| 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: |
| Trouble in paradise; Jesse, Freakshow | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Oct 11 2010, 02:56 AM (499 Views) | |
| Jesse | Oct 11 2010, 02:56 AM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
Time of day: 14:03 Place in the timeline: September 24th “I am a member of the Brotherhood, you asshole! Magneto himself gave permission for the transport of these drugs.” She was livid. It shouldn't have taken forty-five minutes to get a stupid half pound parcel from immigration... not when she was a member of the Brotherhood flagship cell with an endorsement signed by Magneto himself. This purple-skinned putz was wasting her time because she had a set of tits and was blond, so she obviously didn't have brains and was probably only in the Brotherhood to suck cock. “Ma'm, I know who you are. I know who signed this, but we still have to get confirmation from the head office. Just to make sure everything is in–” She reached forward and grabbed the man by his shirt, pulling him forward till he was less than a foot from her face. Her pupils turned to slits and canines elongated... there was a cat close by. “I swear to god... if you say 'order' one more time, I will take this fucking ID,” she said, holding up her Brotherhood identification, “And shove it up your fucking ass. Lets see if a square peg will fit in a round hole.” He'd said 'in order' at least seven times already. Several of the guards drew near – the fists of one of them seemed to radiate red light – but the officer that Jesse clutched waved them back. “If you don't let me get the fuck out of here without my package, I will bring my boyfriend down here and he will skin you alive,” she snarled. Before anything more could be said, however, the phone went off... without taking his eyes off Jesse's, the officer slowly reached for the phone, picking it up and bringing it up to his face, “Officer Brummel speaking. Yes? Yes. Very well.” He placed the phone back down on its receiver, “That was from Absolon's office. You're cleared for pickup.” She released him and slammed her wallet shut as the guard reached under the counter and pulled out a small parcel, sliding it across the surface toward her. She snatched it up, muttering under her breath about how wrong it was that a call from Absolon's office could do more than Magneto's signature. No one said goodbye... they were all glad to see the back of her... and not because it was attractive. A few minutes later, she was stepping out into the warm sun, clutching her bag and looking around as she decided where to go next. It was probably best to drop it off at the R&D department of the hospital sooner rather than later, but as she turned toward the direction of the building and started that way, she glanced over her shoulder, noticing something black on the side of the large government building she had just left. Spraypainted in black across the white surface were the words, WHAT ABOUT GENOSHA. “What the hell,” Jesse grumped, feline eyes narrowing at the question. This place was amazing; it impressed her, and she had been extremely doubtful at first. After only a few short months, why would people already feel the need to deface Sanctuary? And what the hell was the problem with Genosha anyway? She spotted a guy roughly a few years younger than her smoking a cigarette nearby, “Can you believe this crap? The place isn't even finished.” |
|
|
| Freakshow | Oct 11 2010, 04:45 AM Post #2 |
|
Unregistered
|
He remembered the fires and he remembered the ruins. He remembered feeling dust against the back of his throat as he skidded down the rock-face, pebbles crashing around him. He remembered rearing his head and throwing it back down at the ground. He still felt the push and tug of muscles upon the human body as it was urged down the esophagus, becoming smaller and smaller as acidic juices melted away at clothes, metal, flesh, and bone. Most of all, he remembered the dark trek. From where the earth was hard and stone, to where the land met the sea. He still tasted freedom. He swallowed it with every breath. Ever since the Apocalypse and his defection from the country of Genosha, Kevin had been free. Free of turmoil and strife, free of forced labor and enslavement. Without the suffocating bondage of chains and omniscient trackers, he was a man without rule and without master. Never again would he endure the punishments of being owned by the state. He would never allow any of his kind to be taken prisoner by anyone. Liberty. It is what he lived for. He had been given a home by the man they call Magneto, the Master of Magnetism and the leader of the Brotherhood. Many called him a sheperd of mutants, bringing those who were lost to their promised land, Sanctuary. And here he was, in Sanctuary. A mutant of freedom. Magneto had given him all that he ever wanted. A true home. A place to live. Even then, this home was sheltered and isolated. That was but a small sacrifice Kevin had been willing to make for the sake of his liberty. There would come a time when he would have to leave this place, he knew, in order to become the sheperd of others. Like Magneto, he would free those who needed their freedom. Mutants persecuted by a lesser species: Genoshans. Someday their time would come to taste freedom. First, Kevin had to learn what it meant to be free and what it was to be in a free society. There were no guards looming over his shoulders, watching his every move and making sure he did what was needed. He was not required to do anything beyond live and breath, but there was a certain obligation he had to pull his own weight. Since coming to Sanctuary he had begun to grow, flourish and rise, but it was slow going. As the tectonic plates shifted and created mountains, Kevin felt a natural resistance to others. Socially inhibited through his upbringing, even more-so than some of the other Genoshans who lived in the same environment, he was constantly frustrated with the way things work. They made no sense to him, which kept him walled off from most others. But over time he did grow. He learned what it was to work with others rather than for others. He had gotten the most simplest of jobs, an easy one that required him only to move rather than lift. To most, it was probably a joke of a job. Nothing more than a tank of muscle and bone, Kevin opted to pull supplies around the underwater biocity. By the own sweat of his back -- free sweat! he worked for no other man than himself! -- he dragged heavy loads, delivering them. A living caravan, he brought that which was needed to all parts of Sanctuary, returning to his own home after work and eating his own meals. A glorified delivery boy. Kevin had himself seated against a wall, his features slacked and eyes closed to savor the taste of taint from a cigarette. Addicted to it for several years, one of the few outlets of relief he got as a Genoshan, he was trying to break the habit. Honestly, he was down to just a few a day. He refused the aid of any healer. Bullheaded, it was something he was going to do himself. The smoke-break gave him time to sit around and view Sanctuary from new perspectives each day. It was fantastic seeing it from different angles. It was clean and fresh, even if it still wasn't fully completed. He had been eying a bit of graffiti sprayed onto the building he rested against, mulling over the black letters and what they meant. Some people had no idea... Honestly, he wished he wrote it himself. What about Genoshan? Don't get him started. Easing up from his seat, butt almost finished, Kevin hitched a brow as a woman's voice complained nearby. He looked towards her direction, making sure there wasn't anything physically wrong, and she looked back at him. "Can you believe this crap? This place isn't even finished." Releasing a plume of smoke into the regulated atmosphere, Kevin scrunched his face. "Buildings can be rebuilt, mahn," he said with his South African accent. "A little ink on the walls isn't going to kill no one. Besides, it's more permanent than papers. Those just get lost on the wind and in incinterators. Some one will have to look right at it when it gets cleaned. That gets the message across, even if it's one person. Someone will know." |
|
|
| Jesse | Oct 12 2010, 12:50 AM Post #3 |
|
Unregistered
|
She blinked at the young man who clearly wasn't from America... what was that? Some kind of African accent? Jesse looked back at the words scrawled across the wall reading over them several times as she thought about the boy's response. He'd expected him to be just as outraged as she was; this was their home... a place away from the humans. She hadn't expected it to be utopian, but she hadn't realized they would be dealing with mutants who were unhappy with the speed at which the Brotherhood movement was moving. Magneto had built an entire city under the water for crying out loud. It was a testament to the things mutants could do under the aid of their own abilities. She finally looked back at the young man as realization dawned on her feline features, “You're Genoshan, aren't you?” She didn't need to be a rocket scientist to put the pieces together – the accent and the sentiment alone were enough to make her suspect his origin. Of course, she'd heard of Genosha and the brutal way it had dealt with its mutant population; the country made the director of SHIELD look more like Santa Clause than anything else. Cries of injustice had filled her ears... claims that mutants were used as labor... stripped of rights... and that only scratched the surface. She'd heard of worse done to the next step in evolution. It made her sick. She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded the boy. He looked to be what... sixteen? Seventeen? Whichever it was... the fact remained that he was not much younger than her. She wondered what kind of atrocities he'd seen, or if he had been sheltered from them, hidden away or smuggled out of the country before he was old enough to understand. Jesse hiked a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the painted words, “You know this isn't gonna make things happen any faster, right? Whoever did that is preaching to the choir. Everyone's doing everything they can.” She regarded him for a few more moments, “What's your name?” |
|
|
| Freakshow | Oct 12 2010, 11:23 PM Post #4 |
|
Unregistered
|
There was a brief moment of silence where the woman from the Brotherhood went through blatant information. As someone who had no issue with the graffiti on the building, even during Sanctuary's ever-growing genesis, it was obvious to follow logical deduction to see that he was indeed a Genoshan. As a Genoshan, there was a lingering guilt that he had. He was free, but his brothers? They were not. How could he have just left them there? Survival of the fittest? Were mutants not superior to such laws? Getting the message across that there were still problems in the world, no matter how good it seemed beneath the sea here in Sanctuary, was vital to the mutant cause. Mutants came from all over the planet to be here, refugees from persecution and bigotry, even enslavement like he. But they were all refugees from something. Someday, they would have to confront those problems and even he believed that Genosha was one of the greatest. Letting the cigarette hang from the corner of his lips, he didn't look at the girl when he responded with a nod. "Yea. I got away during the Apocalypse. Most of the Genoshans here did." "You know this isn't going to make things happen any faster, right?" the woman said throwing her thumb at the graffiti. He still hadn't taken his eyes off it. "Whoever did that is preaching to the choir. Everyone's doing everything they can." "Never said it would get things moving any faster. I think the one who did this is just desperate for attention. I saw a few others on my route today coming here, so it's either one guy trying to get attention for Genoshans or it's a bundle of them. Doesn't surprise me, though. There aren't many places like Genosha. It's one thing American mutants don't get. They get called names, told to leave shops, but they get to go back to their home back to their families and friends. Genoshans have guns pointed at the back of their heads and cold barracks." "What's your name?" Finally, he looked to her, regarding her almost indifferently in the presence of the graffiti. "Kevin Zaan." He used his tongue to roll the cigarette to the other side of his mouth. "Yours?" |
|
|
| Jesse | Oct 15 2010, 12:48 AM Post #5 |
|
Unregistered
|
“Jesse,” she replied. The subject of her name had been touchy for the cartel heiress; it always reminded her of Magneto and the first time they met. She'd been completely disrespectful to the Master of Magnetism, and when he had asked for her name, she'd looked him with defiance in her eyes and said her name was Jesse. He'd insisted on her picking a codename that described her personality or powers instead of using the one her parents gave her, but she had refused. Her parents had been good people, and not a day went by that she didn't miss them terribly. Her name was a link to them. Needless to say, it had ended badly. The leader of the Brotherhood had dragged her off by her hair and thrown her in solitary confinement, approaching her once every three days to ask her what her name was. When she answered with Jesse, he'd left her there for another three days. After two weeks of nothing but darkness and daily bread and water, she'd given in. Since then... when around Magneto she'd gone by Echo... named after her abilities. She still disliked the bastard, but she gave him the respect he commanded and kept a wide berth from him most of the time. Though she suspected that Magneto would have preferred that all those in Sanctuary adopt new names, he obviously hadn't been naïve enough to think he could actually enforce such a law. Those in the Brotherhood still had to use them, but it was a military thing. Many civilians didn't care one way or the other about things like that. They just wanted to be left alone to live their lives as they wanted. “Jesse Milano-Firth.” She looked back at the graffiti, then at Kevin, eyes glancing from him to a nearby bench. “You got a few minutes,” she asked as she made her way toward the bench, “I've heard some of the stuff they've been saying about Genosha, but I wanna hear it for myself. First hand.” She fell to the bench with feline grace, her slitted pupils looking toward him once more, “Did you have a gun pointed to your head? Exactly how bad is it over there?” Jesse had spent a large part of her teens in a very rough environment; she'd been exposed to guns, drugs, violence, and organized crime from a very early age. If Kevin's brief description painted an accurate picture, however, then what a young man like him had to experience on Genosha would make her own past look like a fifties sitcom by comparison. |
|
|
| Freakshow | Oct 16 2010, 03:48 AM Post #6 |
|
Unregistered
|
"Jesse," she replied. "Just Jesse? Aah, I'm thinking about dropping the last name myself. Parents never gave me nothing else," he said, managing a grin with the cigarette in his mouth. "I go by Freakshow, too, in case that was important. It seems to be a mutant thing, yea?" He wasn't exactly too thrilled about the name. Yes, it described his mutation to a T with all the freaky monsters and being huge and all, but the origins of it was bothersome. It was a human guard who found him while escaping, calling him a freak and to stop making a show of it. It was just a moment of spiteful sass that Kevin assimilated the words together into a codename. That was, before he ate the human. He had told his brethren about it and they kept the name. It was appropriate, so he didn't really mind. Perhaps that was all that mattered; it just wasn't a human name. When she tacked on her last name, he gave her a nod, then followed her eyes to the bench. "Yea, I guess I could spare a few. I can't sit around too long. I'm supposed to be moving the next load on through here soon." Surely spending his time with a woman was better than looming around the outskirts of a building, puffing away at a cancer stick. Trailing after her, he lifted a brow. Someone wanting to hear about Genosha? It wasn't too odd, as he had a few talks with some other mutants he worked with about where he was from, but for a random person wanting to hear it first-hand out of the blue seemed odd. Did she work for the police, or something? Settling onto the bench, he leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees. Blowing another plume, he released a slow breath, drawing upon his memory. "Well, I only came to realize how bad it was when I got older. What Genosha does is test infants when they are born: If they test positive for mutations, they are taken away from their family and sent to what I guess you'd call an internment camp. They don't get any parental figures outside of assistance and mutants assigned to caring for them. No love, no caring. We were our own family. No real sense of anything. During that time, we get conditioned into obeying orders and doing work. We're taught to love the work. No real school or nothing. I can barely read... "Once mutations pop up, we get tested. If it is useful to the state of Genosha, then we are put to work. If not," he paused, brow furrowing in displeasure at his own words, "we're either permanently nulled or 'disposed of.' A lot of the kids I grew up with didn't make it through. A fokkin' lot of them. I don't know if they were just nulled or killed, but they were gone. I don't even know what happens to them after they get nulled. Maybe sent to do easy labor somewhere else on the island. Glaring at the ground, he tapped the ash off the end of his stick. She asked if they ever had a gun pointed to his head. He grinned. "When my mutation came up, they didn't really know the full potential of it. First I got set to just pull stuff around, but sometimes I'd turn into something different. They made me change into different things a lot to do different work. When they learned what I could do I got a lot of guns pointed at me, just to make sure I didn't slip out of line; which, of course, I eventually did. "I met a few mutants who were on their second strike. In Genosha, there is a one-strike rule. There is only room for one mistake. After that, you are put in solitary until you are reconditioned enough to move back into society. Those on their second strike, if they act out, they'll be disposed of. A few of them did and then they were gone. But they were always watched and when they talked to me, they told me how things really were. You cannot imagine the unsettling truth of it. You think the world's supposed to be like it is and when you're shown a new vision, it's entirely different. It took me a while to understand what they said. When I did, I wanted out. So I tried to escape. I rebelled when they had me in the quarries shoveling granite or limestone, as it was when they had me using my mutation to my limits. Turns out their bullets didn't fokkin' did nothing to me. Still, they got some nullification tech on me." Kevin shrugged. "They put me into quarantine for a few months. That was strike one." |
|
|
| Jesse | Oct 31 2010, 10:07 PM Post #7 |
|
Unregistered
|
As Jesse sat there listening to Kevin tell him about his experience in Genosha, her face slowly contorted into a mask of disgust and disbelief. She wasn't naïve to think that the worst thing done to mutants was imprisonment, violation of civil rights, and the occasional disappearance of a mutant who got too much attention. However, she couldn't believe that there was a country out there that handled mutants with so much venom. Kevin was describing slavery and torture on scale with Hitler's Germany or the biblical account of Egyptian enslavement of the Hebrews. She marveled at the Genoshan perversity, able to see through their deception. If they had the ability to null people on the outset, they would have nulled all mutants instead of only the ones that caused problems or proved to be of no use. They used mutation as an excuse to breed slaves... pure and simple. It was bad enough to treat mutants as second class citizens the way they were in most western countries, but to pass them off as slaves to be used up and then disposed... it was nauseating. It pissed Jesse off. “Oh Kevin,” she gasped as he paused in his story with his confinement in quarantine. “I'm so sorry... that's disgusting.” She wanted to know about his parents... why they had given him nothing more than his name. Had they been humans that had given their son over to monsters? Were they dead? Had they protected their son? She was afraid to ask... fearing that it would lead to some very uncomfortable places. Despite his somewhat calm demeanor, she could pick up on the pain that still haunted him from those memories. It was times like these that she most loathed her gift. “So what's your mutation? Are you bulletproof? I don't get it... Freakshow? What's that even supposed to mean?” |
|
|
| Freakshow | Nov 3 2010, 06:22 PM Post #8 |
|
Unregistered
|
Kevin shrugged. To him, being in quarantine wasn't unusual. It happened to a lot of Genoshans. They'd disappear for months at a time for one reason or another, or even none, and then they'd come back. They'd be wired from solitude like he had been, but they were either invigorated or reduced to being obedient. "It seemed normal when I was there. There are no rights for mutants. The problem is, is most mutants don't even know that they have no rights. They get food, water, and a place to sleep. It's what their world is like. That's why mutants who escape and are brought back are typically done away with shortly after. They become... a virus, I guess is one way to call them. Spread the idea of freedom of what it's like on the outside. That's how I learned of it, anyways, talking to those mutants." "No freedom, we just worked and breathed." He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette and took another breath on it. "And smoked. That, and fighting other mutants are the few things that got the stress off. They forbid mutant relations, but that rule never really gets listened to. Ajax..." he said, pausing, mulling over his Genoshan superior's history. Shaking his head, he continued on, not wanting to dwell on what could be called frivolous details. He'd been abused and imprisoned and enslaved, it was hard to get more descriptive than that. "It's horrible, yea, but most Genoshans don't actually realize the mess they're in, or they didn't until the Apocalypse. I got out then and so did most of the other Genoshans in Sanctuary. Brotherhood picked us up on an island near Genosha and that's how I got here. Been sittin' around on my ass ever since, hopin' the Brotherhood would do something about Genosha..." "So what's your mutation? Are you bulletproof? I don't get it... Freakshow? What's that even supposed to mean?" Kevin gave a light laugh behind his cigarette. "Freakshow, yea. I didn't even think of it. I got it when I was escaping during the Apocalypse. I got chased into the quarry I worked in by one of the guards. He said something like... 'Hey! Quit hidin' yeh freak! Don't make a show out of this!' I guess I thought I was being funny, but I replied 'Freakshow, I like that'. Kinda stuck, especially after I told the others that had escaped. But, there's an actual reason I get called a freak, besides the fact I ate the guy." Kevin lifted the arm close to the girl, flattening his brow in a moment of concentration. Bright yellow-green energy grew like flames along his arm, sizzling and crackling as matter shifted and was replaced. In just a few seconds, the wash of color disappeared, revealing an entire new limb. Heavy, gnarled brown scales covered the limb, thicker than any normal hide. His fingers had fused together into only three digits, each ending in hooked claws. "I'm classified as a 'megamorph'. I can only turn into a few different forms right now, but I've been working on getting more. It's just hard to break that conditioning... Each one was used for different jobs I was forced to do. If yeh ever see some ugly beastie lumbering through Sanctuary draggin' cargo it's probably me. I'm the only one that I know of. I'd like to do more with my power than just draggin' stuff around, yeh know? If the Brotherhood started doing some training, I'd go free Genoshans." |
|
|
| Jesse | Dec 5 2010, 12:26 AM Post #9 |
|
Unregistered
|
Jesse watched the arm without so much as a blink of surprise, eyes darting from the transformed limb to its owner's face. She wasn't disgusted by the sight, but took the young man's transformation as simply a part of who he was. Nothing surprised her anymore... not when she had lived with mutant terrorists for so long and now was spending so much time in Sanctuary – a city populated almost solely with mutants... some of which much more unique in appearance than simply blue skin or a dinosaur's lower half. “That's an impressive gift,” Jesse finally said as she leaned against the back of the bench. “You're able to come across as completely human if need be, with your mutation just under the surface waiting on you to call it. I know a lot of people around here would love to have that kind of control over their gifts... even if they did live in a city where that didn't matter.” Her feline eyes slid away from Kevin's face as she quickly gazed around the city... it seemed so peaceful compared with what was going on up there. Everyone she could pick up in the surrounding area seemed to be at least somewhat content with the exception of a few here and there. Compared to the surface, it was much easier on her involuntary empathic abilities. It almost felt surreal... as if her view of Sanctuary should be blurred around the edges to denote the dream she felt it was. Had Magneto really pulled it off? An actual paradise? The writing on the wall suggested that not all was well. “Freakshow, huh? Do you prefer to go by that or Kevin? Most of the Brotherhood stand by going solely by names chosen based on mutation and personality. They see birth names as a sign of slaver and discourage the use of them. I know some in Sanctuary feel the same way and shed them when they legally register here.” “And speaking of the Brotherhood... we're kind of swamped with the final preparations for the move, but I know that several squads will be coming back for training after the reorganization, and as soon as that's over, they'll be opening the doors for recruits. Were you considering joining?” |
|
|
| Freakshow | Dec 13 2010, 06:09 AM Post #10 |
|
Unregistered
|
Kevin grunted, barely acknowledging the compliment. He didn't want to come off as a blatant hard-ass or tough guy, though he had a habit of doing it. He rolled on with the subject. "They're lucky enough to be alive. In most cases, Genoshans with physical mutations were put on the chopping block. They weren't 'natural', the examiners would say. Their other power had to be really useful. If not, then they got put down." Looking at his hand, Kevin wondered how many Genoshans had really been murdered. How many? How many children? How many boys, girls, and infants had lost their lives before they had even lived? People like himself, people like Ajax and Shola... Had they even lived a life before escaping? Genosha was a Hell on earth for people with a few different chromosomes. Could the life of a slave be a life at all? Sure, they had interactions with each other, their own individual names and numbers, but a life? A life where you could live? A life where you could love? The idea made his throat sting with bile. He had not even been born until the Apocalypse. He shrugged at the proclamation of names, lifting his cigarette into his mouth for another drag. "Don't care. Anything is better than 'mutie' or 'freak', even if it's another word attached to it. I registered as Kevin, but those who know me have a habit of calling me by Freakshow. I'll respond to either so long as I know they're talking to me." Kevin paused, his blue eyes slowly glancing towards her, his cigarette pinched between his lips. The way she spoke... 'We're kind of swamped.' ... Was she a member of the Brotherhood? All this time, he had been trading his life story with a member of the Brotherhood, the people who did nothing for Genosha? He waited for a moment before responding, mulling on his words. "I ain't going to wait much longer for the Brotherhood to get its gears in order. Been a year and half since I left Genosha and I've done nothing but sit on my ass and pull carts and preach," he drew heavily on the cigarette, flicking off the last ashy ember. "If the Brotherhood isn't done in a few more months, I'm getting the job done myself. I don't need a recruiter breathing down my neck when I could be out saving Genoshans." Flicking the fag away, Kevin stood up. His body became cloaked in the green-yellow mist, mass assimilating into a new form. He grew, his body surging to the size of a large horse, seven and twelve, six legs spanning the underside of the creature. Head lined with hornlets and teeth refusing to align, the brutish beast gave a grunt, shaking its head as muscles rolled with the motions. As the mists dispersed, Kevin turned the ugly face towards the woman, orange eyes levelling with hers. ::When the Brotherhood wants to save Genoshans, I'll help them, but I'm not going to become a murderer.:: Kevin's voice projected telepathically, carrying with it a tone of bitterness. ::I may turn into monsters, but I will not become one. I will not live as I was treated. Only the human Genoshans...:: The monstrous form clapped its jaws together, shovel-like teeth and fangs clicking at odd angles. With an audible grunt and rumble of the throat, Kevin turned away and refused to dwell on the subject any longer, walking slowly as its four forelimbs managed to walk without grazing each other, claws splaying each time they came to rest on the ground. ::Thanks for the smoke.:: |
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Sanctuary Archives · Next Topic » |






2:11 PM Jul 11