said, referencing the fact that the ashen remains had already begun to mingle with the desert loam. Within hours, windblown sands would completely rid the area of any trace that anything living had been here. All that remained is what the Brotherhood wanted to be found. “Amelia,” Erik spoke into his communicator, “take us out of here. All of us.” |
[align=center]![]() Olga gets credit for the cinders and gifness.[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
![]() Our users say it best: "Zetaboards is the best forum service I have ever used." |
|
| « Previous Topic · The C.A.G.E. · Next Topic » |










7:21 PM Jul 11