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| Duel At Twenty Paces; Closed | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 6 2016, 08:14 PM (364 Views) | |
| Marvel Girl | Jun 6 2016, 08:14 PM Post #1 |
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Telekinesis, Telepathy
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Date: May 8th Time: Day Franklin, Rachel and Sinister three way What was it with these megalomaniacs and her family? Sinister possessed an obsession for her mother and father that was well beyond the point of being creepy and unhealthy. Whatever it was that drove him to want to meddle in their lives was beyond the comprehension of the daughter of Scott and Jean. “Enough of this!” Rachel called to Sinister, while she was the best both her parents had to offer there were also parts of her that made her far more deadly when those she loved were threatened. The blue emblem of the phoenix appeared across Rachel’s eye as the very room they were in began to rattle if she so wished she could bring this city to its knees and flood it with the very waters that protected it for so long from the forces that would hunt mutant kind. Thrusting her hand outwards she released a wave of telekinetic energy that rushed towards Sinister, causing the artificial ground and walls in the immediate area around them to crack and groan under the strain that came from her untampered power. Franklin and Rachel were staying aboard the Jammer as it circled Sanctuary, Franklin maintaining the reality barriers that Sinister was tearing down, Rachel keeping up the connection with the others. It was not at all surprising that Sinister was mentally attack them. In fact, Franklin would have found it surprising if he didn't. As the blue symbol of her power bloomed over her eye and Rachel thrust her hand out towards the villain that only she could see, and the waves of her power slammed through the ocean, and into the dome, rattling everything. "Babe," Franklin tightened his hold on reality, and stabilized the dome, "Don't drown our family," he warned. And, suddenly, the world shifted, and Franklin and Rachel stood in the astral plane, facing Sinister in his true form, the one that so few people ever saw. Tall, pale of skin, red of eye, his own mental image of himself monstrous and foreboding. "Fascinating," Sinister said, "so, this is the child of my two favorite playthings. Such power, such passion. I've never tasted anything quite like your rage. Give me more, little girl. I want to taste it all." "Well," Franklin muttered, "that's not at all creepy, is it?" He reached out with his powers to test the reality they were encased in, finding it to be much like the simple mindscapes that all telepaths walked in. But even he, nowhere near as strong a telepath as his girlfriend, could feel that Sinister had warded his mind the strips of immorality and violence, degradation and cruelty, using his own will to trap his prey within like flies in a spider's web. "Rachel, focus," he said, quietly, "don't let him close these walls around us." Before Rachel could respond to Franklin, they were torn from their world and pulled into the astral plane. Stood before them was the man that was orchestrating all this trouble, in his true form with no illusion to veil the hideousness of his natural appearance. The revelation of their true appearances worked both ways here though and the illusion that kept the brands of the hound hidden dropped. Sinister was baiting her, there was a time when Rachel would have bitten without question, throwing everything she could at him without thought of the bigger picture, but Franklin’s words kept her from launching herself at him “Can you still sense the others?” With the need to focus on the world they were in Rachel couldn’t focus her mind to try and find the minds of her family and friends out there in the physical plane. “Well as you asked so politely Sinister, who am I to refuse?” Without the physical world around them, her telekinesis was useless here, but her telepathy could be an equally strong weapon her, as a large piece of concrete and debris, the manifestation of her mental power launched was flung towards Sinister, then in quick succession to more such assaults began as she sought to find a weakness in the armour that protected his mind. "I have them," Franklin said, quietly to his girl, his anchor. "He has them too, though, so you have to stop him, somehow." He reached out with his powers and was instantly rebuffed by the walls that Sinister had trapped them in. Rachel, ever her parents' daughter, responded immediately, throwing both sass and debris at Sinister, but the man laughed, in a strange depraved delight, and raised his hand, shattering the debris into dust with a thought. "This is my mindscape, little girl, what makes you think that your powers have any potency here," Sinister taunted, "You're a fascinating little thing, though, aren't you? Exactly what I had always hoped my little Scott and Jean would give me as a gift. If their dear broken friend doesn't kill them, I'll have to send a nice fruit basket." The Astral Plane was not Rachel’s first choice when it came to combat, her telepathy had the potential to be as powerful as her mother’s, but it lacked the finesse that came from the years of experience that her mother possessed. “Let’s see about knocking him down a peg or two then, huh?” Of course her first attacks were shrugged off it would have been too easy for him to go down from one punch alone. “Over confidence is your undoing Sinister,” He had not succeeded at any point the future they were from, and she was not about to allow that to change. Reaching into the depths of her mind, Rachel pulled up a memory, that encapsulated the fear, hatred, and anger that helped led them to this point and it was that memory she used to fuel her next attack. The large robotic sentinel appeared in front of her, once a weapon that had hunted and sought to kill her, and Franklin and the rest of the Summers rebellion but now, a shield to defend and defeat Sinister. “The difference between my parents and me? I will kill you.” And with that the Sentinel’s centre energy canon launched at Sinister. Franklin recoiled backwards as the sentinel appeared and he felt the stretch of Sinister's powers in order to accommodate Rachel's attack. "Oh man, I love you so much," he whispered, shooting a glance at Rachel, smiling despite the danger they were in. Someday, he would be a god. Someday, he would stand at the end of the universe and great the next. Rachel would be there with him at that time, and he would love just as much as he did right now, which was with 100% of everything he was. The Sentinel-Image shot its cannon at Sinister, catching him squarely in the chest, blasting a hole clear through him. As the energy dispersed, the monstrous man looked down at the hole, a brief amount of shock on his face fading almost instantly as the hole began to close, the noise his reknitting flesh wet and meaty. "Oh, wonderful," he said, and his red eyes met Rachel's. "Now.... my turn." He blasted out his own powers, shattering the sentinel into a million shards that streaked back towards Rachel and Franklin. Even here in the mind space of a sick and twisted individual such as Sinister, Franklin managed to put a grin on her face. “I’ll remember that if we manage to get out of this.” She whispered back, the Sentinel did its job blasting a hole through the stomach of Sinister. The damage was only temporary and completely repairable, unfortunately there was still sound here, or Rachel’s own mind made the misfortune of filling in the blanks as to what a giant hole in the abdomen would sound like when healing. The gloves were well and truly off in this fight as Sinister shot back, blasting through the Sentinel and sending the remnants back as a weapon to harm both Rachel and Franklin. Warping the mindscape yet again, a brick wall rose up from what was beneath them if this realm possessed the same laws of physics that their own did. Concentrating her might into the wall, it began to visibly crack as the shards crashed into it, absorbing the brunt of the attack which strained Rachel’s mind and body as her own mental defences stood against Sinister’s onslaught. The last of the shards crashed against the wall, and Rachel allowed the energy to dissipate. Clearly they were both pretty well matched, though Rachel was caught on the back foot. This time when she launched her attack she went right for the throat, no longer relying on visuals and her training as an X-Man, now she was drawing on the raw brutality that she used as a Hound, throwing the full force of her telepathic powers against Sinister’s defences as the Phoenix emblem burned more intense as she sought to overpower her adversary. "Yes," Sinister urged, throwing his hands up, and blasting outwards at the stream of energy that came from his lovely and powerful adversary, "Brilliant," he said, "I do hope your parents realize what a miracle you are." The energy streams met in the middle, evenly matched, even though Rachel's Phoenix emblem burned with an intensity that Sinister had never seen before. But, slowly, as the powers began to clash, the mindscape around them began to crack, streaks appearing in the sky. The ground beneath them began to rumble and Sinister's wicked smile froze. "No," he said, "Not at all proper. Not at all." He extended his hand and blasted out at Franklin, who instinctively threw up a barricade of his powers, but though Franklin was a reality warper, this was not his reality to warp. Rachel ignored Sinister’s words, intent on breaking through his defences then burning his mind from the inside out. The more she focused on breaking through the defences the more it seemed that her plan was working, that was until Sinister went for Rachel’s jugular and attacked Franklin while she herself was still attacking him. With a singular thought crossing her mind Rachel’s assault ceased and she launched herself to get between Franklin and the mental blast before it reached him, hoping her own mental defences would be enough to stave off the brunt of the attack. |
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| Marvel Girl | Jun 7 2016, 08:54 PM Post #2 |
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Telekinesis, Telepathy
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Despite being the daughter of one of the strongest telepaths in the known universe, Rachel Summers was fighting on the back foot, this was Sinister's mindscape, and she had rushed to block the attack from Frankie. It was a solid move, he was the weaker telepath and Rachel quite clearly would do anything to protect him even if it meant having to break off her own attack. While her defences were good, they weren't completely able to absorb the brunt of the attack, and Rachel's body convulsed as the attack broke through her defences and disrupted her neural pathways. Thankfully for her, Sinister wasn't a true match for her, if this had been her mind then she would have beaten him by now and left him as a quivering wreck for the rest of his existence. As her mind and body recovered, Rachel's face shot back to Franklin, "No broken bones?" More concerned for his own safety than her own. Now it was time to put a stop to this once and for all, turning back to Sinister, Rachel's features grew darker as she mustered all her strength. The first attack was raw, brutal and unforgiving as she sent the blast towards Sinister, she quickly launched a second and a third, not waiting to see how the enemy combatant reacted to the attack before she attacked again, and again. She could feel his mental defences straining under the force of her attacks, a feeling that only encouraged her to continue her salvo until finally she felt her attacks push through the defences of Sinister's mind allowing her to gain access to the man's mind and put an end to this madness once and for all. |
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| Sinister | Jun 8 2016, 02:55 AM Post #3 |
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Complete Molecular Self-Control
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The girl very nearly sacrificed herself for her little godling boy, and oh, wasn't that just typical of a Summers. They had such a ridiculous hero complex no matter how hard he attempted to break them. But truly, what did it matter, when it made them so very easy to manipulate? So very easy to shape into what he wanted them to be. Sinister was a pragmatist but he was also an opportunist, and he would adapt to their strange ideas of self, always manipulating, always subtly steering them where he wanted them to go. How did they not know he was in charge? No matter what Rachel Summers thought she was though, the key thing to note was that, in the end, she was the product of her parents, and there was enough of her father's determination and her mother's anger (or was it the other way around) that drove her forward and into Sinister's mind, and oh, my goodness, what did she find there? You want to know me, girl? Sinister cackled, You shall know me/ And then the images in her mind. The degradation. The evil. Hundreds of years of cruelty spurned on by an obsession with perfection. The experiments on his wife and daughter, driving the first to insanity, and destroying the latter. Turning his science on himself, meeting his master En Sabah Nur, learning the teachings of Apocalypse as the great god slumbered. Becoming teacher himself to the man called.... Oh.No No No, little Summers Spawn, that is my secret to keep Then the images came faster, the years of ripping people apart and putting them together both physically and mentally. His discovery of Scott Summers, nine years old, comatose, a gift from a absentee deity to the waiting hands of the man who had sought for such raw material for so so long. Rachel was privy then to all the nasty little things he did to the sleeping boy, and then to the even nastier things he did to him once he awoke. She would see how he was being guided into a life of something dark and .... well... sinister... the neglect at the state home, the physical and emotional abuse at the hands of the man called Winter. She would feel every pain, every attack on her father to be, still a scrawny and helpless kid... every fear, every bruise, every broken promise that things would be better someday, every pull into crime, drugs, drink, despair... all the things that sent young Scott down the path towards the hell that Sinister wanted for him.... All of those things were now Rachel's as well... Then, there was a sudden pull on Rachel's psyche, and she was wrenched violently from Sinister's mind, to find herself in Franklin's arms. "Hey, hey," he whispered, "come back to me, cutie... you don't need that. You don't need to see that." "So sweet," Sinister said, rising to his feet, wiping blood from his nose, surprised by it, "you're delightful, truly, both of you. I have great plans for you both, isn't that exciting?" He smiled and said, calmly, "But first things first. Let's see how long your team can hold their breath, hmmm?" Then, in a flash, Rachel and Franklin were back on the deck of the Starjammer, Corsair and the others looking at them in concern and horror. "What the hell just happened?" Chris asked his granddaughter, "Rachel, honey, are you ok?" Franklin was on his feet, not remembering when he went down, and he said, "Corsair, pull the ship around, start scanning the dome, I think Sinister is planning on..." But it was too late, as they watched through the windows of the Starjammer's control room, the dome began to crack and shatter... ... and the water began to pour in. |
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| Marvel Girl | Jun 10 2016, 05:09 PM Post #4 |
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Telekinesis, Telepathy
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It was no surprise that his mental defences could not keep her out forever, Rachel was strong, persistent and most importantly the best and worst the Grey, and Summers lines had to offer, concentrated down into one incredibly powerful and resilient telepath. Once in, his mind was open to her like a book though he still guided her to what he wanted her to see. The images were horrendous, she was aware that Sinister had played a part in her father's life from the beginning, how much did her father know though? In the waking world, Rachel's mind convulsed and reacted to every ordeal that Sinister was putting her through. Despite all the horrors, there was one piece of information that was useful to them, Sinister had a student and that would give them a starting point for finding him in the future. The further she pushed, though, the more walls that Sinister threw up until she was pulled from the Astral plane with a force that knocked her for six, leaving her in Franklin's arms. "No! I need to go back." She needed to find out who his student was, she needed more information. "I'm fine Pops, Sinister messed with the wrong Summers is all." She felt a little shaken, though, this sort of fight took it out of her, and it had been an age since she had fought against a fellow telepath properly. Franklin set about ordering her grandfather to move the ship, but that was when she felt it through the bonds that she shared with the rest of the team. Even with all her poise, and strength Rachel fell to the ground when she felt the death of the teenage version of her mother and within instants, the world was beginning to change around them. "No, this is wrong, all wrong." She shook her head, they had only just become a proper family again with the little version of herself, things couldn't change again. Without realising Rachel's eyes were wet and the tears were falling down her face. "Franklin, teleport me in there. Now." It was too late though and Franklin was already communicating with the time-displaced version of her father, they had their roles and it was then that Scott addressed her, Rachel was struggling to keep herself in check, what wasn't strapped down on the ship was vibrating as Rachel's powers began to move unchecked by her own control. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Rachel nodded. "I can do that." How effective it would be, was yet to be seen but Rachel tried to ignore the fact her hands were trembling as she reached out with her mind, this time locating each of their team members and enshrouded them in her own influence hiding them from Sinister's powers. "Bring her home, Scott." That was the last she spoke on the radio as she turned her focus into keeping what remained of their allies hidden from Sinister. |
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| Psilord | Jun 14 2016, 02:35 AM Post #5 |
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Reality Warping, Flight, Has a Pet Galactus
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Franklin did not make grand gestures to console his girlfriend, his love, because he knew that she was too much a Summers to want that, too strong willed, too much her mother's daughter as well, wanting to stand on her own feet in the middle of the cataclysm, and it was a wise man who knew what the woman in his life wanted at the moment of her deepest despair. But he was also very much his own mother's child, despite not being raised by her, and his heart was breaking for her. He wanted to go to her, wrap his arms around her and use his powers to fix everything, bring Jean back to life and make all of this go away... ... but he couldn't. He was a god, maybe, he liked to say it and sometimes believed it, but this was too much, too many changes that he was trying to hold together. Losing Hank had an effect on the world that he was holding at bay, but Jean....Jean had so much more of one. She was not just Scott's wife, or the school's heart... Her death irreparably changed who Scott Summers was, who Warren Worthington was, those two, those two key components were hubs for massive change. They had both saved and attempted to destroy the world at various times, their actions had affected hundreds of thousands. Even if he was able to separate their acts from Jean's, how many had she touched, saved, how many lives? How much was going to be different? He couldn't track all those threads, without severing some. He couldn't repair this moment without possibly doing irrevocable harm somewhere else. Damn he wanted to though. Rachel followed orders though, her grief stifled in favor of her warrior's instincts, the rebellion leader who had picked up her parents' mantle when she was barely out of grade school, She put her tears on the 'to do later' pile and instead stood strong and powerful and did her job because it was the only way to fix what had gone wrong. So out of respect and love and an admiration for the strongest person he had ever met, Franklin simply sat down next to where she was, linked one finger around one finger of hers and put his other hand to his head. An astral projection of Franklin appeared on the dome, an image of his signature turquoise powers, on the other side of the cracking shield from where Julian hovered, straining to fill the growing cracks with his emerald hued telekinetic might. Franklin's form looked just like he was, a pleasant young man in cargo shorts and a t-shirt sporting a distinctive looking 4 logo, but there was no movement of his hair or clothes to indicate that he was at all affected by the water moving around him. He knelt down, on the surface of the dome and from the places where his fingertips touched, his powers began to trace Julian's and weld the dome back together. Franklin worked his powers, using his astral projection to repair the dome, working quickly while Julian and Fia continued their work, but then... he felt it. Something so wrong, so violent, that it was shredding reality as it streaked towards them. "Corsair..." he gasped, "can the ship see above the water?" he asked, suddenly frantic, "Can it show..." But then, the presence grew so strong, so near that there was no mistaking what had happened, what was coming. He locked his limited telepathy on Julian and Fia, shouting in his panic, but managing not to split their skulls with the force of his powers. "GET TO THE OTHERS NOW! GET THROUGH THE PORTAL! SHE'S COMING! GO! NOW! His loose grip on Rachel's hand grew tight and he said, "Rachel, get ready! Oh, god, get ready! She's here!" Corsair and his crew stared in horror at the infinitely powerful young people on his bridge and he immediately knew something was happening that was beyond their control. "'Jammers, prepare for emergency maneuvers. Franklin, who's coming? Franklin!" Franklin shifted his eyes to Corsair but the pirate got the impression that he wasn't really seeing him. "She's coming... the Phoenix." "What?" Corsair frowned, "Jean?" The young man shook his head and the blood drained from his face, "No, sir... the Phoenix. There's no Jean in there... Jean's dead and the Phoenix is free." |
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| Corsair | Jun 14 2016, 07:10 AM Post #6 |
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NPC: Baseline Human
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"Wait, what does that mean?" Corsair asked, "Franklin..." "My love, look..." Hepzibah pointed at the windows that lined the bridge, the deep ocean outside, the barely healed dome ahead. She had found this whole thing to be a tremendous bore and she had wanted to test her claws against this Sinister who thought it amusing to taunt and tease and destroy. She had known men like him even before she was a mutant, for do not all women know these men? But this was not her battle, and so she had skulked and sulked and waited for something to come. She had not expected this. A ring of flaming energy blazed into existence over the underwater city, out through it soared the Phoenix. The Phoenix’s form was still that of its deceased/never-to-be host Jean Grey, but her beautiful face was licked by red solar energy, and her kind green eyes emitted a flood of light. The force of its presence sent millions of fractures skittering through the already weakened dome. The oceans boiled against the white hot intrusion of this entity as it dove downward, crashing through the dome and shattering the work done by Franklin and Julian. "FRANKLIN, the DOME!" Corsair cried, "'Jammer, pull back before we're pulled in..." But as the ship strained to avoid being tossed to smithereens as the ocean rushed to fill the vacuum left by the collapsing dome, Franklin threw his hand out and a massive gout of energy poured from him to rebuild the dome, in a wash of turquoise. "I... I can't hold this all together..." he managed, "Rachel... Rachel... I have to... hold the dome. Get... get down there, and stop this.... Please...." "We have incoming," Corsair announced, "Oh, my god, what the hell is happening? That's a military jet..." He turned to Rachel and Franklin, "It's Scott's jet! He can stop her, right? That thing... it was Jean. Who else can stop it but Scott?" Franklin., straining against the tremendous levels of power it was taking to hold the dome and keep reality from tearing to shreds, grunted in exertion, and the sea floor began to quake, a pillar of earth beginning to rise from depths of the dark cold water. With the last bit of his conscious strength, Franklin reached out to the men inside the ship, ::Scott, is that you? Warren! Thank God, you're here! Land the plane. I'll get you down to Sanctuary, stat!:: He could feel that they were different, but there was nothing he could do about that. Holding the dome up was far more important at this moment than patching the time stream was. |
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| Archangel | Jun 14 2016, 07:32 AM Post #7 |
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Metallic Wings, Healing Blood
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JP Cyclops and Archangel The silence that hung between them as time and light sped past, two of them focused on a shared goal for the first time in years. The situation that had them reconnecting was so insanely absurd that there was no way Warren could simply ask ‘how’s things’, even though some part of him simply wanted to know how the boy… the young man he had known at 16 had turned out to be this. He had been prisoner to what he had done to Jean, what Sinister had done to them all. And for that, he had not forgiven himself, and likely, Scott had not forgiven him. How could he? For killing Jean, Warren sent himself to hell. “What… What the hell happened man.” He asked finally, not referring to the situation they were in now, but to how their lives had turned out. Sitting there, in the jet with Scott, it was as if they were on their first mission again. Warren remembered it all; familiar but different. “What the hell happened to us.” "You know what happened," Scott said, quietly, "this happened, this day happened, and you... you left." he didn't look over at the other man who should have been his friend, his best friend, his only friend... "You left and you went to that damned club, and I had to try and pick up the pieces." He looked down at his hands, even in this infernal scarlet vision the knuckles strained white. "I tried to be better, Warren, I tried to be what the Professor wanted me to be, but... I lost my... my confidence, I guess. I second guess everything, I keep expecting to fail. That's no way for a leader to be, so we all just... we sort of fell apart. I mean, I've managed to keep the school going, but I don't know why I'm there. It just seems so... futile." The Hellfire Club had offered him a sick kind of solace that only booze, drugs and women could. Of course eventually he had made peace with himself, he had found love, he had found stability in the form of Betsy, the Hellfire White Queen, but for all she was, she could not return him the innocence, the optimism that he had lost on this day. This one day that destiny had in store for them all. “I guess we all failed once. We failed Jeannie,” he replied quietly. He remembered leaving the school the day he recovered. He had spent weeks away from civilisation, just flying, wondering what was next for him. Then of course, Hellfire came knocking. It was an anchor, in the tumultuous storm that raged within him, a fire that licked at his wounds, only to scar them more. “And you think we can retract all of that today?” Warren refused to be disbelieving. Somehow, if Scott had put all his hope on this one thing, this one day… Then surely, surely, there would be something they could do. After all, their paths did not cross again for nothing, right? “Scott, I’m sorry about Jeannie. I’m sorry… I’m sorry about it all.” “After Jeannie was gone, after I took her life I just couldn’t stay. I couldn’t face you. I couldn’t face you knowing I owed you so much. Too much.” He looked over now, Scott Summers, this tired and diminished man, trying to find the face of his friend in this decadent and slightly wicked lord of Hellfire before him, and said, "Warren, that thing... it was her. I know it. I might not be everything I was supposed to be but I don't grasp at straws. I don't have hope where there is none. I know this is the right thing, I know it." Warren apologized to him then, and Scott shook his head, "You didn't do it. It wasn't you. It was that bastard, Sinister. I never blamed you. If anything I blamed myself for not knowing you were there for so long. If anyone failed, Warren, it was me and I;ve been failing ever since." He looked away, "We lost Jeannie, then we lost each other, then... we lost ourselves. This is our rebirth, Warren. This is where we fix what we broke." Scott stared straight ahead, not daring to look at Warren and he muttered, "I'm glad you're with me. I couldn't do this alone.” A lock of his blond hair fell over his eye, rakishly sweeping his patrician features, and Warren swiped at it impatiently. They were regressing, regressing to a better time for them both, a time when they were brave enough to face the terrors the world threw at them. Being here, with Scott, facing down the world — it felt so much more complete then the months he had spent in the darkness of the club. “What was done to us, it wasn’t our choice, but the decisions after that? That’s on me,” Warren murmured, half to himself in self-blame. Intuitively his long, elegant fingers keyed in codes he still remembered to track the Jet’s flight path and altitude, while he continued. “We fix it this time. If we don’t… Scott, I think I’ll come back to the school, I think —“ Whatever thoughts he had next were cut off as a flash of red and orange burst up ahead of them. Warren’s sight was accustomed to the skies, and even soaring in the jet, he was sensitive to their surroundings. “There! To the left! If it’s her, Cyke, if it’s really here, she looks hella pissed.” Neither Warren nor Scott were men accustomed to sentiment. The former buried it in debauchery and self aggrandizing, the latter in doubt and isolationism. But there had been a time when they were a trio, and that extra leg of support had made them strong enough to think they could save the world. For the first time in so many years, Scott remembered how that felt. But before anything more embarassing and mushy came out of either of them, Warren saw the creature that had appeared in Scott's room, and together, they changed the course of the jet to follow her path, "Where the hell is she going?" Scott asked, "Is there anything even out here---" The entity answered his question by suddenly diving into the ocean, disappearing into its depths. "NO!" Scott shouted, "No! We can't lose her! Not now!" As they overshot the area of the sea where she had vanished, the spot marked by boiling, roiling white water, Scott immediately turned the plane so that he could circle back. "How do we..." he began, wondering how the hell they were going to find her under the water. He couldn't ditch the plane. A sudden commotion in the water though showed that he wasn't going to have to. An island, of rock and sand, was rising out of the sea, clearly meant to be a landung pad for them. "Oh, my god, what the hell is all this?" Scott gasped. ::Scott, is that you?:: a voice suddenly sounded in his head, young and male, not a voice he knew, ::Warren! Thank God, you're here! Land the plane. I'll get you down to Sanctuary, stat!:: There was a moment, a frisson of doubt, but there was no time for that, none, as the jet accelerated under Scott’s steering, and with a thrust, soared off after the flames. On the tip of his tongue, Warren was about to suggest they fly after her, and to hell with logic, drop into the ocean and see what that brought them — the situation was already insane enough, wasn’t it? What was one more i’ll-advised move? But thank god, before he could suggest something as far-fetched as them, a telepathic voice sounded. “Who the hell is that?!” was his first incredulous question. Even as he asked, Warren started to prep the flight for landing. There was something about this situation that gave them both a infinite about of trust in the unseeable. Their lives had been at rock bottom before. Surely whatever this was, it would be an improvement. “Looks like we’re going back to where it all started, and we’re not alone this time. Come on old man, stick the landing, we’ve got a girl to save.” And, just like that, despite the fear in his heart, the confusion in his mind and the doubt in his powers, Warren's words, Warren's faith in him and what they were doing screwed Scott's courage to the sticking place, and he believed. The two men, working in tandem like a machine only slightly rusty but still in working condition, switched the plane from jet to VTOL and they brought her to a perfect landing on the island platform created for them. As the plane powered down, Scott turned to Warren and for just an instant he smiled a bright smile. Then, he was out of his seat, and practically running down the length of the ship to the hatch, his form maybe not as fit as it would have been had he kept up his X-Men training but certainly strong and faster and ready to be broken into however many bits it would take to bring Jean back to them. Sliding out of the hatch onto the stone, Scott looked down into the black water, watching the boiling of the sea that marked the Jean-thing's passing. "How do we get to her?" Scott asked, not expecting an answer. ::I'll send you,:: the voice told them. ::trust me... please Scott glanced over at Warren, "Are you ready?" Warren tilted his neck to the side and it cracked, tension released as he shook out his frame and rose to join Scott. Being in the Club, he had less opportunity for training in a combat sense; thankfully, his own vanity, or what had developed as vanity and not necessity had pushed him to maintain his strength and stamina. His tall frame was not as lanky as Scott’s but they served admirably together before, and there was no reason to doubt that now. “You got your answer,” Warren said, coming to stand next to his ruby-visioned friend. “Who else can we trust now? For the record, this is the craziest thing I’m going to do in my life, and coming from the HFC, it’s rich.” “Ready for whatever comes.” With that, a turquoise flash lit through the skies. One glance later, and only the jet remained on that makeshift island of rock and sand. |
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| Marvel Girl | Jun 14 2016, 05:26 PM Post #8 |
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Telekinesis, Telepathy
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Across the breadth of the city, Rachel could feel each and every one of her teammates, their hearts were sinking and moral was at an all time low. They were X-Men though and they would not allow their sorrow to deter them from their goals. Ensuring that each mind was shrouded from Sinister's telepathic abilities, with Rachel lending her own defences to those that could not stave of a telepath on their own. Even with her mind focused on protecting those within the city, Rachel could feel Franklin wrap his finger around hers, the smallest of gestures that let her know that things were going to be alright, that this was fixable that somehow all their work to fix their own time and craft a life of their own, for Rachel to find her parents again wasn't about to be replaced with something more horrific; the telepath was unable to deal with the idea that one horror was about to be replaced with something new and far worse. Suddenly on the peripheral of her mind grew a being, fire, vengeance, and power, a being that made even Franklin appear to be inconsequential. There was no hiding what, or who this was, it was the same being that had been released by the Illuminati and now it was free again, untempered to spread its fires of destruction wherever it so deemed. "It means we're in trouble." It was because of Rachel, Franklin, and Valeria that the Phoenix was here, that the Illuminati had succeeded in opening the crystal and now it was that very power that threatened the world once again. The arrival of the Phoenix put a strain, not only on Franklin's powers but Rachel's as well causing the telepath to close her mind off to protect her own mind from being touched by the Phoenix. "I'm not sure who can stop her, Mum was able to stop it last time but who knows now." Despite all she had seen, all she had faced, Rachel Summers now feared for what they were about to face. A rush of activity, the strain in Franklin's voice, the city was lost, they needed to get Sinister and get out before more lives were lost here in the former Brotherhood Stronghold. "Hold it for as long as you can," Rachel squeezed his hand knowing that Franklin would do what he needed to for as long as he was able to. This was not going to be the end, there was no need for a soppy goodbye, not to mention her pops was here and she wasn't about to do soppy in front of him. Crossing to where Yana's portal was, Rachel looked back. "Don't leave without us." And with that, she stepped into the portal. |
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2:42 PM Jul 11