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| battery acid; [Josh & Terry] | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 5 2010, 10:56 PM (1,436 Views) | |
| Hellion(old) | Sep 5 2010, 10:56 PM Post #1 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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Time of Day: 14:55 Place in Timeline: August 31st “Yeah, well. She’s always been a little kooky. What did you say she was wearing last Thanksgiving? A Gaultier halter and bright green harem pants?” “And a hive, for god’s sake. It looked like a nest. Birds were attracted to that horrible thing. We had to manoeuvre her around the furnishings. I was terrified it’d catch fire around the candelabras.” “Sounds about right. Wish I’d seen it.” “Yes, well, you know how that is.” “Yeah. I know. I just…” “What’s this about, Julian? We don’t hear from you for months on end and the only news we ever get is some staff member telling us about how you’ve screwed up again, and I have to put up with your father sulking for hours, and then the girls from the club ask about you and I have to make up something ridiculous about that damn school.” “I just…” fucked up. “…wanted to say hey.” “…” “Mom?” “Look. I’m not giving you any more money.” “What?” “We’re done bailing you out.” “That’s not-“ “We’re tired, Julian. I want to be able to go out and not worry that someone has dredged up something a little dirty to smear in our faces because you’ve gone and gotten yourself all tangled up with the wrong girl, got her pregnant, got yourself addicted to the latest designer drug and been packed away in another clinic, or worse—been dragged up in front of the press for throwing your little problem about like it’s a damn bottle rocket. Your genetics are nothing and they are immutable. Our name is the culmination of your father’s life’s work and mine and unlike the extra twist in your DNA it isn’t steadfast. Reputation is everything and our patience is strained, Julian. It is so strained.” Perched on the edge of his bed, Blackberry crushed so hard up against his ear it had flattened against his skull and stung where it dug against his scalp, Julian tensed into his hand, half his face smeared against his palm. He felt each fingertip gouge like a vice into his jaw, pent up emotion concentrating where they bit at his skin, nails making shallow grooves in needlepoint frustration. Elizabeth Camilla Keller. This woman he couldn’t connect with. Camilla wasn’t even her part of her real name; she’d swapped it out back in the early nineties because Becky didn’t sound rich enough. Of all the names she chose for herself, ‘mom’ had never been one of them. Julian wanted her to quit being a businesswoman just long enough to breathe. She sucked breath in sharp through her teeth like she always did before saying something disparaging, and instead of waiting to hear her disapproval Julian cut into the silence and said, “Forget it,” and let the cell drop into his lap. Tommy burned in his memory, all broken and twisted and muddled with blood and soil. Guilt choked him. He tried to ignore it by working out, by listening to hip-hop so loud his eardrums throbbed. Stuck in his room for an indefinite period—confined to a small inlet of teenage detritus—his options were limited. All his privileges had been removed. Calling his mom… she reminded of everything he hated about that life and everything he missed, like a limb or a freaking tumour. The null cuff was heavy on his wrist. This school, this fucking school, this network of corridors and hallways all coated in wooden gradients, walnut and mahogany and oak insets and uneven grain and scuff marks and little names left as graffiti in hidden places like the panels outside the dorm toilets and the inside leg of his bunk bed. This oldass mansion with its mothball stink and its battery acid detergent and its pots of potpourri, its midday silence and its late night creaks and snaps and its cold spots and its warm kitchen. This stupid collection of lost kids and lost adults who could only hold onto each other and pretend they weren’t as deplorable as the rest of humanity claimed, Julian had never been privy to it, even when he’d tried. The itch of something better felt like grit under his eyelids. It wasn’t appreciation he sought, you didn’t acquire that from people who weighed you up in five seconds flat and based everything they thought about you on how many labels you were wearing and whether those were high street or higher, whose pupils were all saucered-black and dead, the only sparkle in them refracted from the stones cluttering their extremities. That was all surface shit, like leaf litter or oil on water. Wealth was the by-product of authority, and it wasn’t simply money Julian had seen at the Hellfire Club. He was wasted here. The only thing he enjoyed was Terry, and she was fucking nuts. |
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| Elixir | Sep 6 2010, 04:35 PM Post #2 |
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“I swear to god... I'm gonna kill him. I swear... I've been scouring medical books all night looking for the worst way to kill a guy. I really have. I was in the infirmary till like six-thirty this morning. Ask Avery... she saw me. I told her I'm psycho obsessed with becoming a healer again, but I was just looking for something really horrible to do to him.” Josh's fists were clenched so tight that they were quaking... or maybe that was because the rest of his body was. As he stalked down the hall with murder in his eyes, he barely managed to keep his voice below a dull roar... mainly because he wasn't even registering it there was anyone around him. Nothing else mattered at that moment... nothing but what was laying in the infirmary. Since he'd already been in the infirmary doing some research on his own blood, Josh found out about Tommy as soon as he'd been brought in for treatment. He was a mass of bruises and broken bones, and there was more than a little blood; as soon as the speedster was on one of the beds, Elixir had cleared a path to him, placing his hands his roommate's chest and performed what he'd dubbed 'delving'. Though Josh couldn't seem to heal, he still maintained the ability to determine what the problem was. It was worse than massive welts and broken bones... there was internal bleeding and one of Tommy's ribs had bruised his right lung. Delving a person without being able to actually heal him was like a starving man watching a Thanksgiving meal behind a transparent wall. No matter how much he tried to make the problem go away, the gunmetal mutant had been less than completely useless. He'd found out what had happened from Scott and Jean, but had been told to not get involved... it was being handled. Like hell Josh wasn't going to get involved. His next step was visiting Logan, who told him the same thing – something that Josh hadn't expected from the gruff feral who probably had the highest body count of any one at the mansion that hadn't been a former horseman. Push had told him the same thing, though Josh had the feeling that Kyle hadn't been completely genuine. Of course, Billy was as furious as Josh... the twin probably would have been ready to banish Hellion to some hellish dimension because of what he'd done to his brother. Julian Keller had made a monumental mistake the day he beat the living shit out of the roommate of the two people who could most easily turn him inside out. I knew Keller was a complete asshole, but what the fuck? What the fuck did Tommy ever do to him? What the hell has Tommy ever done that warrants something like that? In fact, I bet if any of the students here deserve to get the hell beat out of them, it's Julian. Especially now. “You know what Odine's Curse is? It means you've lost the ability to breathe involuntarily. I'll do that to him. He's gotta sleep some time, right? Or maybe not. Lets see how long it takes him to go insane after I take away his ability to sleep. You know that actually exists. There are people who go crazy and die from it. Like two hundred known cases.” He didn't know what he was going to do once he knocked on Keller's door... he just knew that slapping a cuff on the guy and sending him up to his room without any supper wasn't enough. Julian needed to pay for what he did to a good guy like Tommy – his roommate... his friend... one of the two people he considered the closest thing he had to brothers anymore. Josh came to a sudden halt, staring at Keller's door... really? Already? Where did the rest of the mansion go? He looked over his shoulder to make sure it was still there. It was. He glanced at Billy, “I'd give him Schistosomiasis if I could create worms in a person...” Without another moment's hesitation, he knocked three times on Keller's door not knowing what the hell he was going to do once that prick's face came into view. |
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| Wiccan(old) | Sep 7 2010, 01:12 PM Post #3 |
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Reality Warping
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Billy was silent. Dead silent. The kind of silent that got stuck up in his teeth, tongue shoved against the line where upper incisors met lower, rasping back across the roof of his mouth. He chewed on that silence, jaw muscles working, battling his resolve. This was difficult for him. Responsibility outweighed rage, outweighed this sense of familial protectiveness that ballooned in him, and it stung. Josh’s voice sounded muffled, pounding into his awareness in clipped sentences to which he paid only surface attention. He was terrified to open his mouth. Anything that slipped out of it might take form, punched into actuality by the weight of his anger. For reality warpers control was dependant on emotional stability and there was a very thin border between maintaining that control and becoming a thing all insanity and power, tossed around by possibilities, skipping insouciant from reality to reality. He didn’t want to become that. He remembered the puppet show Wanda had put on, the little versions of their friends and family, dancing with toylike awkwardness. Sometimes that memory pried into his sleep and instead of Wanda he was the one with gossamer strings dangling from his fingertips, alone except for marionettes. Talking someone out of existence was simple and horrible. The harrowing thing was that no one would know. Josh spat I swear to god... I'm gonna kill him, and Billy felt the same words swell in his mouth and had to swallow them, grimacing as if they tasted like bile. Billy was scared to even think it, especially since Onslaught had shaken everything loose. Sometimes, nothing was solid. Julian didn’t know how lucky he was. This inability to act created a similar kind of frustration to what he’d seen in Elixir whilst in the medical bay, Josh stood hunched over Tommy, teeth gritted and trying but being able to do little more than look. He didn’t get this. They’d said his brother had drugs in his system-- that Julian was claiming he’d acted in self-defence. Billy had trouble believing an excuse that had no basis in common sense. The speedster’s metabolism was permanently wired, running hot and burning at such an intense rate that he had to consume about ten thousand calories per day just to break even. Tommy couldn’t take drugs recreationally; they worked through his system too fast. And Julian was an intolerable cock, but he’d never hurt anyone before, not like this. Josh snarled something about breathing involuntarily, and then they were suddenly glaring at Keller’s door, staring at the little one-oh-six engraved in the centre. |
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| Hellion(old) | Sep 7 2010, 01:13 PM Post #4 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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Picking absently at a cuticle, Julian thumbed through his list of contacts, scrolling past names he couldn’t put faces to, numbers he’d acquired at parties or functions or charmed out of at random encounters that had fallen from his memory. Getting a girl to scribble a few digits onto a napkin, juggling bags and purses and acid-hot cups of coffee, was easy enough that he’d quickly lose track of who was who and where he’d met them, and enough fun that he couldn’t quit. Clearing his address book required time and effort he hadn’t been prepared to give… but he was experiencing a boredom so intense he was considering pulling out all of his clothes and rearranging them in alphabetical order by brand, and he wasn’t quite ready to subscribe to his mother’s OCD tendencies. He wasn’t that desperate. In amongst all the randoms were scattered a few that gave Julian pause, some of the boys from the Hills, the partyheads and the racers and all that burning rubber and oil. When he’d been sent here he’d started ignoring their calls, too embarrassed and too angry to talk it out, to explain that his parents had packed him off to a private school for “gifted youngsters”, which in colloquial terminology translated to “mentally impaired”. They’d stopped calling after the first six months of nothing. Regret stained his thoughts, Julian wishing he’d been less stubborn. He raked his hair back, wondering where his old cliques were now, if Lance had killed himself on the road yet or if Vic had ever come out or if Sascha had ever gotten her drinking under control, if any of them still hung out and if they still bitched about each other like they had nothing to lose. If Bailey had ever picked up the pieces of herself and resolved all her parental issues. Reminiscing pissed him off. Pretending they didn’t exist had been a choice he’d made and had to live with. So was acting like a complete brat. The door shuddered; a little triplet of knocks tugging Julian’s attention away from the cellphone. Oh, thank fuck for persistent Irish redheads. Terry’s company was maddening and she was beautiful and he enjoyed the way they fought about anything unimportant, like she was a piece of normality he couldn’t find anywhere else. Julian opened the door saying, “God, you’re a lifesaver…“ and his voice trailed off and his face froze somewhere between relief and surprise. “…What the fu-“ |
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| Elixir | Sep 9 2010, 01:50 AM Post #5 |
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Unregistered
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The scraps of reason that Josh was clinging to completely fled at the first sign of Julian's ugly face peeking out behind his door. Without even so much as a 'hey... how's it goin... I'm here to be the crap out of you,' Elixir planted his fist in the telekinetic's face with as much force as he could muster, feeling his knuckles hit flesh and bone. God he wanted it to hurt... to break his nose in three pieces and send several teeth flying in different directions. He wanted it to be the first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan in Blue Ray and Bose surround sound. He launched his entire body into the room, crashing the door against the wall so hard that the wooden door frame popped as it came dangerously close to being torn apart. Josh advanced on Julian, taking another swing at him without even registering where the hell Julian was in his room. All the anger that had been building in him for months... all the unanswered questions and confusion... it all came to a head at that moment, and Julian was on the receiving end. For a moment, he wasn't in the mansion... he wasn't part of the X-Men. Everything that he had been taught about right and wrong did not apply... all the lessons that Cyclops had given on discipline and what it meant to be a leader had no significance for him. Billy ceased to exist. Logan... Kyle... Terry... they all were meaningless names to him... nothing more. Josh wasn't even sure who he was right now. All that existed was Hellion's face and the fact that it desperately needed to be rearranged. He deserved it after beating Tommy like he had. He knew Julian and he knew Tommy. The speedster was a good man... Julian was an imperious, disparaging, spoiled collection of mutant waste with a silver spoon up his ass. “You piece of fucking shit!” It was all Josh could get out. It was all this fucktard deserved. Julian knew why he was here, and if he didn't, then all that boasting about his intelligence was a pile of crap. |
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| Hellion(old) | Sep 9 2010, 01:06 PM Post #6 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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Cut off somewhere in the middle of ‘fuck’ and ‘do you want?’ Julian caught the blow on his chin, teeth snipping together and his eyes ballooning in dumb shock and his head snapping around so hard something in his jaw cracked. There was a long delay between his nerves registering the impact and pain smearing across his face, the rest of him staggering after, his balance totally gone. Julian couldn’t think; a gauze of Foley’s rage and dull noise blotted his ability to rationalise. He took two more hits, breath struck out of him in grunts, one of the stitches in his cheek popping. Blood coloured his vision. He grabbed for anything—hair, shirt, scrabbling for a purchase—his fist closing around Josh’s collar and twisting, opposing arm wrested around in ungraceful self-protection. A punch glanced his wrist and followed through, clipping his ear, Julian cricking his neck when he jerked away. They spun and careered into the shelves, his elbow smashing up against the stereo and frosting out into white pain as Wu Tang burst out of the speakers. Julian hissed a curse, an assibilated obscenity that was stifled by another violent shove. The shelf shuddered, DVDs and photo frames and books toppling to the floor, music squeaking and skipping. Julian wrenched himself to the side and swung his fist at Josh’s temple, not hearing the dull paper-rip of his shirt tearing. It was messy and vicious, a high school street brawl, nothing in it but anger. Of course it was about Tommy. Of course it was about the kid he’d put in a hospital bed, but this had been a long time coming. Neither Josh nor Julian had ever tried to hide that they loathed one another. This was suddenly more than his inexplicable behaviour. Julian had been aware of the fallacy of his excuse, the stupid uncertainty in him when he’d given it, that inability to justify his actions or contextualise Miller’s nonsensical directions. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t even tried. The things he hated in Foley were pent up and redirected, a frustration brought about by seeing the healer sidle up through the school system, thrown promotions and adoration with an ease that galled him. He was sickened by it. In the shadow of his brother’s successes he had worked so hard to gain similar approval from his parents and he had failed, and failed, feeling second hand and letting that latent arrogance bloat in him to compensate. It was all the same with Josh-- another James, another kid achieving recognition where he didn’t. Adrenaline and fury wrapped together and blistered under his skin. Julian trampled sideways, trying to throw Josh off balance, his elbow hooked and striking at those black snarling features, driving his heel into Josh’s knee, a small shock of nerves jolting through him when he remembered he wasn’t wearing shoes. He’d fight dirty if he had to. There was nothing Billy could do except watch, fidgeting by the entrance, his hands knotted up by his sides. Sparks of electricity droned through his forearms. It took a concerted effort to relax his fingers, to keep that energy from growing into something destructive, but Josh had surprised him, made him stall, extinguished some of his own ire. Something in his friend was changing. He’d ignored it, he’d pretended he was imagining it and that this dermal discolouration was affecting his judgment, that he saw these physical changes and through that expected some mental shift to accompany it… but it wasn’t just that, was it. When Josh spoke there were tiny verbal inflections that were different. Just nuances. Little things. Maybe they were all changing. They’d been through so much crap that the idea of posttraumatic stress was negligible in comparison. But Billy had never seen him attack someone like this before, not with so much rage. Not that he cared enough to stop it. Billy wanted to see Julian spitting blood and choking for breath and half dead just like the telekinetic had left his brother. |
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| Santo Vaccarro | Sep 12 2010, 12:46 AM Post #7 |
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Unregistered
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Santo the giant. Santo the impatient. The annoyed. For some reason there was some punk bitch underclassman student who was for some reason being completely ignorant and just a smart ass. It was a junior high aged kid who could teleport. Santo thought it was a pretty weak ass ability considering he just used it to annoy kids and think he was better than everyone. There was a difference between Santo thinking he was better than everyone else and the kid thinking he was. With the geokinetic he thought he was better and it was usually followed by a huge rock fist. The kid just teleported away. Even though Santo was rock headed he was not stupid. He knew for a fact that the kid was underage and if he laid a hand on the little freak there could be some kind of legal repercussions. That was by far the worst thing about it. Anyone else, any-freaking-body else would have their nose stuck out the back of their head. The young mutant had to… walk… away? The one thing that he had laughed at people for saying; for thinking they were all mighty because they had the self-restraint to walk away from confrontation. Santo was almighty. He knew it because he could throw a punch that you would not wake up from. He had the hands of gods, and what good was it to not use it? There was figurative heat radiating from his body, it was a bad enough day because he was listening to the little punk mutter stuff under his breath and teleport all around him, but he couldn’t do anything. Santo practically stormed down the hall with more force than Katrina, he was sure that half the people tried to talk to him as he was trekking down the hall way. The other half of the kids just went back into the rooms they just came out of or stuck close to the wall. All Santo did was keep his eyes looking down the hallway. He was looking, however he wasn’t seeing anything. It was all outside his problem and there for it didn’t matter it was just something that would get in the way and Santo would eventually snap and take his anger out on that distraction whatever it may be. Santo was just going to sleep it off; sleep was a great way to fix anything. Really anything. It was just a couple hundred feet to his dorm room and his bed. Honestly, he was hoping nothing would come up sometimes things just needed to happen for the sanity of a person. Just so that things would go right for once in their life. As he was walking down the hall of boys dorms, he saw Billy the emo outside of Julian’s dorm? As strange enough as it was, he didn’t think anything about it. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to. As Santo passed the open doorway he heard the crashing of what could only be one thing. A fight, and a scrappy one by the way it sounds. He backed up and looked into the dorm room to see Julian going at it with the golden boy who has been pretty black lately. Santo looked to Billy in disbelief, he was standing there as if he was the worlds worst fucking club bouncer. “Why the fuck aren’t you doing anything you…” Santo didn’t know what to say, but that was his last priority. Instead of finishing his sentence which would end with an insult he decided to rush into this clusterfuck to break it the hell up. |
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| Wiccan(old) | Sep 12 2010, 02:36 PM Post #8 |
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Reality Warping
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It was a stupid thing to hope for, that no one would show up. This thing was already complicated. It was already messy. People had already been hurt. He hadn’t wanted anyone else to get involved, so when he saw Santo galumphing down the corridor all sour-faced and determined he felt a faint nausea kick up in his gut, a worry-surge of split-second uncertainty. Billy slammed his hand against the open door, the outline of his hands blurring with energy. Reality bent, made malleable and compliant, distorting around the edges like the shape of white noise. It trickled up around the doorframe, spiderleg strands crawling along the wood and snagging across the open space, little bursts of bluewhite light catching one another and binding and solidifying into a forcefield. A nerve in his shoulder tickled. He didn’t match the geokinetic’s gaze, averting his attention into the room and onto the scrap, recognising the colourless sensation pitching through his stomach as guilt and trying to ignore it. The sense of right in him lurched, smoothed over by weak justification. Julian deserved this. He deserved it. They’d leave him in here for a week or two and then he’d be out and acting like nothing had happened. It was always the same. Julian was god’s gift to mankind. He was beautiful and perfect and sat upon a pedestal that none of the other students could ever dream of reaching, and if you got in his way then that was your own stupid fault. You couldn’t call Julian a junkie; he wasn’t that common. You couldn’t call him spoilt; he was, of course, entitled. You couldn’t punish him; he never did anything wrong. This system didn’t recognise him for what he was and didn’t accommodate for his startling narcissism, which bordered on pathological. This teenage vigilantism was full of emotion and light-headed injudiciousness, but wasn’t it better? Billy confused himself with reason and was unconvinced but had no other answers. “Don’t.” He glanced at Santo, still afraid to talk, his voice stiff and hesitant. “This has nothing to do with you.” |
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| Elixir | Sep 19 2010, 09:20 PM Post #9 |
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Josh wasn't aware of the sound of fabric tearing. He barely registered the music playing as the pair of them stumbled around the room, fingers grasping whatever the hell they could snag while free limbs flailed trying to hit anything vulnerable. He didn't notice the room temperature air on his bare chest or the dull throb of his swollen lip and the taste of blood on his tongue. The fight wasn't some emulation of a Bruce Lee movie – graceful and amazing to watch. It was a messy tornado of survival that was breaking every overpriced thing it came in contact with. The crunch of plastic or the break of glass was lost on Elixir... only what Julian did and the fact that he had to pay meant anything. A shard of his mind wanted to know why Julian had done it. Wasn't he aware of what had just happened to all of them? Didn't he know how close they had come to losing everything? The Brotherhood was at large. Humans still despised them... many more terrified than they had been two or three years ago. They were surrounded by scores of kids all freaking out over the changes their bodies were going through and the impact it was having on their families and lives. The government had outlawed the overt use of powers and set up prisons specifically made to hold mutants. There was so much around them that needed their careful attention – so much was at stake – their fates hung in such a delicate balance... yet this sniveling, spoiled little cock stain had decided to hurt one of the best mutants of their generation. The rest of Foley's mind pulsated with that single thought – Tommy lay in the hospital while the world around them hung by a thread. Josh didn't want to inflict him with the Ebola virus or give him some other nasty disease... Josh wanted to rip the guy's arms off and cave his head in with his bare knuckles. Staggering back a couple of steps from the elbow Josh received in the side of his face, he immediately lowered his head and charged forward, a yell of rage ringing off the walls as he rammed his shoulder into Julian's midriff and slammed him back against the wall mere feet away, fist after fist slamming into his body without aim. It didn't matter what he hurt, as long as it was part of Keller. A knee followed his fists a couple of times before Josh began to straighten; a clock radio had somehow found its way in his hand. Josh took a swing at Keller, pouring every ounce of strength into driving the device into the other boy's face. |
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| Santo Vaccarro | Sep 19 2010, 11:26 PM Post #10 |
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This wasn’t harmless, this wasn’t fun, there was intent behind the punches, and vengeance behind the kicks. Santo was no one to judge someone for getting into a fight but this was different. He had no clue what had happened, what might have sparked any kind of fight like this in Josh Foley. He was the golden child, teachers worshiped him as if he were some sort of idol. This wasn’t supposed to happen at Xavier’s, this kind of fighting you found in inner city schools. It was what the parents and teachers of those school said plagued their school. Santo was all out for thirty second skirmishes, or minute rumbles. This however was neither, he had no clue how long the fight would go on. Worst case scenario was that Josh Foley was out for more than blood, he wanted Julian dead. There were so many questions, that for a few moments Santo stood in front of the invisible window Billy had created like some dog fight. Why was he helping Josh do this? How long was he going to let it happen? Would he suffer car accident like trauma if he punched him in the head? He had been blind, mostly by awe, disbelief, and denial. Santo hadn’t seen the wall of opaque light that Billy had to create he had been to hung up on stopping the fight. Now he was stuck up against the wall looking in like a poor ass kid window shopping around Christmas time. The geokinetic’s first instinct was to push on the wall. It couldn’t be that strong it didn’t look solid, so he could move it. He dug his feet into the hard wood flooring and pushed with half of his strength. Simple pushing was no way to harness his maximum strength. Hoping this stupid wall would crack and let him into help Julian, Santo clasped his two hands together and clubbed the wall with all of his strength. However this was to no avail. “Don’t, This has nothing to do with you.” The geokinetic looked over to Billy in disbelief, he could still not understand what would allow someone want to induce this kind of violence. Santo didn’t know Billy much but what he did know was that he was a pretty nice guy. Quiet but nice. Now he was seeing a new side of the emo freak. To Santo, he now saw Billy as some kid who would like to see someone fight, see their pain, keep it from stopping. “Are you kiddin’ me? Julian is my friend and I’m not gonna let you bitches kick his ass while he’s defenseless!” Julian told Santo earlier that he had gotten in trouble yet again but this time they strapped a null cuff on him. A bitch move in terms of punishment. If Julian didn’t have that ridiculous cuff on he would have been able to tear Foley limb from limb and then spread those limbs across the country. Heal from that. Santo now looked back at the wall of light; with a new found determination he hit it hard with a right hook then a left and it continued into a barrage of punches. While trying to reach Julian, Santo screamed out in anger, “Let…me…IN!” |
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| Hellion(old) | Sep 21 2010, 12:09 PM Post #11 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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Body parts flailed, hitting shelves and hitting a CD rack and hitting a chest of drawers, hitting bone and cracking against it and rebounding with as much force as it had impacted. Psionics made you comfortable, they made you complacent. Julian relied on his abilities to an excessive degree. He hadn’t had a reason not to. Working out, self-defence, strategy and tactics, they were all second hand, superfluous behind a superpower. He didn’t neglect them but hell, he didn’t exactly need to pay as much attention to aspects of fighting he seldom had to put to use, not when he was a walking powerhouse of raw telekinesis. Julian had always figured that if he ever happened to come up against an individual in possession of an ability that could cut through his TK then a little bit of hand-to-hand was pretty much sand in their face. He hadn’t taken into account the incorrigible wrath of an angry black kid and a big fat null cuff sitting pretty on his wrist. Truth was, the staff gave Foley extracurricular attention. Since he wasn’t much good for anything beyond knitting bone and zipping up wounds and keeping half dead casualties from puking up their gall bladders, he received additional training. Julian worked himself to exhaustion, but without that additional instruction he just didn’t quite cut it, not against the experience gained from personal lessons with Wolverine and Cyclops. Josh was rage-blind and frothing, but muscle memory tweaked his reactions. It reached a point Julian stopped feeling the punches. The pain delayed, pushed out by adrenaline, dulled into a series of thuds devoid of sensation. The body slam winded him; he gulped for breath, struggling to stay upright, registering the furious hits from afar. Julian’s fingers groped air, grabbing for something, anything, closing around something cold, not knowing what it was but intending on hoisting it and hitting out at the healer until everything went white, bursting out into nothing for a split second and dissolving back into the shape of the room in gradients of blistering colour. Blood tangled in his hair, flattening it against his scalp, the radio cracked from the force of the blow, Julian dizzy and reeling. Awkwardly he swung whatever it was he had grabbed—a boot or a mug or a box set or something like that. At this point, he was too dazed to tell. Santo was a gigantic moron. If he really thought that way about Julian then he was pretty much as stupid as he looked. “Defenceless? He nearly killed my brother! You know about that, right? Tommy? My twin? In the fucking hospital?” A panel in the wall next to him domed inwards, becoming immaterial, twisting on the quantum level and turning to glass. He didn’t notice. Maybe it had always been glass. The patterns on the ceiling shifted, infinitesimal undulations in shape and colour and size. Little changes, too subtle to discern. Billy felt it but was too angry to look. His hands were shaking. “I guess it’s alright to walk all over people when they’re not as rich or good looking or well bred as you. I guess it’s fine to get all screwed up on drugs and hit people and act like it’s everyone else’s fault but your own. I guess treating everyone like toilet paper and throwing tantrums and beating someone until they’re puking blood is just fine when your name’s Julian Keller. What the hell are you defending here?” Something resounded with a sickening crunch; Billy cut himself off and stared frowning into the room to see Julian lurch onto his knees, half of his face blooming crimson from a nasty gash on his scalp. A thing in him all conscience and morals jumped up into his throat, pressing him forwards. He nearly dropped the shield. He nearly told Josh to go easy, to leave it, that this was enough, each sentence tensing against his tongue. Every time his lips tightened he saw Tommy, and he couldn’t, he couldn’t stop him, even though he felt sick and shocked at Josh’s fervour, uncertain how far the healer would take it. |
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| Siryn | Sep 22 2010, 06:05 PM Post #12 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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The day was one of those gorgeous ones, with the sun out and some decent heat in the air that you knew you’d be craving for in about a months time. Which was exactly the reason Terry was heading to Julian’s room, rather than hanging out on the lawn or by the pool…Sighing, she flipped some of her hair behind an ear, the bracelets on her wrist quietly jangling with the movement. She’d heard about what Julian had done to Sheperd, in fact she had heard a few takes on the tale but…Shit, something had to have happened, Julian wouldn’t just beat the snot out of someone for no reason at all…Would he? The telekinetic infuriated her. She wasn’t sure if she thought he was the best person she had ever met or if he was really just a sack of shit and not worth any of the time she gave him. But he was her friend, mostly, and you stuck by your friends, didn’t you? Turning the corner into the main area of the boys dorms, the Irish girl halted for a second…Billy and Santo were stood in the corridor outside Julian’s room…For a nanosecond, this sight wasn’t weird as such, but Santo was punching the air and Billy was just…The shouts…There was a fight going on, Terry’s attuned ears could hear it. The CD she was holding clattered to the floor and the redhead raced down the corridor, skidding to a halt between the two boys and looking into Julian’s room, her sea coloured eyes going wide in sock. “What…What the fuck?!” she gasped as she was met with the sight of Josh and Julian, literally trying to beat each other to death, but Julian definitely faring the worst. The room was a wreck, with things scattered everywhere around, as if a bomb had gone off, such was the ferocity of the fight. “Why the hell are you just watching?” she yelled and tried to burst through the door, barely registering the barrier that Santo was trying to punch his way through, bouncing back off it with some force and landing with a heavy thud on the corridor floor. Grimacing, she rubbed her hip, looking through the doorway, feeling sick inside. If Julian was a confusing friend, then Josh was a pretty simple one. No questions asked, Josh was probably one of the best friends she had ever had, even when it came to Julian, as they didn’t argue like a cat and dog and try to rip each other to pieces. Josh had done a lot for her, even if he didn’t realise quite how much she did indeed appreciate the ride out of school to get her things and how he’d help get her null cuff off a little early. But…She shook her head uncomprehendingly as she watched the two boys fight, feeling torn. “Josh…Josh! Get off him! He's nulled fer Christs sake!” she yelled, scrambling back to her feet, hoping to get through to her friend. Her head snapped to Billy and she glared at him. “Why the fuck aren’t yer doing anythin’? Are ye just gonna let Josh batter Julian ter death? How does that make things right?” she appealed desperately, grabbing hold of the reality warper’s arm, giving him a shake. |
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| Elixir | Sep 30 2010, 12:05 AM Post #13 |
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Unregistered
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Julian's room was in shambles, the clock radio lay in several pieces strewn across the floor. Hair products and toiletries rolled around and CD's littered the room – they had almost cost Josh the fight... he'd nearly lost his footing skidding on one. Julian brought something around at him and without even thinking, Josh brought up a forearm to take the brunt of whatever it is. The makeshift weapon slipped from Keller's grasp and still caught Josh on the side of the head, hard enough to make it ring but not hard enough to disable him. Elixir immediately grabbed for the rich kid's arm, yanking with all he was worth to send him sailing into another wall. He followed by jumping at Julian with a ferocity he'd never shown in training. This wasn't a test... it wasn't some simulation Scott had thrown together. This was real... there had been blood spilled and bones broken by this asshole, and one of his friends had been put in critical condition. In his mind, this was more dangerous – more real – than one of Logan's programs. An image of Tommy's grinning face flashed in Josh's head as he rained a series of blows down on Hellion. He couldn't hear the loud bellow of Santo or the desperate cries of Terry to get him to stop... one of his ribs were on fire and his eye was already beginning to swell. None of that registered – it was nothing but static to Elixir. He delivered one more solid punch to the left side of Julian's head, doing his best to climb on top of him and pin him to whatever the hell it was they were on. A black hand clamped over the blow he had just delivered as blood, tears, and sweat slid down his ebony cheeks. His teeth were bared in a snarl as his digits dug into Keller's flesh and hair. “I should kill you, you sonofabitch. I should fucking kill you,” he rasped, a slightly crazed look in his dark eyes. Should he make him puke up his own stomach? Bleed through his skin? Seize up until he broke his own neck? Pump enough adrenaline into his heart to make it explode? No... he wouldn't stoop to using his powers on this powerless asshole. He'd simply do it the old fashioned way... cave Keller's head in with his fist. “Tommy could've died...” |
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| Wiccan(old) | Oct 3 2010, 05:17 PM Post #14 |
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Reality Warping
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This whole thing had a car crash quality. Billy watched Josh both awed and appalled, his stomach twisting in on itself. He felt his shield flicker where it met the doorframe, weakening in time with his resolve. The room was unrecognisable, posters torn and CDs cracked and bed sheets knotted around the feet of bunks, a shelf knocked out of place and hanging crooked and its contents scattered and shattered beneath it. There was blood on the wall. Julian’s face was muddied and swelling. Josh’s was all wrong and unfamiliar, and Billy wasn’t sure if it was damage or the expression. From this angle the healer looked like a stranger. …Josh…? Santo’s punches made him flinch. Through his connection they echoed like static shocks across his nerves. This thing in him braced like some kind of mental block. It wavered, perforated with every wet smack—knuckles against skin resounding sharp and unsettling in the cluttered bedroom—but ultimately held, fastened in place by the image of Tommy’s battered features and the emotion that surged in his veins at the thought. “Are ye just gonna let Josh batter Julian ter death? How does that make things right?” Fingers snagged around his arm and they dug at him like hot little knives, overlong nails nipping through his sleeve. Billy blinked at Terry like she was stupid. He’d barely registered her arrival. He liked the wiry redhead superficially; she’d spent time hanging out with them and lounging in the game room and sometimes she shared their table in the cafeteria, but he’d seen her flit undecided between Julian and Josh, and her allegiances were opaque. Confliction bruised her eyes. He snatched his wrist out of her grasp and studied the look that whetted those Irish blues, and pressed his lips into a hard little line and ignored her. Dull haze rolled along the periphery of Julian’s vision, clearing with another blow, everything smudging and desaturated around the edges. He felt his fists connect, half aware of the way Josh’s teenage muscle felt semi-solid beneath the strikes, far more cognizant of what struck him and only dimly registering them either way. Julian was thrown, flung against the wall, managing a poor break against it; his arm slapping awkward against a poster already ripped along the crease. Josh followed in a flurry and pelted the telekinetic until he sunk, landing on top of him and hammering a nasty smack around the block Julian attempted to fling up. His body slackened and he blinked away black stars, extremities tingling and icy numb. “I should kill you, you sonofabitch. I should fucking kill you,” [Josh] rasped, a slightly crazed look in his dark eyes. “Tommy could've died...” “I didn’t… fucking…” His lips were too wet. He spat blood, tonguing around his mouth, regarding Josh through a puffy eyelid and one narrowed in dull pain. His skull smarted, something sharp beneath it gouging into his scalp, Josh’s weight pressing him into all those broken discs. “Idiot.” He grit his teeth, drunk on adrenaline and mild concussion. “You gonna do it?” He sounded like he’d been chewing on rubber. “Come on then, you psychotic little shit.” |
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| Siryn | Oct 3 2010, 09:04 PM Post #15 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Josh and Julian continued to crash around the dorm room, wrecking it with the effectiveness of a bomb, scattering CDs and books as she stood helplessly in the corridor with Santo and Billy, a barrier preventing anyone from going in or out of the room. The redhead felt sick inside as she watched her two friends at each others throats. She knew they had never really gotten on, but that had never really stopped her from socialising with either. Not that much stopped her from socialising with people, well, a fair bit did but still…For different reasons, she liked their company – Billy also fell under the heading of people she liked, but she was now having some serious conflicted thoughts about everyone right now. Aside from Santo, as, well, not like he could do anything aside from maybe punch the reality warper out… Not a bad idea that… Shaking her head, her wild red hair tumbled around her shoulders and she screwed her face up. “Josh! STOP IT!” Terry yelled at her friend again, trying to get through to him but she knew it was pointless. Her fingers still dug into Billy’s arm and she shook him again but he shook her off, ignoring her and the fury rose inside her. “So yer gonna let ‘em kill each other! You fuckin’ wanker! Don’t yer turn away from me!” she grabbed hold of Billy’s shoulder and yanked at the boy so he was half turned towards her and brought her hand back before swinging it forward, slapping him hard across the face. Terry had been in a lot of fights in school, usually against girls who had a thing or ten to say about Tom or her lack of a mother and to survive, she had quickly learnt how to handle herself in a fight. The girl did not want a fight with Wiccan, but she couldn’t stomach him standing by, letting it happen any longer. “Just STOP them! Please!” Tears sprang down her cheeks as she begged him, her eyes going to the two in the room again. They were going to tear each other to pieces and out in the corridor they were just going to have to watch…She had to do something…. Taking a deep breath, the young mutant filled her lungs with air and shut her eyes, her features contorting as she let out the high pitched screaming of her mutant powers, not caring about holding back, even with people in the corridor beside her. She just needed help and it was the only thing she could do that would bring it at once. The powerful sonic scream reverberated around the corridor, rattling the doors in their frames and shaking the boards on the walls. A cup that had been discarded on the floor shook, cracking as it fell over, breaking into several pieces. Siryn knew the sound would carry throughout the entire school and probably into the grounds, but that was what she was counting on, only whatever help was coming, it better fucking hurry itself... |
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2:47 PM Jul 11