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| Topic Started: Oct 28 2010, 12:51 AM (854 Views) | |
| McKenzie | Oct 28 2010, 12:51 AM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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October 11th Cold. That was all the man knew as he came to. He was cold and wet. His head pounded, so much so, that his first action was to use his hands to put pressure on it. Slowly he rose from the wet ground. The tides were rolling in and out, bathing him in cool saltwater. His legs were weak and unreliable as he attempted to steady himself. He winced,looking at the sun. It felt strange, unfamiliar. Adjusting his vision, he looked around. The shore was empty. He wondered if that was normal for this time of day, whatever time that was. Truth be told, the man had no idea where he was. What was more, he had no idea who he was. The breeze cut through him and, as he looked down he realized why. There he was, emerging from the water, naked as a jaybird. There was no one around but, even if there was, the man doubted he would turn and run. He was not modest. Well, that was one thing he knew about himself. He stepped out further into the beach, letting the water recede. The sand revealed the second of the day's secrets. His ankles were adorned with wings, a pair for each. He looked around again. Was this normal ? It didn't seem normal. But then again, nothing did. The man took another step, his new found wings springing into action and taking him a few feet from the ground. "Hey !" A voice came from the left. A man came running up, dressed in a white shirt and a pair of green board shorts. "We've got a problem here," the lifeguard spoke into his walkie-talkie. "Looks like a mutant. He seems disoriented. He might be drunk or high. He's naked...and flying. I'm gonna need some backup." The flying man lowered himself with a sudden clumsy jerk. This was new to him. Everything was new to him. The dressed man screamed to him, talking into some device and speaking nonsense. "You can't be here like this. The beach is closed," the man spoke. The muscled flyer understood none of it. The man flew even closer. Now he was face to face with the lifeguard. "Back away," the lifeguard said. He pulled a stick from his satchel and raising it into the air. The flying man reacted, throwing his hand out to push the lifeguard. The man's hands sent the lifeguard flying. He soared for about fifty feet until he collided with a tree and fell unconscious to the ground. The winged man balked. He was powerful, very powerful. Taking the lifeguards clothes, he dressed himself. The word 'McKenzie' stretched across his back. Suddenly, an SUV came pulling up to where the man stood. "Hands above your head," another lifeguard shouted as he pulled a gun and pointed it at the supposed mutant. It was all gibberish. The winged man walked closer to the SUV, brushing off the bullets that the panicking lifeguard shot at him. He swatted the man away. He too went flying into the distance. Something was going on. The winged man was under attack and he had no way of knowing why it was happening. He walked out further into the beach, ready to defend himself and to hopefully find some answers as to what was going on. |
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| Cyclops | Oct 28 2010, 03:23 AM Post #2 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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"All right, People, listen up," Cyclops said, as he guided the Blackbird towards the location they'd been summoned to. "We're not sure what we're up against, but according to the call, there's clearly a mutant rampaging on McKenzie Beach, not responding to police action. We're going to take him down quickly but carefully. I don't want to make this a war zone, but the description of this unknown is not familiar in any of our data bases, so whatever his motives are, we're going to have to guess." He checked his instruments and said, "We're just about over the area. Phoenix, see if you can get a read on him. Cypher, if we can get him to calm down, try to talk to him, find out what he wants, what's wrong. The rest of us will be on damage control. He's strong, he can fly, and at the moment, he's angry and frightened. That makes him extra-ordinarily dangerous. Be ready for anything." He brought the plane to its vertical landing on a stretch of beach, some distance from the action. Ahead of them were several police cars, the policemen ringing an area but not approaching the man who had shaken off their attempts to subdue him so easily. Cyclops was not even out of the jet before the sergeant who was nominally in charge of this growing fiasco was halfway to the giant black military plane descending from the clouds like the chariot of the gods. "Hey, you the X-Men?" he called. Cyclops hurried down the ramp and said, "Yes, I'm Cyclops, what exactly is going on?" "Well, Cyclops," said the cop, looking at him and the others sideways, not exactly comfortable with all these mutants, but knowing that he and his people were way out of their league with Captain Naked out there. "There's not a lot I can tell you. He's been keeping us at bay, pretty handily. Apparently, according to the Lifeguard he rolled, he rolled out of the water, naked and pissed off. He hasn't responded to any of our orders to drop, and the few things he's said, well, I don't speak whatever it is he does. Never heard a language like that." "One of my team is capable of figuring it out," Cyclops said, "We just need to get him to this man. The report said he could fly?" The policeman nodded, as they headed down the beach, the rest of the team following, "Not well, at the moment, my guess is because his wings are wet. That's why we wanted you here sooner than later..." "Wings?" "On his ankles, little fluttery things that shouldn't be able to hold him up, but do," the sergeant looked over at Scott, "You see why we knew he was one of yours?" Cyclops stopped on the edge of the police barricades and looked out at the man in his ill fitting stolen clothes, pacing anxiously up and down at the edge of the ocean. The man was big, but not overly so. His face was patrician, and arrogant, underneath the fear, and anger. This was not a man who was a common crook or a crazy person. So what was he? "X-Men, spread around the perimeter," Cyclops ordered, "Surround him but at a safe distance. I don't want him to try and bolt. Cypher, stick with me, and stay back until you can establish communication, understood?" They moved towards the trapped man, who watched them from beneath jet black, oddly arched brows. "Sir," Cyclops called, holding his hands up to indicate he had no weapon, "My name is Cyclops. My people and I are here to help you, but we need you to calm down and listen to us. Do you understand?" |
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| Cypher | Oct 28 2010, 03:48 AM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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There was a remarkable difference between simulation and actual field work. After the Void Doug had been working relentlessly to better prepare himself for anything that was likely to come, but as noble as his efforts where they didn't change the logistics. The same trapping that had held him up in the Void were very much present. The young X-man was too emotional, at times too invested, throw into that his lack of physical power and fighting skills and you had a recipe for ending up on a slab in the county morgue. Wanting to be stronger didn't make him stronger and he knew he had a long way to go before he would be mission ready again. Unfortunately life didn't run by his schedule of being prepared. When the call came in about a crazed man, wrecking damage on the coastal beach at first he had thought nothing of it. Another typical day in the lives of the X-men, but then Scott had requested he suit up and join them and when Scott Summers gave a command you followed suit. His mind raced with the wonder of explanations and possibilities as he suited up into the yellow and black X-uniform. Was this a pity mission? Was Cyclops merely trying to boost Doug's confidence by letting him tag along with the big guns? Or was he actually needed? Was Doug Ramsey, resident translator and computer expert, only ever called around when a printer was on the fritz or something needed translating actually needed for an important role? Doug realized he would find out when he got there? There didn't appear time for questions, only actions. They filed into the blackbird and within moments, moments that felt like half seconds they were there. Scott established what was happening, announced their presence and gave out the orders. The frazzled policeman explained the destruction and mysterious culprit behind it and while he talked Doug's roll in this became clear to him. No one could understand the strange language the man was speaking, no one except someone whose mutant gift it was to translate and speak any language. A bit of ego swelled inside him, a bit of pride that came with realizing he could finally do something to aid the team that no one else could. He might even save the day so long as he didn't get killed first in the process. Cyclops gave the order to stay close while he established contact and Doug nodded in agreement. Slowly he began to feel calmness stealing over him, fighting away the bundle of raw nerves, excitement, and terror that had been and usually stayed inside of him. It was the strangest feeling being of actual use, it made things heavier and lighter at the one time. Cyclops began to talk to the dark haired man with the noticeable winged feet. Confusion read across the man's face as he looked at the X-Men leader with both fear and anger in his eyes. Whoever this person was, whatever language he spoke his body language was clear and it screamed out ::Warning:: |
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| Wolfsbane | Oct 28 2010, 04:11 AM Post #4 |
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Wolf Form
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It felt good to Rahne to be included on missions. It pleased the lupine side of her nature, to be useful to the pack, to be valued by the alpha. Of course, rationally, as a human being, she knew that this wasn't a wolf pack, and she knew that Scott would be embarrassed to be considered an alpha. But that's how the animal side of her mind understood things. It was a strange thing, she knew, to see the world in two distinct ways, to understand things both on a human, rational level, and a canine, instinctual level, but that was the nature of her mutation. As far as they knew, the mystery mutant was powerful, and dangerous - and that was all hey knew. That never boded well. At least when it was "We must stop Magneto from robbing Fort Knox!" or "The Hellfire Club is using a doomsday device to blow up the moon!" (whatever it was that villains did), at least then they knew who they were up against, what they were capable of, and how to stop them (more or less). But a complete unknown? That was unnerving, to say the least. As if that would stop Wolfsbane from pulling her weight. Sure, her primary strengths were in tracking, but she was no slouch in combat. Whatever aid she could give, she would. Rahne stayed back, her half-wolf form shifting into place as Scott received the basic rundown from the police officer. A man comes from the ocean naked and angry, with wings on his ankles and super strength in his... well, everything else, apparently? This was... well, at least they knew a little bit more now, right? Cyclops gave his orders and Wolfsbane nodded her head sharply. It was a good plan. But that was no surprise. "Good plan" and "Cyclops" tended to always go hand in hand. She could hear the pounding of Doug's heartbeat, the tense nervousness of his breath - the poor guy was terrified, clearly. Not that she blamed him, really. But he was asked to come along, so that meant Cyclops had faith in him. He wouldn't have asked him along if he didn't think he could handle it. She gave a small smile and a reassuring nod to him, stopping just short of telling him that it'd be alright, and proceeded to walk out to take her part in the perimiter around this stranger. She listened to him intently - memorized his scent, bent her knees ever so slightly to be ready to react at any moment, but otherwise made no threatening gestures, no aggressive signals. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally prompt the stranger to attack. |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Warpath | Oct 28 2010, 05:31 AM Post #5 |
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Unregistered
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Running his hand down the leather of the chair in the X-Jet, James listened quietly as Cyclops briefed the team on what was to come. He had been pleasantly surprised about his inclusion in this mission, but with the speed and urgency to which the X-Men had responded he had a feeling that Scott just grabbed who ever was handy. Not that he minded, he was just happy to be here as reserve muscle in case things went south. James never thought he would say it but he was actually glad to be in spandex for the first time in his life. So far his adventures since rejoining the X-men had been sudden and unexpected and it was refreshing to go into a fight prepared instead of getting shot at in a bar or randomly attacked on a street corner. Donning his mask as they exited the Blackbird, Warpath hung in the back of the group. His massive frame cast a shadow down on the police officer who debriefed Cyclops on the situation. He caught the man giving him a nervous eye and he gave him a slow wink. The cop tried to muster up a nervous smile that ended up looking more like a grimace. Spreading out on Cyclops' order, James got his first look at their target. The guy looked like he had seen better days. "Good luck Doug," Warpath said in a low voice, as he cut around the peace committee in order to circle around their mystery man. There was something about him that James flat out didn't like, a wildness in his eyes that was worrisome. Folding his arms, Warpath tried to appear nonchalant, but every muscle in his body was poised to close the distance between the two of them in an instant and he was sizing the man up as best he could. He just hoped that if worst came to worst the guy didn't have a damn healing factor. Seems like everybody he fought these days had one. |
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| Jean | Oct 28 2010, 02:39 PM Post #6 |
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
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Jean patted James’ shoulder lightly as he gave his slow wink to the policeman. “Don’t give the human a heart attack,” she teased in a low murmur as she passed him on the way to her position. Just like for the police, there was no such thing as a ‘routine call,’ each one was special and different in subtle ways. But more and more mutants seemed to be manifesting more often, each one running afoul of humans and society in general. This was actually the sort of mission she preferred, helping the confused – no human versus mutant angle in sight, just someone in need and a problem that, hopefully, cooler heads could sort out. Phoenix took to the air, rising smoothly off the sand and hovering a little ways off the ground. Gazing down at the stranger, she reached out with her powers. Her brow creased into a puzzled frown as looked into his mind. :: I can’t read his thoughts :: she informed Cyclops. :: It’s strange. He’s not blocking me, he has no shields. And it isn’t immunity, I’m getting something but I can’t understand it. It’s like walking into Hank’s lab and looking at a computer screen of scientific formulae, it means something, but not to me. Emotions are more basic and those, I’m getting. Apart from the obvious: confusion, frustration, and anxiety, I’m not picking up any definite malice.:: She watched Scott show his open hands and move slowly into the stranger’s direct line of sight. :: That’s right. Nice and easy. :: :: Someone get between him and the police, just in case. :: She called out mentally to the others, :: he seems to have a hair trigger temper. :: |
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| Amara Aquilla | Oct 28 2010, 06:50 PM Post #7 |
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Unregistered
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Amara stared forward as Cyclops gave his orders within the X-Jet. They were hastily arriving on their destination as Cyclops gave the briefing; and that much was really all that was noticeable. Her blue eyes darted between everyone in the black bird at the present time, they were all equipped well for the situation, or at least it seemed to be so. As they landed, and the hatch to get in and out of the black bird opened, Cyclops began walking down it.. And before he was even all the way out, another man - who Amara thought lead the current Police Squadron on the scene - had ran up to him. As the man began to explain the situation, Magma knew that they weren't about to be messing with some punk that was freshly out of a mutation that was extremely simple and not dangerous at all; this man with wings on his ankles was probably a full blown mutant, with amnesia or a condition like that. The black and yellow leather suit she was wearing stayed snug to Amara as she looked around a the mutants, and even the police. The police were, quite evidently, the ones that were worried as opposed to the X-Men. Or at least, visibly. Amara glanced towards the omnilingual mutant and smiled a bit. "Doug. Good luck." Her voice was calm and polite, as she quickly turned into what most would call living flame, like a wisp. Flames were now flickering and dancing off of her skin and her suit, and her blue eyes became as yellow as the sun as itself. Her x-suit was still visible, though obviously had a different hue to it. More to match her... "Skin". :: Someone get between him and the police, just in case. He seems to have a hair trigger temper. :: Amara nodded her head. :: Yes. :: She thought, in reply to the redhead, and quickly stepped out of the blackbird entirely. The man was obviously a loose cannon. Amara glanced at the teams leader, Cyclops, as he walked towards the man with his hand spread out to show that he wasn't equipped, and he began to try and communicate with him. Amara thought that was an idea, and she figured that if the man ended up calming down Cypher would make a perfect translator.. But that much was probably obvious, his powers gave him access to all languages that were plausible, even ones that weren't often heard or even heard at all. The police were giving Amara a glare, they were obviously flustered with the fact the one that was approaching them was literally made of fiery. "Do not worry." Amara smiled gently as she took position between the winged mutant and the police officers. They were just as annoyed with the fact that they had to call in the X-Men as their sergeant was; perhaps it was contagious? Amara didn't know, and at the moment, she didn't care... She just knew that her assignment was to protect police, even if they didn't like it. And Amara would comply, they couldn't harm her in the state she was in. |
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| Synch (old) | Oct 28 2010, 07:45 PM Post #8 |
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Ability Synchronization
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This was why Everett had joined the Xavier’s. This was why he had become a member of the X-Men. Protecting those that could not protect themselves was something that he took joy in. For Everett, it was nice to be included on this mission since it had been some time since the last time he had seen any field action. Danger Room sessions were all fun and dandy, but they could not quite compare to the real deal. When their leader Cyclops received the distress call and gave the order for action, he was suited up and ready to head out with the other few that joined in. Everett sat in the X-Men’s personal jet, listening to the rundown being given. Apparently they were going in near blind, something that could potential lead to devastation. But he was confident in the combined abilities of the team. If they could survive something close to the end of the world, this should not be a big issue. Clear cut orders were established. The resident omnilingual was assigned to translating the rampaging mutant’s worlds to make communication possible. The others were to set up a perimeter to keep others safe and block the mutant’s passage. It was simple enough. Everett nodded in acknowledgement as the Blackbird came to a stop at a clear spot on the beach. As the hatch opened, the team spilled out onto the warm sand. Everett was right behind Cyclops. The man was an admirable leader, one that he wanted to be like. Sure he’d had his past experiences a leader, but he paled in comparison to this mutant that he considered a legend. As the police officer explained the situation, Everett began to take up position closest to the ocean shore. There one thing though about their mutant friend that immediately caught the young man’s attention. This angered and confused mutant has sporting a set of tiny wings on his ankles. Had this been a less serious situation, no doubt Everett would have burst into a giggle fit. But instead, he kept composure and focus. There would be time for laughter when everything was over and done with… hopefully. |
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| McKenzie | Oct 29 2010, 10:13 PM Post #9 |
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The situation, as muggy and mysterious as it was, wasn't getting any better. The winged man, now dressed in the fallen lifeguards ill fitting clothes, paced back and forth at the seashore, subconsciously making sure to keep clear of the water's grasp. He felt angry and disconcerted. Whoever he was, or used to be, had to be a man who did not like being without control. Of that much he was sure. The violence he had inflicted, though it did nothing to affect him in any significant way, did enough to get his juices flowing. He balled his fists and walked quicker, trying to decide his next move. It was a difficult decision. With no resources, memory, or clear cut goal, he was at a loss for what to do. Added to the fray was the nagging feeling that the man's body was somehow out of place here. It felt sluggish and heavy, and the man didn't know how to fix it.With confusion brought a feeling of impotence and a frustration that blossomed into anger. He was surrounded now, circled in by creatures that he neither recognized or understood. Some were normal, or the version of normal the man registered at the moment. Other however were monsters, beings that resembled things that further muddied the man's sense of reality. What were they doing ? Surely they were not peaceful. Were they trying to force the man back into the water ? If so, something very primal inside of him told him that he could not allow that to happen. He could not go back there, no matter what. One of them spoke. His infliction was not threatening, but that did little to calm the already frazzled flyer. He wore red on his eyes, something that, for some reason caused the amnesiac's blood to boil in fury. He looked around. There was no exit. His fight or flight instinct kicked in. He would have to make one. Spotting a large rock a few hundred feet away, he whipped over to it. He could tell from their reactions that he was swift, but his movements still felt slow and labored. He grabbed the large stone and, with an easy motion, threw it at the red eyed thing. |
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| Cyclops | Oct 30 2010, 07:15 PM Post #10 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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As they surrounded him, the unknown mutant was getting more and more agitated. Cyclops, while not known to be brilliant in judging emotional response, was however very very good at reading an opponent in battle, and while he did not want this to become a fight, the behavior of the man who stood before them suggested there might not be a choice. Phoenix reported telepathically that she was unable to read his thoughts because of the language barrier, apparently, but that emotionally he was was ready to snap and Cyclops gave a curt nod. ::Keep on him, try and soothe him. I don't like the idea of tampering with his natural emotions, but it may be our only way of getting Cypher in there to talk to him. If you can relay his thoughts to Doug, maybe it will give him a headstart on translation.:: "Cypher," Cyclops said, "Phoenix is going to be relaying the man's thoughts to you. Get what you can from them, and do your thing." The man moved quickly, all of a sudden, to quickly to be human and Cyclops said, "And do it fast." Because suddenly the man hefted a boulder the size of a Buick and hurled it directly at Cyclops. Instantly, red beams streaked out of Cyclops's visor and shattered the stone into dust. Behind them, the sound of the cops cocking their guns echoed throughout the cove, but Cyclops held out his hand towards them, "No! Everyone calm down. Sergeant, pull your people back, now." He turned back to the mutant, "This doesn't have to be difficult, sir. I know you don't understand me, but you need to calm down or we are going to use force. X-Men, if he tries that again, we may need to take him down by force. Cypher, you've one shot at communication. Make it count." |
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| Warpath | Nov 3 2010, 06:29 AM Post #11 |
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Unregistered
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As Cyclops attempted to appease the bewildered mutant, James stood ready to react. His eyes drank in the mystery man's body language, his subtle movements that betrayed so much about him. Even though he moved sluggishly, it was clear to Warpath that the man was more than met the untrained eye. It all had to do with the way he shifted his weight. Even on this uneven terrain he kept his weight over the balls of his feet, and his eyes took them all in with one glance. Peace talks were breaking down, and Warpath cracked his neck from side to side. He saw it in the man's eyes first, a slight tightening around the edges that proved he wasn't listening to Cyclops' negotiations anymore. Then with speed James' would not have thought possible in the man's condition, he whipped over to a rock and threw it at Cyclops. He was quick, no doubt about it. But James was quick too. Ignoring the rock, as he was sure that Scott's optic blast could pound the boulder into rubble, James took two quick steps and leaped at the stranger. He covered the distance fast but even as he jumped he felt the psychic link between the team scream at him to stop. Cyclops was telling the team to stand down through Jean's link. ::Damn, sorry boss. I'm already engaged.:: Flying through the air it was too late for him to break off and if he did he would leave himself way too vulnerable for his own comfort. So he plunged on, the die already being cast. Warpath crashed into the man a second after he released the rock, tackling him about the midsection. "We might have to save the talking for later," he grunted, swinging a fist at McKenzie's jaw. "He may not be that talkative yet but give me a few minutes and he's gonna be singing like a bird." He was gonna get an earful for this back at the Mansion, he just knew it. |
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| Wolfsbane | Nov 3 2010, 08:24 PM Post #12 |
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Wolf Form
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Wolfsbane's first instinct was to rush to Cyclops's defense, to tackle him out of the way of impending doom, sacrifice herself if necessary. But Cyclops, as always, was on the ball, so to speak. He was never really in any danger, never really in harm's way. The day someone could get the drop on him by throwing a gigantic, easily destroyed with a single optic blast boulder at him would be a cold day in hell. And so, her second instinct came up to the metaphorical batter's plate. Charge the man who dared to attack her leader, her "boss" so to speak, her dear friend. Make him pay at the business end of claws and teeth and canine tenacity. But Cyclops said to stay back, to stand down and by God, she was going to do just that. No matter how much every animal instinct in her told her otherwise. Too bad not everyone on the team was as willing or able to follow Cyclops's orders as she was. "J- Warpath! Wait!" she called out, almost slipping his name out, but correcting herself before that happened. But it was too late. James was already engaged, already careening towards the mystery man intent on putting him down. Great. Now this whole bloody thing's gonna escalate even further than it already has, she thought, a low growl rumbling from her throat. Maybe Jimmy could put him down fast. Maybe there wouldn't be a problem. But she'd be ready either way, legs tensed for a leap, claws ready to strike, teeth ready to bite... just in case he couldn't. Heaven help this strange man with wings on his feet if James was hurt, though. |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Amara Aquilla | Nov 5 2010, 05:47 PM Post #13 |
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Unregistered
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Her gut feeling was telling her just incinerate the rock and turn it into something that she was more likely to be able to control - but that would just make things worse. She, likely, wouldn't be fast enough and the lava that the rock would melt into would collide with Cyclops. Magma wasn't going to take that chance. Swiftly, as the rock hurdled toward him, Cyclops blasted the rock to bits with one of his optic blasts. She didn't expect any less from Cyclops - admittedly; he was probably the one that was currently present that could control his powers flawlessly. Or, at the least close to it. Then - Cyclops' voice rang in her head as he shouted for a cease fire, and to stand down. Amara nodded her head, carefully staring at the mutant as he floated in the air. He.. He appeared to be panicking. This was something that Amara could not help with, but... Just the sight of something like that made the blond a bit uneasy. Suddenly, something else came into her view. It was Warpath, who had begun to engage the enemy. "Warpath--!! You fool!" Amara nearly snapped. A cease fire, is a cease fire. That was it. And since Warpath was engaging an enemy that he was expressly told not to.. Well, that didn’t quite bode well for the entire strike team on this mission. Sure, they had numbers on their side. .But this mutant evidently had strength powers, and flight. Amara was willing to bet that with his extra strength, he couldn’t be hurt as easily either. Would someone else really be surprised if he were like that? Amara was willing to bet no. And though she was beginning to back down at first, when Cyclops had made the word.. Now, she wasn't. The blaze the danced on her skin flickered. Her eyes were glowing an orange color - she wasn't quite sure if she should assist Warpath or not. Her head said.. No. Her gut said.. No, though she felt that it was the right thing to do. Warpath was a comrade. However - their commander had told them not to pursue. So Amara wouldn't, at least not until she was told to do so. |
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| Jean | Nov 5 2010, 08:10 PM Post #14 |
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
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Transfer the stranger’s unusual mental patterns to Doug, it was a solution that hadn’t occurred to her but that was Scott’s strong suit, looking at situations from all the angles. Doug’s ability worked with body language as well as verbal language, although they’d never tried this before, it was possible that he could decipher the language of the mind too, in theory. She gave Scott a curt nod of acknowledgement and turned her attention to Doug, drawing part of his consciousness into her mentalscape. Her perception, like his, was split – she was watching events on the beach unfold, the stranger dashing to nearby rocks and chucking a boulder at Cyclops, with Cypher standing nearby and looking slightly glassy-eyed, but at the same time, she saw Doug appear in her mind. They were standing in an observation room that looked like the top of a lighthouse, a circular room with windows on all sides. But instead of looking out over the ocean, they were looking into the vast expanse of the stranger’s mind. :: It’s unusual to see a mind so dark,:: she commented as she looked out into the roiling thoughts, lightning flashes of violent colors, purples and reds and orange, sparked as the stranger reacted to Warpath’s charge. ::Not dark in terms of his intent but in that so much of his mind in clouded. It reminds me of space or the black depths of the ocean, so much writhing in the dark, just out of sight.:: To Jean, the darkness gave to a false sense of vast emptiness, as though he had no memories, she was felt them beyond her reach, locked away. But not all of it was in darkness, and that was what Doug had to decode. :: Don’t worry about the others,:: she smiled reassuringly at Cypher as things began to heat up on the beach. :: Cyclops is counting on us to do our part, he’ll take care of the rest. :: |
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| Synch (old) | Nov 5 2010, 10:02 PM Post #15 |
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Ability Synchronization
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Things could have been going a lot better than they were. No matter how calm or nice Scott spoke to the winged ankle man, his words seemed to go unheard. The man bolted off to grab a large boulder. Once in his grasp he tossed it toward their leader who immediately sent an optic blast to take care of it. It was now all too clear that this guy did not want to hear anymore words, understood or else. He was in the mood for a fight so Everett would appease him. Well, he would have if the order to stand down was not given. Scott was their leader so he would listen without question. He wanted to rush the powerful man, but held back. When the time comes he will act accordingly, but for now he had to wait. Too bad the entire team was not on the same page there. Warpath was in the air and on a collision course with their opponent. “Ah crap.” His actions would only serve to heighten the situation. Everett gritted his teeth as he watched the police officers ready their weapons. Damn, did not need them getting involved. If this guy would attack someone that had presented himself harmless, nine times out of ten he would not have a problem attacking a bunch of guys with weapons. Incase things escalated further; a plan of attack was needed. Everett quickly glanced at all the X-Men that were present. Cyclops, Cypher, Wolfsbane, Magma, Warpath, and Phoenix: each one of them very capable on their own but even better together. And that is what Everett was good at. Bringing together different power sets was his specialty, his mutation. With that in mind he focused his aura on Scott… and the opposing mutant. What better way to get an understanding of someone’s abilities than to take them on for yourself? He was now in possession of powerful optic blasts, super strength, and flight. Everett lifted a few inches off the ground, his eyes glowing red. |
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7:25 PM Jul 11