| 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: |
| Threshold; GFL, BH, Sanctuary Mutants. | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Oct 22 2010, 11:15 PM (847 Views) | |
| Freakshow | Oct 22 2010, 11:15 PM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
October 22nd, 2pm. "Don't point your fokkin' tentacles at me, mahn!" Kevin snarled, taking an aggressive step forward, visage stricken with rage. The target of his words was a Cthulu rip-off, tentacles drooping over the nose and mouth of the other mutant, hiding a sharp beak known to the existing forms of his mutation's species. They did not cower or yield, but rather gave a displeased huff. The mutant, simply referring to himself as Humboldt, was at odd with the monstrous megamorph. Kevin wasn't making it any of his business to keep quiet about their discussion. They had only been at it for five minutes. The argument, of course, was over Genosha and the mutants within the country. Humboldt had stated that, given the circumstances of their situation -- including the Brotherhood's -- and the state of Genosha, it would be impossible for them to free them entirely. That was, at least, in the immediate future. "You cannot be so indulgent for Genosha when there are countless others across the world experiencing worse," Humboldt said calmly, making a genuine attempt to control the tentacles on his face. Barely-there brows lifted over the mantle-supported head, eyes of the void looking at the vigorous youth. "At least in Genosha they have food and bedding." "The fok do you mean? They're slaves! You get up every day and get null tech pointed at you damn heads while you lift and move shit!" "Have you heard of the phrase, 'there's no such thing as a free lunch'? Even here in Sanctuary we must work. Sanctuary does not have the resources to wage war on an entire country which has made no politically defiant stance against Magneto. Yes, they have enslaved mutants, but with Sanctuary still under construction and the Brotherhood active across the globe, pooling what remaining resources we have is pointless, just like all that graffiti," Humboldt shrugged, tentacles lifting in the same manner. Kevin bristled. How could anyone just ignore the fact that mutants were being enslaved? If anything, that in and of itself should draw all the attentions of what militant forces Sanctuary had. Their species was being persecuted and put to work for the state, raised simply to be machines. Was that even a life? For Kevin, it was not enough, and for all the other Genoshans that escaped it was not either. Now that they were free, they knew what living was like and for those who remain in bondage. Even though Kevin had explained this, it didn't make any difference to the squid-faced company. "You all have no idea what Genoshans have to go through. You had parents, yea? You got to leave places you didn't want to be at. Genoshans are stuck! They're stuck and they can't get out! The only reason I'm fokkin' here is because of the Apocalypse and it shouldn't take the whole damn world killing itself to free Genoshans! The Brotherhood's done nothing since then!" The potbellied squid mutate narrowed his eyes, tentacles tensing and fingers curling into fists. "Perhaps you should just wait until they can instead of going off for nothing." "We've waited for over a year, squid! And all the while, Genoshans die! If it takes Genoshans to save Genoshans, then so be it! I'd rather die saving them than be held up in a fish bowl where the fish are on the outside!" "You and your freedom league will put us all at risk! You could give away Sanctuary and we could be attacked! Do you think those in power will tolerate reckless children to do that? Absolon will have you imprisoned if you keep acting out like this." Kevin didn't listen. He stopped hearing anything after the word children. It struck him hard, his face hardening instantly, and he became washed in a haze of neon colors. Yellow-green energies poured out of an extra-dimensional space, rearranging molecules and atoms, shifting physiology. His body morphed in a mere few seconds, Humboldt backing away several feet. A heavy tail slammed onto the simulated floor, a humanoid body of pure muscle ridden with thick scales. Rising to ten feet, the slumped and coiled form grew large thorns along its dorsal side, erratically pointing in all directions. Pupil-less eyes glazed over with an orange light were set upon the top of the horse-like face, which moved into a duck-billed snout ending with long, protruding teeth. Triple-jointed arms, long enough to reach the ground at a full stand curled into three-fingered hands, each finishing with nearly foot-long claws. Kevin breathed through the two slits that were the nose of his trollish form, unfeigned by the startling change. New vocal cords released a deep sound, a corrupted gurgle the thrummed inside his throat with a low gigigigigi. ::Say that again!:: Kevin's mind exploded, pushing out against all those in shouting distance. ::Say it! You're out of your fokkin' mind if you think Genoshans are still children because we're young! I've been through twice the hell you have!:: Yeah... Things weren't going to stay civil for long. |
|
|
| Shola Inkosi | Oct 24 2010, 02:19 AM Post #2 |
|
Unregistered
|
Like the volume dial on a radio, the headache in Shola’s temples seemed to pulse louder as his anger rose. This “discussion” had gone straight to hell, and Shola couldn’t see it getting any better. Everyone’s emotions were so loud, and the added pressure was making it difficult for Shola to concentrate. The squidy idiot Humboldt was really pissing him, but Kevin wasn’t helping the situation by shouting either. If he’d known that nothing but yelling would be accomplished here, Shola would have stayed home. The reason for this meeting was to hash out plans of action; a tiny step in the right direction would be enough for Shola. Instead he was being subjugated into listening to a complete dolt superciliously lecturing about something he couldn’t even comprehend. “You do not seem to understand how terrible the situation is.” Said Shola, his jaw and fists tightening. “In Genosha, the cattle have nicer living accommodations. Mutants are used and abused daily. The children are brainwashed, the women are mistreated, and the men are worked to the bone. And yet you have the nerve to tell us ‘At least they have food and shelter’? The ones with your so called bed and food are the lucky ones, if the State does not deem you ‘worthy’ you are cast aside like a defective. I only ask that we put plans into actions, all I want is proof that something will be accomplished. Time after time we are told what cannot be done…tell us what can be done for once Humboldt. Then maybe you would not have graffitied walls in the city.” It was true that this lack of care was causing most of Shola’s resentment, but he also feared what his more “vocal” fellows might be pushed to do in desperation. Only a few weeks ago he’d done his best to cover up an attempt to topple an occupied apartment building. The attack was at the hand of a Genoshan, and that wasn’t what Shola wanted for them. He hated the fact that they’d been reduced to such acts, all in the name of getting the Brotherhood’s attention. Vaguely Shola heard Kevin’s voice shouting passionately. In an attempt to stay civil and on a halfway positive track he said: “Then why can the Brotherhood not concentrate their resources, they are spread too thin. The obvious solution would be to rendezvous here in Sanctuary. Surely attacking a bridge and terrorizing human is not as important as freeing a nation of enslaved mutants. The hell with the city constructions, the new rhododendrons for the city park can wait!” The squid-like creature’s sanctimonious manner really peeved Shola. The way the tubby mutant shrugged looked too smug in his opinion, and his patience was already wearing thin. “And maybe if you had any suggestions to add to the discussion rather than shoot everything down and insult my people, we could all move on. You do not even act like you want to solve the problem…” The headache began travelling from his temples, and into his tensed neck. Everyone was just shouting over one another, and Shola was ready to cut his losses and take matters into his own hands. This fool made it clear that Genoshans would receive any help, or empathy, from him. Shola wouldn’t discuss it any further with someone who couldn’t be bothered to care. The squidy jackass was more interested in kissing his precious Absolon and Magneto’s ass, than actually being productive. Shola was resigning to leave just when Humboldt decided to insult his people. White-blue rage wafted and shimmered above his skin, but not before Kevin’s form was engulfed in some strange energy. That ‘strange energy’ meant that something twice as ugly as squid-face was on its way, and he wouldn’t like it. As if on cue, a thick tail slapped hard onto the floor and an ominous grumble issued from the monstrous creature. A part of (a rather large part at that) Shola reveled as Humboldt recoiled, but the smaller and less vindictive piece knew nothing good would come from confrontation. “Goddamn it Kevin, pull it together!” Though he’d given up hope on ever receiving help from these people, Shola still didn’t want to make enemies. Without any sincerity he added, “Please whatever you do…do not eat him.” |
|
|
| Jara | Oct 24 2010, 07:11 AM Post #3 |
|
Unregistered
|
A city beneath the ocean, and here she was, the cat trapped in a fish bowl. Of course, she wasn’t trapped. As a member of the Brotherhood, positioned in its main branch and able to boast years of loyalty, or whatever passed as loyalty in the changeling’s eyes, she had enough privilege to migrate out of Sanctuary when duties called. Her work kept her outside of the dome’s walls the majority of the time—the Brotherhood still had to maintain its many fingers on the pulse of world events and information outside, troubadours to spread the divine word of Magneto, shepherds to find willing members of their flock, and chevaliers to spread their influence by force. It was for the better. In this developing Mecca for mutants, skeletal spires growing and gaining shape and substance with each passing day, mutant diaspora filtering in from secured teleporting docks, Jara wondered just where exactly everyone would fit. Not in terms of space—no one had real estate claims on the ocean floor—but in the social structure itself; with humans removed, what new strata and prejudices would blossom in their little utopia? Who would continue to crawl at the bottom of the cesspool, and who would rise to dominate? To think that everyone would get along, that everyone was equal, was stupid. In the end, they were all animals, fighting for space, fighting for resources, fighting for dominance. Worse, they were intelligent animals, with a need to reason, understand, comprehend, bringing out labels and castes and inherent hierarchies to establish order and simplicity. How long, Jara wondered to herself, would it be until the citizens of this unrecognized state began to tear each others throats out? Perhaps the next time she came through that dazzling pink doorway, she’d find herself ankle deep in warm blood and mangled corpses, Sanctuary devoid of life, eaten from within. There was no need for worry, though. Jara was as loyal to the cause as ever, indulging in the musings of a cynic. Or a person who knew, quite well, that there was no place for her in a place like this. Assassins and killers were perfect for the front lines, but among others, they didn’t fare well. Remove them from the killing field, they would simply make a new one. It was that knowledge that kept Balam smiling as she wandered the streets of their virgin Sanctuary. SLAM! ::Say that again!:: Kevin's mind exploded, pushing out against all those in shouting distance. ::Say it! You're out of your fokkin' mind if you think Genoshans are still children because we're young! I've been through twice the hell you have!:: The telepathic shouting startled her, causing the small changeling to tense, claws unsheathed from gloved fingertips, fur rippling across olive skin before receding with a growl. Jade gaze glanced around before settling on the hulking trollish figure, his deep wordless snarl reverberating in her ears as loudly as his heated words bounced in her skull. It was facing off with a fish market reject. Ah, conflict. Her day just wouldn’t be complete without a bit of discord. She stilled the grin that wanted to split across her face, instead settling on something more neutral, eyebrows raised in feigned surprise as she altered her course just a bit and neared them. A third man added kindle to the fire, ganging with the larger creature against the smaller, tentacled one. “Goddamn it Kevin, pull it together!... Please whatever you do…do not eat him.” “Que?” Balam asked, placing a gloved hand on her more human-looking compatriot as she imposed her petite self into the foray. She eyed the squid-man, narrowed gaze roving appraisingly over his figure, but not in that coveting sort of way. Something less pleasant. “Do it,” she said, glancing back at the troll-man with a tail-flick. “I’m sure he tastes like sushi, but with less mercury. Maybe he’s marinated himself in his own ink already. I mean, just look at his face. Honestamente, you won’t get many opportunities to dine like that,” she said with a shrug, as though cannibalism were the most normal thing in the world. Ahh, this fish tank was proving to be a bit of fun. "Now, caballeros, can we take this conversation back to the spoken word? You really wouldn't want to see me with a nosebleed." |
|
|
| Koen Taylor | Oct 25 2010, 07:52 AM Post #4 |
|
Unregistered
|
Taylor stepped out into the light outdoors, and althought it wasn't real sunlight Taylor felt on his skin, but it was still heartening to know that despite his recent lack of exposure, he didn't burn in it. Taylor had spent much of his time indoors, working on mostly personal projects, but all of which shared the goal of becoming a more useful and versatile member of Magneto's Brotherhood. He walked with a gauntlet on his right arm, an action he had turned into something of a habit. Though it had yet to prove that it was handy to have on hand, he liked to have it with him regardless. No. He wasn't rationalizing for wanting to show it off. What do you know? He hadn't intended to take a long walk, and he wasn't going anywhere in particular. Just a fifteen minute adventure meant to refresh himself physically and mentally. He hadn't been in Sanctuary for very long, and now that he was outside, he realized that there were stores around. He also realized that it likely wouldn't do well for him to conduct his purchases as he did before. Abusing the power one had was all well and good, but there was always a time and place, and of all times and places, the now and here were definitely the wrong ones. He hadn't even thought to bring his wallet. A shouting voice invaded Taylor's psyche, bringing his idle worries to an abrupt halt. The cyberpath had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, it had to come to an end. Now. Glancing around, he noticed people looking frightened and staring at something around a corner. Looking to see for himself, Savant took in the scene and stepped forward. "She's right. Whatever issue there is here, it can be resolved," Taylor's eyes flickered in Jara's direction. "Without bloodshed." |
|
|
| Freakshow | Oct 26 2010, 09:18 PM Post #5 |
|
Unregistered
|
Humboldt shrugged his shoulders again at the other Genoshan. "Even then, think of the countless other mutants across the globe who have been forced out of their homes and families, living in the streets and garbage. They are alone -- completely alone. How can you not sympathize more than that? You say mutants are slaves, but at least they have a place to sleep with a roof over their heads. All they have to do is work, they don't have to pick through trash in order to eat." Obviously, the two young Genoshans weren't going to pay much attention. Humboldt considered them rather typical and selfish. It was true that they went through that sort of life, but Humboldt had been through what he believed was worse. No home, no family. True abandonment. "Don't you think the Brotherhood would have done it if they could? They're fighting a war -- a war for us! If you cannot accept that then Genoshans will never be freed. Don't you think the Brotherhood should prepare Sanctuary to accommodate the thousands of Genoshans you so desperately want freed before they are brought here? You cannot build a country in a fortnight, lest you want them to become scavengers as all the rest were." Humboldt huffed, tentacles writhing around the base of his face. Kevin, infuriated and shifted into a trollish form, seethed a low hiss and gurgle. He wasn't going to listen to someone who knew nothing of Genosha and hadn't experienced it first-hand. Kevin knew, Shola knew: every Genoshan knew. If he had to show the wounds of enslavement and what he had gone through, then he would. He'd do anything to get the point across. Besides eat people. For some reason, everyone had the habit of confusing him for a cannibal. Humans weren't his species, therefore it would be improper to call him a cannibal for it. And besides, it wasn't like he went around chomping off heads or something... Though the teeth in his current shape could pop more than just cherries. The very notion of Shola mentioning the monster eating the squid, Humboldt paled several degrees, white splotches instinctively coming into life from his chromatophore-laden skin. He recovered quickly, however, steeling his mettle against the creature noe uglier than him. Kevin took a step forward, brushing off Shola's comment. He hadn't lost anything, so there was nothing to pull together. His transformation may've been a reaction to his frustrations, but as much as he wanted to use his triple-jointed arms on the squid, he wasn't going to do it. Before he could reply, however, a new shape appeared on the peripherals of his featureless orange eyes. "Que?" A short, tiny woman said in a language he did not understand. Russian, probably. "Do it," she said in reference to eating. "I'm sure he tastes like sushi, but with less mercury. Maybe he's marinated himself in his own ink already. I mean, just look at his face." Humboldt grunted, chromatophores darkening. "Honestamente, you won't get many opportunities to dine like that." Well... at least someone didn't have a problem with eating things not normally eaten. "Now, caballeros, can we take this conversation back to the spoken word? You really wouldn't want to see me with a nosebleed." And then another person appeared, a scraggly guy who supported the woman's side, beckoning for more civilized mannerisms. "She's right. Whatever issue there is here, it can be resolved. Without bloodshed." Kevin looked at both of the newcomers. They had intercepted any inclination of him actually going to violence, asking for more calm methods of communication. Kevin, however, had no real want to change back. He was more comfortable in this sort of body for any type of confrontation than his human form. Most things always resulted in violence, anyways. ::Unless you have something to contribute to this conversation, go mind your own fokkin' business:: Kevin projected dismissively, his tail sliding along the ground behind him. Proceeding to ignore them, Kevin resumed where he left off. ::We are not children. None of us are, so don't go fokkin' tuning me. I'm not a chop. The Brotherhood could pull itself together if it wanted to. Better yet, train us to do the job! A lot of us already proved that we'll do what is necessary to get ourselves out and I for one will do the same to get the others out!:: |
|
|
| Shola Inkosi | Oct 29 2010, 08:18 AM Post #6 |
|
Unregistered
|
Shola wasn’t sure what he might do if Humboldt shrugged his shoulders one more time. The telekinetic no longer cared if the squid wanted to help free Genosha or not, but the least he could do was show some deference. Humboldt’s smug manner was completely infuriating, he just didn’t understand and he never would. Sleeping in the streets and eating out of garbage cans would have been heaven to Shola, as long as he had his freedom. People with control of their own lives took everything for granted, and Humboldt was no different. In fact, if his gut was any indication, he was a prime example. It was naïve for Shola to believe all mutants would be sympathetic, but the only people who could understand were his fellow Genoshans. “What use is there to fight a war for mutants then!? You say Genosha can never be freed, then WHY does the Brotherhood fight? I would like to know who they are ‘fighting’, because clearly it is not for mutants.” This fool’s blatant disregard was utterly repulsive. “Why do you insist upon finding excuses? I would house all of Genosha’s mutants in my apartment if it meant their freedom, as should any mutant who is sympathetic to oppression. Please leave us alone if you have nothing but negativity to share. We will find a way with or without you, so you are wasting your time and ours.” In truth, Kevin did Shola a favor by morphing into his trollish form. The temptation to squish the thoughtless creature before him was mere seconds away from overpowering Shola’s sensibility. Kevin’s drastic transformation and the interruption of his thoughts quickly snapped him out of it. The shapeshifter was not a telepath of course, but his transformation seemed to open his mind more. Shola couldn’t read his mind, but his emotions where clearer. Violence wouldn’t do anything but make the situation worse, and they couldn’t afford that. Still, it was very satisfying to watch the squid’s face flush of color. Of course, Shola was only (half) kidding about Kevin’s eating of this talking calamari dish, however, a small woman walked into the group practically giving Kevin a recipe. There was no telling who these two people were (or what they had to do with the anything), so Shola didn’t acknowledge the twosome. Besides, Kevin so eloquently dealt them. He didn’t intend to fight anyone anyway, though he might if squidboy continued insulting him. Again, Kevin’s voice boomed within Shola’s skull: ::I'm not a chop. The Brotherhood could pull itself together if it wanted to. Better yet, train us to do the job!:: “Indeed,” cosigned Shola, a malicious smile plastered upon his face. “You are such an adamant supporter for this supposed ‘war’, why do you not volunteer to help fight it. Better yet, maybe we should pull a draft…” That wasn’t what Shola wanted of course, but he’d decided there was no getting through to this naysayer. It may have been a tad vindictive and immature, but he might as well have fun with him. |
|
|
| Ajax | Oct 30 2010, 03:17 PM Post #7 |
|
Unregistered
|
Ajax had a headache. He’d retained a constant headache ever since he’d moved into Sanctuary. He was accustomed to it now. He wasn’t sure what was causing it. He’d normally felt ill like this if he was at sea or in the air for an extended period of time. The magistrates had ordered for Ajax to do some demolition off the shore of Genosha. He was on the boat for a long time and he had become almost too weak to work. Ajax felt grounded, like he always felt when connected to the earth but something was oppressing him. The geokinetic had no way of knowing that he was beneath the ocean. He had teleported in and the area of Sanctuary he resided in was blanketed by an illusionist. The sky was projected to reflect the current condition of the sky thousands of feet above them. Sanctuary, for all intents and purposes was what had been promised by Magneto. They were all mutants living in relative harmony away from human oppressors. Ajax had even met a mutant that could generate visual representations of memories. It was like taking a photograph of something you could remember. Ajax has asked for a copy of a snapshot from his life. It was of his wife holding their newborn son. The Genoshan had kept this memento in his pocket and pulled it out. It had taken up a worry stone effect and the photo was now crumbled and well worn. One thing that hung over their heads, all the Genoshans that had escaped, was that they were living in freedom while they had left someone dear behind to be tortured in the slave camps on the island nation. Word had spread quickly through the Sanctuary neighborhood that there was a disturbance. Someone was getting ready to come to blows and a Genoshan was involved. Ajax wanted to stand next to his brothers if they ran into trouble. The geokinetic hurried to where he had heard the argument was taking place. When he arrived he found that Freakshow had transformed into one of his creations. He was with Shola and together they were arguing with a squid-like mutant. A pair of mutants had also tried to calm things down before they came to a head. Ajax sent a low rumble through the ground. It was mostly noise with a small vibration, mostly to gain their attention. “What is this?” he asked stepping forward. “We left the humans to waste our energies on meaningless mutants who aren’t worth the time it would take to teach them a lesson?” Ajax pointed at the squid mutant who was clearly the target of Freakshow’s and Shola’s ire. “Don’t ever underestimate the pride and power of the Genoshan mutants. We’ve seen the worst the humans have to offer. Each of us has endured more than you could imagine,” Ajax said harshly. “But why not work to free Genosha now, or at least part of them. The Brotherhood killed the Genengineer but that is like trying to stem a river in a bucket. Someone else stepped into Moreau’s lab coat in Genosha. None of us are free, until all of us are free.” |
|
|
| Russian Winter | Nov 6 2010, 04:09 AM Post #8 |
|
Unregistered
|
Mikhail had been wandering around the engineering marvel that was Sanctuary for the past couple of days. He was still a relative newcomer to the city but he was quickly learning his way around. Some of it was force of habit casing a joint and getting familiar with it if he knew he would be there a while. He was aware that this place was a deathtrap. They had placed their eggs in one basket, superhuman transposition, but if there was some sort of major event it would be difficult to get out of here. The same mechanisms that made Sanctuary difficult to find made is a difficult place to leave. Any event here would be quick and fatal unless they had an amazing emergency response team which Mikhail had to admit was possible. The entire city was still shockingly vacant. It could hold vastly more then currently resided there. In fact if proper government rationing was in place Mikhail was convinced it could hold more then it was originally designed for comfortably. He would like to meet a few of the engineers. He personally would have been incapable of such an innovative design but he could still appreciate the craftsmanship. It was not hard for him to notice the large green mutant towering over assorted other mutants. This was not because of the clear physical differences that made the monstrous creature stand out. Mikhail had seen dozens of mutants in Sanctuary with extremely visible manifestations of their personal mutations several more monstrous then this individual. What made this particular mutant stand out was that he was speaking inside Mikhail’s head, quite loudly. Perhaps it was the inactivity of the last few days that drew Mikhail to the argument which he was only hearing half of. He gathered a couple of pieces of information, that this mutant was from Genosha, that he was probably a kid because he vehemently insisted that he wasn’t, and that he had a chip on his shoulder. Mikhail made a beeline for the mutant with the tentacle mouth taking a position by him since he seemed to be standing alone. Tempers running hot like they were it looked like this octopoid might be served mob justice. “Dis is Sanctuary for mutants vhere vee can vork for common good.” Mikhail made a move to throw his arm around the mollusk like mutant and thought better of it instead opting for a supportive hand on the shoulder. “Vee are all comrades here, no?” It was an attempt to establish common ground but his mastery of the English language was giving him a bit of trouble. “Vy don’t vee go inside and talk maybe get drink? I vill buy!” He smiled revealing a couple of gold teeth. He had yet to meet anyone in this newly formed People ’s Republic and alcohol greased the wheels of conversation. “Maybe I arm wrestle vith big man, no?” He nodded toward the hulking monstrosity towering over him. It was added in jest to lighten the mood but in all honesty a little physical activity after the past two days would have been welcome. The drinking would be nice too, there was nothing worse then drinking alone and Mikhail refused to do it. Being completely sober for the past few days was not sitting well with him. |
|
|
| Jeanette Lacroix | Nov 8 2010, 07:30 PM Post #9 |
|
Unregistered
|
Being on active patrol duty in Sanctuary during these premature stages was pretty easy, at least compared to some other assignments Jeanette had had. When she wasn't on shift in a science lab, her task was pretty much just to waltz around the developing community and chat with people. That's about it. Sure she'd wear either her field uniform or some other positional mark that alerted others that she was a member of the Brotherhood and not just a civilian, but it was more symbolic than functional. This job, though seemingly minor, presented her to more faces and personalities amongst Sanctuaries fledgling community than she could otherwise meet, and she secretly loved it. It helped oil the wheels. Having stopped at a food-store on her lunch break, Jeanette had sparked up a conversation with the owner. The mutant, apparently from Greece, was still unpacking the majority of his equipment, but had enough of an apparatus to conjure her a tasty wrapped souvlaki. Chicken, cheese, lettuce and awesome - the thing was delicious. 'I'm telling you, it should be called a Greek Horse - we were the ones that made it, not the Trojans!' he spoke jestfully as Jeanette munched a mouthful of food. 'But...that's a bit self defeating...if you ask me.' she replied, blushing that she was compelled to speak while not having fully chewed her snack. 'It can't be. We should have reclaimed it.' 'But it worked to your advantage now,' Jeanette smiled, 'That was a very sneaky tactic, but you wrote history as to associate the Trojans name with deception, not your own. Does 'Beware of Greeks bearing gifts?' sound familiar?' The shop owner just laughed, his black and silver beard hiding his double chin as he dismissed Jeanette's assertions with a wave of his hairy hand. A commotion in the street outside tore the iridescent mutant's attention towards the window, her eyes spotting Freakshow's transformation and the cultivation of people. Tightening her jaw, Jeanette thanked the shop owner for his hospitality before exiting. Once in the street, her eyes widened as she drew in the impressive breadth of Freakshows transformation. Mutant abilities never ceased to amaze her, and in a young community like this, she could only imagine she was in for a life of surprises. Jeanette couldn't recognise anyone present, but she could tell that emotions were flaring hot. She was a little thankful when a senior aged man, a silver beard grabbing his face, threw his arm playfully around one of the other mutant and seemed to influence the interaction for the better. As she started making her way over, Jeanette begged fate to facilitate his efforts. |
|
|
| Jara | Nov 24 2010, 07:05 AM Post #10 |
|
Unregistered
|
Oh, wasn’t he charming? The leather-faced creature graced Taylor and her with little more than a snaggle-toothed glare and a few choice mental words, each of which were beginning to grind on her nerves, notes plucking all the wrong regions in her head. Jara already had a bit of a predisposition against telepathy—it made her skin crawl, and not simply because there was something else stirring in that crowded and pretty head of hers. She eyed his tail as he slammed it down in a show of territoriality, eyes travelling up his spine, to his neck, and smirked. Perhaps she wasn’t much with her current anatomy, but with a few changes, her jaws would make a perfect fit around the base of that thick skull. When she looked to Taylor, their gazes met for a moment. Combined with his words, she wondered whether the young technopath was trying to talk down the two Genoshans or his fellow Sister in arms. Regardless of his intended audience, Jara flashed him a quick grin, running the hand previously on Shola’s shoulder casually down and back to her side. Her claw nicked a scrap of fabric from his shirt, not that the dingy thing would look any worse for wear with a small tear at the shoulder blade, and smoothly slipped her hands and the little scrap into her pocket. Depending on her schedule, she might pay the young man a visit later. “This conversation does concern me, m’ijo,” she replied pleasantly, even after he continued to rip into the squid man in what amounted to a big hairy tantrum. It was boring. Where were the fangs, the claws, the dazzling displays of powers and lights and carnage? The tentacled eyesore, with all of his reasoning and rationalization, was far from any kind of opponent. Clearly, that’s what this youth was looking for, his fellow countryman more subdued. She interposed herself between the mollusk and the troll, simply strolling into the line of fire. “I don’t like my work critiqued. Not by novices.” It wasn’t about defending a pacifist citizen. Balam, sly yet arrogant thing she was, wanted the focus of ire on her. She wanted a reason to rip into warm bodies, watch blood fall on these ridiculously hallowed grounds. Perhaps it was the effect of the continued telepathy. The hostility of the environment. Pheremones. Boredom. Or just a pinch of personal offense that someone thought her work, by proxy, wasn’t good enough. The troll’s height was surely imposing, but Jara, being the small creature she was, felt hardly fazed. When everyone’s tall in comparison, size quickly stops mattering. “You want freedom for your people? Calling for justice while you hide in this hole? Eres un cobarde. Coward,” she sneered, but still gracious enough to provide translation. “Bottom line is, you ran away from Genosha. You left your family there. And no one forced you to come to Sanctuary. Revolutions start from within, chico, and until you’ve raked up anything near half my killcount, don’t say the Brotherhood isn’t working hard enough. We’ve slaughtered entire towns, poisoned cities… what have you done besides cry and threaten squid-people?” Soon other actors joined this peculiar stage, a dark-skinned geokinetic announcing his presence with a tremor and aggrandizing words of the glorious Genoshan race, an older Russian offering a truce of liquor, and a woman Jara vaguely recognized, perhaps a more recent recruit of the Brotherhood. Since the move to Sanctuary, she did not keep track of new faces as diligently as she used to. The shapeshifter smiled, but her attention remained fixed on the biggest of the bunch. “Sabes cuanto a mutant arm like yours runs on the market? A heart? I mean, just look at you… maravilloso… They’d pay twenty grand for a kidney alone—seen many deals, m’ijo—just hoping they’d get a power like yours. Then snort your powdered bones to cure their cancer. In Genosha, you might’ve been treated like cattle. Anywhere else, you just are. Try being thankful you are here, rather than there, and let the grownups fight your little ‘war’. You’re not big enough yet.” Turning around to look at the aged Russian and approaching, Balam offered him her friendliest, most disarming smile. “I’ll take you up on that offer, старик. The company of children bores me.” |
|
|
| Koen Taylor | Dec 2 2010, 05:44 AM Post #11 |
|
Unregistered
|
Taylor almost laughed out loud when the shapeshifter mentioned proving himself. Was stomping around the street how one went about proving themselves suitable for any task? With a temper like Freakshow's, Taylor wouldn't send him out for coffee. He might kill the barista for looking at him funny. Taylor had sparse patience for the simple minded, and it showed when next he opened his mouth. "You're not holding a conversation! You're just trying to intimidate people you don't like! That's the kind of bullshit grade school kids do!" Taylor was finding this difficult to carry on in an even tone. The genoshan mutants wanted to believe that they were a proud people, but it went beyond that. "You are arrogant. Arrogant, selfish, and short-sighted. You can't possibly believe that your problems are the only ones worth dealing with! What about the mutants of the hundreds of countries outside of Genosha? Should we leave them to rot just because you want to piss and moan?" Taylor had a hard time dealing with such blatant ignorance in a civil manner, and it was showing in his body language, coloring his speech. He almost missed Balam's new position, directly in front of Freakshow. He stepped closer, in case things got violent. Not that he thought she couldn't handle herself (far be it from Savant to believe that Jara was a damsel in need of rescuing), but simply because they were teammates, and he would give backup where and when he could. Nothing so binding as the bond of the Genoshans. Thankfully, nowhere near as blind, either. He couldn't help but realize that she was feeding the troll, almost like she wanted him to get violent. Maybe she did. Taylor certainly couldn't deny the urge to take a backhand the angsty teen before him, but he wasn't sure that was an urge it was proper to give in to. Alcohol was proposed. That sounded much more inviting than a brawl on the street. |
|
|
| Freakshow | Dec 3 2010, 08:09 PM Post #12 |
|
Unregistered
|
"This conversation does concern me, m'ijo. I don't like my work critiqued. Not by novices." The short woman kept talking, her voice pleasant in demeanor but laden with a pretentiousness that made her seem to be projected some exalted status. Even with her putting herself between him and the squid, t was irritating, but Kevin let it slide. He could look over her without any sort of blockade. The growing inclination to bite down on something was beginning to rise up from deep within him, fed by his frustrations with Humboldt and now what seemed to be a half-dozen people infiltrating the 'conversation' they were having. A low thrum came out with his breath, a trickle of black ooze seeping between his pronged teeth. At least there were sane people like Shola around to who actually knew of the troubles of Genosha, who would be willing to fight for Genoshan freedom. The glowing spheres of the troll looked down at the woman as she spoke and sneered, the bristling spikes along the dorsal side of this shape twitching and flexing in growing irritation. Coward? For being unable to have any of the resources to get to Genosha, to over-throw the apartheid, to save other Genoshans? He was a coward for advocating the release of mutants? Had he any less restraint, Kevin would have opened his mouth and bitten her head off at the very word. ::You must not be familiar with what happened on Genosha. We could not free Genoshans and the Genoshans that are free are freed by their own design. We all broke free, fought, and escaped; with eachother or by ourselves, left Genosha.:: The troll released a gutteral hiss. ::I think they call it 'survival of the fittest,' right? We were treated as animals and we acted like animals! I will be the first to admit to that, especially in regards to my namesake. But I'm not going to let some fokkin' cunt stand five feet under me and rag what we've been through, whether you're part of the Brotherhood or not! I have not said they are not working hard, but they have done nothing for Genosha!:: A sudden rumbling through the ground tickled the trollish mutant, barely stirring the thick bones within the heavy legs. Even then, it was enough to shift Kevin's attentions away from the mollusk-faced and make him look towards the originator. Ajax, the un-proclaimed leader of their endeavors. Ajax was better with words than Kevin probably would ever be, be it through experience or simple natural charisma. The dark-skinned man was someone Kevin looked up to and admired, a man who could make the earth crack and tremble with little more than a thought. Kevin gurgled in agreement, but it fell to a hiss once more. ::We are thankful to the Brotherhood for giving us home and house, but I would give that up to free other Genoshans.:: His abominable horse-shaped head shifted towards Taylor, the short woman's companion, clacking his billed teeth together threateningly. Assuming that she proclaimed to be in the Brotherhood, he might be as well. ::We're advocating the freedom of enslaved mutants, what are you doing? We want to ruin the country with the worst human and mutant relationships, but you're too busy breaking bridges, slaughtering 'entire towns', and poisoning 'cities' to face the worst spot in the world for mutants. I am not the coward for standing here, talking with another mutant about this no matter how riled up I get. If he wants to ignore Genoshans, that's fokkin' fine, but if you Brotherhood members are willing to spit on what we're advocating -- freedom! -- then you foks don't deserve any of the good people say about you! The whole world is calling you terrorists and murderers, maybe they're right. Genoshans don't need psychopaths coming to free them, they need liberators!:: The troll shifted forward, towering over the two members of the Brotherhood, uncaring as he propped open his mouth a degree and released a seething hiss. He was an intimidater and in some ways a bully, but he did not act on the instinct to rake their faces off with the gnarled claws at the end of his long arms. A Russian spoke up, barely understandable accent laced with what sounded like the intoxication of vodka, offering to arm wrestle or have a drink. Suppressing the feral instinct to feed, Kevin pulled away, turning his back on the two members of the Brotherhood, the Russian, and squid. He made sure to keep his tail in check, because as much as he wanted to to knock them all over in one swoop he wasn't going to push it. With two members of the Brotherhood there, trouble was sure to follow in some form or another. Kevin stopped by the man who shared his own views, looking down at Ajax and then to Shola in silence. A yellow-green haze grew in wisps around his form, encasing him in a cocoon of color as he reverted back to his normal, human form. Angry and bitter, the youth shot a glare over his shoulder before taking a step onwards, reaching a hand up to rub a frustrated knot in his neck. "I'm going for a smoke," Kevin said quietly, making an excuse to leave without further conflict. <Exit> |
|
|
| Russian Winter | Dec 14 2010, 04:20 AM Post #13 |
|
Unregistered
|
Now that Mikhail was standing in the middle of the crowd of assembled mutants he was able to take better stock of them. As he paid more attention to what was being said he began to see the difference of opinion among those here. The monstrous green mutant was from Genosha and he did not think that the Brotherhood was doing enough to free the mutants enslaved in Genosha. Mikhail could understand the issues the Brotherhood had with Genosha. It was a veritable fortress with people specifically trained to take down mutants. There were much less riskier targets for the Brotherhood Oddly enough he saw some similarities between his young self and this hulking monstrosity. He too had championed the people and sometimes felt like others were not working to the best of their ability for the greater good. He actually thought that he could help this individual and it did seem that in his in your face acerbic way the ‘troll’ was asking for help. Mikhail was not a member of the Brotherhood so he was not as incensed as some of the others present by the comments of the monstrous Genoshan. Still being comparatively new to Sanctuary he had a fair amount of free time and why not use it to help other mutants. He turned to some of the more level headed Genoshans present. “In Russia I vork in intelligence,” he began in broken English. The KGB to be exact. “Perhaps I can help you vith problem.” It was times like these when Mikhail saw the benefit of business cards. This was not the most appropriate location for such a discussion and he merely wanted to give them the opportunity to contact him. The troll was angry as the opinion of the crowd did not seem to favor him but he morphed into a less intrusive form announcing his intent to grab a smoke. Mikhail considered going with him but he preferred cigars and he was sure this kid did not have any. He also thought anything he said would fall on deaf ears. In a similar situation to the young mutant 30 years ago he would not have listened to himself either. A particularly predatory looking female seemed interested in taking him up on his offer of a drink. She tossed in a few words of what he believed to be Spanish speaking in accented English. Since he still considered himself a newcomer to this particular mutant community he was interested in meeting others and potentially making friends. Her stance on the issues being discussed implied that she was a member of the Brotherhood. “I am alvays villing to drink vith beautiful voman.” He answered her with a smile. She could only be described as foxy and Mikhail suspected dangerous but that made her interesting. “There is bar down street vith good vodka.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the establishment. “I am Mikhail but vhen I vork for government I vas called Russian Vinter.” He left out the part where it was the Russian government. It was so long ago it hardly seemed relevant now but a part of him was still attached to the days of protecting glorious mother Russia. He extended his gloved but still chilly hand in greeting to those present. “Drink is still open invitation.” He nodded to the others present part of him hoping that one of the Genoshans would tag along. He was not ready to dismiss their complaints as invalid and wanted to hear their side of the story delivered by someone level headed. |
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Sanctuary Archives · Next Topic » |






2:11 PM Jul 11