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Who Do You Trust?; The Answer Should be Nobody
Topic Started: Jun 5 2012, 07:34 PM (576 Views)
Queen Veranke
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It's Good to be the Queen
JP Alix and Jamie

As per the usual, Alix was working to the point of nearly overwhelming herself. The case with the heads, and then the subsequent attack on Layla and Kyle left her worried and, more than she wanted to admit, a little suspicious of someone actually part of the group.

Box's secruity systems wouldn't allow someone it didn't recognize into the building. So, if the attack had happened in their own home.. then, frankly.. who else could it have been outside of their own? And if that was the case, then who could it be? It was in that realization that Alix had started searching into things. Carefully, methodologically-- whoever it was had to have known that Alix would know and figure out the facts, that she'd be a part of the whole realization.

Which was why more so than even usual she'd taken up Jamie's office. He of course never minded when she did and while she tended to use the bedroom more often than the office, shaking it up a little-- along with the records that were in the office-- mad it all the more logical. Still. As a precaution, she'd locked the door. Whatever research she was doing was limited to her this time.

Across the room the door handle jiggled slightly…quietly…and then stopped. There was a pause before the handle turned again, this time all the way-allowing the door to swing quietly inward. A familiar face peered into the crack of the open door with an impudent grin. “Heeeeeeere’s Jamie!”

Stepping in, he shut the door and locked it behind him, turning to Alix with a smug sort of grin on his face. “How have you been…darling?” A look of mock-concern swept over his face. “What? No kiss for your loving man?”

In a single moment, a few choice emotions crossed over Alix's features-- first, a smile, seemingly believing for just a moment that he was Jamie. Then just a bare twitch of frustration before falling completely into the emotionless calm that had always been something she could do-- but had never pointed toward Jamie with such ferocity.

She was suddenly and completely-- aware that she couldn't speak into his mind. A block against her that could only suggest the worst. Behind the desk, she remained seated, though visibly tensed.

Confusion flitted across Jamie’s face. “Oh! I forgot-you can’t speak into my mind, can you? Not with this,” he said pointing to a band around his forehead with a dry chuckle. “And since the cat permanently ran off with your tongue at such a very young age, why don’t you just sit there, look pretty and listen to me, hmm?”

Pulling up a chair across from her, he took his time claiming the seat. “So here’s the dealio,” he said. “I’m here to recruit you into a business venture of sorts. Think of it like Amway…on steroids. But it’s not a pyramid scheme!” He laughed, his smile fading as he looked into her serious face. “Seriously, how does he put up with you?”

Without the ability to say anything, Alix seemingly was just letting him take his time to do whatever he wanted, speaking and carrying on in ways that were Jamie-- but not at all. She'd long ago learned the subtle differences between Jamie and the Jamies and this one? This one absolutely didn't fit with any of them.

Something was wrong. He finished with a serious face while she remained completely placid. That was, until the contents of the desk flew at him with sudden and violent ferocity.

Simply, she shook her head. Her clear response.

With mild irritation, Jamie pulled a sticky note off of his cheek. The stapler and an assortment of other items had careened off of him violently, but he paid them no mind. “You will cooperate,” he said with undertones of malice. “And do you know why? Because if you don’t you’ll wish all of this was just a bad dream.” Special emphasis was placed on the last two words, and while their importance registered in Alix’s mind Jamie lunged across the desk and took her hands in his.

Two golden yellow eyes looked deep into Alix and the laugh that filled the room was altogether inhuman.

A bare half smirk leveled across Alix's features as he pulled the sticky note off his cheek. Clearly, unfazed, even forcibly so through the mention of the bad dreams that had been plaguing her for months. Even when he took her hands into his, filled the room with inhuman laughter, and shifted his eyes into what she could only imagine was only part of the whole that was this imposter's form.

Well, that answered that question. Her strange eyes lowered onto his yellow ones without the barest hint of concern or worry.That was, until suddenly the desk underneath the imposter violently lurched upwards, knocking him backwards. Sure, she couldn't really attack the way she wanted. But that didn't change that she wasn't going to simply give into whatever scheme this 'Jamie' had in mind.

Genuine surprise registered on Jamie’s face as the heavy wooden desk threw him backward. He hit the file cabinet with a loud metallic clanging sound that brought out an exact copy of him. Four yellow baleful eyes stared at Alix with vehemence, and the two men circled around in an attempt to pin her down.

“This is for the best,” they said in unison. “That way your little boyfriend doesn’t have to get dragged into this mess. You wouldn’t want that.” One of them grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms behind her while the other one stepped up with a Yankees mini bat. “This is gonna sting a little, dittums.” He raised the bat over his head.

It all happened so fast. The desk, Jamie-- and then a duplicate. She dind't quite realize the fact that he'd be capable of Jamie's powers. They stared with vehemence and circled her while her own strange eyes went over the surroundings. This wasn't going to end this way. No way, no how.

Their voices went in unison and Alix stared at each before immediately breaking into a struggle. The yankee's bat went flying, and the Jamie pinning her arms went flying along with the other.

She couldn't say anything still, of course, but a dim salute of farewell was given before she took off, a wake of whatever items she could telekinetically fling falling in her wake towards the locked door. 'Jamie' might've been concerned about keeping things quiet, but that was the furthest from her concerns and, more to the point, was actually her goal to attract as much attention as possible from anyone who was home.

With Box and the surveillance system all gone.. well. There was no other way to go about things.

Picking himself up off the floor, Jamie shook his head. “Nobody’s home,” he said. “Make all the noise you want.” He pulled out his phone, and held it up. “But you might want to take a look at this first.” On the screen was a picture of Jamie, sitting in a chair with a confused look on his face. Standing behind him in terrorist fashion was a man with a hood over his head. The gun held against Jamie’s skull glimmered in the harsh lighting. “Do you know how easy it would be to finish this? One call, that’s all it would take…and his life is forfeit.”

The two men stood up, slower this time, and stepped in front of her. Holding up the phone, he rested his thumb on the call button. “You come with us, or I press this button. What do you say, sugar?”

She stopped midtrack.

Somehow, she should've guessed it'd come to this. No one home; of course. They were probably all out working on whatever else had happened. Box-- who would've normally been there-- had left. No Ilsa, no cameras. Nothing. Her eyes narrowed pointedly between each Jamie in a last moment of defiance, threw the duplicate across the room. Wordlessly, of course. She held up her hands in defeat, eyes on the imposter throughout. It was shamefully easy but at the risk of Jamie's life, she'd have gladly given up more than just.. whatever this was.

But that didn't mean she'd not do her best to leave clues. Both Jamie imposters clearly had no clue on telepathy or what was going on, so in a effort, she sent out a blanket telepathic message.

Much like Layla had-- aware of Kyle and the other's super senses, she did the best she could to leave clues.

::Monet. I don't know if you can pick this up.. but something's up. Only trust Prime. He's in trouble, I believe. I don't know where. Don't look for me, I've got this under control.::

With a malevolent smile the dupe urged her forward while the other one pulled something out of a desk drawer. “Aww, such a pouty face,” the multiple said with a mocking frown. He put his fingers on her cheeks and squeezed, making her lips puff out like a fish. “Don’t be said little girl. You have been chosen.” Forcing her mouth to move he spoke in a high falsetto. “Thank you for choosing me,” he said while making her lip-synch. “You can thank me later,” he said.

The other dupe pulled the trigger just as the first one let go of her. Two thin wires shot out and stuck to her, delivering thousands of volts of incapacitating current to the lovely young Alix that kept her twitching for a few moments after she hit the floor. The dupes looked at each other. “This one will be very useful,” one said to the other. The other nodded. “The Queen will be pleased.”

They picked her up and carried her out the door.
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Queen Veranke
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It's Good to be the Queen
15th April; 5:15 PM

JP Rogue and Cloak



Rogue pushed monstrous palm fronds away from her face as she moved through the jungle. She was covered in sweat as her heart raced. She and Cloak had moved out in a search pattern from the point where she last saw the girls. “This is where we stopped for a water break,” she said pointing to the three sets of footprints in the mud. “Ah swear, Ah didn’t leave them alone for very long. We heard a noise and it sounded like a predator. Ah told them to stand very still while Ah checked it out. If somethin’s happened…” her voice quavered.

Rogue pushed a clump of slick hair away from her forehead and back into her ponytail. She looked weak with fear and the fact that she had run from the jungle to get help. Rogue didn’t remain behind. She had to be part of the group. She had told everyone that she feared the worst. It was all her fault.

Cloak kept alongside of Rogue, his chalk white eyes surveyed everything that crossed their paths for signs of the missing children, so far the search had revealed nothing, a heavy feeling filled Cloak’s proverbial belly. “Don’t worry we’ll find them, the kids are pretty smart.” Cloak didn’t need to be a mind reader to tell that Rogue was beating herself up over it. With this part of the search pattern finished, Cloak pushed off towards the next section of the search grid.

“What were you doing this far out anyway? I didn’t know there were any trips out scheduled.” Cloak didn’t really keep up with what the youngest students did, he didn’t like to interfere as he wasn’t the best for dealing with the sniffly noses and other issues that the younger kids tended to have.

Rogue moved along to the next sector of the search grid as Cloak edged in that direction. Her green eyes moved quickly at any sign of movement. She strained her ears to try and listen for any sound. The children were smart but every once in a while they could get into trouble over their head. “We were doing a simple map following slash scavenger hunt exercise,” Rogue explained. “Ah use my powers a lot with the students but Ah also try to teach them stuff that they don’t have to rely on abilities.”

Rogue walked forward more in the search for the students. She looked down and could see no discernible tracks. She wasn’t a natural tracker like Rahne or Jack. The swamp rat unclipped her canteen and unscrewed the cap. After she took a drink she replaced it on her hip. She stripped her full length gloves off of her hands. “Ah swear, this power of mine makes jungle warfare tough,” she said with a grin.

Although the timing was poor, Cloak couldn’t help but feel jealous of the kids here, he’d have loved to have had the same opportunities when he was in school. Like Rogue, Tyrone was far from an ideal tracker but he could at least move through the woods silently as the darkforce glided over the twigs and leaves that comprised the jungle floor.

Cloak caught a glimpse of Rogue as she was taking her gloves off. “How so? I would’ve thought that someone with powers like yours would be ideal for jungle warfare.” Cloak was to the say the least a little confused by the revelation. “Hopefully we’ll find the kids without any need of a fight.” Like all searches Cloak was well aware that time was of the essence and if they weren’t found by sun down the chance of finding them alive the next day were much lower.

Rogue fanned herself with her hands in an attempt to cool herself. “Yeah my powers let me use a lot of other folk’s powers so Ah can pick and chose sometimes if Ah have enough prep time. The worst part is the gloves and sleeves. It gets stiflin’ hot sometimes,” Rogue said as she tucked the gloves into her belt. She had walked a bit closing the distance between them. “The worst part is waiting to get up close and personal. But sometimes that can be fun too.”

Rogue rushed forward. The swamp rat had imprinted Northstar’s abilities and she focused her molecular momentum to drive toward Cloak. Her hands were outstretched for Tyrone’s face and her lips pursed to meet his.

What the hell was this? Cloak wasn’t a speedster so he barely had any time to react his darkforce body now losing all shape, his trademark cloak falling to the ground where he stood, the cloud of pure darkness rushed forwards around Rogue, letting her feel briefly the frosty cold that came with coming into contact with the energy. Passing past her the cloud formed up again into the vague outline of Cloak. “Rogue what the hell is this?”

Unsure of what his friend and colleague was going to do next, two tendrils of darkness began to form themselves from within the very centre of his mass, ready to strike out if Rogue continued this assault against him.

Rogue sped right through the swirling black mist as the cloak that enshrouded her target fell down. There was a chill that passed over her body. It was a cold that seeped through muscle and bone. It was a chill that she felt in her heart. She stopped on a dime and pivoted to face Cloak as he formed a rough human shape. Tendrils of his darkforce snaked out from where his chest should have been. “You could have chosen the fun way, hominid. Fun for you at least because Ah’ll enjoy it either way,” Rogue said.

She spread her arms out to the side and activated Jean-Paul’s other mutation, light projection. Rogue, or the creature wearing her skin, sent a full body blast of light at Cloak.

“What do you mean Hominid? We’re both Hominids” Cloak’s tendrils began to snake forwards, all that he could think of was subduing whatever this person was? Cloak hadn’t come across many shapeshifter’s that could replicate complete people. Just as the tendrils were about to attack, Rogue blasted Tyrone with light, cutting through the tendrils with their connection severed to the dimension they came from they quickly disappeared from whence they came.

The blast then slammed into Tyrone, at first he could feel the light being absorbed by his hunger, satisfying him in a way that he hadn’t felt in years, but it didn’t stop. His entire being was now being saturated by the light. At first the effects were only visible at the very tips of his appendages his fingers and toes began to resemble the features of a human again, this transformation quickly spread up, and before long the naked form of Tyrone was stood in the jungle, with his hands covering the necessary areas.

With Cloak’s side suppressed, Tyrone’s old stutter surfaced once again. “R-Ro-Rogue please. You’re me-me-my friend.”

“Ain’t figured it out yet, hominid? What is that phrase you have, ‘One of these things is not like the others.’” Rogue stooped down and snatched up the fallen cloak in her fist. Tyrone was defenseless.

Away from the compound and the rest of the X-Men the creature showed its true colors quite literally. Pale skin darkened into dark green scales. Ridges and fractures ran across the surface of Rogue’s body destroying the smooth texture. The skrull moved forward with its hand outstretched. “You should feel blessed, Tyrone. He loves you.”

Tyrone’s eyes widened with horror as Rogue transformed from the woman he knew to the strange green creature. With his powers gone, all his confidence had been sapped away. His eyes looked darted around the clearing looking for a way out, Rogue had a speedster’s powers though there was no way he could escape.

Looking back to the creature Tyrone, pulled the confidence to speak “Whe-Where’s Rogue? T-The real one?” Tyrone’s site now fell on the cloak within the creatures hands hoping she’d at least let him have some dignity before she was going to kill him or do whatever it was she had in store for him.

The skrull found some enjoyment in the horror behind the mutant’s eyes. The infiltration had been flawless, as if there had been any doubt. Rogue’s powers to mimic others were almost like slipping into a glove. Not-Rogue’s yellow eyes followed Tyrone’s line of sight to the clenched cloak. “Someone else is going to be using this from now on. And Rogue? You might get to see her,” and with that the Skrull pressed the clawed and scaly hand to Tyrone’s face.

Although fear rooted him to the spot, he couldn’t help but ask curiously. “W-why me? I’m unimportant.” This wasn’t just the meekness of Tyrone asking now as far as he was concerned he held no sway over the X-Men as Cloak or Tyrone. Tyrone shivered as the scaly hand touched his face, as they connected Tyrone could feel his energy slipping away from him as the Skrull used Rogue’s stolen powers to sap him of his powers. Without anyway of stopping her, Tyrone rapidly grew weaker from the touch and before he knew it, the world was black and he was sprawled out on the jungle floor, unconscious.

“That’s right, primate,” SkrullRogue said as Tyrone’s powers began to manifest and transform her body into a jet black vapor along the edges and work inward. “None of you are important.”
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Queen Veranke
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It's Good to be the Queen
June 5
JP between Keniuchio Harada and Tessa Ayasli



"Yes my Queen?" Jem replied, having been summoned by the Black Queen. Jem stood before Sage with her head slightly bowed, awaiting a command.

"Fetch me the White Knight. He is somewhere in the VIP section," Sage responded, pointing to a lower level of the club. She sat in an area above the VIP section, with a glass and soundproof window overlooking it all. It many ways, it was like a skybox at a sporting event. It was quiet and serene, with little indication that there was an all night (every night) party going on below.

"Is that all, my Queen?"

"Dim the lights on your way out, dear," Sage commanded before sinking back in the leather chair that she sat in.

The Black Pawn, Jem, did as she was told and left the room, turning the knob on the lighting in order to dim the lights on her way out. She went to the elevator and after a short time, she arrived on the floor that held the VIP area. As the elevators opened, the loud music hit her ears and she winced for a moment until she adjusted. There were quite a few people in the VIP section at this time of day, but locating the White Knight wasn't too hard. There were few Japanese men around, especially ones as handsome as Harada.

"Hello, White Knight," the beautiful Black Pawn said as she approached, lowering her head in respect to his position. She then looked him in the eyes and smiled. "The Black Queen requests your presence in her lounge."

Harada lowered his glass as he turned his attention the Black pawn, while he didn’t have to, he returned the nod. “Good evening Black Pawn, I would rather not keep your Queen waiting then.” Harada placed the glass onto the table where he was sitting before standing. As always Keniuchio was impeccably dressed in one of his tailored suits.

He gestured for Jem to lead the way making sure he stayed alongside the pawn rather than walking in her shadow. Harada wasn’t all that surprised by this summons with Longshot away in England, with his own Queen. Harada had no choice but to do as she bade him.

Keniuchio stepped out of the Elevator into the dimly lit room, his eyes taking several seconds to readjust to the new light levels of the room. “You asked for me Black Queen?” Harada offered the Black Queen a formal bow following his question.

"Yes, come in. Close the door behind you," Sage said, raising a hand to him in greeting but not standing or taking a moment to look back at him. The room was dark, with the flashing lights of the club giving it a bit of a strobing effect. After he had done what she asked, Sage stood and turned towards him, a smile coming to her face.

"I am pleased with how well you tend to your duties, Ken. May I call you Ken?" she asked, crossing the room and putting an empty wine glass down on the counter of the small bar. There was no one else in the room besides the two of them. Leaving one hand resting on the counter of the bar, she motioned with the other, beckoning him to come closer. "Even though you do not owe me your allegiance, I feel like you have given it as freely as Longshot has given his to the White Queen... which I appreciate more than you know."

She turned from him in order to reach across the counter, picking up the open bottle of wine that was there, and then poured herself a modest amount. Sage then grabbed another glass and set it down, raising a brow to him as if questioning if he would like some. Despite his reply, she poured him the same amount as she had poured herself and then set the bottle back where it belonged.

"There are many who are not happy with me not being in my appointed position... and I feel very... vulnerable... without a Knight's protection," Sage continued, sipping at the wine and taking a step closer to Ken. She looked up to him, an oddly playful smile stamped on her face, with the strobing lights of the club causing her dark eyes to sparkle. "Do you ever feel lonely, Ken?"

Ken did as he was asked, closing the door. He folded his hands behind his back, today his luck seemed to be better as the Black Queen seemed to be in a positive mood. “You may call me whatever you wish Black Queen, you are my superior after all. But I am fine with people calling me Ken if you wish to.” As ever Ken’s tone remained respectful. “As you were right to point out when I returned to the club, it was my own fault that you are currently without a Knight and so it is my duty to serve you in the same way that I would until my own Queen returns from her trip. If I didn’t I would be bringing dishonour to myself.”

Sage then offered him a drink; while wine wasn’t his beverage of choice he still accepted it with a slight nod. “Thank you.” Ken waited for Sage to take her own glass first before he reached across to take his own; he sipped at its contents before placing it back down on the bar. “I will endeavour to make sure that no harm comes to you, while you are under my protection Black Queen. I give you my word on that.”

Her next question however pierced Harada’s defences, the change in tact had caught him off guard and he wasn’t sure how to react to it. “How do you mean Black Queen?”

Sage's eyes moved along with his hand as she watched him take a drink and then she took another sip of her own before setting it back down on the counter. She moved the short distance between them, standing so that her body would be just shy of being against his own. As always, her scent alone was intoxicating. With a near endless supply of wealth, she was constantly treated with the finer things in life, which included soaps, oils and perfumes that wouldn't be available to most. While it wasn't overwhelming, her scent was something that would attract most men.

"I just mean... when I was a White Pawn, I saw how respectful you always were to people. Even the pawns, such as myself... you were very nice. I just felt like I could never approach you as I am able to now. Being a Queen has changed my perspective and I have seen how hard it is to always treat your underlings with respect... but you pull it off so well," Tessa said, reaching out to him with her right hand and setting it upon his waist. "I will not lie, Keniuchio. I have been attracted to you since the first word you spoke to me as a Pawn. I had been sent to summon you to Betsy, much as Jem had been sent... and you said 'Good Evening' to me. That was all it took."

Tessa bit her bottom lip for a moment as she finished speaking, doing little more than moistening it as she looked up to the White Knight. She then leaned forward slightly until her body pressed into his as she said, "Anata wa onajiyōni kanjimasu ka?, Keniuchio?" Which means, "Do you feel the same?"

While Ken was most famous for being stoic in his mannerisms, he was ultimately still a man and there was no way he could ignore Sage’s scent. Living his life in the way he has, Keniuchio more often than not lacked a woman in his life, and the seedier side of the clubs activities were of no interest to him. “I treat everyone how I want to be treated, and the best way to command respect from those under you is to treat them with respect rather than an iron fist.”

Tessa’s touch sent tingles up Ken’s arm, it was flattering that someone almost half his age would be attracted to him, part of him longed for the real company of a woman again in his life now that he was settled, and Tessa’s flattery was certainly getting under Harada’s defenses, perhaps he was now able to take up a relationship again.

Club politics snapped him back to the real world, his loyalty was ultimately given to the White Court first, and so liaising with someone from the other court could lead to a whole host of issues that he was unsure if he was prepared to deal with.

“Respectfully Black Queen is this appropriate? While I may have feelings, our positions within opposing courts cause friction for us both?” Deep down beneath Ken’s stoic visage, was a serious frown.

"I am the person who is remembered as an angel within the White Court, Ken. Betsy is my friend... and now I am in command of the Black Court along with Max. There is no friction to be had," Sage answered with a smile, tilting her head up enough to look him in the eye. While she stood there closely to him, she ran her right hand up his back, under his arm, until it was at the back of his neck. Though she sensed his hesitation, Tessa knew that he ultimately wouldn't resist her advances.

"There is nothing to be worried about," Sage said, that right hand resting on the back of his neck. She leaned in close to him in order to whisper into his ear just as Ken would feel something pinch him in the neck, like an insect's sting. She continued, "Because it would not last for long, mutant."

Then with a burst of inhuman strength, Sage pushed Ken away, hopefully sending him sprawling across the room. In her right hand, she held up a syringe, and her playful smile changed into a more sinister one. Her teeth, changed from from to a dull yellow, with each one coming to a sharp point. Though her sudden change was only visible here and there in the strobing light of the room, her green skin was the most obvious change of all.

"Sodium thiopental," the Skrull said, holding the syringe up to him and then dropping it on the floor. "Did you know that it is the first injection made into a death row inmate being lethally injected?" Sage's sweet voice changed to something dark and deep, almost like a growl. "It causes rapid onset unconsciousness."

The Skrull chuckled.

"How are we feeling?" it asked.

Ken’s hesitations had just begun to ease when he felt the prick in his neck, his hand had just lifted to his neck to swat away whatever caused the sting when Tessa’s fist contacted with Ken’s abdomen sending him across the room with a burst of strength that Ken had no idea that Tessa possessed. The very edges of his senses had started to become blurred as the drugs started to take effect, unable to stand.

Harada could only just make out the changes in Sage’s appearance and demeanour as the strobe lighting occasionally illuminated her being before the light faded again in its strobe like pattern. Ken’s mouth was drying out but the only thing he could think of was what that creature was? The drugs were now making concentration impossible for Ken but he was able to ask the one question on his mind. “Why?” Before the world around him faded to black.

"Why? Because..." Sage tilted her head, looking disappointed. "That worked fast. Jem!"

The door opened and Jem stepped inside, the smile never fading as she looked upon the green skinned Queen. She walked within, glancing down at Ken and stepping over him as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "Yes, my Queen?"

"Move him to the secure location. And bring to me his replacement," Sage ordered, turning to look out the glass that overlooked the club. As she did, her skin slowly morphed back to normal. "We have more work to do."

"Yes, my Queen."
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Queen Veranke
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It's Good to be the Queen
Undisclosed
JP Jubilation Lee and Layla Miller



Layla woke. The sun was drifting slowing out of the evening sky. The meds they had put her on had made her sleep and, when she was awake, she was less than lucid. But they would be wearing off now. And just in time. These things, this sequence of events was far from over. This was a juncture point. One of many possible futures could come to pass now. Still, there were certainties. There would be hurt. There would be death. There would be untold stories of bravery and hardships. And before the end, the world would feel the iron fist of their invaders wrap around it's neck like nothing before ever had.

Of course, that was the less pressing of her problems. As she heard the elevator door swing open, right on cue, she noticed the issue that would soon take center stage walking toward her. "So good of you to visit," she said.


It was still hard to believe that Jamie could do something like this. No, that was not Jamie; it was one of his dupes, a dupe that had been replaced by some kind of green skinned creature. It seemed like the world was always in some sort of turmoil. They would never get a damn break. Layla was laid up in the hospital recovering from gunshot wounds and Jubilation wanted to show her a comforting face. The elevator dinged as it came to a stop. The young woman exited, her coattail fluttering behind her, and headed toward the room a lovely nurse had directed her to. Before she even made it there completely Layla was already greeting her. That girl and her knowing. Jubilee smiled as she stepped into the room. “You look better than I thought you would. That’s great.” She closed the door and took up the empty seat next to her bed.


"I can tell," Layla said, sitting up in her bed. "You're practically beaming with approval."

She hated this, the dance, the back and forth. She always just wanted to cut to the chase, to do away with the needless charades.

"Let me ask you a question Jubilee. What brought you here, exactly. And before you start gushing about how much you like me and how happy you are to see that I'm okay, I want you to think about who you're talking to. I'm Layla Miller. I know stuff. So wipe that fake ethnically ambigious smile off your face and face me like a real woman."


Layla Miller. She was a truly annoying little creature. Jubilee laughed. “If you’re as good as you claim to be then you should know the reason. But incase that spill you took knocked a few screws loose, I’ll remind you.” Jubilee stood and walked over to the door. She peeked out of the small window in the middle before locking the door. “I’m here to do what that blundering imbecile could not do.” She removed her jacket with a devil’s grin and stared at the woman still in recuperation. “Is there anything that you would like to know before I continue… assuming that brain of yours doesn’t already have the information?”


"There she is," Layla said, leaning back in the bed. "You know, for all your claims to be so advanced, you guys really are just like humans. One little slight about your aptitude and you're ready and willing to jump off track to prove me wrong."

She knitted her fingers together and sat calmly.

"No sweetheart. If anything, there's probably a few things I could tell you. Of course, I'm probably not going to do that. Also, I want you to think about a few things before you do your little mojo. I want you to think about what you would do if you saw the chessboard. I want you to imagine what steps you would take, what precautions you would set up. I've been preparing for you for years bitch. So come and get me."


An annoying little creature indeed. Jubilee or rather the Skrull that had been living her life for the better part of a year now, T’Vorah, wanted this one dead. But that was not the orders she had been given. Her mission had already been carried out when she “accidentally” destroyed the laboratory of Madison Jeffries. It would have been a bonus if he went the way of the lab, but the others arrived too early and saved him. This here was simply clean up thanks to her comrade’s idiocy. “Chess… a primitive game invented by you creatures to feel better about your intellect.” She slowly folded up the jacket. “My people are far evolved beyond such trivial things. Now… be silent.” T’Vorah pounced onto the bed and covered Layla’s face with the jacket applying a great amount of pressure to cut off her air supply.


The Skrull had revealed itself, proving what Layla needed no proof to know. In an instant she was on the bed, just like she was always going to be. Layla could have stopped this, she could have dodged this bullet. But that would have meant a million different things. It would have meant things would be harder for her friends, for Jamie. It meant the things that had to happen would not, that her place in all of this would be left vacant. She kept that in mind as the Skrull came at her with the jacket.

Before she covered Layla's face, the girl with the M over her eye spoke once more.

"You think this is over? You think you've come in here and beat us before we even started. Let me tell you something little alien scum. The future is tricky. It takes you places no one could predict. And these humans you think you have in the palm of your hand, they're the fiercest things this universe is ever going to know."
Then, she let the jacket fall and let the darkness take her.


If only she put up more of a fight this would have been enjoyable. As she held the jacket over her nose and mouth, T’Vorah closed her eyes. Her skin shifted to its natural green tone with markings that only one of her kind could distinguish, her ears became pointed at the tips, and her chin took on the ridges of the people. When she opened her eyes, they were now a glowing and golden hue. “As irritating as you are… He still loves you.”

Darkness flooded the room.
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Queen Veranke
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It's Good to be the Queen
Undisclosed


Since Xavier’s had been blown up on September 1st 2011, and Theresa had been sealed down in the pitch black of the subbasement level, she had not slept with particular ease. Events since then, such as the Sentinel’s being unleashed on New York City and then the Brotherhood strike on the Worthington Complex where Exodus had mentally attacked her usually attributed to the nightmares, but that day…It usually began with the feeling of suffocation, of airlessness, and then Bridget’s distress call over the phone would replay, again and again. At some unknown point, her deceased friend’s voice would be replaced by a range of people, from her father to Nori to Jimmy to Tom.

Waking up with a start, the redhead sat bolt upright in bed, looking around the room as a cold sweat glistened on her skin. Even at such a height as her suite was in the Complex and with the reinforced glass, she could hear the faint hum of the traffic far below. It was reassuring though, a good sound. It was a sound that meant there was still a world turning. Pulling the comforter up to her chin, Terry hugged her knees; she had left the air conditioning too high and now she was cold, at that point where she did not know if she wanted to struggle out of bed and get a sweater before going to the kitchen, or staying in bed to allow the bad dreams to return. Glancing at the digital clock on her nightstand she saw it was just past quarter past two in the morning. She sighed.



A shadowy figure walked down the halls towards the suit of one X-Man. The figure held something in its hand. A sort of strange goo. It reflected a purple hue in its green scaly hand. The figure had a plan, and the plan must be carried out. This was its mission; take Theresa ‘Siryn’ Rourke. The figure was close to the door, reviewing the plan in its head like a chant. Once it reached the door, it extended and turned the doorknob, quietly, and slowly. The shadowy figure had to be fast in these next few seconds. It could only hope that she was asleep, and at quarter past two, what were the odds of her being awake?

Once the door was open enough for the creature to peak inwards, it saw that the girl was awake. It moved fast, shutting the door behind him and throwing the purple goo at her mouth. One word and the entire complex would have woken up. The goo attached itself firmly to her mouth and wrapped around to the back of her head. A jackhammer would have an easier time prying the good off her mouth. “Theresa… you have been chosen.”


The door to her bedroom opened and expecting maybe Noriko, Siryn turned her head expectantly. Not Nori. Opening her mouth to scream, she was cut off quickly by something slamming into her mouth. Fingers flying to the substance, the girl spluttered and tried to claw it off. Scrambling across the bed, Terry fell to the floor with a hard thud. What the hell? What the fuck was this? This…green…Tommy. Her heart stopped dead and she froze on the floor, starting up at the thing, before springing up on her long legs and bolting for the bathroom door. Maybe she could lock herself in, get that crap off her mouth and…

God her communicator! Stumbling over a chair, she tried to reclaim her balance, wondering what good even thinking about her comm device was when she had no voice, but if she pressed it and kept pressing it, surely that would make people think something was wrong…Turning, she threw herself across the room for her closet.


Step one: silence the girl. Now when it came to step two, the figure had to be flexible. In this case, step two was now to take all forms of communication away from her. The green-scaled creature moved fast as she dashed for the closet, grabbing her by her hair, that wasn’t trapped under the purple goo and pulled back hard. He reached over and took the communicator from her hand. After the creature turned the communicator off, he spoke, “Now now Ms. Rourke. That was rude.”

He pulled so hard on her hair towards him that she was against its torso. The creature wrapped the hand and arm that wasn’t pulling back on her around her body. Keeping a very firm, tight grip on her. “Now, we can do this civil, or I’ll have to get nasty. Which do you want, Theresa Rourke?”



The beast moved quickly, grabbing her and holding tight before she could even get to the comm that was hung with the rest of her stuff. Stupid…She should have left it by her bed. Christ…Pinned against the green thing, all Terry could do was struggle. It yanked her hair hard and the girl made a noise of protest, muffled by the gag and tried to wrench away from the creature. Almost mockingly, it gave her a rather limited choice and furrowing her brow, Siryn became still, staring up at the thing with furious sea coloured eyes. If her arms had not been pinned by her sides, the girl would have given it a one fingered salute and tried to punch the cretin in the face but as things stood…

Squirming, Terry pushed herself forwards and crashed her forehead into the creature’s nose. An explosion of stars burst across her vision and the sonokinetic heaved, feeling suddenly sick and dizzy as she still tried to pull free from the iron grasp she was clamped in.

The creature had to hand it to the girl she was tough. That, and among other reasons, was why she was chosen. His green head flung back from the hit, his grip slightly loosened on the girl. It felt like she broke his nose. The creature had to gather himself quickly. So she wouldn’t escape. He let his green-scaled hand off of her hair and grabbed one arm for each hand. Wrapping it behind her back, pulling upward, and holding on very tightly. “Nasty it is, then.” He pulled hard on her arms behind her back, able to hold both of her arms with one hand. With the free hand the creature reached for the item in its back pocket.

A small item that looked like a phaser from Star Trek. With the small amount of blood that trickled down towards its lips and multi-clefted chin, he grinned as he quickly put the small gun against her neck. “I’ll see you on the other side, Theresa.” He squeezed on the trigger. The click was accompanied by a whirring sound and ended with another click. The tranquilizer would quickly work its way through her system it would take seconds. But it was enough time for her to feel the effect of what the creature would do next. Which was to bring its forehead down to hit her own head. He let go of her milliseconds before his head smashed into hers. So she could fall. When she did the creature looked down on her and while wiping his blood off of his lips and chin he spoke, “Don’t worry Ms. Rourke, she loves you.”

The green scaled being moved and hoisted her up and over his shoulder. Carrying her as a fireman would out of a burning building to prepare for their exit. Then… they were just gone.
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Queen Veranke
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Date: May 18th
Time of Day: ~10pm
Location: Hartley's office; X-Corps building
JP Mitch and Dr. Nemesis



It was late, and pretty much everyone in the office had gone home already, but Mitch was still there... he still had a job to do, after all. Which is why he was sniffing around Hartley's office like an amorphous pink bloodhound, and why he'd asked Dr.Nemesis to join him there. The forensics teams had been all over this office, of course, ever since Hart had taken a header out the window and her body had disappeared from the sidewalk below; none of them had turned up any clues, though. It didn't take a genius to figure out that her disappearance probably had something to do with the Project: Hope fiasco, of course, but Mitch was betting that it would take a genius to track the problem down to its source.

As it happened, though, X-Corps had a genius handy, and Mitch shifted partially into humanoid form to greet Nemesis as he arrived. "Hey Doc... thanks for coming," he said. "Call me paranoid if you want, but with all the bad press X-Corps is getting after the Project: Hope stuff was leaked, I'm not sure I trust the cops to put 100% into this investigation, you know what I mean? So I've been looking into it on my own, and, well, the truth is I could use some help. Willing?"

Everyone, Nemesis included, was still reeling from Hartley’s untimely demise and extremely unsettling disappearance. No one fell from a multiple story office building and then just ceased to exist. Well they ceased to exist in the fact that they splattered against the unforgiving concrete below; evidence remained however. In this case, she was simply gone. Others probably hadn’t put it together, at least not as fast as he did... but those people in Ohio had simply vanished as well. Were the two connected?

He’d need some hard evidence of yes or the contrary before he committed himself, but he did believe it was worth looking into. He’d respected the police and the CSI’s wishes to stay out of her office while they conducted their investigation. Funny thing about James though; he loved to exploit loopholes. Physically he wasn’t there, but a few micro cameras allowed him a birds eye view as the incompetents mulled about and stumbled over themselves. After they’d gone, Mitch had taken it upon himself to do an in house investigation of sorts and asked for James' help. He owed Hartley that much, so he agreed without hesitation.

He walked through the open door and nodded to Mitch, pursing his lips beneath his almost ever present mask. "I owe Hartley at least this much, so don’t mention it. And a little healthy paranoia goes a long way; besides, even if they did give it their all, New York’s finest can be horribly incompetent." He ran a gloved finger over the desk, then looked around. "Let’s get started."

"Yeah," Mitch agreed, "ain't that the truth. Though, y'know, they're only human." He shrugged and gestured around the room vaguely before explaining further. "It's weird, though. Someone or something took the boss out; that's clear enough. And it had to be something physical, and damned strong besides: after the Purifier fiasco -- the one in Mutant Town last year I mean, not that last one in the mountains -- we rebuilt this place like a fortress. Even if something had messed with her head or whatever, Hart wasn't strong enough to crash that window; she was thrown through it by something way stronger than a human, stronger'n most mutants even. Dead Girl could have done it, or one of those Sentinel things, but not much else.

Thing is, though, there's no strange scent trail, nothing out of place. And the cameras didn't stop rolling, but they don't show anything weird... one minute everything's normal, Hart's doing some paperwork or whatever; next minute she's gone, the room's empty, and the window's broken. Which I guess means something's spoofing our security and cleaning up after itself pretty comprehensively. I don't mind telling you, I'm not only stumped, I'm kind of spooked. You got any ideas?" It was a rhetorical question, though: it had become obvious pretty quickly that Nemesis was as clueless about Basswave's true fate as the rest of X-Corp. Which was really what Mitch had wanted to determine before making his next move.

He busied himself with an examination of a bookshelf until the doctor was absorbed in some bit of forensic analysis or another, then shifted from his transitional goo form into a more solid form... not that of the pale-skinned redhead he'd been impersonating the last six months or so, but the green-skinned warrior that was his true form, and in which he could access his full power. An arm strong as an iron bar and supple as a willow whipped towards Nemesis, the same arm that had hurled Basswave to the sidewalk below.

Nemesis had begun looking around the office, taking in what clues left that he could find just like a trained detective. He wasn’t one, but with his intellect and observatory powers, he was much more effective and efficient than a team of detectives and CSI put together. He nodded and gave a few short answeres here and there as Mitch droned on. They had things to do and his constant questions and statements weren’t really helping; he tolerated him though as they worked. "True; very true." That was strange of Mitch to say; he wasn’t the type to say things like 'they’re only human' from what James knew.

He blew it off and kept working though. He walked over to the shattered remains of the window and looked down; he wasn’t afraid of heights as he had several counter-measures against physical harm at any time. Still, Mitch made sense. Hartley was the size and physical makeup of a slender woman. Her powers didn’t give her any enhanced musculature or bone density. She simply wasn’t strong enough to smash through a thick window like that on her own. He’d said something strange again though. Stronger than most mutants? There were at least a dozen they knew personally who could duplicate that feat with ease; some of them were even capable of bringing down the entire building if they felt like it.

"Not Moonbeam. She operates mostly on logic and the more... angry emotions. Besides, she was as close to Hartley as I’ve seen her with anyone. There’s also no evidence of a necro physiological nature. She could do this, but she didn’t." Mitch was right though; he couldn’t detect any evidence through genetic scan or zooming in around the room. Just nothing. He’d also gone over the camera feeds and saw nothing to indicate doctoring of the footage. Whoever had done this was good at their job. "Don’t worry. Hartley may be gone, but this is another problem to be solved.” He let Mitch go look at the bookshelf, and he took another trip to the window. His eyes switched through vision modes and he almost gasped out loud.

He leaned down and his gloved hand picked up a clue invisible to the naked eye. A strand of curly, red hair caught on the window. His eyes glowed green and he studied it closely; it resembled... he turned towards Mitch and barely flattened himself to the floor before an arm swung out and towards him. "So it was you. I knew I didn’t like you... never trust silly putty." He pulled a pistol from it's holster and pointed it at Mitch, then he pulled the trigger.

The child of Skrullos that had, moments earlier, been masquerading as the mutant named Mitch made no attempt to dodge the weapon. Human technology, even the relatively advanced technology this man wielded, was really no threat to the Skrull; their weapons would no more fire against his will than their cameras would record what he didn't wish them to. And even if the gun resisted neutralization, which was possible given how eccentric it seemed to be, surely there was nothing it was capable of producing that would penetrate his armor now that he was in his true warrior form. "You don't like anyone, James," he replied evenly. "And the feeling is largely mutual."

The green thing that had not only replaced Mitch, but replicated him completely down to the molecular and atomic level, including his powers and mannerisms, spoke. It no longer sounded like Mitch; it just sounded like some one or some thing that needed the good doctor to show why he came so highly recommended. The dart didn’t penetrate the reptilian creature’s flesh, so Nemesis did the sensible thing: he bought some time while he made adjustments.

"That’s true for the most part, but some people I do tolerate. Mitch was barely one of them, but then again, you were acting as him so I’d probably feel the same way if I met the real him." An unnoticeable turn of a dial. "And of course the feeling is mutual. If you’ve gone so far as to replace someone fairly unimportant like Mitch, no doubt you and however many more of your kind have replaced world leaders and other mutants... probably some I know. So I highly doubt you’d like me."

"Liking you is irrelevant," the Skrull replied. "It is no part of my task to like humans." He could have caved the puny human's chest in, but this time his goal was not to kill anyone, but to return Nemesis to his Queen, more or less unharmed, to be copied and replaced. So instead of crushing the pitiful creature he took a moment to reconfigure himself, then reached out almost gently with the six arms that now sprang from his rib cage and grabbed at his target. The man was quick, to be sure, but not quick enough to avoid a Skrull warrior... not by half. "But you have created a useful reputation, and it will make a valuable gift to present to my Queen. You should be happy! Most of your fellows will die without contributing anything nearly so valuable."

An imperceptible finger press of a tiny touch pad. He'd done it. He usually kept the pressure on the guns relatively low so the darts would just pierce the skin; he'd ramped it up to the max now and set it to fully automatic. Anything in the direction of the pistol's barrel would have titanium needles with points laser sharpened to be less than a molecule thick ripping through them like bullets and at the same time being filled with enough volatile chemicals to cause so many simultaneous chain reactions that they'd die in extreme agony in under ten seconds.

The Mitch Imposter he’d dubbed "Crinkle Chin" suddenly sprouted four extra arms from his sides and rushed him; just how many tricks did this poser have up his sleeve... wait, sleeves? James made a convincing game of ducking and dodging until he got backed into a corner and grabbed; luckily his gun hand was left free and it was pointed directly at Crinkle Chin’s upper torso and face. "Take a few of these and call me in the morning. Or die... your choice." He pulled the trigger again and the hypos began firing out in rapid succession.

To the Skrull's surprise, the annoying primate's gun actually penetrated his hide this time, dumping a significant load of assorted chemicals into his skull before he could finish pinning him down. There was no telling what had been in the payload of those hypodermics, so the simplest thing was to dissociate the affected area before whatever it was spread; accordingly, the Skrull's head promptly pinched off at the neck and fell to the ground. A free hand blurred to disable the gun, another to pin the man's shooting hand, a third drove stiffened fingers into the solar plexus with the intention of forcing Nemesis to exhale, and a fourth reached up to close around his neck and, hopefully, cut off his airflow. Meanwhile, a new head popped up where the earlier one had been, leaving the warrior a few pounds lighter but otherwise unaltered. "You almost tempt me to snap your neck like a twig, human. Almost. But fortunately for you, if not for your fellows, you have a greater destiny ahead of you."

He smiled and stuck his tongue out from under his mask as hundreds of mini-hypos were belched out in seconds, directly into the creature’s cranium. "Take that, Crinkle Chin!!!" His excitement soured when the monster's head simply detached from its body, probably before the multitude of chemicals and viruses could wrack his body with severe diarrheal and cancerous, crotch melting pain. "Not fair!! You were supposed to die horribly from an overdose, and then I could study your corpse and solve all this madness!!"

As if being headless wasn't already bad enough, the still headless creature knocked his gun from his hand, pinned his hand, punched him and choked him all at the same time. He was outgunned if not outclassed, and Bradley knew it. He would go down fighting though and threw futile blows against the creature as his lungs struggled to draw breath. "I don’t know who you –ack- are, but I will look for you... I will find you... and I will kill you." His last punch fell pitifully against the monster's chest and slipped to his side; his vision went dark and that was the end of it.
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