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


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


Join our community!


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

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Where Are They Now; Cyclops, Chamber
Topic Started: Jan 15 2010, 02:43 AM (570 Views)
Banshee
Unregistered

Jan 16th

Afternoon.

____________________________________________________________________________

For Sean Cassidy, time had seemed to slow down considerably in the last few days, he had became slightly more somber and introspective. After hearing the talk around the institute about his old friend Jono and the time they spent in Gen-X together, it was more of an accident than anything else that they became close, but they seemed to always ha something to talk about, and for Sean, finding a good conversation inside of someone was always a welcome and unexpected surprise. Lately however, conversation was becoming increasingly harder to come by, his mind often falling back on the well being of his friend, Sean knew the man they called Chamber, he knew his personality and the way of his thought, and he knew all that happened must have been weighing heavily on the mans mind.

The details of what had happened to Jono were ever changing from the bits of conversation Banshee had picked up on, hearing the mutters and whispers of the children in the cafeteria, the comment of the teachers as they passed in the hallway, it must have been something more than he knew. Apocalypse was an easy time for no one, but few had to deal with the emotional aftermath he was sure his friend was suffering from. He had watched the introverted mutant go from a child to a man during his days as his teacher, and, as he had with all of the members of the Gen-X class, he had formed a unique bond with the man that he couldn't imagine losing. He knew Chamber well enough to know that the violations that Apocalypse had bestowed upon him would leave lasting scars. He had always been an introspective boy. The nature of his mutation and the ravaging effects it had on his body had naturally led the boy to a quiet and solitary mind set. Helping him, as much as he had, to try and become a happier and more sociable individual were fond memories and nothing he wanted to throw away as "in vain" just because of the tirades of a maniacal and nearly unstoppable mutant.

Help, he figured, would lie in the people Jono had chosen to surround himself with in the years following his stay with Sean in Gen-X. The Irishman began to make his way to the office of Scott Summers with a bounce and a purpose. If anyone would be able to shed light on the still vague details of what had happened to Jono, Sean figured it would the man at the head of the entire Institute, Scott was something of an acquaintance, though not someone Sean would classify as a friend. While walking to the man's office, thoughts of the past, the present and all the things the world had suffered through bounced in his head. The sandy haired Irish man looked up from thoughts as he approached the office door, it was then he noticed Cyclops outside of his door, Sean couldn't tell if he was leaving his office or just coming to it, but it didn't matter either way he supposed. The man with the red glasses was just a few feet in front of him as Banshee as words began to flood from his mouth.

With a glance at the visored man he said, "I'd like to talk to you Scott. One of my stu--, my people is in trouble. I know Jono and I know that he's not okay, he couldn't be. I wanna know what happened, exactly what happened, where he is, and what you people propose to do about helping him."
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cyclops
Member Avatar
Punches from the Punch Dimension
"I'd like to talk to you Scott. One of my stu--, my people is in trouble. I know Jono and I know that he's not okay, he couldn't be. I wanna know what happened, exactly what happened, where he is, and what you people propose to do about helping him."

He had work to do. Scott always had work to do, not because no one else could do it, but there were simply things around here, that if he didn't do them, they just didn't get done. Maintenance really, fixing loose shutters, making sure fireplace flues were cleaned, chopping wood, things of that nature. He had a list the length of his arm that needed to be attended to, and he could probably farm this out, assign students to help him work this, that or the other, but to be honest, it was no surprise to anyone that he didn't. He liked to work, liked to be busy. Scott, at his core, no matter how many villains he fought, how many lives he changed, how many times he helped to save the world, was still an unwanted orphan who believed he needed to validate his existence. He needed to be useful. He needed to be needed. So, he made himself invaluable, put himself in the position where the world would stop turning if he was gone. He didn't recognize this in himself, Scott wasn't any more able to understand himself than he was anyone else, but it was who he was in the deepest places of his being.

So, Sean's rather confrontational approach was a little unwanted, as Scott headed out to get some work done, and he met the Irishman's eyes with a bit of a huff, well, as much of a huff as Scott ever allowed himself to show. "What happened to him? Apocalypse happened, Sean, Apocalypse. You want to know how, walk with me and we'll talk. I have work to do."

He headed down the hall and outside, his long legs covering the ground quickly. Unless dealing with a child, Scott wasn't known to slow down his stride for others. Only Jean was given that charity, but, as if further proof of their compatibility, she had never asked him to slow down, instead, she learned to meet him in the middle, their pace syncing in the casual quickness that fit them both so well. First on Scott's list was to mend a portion of the fence around their vegetable garden where the snowfall had caused part of it to collapse. Right now there were no vegetables in most gardens, not in a New York winter, but they were mutants. With weather manipulators, plant growers, elementals of all sorts, there was no reason that the laws of nature couldn't be broken in this small way.

As Scott started to repair the fence, he continued his conversation with Sean, saying, "As far as we've been able to piece together, since no one had a complete idea of the scope of this all, Apocalypse, using a captured and brainwashed SHIELD squadron, lured away several of our people, at first using their resources to make their disappearances go unnoticed, a matter of routine. Using these manipulations, one by one, people on our fringes went missing, Jono being one of them, and each time there was a plausible, logical reason for their absence. Our captive people were twisted, tortured with chemical, physical and robotic means of transformation and control, until they were the creatures that attacked the world, and it was not until one of them, the Horseman of Death, who had up until then been Warren Worthington, very visibly attacked Polaris, Lorna Dane, and abducted Alex, my brother. That was the first time we realized that our people were not just going AWOL because of stress or outside ventures. We had very little time, and no information whatsoever regarding where our people were, what was happening to them, until they launched their attacks. We took them down as quickly and as completely as possible, bringing three of the four Horsemen here for recovery. The remaining Horseman was claimed by the Brotherhood."

He looked up at Sean from where he knelt before the broken fence and said, "Every resource we had was given to those who had been afflicted. We removed all nanite control from them, performed dialysis to cleanse their blood of chemicals, offered every one of them mental and physical rehabilitation to regain control of their powers, themselves. Warren's left the school for some time to try and figure out what he wants from the future, my brother is again leading X-Factor and using his experience to make himself a better person because of it. What Jono wants to do from this point on is ultimately Jono's decision, not ours. Everything that we can do to help him through this has been done. He has our resources, he has our support, but there is nothing more we can do if he doesn't help us, and frankly, coming here and demanding we fix him, as if we've been twiddling our thumbs and letting him suffer, is belittling to all the hard work we've done, people like Henry McCoy who suffered just as much, like Jean who still has difficulty with the telepathic attack Apocalypse unleashed on her. It's insulting and it's unwelcome."

Scott returned to his work, "Does that answer your questions, Sean?"
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Banshee
Unregistered

It was obvious to Sean that Scott was none to pleased with the way he had gone about his questions, Mr. Summers seemed to find his approached rude and blunt which was not the way it was intended. Having grown up in his life of privilege, Sean was used to asking questions and getting the answers he wanted, he didn't mean to be rude and would never do it intentionally, his emotions had just got the best of him. Worrying about his old friend and not being able to get the straight forward information since his arrival back at the institute had got the Irishman's emotions running.

"Listen Scott, I'm not trying to say you or anyone else is at fault here, I'm just concerned that's all. I know Jono well. He and I have been through a lot together, his well being is important to me. It was not my intention to seem ungrateful for all you have did for him and all the rest of our people. My concern has got the best of me I suppose. I'm not good at worrying about people, it's not something I'm used to, I'm not like you. I'm not the type of leader you are. I rarely take charge of anything, even if I know I should, but I'm trying to change that, I'm trying to become better, I hope you can find the patience to help me out. Just look at this fence, I don't know how long it has needed fixing, but I do know that it would have needed it a lot longer if you had not taken it upon yourself to mend it. That's just not me, I don't take the intuitive you do."

Banshee leaned against the fence as Scott listened, crouched down beside the posts. This was not the way Sean had seen this meeting going, he wanted a quick answer to a complicated question, for someone to point him in the direction of his friend and tell him there was nothing to worry about, he wasn't lazy, he wasn't under the assumption everyone would lick lollipops and romp through fields of sunflowers singing Cat Stevens songs. He just didn't want his friend to be dealing with what he knew he was, he just didn't want it to be true.

"I know you're busy, I know you always are, but I would love to find Jono, I would love just to talk to him, he is important to me and he is important to the X-Men Scott. If you can find the time time, I would appreciate your help, besides, I think a drink would do us both a world of good."
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cyclops
Member Avatar
Punches from the Punch Dimension
Scott set aside his hammer and stood up. He was a tall man, but Sean was only an inch or so shorter, and built more solidly. So this wasn't an intimidation ploy. Scott rarely felt the need to use his height to bully people. He wasn't known to be a bully as it was, though, because it wasn't in his nature, so his irritation and complaint with the accusations, which were indeed accusations even if Sean said they weren't, showed through without confrontation. He was simply expression his frustration that he had to think things through for everyone. For the children, he expected it, but for the adults? Really?

"Sean, excuse me for saying this, but what the hell are you coming to me for?" Scott said, spreading his hands, helplessly. "The fact of the matter is, Jono is a grown man, and as such, I can only give him as much help as he lets me. There's no hiding the fact that social interaction is not my strong suit and obviously it's not Jono's. What he went through, what Warren and Alex and Amelia went through, and to a lesser degree Hank and Mr. Jeffries, I can't imagine. Jean and I were influenced, some time ago, by a similar, but far less violent and lasting force, but that doesn't mean I understand their pain, their guilt, and I'm not the person who can ever understand it. Each one is dealing with it as they can, and the only thing we as their friends can do is be there for them as they let us."

He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair, always careful not to dislodge his glasses, "Sean, if you want to help Jono, then Jono is who you should be talking to. Not me. It seems to me that you're looking for someone to blame this all on, someone to turn this around on and say, 'it's your fault my friend is suffering, it's all you.' The trouble is, it's not my fault. It's not your fault. It's not Jono's fault. It's all Apocalypse. He was something beyond anything we've ever seen, and he nearly destroyed this world. There's nothing we could have done to prevent it, because there was no way for us to predict it. Now we know though, now we know and now we can prepare. It's the best we can do, it's all we can do."

Clapping Sean on the shoulder, he said, "My point is, I don't know what Jono is up to because Jono won't let me know, and I am not close enough to him to push. You, however, are his friend. I think maybe you need to be talking to him instead of me. You say you like my initiative? It's not hard to pick up a phone. Put in a little effort. Talk a little of that blarney you Irish are so famous for."
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Banshee
Unregistered

- With a bit of Speed, for good measure-


Scott seemed to go off on Sean as he went about recapping what had happened and the reasons why he couldn't help Jono. They made sense, all of them. Every point Scott made seemed like it was something he had went over in his mind countless times. These horrible events, even though they hadn't happened to Scott personally, had obviously effected him deeply. That's the kind of person he was, and it was because he was that type of person, that Sean had come to him in the first place.

"Scott, I'm afraid we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I'm not blaming you for anything. How could I? What's happened is beyond that. The reason I've come to you is because I see myself in you a bit. These people, Generation X,they're mine. They're my students, just as the children in this place are yours. I'm asking you because I know without a doubt that you would do anything in your power to help your students, regardless of how old they had gotten. Jono's always been a special case. His powers, what they did to him, made for an extremely introverted boy. I watched him come out of that and into his own." Sean's eyes began to tear up with thoughts of the past and realizations about the present. "Hearing all of this, well, I'm just afraid he's slipped back into that."

Scott placed a hand on Sean's back; Banshee thought to himself that maybe the man also saw a few similarities between them. "Thank you Scott. I think I may have needed to unload that. I think I'll go find him myself. This is the sort of thing I'd like to do face to face." With those words and a smile he went on his way walking the grounds in hopes of finding Jono.

Tommy had been running late which, for a speedster, was quite the feat. He had forgotten all about science class and the monster of a quiz that was scheduled for today. So, throwing on his backpack he went buzzing through the grounds, careful to miss the gardens. Mr. Summers had given him so much grief about ripping through the greenery. It was about a tenth of a second later and three fourths of the way to his class when he saw a man flagging him down. It was a grownup, probably a teacher. Tommy skidded to a halt, wondering if there was some sort of speed limit he was unaware of.

"Look, I got a really important test and I-,". The man cut him off and asked him if he had seen Jono, a name that sounded vaguely familiar.

"You mean the dude with the face?," Tommy motioned his hand across the lower part of his own face. "He's usually in the gym. He's pretty scary. But anyway, I seriously gotta go dude. I mean, Mr. Dude. Sorry." With that, he bolted off to class, praying that the cheat sheet he had written on his palms had survived the trip.

Shaking off the hurried experience, Sean made his way to the gymnasium. Once entering he saw that the young speedster was correct. Jono was in the corner with the punching bag. He was unleashing furious blows into it's center. Sean knew the man well enough to know this wasn't the norm for him. This was frustration, or something worse. Staring at him, he thought about the boy he used to know, how introverted and seemingly miserable he had been. When hearing of Jono's ordeal, Sean feared he would descend back into that state, but Sean was wrong, and horribly so. This was different than before, darker and more violent.

He walked up the man. "Jono," his voice was upbeat as he tried to put on a happy face. "It's good to see you. I wanted to speak with you. Things have happened to you son, and I think it'd be for the best if we talked it out." He placed his hand on the man's shoulder and looked him square in the face.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Chamber(Old)
Member Avatar
Psionic Biokinesis / Telepathy
When you’re missing a heart, working out goes from a battle with stamina to a war with your wits. Capillaries remain in a state of flux. Red blood cells oxygenate by way of bionuclear transferral, or some other inexplicable postulation farted out by confused biologists. You never reach that point of fatigue. Your muscles don’t tremble or burn or ache or cramp. You can’t overheat, so you don’t sweat, so you don’t piss out all those vital salts and minerals through your pores. Dehydration can’t occur in a body over-saturated with ATP, with it’s own self-sustaining reservoir of fluids and acids and proteins.

Jono could have pummelled this battered punching bag until his knuckles shattered. Until the bloody thing split. Maybe he wanted to break his hand or the bag or his mind or all three. His assiduous assaults were rife with a kind of analytical disinterest. Exactly how long would it take before either one happened?

It never got that far.

Sean’s entrance didn’t register until the bastard had gotten close enough to tell that Jono wasn’t quite paying attention to anything but the sound of his own punches hammering dully against the leather.

If there was a brief moment of pleased surprise, it didn’t show. Having the past stride through the door and grab you tended to dredge up a flood-load of memories. Sean didn’t approach him, it was Gen-X—generation-x—that fucked up group of well-meaning misfits; it was Paige and her stupid smile and her skin everywhere, it was them all half dead gasping for breath and Omega Red howling horrified underneath the din of his explosion. Angelo’s moronic face and the way he could make Jono laugh without even trying.

Chamber stalled, one fist against the bag. He didn’t jerk out of the Irishman’s grasp.

Sean had that look on his face, the one people get when they’re trying hard to smile. They’re trying with such intense concentration they don’t realise their lips are pulled back into a snarl. That their forehead’s furrowed along perma-grooves. They’re trying so hard that they don’t know their eyes look like bloodshot chunks of ice.

Sean stood there and clutched Jono’s shoulder and tried to smile. Under the gymnasium lighting his hair burnt bright red.

Jono massaged his fist, fingers picking over loose wraps. His knuckles had bruised, swollen underneath the frayed bandages. He probed at them like he was testing an avocado, thumb digging in between ligaments, like they were so fucking fascinating he hadn’t really heard what his old mentor had said.

:::Well let’s sit down and have some bloody tea and crumpets then.::: he responded eventually, tugging his shoulder out of those grasping fingers. The bag loomed in front of him like a massive leg of ham. He struck it again and swore. He didn’t know whether or not that irritable little fuck was audible.
[align=center]Posted Image[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Banshee
Unregistered

This was not the way Sean had imagined this meeting going, short of punching him in the face, Jono was about as clear as a crystal that he wasn't happy to see him. The sheer fury of the way he pounded the punching bag before him, taking out the frustrations of the world on it as if it were the cause of all his distress. He was angry and confused, it was easy to see and Sean new him well enough to know not to push too hard, lest he end up on the wrong side of a fierce blast of energy. Placing his hand on the punching bag and holding it still Sean tried once again to speak to his old student.

"Jono, I came to check in on your well-being, what I didn't come to do was feed you some sappy bullshit story about how it was all going to be okay, how you could imagine your troubles as a balloon floating away into the sky and it would all be better. I'll only give you the cold and vrytal fact, the truth." Banshee stood under the harsh lights and took a step closer to Chamber.

"You shouldn't forget what you have done, and I'm sure by now you've realized you probably never will, but that doesn't mean you can't use those memories to make you stronger, to fuel that energy that lives inside of you to do the right things. You may have grown into a man Jono, but I knew you when you were a boy, and I know that boy is still in you. You can't insult me, you can't hurt my feeling and send me running and crying away. I know you Jono, and I want to know what is happening inside that mind of yours." Sean took a step toward the gym door.

"Come outside, it's a nice day. Also, try and loose that pissed of attitude on the way, that way I won't have to unleash my pissed attitude, remember, I'm Irish, we do it better."
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Chamber(Old)
Member Avatar
Psionic Biokinesis / Telepathy
Jono stilled the gently swaying bag, hands on either side of it. Sean was a stubborn bastard, something the estranged biokinetic hadn’t forgotten. It was one of those exasperating traits every English-speaking European shared, and the Celts were worse for every inch, except the Welsh, who were an inexplicable oddity no one else could really figure out. Wales grew on the backside of England’s trunk like a benign melanoma; warily tolerated and often prodded and generally ignored in the vague hope that it might just disappear.

His shoulders slumped, forehead coming to rest on the leather. He listened to the speech without interrupting, wondering how many times the Irishman had practiced it before he’d marched in here and clapped him on the back and levelled with him like they were still at Massachusetts. Part of him wished they still were, that those speeches still had as much of an effect on him as they had done when he was angry and sixteen and full of false misanthropy.

Sean ploughed towards the exit without glancing back to check if Jono was following. Jono watched his old mentor blur in the periphery of his vision, thought about just letting him march out alone, those inevitable pep talks and Oscar-winning monologues heard by no-one but himself, and the telepath might have, had he not expected the wanker to come stomping right back in again and manhandle his wayward once-student all the way out into the glorious, sunny afternoon.

So reluctantly leaving the battered punching bag to sway unattended, Jono followed, tugging at the bandages enswathing his fingers and wrists. Everything was bandaged these days: his face, his hands, his pride. He’d rejected scarves in favour of those old rags… his version of week-old stubble.

Jono matched Sean’s pace. He avoided the Irishman’s gaze.

:::D’you want the truncated version or detail by bloody detail? I could play it all out in your head if you prefer.:::
[align=center]Posted Image[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Banshee
Unregistered

:::D’you want the truncated version or detail by bloody detail? I could play it all out in your head if you prefer.:::

"How about you just be straight forward and drop the shit Jono, how about that?" Sean said with a smile and a chuckle, he wasn't sure why but he had always enjoyed trying to piss of his students. It was obvious though, that this student was in no mood for joking, he had been through a lot, and he lived with those memories everyday. "I meant what I said before, you shouldn't try and forget those memories, that will only make it harder, you need to realize the strength I see in you, I have always seen in you."

"You can't walk through this earth living inside your head, you need to pay attention to what's going on. SHIELD, Magneto, Hodge... it's all happening at the same time and you are stronger than staying in this school, sulking. You've got to get out in the world, try and help the things you think are wrong." Banshee hadn't came to find Jono with the intention of so much talk, inspiration was not really part of his game, but he cared about Chamber, so he really couldn't help himself. All he could really hope at this point was that the man he still viewed as a teen would come around, would just try and be happy.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Chamber(Old)
Member Avatar
Psionic Biokinesis / Telepathy
:::Sean…::: Jono stopped and scrubbed at what was left of his face, an exhausted twitch carried over from years of insomnia, one of those unconscious little quirks picked up after toying around with coffee and ‘phet at five a.m. back when he was an aspiring rock-god and a moron. Those late night/early morning weekend sessions still clung to him through subconscious habits, like this enervated facepalm.

:::I’m not fifteen. I haven’t been one of your kids for coming onto half a decade. I appreciate this little pep talk, I really do, but frankly, you haven’t a clue what you’re wanking on about. I’m glad that you’ve maintained the jolly Irish stereotype; you’re a credit to your country mate, but you’re talking out of your arse. ‘You’re stronger than this.’ ‘Help the world.’ You back on the drink? This planet is fucked. It’s a big ugly cesspit built on the bodies of powerless people who think they can make a difference, and dickheads in power who don’t give a toss and never will. That’s how this shithole has functioned for millennia.:::

He picked up the pace again, storming off along the tended paths that led deep into the tangled heart of the gardens.

:::See me; I’m an anarchist at heart. It’s a stupid fucking idea though, the thought that people will just exist side-by-side lawlessly and peacefully in some ever-shifting equilibrium fuelled by bullshit and the civil intellectualism of a species most members of whom can’t even pinpoint Kazakhstan on a bleeding world map. Maybe that’s what you’re suggesting I do; tear down the fucking government and let everyone destroy one another because I have some misinformed but well-meaning theories on how we could all live in peace together.:::

Jono scoffed, and shot a soul-withering look at Sean.

:::I’m not in the mood for being patronised. You want to get all cute and cuddly go n play with the preschoolers.:::
[align=center]Posted Image[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Banshee
Unregistered

The child Sean remembered was gone, the man standing in front of him was a stark contrast to what he had imagined his former student would be. He was rude and harsh in a way that hurt the sandy haired Irishman, it was almost as if Jono's troubles shadowed his feeling for the people he was supposed to remember fondly. He was hurt, that much was obvious.

"You say you're not fifteen anymore Jono, then act like it. We've been through this. You're not the child that recessed back into himself every time things get hard. You're stronger than that now, have you forgotten who I am, I know you. The strength that you had, that you have, has always amazed me, and you know that?"

Jono accused Sean of patronizing him. If he hadn't known him, hadn't watched him grow up that might have been true. Jono was a powerful mutant, perhaps the most powerful the Irishman had even met. To have someone with that kind of power all out of sort was a dangerous proposition. Still, all the reasonings and logic Sean could think of fell at the feet of the fact that this was a boy, now a man, that he cared about as if he were his own child.

"Don't lose yourself, son. Don't let that evil thing rob the world of who you are." Sean let out a sigh. He saw the look on Jono's face. He had had enough. "You know what? You're right. This world isn't easy. It's a giant piss pot in fact. I've been a part of it for much longer than you, and I can can tell you it doesn't get any easier." There was fever in his voice now. "Perhaps I went about this the wrong way. I was speaking to you as if a glimmer of the boy I knew still existed. Perhaps he doesn't. It's a shame if that's true. So, I'll taught to you as if you were any random fool talking his way out of a helping hand. This world is hard and it may not be worth your time, but it's all you've got. If you want to mope around like a sack of hair trying to pass yourself off as some poor wounded tortured soul then go ahead, but don't be surprised when I call you out on it. It's me Jono. You might not want to be the boy I knew, but I don't want to lose him. So I'm gonna fight you on it, and I'm not going to stop until he's back."

Sean turned and walked away, he find the man he knew was inside Jono, just not today. "Find me when you've calmed down." he said as he faded into the distance.


closed
Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
ZetaBoards gives you all the tools to create a successful discussion community.
« Previous Topic · Xavier Institute Archive · Next Topic »
Add Reply