STATUS:
Every time I think I'm fitting the last pieces of my plot together, the edges don't line up or the picture is off. 😑 But getting closer. . .getting closer. . .
5 days ago
Current
Every time I think I'm fitting the last pieces of my plot together, the edges don't line up or the picture is off. 😑 But getting closer. . .getting closer. . .
When you had just found your stride after a story stall only to get sick for a month and now, on top of that lost time, you have to reacquaint yourself with where you were. 😑
5
likes
2 mos ago
Welp, that's as much as I can do in this afternoon. I feel at once like I've barely got anywhere and that I've made progress onto a smooth road when I return to it. (I hope)
Bio
It all never happened ~ but in your mind! It all never happened ~ but in your mind!
Aspiring Screenwriter. Imagination whiz jumping between many 🌎s. Self-taught Pic/🎶 Editor, VFX Coordinator & Mixer. Independent student of 🎞; ever learning.
'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me. 'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.
The Reality Is: It's getting me through.' The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'
The comic book world is such a rich sandbox! Perhaps none richer than the X-Men -mutations to mix, slice-of-life elements to turn into anything but ordinary -the lines are drawn but the colours exceed them ~care to embark on the eXploration with me?
*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into Fox Movies theme🎵*
Jean had been intending to search the facility for rooms unseen when she'd received Xavier's message about the injured guards. She'd changed course, but soon it became apparent someone had already had the mind to go check on them; a direction from Becker, possibly, following the radio disturbance.
Jean had decided then to return to medical to aid with the treatment of the guards when they were brought back. Besides a responsibility towards human life, she wanted to see what other damage the girl had caused and what she might further be able to infer about her from the guards.
Given her medical experience, she also didn't want to be missed. If she was going to go looking for places she wasn't meant to be, she wanted to be sure no one would be looking for her.
Ahead of that, however, Jean saw the director himself back in the hallways. She had tried to speak with him, but his impatience was clear despite his feigned accommodation -he apologized for keeping her in the dark, yet simply had too much to attend to after that mass technology glitch to go into anything more about it now. If she had spoken with Xavier on the details Becker had divulged to him, which it seemed she had, then that was really all Becker could say at this time.
He'd cited privacy again when Jean expressed wanting at least to know this girl's name.
The guards were back in the building at that point, being taken to the Medical Centre, and Jean had fell in line.
There wasn't anything of operative note from them, either, and as Jean assisted with treating their injuries, she'd reflected on the non-conversation with Becker. Jean preferred not to tap people's minds unpermitted, or without dire cause. There was more variance to this rule when it came to enemies, however, and Becker was giving off a certain vibe....She'd thought she might catch a stray thought. It was clear the safety of anyone who encountered this girl was at risk, and through extension the girl's own safety. They weren't sure what all she had planned -if escaping and existing outside the facility was the extent of it, or if she had something else in mind.
All that took precedence over certain privacy. The girl's and Becker's. However, Jean had found Becker's mind, your could say, shaded. She was sure with a little more time to concentrate she could see something through it, but that hadn't been afforded. She decided to try again after conducting her search of the facility. Gain an advantage by knowing more than he would expect and more of what he held in his mind.
The basement of Umbra Biogenetics had been conveyed as a place for old equipment; an office and research space no longer used since a new wing had been built two years ago; generally a place of no matter.
And that's exactly what Jean Grey had found when she went there now, for the first time.
She may not've found the hidden elevator shaft to the sub-basement, had it not been for the psychic signature she'd been following. An emanation which grew acutely perceptible from the top of stairs, and stronger with every step down.
Finding the shaft became a game of Hot and Cold, with the voice directing her taking the form of psychic imprints; like a handprint somewhere dust has settled.
The existence of this other basement in and of itself didn't register too strongly to someone who, back home, was used to having a hanger full with one or two aircraft at any given time, a war room, medical room and lab, an amplifier for telepaths, and of course where limitless simulations could exist in a limited-size room, all housed beneath your regular 18th century mansion. But the X-Men were open about it within their own walls. Their elevator opened onto a main floor hallway students may tread down in their day-to-day.
As Jean descended down this shaft, it was like walking into increasingly humid air; a growing weight pressing down on her perception.
When she came upon Ryder's room, it didn't feel like one where someone lived, but where they merely survived; the affect poignant. The psychic signature here, like no where else, added on an emotional weight. There was nothing more to be gleaned from this space. Jean moved on.
She next came to a research room, where her eyes moved over devices not unlike what were used above, or back at the X-Mansion, yet these ones felt deceptive in their familiarity. Jean flinched as someone with a headache may at a sudden noise.
Then she'd found the audio logs. . . .
While she listened, it was as though what they detailed came to life for Jean, at least in terms of the sensation she was experiencing; dialing up. But the mind working as it can when a person is concentrating deeply, or determined to finish something, the sensation was swept to the back of her mind until the point where it crashed back to the front, unable to be ignored any longer; the point when you realize you should've been paying attention to what your body was trying to tell you.
She managed to get out of the room, back up the shaft, to the main basement's stairs. Then she had to pause. Crouching down with a hand on the wall.
If the recurring experience before had been like psychic nausea, this was like being drugged. Any processing her mind had to do happened as though through a warped lens: the psychic signatures hanging in the air like pieces of broken mirror, distorting the room; thoughts from the people above freely entering her head, but coming as though from a malfunctioning radio in an echo chamber. Jean closed her eyes. Even her own thoughts felt disembodied.
Her mind shifted to Scott, her hand -in the psychic space of her mind- clutching the handle to "their door", yet it was as though she couldn't get a hold on herself -couldn't manipulate the handle to gain access.
And there was another...a certain sensation that had grown on her, within her, now feeling like cascading wind chimes drifting further apart. She could feel them still connected, still well, yet their sound was beyond her reach.
Opening her eyes, Jean determinedly stood up.
She had been hesitant to attempt stairs feeling like this, when someone else could be affected by a misstep. But she knew the sensations were all mental; she was capable physically. She just had to concentrate on her body instead of her mind for a few moments; had to get out of here.
Managing once more, Jean drew a breath at the landing; then made a beeline for her quarters.
At some point along the way, she vaguely registered Becker down another hallway -he probably saw her- but there was no way she could make a second attempt at him now.
Locking the door once inside her room, Jean drew more collecting breaths, but had to delay hitting the bed to first place another long-distance telephone call.
That done, she curled up with the distress of all she'd just learned and the disturbance of the lingering sensation: Her mind feeling like a PC made to process something it didn't have the hardware for, while other applications and programs were open. Its performance so hampered that even everyday tasks were met with a stall; impossible for anything to get done prior to a reboot.
Jean knew she wouldn't be able to communicate with Xavier or Scott until then.
While both bodies experienced the startle reflex, and both heads turned in her direction, the girl hadn't exactly achieved her intended effect. Alert described Cyclops and Professor Xavier's present state rather than scared. The two sitting watchfully, yet still.
Xavier even answered calmly. "I'm pleased to see you're still lively. In truth he knew she shouldn't be exerting herself, but he would follow her lead for the moment. As for where we came from, that would be a school I run in North America, for gifted young people such as yourself. I have made it my life's work to help those with strong powers out of troubled circumstances. As I once did for my friend here, Scott Summers." He gestured towards him, thinking it may help this young mutant to know that the two before her had, perhaps, some level of understanding on what she was going through. "He now assists me in the running of the school, and along with a select group of my other grown pupils fights to protect those who require it. My name, is Professor Charles Xavier. Perhaps you could tell us yours?"
Cyclops was questioning Ryder's choice of destination. Why plan so long to escape Umbra just to return to it? If she wanted to flatten the place, it sounded pretty clear she could've done that already, when she had initially escaped.
He didn't buy it. Something was up. Either she was going there for a different reason than she'd stated -something she realized she needed that wasn't tech related; she didn't have remote access to? Or she wasn't going there at all.
It did occur to him that their mini-X-jet was parked some distance in a clearing of the forest beyond the other side of Umbra. Could she have figured that out and wanted to steal their ride?
His sense of direction remained acute, though the more they travelled the more he lost ground on Ryder. He had the impulse to hurry -- he still had the advantage of size and could take much longer strides than she. But he knew better. Hurrying in this terrain at this time of day would only serve to set him back even more.
That's when he felt the ground shake beneath him, heard a sound like something being ripped from the earth at the same time, then heard the first scream, followed by gunfire.
"What the Hell?!"
Things became oddly clearer some distance up ahead, and Cyclops registered it was because trees had fallen out of view. 'Is she uprooting the forest, or...?' For all he knew this could be another mutant. The worst case scenario was it was an innocent local acting our of fear.
More sounds echoed -- quieter and less directly than if they hadn't been in a forest, but enough that Cyclops had a sense he'd be coming up on some sickening scene -- then came the shriek. It brought his mind back to the parking lot when Ryder had been injured. He was sure she'd just been again. This was not good.
Cyclops did hurry now -- recovering his footing fast each time he lost it. Pain was swept aside as adrenaline flooded in. He needed to get to the scene before -- He froze. Eyes widening behind his visor as mangled screams replaced by something worse registered through his auditory system.
His basic human instincts said to stay firmly planted where he was, but the rest -his X-Men instincts- took over; charging towards danger being just part of the protocol. Moving on, he practically felt what he was hearing, as though his body knew what his mind couldn't possibly. Some distance away in two separate places, two others were feeling the carnage as well, though decidedly more viscerally.
She'd been making her way to them since the failed communication, sensing he needed her, and now, Jean Grey screamed, clutching at her head as she felt multiple minds die horrifically in succession, then at once. She didn't even realize she'd fallen until she made herself open her eyes -- going against her instinct to shut out the world by shutting her eyes; she needed to see the space of the world in front of her which was devoid of decimation. But it was no use.
She registered no pain from the fall -- registered nothing but the concoction brought on by her mutant telepathy and natural empathy.
Xavier had gone back to the roads, planning on influencing a mind just enough to have himself driven back to the facility. He had come across a few vehicles indicating the arrival of more townspeople without any current occupants, when he, too, felt the pain of cerebral death on repeat. "AA-AH-AHHH!" His hands, too, clutching at his head.
Separately, the telepaths fought through the pain as though physically sifting through the bodies to try and locate one in particular.
He couldn't be among them -- he couldn't be. The townspeople were bold, but not that bold. If the gruesome sounds coming from the altered forest weren't enough, the insane amount of gunfire certainly was.
They weren't joining this fray.
One, however, perhaps with the panicked thinking of 'is it following me?!', perhaps by sheer accident, or perhaps getting off a calculated shot before turning tail to collect their quarry another day, fired off another of those enhanced net guns.
This one did ensnare Cyclops, who went down painfully, an unsettling warmth bubbling out in all the places where he'd been shot before by Ryder, indicative of the stitching and packing no longer holding. Only he wasn't registering that just now. He had something else to worry about.
The netting had managed to bind one hand tightly in the very position required for his visor to engage. After a few scarce seconds of blasting apart the earth Cyclops shut his eyes, having to act blind until he could extricate his hand.
The good news was: he had blasted apart some of the net, as well.
The bad news was: the blasting of the already disturbed earth saw to the felling of another tree.
It CRASHED down onto another, branches breaking. A thick one SLAMMING into an incline below -- one Cyclops had only minutes before came down in a scarcely controlled skid -- the branch now careening down it.
If that branch had merely rolled from the higher elevation, he could've heard it and blasted it away. As it came with the noise of coniferous impact and breakage, however, he couldn't sort out what he was hearing in time.
Cyclops had managed to stand up. This was one time he should've stayed down.
A yell was cut off as the air rushed out of his lungs -- the branch had slammed into him -- slammed him back into the thick trunk of another tree, and a series of tell-tale CRRRKKKKHHs resounded.
The branch fell away and so did he, finding himself in a lethal cycle --body desperate for air, but every breath CUT, the pain SEARED, breathing felt perversely like the absolute WRONG thing to do --that he would tear his lungs to ribbons if he expanded them against his splintered chest.
But he was so in need.
He lay literally gasping for his life.
His mind clouded over....
And as it would happen, so did the surrounding area.
Fog permeated the woods so if any foolhardy or militant souls were left, they'd be absolutely blind. The fog was oddly sectional, however, and where bodies lay it was clearer.
Cyclops, no longer blasting, had a vague, visual registration of the scene before his faculties fell further away.
....Jean. He'd thought of her. He'd seen her.... No. She shouldn't have been there. No where near this. He felt his lungs fill with a breath he hadn't taken. They filled gradually, deeply, painfully. Yet they didn't shred. Another... ...Familiar lips on his.
* * * * Three Weeks Later
"I still say, it doesn't matter who she is. That scene in the forest looked like a scene I would've left. Only worse. I know how you two feel about this sorta' thing, but you let Xavier put blocks in your mind when your power was only considered too dangerous. I mean come on -Scott was nearly among those in the pile out there." concluded the gruff voice of Wolverine.
Jean didn't need to be reminded -of the scene or how close she came to losing Scott. Truly his only saving grace might've been that he hadn't been right there when it all went down; there was no entertaining the idea that Ryder would've discriminated. "That carnage was a reactionary result," Jean pointed out in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, "Ryder felt cornered. Threatened. She's been a lab experiment all her life. If either myself or Charles try anything in her mind, she might react on an instinctive level to the exact result we're trying to avoid."
"She's been unconscious. And the longer we wait the less she's probably gonna' stay that way."
"We're not waiting, Logan."
"Right. We've just been having regular round table discussions about how exactly we should act. Same difference."
"Not to forget, she may not be quite as unconscious as she's seemed," came the reasoning voice of X-Men's most hirsute; The Beast, "though, as far as we are aware, he has been proceeding without evidential certainty on the matter, Charles has been proceeding on that thought, none-the-less. So far the place hasn't come crashing down around us."
"So far. If you ask me, Chuck is too close to this to base anything around. . .At least he's sound enough on the subject to keep her in the Danger Room."
And so that's where Ryder had been since the X-Men arrived on the unspeakable scene and jetted her, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Xavier back to the Mansion. The Danger Room, some distance down the basement hallway from the Ready Room where the X-Men were having yet another meeting on the matter of "Ryder Xavier".
Despite Ryder's extensive injuries, she hadn't been housed in the Medical Lab for a moment. It was deemed too risky, especially as Cyclops would be recovering there. Not only was the Danger Room the most fortified of the entire building, being that the X-Men could train at realistic intensity, but the simulation technology it contained could also be utilized -and was- to make the environment appear more welcoming.
The very last thing they wanted was for Ryder to think she had just traded one captive situation for another.
They made the room look like one of the Mansion's bedrooms, complete with a window. That being said, they didn't want the gesture to be misconstrued as some ulterior motive illusion, and so they lowered the realism of the sim so it did appear, more or less, holographic. Ryder would be able to grasp her setting was manufactured, and they would be agreeable to changing it if she didn't appreciate their aesthetic.
They didn't delude themselves either --knowing full well once she was awake, it likely wouldn't take long for her to get a technic read on the place and be able to adjust the simulation at will. But at least anything she could do with it would be contained within this space. Beyond it, they had removed anything they thought she could use as a weapon, going analog where possible.
A return trip had also been made to Umbra within these past three weeks, with the intent to shut the place down. They were unable to locate Becker, and the only hidden rooms they found were the ones Jean already came across. But they had seen to absorbing the young charges into Xavier's institute, and had recovered some things, including -thanks to Beast's eye for advanced technology- a bit of the material the guards had had which blocked Ryder's powers. Beast had what amounted to an educated idea that's what it could do, anyway, and was currently in the midst of understanding it so he could do something with it himself.
In the meantime, Xavier had been making regular visits to the Danger Room to visit his daughter. And for at least the past week, he had been making mental visits, too. Even in true coma, a mind was still active where the body wasn't.
He took it slow. Like a new neighbour making themselves known in no greater way than merely being outside, doing things in their own yard. Smiling when they'd catch your eye, but not making an attempt to draw you into conversation.
Today, Xavier decided to knock politely on the door, as for the first time the curtains hadn't been drawn. He had been able to see a few scenes within the mental "house" -Ryder seemingly going over her days at the Mansion so far.
They hadn't consisted of much beyond what care someone in her state would require, which was mostly carried out by Jean both because, despite the odd sensations she'd experienced, they felt she was best suited power-wise to be in such a position -a decision Cyclops couldn't argue, though he felt uneasy about each time Jean went in- and because from what Jean understood from the facility, it never seemed like Ryder was dealt with by anyone but males. They thought Jean would feel like a less hostile presence to her. As well, Jean had her level of empathy gained from the knowledge of Ryder's life.
Her husband's discomfort notwithstanding, Jean took the position willingly and, truth be told, had made similar "visitation attempts" to Xavier's, from a place of wanting to understand this girl. Both her pain, and how she could manage the degree she inflicted on others. That scene in the forest was the very embodiment of blind rage, and Jean wondered how Ryder's mind was processing that; if it even realized. But she had been treading even more carefully than Xavier.
Xavier was cognizant of Jean "stepping" here, like noticing remnants of footprints on the sidewalk. He had to smile at this. Though, he didn't perceive she had gotten as far as he now had.
This apparent fact pleased him all the more.
Cool. Reserved.
Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, was often misunderstood as not caring when in fact he cared deeply. So serious all the time because nothing was a throw-away to him; everything mattered.
Chief among it all, Jean Grey. The center of his world.
She had seen something past his dour exterior, had been open enough to receive him that he could open up to her; show a side to her few, maybe only she, knew.
Had. Knew.
Everything was changed now. All of their history ceasing to exist in Jean's mind, from a series of seemingly insignificant actions which turned into a majorly significant circumstance.
Sometimes Scott felt his entire life was defined this way.
Four people climb into a cockpit. Strap in. Take off. . . The next thing he knew he was living as a brain damaged, unwanted orphan.
Three kids get into a fight. One never gets up. One can never go back. . . Next thing he knew he was a mutant, and that defined everything about his life going forward.
Was that why. . ?
Two X-Men undertake a mission. Patrol a sector. Cross an invisible line. . . Next thing, he was waking up in the Med Bay, his head feeling. . .strange.
And Jean woke up feeling he was a stranger.
She hadn't recognized the X Mansion, yet somehow had vague memories of Charles Xavier, and fractionally remembered the others. Ororo Munroe, Hank McCoy, Logan, etc. somehow she knew them, yet not Storm, The Beast, Wolverine -the X-Men as a whole, her place as one.
Was that why she remembered nothing of Scott Summers? He didn't know who he was if not Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. But with Jean. . . Was this proof he wasn't, in fact, anything else?
Taken with everything, that couldn't make sense.
Jean had no memory that she was even a mutant, but it wasn't as simple as saying she lost all memories pertaining to that, if she still recalled everyone else in some way. . . .none of them she would've met had she not been a mutant. Scott needed things to make sense, and so little of this did.
What had even happened? The other X-Men had been patrolling other sectors. No one saw.
They had to have been hit by something. . .
A subsequent probe of the area with Cerebro bore no residual signature of another mutant, no device had been located and with the aforementioned absence of signature, no one could've come to dispose of one.
. . .Xavier worked out they had in fact encountered something, something that existed on a psychic plain- explaining why Jean was affected so drastically and Cyclops, comparatively nil.
So what was it? What was this? Coincidental? Planned? Scott's money was on the latter, but then who was behind it? Was this their intended result? Or was there more to the plan he needed to watch out for. . ?
He sighed as he finished crossing the hallways. It was already taking a toll, what he had to deal with in his head. . . .that strange sensation growing stronger.
Which is why Scott now stood outside the presently closed door to Xavier's office. And the voices he heard inside is why he now stood paused outside that door.
Underway inside, rather, sounding like it had just concluded, was another of Xavier's psychic therapy sessions with Jean. So far there'd been no breaththroughs. . .it didn't sound like one was made this time, either.
. . .Scott couldn't help eavesdropping.
He was finding it difficult figuring out how to be around her now. Where to start over. Scott didn't want to get in Jean's way of remembering "herself". Desperate though he was for her to remember "them", he didn't want her to feel pressured to prioritize that. . . .Events had a sequence. It wasn't for him to jump the line.
That's what he partially convinced himself of, anyway. But there was also the matter of. . . . .
X-Men Envisionings: one passionate fan's riff on the FOX X-Men franchise. Call it a fanfiction, call it what you will, but don't miss out!!
Part 9of 2nd Edition Now Released! Part 9of 2nd Edition Now Released!
"There are those who operate by established norms. Those who don't understand those norms. And those who realize the norms are stupid and think beyond them accordingly."
P O W E R S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Astute Mental Capabilities-
A B I L I T I E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Upgradeable Helmet currently equipped with various scanning technology (vitals; radio waves; infrared; X-Ray etc.)
◼ Hard-Light Wrist Discs (projectiles from Gloves)
Keyrs was a promising new hire at Veridian Technologies until she made the error of jotting down ideas for her personal side project -a customizable, à la carte, multi-purpose suit that, yes, could be used for self-defense- which was blown out of proportion as mistaken for an agenda to dial Veridian Technologies back to its weapons manufacturing days via a coup against Maria Smith. Unable to articulate herself adequately to correct the egregious misunderstanding, Keyrs was unsurprisingly -or surprisingly, depending whom you ask- "asked to leave". Or so that's her side of the story.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
Spurred on by her injustice at the collective hands of Veridian Technologies, Keyrs has become a lone wolf plotting to demonstrate the genius of the mind they -and dare she claim, the world!- left behind by utilizing her own technology and other abilities to do whatever is necessary to make the world conform to her ideals into the better place it absolutely has the potential to be.
Hopefully my Paint program mock-up is an acceptable portrait - I just wanted a (rough) visual for the gear I mention she has. : ) If anything or section needs clarification / expansion I'll be on again later!
KEYRS FRONFORD KEYRS FRONFORD
~!~TRONICAL~!~ ~!~TRONICAL~!~
"There are those who operate by established norms. Those who don't understand those norms. And those who realize the norms are stupid and think beyond them accordingly."
P O W E R S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Astute Mental Capabilities-
A B I L I T I E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Upgradeable Helmet currently equipped with various scanning technology (vitals; radio waves; infrared; X-Ray etc.)
◼ Hard-Light Wrist Discs (projectiles from Gloves)
Keyrs was a promising new hire at Veridian Technologies until she made the error of jotting down ideas for her personal side project -a customizable, à la carte, multi-purpose suit that, yes, could be used for self-defense- which was blown out of proportion as mistaken for an agenda to dial Veridian Technologies back to its weapons manufacturing days via a coup against Maria Smith. Unable to articulate herself adequately to correct the egregious misunderstanding, Keyrs was unsurprisingly -or surprisingly, depending whom you ask- "asked to leave". Or so that's her side of the story.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
Spurred on by her injustice at the collective hands of Veridian Technologies, Keyrs has become a lone wolf plotting to demonstrate the genius of the mind they -and dare she claim, the world!- left behind by utilizing her own technology and other abilities to do whatever is necessary to make the world conform to her ideals into the better place it absolutely has the potential to be.
Storm's voice rings out over the Control Bay's comm.: "I am sorry to say, Cyclops, but that is mission failed."
In response, Cyclops merely turns and exits; not seeming put-out so much as trying to figure something out.
Colossus comes up to the others: "What happened?"
Shadowcat: "Cyclops set his phaser to kill instead of stun."
Iceman: "What was that thing, anyway?"
Shadowcat: "A dragon. Since this was my first sim as a graduate, Storm agreed to input something I suggested. I didn't know how she'd work it in." She adds to Colossus, "I was starting to think you'd find it like the minotaur in a labyrinth."
We re-join the X-Men's focused leader as he steps into the Control Room.
"Full replay with advanced data overlay, please."
Storm keys that in.
Cyclops steps more directly in front of the screens to watch. . .
. . .as we transition to another screen entirely.
Anchorwoman: "-serious water damage at an apartment complex has been confirmed to have been caused by an elderly mutant tenant. Given their landlady's statement of a rent increase enacted at the top of the month, an increase to which the mutant tenant tried to contest, this incident is being viewed as an attempt to avoid paying by claiming an uninhabitable environment."
The broadcast is shut off, and we see it was being viewed in Xavier's class,whom the Professor now addresses: "The news conveys the circumstance quite differently than what we know to be fact: an elderly mutant who experienced incontinence of their mutation before apparently losing the ability to access their power altogether."
One student raises their hand before asking: "Does this imply mutations break down with age, like the rest of a body?"
Xavier: "At this point I'm not sure." He smiles. "I haven't yet reached the age to know."
Giving a moment for his humour, Xavier then continues: "Though I do know how powerful a mind can be. It is possible this mutant subconsciously cut himself off from his power following the negative impact it caused to his life and others. Or that the stress of the event caused a suppression similar to how stress often activates the X-gene. However that would be a first, as far as I know."
We pan to another classroom.
Jean Grey: "For as much as we know about living with mutations, there's that much that we don't. For example, two individuals who may generally be classed as having the same can display that mutation quite differently."
Student: "Like how you and Professor X could both be classed as psychic, but only you have telekinesis."
"Right." She smiles, turning a phrase: "If you've met one psychic mutant, you've met one psychic mutant."
Jean resumes addressing the class as a whole: "There are also those mutations which could be classed differently yet are found to share properties. Such as Cyclops and Havok's. It's worth posing the question if we would observe this in all families with more than one mutant. At this point we don't have enough data to arrive at an educated answer, though our work today may bring us closer.
You'll find on your screens a series of sequenced X-Genomes. You'll also find they aren't labeled. I'd like to see if you can identify which belong to related mutants."
And while Summer classes are underway for those remaining at X-Mansion, others are using the holidays to visit family, including one of two such relatedmutants, presently downstate in an apartment in New York City. . .
Jacilon Chreyz: "Sorry, Holo. Looks like I've gotta' go into work today."
"Could I come?"
"Sure! The place is for youth, anyway."
Cut-To the sisters riding the bus.
With a couple blocks to go, Holo notices something out the window when the bus comes to a stop. She leans towards her sister, saying in a voice only loud enough for Jacilon to hear:
"The community garden's really sprung up."
Jacilon responds in kind: "A mother and son just moved here. He has quite the green thumb, just like you have a vivid imagination." She winks.
Getting it, Holo smiles.
On arriving at the Empowered Youth Center, Holo pauses instead of following her sister towards the door.
"Could I go check out the garden instead?"
Jacilon pauses to consider that a moment. "Sure. The boy will probably be out there soon, too. His name's Eeco."
So Holo backtracks the bus's route on foot. . . . . .and roughly ten minutes later comes up on the community garden.
Sure enough, a boy maybe her age looks to have just arrived himself;setting a pack down as he begins looking over the plants before he looks up instead, noticing her.
Holo offers a friendly smile. "Hi."
The boy seems unsure. "Hello."
"I'm Holo. I think you and your Mom know my sister, Jacilon?She works at the youth centre down that way," Holo extends her arm the way she came.
Eeco brightens in recognition. "Yeah."
"She told me you have a special way with the plants. Can you talk to them?" So he'll feel comfortable talking openly, Holo follows her question with a projected imagining of Eeco in obvious -though soundless- conversation with a Venus fly trap.
The real Eeco's expression turns from fascinated, to amused, to a kindred grin.He launches into an answer: "We don't talk, but I know what they need. More like I'm a scientist who does the analysis in my body when I touch them. Like, see-" He kneels down by one of the planters, "-this one needed better soil, and a different plant beside it than was here before." Eeco gently fingers the leaves, a studious look on his face a moment before he smiles with the affirmation "-it's feeling much healthier now."
Holo has joined him in kneeling by the planter. "Cool! Have you heard of the Three Sisters?"
Not long into their conversation, a woman who had been passing by pauses, staring at them.
Once again, Eeco notices, speaking to their frown in a shy but friendly way: "Would you like to take something? It's free and healthy."
"If you paid me I wouldn't eat that mutated food. I'll get the city to set you straight if you don't stop it." With a final scoff she goes on her way, muttering: "think they can convert us. Filthy muties."
The kids are crestfallen, though not for long as Holo speaks up; firmly if not privately: "I don't know what she can do, but I know she's making a mistake. This all looks way tastier than what's in the store."
"It is. What would you like to try?"
. . .and as a new friendship comes together, we head back to the X-Mansion where a temporary parting is taking place. . .
X-Mansion foyer
Bobby: "Enjoy your trip."
Rogue: "Take lots of pictures."
Kitty: "Thanks! I'll take a bunch for sure. I just hope I won't wind up wishing I'd stayed here."
Ororo smiles with pride: "Do not give us a second thought. This Summer is for your parents and their new graduate."
Kitty smiles back, then turns to Colossus who seems to be serving as her chauffer to the train station. Not expecting him to take her bag, Kitty thanks him as they head out together; a final wave cast towards her mutant family.
Bobby turns to Rogue and Ororo: "Either of you up for some basketball?"
Ororo: "Another time. My plants need my attention at present."
Rogue: "Ah'm game. Just gimme' a minute."
"Alright. I'll meet you on the court."
. . .but first we must meet back up with Cyclops, who finishes a basic, solo Danger session. . .
Shortly thereafter he goes to speak to Hank in the Lab, Cyclops still in his uniform though now with his glasses on; his visor handed over: "My optic power has changed. The data readout from the team session confirmed what I felt during it -a fluctuation. I'll be monitoring it, though for now it seems stabilized at the higher end."
"Hence your needing a change to your visors' parameters. So how much higher are we talking?"
"100%."
Hank is all interest: "I'll get on it directly."
"Thanks."
X-Mansion Grounds - Basketball Court
While waiting for Rogue, Bobby can be seen practicing against a defense of ice sculptures made in the likeness of familiar people.
While they don't provide much in way of competition, they do provide Bobby with bodies to weave around --plus a little extra challenge from the slippery puddles brought on by the Summer sun.
A figure steps up to the court; not Rogue. Though it is another youth looking to be about her and Bobby's age. This youth proceeds to watch this strange game for the few moments it takes for Bobby to sink another basket.
"You want an opponent who isn't so 'cool' and collected?"
Bobby turns around, surprised. "Sure." He passes the stranger the ball.
Catching it, the other youth turns his attention back to the ice sculptures, pointing to one: "This one's on my team."
Bobby grins.
They start their game.
Bobby: "So are you gonna' be enrolling or do you know someone here?"
The other youth bounces the ball off his "teammate", just to see what would happen. "I'm a couple years past graduating," he corrects the age assumption before answering: "I know someone who knows someone here. Or ones-- shoot."
Having just stolen the ball from him, Bobby gives a nod, but is now more focused on the game than on getting to know this guy. He tries to make a shot but the other guy blocks it with a laugh; in triumph, not mockery.
He then takes a shot but misses, and as Bobby gets the ball back he takes another himself --this time avoiding the other guy's block by shooting an ice slide underneath the ball, twisting it right into the net.
The other youth stares. "That has got to be a traveling foul!"
Bobby grins: "Let's see what you can do! Powers Ball is more fun."
"I'm cool to see more of yours, but who says I've got any?"
They fight for the ball.
"Sorry -I just assumed."
He smiles. "Well you're right. But who says I need them?" He'd lost the ball, yet just manages to hit it right out of Bobby's next ice slide.
Though Bobby is the one who recovers it: "Guess we'll see!"
--or not.
Suddenly a wayward blast of plasma obliterates the once-more airborne ball --nearly missing the other youth on his way to intercept it while instantly reducing the ice players to steaming, fast-shrinking mounds.
Rogue has arrived just time to witness this, and as one she and the boys look in the direction the blast came; finding trouble.
Bobby moves quickly on another ice slide --shooting his own blasts of ice to cool down shattered trees and sections of lawn set ablaze.
Alex Summers A.K.A. Havok: "Sorry, guys! That went out more intense than I expected; got a little away from me."
Bobby (coming to a stop nearby): "I'd call that more than a little."
Other Youth: "Yeah, great goin', man. You've becoming a real ace in the environmental destruction department." His tones speaks of an easy kind of relationship between himself and Alex, something nearing pals yet still more on the side of mentee/mentor.
Alex gives him a measured look: "I could leave you here."
Without missing a beat, the other youth shifts his attention to Rogue: "That couldn't be all bad. Hey, my name's Colber."
Rogue gives something between a laugh and a scoff at his forwardness: "Ah'm Rogue. And ah saw you've been gettin' to know my boyfriend, Bobby."
Colber raises a brow at the boyfriend part, interested though unconcerned,and reverts attention to the boy in question: "Somehow I wouldn't have taken you for a 'Bobby', if I had to guess."
"Well, you can call me 'Iceman.'"
Colber (like he finds that silly): "Then I'm 'Rockman'."
Bobby looks like he's still deciding on his impression of this guy."Well for someone called 'Rockman' your game wasn't all that solid."
Colber playfully recoils: "Ooo- freezer burn!"
However this conversation might play out, it's interrupted by another voice as Scott, now back in civilian clothes -different ones than we saw him in earlier- comes onto the scene; Alex's wayward blast having apparently caught the attention of more than just those who were outside: "Lex -what's going on?"
Alex spreads his arms in a frustrated shrug: "I need a new model of this thing or something!" He refers to the suit he wears -only the torse portion exposed- which appears at once similar to the X-Men's uniforms and unique; made of lighter material and containing on the chest three containment rings of descending size inside of each other, with a small point of connection between each.
"Actually I think it's messing me up like how they say wearing glasses makes your eyes worse over time -the times I lose control have gotten more frequent and every blast this thing absorbs now nearly fills it to capacity -I've had to make controlled blasts the past while just to make sure this thing can keep absorbing the uncontrolled ones, and then I can't even seem to modulate those the same."
Scott regards him thoughtfully before turning back towards the Mansion."Come on. We're going to the Danger Room."
Chaffing a bit at the older-brotherly insistence, Alex doesn't move: "Why? I've emptied it -I won't be a danger to my surroundings for a while -I just wanna' go see Hank."
Scott pauses. "Because there could be another explanation I'd like to test for and for starters, we kind of like our trees around here. And our basketball court."
Disarmed by the hint of a teasing smile on his brother's face, Alex yields; bending to pick up his discarded shirt as he follows him: "But if we're doing a sim, I set the specifics."
Cut-To close of the session; Alex joins Scott in the Control Room where the elder Summers is looking over the readout.
It was like something beyond Astral existence. Not a consciousness pushed through the psychic ether, but one that seemed in itself its own ether. Something Xavier understood to be exclusive to and only possible by Umbra. Different from power. . .it didn't feel attained so much as. . .defined.
Yet with an unmissable power imbued somehow in the nothingness.
Xavier knew what Umbra had thought to do. This sick possession of Andrew's body seemed like some kind of compromise. Why. . ?
The greater magnitude of this was unknown, and unsettling. . .Charles Xavier had been in many minds. Mutant and non-mutant. Twisted ones were found in either. Vast expanses. So many one wouldn't believe if not seen, even one who could be considered a professor of such.
But this. This held nearly no comparable feeling of "mind" at all.
Xavier likewise had ample experience with illusionist powers and this reminded him of being inserted into someone else's mindscape; created world; dimension. Yet it still didn't feel like anything previously experienced.
And for something Xavier couldn't concretely perceive, it evoked a lot of feelings within him. Like all that was absent from Umbra was finding its place in him. He almost felt masticated and swallowed by that yawning abyss. Questioning for several fractions of a second if Umbra could devour other minds, like Andrew's, merely by their critical error of treading too close to Umbra's "presence".
But no. Xavier was still himself. Still with the feelings he had on his approach; taking precedent to all others.
If Umbra could analyze Xavier like some scan, what would now be found would be oddly focused. As though the magnitude of Xavier's "files" couldn't be revealed without engaging with this one.
And the insight Ryder provided to the X-Men wasn't his to know.
"I trust you can comprehend me. . .The person from which you took something. Vastly more important is what you took afterward. Your reach ends here."
Cyclops didn't waste a second on the significance of Ryder's permission. He spoke into the comm., giving notable permit himself: "Logan, if you see 'em, free reign. We're coming." Already leading the way to the elevator shaft, Cyclops add of "time for a Talent Showcase," could've come off as an offhand statement to the air, though Storm and Beast understood it for the tactic command it was.
Give 'em your best whatever it was. Beast flexed his supple body before "following" Cyclops with acrobatic maneuvers off the walls and ceiling, winding up at the shaft ahead of his leader.
He used the same to descend the shaft safely while Storm and Cyclops merely jumped, Storm deftly using her powers to slow both their descents though Cyclops could've used his optic blast; wind was less alerting.
They use humans? That was a different type of unsettling.
"Who--" the question was cut off when Ryder suddenly reacted to her mental probing; Xavier's astral form doing so, as well.
And just ahead of Ryder's warning, it would feel as though a call had just dropped in all the minds Jean was connecting -preceded by ear-splitting static, so to speak, for Cyclops alone.
He immediately knew what must've happened: 'Jean?!'
She'd felt like she'd been wading when she suddenly found the drop-off --or something that lurked there had found her, forcing her down. Managing to surface, Jean reacted like waking from a nightmare; breath catching, eyes wide. '-I'm fine, Scott.' In fact, reality was still settling back in for her -her physical surroundings coming back into her visual field like a mood light turning up. 'But this mind is powerful.' Great as the mind of Jean Grey was, and the one adjacent which taught her, she felt concerned. This experience felt on a different level than even that of Ryder's mind.
'We should keep to our comms. now. Telepathy only if-
The gathered X-Men's attention suddenly went to the radios. Afterward, Cyclops' reverted to Ryder: "I know you came here for this but if he's as willing to face you alone, it doesn't sound smart. We might have an opportunity here if he doesn't want us engaged with."
"You do not have precedent for how a face-off with him may go," Storm chimed in. "Allowing us to engage him first will not cost you anything."
SCREEEEEE---eeeeee
As one their attention turned again, this time in the direction of the next elevator shaft some distance on.
First thought was that Umbra was making his way up, except the sound had dissipated as though getting farther away.
"Wolverine." The presently missing member of their party.
"Charles' astral projection has gone as well."
Able to move in all directions and through solid matter in this form, Xavier didn't strictly require the elevator shaft to efficiently make his way down; he could travel like someone using a walk-through-walls glitch in a video game.
And he was just as determined as Ryder to have his 1-on-1 with Umbra.
Location: New Orleans - Botanical Gardens Skills: Power Mimicry - Chlorokinesis
OfAll's intentions to manifest telepathy didn't pan out --in fact, it was though the thought were truly a train, going through her mind before she could catch it. She didn't even feel what she should in her body when she actually made a manifest attempt. Like only deciding to get up but not actually activating your muscles.
Alright, then I should be here, OfAll determined, as the pain in her head disappeared with the familiar warmth of Edus' magic.
She only just managed to get up when another vehicle came her way, sending her back --Whew! Too many close calls, with these past two not even from who they'd thought they'd be fighting. Then one of the entities they did made itself known --flames lashing out from Chrysi/Mary's form. OfAll felt the pain of the burning plants through her chlorokinesis.
There were a lot of moving parts in this fight, now --everything suddenly ramping up: more players -good that the numbers were on their side, evening the power balance, hopefully-- volleys from both sides, some succeeding, though it was hard to see --the visual field reduced first from the flames and smoke, then the subsequent haze from Klara's dousing of the former.
A whoosh up--Edus with his cape. This gave OfAll one idea; more mobility with the potential for offensive and defensive work. If she could pull it off, she'd join Edus up there. Coordinated efforts from multiple angles could be the winning strategy -if the glow of portals was anything to go by, Max was already implementing an multi-angle assault, and the only gap in the magic was above.
Quickly scanning the area, OfAll looked for a specific object relating to a second idea; one which would compliment her first.
Unfortunately, she didn't find it, and running to search seemed like a foolish idea -for herself. She had a backup in that respect, but that would come after. For now she switched her attention to manifesting. . .could second time be the charm for a sprightly mutation? . .Apparently not. OfAll felt the effort this time, yet nothing became of it. She grimaced in some distress. Chlorokinesis was feeling like a detriment now. . .If she weren't a beginner in Okichitaw she might consider getting-in close. . .Think. Think!
She was keeping a cool head, yet fast realizing she should've spent at least part of the preceding month in the Danger Room --kicking her brain more in the gear of thinking on her feet. If only she could manifest others' cerebral cortexes. Specifically her little sister's; Holo could always come up with something in a flash.
That could've been a solution right there. Except OfAll never could manifest Holo's powers.
She kept watchful eyes on the field, hoping if nothing else her observational skills could be of service, while she kept wracking her brain; beyond just what she could manifest: What was it Chrysi had said?
Utilizing their night vision, the X-Men moved forward. Wolverine was wholly focused on getting a whiff of anyone coming near, or that they were coming up on. To varying fraction, Storm, Beast and Cyclops were partially focused on encountering someone, and partially focused on taking in what was presently around them.
Cyclops' eye in particular roved across the lab equipment housed in each room. Some seemed uniform, like the multitude of rooms were simply for executing the same procedure on multiple subjects at once. While other pieces were distinct, telling of some specialization one room had compared to another.
Papers, mostly loose as though spilled from a hastily grabbed stack, though also a couple clipboards mounted beside walls like medical charts on the end of a bed, filled in some of the details of what this floor was used for.
And it made Cyclops' insides churn with vexation.
Even without having a history himself it would've -making so free with the most innocent- but being he had once been "here" himself; a child-turned-someone's test subject. . . he had a particular sensitivity -a particular hatred towards anyone who would be party to that.
It was the same with Wolverine, minus being a child experiment. Though he could smell the fear that permeated this space when they'd first walked in. Had felt the cold splash of unwelcome, triggering familiarity; he didn't feel the need to gawk at charts and contraptions to confirm and brood over it. Only felt a doubling down of wanting to do what they came here for, and finish this place.
Suddenly everyone's attention was taken by the sound of the gunshots --followed by more.
"Shit." He'd just been turning at the scent of something coming up from a door somewhere behind them when it happened. Though following this utterance, Wolverine actually turned his attention back to the direction they'd been going; he knew what happened. Something else that didn't warrant lookin' at.
The others were just in time to see the agent suffer more intense damage to their ribs than Cyclops had previously endured.
The X-Men's leader presently stared at Ryder like 'what the Hell!?' and checked the temper that was rising--towards himself. Ryder hadn't been craftily deceitful. She wasn't going rogue. She'd made it very clear what this mission was to her: retribution
Cyclops was evidently a fool to think otherwise; what motivation did Ryder have to go easy? 'This can't happen again, team. Let's be sure Ryder isn't left alone.' He communicated via the X-Men's private channel, with a new kind of guilt mixing in with what he was currently experiencing: it wasn't just about a body count, the lives lost, and how that would reflect on the X-Men or mutants at large. It was also about leaving Ryder open to get hurt more. 'I'm sorry, Professor.' Given the link between Ryder and Xavier, he was likely to know every instance of pain she experienced, and more than Ryder being "on the team" with them, Cyclops felt responsible for her as a fatherly proxy in Xavier's absence.
His physical absence, anyway, for he was still there astrally.
'I am sorry- his distraction was what had allowed Ryder to be caught off guard, and so he vowed as much as implied the echoed command to his X-Men: 'That will not happen again. But if it is the only thing I have over you, Ryder, it is years --experience in this world. Your retribution may only lead to a successive need as from it, more come to view you as less than a person, and something which must be put down. I implore you again, for your own sake not m--'
Jean had to interrupt Xavier: '--Guys! We might have a teleporter on our hands. I could detect Becker's signature somewhere before-' -Jean wasn't able to pinpoint him in the facility any more than she could've warned Ryder of the agent who'd come up from behind- '-now it's no where and some new one is in its place.'
Her phrasing had been coincidental; Jean couldn't know exactly "in it's place" this new signature was.
Beast turned. "Ryder, per chance could we be encountering others of your ilk? Though either lacking your will or freedom to express it?"
Cyclops tensed. The Umbra agents were one thing. If other manipulated mutants --children had to face the same ultimatum for being sicced on Ryder.
He wanted to speak ahead of Ryder having a chance--make it very clearthey, the X-Men, would be handling them if that were the case. But Cyclops held back. Just like there was no reason to think Ryder would go easy on the Umbra agents, there was no reason to think she'd extend her retribution to other experimental subjects. Acting on some knee-jerk fear she would was, to put it simply, wrong. And counter to what they represented.
Location: New Orleans - Botanical Gardens Skills: Power Mimicry - Chlorokinesis
OfAll appreciated Jean's diplomatic response, not that Pietro's had her feeling on the fence -she didn't feel stupid for bringing up the avenue, though did for doing so to the others instead of directing the thought to Chrysi herself. That was like 101: always speak directly to the person.
As it was, OfAll's thought process hadn't exactly been what the others took it for. A protective being could still be malevolent--that fit the "psycho" label quite well, actually: someone with their own idea of right and wrong. Chrysi could think destroying the world was in service to Mary, for example (and happen to enjoy it). OfAll hadn't been positing Chrysi was a good thing so much as, perhaps she was a different entity than they thought -warped, sure, though not an all out, nuance-free, incarnation of evil -or at least that this situation wasn't exactly what they were taking it for.
And it wasn't. . .It seemed to click for everyone at once.
Stalling. . .
Perry seemed to take the tact of breaking whatever this stall was with action, while OfAll watchfully eyed Edus as he stepped forward in a continued attempt at reasoning. Was it pointless, or not? . .in fact, Chrysi did open up. But it came to feel like a kind of. . .sloughing off of pain, a "too little too late" last ditch effort at sharing the problem, in the course of dealing with it in a more destructive way, as Exodus came onto the scene.
OfAll had just been processing Chrysi's words, thinking back on events; what all she could be referring to, when OfAll's processing had to turn to the bus in Exodus' hands. She'd thought too late she should manifest -or should've back in the first place- Edus's protective powers, and then she could hardly think at all as her head hit the ground, rendering her state of consciousness unstable.
A vague course of action then came to her. Or perhaps the course was clear, just the windshield foggy. . .The answers were in Chrysi's mind. Guin and Annie were there, perhaps not exactly trapped. . .perhaps finding a way. . .Now with Jean. . .
. . .perhaps it was time their -rescue- crowd become a party.
Manifesting Telepathy to try and join Jean, Annie and Guin in Mary's mindscape.
After her conscious mind had caught up with her actions on the Mansion Grounds, Jean also felt a sense of renewed security in her telepathy. Her worry about doing inadvertent damage by using Cerebro had fallen away, which is how she was presently staying connected to everyone -and working with certain finesse. For the Umbra agents, Jean was operating her telepathy like an airband radio. If they made an attempt to reach her, she would receive the message. If not, nothing.
Jean was prepared to answer them whether in surrender, ahead of assault, or in repentance after the fact, if their change of mind came only then. Despite how she'd answered Cyclops, she wasn't about to let someone die in a void if there was any remorse in their souls.
For the X-Men, both the channel Ryder was a part of, and the strictly X-Men channel operating through Jean & Cyclops' personal highway, it was like being in the same room or just adjacent as others talking: hearing conversation though able to tune it out, more or less, until something was said that was obviously directed towards her--or that immediately tuned her back in.
"Dammit." It was both said and thought once Ryder started going.
Though the X-Men, by Cyclops' own unrelenting discipline, trained until they could assess and react to things so efficiently it could all be mistaken for gut feelings, and so confidently they didn't have to think twice, knowing what a second could mean between life and death, there was something that bit next level about Ryder.
The difference between being so attuned to the rhythms of a video game you could play it blindfolded, and having A.I. execute the perfect run.
It bothered Cyclops to see this in action, for what it could mean and what it meant now; they couldn't have stopped Ryder in the pursuit of any other result. But the X-Men's mandate was to save everyone that they could.
The Umbra agents had, unfortunately, made their choice. And it had been an educated one.
Jean's message to them wouldn't have held any meaning had Xavier's work on their memories remained, so he had restored the Mansion event to the Umbra agents' minds ahead of the message going out. They also had to be aware of how the encounter with Ryder had ended last time.
They were beyond saving even before Ryder reacted.
Sometimes there was just no other avenue. Cyclops understood that. Loss of life was never meaningless to him but he could compartmentalize. Still, he couldn't help feeling this wasn't exactly what they'd agreed on.
"I'm taking point." He joined Ryder in the elevator, follow by the others. "They'll go down just as effectively." 'Without it having to be permanent', his tone implied. "Wolverine, take care of the roof. Storm, wind tunnel."
While Wolverine clawed the roof away, Storm started up--soon making it so everyone was suspended some ways above the elevator floor.
With no guarantee they were all lacking in the NVG department, this was so if Umbra agents were positioned right at the exit point on the level they were descending to, waiting for the precise moment they saw any body part of their intruders, they'd be waiting a little longer. Granting Cyclops that gap of time to adjust his aim and execute--
--agents were there--
ZARK!!!!
--trick shots took care of their guns before underlining the concussive quality of Cyclops' blast.
The agents were down, though still breathing.
Storm had lessened her winds so everyone could land.
"Allow us to take care of these ahead of our procession." Beast gathered the agents back into the elevator where Storm reverted the shaft to makeshift wind tunnel. The winds would last for a while, ensuring the agents would remain suspended even once they regained consciousness.
However, ahead of their procession, another voice rang out--through the psychic link Ryder had permitted Xavier.
You yourself intimated how you are not a weapon, how you chose to be your own person long before now. Do not lose the identity you've so valiantly clung to. Do not revert to the one theytried to force upon you.
Where Ryder was a picture of apathy, Xavier was of firm care; his voice matching hers in determination, though anything but cold. Not sharing Cyclops' compartmentalization, the pain Xavier felt at the lives taken by his own daughter, and equally at how she was made to feel it necessary, was a feeling behind the resolve in the eyes of the astral form he projected before her.
Location: New Orleans - Botanical Gardens Skills: Power Mimicry - Chlorokinesis
A glance at Perry; OfAll was unconvinced they were past the words working stage. Chrysi added to this uncertainty as she proceeded to simply sit down inside the bubble Edus had erected.
Though looks can be deceiving. . .
Following a combined telepathic attempt of some sort, Guin and Annie collapsed while Rogue seemed somewhat jolted. Chyrsi had either definitely reacted, or this was some kind of "firewall" that did the job automatically. Considering what other entity they were dealing with, that firewall could be literal. . .Which then, might not even be a Chrysi thing after all.
This situation was complex.
OfAll could see Guin and Annie's chests rising with breath, so she knew they were alive, yet if they had just been burned mentally--
Her concerned brow furrowed at Chrysi's response to her. OfAll hadn't exactly been asking for Chrysi to explain her reasonings -- more OfAll was trying to see if she understood what Chrysi was after, making this feel like a person holding someone for ransom responding to an officer's question of "is this what you're after?" with "I don't have to tell you".
Now OfAll questioned to herself: was Chrysi even after anything except, maybe, her idea of a good time?
Pietro spoke, introducing the concept of her teleporting. Was that really another thing here?
Another idea was building in OfAll's mind. . .it was something she realized she should've asked before this point.
Edus' confident statement of what happened to Guin and Annie was both assuring and supporting to the concept of Chrysi doing more than she appeared, yet still. . .
"How much do we know about Chrysi?" OfAll addressed the X-Men at large. "Disassociated personalities typically result from trauma. Is she actually protection for Mary in some way?" A warped way, surely. Though that was the quiet part OfAll didn't say out loud. "Mary could be feeling burn-out while misconceiving she can't take a break or even let on because she's leader. I don't know what that helps here. . ." OfAll realized, her eyes falling from the others.
But if Chrysi were some way of helping Mary, then maybe. . .maybe the X-Men needed to shift their focus here. ". . .Maybe Chrysi can cope with the Phoenix better," OfAll added, almost like she was processing her thought out loud more than introducing a further one to the group, though she did raise her gaze back to them.
[center][i][sub][h3] [color=slategray]It all never happened ~ but in your mind![/color]
[color=black]It all never happened ~ but in your mind![/color][/h3][/sub][/i][/center]
[center]Aspiring Screenwriter. Imagination whiz jumping between many 🌎s.
Self-taught Pic/🎶 Editor, VFX Coordinator & Mixer.
Independent student of 🎞; ever learning.[/center]
[center][b][i][sub][h3][color=#E5E4E2] 'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.[/color]
[color=#7393B3]'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.[/color][/h3][/sub]
[sub][h3][color=#E5E4E2]The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'[/color]
[color=#7393B3]The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'[/color][/h3][/sub][/i][/b][/center]
The comic book world is such a rich sandbox! Perhaps none richer than the [i]X-Men[/i] -mutations to mix, slice-of-life elements to turn into anything but ordinary -the lines are drawn but the colours exceed them [i]~care to embark on the e[i]X[/i]ploration with me?[/i]
[center][i]*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into Fox Movies theme🎵*[/i][/center]
[hr]
[b][sub][h2][color=red]Interest Checks:[/color]
[color=white]Interest Checks:[/color][/h2][/sub][/b]
[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/191820-deoxys-a-next-gen-x-men-comic-superhero-rp/ooc][b]DeoXys:[/b] A next gen[i] X-Men[/i]/Comic Superhero RP[/url]
[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/190866-a-cache-of-x-men-interest-checks/ooc][b]Cache of other[/b] [i]X-Men[/i] concepts.[/url]
[hr]
[hider=Writing Sample 1: from X-Men: GenetiX][i]Jean had been intending to search the facility for rooms unseen when she'd received Xavier's message about the injured guards. She'd changed course, but soon it became apparent someone had already had the mind to go check on them; a direction from Becker, possibly, following the radio disturbance.
Jean had decided then to return to medical to aid with the treatment of the guards when they were brought back. Besides a responsibility towards human life, she wanted to see what other damage the girl had caused and what she might further be able to infer about her from the guards.
Given her medical experience, she also didn't want to be missed. If she was going to go looking for places she wasn't meant to be, she wanted to be sure no one would be looking for her.
Ahead of that, however, Jean saw the director himself back in the hallways. She had tried to speak with him, but his impatience was clear despite his feigned accommodation -he apologized for keeping her in the dark, yet simply had too much to attend to after that mass technology glitch to go into anything more about it now.
If she had spoken with Xavier on the details Becker had divulged to him, which it seemed she had, then that was really all Becker could say at this time.
He'd cited privacy again when Jean expressed wanting at least to know this girl's name.
The guards were back in the building at that point, being taken to the Medical Centre, and Jean had fell in line.
There wasn't anything of operative note from them, either, and as Jean assisted with treating their injuries, she'd reflected on the non-conversation with Becker. Jean preferred not to tap people's minds unpermitted, or without dire cause. There was more variance to this rule when it came to enemies, however, and Becker was giving off a certain vibe....She'd thought she might catch a stray thought. It was clear the safety of anyone who encountered this girl was at risk, and through extension the girl's own safety. They weren't sure what all she had planned -if escaping and existing outside the facility was the extent of it, or if she had something else in mind.
All that took precedence over certain privacy. The girl's and Becker's.
However, Jean had found Becker's mind, your could say, shaded. She was sure with a little more time to concentrate she could see something through it, but that hadn't been afforded. She decided to try again after conducting her search of the facility. Gain an advantage by knowing more than he would expect and more of what he held in his mind.
[hr]
The basement of Umbra Biogenetics had been conveyed as a place for old equipment; an office and research space no longer used since a new wing had been built two years ago; generally a place of no matter.
And that's exactly what Jean Grey had found when she went there now, for the first time.
She may not've found the hidden elevator shaft to the [i]sub-[/i]basement, had it not been for the psychic signature she'd been following. An emanation which grew acutely perceptible from the top of stairs, and stronger with every step down.
Finding the shaft became a game of Hot and Cold, with the voice directing her taking the form of psychic imprints; like a handprint somewhere dust has settled.
The existence of this other basement in and of itself didn't register too strongly to someone who, back home, was used to having a hanger full with one or two aircraft at any given time, a war room, medical room and lab, an amplifier for telepaths, and of course where limitless simulations could exist in a limited-size room, all housed beneath your regular 18th century mansion. But the X-Men were open about it within their own walls. Their elevator opened onto a main floor hallway students may tread down in their day-to-day.
As Jean descended down this shaft, it was like walking into increasingly humid air; a growing weight pressing down on her perception.
When she came upon Ryder's room, it didn't feel like one where someone lived, but where they merely [i]survived[/i]; the affect poignant. The psychic signature here, like no where else, added on an emotional weight. There was nothing more to be gleaned from this space. Jean moved on.
She next came to a research room, where her eyes moved over devices not unlike what were used above, or back at the X-Mansion, yet these ones felt deceptive in their familiarity. Jean flinched as someone with a headache may at a sudden noise.
[b]Then she'd found the audio logs. . . .[/b]
While she listened, it was as though what they detailed came to life for Jean, at least in terms of the sensation she was experiencing; dialing up. But the mind working as it can when a person is concentrating deeply, or determined to finish something, the sensation was swept to the back of her mind until the point where it crashed back to the front, unable to be ignored any longer; the point when you realize you should've been paying attention to what your body was trying to tell you.
She managed to get out of the room, back up the shaft, to the main basement's stairs. Then she had to pause. Crouching down with a hand on the wall.
If the recurring experience before had been like psychic nausea, this was like being drugged.
Any processing her mind had to do happened as though through a warped lens: the psychic signatures hanging in the air like pieces of broken mirror, distorting the room; thoughts from the people above freely entering her head, but coming as though from a malfunctioning radio in an echo chamber. Jean closed her eyes. Even her own thoughts felt disembodied.
Her mind shifted to Scott, her hand -in the psychic space of her mind- clutching the handle to "their door", yet it was as though she couldn't get a hold on herself -couldn't manipulate the handle to gain access.
And there was another...a certain sensation that had grown on her, within her, now feeling like cascading wind chimes drifting further apart. She could feel them still connected, still well, yet their sound was beyond her reach.
Opening her eyes, Jean determinedly stood up.
She had been hesitant to attempt stairs feeling like this, when someone else could be affected by a misstep. But she knew the sensations were all mental; she was capable physically. She just had to concentrate on her body instead of her mind for a few moments; had to get out of here.
Managing once more, Jean drew a breath at the landing; then made a beeline for her quarters.
At some point along the way, she vaguely registered Becker down another hallway -he probably saw her- but there was no way she could make a second attempt at him now.
Locking the door once inside her room, Jean drew more collecting breaths, but had to delay hitting the bed to first place another long-distance telephone call.
That done, she curled up with the distress of all she'd just learned and the disturbance of the lingering sensation:
Her mind feeling like a PC made to process something it didn't have the hardware for, while other applications and programs were open. Its performance so hampered that even everyday tasks were met with a stall; impossible for anything to get done prior to a reboot.
Jean knew she wouldn't be able to communicate with Xavier or Scott until then.[/i]
[hr]
While both bodies experienced the startle reflex, and both heads turned in her direction, the girl hadn't exactly achieved her intended effect.
Alert described Cyclops and Professor Xavier's present state rather than scared. The two sitting watchfully, yet still.
Xavier even answered calmly. [color=#7393B3]"I'm pleased to see you're still lively.[/color]
In truth he knew she shouldn't be exerting herself, but he would follow her lead for the moment.
[color=#7393B3]As for where we came from, that would be a school I run in North America, for gifted young people such as yourself. I have made it my life's work to help those with strong powers out of troubled circumstances. As I once did for my friend here, Scott Summers."[/color] He gestured towards him, thinking it may help this young mutant to know that the two before her had, perhaps, some level of understanding on what she was going through. [color=#7393B3]"He now assists me in the running of the school, and along with a select group of my other grown pupils fights to protect those who require it. My name, is Professor Charles Xavier. Perhaps you could tell us yours?"[/color][/hider]
[hider=Writing Sample 2: from X-Men: GenetiX]Cyclops [i]was[/i] questioning Ryder's choice of destination. Why plan so long to escape Umbra just to return to it? If she wanted to flatten the place, it sounded pretty clear she could've done that already, [i]when[/i] she had initially escaped.
He didn't buy it. Something was up.
Either she was going there for a different reason than she'd stated -something she realized she needed that wasn't tech related; she didn't have remote access to?
Or she wasn't going there at all.
It did occur to him that their mini-X-jet was parked some distance in a clearing of the forest beyond the other side of Umbra. Could she have figured that out and wanted to steal their ride?
His sense of direction remained acute, though the more they travelled the more he lost ground on Ryder. He had the impulse to hurry -- he still had the advantage of size and could take much longer strides than she. But he knew better. Hurrying in this terrain at this time of day would only serve to set him back even more.
That's when he felt the ground shake beneath him, heard a sound like something being ripped from the earth at the same time, then heard the first scream, followed by gunfire.
[color=#0096FF]"What the Hell?!"[/color]
Things became oddly clearer some distance up ahead, and Cyclops registered it was because trees had fallen out of view. [color=#0096FF][i]'Is she uprooting the forest, or...?'[/i][/color] For all he knew this could be another mutant. The worst case scenario was it was an innocent local acting our of fear.
More sounds echoed -- quieter and less directly than if they hadn't been in a forest, but enough that Cyclops had a sense he'd be coming up on some sickening scene -- then came the shriek. It brought his mind back to the parking lot when Ryder had been injured. He was sure she'd just been again. [i]This was not good.[/i]
Cyclops did hurry now -- recovering his footing fast each time he lost it. Pain was swept aside as adrenaline flooded in. He needed to get to the scene before --
He froze. Eyes widening behind his visor as mangled screams replaced by something worse registered through his auditory system.
His basic human instincts said to stay firmly planted where he was, but the rest -his X-Men instincts- took over; charging towards danger being just part of the protocol. Moving on, he practically [i]felt[/i] what he was hearing, as though his body knew what his mind couldn't possibly.
[hr]
[i]Some distance away in two separate places, two others were feeling the carnage as well, though decidedly more viscerally.[/i]
She'd been making her way to them since the failed communication, sensing he needed her, and now, Jean Grey screamed, clutching at her head as she felt multiple minds die horrifically in succession, then at once. She didn't even realize she'd fallen until she made herself open her eyes -- going against her instinct to shut out the world by shutting her eyes; she needed to see the space of the world in front of her which was devoid of decimation. But it was no use.
She registered no pain from the fall -- registered nothing but the concoction brought on by her mutant telepathy and natural empathy.
Xavier had gone back to the roads, planning on influencing a mind just enough to have himself driven back to the facility. He had come across a few vehicles indicating the arrival of more townspeople without any current occupants, when he, too, felt the pain of cerebral death on repeat. [color=#7393B3][i]"AA-AH-AHHH!"[/i][/color] His hands, too, clutching at his head.
Separately, the telepaths fought through the pain as though physically sifting through the bodies to try and locate one in particular.
He couldn't be among them -[i]- he couldn't be.[/i]
[hr]
The townspeople were bold, but not that bold.
If the gruesome sounds coming from the altered forest weren't enough, the insane amount of gunfire certainly was.
They weren't joining this fray.
One, however, perhaps with the panicked thinking of [i]'is it following me?!'[/i], perhaps by sheer accident, or perhaps getting off a calculated shot before turning tail to collect their quarry another day, fired off another of those enhanced net guns.
This one [i]did[/i] ensnare Cyclops, who went down painfully, an unsettling warmth bubbling out in all the places where he'd been shot before by Ryder, indicative of the stitching and packing no longer holding. Only he wasn't registering that just now. He had something else to worry about.
The netting had managed to bind one hand tightly in the very position required for his visor to engage. After a few scarce seconds of blasting apart the earth Cyclops shut his eyes, having to act blind until he could extricate his hand.
[list]
[*]The good news was: he had blasted apart some of the net, as well.
[*]The bad news was: the blasting of the already disturbed earth saw to the felling of another tree.[/list]
It [b][i]CRASHED[/i][/b] down onto another, branches breaking. A thick one [i][b]SLAMMING[/b][/i] into an incline below -- one Cyclops had only minutes before came down in a scarcely controlled skid -- the branch now careening down it.
If that branch had merely rolled from the higher elevation, he could've heard it and blasted it away. As it came with the noise of coniferous impact and breakage, however, he couldn't sort out what he was hearing in time.
Cyclops had managed to stand up.
This was one time he should've stayed down.
A yell was cut off as the air rushed out of his lungs -- the branch had slammed into him -- slammed him back into the thick trunk of another tree, and a series of tell-tale [i][b]CRRRKKKKHH[/b]s[/i] resounded.
The branch fell away and so did he, finding himself in a lethal cycle --body desperate for air, but every breath [i][b]CUT[/b][/i], the pain [i][b]SEARED[/b][/i], breathing felt perversely like the absolute [i][b]WRONG[/b][/i] thing to do --that he would tear his lungs to ribbons if he expanded them against his splintered chest.
But he was so in need.
He lay literally gasping for his life.
His mind clouded over....
[i]And as it would happen, so did the surrounding area.[/i]
Fog permeated the woods so if any foolhardy or militant souls were left, they'd be absolutely blind. The fog was oddly sectional, however, and where bodies lay it was clearer.
Cyclops, no longer blasting, had a vague, visual registration of the scene before his faculties fell further away.
[i]....Jean.
He'd thought of her. He'd seen her....
No. She shouldn't have been there. No where near this.
He felt his lungs fill with a breath he hadn't taken.
They filled gradually, deeply, painfully.
Yet they didn't shred.
Another...
...Familiar lips on his.[/i]
[center]* * * *
[i]Three Weeks Later[/i][/center]
[color=yellow][i]"I [u]still[/u] say, it doesn't matter who she is. That scene in the forest looked like a scene [u]I[/u] would've left. Only [u]worse[/u]. I know how you two feel about this sorta' thing, but you let Xavier put blocks in [u]your[/u] mind when your power was only [u]considered[/u] too dangerous. I mean come on -[u]Scott[/u] was nearly among those in the pile out there."[/i][/color] concluded the gruff voice of Wolverine.
Jean didn't need to be reminded -of the scene or how close she came to losing Scott. Truly his only saving grace might've been that he hadn't been [i]right there[/i] when it all went down; there was no entertaining the idea that Ryder would've discriminated. [color=#DAA06D][i]"That carnage was a [u]reactionary[/u] result,"[/i][/color] Jean pointed out in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, [color=#DAA06D][i]"Ryder felt cornered. Threatened. She's been a lab experiment all her life. If either myself or Charles try anything in her mind, she might react on an instinctive level to the exact result we're trying to avoid."[/i] [/color]
[color=yellow][i]"She's been [u]unconscious[/u]. And the longer we wait the less she's probably gonna' stay that way."[/i][/color]
[color=#DAA06D][i]"We're not [u]waiting[/u], Logan."[/i][/color]
[color=yellow][i]"Right. We've just been having regular round table discussions about how exactly we should act. Same difference."[/i][/color]
[b][color=#4169E1][i]"Not to forget, she may not be quite as unconscious as she's seemed,"[/i][/color][/b] came the reasoning voice of X-Men's most hirsute; The Beast, [b][color=#4169E1][i]"though, as far as we are aware, he has been proceeding without evidential certainty on the matter, Charles has been proceeding on that thought, none-the-less. So far the place hasn't come crashing down around us."[/i][/color][/b]
[color=yellow][i]"[u]So far[/u]. If you ask me, Chuck is too close to this to base anything around. . .At least he's sound enough on the subject to keep her in the Danger Room."[/i][/color]
And so that's where Ryder had been since the X-Men arrived on the unspeakable scene and jetted her, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Xavier back to the Mansion.
The Danger Room, some distance down the basement hallway from the Ready Room where the X-Men were having yet another meeting on the matter of "Ryder Xavier".
Despite Ryder's extensive injuries, she hadn't been housed in the Medical Lab for a moment. It was deemed too risky, especially as Cyclops would be recovering there. Not only was the Danger Room the most fortified of the entire building, being that the X-Men could train at realistic intensity, but the simulation technology it contained could also be utilized -and was- to make the environment appear more welcoming.
The very last thing they wanted was for Ryder to think she had just traded one captive situation for another.
They made the room look like one of the Mansion's bedrooms, complete with a window. That being said, they didn't want the gesture to be misconstrued as some ulterior motive illusion, and so they lowered the realism of the sim so it did appear, more or less, holographic. Ryder would be able to grasp her setting was manufactured, and they would be agreeable to changing it if she didn't appreciate their aesthetic.
They didn't delude [i]themselves[/i] either --knowing full well once she was awake, it likely wouldn't take long for her to get a technic read on the place and be able to adjust the simulation at will. But at least anything she could do with it would be contained within this space. Beyond it, they had removed anything they thought she could use as a weapon, going analog where possible.
A return trip had also been made to Umbra within these past three weeks, with the intent to shut the place down. They were unable to locate Becker, and the only hidden rooms they found were the ones Jean already came across. But they had seen to absorbing the young charges into Xavier's institute, and had recovered some things, including -thanks to Beast's eye for advanced technology- a bit of the material the guards had had which blocked Ryder's powers. Beast had what amounted to an educated idea that's what it could do, anyway, and was currently in the midst of understanding it so he could do something with it himself.
In the meantime, Xavier had been making regular visits to the Danger Room to visit his daughter.
And for at least the past week, he had been making mental visits, too. Even in true coma, a mind was still active where the body wasn't.
He took it slow. Like a new neighbour making themselves known in no greater way than merely being outside, doing things in their own yard. Smiling when they'd catch your eye, but not making an attempt to draw you into conversation.
Today, Xavier decided to knock politely on the door, as for the first time the curtains hadn't been drawn. He had been able to see a few scenes within the mental "house" -Ryder seemingly going over her days at the Mansion so far.
They hadn't consisted of much beyond what care someone in her state would require, which was mostly carried out by Jean both because, despite the odd sensations she'd experienced, they felt she was best suited power-wise to be in such a position -a decision Cyclops couldn't argue, though he felt uneasy about each time Jean went in- and because from what Jean understood from the facility, it never seemed like Ryder was dealt with by anyone but males. They thought Jean would feel like a less hostile presence to her. As well, Jean had her level of empathy gained from the knowledge of Ryder's life.
Her husband's discomfort notwithstanding, Jean took the position willingly and, truth be told, had made similar "visitation attempts" to Xavier's, from a place of wanting to understand this girl. Both her pain, and how she could manage the degree she inflicted on others. That scene in the forest was the very embodiment of blind rage, and Jean wondered how Ryder's mind was processing that; if it even realized. But she had been treading even more carefully than Xavier.
Xavier was cognizant of Jean "stepping" here, like noticing remnants of footprints on the sidewalk. He had to smile at this. Though, he didn't perceive she had gotten as far as he now had.
This apparent fact pleased him all the more.[/hider]
[hider=Writing Sample 3: from Our Mind's Shadowed Hallways]Cool. Reserved.
Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, was often misunderstood as not caring when in fact he cared deeply.
So serious all the time because nothing was a throw-away to him; everything mattered.
Chief among it all, Jean Grey.
[i]The center of his world[/i].
She had seen something past his dour exterior, had been open enough to receive him that he could open up to her; show a side to her few, maybe only she, knew.
[i][b]Had[/b][/i].
[i][b]Knew[/b][/i].
Everything was changed now. All of their history ceasing to exist in Jean's mind,
[i]from a series of seemingly insignificant actions which turned into a majorly significant circumstance.[/i]
Sometimes Scott felt his entire life was defined this way.
[i]Four people climb into a cockpit. Strap in. Take off. . .[/i]
The next thing he knew he was living as a brain damaged, unwanted orphan.
[i]Three kids get into a fight. One never gets up. One can never go back. . .[/i]
Next thing he knew he was a mutant, and [i]that [/i]defined everything about his life going forward.
[i]Was that why. . ?
Two X-Men undertake a mission. Patrol a sector. Cross an invisible line. . .[/i]
Next thing, he was waking up in the Med Bay, his head feeling. . .[i]strange[/i].
And Jean woke up feeling he was a stranger.
She hadn't recognized the X Mansion, yet somehow had vague memories of Charles Xavier, and fractionally remembered the others. Ororo Munroe, Hank McCoy, Logan, etc. somehow she knew them, yet not Storm, The Beast, Wolverine -the X-Men as a whole, her place as one.
Was that why she remembered nothing of Scott Summers? He didn't know who he was if not Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. [i]But with Jean. . .[/i]
Was this proof he wasn't, in fact, anything else?
Taken with everything, that couldn't make sense.
Jean had no memory that she was even a mutant, but it wasn't as simple as saying she lost all memories pertaining to that, if she still recalled everyone else in some way. .
. .[i]none[/i] of them she would've met had she not been a mutant. Scott needed things to make sense, and so little of this did.
What had even happened? The other X-Men had been patrolling other sectors. No one saw.
They had to have been hit by something. . .
A subsequent probe of the area with Cerebro bore no residual signature of another mutant, no device had been located and with the aforementioned absence of signature, no one could've come to dispose of one.
. . .Xavier worked out they had in fact [i]encountered[/i] something, something that existed on a psychic plain- explaining why Jean was affected so drastically and Cyclops, comparatively nil.
So what was it? What was this? Coincidental? [i]Planned?[/i] Scott's money was on the latter, but then who was behind it?
Was this their intended result? [i]Or was there more to the plan he needed to watch out for. . ?[/i]
He sighed as he finished crossing the hallways. It was already taking a toll, what he had to deal with in his head. .
. .[i]that strange sensation growing stronger. [/i]
Which is why Scott now stood outside the presently closed door to Xavier's office.
And the voices he heard inside is why he now stood [i]paused[/i] outside that door.
Underway inside, rather, sounding like it had just concluded, was another of Xavier's psychic therapy sessions with Jean.
So far there'd been no breaththroughs. . .it didn't sound like one was made this time, either.
. . .Scott couldn't help eavesdropping.
He was finding it difficult figuring out how to be around her now. Where to start [i]over[/i].
Scott didn't want to get in Jean's way of remembering "herself". Desperate though he was for her to remember "them", he didn't want her to feel pressured to prioritize that. .
. .Events had a sequence. It wasn't for him to jump the line.
That's what he partially convinced himself of, anyway.
[i]But there was also the matter of. . . . .[/i][/hider]
[hr]
[center][b][i]X-Men Envisionings: one passionate fan's riff on the FOX[/i] X-Men [i]franchise.
Call it a fanfiction, call it what you will, but [u]don't miss out[/u]!![/i][/b][/center]
[center][sub][h2][color=#DAA06D][b]Part 9[/b][/color][color=#0096FF] [i]of 2nd Edition[/i][/color][color=#DAA06D][b] Now Released![/b][/color]
[color=#0096FF][b]Part 9[/b][/color][color=#DAA06D] [i]of 2nd Edition[/i][/color][color=#0096FF][b] Now Released![/b][/color][/h2][/sub]
[b]https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/193426-x-men-envisionings-a-pragmatic-adaptation-alternate-continuation/ooc[/b]
[sub][h3][color=#DAA06D][i] Back and[/i][/color][color=#DAA06D] [i]better than ever!![/i][/color]
[color=#0096FF][i]Back and[/i][/color][color=#0096FF] [i]better than ever!![/i][/color][/h3][/sub][/center]
[center][sub][h3][color=#E5E4E2][b][i]Consider becoming an X-Envisioner yourself:[/i][/b][/color]
[color=#7393B3][b][i]Consider becoming an X-Envisioner yourself:[/i][/b][/color][/h3][/sub]
https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/seeking-collaborators[/center]
[hr]
[center][b][sub][h3][color=blue]The [i]X-Men[/i] continues to be this e[b]x[/b]cellent odyssey[/color]
[color=yellow] The [i]X-Men[/i] continues to be this e[b]x[/b]cellent odyssey[/color][/h3][/sub]
[sub][h3][color=blue] [i]Where ever it takes me.[/i][/color]
[color=yellow][i]Where ever it takes me.[/i][/color][/h3][/sub][/b][/center]
[center][i][b]X-Men Envisionings[/b], a sector of [/i]
[i][sub][h2][b][color=silver]TechtraColour[/color][/b]
[color=hotpink]Te[/color][color=chartreuse]cht[/color][color=cyan]raC[/color][color=purple]olo[/color][color=hotpink]ur[/color][/h2][/sub][/i]
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=================[/center]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="slategray">It all never happened ~ but in your mind!</font><br><font color="black">It all never happened ~ but in your mind!</font></div></sub></span></div><br><div class="bb-center">Aspiring Screenwriter. Imagination whiz jumping between many 🌎s. <br>Self-taught Pic/🎶 Editor, VFX Coordinator & Mixer. <br>Independent student of 🎞; ever learning.</div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#e5e4e2"> 'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.</font><br><font color="#7393b3">'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.</font></div></sub><br><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#e5e4e2">The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'</font><br> <font color="#7393b3">The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'</font></div></sub></span></span></div><br><br>The comic book world is such a rich sandbox! Perhaps none richer than the <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> -mutations to mix, slice-of-life elements to turn into anything but ordinary -the lines are drawn but the colours exceed them <span class="bb-i">~care to embark on the e<span class="bb-i">X</span>ploration with me?</span><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i">*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into Fox Movies theme🎵*</span></div><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><span class="bb-b"><sub><div class="bb-h2"><font color="red">Interest Checks:</font><br> <font color="white">Interest Checks:</font></div></sub></span><br><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/191820-deoxys-a-next-gen-x-men-comic-superhero-rp/ooc"><span class="bb-b">DeoXys:</span> A next gen<span class="bb-i"> X-Men</span>/Comic Superhero RP</a><br><br><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/190866-a-cache-of-x-men-interest-checks/ooc"><span class="bb-b">Cache of other</span> <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> concepts.</a><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="Writing Sample 1: from X-Men: GenetiX">Writing Sample 1: from X-Men: GenetiX [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none"><span class="bb-i">Jean had been intending to search the facility for rooms unseen when she'd received Xavier's message about the injured guards. She'd changed course, but soon it became apparent someone had already had the mind to go check on them; a direction from Becker, possibly, following the radio disturbance.<br><br>Jean had decided then to return to medical to aid with the treatment of the guards when they were brought back. Besides a responsibility towards human life, she wanted to see what other damage the girl had caused and what she might further be able to infer about her from the guards. <br><br>Given her medical experience, she also didn't want to be missed. If she was going to go looking for places she wasn't meant to be, she wanted to be sure no one would be looking for her.<br><br>Ahead of that, however, Jean saw the director himself back in the hallways. She had tried to speak with him, but his impatience was clear despite his feigned accommodation -he apologized for keeping her in the dark, yet simply had too much to attend to after that mass technology glitch to go into anything more about it now. <br>If she had spoken with Xavier on the details Becker had divulged to him, which it seemed she had, then that was really all Becker could say at this time.<br><br>He'd cited privacy again when Jean expressed wanting at least to know this girl's name.<br><br>The guards were back in the building at that point, being taken to the Medical Centre, and Jean had fell in line.<br><br>There wasn't anything of operative note from them, either, and as Jean assisted with treating their injuries, she'd reflected on the non-conversation with Becker. Jean preferred not to tap people's minds unpermitted, or without dire cause. There was more variance to this rule when it came to enemies, however, and Becker was giving off a certain vibe....She'd thought she might catch a stray thought. It was clear the safety of anyone who encountered this girl was at risk, and through extension the girl's own safety. They weren't sure what all she had planned -if escaping and existing outside the facility was the extent of it, or if she had something else in mind.<br><br>All that took precedence over certain privacy. The girl's and Becker's.<br>However, Jean had found Becker's mind, your could say, shaded. She was sure with a little more time to concentrate she could see something through it, but that hadn't been afforded. She decided to try again after conducting her search of the facility. Gain an advantage by knowing more than he would expect and more of what he held in his mind.<br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br>The basement of Umbra Biogenetics had been conveyed as a place for old equipment; an office and research space no longer used since a new wing had been built two years ago; generally a place of no matter.<br><br>And that's exactly what Jean Grey had found when she went there now, for the first time. <br><br>She may not've found the hidden elevator shaft to the <span class="bb-i">sub-</span>basement, had it not been for the psychic signature she'd been following. An emanation which grew acutely perceptible from the top of stairs, and stronger with every step down.<br><br>Finding the shaft became a game of Hot and Cold, with the voice directing her taking the form of psychic imprints; like a handprint somewhere dust has settled.<br><br>The existence of this other basement in and of itself didn't register too strongly to someone who, back home, was used to having a hanger full with one or two aircraft at any given time, a war room, medical room and lab, an amplifier for telepaths, and of course where limitless simulations could exist in a limited-size room, all housed beneath your regular 18th century mansion. But the X-Men were open about it within their own walls. Their elevator opened onto a main floor hallway students may tread down in their day-to-day.<br><br>As Jean descended down this shaft, it was like walking into increasingly humid air; a growing weight pressing down on her perception.<br><br>When she came upon Ryder's room, it didn't feel like one where someone lived, but where they merely <span class="bb-i">survived</span>; the affect poignant. The psychic signature here, like no where else, added on an emotional weight. There was nothing more to be gleaned from this space. Jean moved on.<br><br>She next came to a research room, where her eyes moved over devices not unlike what were used above, or back at the X-Mansion, yet these ones felt deceptive in their familiarity. Jean flinched as someone with a headache may at a sudden noise. <br><br><span class="bb-b">Then she'd found the audio logs. . . .</span><br><br>While she listened, it was as though what they detailed came to life for Jean, at least in terms of the sensation she was experiencing; dialing up. But the mind working as it can when a person is concentrating deeply, or determined to finish something, the sensation was swept to the back of her mind until the point where it crashed back to the front, unable to be ignored any longer; the point when you realize you should've been paying attention to what your body was trying to tell you.<br><br>She managed to get out of the room, back up the shaft, to the main basement's stairs. Then she had to pause. Crouching down with a hand on the wall. <br><br>If the recurring experience before had been like psychic nausea, this was like being drugged. <br>Any processing her mind had to do happened as though through a warped lens: the psychic signatures hanging in the air like pieces of broken mirror, distorting the room; thoughts from the people above freely entering her head, but coming as though from a malfunctioning radio in an echo chamber. Jean closed her eyes. Even her own thoughts felt disembodied.<br><br>Her mind shifted to Scott, her hand -in the psychic space of her mind- clutching the handle to "their door", yet it was as though she couldn't get a hold on herself -couldn't manipulate the handle to gain access.<br><br>And there was another...a certain sensation that had grown on her, within her, now feeling like cascading wind chimes drifting further apart. She could feel them still connected, still well, yet their sound was beyond her reach.<br><br>Opening her eyes, Jean determinedly stood up.<br><br>She had been hesitant to attempt stairs feeling like this, when someone else could be affected by a misstep. But she knew the sensations were all mental; she was capable physically. She just had to concentrate on her body instead of her mind for a few moments; had to get out of here.<br><br>Managing once more, Jean drew a breath at the landing; then made a beeline for her quarters.<br><br>At some point along the way, she vaguely registered Becker down another hallway -he probably saw her- but there was no way she could make a second attempt at him now. <br><br>Locking the door once inside her room, Jean drew more collecting breaths, but had to delay hitting the bed to first place another long-distance telephone call. <br><br>That done, she curled up with the distress of all she'd just learned and the disturbance of the lingering sensation:<br>Her mind feeling like a PC made to process something it didn't have the hardware for, while other applications and programs were open. Its performance so hampered that even everyday tasks were met with a stall; impossible for anything to get done prior to a reboot.<br><br>Jean knew she wouldn't be able to communicate with Xavier or Scott until then.</span><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br>While both bodies experienced the startle reflex, and both heads turned in her direction, the girl hadn't exactly achieved her intended effect. <br>Alert described Cyclops and Professor Xavier's present state rather than scared. The two sitting watchfully, yet still.<br><br>Xavier even answered calmly. <font color="#7393b3">"I'm pleased to see you're still lively.</font> <br>In truth he knew she shouldn't be exerting herself, but he would follow her lead for the moment. <br><font color="#7393b3">As for where we came from, that would be a school I run in North America, for gifted young people such as yourself. I have made it my life's work to help those with strong powers out of troubled circumstances. As I once did for my friend here, Scott Summers."</font> He gestured towards him, thinking it may help this young mutant to know that the two before her had, perhaps, some level of understanding on what she was going through. <font color="#7393b3">"He now assists me in the running of the school, and along with a select group of my other grown pupils fights to protect those who require it. My name, is Professor Charles Xavier. Perhaps you could tell us yours?"</font></div></div><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="Writing Sample 2: from X-Men: GenetiX">Writing Sample 2: from X-Men: GenetiX [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none">Cyclops <span class="bb-i">was</span> questioning Ryder's choice of destination. Why plan so long to escape Umbra just to return to it? If she wanted to flatten the place, it sounded pretty clear she could've done that already, <span class="bb-i">when</span> she had initially escaped. <br><br>He didn't buy it. Something was up.<br>Either she was going there for a different reason than she'd stated -something she realized she needed that wasn't tech related; she didn't have remote access to? <br>Or she wasn't going there at all.<br><br>It did occur to him that their mini-X-jet was parked some distance in a clearing of the forest beyond the other side of Umbra. Could she have figured that out and wanted to steal their ride? <br><br>His sense of direction remained acute, though the more they travelled the more he lost ground on Ryder. He had the impulse to hurry -- he still had the advantage of size and could take much longer strides than she. But he knew better. Hurrying in this terrain at this time of day would only serve to set him back even more.<br><br>That's when he felt the ground shake beneath him, heard a sound like something being ripped from the earth at the same time, then heard the first scream, followed by gunfire. <br><br><font color="#0096ff">"What the Hell?!"</font><br><br>Things became oddly clearer some distance up ahead, and Cyclops registered it was because trees had fallen out of view. <font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-i">'Is she uprooting the forest, or...?'</span></font> For all he knew this could be another mutant. The worst case scenario was it was an innocent local acting our of fear. <br><br>More sounds echoed -- quieter and less directly than if they hadn't been in a forest, but enough that Cyclops had a sense he'd be coming up on some sickening scene -- then came the shriek. It brought his mind back to the parking lot when Ryder had been injured. He was sure she'd just been again. <span class="bb-i">This was not good.</span><br><br>Cyclops did hurry now -- recovering his footing fast each time he lost it. Pain was swept aside as adrenaline flooded in. He needed to get to the scene before -- <br>He froze. Eyes widening behind his visor as mangled screams replaced by something worse registered through his auditory system.<br><br>His basic human instincts said to stay firmly planted where he was, but the rest -his X-Men instincts- took over; charging towards danger being just part of the protocol. Moving on, he practically <span class="bb-i">felt</span> what he was hearing, as though his body knew what his mind couldn't possibly.<br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><span class="bb-i">Some distance away in two separate places, two others were feeling the carnage as well, though decidedly more viscerally.</span><br><br>She'd been making her way to them since the failed communication, sensing he needed her, and now, Jean Grey screamed, clutching at her head as she felt multiple minds die horrifically in succession, then at once. She didn't even realize she'd fallen until she made herself open her eyes -- going against her instinct to shut out the world by shutting her eyes; she needed to see the space of the world in front of her which was devoid of decimation. But it was no use. <br><br>She registered no pain from the fall -- registered nothing but the concoction brought on by her mutant telepathy and natural empathy.<br><br>Xavier had gone back to the roads, planning on influencing a mind just enough to have himself driven back to the facility. He had come across a few vehicles indicating the arrival of more townspeople without any current occupants, when he, too, felt the pain of cerebral death on repeat. <font color="#7393b3"><span class="bb-i">"AA-AH-AHHH!"</span></font> His hands, too, clutching at his head.<br><br>Separately, the telepaths fought through the pain as though physically sifting through the bodies to try and locate one in particular.<br><br>He couldn't be among them -<span class="bb-i">- he couldn't be.</span><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br>The townspeople were bold, but not that bold.<br>If the gruesome sounds coming from the altered forest weren't enough, the insane amount of gunfire certainly was. <br><br>They weren't joining this fray.<br><br>One, however, perhaps with the panicked thinking of <span class="bb-i">'is it following me?!'</span>, perhaps by sheer accident, or perhaps getting off a calculated shot before turning tail to collect their quarry another day, fired off another of those enhanced net guns.<br><br>This one <span class="bb-i">did</span> ensnare Cyclops, who went down painfully, an unsettling warmth bubbling out in all the places where he'd been shot before by Ryder, indicative of the stitching and packing no longer holding. Only he wasn't registering that just now. He had something else to worry about.<br><br>The netting had managed to bind one hand tightly in the very position required for his visor to engage. After a few scarce seconds of blasting apart the earth Cyclops shut his eyes, having to act blind until he could extricate his hand. <br><br><ul class="bb-list" style="white-space: normal;"><li>The good news was: he had blasted apart some of the net, as well.</li><li>The bad news was: the blasting of the already disturbed earth saw to the felling of another tree.</li></ul><br><br>It <span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">CRASHED</span></span> down onto another, branches breaking. A thick one <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">SLAMMING</span></span> into an incline below -- one Cyclops had only minutes before came down in a scarcely controlled skid -- the branch now careening down it.<br><br>If that branch had merely rolled from the higher elevation, he could've heard it and blasted it away. As it came with the noise of coniferous impact and breakage, however, he couldn't sort out what he was hearing in time.<br><br>Cyclops had managed to stand up.<br>This was one time he should've stayed down.<br><br>A yell was cut off as the air rushed out of his lungs -- the branch had slammed into him -- slammed him back into the thick trunk of another tree, and a series of tell-tale <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">CRRRKKKKHH</span>s</span> resounded.<br><br>The branch fell away and so did he, finding himself in a lethal cycle --body desperate for air, but every breath <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">CUT</span></span>, the pain <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">SEARED</span></span>, breathing felt perversely like the absolute <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">WRONG</span></span> thing to do --that he would tear his lungs to ribbons if he expanded them against his splintered chest.<br><br>But he was so in need.<br><br>He lay literally gasping for his life.<br><br>His mind clouded over....<br><br><span class="bb-i">And as it would happen, so did the surrounding area.</span><br><br>Fog permeated the woods so if any foolhardy or militant souls were left, they'd be absolutely blind. The fog was oddly sectional, however, and where bodies lay it was clearer.<br><br>Cyclops, no longer blasting, had a vague, visual registration of the scene before his faculties fell further away.<br><br><span class="bb-i">....Jean.<br>He'd thought of her. He'd seen her....<br>No. She shouldn't have been there. No where near this.<br>He felt his lungs fill with a breath he hadn't taken.<br>They filled gradually, deeply, painfully. <br>Yet they didn't shred.<br>Another...<br>...Familiar lips on his.</span><br><br><div class="bb-center">* * * *<br><span class="bb-i">Three Weeks Later</span></div><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"I <span class="bb-u">still</span> say, it doesn't matter who she is. That scene in the forest looked like a scene <span class="bb-u">I</span> would've left. Only <span class="bb-u">worse</span>. I know how you two feel about this sorta' thing, but you let Xavier put blocks in <span class="bb-u">your</span> mind when your power was only <span class="bb-u">considered</span> too dangerous. I mean come on -<span class="bb-u">Scott</span> was nearly among those in the pile out there."</span></font> concluded the gruff voice of Wolverine.<br><br>Jean didn't need to be reminded -of the scene or how close she came to losing Scott. Truly his only saving grace might've been that he hadn't been <span class="bb-i">right there</span> when it all went down; there was no entertaining the idea that Ryder would've discriminated. <font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i">"That carnage was a <span class="bb-u">reactionary</span> result,"</span></font> Jean pointed out in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, <font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i">"Ryder felt cornered. Threatened. She's been a lab experiment all her life. If either myself or Charles try anything in her mind, she might react on an instinctive level to the exact result we're trying to avoid."</span> </font><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"She's been <span class="bb-u">unconscious</span>. And the longer we wait the less she's probably gonna' stay that way."</span></font><br><br><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i">"We're not <span class="bb-u">waiting</span>, Logan."</span></font><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"Right. We've just been having regular round table discussions about how exactly we should act. Same difference."</span></font><br><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#4169e1"><span class="bb-i">"Not to forget, she may not be quite as unconscious as she's seemed,"</span></font></span> came the reasoning voice of X-Men's most hirsute; The Beast, <span class="bb-b"><font color="#4169e1"><span class="bb-i">"though, as far as we are aware, he has been proceeding without evidential certainty on the matter, Charles has been proceeding on that thought, none-the-less. So far the place hasn't come crashing down around us."</span></font></span><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"<span class="bb-u">So far</span>. If you ask me, Chuck is too close to this to base anything around. . .At least he's sound enough on the subject to keep her in the Danger Room."</span></font><br><br>And so that's where Ryder had been since the X-Men arrived on the unspeakable scene and jetted her, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Xavier back to the Mansion. <br>The Danger Room, some distance down the basement hallway from the Ready Room where the X-Men were having yet another meeting on the matter of "Ryder Xavier".<br><br>Despite Ryder's extensive injuries, she hadn't been housed in the Medical Lab for a moment. It was deemed too risky, especially as Cyclops would be recovering there. Not only was the Danger Room the most fortified of the entire building, being that the X-Men could train at realistic intensity, but the simulation technology it contained could also be utilized -and was- to make the environment appear more welcoming.<br><br>The very last thing they wanted was for Ryder to think she had just traded one captive situation for another.<br><br>They made the room look like one of the Mansion's bedrooms, complete with a window. That being said, they didn't want the gesture to be misconstrued as some ulterior motive illusion, and so they lowered the realism of the sim so it did appear, more or less, holographic. Ryder would be able to grasp her setting was manufactured, and they would be agreeable to changing it if she didn't appreciate their aesthetic. <br><br>They didn't delude <span class="bb-i">themselves</span> either --knowing full well once she was awake, it likely wouldn't take long for her to get a technic read on the place and be able to adjust the simulation at will. But at least anything she could do with it would be contained within this space. Beyond it, they had removed anything they thought she could use as a weapon, going analog where possible. <br><br>A return trip had also been made to Umbra within these past three weeks, with the intent to shut the place down. They were unable to locate Becker, and the only hidden rooms they found were the ones Jean already came across. But they had seen to absorbing the young charges into Xavier's institute, and had recovered some things, including -thanks to Beast's eye for advanced technology- a bit of the material the guards had had which blocked Ryder's powers. Beast had what amounted to an educated idea that's what it could do, anyway, and was currently in the midst of understanding it so he could do something with it himself.<br><br>In the meantime, Xavier had been making regular visits to the Danger Room to visit his daughter.<br>And for at least the past week, he had been making mental visits, too. Even in true coma, a mind was still active where the body wasn't.<br><br>He took it slow. Like a new neighbour making themselves known in no greater way than merely being outside, doing things in their own yard. Smiling when they'd catch your eye, but not making an attempt to draw you into conversation. <br><br>Today, Xavier decided to knock politely on the door, as for the first time the curtains hadn't been drawn. He had been able to see a few scenes within the mental "house" -Ryder seemingly going over her days at the Mansion so far.<br><br>They hadn't consisted of much beyond what care someone in her state would require, which was mostly carried out by Jean both because, despite the odd sensations she'd experienced, they felt she was best suited power-wise to be in such a position -a decision Cyclops couldn't argue, though he felt uneasy about each time Jean went in- and because from what Jean understood from the facility, it never seemed like Ryder was dealt with by anyone but males. They thought Jean would feel like a less hostile presence to her. As well, Jean had her level of empathy gained from the knowledge of Ryder's life.<br><br>Her husband's discomfort notwithstanding, Jean took the position willingly and, truth be told, had made similar "visitation attempts" to Xavier's, from a place of wanting to understand this girl. Both her pain, and how she could manage the degree she inflicted on others. That scene in the forest was the very embodiment of blind rage, and Jean wondered how Ryder's mind was processing that; if it even realized. But she had been treading even more carefully than Xavier.<br><br>Xavier was cognizant of Jean "stepping" here, like noticing remnants of footprints on the sidewalk. He had to smile at this. Though, he didn't perceive she had gotten as far as he now had. <br><br>This apparent fact pleased him all the more.</div></div><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="Writing Sample 3: from Our Mind's Shadowed Hallways">Writing Sample 3: from Our Mind's Shadowed Hallways [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none">Cool. Reserved.<br><br>Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, was often misunderstood as not caring when in fact he cared deeply. <br>So serious all the time because nothing was a throw-away to him; everything mattered. <br><br>Chief among it all, Jean Grey.<br><span class="bb-i">The center of his world</span>.<br><br>She had seen something past his dour exterior, had been open enough to receive him that he could open up to her; show a side to her few, maybe only she, knew.<br><br><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">Had</span></span>.<br><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">Knew</span></span>.<br><br>Everything was changed now. All of their history ceasing to exist in Jean's mind,<br><span class="bb-i">from a series of seemingly insignificant actions which turned into a majorly significant circumstance.</span><br><br>Sometimes Scott felt his entire life was defined this way.<br><br><span class="bb-i">Four people climb into a cockpit. Strap in. Take off. . .</span><br>The next thing he knew he was living as a brain damaged, unwanted orphan.<br><br><span class="bb-i">Three kids get into a fight. One never gets up. One can never go back. . .</span><br>Next thing he knew he was a mutant, and <span class="bb-i">that </span>defined everything about his life going forward.<br><br><span class="bb-i">Was that why. . ?<br><br>Two X-Men undertake a mission. Patrol a sector. Cross an invisible line. . .</span><br>Next thing, he was waking up in the Med Bay, his head feeling. . .<span class="bb-i">strange</span>.<br><br>And Jean woke up feeling he was a stranger.<br><br>She hadn't recognized the X Mansion, yet somehow had vague memories of Charles Xavier, and fractionally remembered the others. Ororo Munroe, Hank McCoy, Logan, etc. somehow she knew them, yet not Storm, The Beast, Wolverine -the X-Men as a whole, her place as one. <br><br>Was that why she remembered nothing of Scott Summers? He didn't know who he was if not Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. <span class="bb-i">But with Jean. . .</span><br>Was this proof he wasn't, in fact, anything else?<br><br>Taken with everything, that couldn't make sense.<br><br>Jean had no memory that she was even a mutant, but it wasn't as simple as saying she lost all memories pertaining to that, if she still recalled everyone else in some way. . <br>. .<span class="bb-i">none</span> of them she would've met had she not been a mutant. Scott needed things to make sense, and so little of this did.<br><br>What had even happened? The other X-Men had been patrolling other sectors. No one saw.<br><br>They had to have been hit by something. . .<br><br>A subsequent probe of the area with Cerebro bore no residual signature of another mutant, no device had been located and with the aforementioned absence of signature, no one could've come to dispose of one.<br><br>. . .Xavier worked out they had in fact <span class="bb-i">encountered</span> something, something that existed on a psychic plain- explaining why Jean was affected so drastically and Cyclops, comparatively nil. <br><br>So what was it? What was this? Coincidental? <span class="bb-i">Planned?</span> Scott's money was on the latter, but then who was behind it? <br>Was this their intended result? <span class="bb-i">Or was there more to the plan he needed to watch out for. . ?</span><br><br>He sighed as he finished crossing the hallways. It was already taking a toll, what he had to deal with in his head. . <br>. .<span class="bb-i">that strange sensation growing stronger. </span><br><br>Which is why Scott now stood outside the presently closed door to Xavier's office.<br>And the voices he heard inside is why he now stood <span class="bb-i">paused</span> outside that door.<br><br>Underway inside, rather, sounding like it had just concluded, was another of Xavier's psychic therapy sessions with Jean. <br>So far there'd been no breaththroughs. . .it didn't sound like one was made this time, either.<br><br>. . .Scott couldn't help eavesdropping.<br><br>He was finding it difficult figuring out how to be around her now. Where to start <span class="bb-i">over</span>.<br>Scott didn't want to get in Jean's way of remembering "herself". Desperate though he was for her to remember "them", he didn't want her to feel pressured to prioritize that. . <br>. .Events had a sequence. It wasn't for him to jump the line.<br><br>That's what he partially convinced himself of, anyway.<br><span class="bb-i">But there was also the matter of. . . . .</span></div></div><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">X-Men Envisionings: one passionate fan's riff on the FOX</span> X-Men <span class="bb-i">franchise.<br>Call it a fanfiction, call it what you will, but <span class="bb-u">don't miss out</span>!!</span></span></div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><sub><div class="bb-h2"><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-b">Part 9</span></font><font color="#0096ff"> <span class="bb-i">of 2nd Edition</span></font><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-b"> Now Released!</span></font><br> <font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-b">Part 9</span></font><font color="#daa06d"> <span class="bb-i">of 2nd Edition</span></font><font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-b"> Now Released!</span></font></div></sub><br><span class="bb-b"><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/193426-x-men-envisionings-a-pragmatic-adaptation-alternate-continuation/ooc" title="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/193426-x-men-envisionings-a-pragmatic-adaptation-alternate-continuation/ooc">roleplayerguild.com/topics/193426-x-m…</a></span><br><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i"> Back and</span></font><font color="#daa06d"> <span class="bb-i">better than ever!!</span></font><br><font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-i">Back and</span></font><font color="#0096ff"> <span class="bb-i">better than ever!!</span></font></div></sub></div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#e5e4e2"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">Consider becoming an X-Envisioner yourself:</span></span></font><br> <font color="#7393b3"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">Consider becoming an X-Envisioner yourself:</span></span></font></div></sub><br><a href="https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/seeking-collaborators" title="https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/seeking-collaborators" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionin…</a></div><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-b"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="blue">The <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> continues to be this e<span class="bb-b">x</span>cellent odyssey</font><br><font color="yellow"> The <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> continues to be this e<span class="bb-b">x</span>cellent odyssey</font></div></sub><br><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="blue"> <span class="bb-i">Where ever it takes me.</span></font><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">Where ever it takes me.</span></font></div></sub></span></div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">X-Men Envisionings</span>, a sector of </span><br><span class="bb-i"><sub><div class="bb-h2"><span class="bb-b"><font color="silver">TechtraColour</font></span><br> <font color="hotpink">Te</font><font color="chartreuse">cht</font><font color="cyan">raC</font><font color="purple">olo</font><font color="hotpink">ur</font></div></sub></span><br><a href="https://trytrip3.wixsite.com/techtracolour" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">trytrip3.wixsite.com/techtracolour</a> <br><br>=================</div><br><br></div>
Nallore
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