Current
I feel like, past a certain point, I should be arrested for writing character descriptions due to my unlawful use of adjectives.
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5 mos ago
If there were to be a MARVEL Pool Championship, who would be the victor: Captain America or Cyclops? 😎🎱-- Heheh, feel free to VM your answer for the fun of it.
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5 mos ago
3 hours spent incorporating about 3 edits into my story (shifted/adjusted scenes, content extended, text adjustments) - and I consider that an afternoon well spent.
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7 mos ago
Those days when you wake up and think: "That's not the accurate wording for that sound effect." Then delight in finding just the right one.
7 mos ago
Wow. The range of sound you experience when you listen to stuff through headphones! 🌌
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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!!
I've gotten Gryffindor and then Ravenclaw when I retook. I think if I were actually at Hogwarts I'd be Ravenclaw since that's the one I would *want* (sort of like how Harry said "not Slytherin")- but Hufflepuff would be my second. : )
I got that taking it as a character, and love the atmosphere of the common room! Hufflepuff unduly gets a lame rep, I think.
A Summers brothers feature you won't want to miss! New characters alongside old favourites! Plus - mysterious goings-on or just par for the mutant course?
If all that's preventing Clark Kent from being recognized as Superman is his glasses... ...then what about all his government issued photo I.D.?
And speaking of that, since Cyclops can never remove his glasses, does he even have any photo I.D.? I'm thinking he either better make sure he never gets pulled over when he's driving as a civilian, or he's been given a pass on the "no glasses" photo rule by instead having "MUTANT" stamped across any card he has.
Part 2 of my first proper storyline -featuring Havok / Summers brothers interaction, a new character in a B-Story with Iceman and Rogue, and a plot that'll affect the mutant community going forward- is now up.
It appeared Max knew Edus from a vision, but...somehow that didn't explain things entirely for Jaclyn. Sure he might know somebody from a precognition, but Max seemed to have very real feelings towards Edus.
Max had described the visions appearing so vivid it was as though they actually happened, and Jaclyn could for sure understand that. She supposed it could also be like watching a movie and getting invested in the characters.
But even still...it actually seemed to mean something to Max, like he had genuinely felt a loss instead of merely witnessing one. If he were an empath, too, that would explain it. But he hadn't mentioned that he was.
Jaclyn wasn't about to be that "hey, wait a minute" person - what bearing did it have on anything now, anyway? Plus, Max seemed to make a conscious decision to move on.
And move on he did, to her. "Oh -I didn't want to but into the conversation you were having," Jaclyn explained why she hadn't introduced herself before, with a genuine, calm smile, gesturing with a flat, upturned hand at everyone else who'd been in the hall. "I'm Jaclyn. More known as OfAll, as my powers let me use anyone else's powers that I've witnessed. If I can make sense of them enough," she stated, as she brought her hands to the back of her hair to collect it and tuck it down the back of her shirt collar.
She preferred it that way when she was in crowds.
"Also only one at a time, for a span of time," she added, finishing with her hair adjustment. She raised her brows at his powers. They sounded like a pretty interesting combination. And by her following expression she seemed to think he had an equally interesting point RE: kinda just what any mutant power is really.
"Oh, by the way," she now turned to grab a certain something out of the fridge, then turning a small grin on Max, "I think you mentioned something about this," she handed him a bottle of sparkling water. "Great refreshment, I agree." In fact, she turned back to the fridge to grab one for herself.
Jaclyn was of a few minds when it can to that charcuterie board:
She had already had an early lunch with her sister. However, one could always find room for something from such a spread. The seemingly honeyed fruits and macarons were most drawing her eye - plus that attractive purple something between what looked to her like pepperoni and mozzerella cheese; she's sure she'd never seen that in the fridge before.
Could she get away with stashing just a bit in a container for later, without seeming rude? Her years on the streets still hung with her: when there was food around, you stocked up in some way or another, just in case. Plus, Imogene would love this.
Helping oneself to something that somebody else prepared not necessarily with you in mind -did Edus commonly assemble this for his + other's enjoyment?- well, there were just things. Social things about that.
In the end, she was given an "out" so to speak, as Edus followed up with a question. Which she answered with a casualness that belied any overthinking just a minute ago. "Oh, yeah. Somebody new came in. Just apparently the way they did caused a bit of a stir."
Jaclyn was about to explain how she'd actually come to grab a sparkling water for the new arrival when Tatl spoke up about not telling her brother, who had apparently made a gluttonous raid of the cookie jar some other time. Jaclyn made an appropriate face: The audacity! "I bet you do," she said in response to Tatl insisting she knew what she was doing when it came to flying.
In Jaclyn's experience, the one who knew a mutant's limitations the best -excepting Professor Xavier- was the individual mutant themself. Though, there were two kinds of limits; the limit of power, and the limit of personal ability a.k.a. comfort zone.
In any case, Tatl was still very young, and Jaclyn wasn't one to be irresponsible, so she added: "But you know what? Most of the others here have never gone up high. Not on their own steam, anyway. That makes it scary. And since they care about you, well, it just gives them near heart attacks to see you flying high! So it's a good thing you're so respectful listening." She smiled. Then, getting an idea started to suggest: "Maybe sometime-" but she wouldn't finish.
Just then the others came in - with Max responding to Edus as though he'd seen a ghost --and then, Jaclyn got it. Well, she got that something had happened, anyway.
[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]
[u][b][center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tdICi-Xr-tY&list=PLayRnuK2I-SYTruTQmq3YU4YHtCdONzxL&index=8[/youtube][/center][/b][/u]
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 [b][i]~care to embark on the e[i]X[/i]ploration with me?[/i][/b]
[center][i][b]*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into FOX Movies theme🎵*[/b][/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]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][i]don't miss out[/i][/u]!![/b][/center]
[center][sub][h2][color=#0096FF][b][i]2nd Edition[/i][/b][/color][color=#DAA06D] [b]Now Releasing![/b][/color]
[color=#DAA06D][b][i]2nd Edition[/i][/b][/color][color=#0096FF] [b]Now Releasing![/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=#0096FF] [i]better than ever!![/i][/color]
[color=#0096FF][i]Back and[/i][/color][color=#DAA06D] [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]
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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><span class="bb-u"><span class="bb-b"><div class="bb-center"><iframe src="//youtube.com/embed/tdICi-Xr-tY?theme=dark" frameborder="0" width="496" height="279" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></span></span><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-b"><span class="bb-i">~care to embark on the e<span class="bb-i">X</span>ploration with me?</span></span><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into FOX Movies theme🎵*</span></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">X-Men Envisionings: one passionate fan's riff on the FOX <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> franchise.<br>Call it a fanfiction, call it what you will, but <span class="bb-u"><span class="bb-i">don't miss out</span></span>!!</span></div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><sub><div class="bb-h2"><font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">2nd Edition</span></span></font><font color="#daa06d"> <span class="bb-b">Now Releasing!</span></font><br> <font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">2nd Edition</span></span></font><font color="#0096ff"> <span class="bb-b">Now Releasing!</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="#0096ff"> <span class="bb-i">better than ever!!</span></font><br><font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-i">Back and</span></font><font color="#daa06d"> <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>
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