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Missing the days when I could just pop a DVD into my external player and have it play on my laptop without the need of a player app from the ms appstore (all roads seem busted atm).
1 day ago
Current
Missing the days when I could just pop a DVD into my external player and have it play on my laptop without the need of a player app from the ms appstore (all roads seem busted atm).
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1 day ago
Brain on fire--But not whose you'd think! Don't tell me you've waited this long to check out last week's Envisionings post?! telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmen…
4 days ago
VSauce's video on if chairs exist is mindblowing like I've never.
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8 days ago
Going through one of those times when I can't tell if I messed up a previously-thought-good piece of writing, or if that's just the ill-curved glasses of mental illness distorting the view.😒
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9 days ago
One of the stupidest things in media is when vital information must be given, and characters waste time going: "Listen! If you'd just listen! You don't understand!" Instead of just spewing it forth.
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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!!
Xavier met Ryder with a still level look. That 'death wish' remark furthered his internal unease, reminding him how carefully he still ought to tread.
Perhaps they had made a critical misstep before . .Yes, even without this conversation Xavier did feel responsibility for the scene that had transpired in the forest.
It surprised him to hear her mention "NewCastle", though his face gave little away. For all he appeared, and all he would answer to, he may've missed it. "You absolutely shouldn't."
"Indeed, with the life you've been subjected to, another moment of it in a place which does not feel right, where you do not feel safe," his eyes closed as he shook his head.
Then carefully chose his next words, "but there may well be something here for you. . . left unsaid was how he could be here for her. . .Xavier knew, at this time, she didn't care. Perhaps, she would even be more offended by the proposal. Instead, he added in nearly the same breath, "safety enough, at least, to take you through the rest of your recovery. A conclusion you've already come to, if I'm not mistaken, or I would have to question why any of us are still here."
Xavier patiently sipped his own tea, and made to look out the window himself so he wouldn't just be staring at her, though she's where a large part of his attention remained.
Not all, however, as it was strange. Over the years Xavier had come to think, light-heartedly to himself, that his secondary mutation was connecting to young people. So many troubled youths walked through these halls, at peace once they understood what he had for them. Certainly there would be those who, to put it one way, brought more "teenage attitude". Yet he'd been capable of conveying his truths to each.
Though it wasn't how Ryder remained on high alert towards him, and the Mansion, which was affecting him at the moment. He was no fool. He did not expect to win her trust and gift her security easily. He knew it would be a matter of consistency more than anything else. He expected the result to come in no short time at all.
No, what was affecting him was, for the first time, he felt he wasn't sure what to say to this youth. Not that the words he was speaking weren't coming as easily as they ever did. They were.
Yet in these silent moments. . .though no pressure was felt to fill them as quiet was a most valuable resource for a mind, he did find himself feeling...awkward? And Xavier realized he was speaking to Ryder almost as he would to any other he sought to help.
He felt, on this tour, in this conversation, towards her almost exactly the same as he felt guiding anyone for the first time within this place. . .He didn't know how to connect with her as a father.
It was as if in the absence of that knowing, he naturally assumed the form in which he felt most like himself: a mentor.
This troubled him. The most natural thing to him was feeling just the opposite, now.
As if he'd drawn a familiar picture with inverted colours.
Xavier was taken from this reverie as Ryder made her statement.
He met her stare, but only responded to the next of what she said: "Well in order to do that, you would first have to tell me what that is you were trying to do?" Xavier's tone was still calm, though the possible threat didn't sit well with him. One of his X-Men, in fact his first and first student, who he'd come to consider a son and who was approaching fatherhood now himself, had been closest to Ryder's mass carnage. As such, Xavier received the threat as though it were somewhat specific, even though he understood it was general.
"You broke out of Umbra only to seem hellbent on its destruction afterward. This leaves me curious as to why you didn't simply destroy it as a means to break out?"
Location: Asteroid M Skills: Power Mimicry - Active Power: Chaos Magic Light Manipulation
Hardly any sooner than the words leaving OfAll's mouth, bluffing that Cortez was missing something, that her attention was suddenly taken by fireworks erupting from Antoinette.
OfAll gasped --she'd had no idea Antoinette could even do that. Instinctively OfAll put her arms up guarding herself, though trying not to cover her face completely so she could still keep track of what was going on. Fully expecting to feel fresh burns on her arms -she was the closest to Antoinette- it was a refreshing surprise that the wayward sparks didn't make contact.
In fact, the only ones they did hit seemed to be Perry and Lance, as far as a cursory scan of the room informed. Burns. The injury of the day it seemed.
OfAll could see Antoinette was panicking now, yet shortly, she seemed to make the choice to channel her panic. OfAll turned her head in the direction Antoinette was focusing, and saw duplicates of Guin. She also saw some apparition of Perry's do something that caused Cortez to float.
They seemed to have Cortez more on the ropes now, and OfAll wanted to help both Antoinette and Robert, who she could hear continuing his impassioned plea though she couldn't make out all the words. She felt badly he was essentially the only one left with Magneto. She should hung back and tried some Light-shielding, although she might not've managed it there either.
OfAll did agree focusing on Cortez seemed the better solution -a way of stopping Magneto indirectly. Except now she was realizing Cortez's boosting must've had a timeclock on them than be related to his attention. Magneto's wayward powers didn't seem interrupted in the least even while Cortez was getting pummeled. That meant taking him down wouldn't necessarily be the end-all to this calamity.
--Penguins?!
OfAll at first thought she was seeing things -the oddest, and adoreable things- before she heard Max speaking to Antoinette. Certainly an imaginative way to calm a teammate! OfAll smiled, somewhat. Sparing a hope that those penguins were 100% magic and not like, transported here from somewhere. She'd hate for some innocent animals to be caught up in this.
OfAll then heard -following the crack of Guin's kick on Cortez's face- Mary speaking of that time things went awry at the Mansion. A distraction. . . .OfAll was suspecting something of the same. Why hadn't she responded more actively? Maybe just jetted out of this corridor all together to do some sleuthing of her own?
An even louder sound of impact snapped OfAll's attention effectively back to the action, where Cortez was certainly paying for being the distractor. And OfAll was more heavily feeling the potential seriousness of the situation even as the immediate pressures seemed to be subsiding; Magneto's powers were leveling off. Antoinette's seemed to be as well.
Perhaps knocking Cortez senseless did work to dial down his doings.
OfAll now realized where Miranda was as well, and figured or at least hoped Flynn was still with her, though OfAll couldn't see him from her present position.
She thought Pietro could've held back some attitude, being Magneto had just been spun out of control by one of his own nearly to the extent of destroying what he'd worked so hard to build. But then, Pietro was having his own worst day, so that probably was an exercise in maturity compared to what he might be feeling like doing.
The two's exchange was interesting.
When Marygold, then, began talking about "his sister", OfAll at first thought she meant Pietro's. She'd had no idea, either, that Cortez had one.
Listening, the gears started to turn in OfAll's mind. The surmising of some Death Star explosion point was unsettling, though OfAll wasn't too concerned about such a thing. As she pointed out: "If they wanted to blow up the place or slam it into Earth, they could do that any time. The one they'd ultimately need to distract would be Magneto,", she gestured to him, as if to say 'and that was already accomplished'. "We were brought here today," OfAll went on, "that has to play into this."
Now she looked at Magneto. "How many on here can create illusions? We could be being framed," she added to the team.
Inspired by watching a video on the Marvel animated feature Next Avengers, the premise for this RP is an team made up of children of the X-Men (beyond that, my intention is not to reflect Next Avengers i.e. parents have not all been killed; plot will not be a riff off of the animated feature's).
The children should be teenagers at the point of RP, but you may flashback to depict earlier points in their lives.
This is intended to be an OC-centric RP, with the canon world largely reference-only. That being said, players may choose to field their character's canon-parents as NPCs for more depth if they want to, or I as GM may field them in the rare and temporary instances where the plot makes more sense to have them involved.
Both parents don't need to have been X-Men. The other could be another mutant or a non-mutant (or another powered person if we want to cross this with other Marvel or even DC properties: child of Batman and Mystique, anyone? Carol Danvers x Scott Summers?)
That out of the way, I'll be playing 2 characters, though I thought of another 2 characters up-for-grabs* if they speak to you, otherwise I'm looking forward to seeing your OCs!
*(if more than one player is interested in the same character, I may go first-come first-served, or PM each player to see what they may have in mind for the character and lock it down based on that).
I'm also game for half-siblings if you have an idea involving one of the parents already listed. Just talk it out with whoever is playing that character's kid to agree on the story there. An open relationship? A previous relationship? Or something more. . . .Sinister.
So without further ado:
The Plot They could be the 2nd Gen of X-Men - right now they're just teenagers living life in the X Mansion. Until a stumble across some private files reveals a truth about their lives has been kept hidden from them. The files only tell part of the story, and it's their turn to keep a secret as they embark on a journey to discover the rest. What they don't know is all points on their path have been carefully orchestrated by someone playing the long game.
Several, though not all, of the 2nd Gen X-Men didn't come into this world the way they've thought. While the individuals who they know to be their parents may still well be, scientific shenanigans were involved.
The specifics of this history will be player's choice (straight up stolen DNA grown in a lab; DNA injected into a host; naturally conceived baby stolen to have additional super DNA incorporated into their bloodstream, etc.)
In any case, the children were discovered / recovered by the X-Men and raised, as far as the children have known, like nothing unusual has surrounded their existence. Though ever since, the X-Men have included specific DNA analysis in annual check-ups to ensure the children remain stable and there are no surprises.
It's this data (though not the "full" truth to which it pertains) that the teenagers happen on.
What no one is aware of, is the scientist responsible for the shenanigans in the first place, has remained involved...a trusted old friend of Professor Charles Xavier, who has been involved in the DNA analysis all this time, and has been allowing the X-Men to raise these "scientific experiments" until this point when the next stage of their plan can be engaged: lead the children into an emotional and physical testing ground, to further study them for a much bigger plot. They're interested in both the children who they had a scientific hand in, a.k.a. "the experiments" and those they didn't, the "non experiments", with one in particular being their most prized subject.
The Characters
In Play (to be updated as applications are approved)
Age: 16 Child Of: Jean Grey and Cyclops
Mutation: Perxephone was born without eyes. Only perfectly formed empty sockets. This has lead to a unique form of telekinesis which activated during her first few months -her brain regularly sending out waves that "feel" her surroundings, and interprets that input to create a schematic in her head.
Think of a blueprint, but instead of white lines on blue paper it's green lines on black. She can "see" the size of a room, the furniture etc. people; her parents -all in general outline.
Besides her lack of eyes, Perxephone also has an unusually more pink/reddish skin tone.
Personality Section 1: A thinker like Scott, and a "connecter" like Jean, you could say Xephie is equal parts logic and feeling. Any temper-genes from her parents seem to have skipped her. She is not self-conscious about her mutation, but to not draw unwanted attention while out in mixed-public, she'll generally wear a pair of glasses not unlike her Dad's, except with regular lenses (bearing a green tint) instead of ruby quartz.
Personality Section 2: "Whatever it is will make no difference to my life."
Reality of Existence: Grown in a Lab.
Age: 17 Child Of: The Beast and Carly.
Mutation: Heightened senses that are more of a challenge than a superpower. Sight: The first time Liam opened his eyes, the lights of the room caused damage to them, rendering him legally blind. He does have residual sight but must wear dark glasses to save it. Remarkably he has a higher degree of vision in environments nearly devoid of light, which Beast reasons is the result of Liam's mutation continuing / compensating for the damage. Touch: This sensitivity is akin to the medical condition allodynia, though it varies across Liam's body with his hands being the most sensitive, requiring him most of the time to wear gloves specially manufactured by Beast to be comfortable, protective, yet functional. Hearing: Not quite at the level of his sight as the first loud noises Liam heard didn't deafen him, they did cause him severe pain. Where people generally would experience damage to their hearing if they heard something at a high enough decibel level over prolonged periods of time, Liam would experience damage much sooner, if not for some more Beast-brand protective gear in the form of "reverse hearing aids"; allowing Liam to hear less than he naturally would. Smell: While Liam has the typical amount of sensory receptor sites, it's as if they're working at 200%; he doesn't take in more scents, he just takes them in to a more concentrated degree. Fortunately as he's grown up, Liam has learned to "filter" the scents around him as one might a cacophony of conversation, though he can still become overwhelmed by particularly strong scents and if he tries to "hone in", say to try scent-tracking, he can't manage it long enough to be useful. Taste: As you can imagine, this is also more concentrated. He might "go wild" when bored and actually season his food.
Personality Section 1: In contrast to his physical sensitivities, Liam's emotionally pretty tough. Not coming off as vulnerable unless he's at a particular point of fatigue.
Personality Section 2: "What if it changes everything? I'd rather stick to the truth I've known."
Reality of Existence: Naturally.
Age: 16 Child Of: Nightcrawler x Unknown
Mutation: Similar to Nightcrawler, except for a few additions, other than her purple skin rather than Indigo:
Teleportation: Splinter can instantly transport herself from one location to another, though with a shorter range than her alleged father.
Enhanced Agility, Flexibility, and Night Vision: She is able move gracefully and see in the dark.
Prehensile Tail: She has the capability of using her tail as another hand, which can be useful, or a problem due to her bad habit of taking was is not hers.
Ability to Cling to Surfaces: Her adhesive hands and feet help her stick to walls and ceilings without much issue.
Energy Manipulation: Splinter can generate several needles of energy which can be used as projectiles, due to her lack of control over them, she cannot create any projectile larger than a pen without causing severe exhaustion to her body, hence her mutant name as "Splinter". This also allows her to deflect energy used against her, not without harm, but making it at the very least non-lethal.
Personality 1: A cheerful yet erratic girl with kleptomaniac tendencies, getting her in trouble often despite the fact that she is aware of her issue, and returns the items she has taken after a while, unless it was food, in which case, she most likely devoured it under her bed's covers. Overall she tries to look at things positively.
Personality 2: "I trust my parents. They must've had a good reason."
Reality of Existence: Naturally, she was born not to Nightcrawler and a human, but to Azazel (Nightcrawler's biological father) and an unregistered mutant only known as Amanda Kalis, making Marcelina a sister to Wagner, rather than his daughter, possible reason as to why they get along so well. Her mother had an advanced ability of manipulating energy into spears, blades, and large projectiles.
Her mother fell to an unknown sickness a mere two years after Marcelina was born, and, as it was to be expected from a being like Azazel, was abandoned. Marcelina was saved and now lives a calm life in the X-men mansion, treating all the mutants as her siblings, often getting up to mischief along with them.
Up-For-Grabs (if you want to join but aren't sure of a character to get started)
Age: 15 Child Of: Storm and Wolverine.
Mutation: Environmental Healing. Essentially they can heal damage done to flora on a cellular level. Cure trees of diseases, heal burned foliage etc.
Personality 1: They're like night and day depending where you find them; in nature or in a city that chokes it.
Personality 2: Player's Choice. As detailed in The Plot, a truth about your character's life has been kept from them. For this section, select (by erasing all other options) the sentence that best characterizes how you'll play their reaction going forward:
"I trust my parents. They must've had a good reason."
"Whatever it is will make no difference to my life."
"What if it changes everything? I'd rather stick to the truth I've known."
"I feel so betrayed."
"What does this mean about who I am?"
"I want to know just for knowledge's sake."
Reality of Existence: Select which one applies to your character; you may elaborate if you like
Naturally.
Grown in a Lab
Implanted into Host.
DNA Manipulated Post-Birth
Other
You may leave this detail up to the GM, using this section then to note any scenario you wouldn't be comfortable with.
Age: Player's Choice. Child Of: Gambit and Rogue
Mutation: As their Dad can put energy into objects, and their Mom can take energy and powers, Amplifique has the ability to give energy to people via a touch. Essentially a booster, though not like Cortez as Amplifique boosts basic energy/strength not powers, and then, not to superhuman levels. They just "top you up", allowing your muscles, say, to work at their peak condition for a length of time, or for you to go from down n' out to feeling like you've had a good night's sleep and optimal nutrition. However, because they are Gambit's kid, they can boost too much and cause you to explode have a heart attack. So like Rogue, best to avoid touching someone for too long. Their control also fluctuate with their own condition i.e. when healthy they can touch you without boosting you if they/you don't want. When stressed or tired they might boost at any touch, whether meaning to or not.
Personality Section 1: Player's Choice.
Personality Section 2: Player's Choice. As detailed in The Plot, a truth about your character's life has been kept from them. For this section, select (by erasing all other options) the sentence that best characterizes how you'll play their reaction going forward:
"I trust my parents. They must've had a good reason."
"Whatever it is will make no difference to my life."
"What if it changes everything? I'd rather stick to the truth I've known."
"I feel so betrayed."
"What does this mean about who I am?"
"I want to know just for knowledge's sake."
Reality of Existence: Select which one applies to your character; you may elaborate if you like
Naturally.
Grown in a Lab
Implanted into Host.
DNA Manipulated Post-Birth
Other
You may leave this detail up to the GM, using this section then to note any scenario you wouldn't be comfortable with.
Make Your Own
Name a.k.a. "Mutant Name"(if applicable): Age: Child Of:
Mutation:
Personality Section 1: (a brief description)
Personality Section 2: As detailed in The Plot, a truth about your character's life has been kept from them. For this section, select (by erasing all other options) the sentence that best characterizes how you'll play their reaction going forward:
"I trust my parents. They must've had a good reason."
"Whatever it is will make no difference to my life."
"What if it changes everything? I'd rather stick to the truth I've known."
"I feel so betrayed."
"What does this mean about who I am?"
"I want to know just for knowledge's sake."
Reality of Existence: Select which one applies to your character; you may elaborate if you like
Naturally.
Grown in a Lab
Implanted into Host.
DNA Manipulated Post-Birth
Other
You may leave this detail up to the GM, using this section then to note any scenario you wouldn't be comfortable with.
Go ahead and submit your CS in the colour you'd like for your character's dialogue!
You ever feel tired? Not the regular stayed-up-umpteen-hours-doing-stuff-and-now-your-body-needs-to-catch-some-Zzz kind.
The kind where you're always "getting through", or "getting over", yet never feeling like you're really getting to that other side.
No matter that you can see it.
That light at the end of the tunnel turns out just to be light let in from a gap, in the middle of a longer tunnel.
Master EffeX turned his head. His neck having every right to be stiff given where he chose to lie down last night, but he'd gotten used to sleeping in "not very comfortable" spots.
His eyes fell on a garbage can some distance away, and in his mind's eye he saw himself there with his Dad. Except the garbage can was a BBQ, and the park was some sprawling yard. He, as a kid, was standing by, observing his Dad's technique on the grill. It was nothing much beyond basic, but it was something his Dad was doing. So, he watched.
The image shifted to his Dad picking through that garbage can, himself watching him shift deftly through the true trash to find some morsel to share.
Master EffeX narrowed his eyes. No. That image was wrong.
He'd had a home. Hadn't he? And he'd never been on the streets with his Dad.
So how come now he was. .
. .Alone.
At least in the sense of having family; found or otherwise.
In the literal sense, he wasn't. He was, after all, in densely populated New York City.
Scott was quiet for the length of a couple painful breaths, though that wasn't why. He was thinking. Then: "How about a walk right now?"
After a second, Jean smiled.
Together they set off for a section of the Grounds further from the school, where there was a pond and dotting of trees. One in particular they liked, for the history they had there.
Xavier was a shrewd man, and suspected Ryder knew more about the Vibranium than she was letting on. What he didn't know was why she chose to keep whatever properties it had to herself. It definitely wouldn't be for any reasons of loyalty towards Umbra, so it had to be something she valued for herself.
But that could be reasoned out later. Xavier didn't dedicate another moment of thought to that piece of the Ryder puzzle.
As she decided to lead her own way, Xavier had actually smiled and thought to himself: 'She doesn't require this tour, does she?' though the smile soon faded. She was always many steps ahead, figuratively -and right now, literally. Keeping on top of her surroundings, making what seemed instant yet were surely calculated decisions.
A master of domain in a world out to subdue her. A fearful being snatching courage everywhere she knew to find it?
"There are some chopped vegetables in that one, to the back," Xavier commented, non-judgmentally, of one of the cafeteria's refrigeration units. Just ahead of Ryder posing her question.
"Right now isn't one of the scheduled mealtimes, and while it's certainly common to find foragers in-between," he said with some fondness of the growing youth under his care, "many of our students are currently taking advantage of the school break. Though others are here year round, their dorms are for their privacy." he added as an explanation for why Ryder might not've seen them if she were going by cameras alone. Xavier stated it simply, yet there was an assurance there: here, the children were not monitored like lab rats. "However on a day like today, I should think most are out on the Grounds. Which is where I imagine you'd prefer to be as well than on this stuffy tour. We'll head outside after we're through here."
He had wheeled over to a sideboard where coffee or tea could be made, and went about fixing the latter for himself and, without asking, a cup of black tea was made for Ryder as well and set down in front of her. "You may want something to aid your digestion, since your stomach hasn't had solid foods since you arrived." Medically, they had been meeting her nutritional requirements.
Location: Asteroid M Skills: Power Mimicry - Active Power: Chaos Magic Light Manipulation
OfAll heard Perry's comment on more power use, not to mention Guin's "stick to the plan!" and snuffed a brief impulse to just go on the offensive with everyone. OfAll hadn't been among those selected for the "storm him" part of the plan, and as such she thought it more prudent to keep her attention open for where best she could fit -another look cast between the two situations.
Perhaps as most were further down the corridor with Cortez, the barrage of whirling metal wasn't causing as much damage as one would expect; minor cuts if it made contact at all. Didn't mean it would stay that way, and OfAll observed Edus try to use his powers to guard against it, though that wasn't working. Judging by the vibration of Neil's hands, however, and subsequent response in the metal, that defensive attempt was, at least some.
The situation of the walls was a growing concern, yet a moment later Marygold had that handled, at least for now, and managed to partially bind Cortez as well -a success among scarce few; he was proving a match for the X-Men.
All this being so, OfAll did wind up joining the fray of those fighting him, acting on Antoinette's suggestion to try and blind him so Annie could follow up with her own powers.
OfAll's first attempt to throw light into his eyes wasn't successful. The light just encased OfAll's own hands again, and increased like a bulb about to burst, before fading. On her second attempt, inspired by Edus' wrist action as he, too, pivoted focus and went on the offensive, OfAll decided to really put her arm(s) into it, and drew her elbows back before thrusting forward -the light releasing from her outstretched hands and hitting their optic target!
"Alright! Your go!" She said to Antoinette in a tone of measured hope.
Then, OfAll clicked her mind to a different point of interest.
While she had been observing things before, she managed to catch for the second time how the metal didn't seem to just happen to miss Pietro, but seemed more like it avoided him. This second time looked different than the first, and a separate theory was building in OfAll's mind.
Cortez's comment on how much the X-Men really knew played into it as well, along with the still unusual "absence" of Magneto, Miranda and, as OfAll realized now, Flynn.
I mean Magneto at least seemed to be there, and OfAll could reason Flynn and Miranda kept safe out of the action -possibly for Cortez reasons, or other- yet at the same time. . .
Though the Light powers were proving a good manifest so far, a part of OfAll wished she had tried taking Guin's telepathy, even though that was among the powers OfAll didn't feel comfortable going for. The plan she was building in her mind involved reading either Cortez's mind, or "Magneto's" again, though OfAll's observations had also caught Guin's bleeding nose; evidence of what this fight was costing her, so far.
OfAll didn't want to ask a potentially already spent mind to try straining again. Even if OfAll did think mind reading would be less of a strain than mind control -Guin herself seemed determined to leave mind games behind for the moment.
That being said, OfAll was a proponent of "don't decide what I'm capable of. Let me be the judge of that". Maybe she could run the idea by the her if she could first take some burden off -ensure Guin didn't have to worry about herself for a sec.
OfAll tried to throw her light powers again, this time to erect a shield around Guin similar to how Lance had around the three of them earlier, but OfAll couldn't seem to work that out. Casting out a shot of light was one thing, but casting out essentially a shroud of it that would have to be maintained proved to be another.
Not wanting to misfire and wind up protecting Cortez instead -like it seemed Bethany misfired and grabbed Max- OfAll decided on another tactic.
If you can't read someone's mind, act like you already know what's in it and let them spill the missing thoughts: hey, sometimes life played out like a movie.
"Cortez! Who says it's not the other way around?" OfAll asserted. "We seem to have your attention pretty well. That means you're missing other things."
The year is 2030-something. The world has changed. . .Mutants are now being actively reported, hauled off the streets; what progress had been made has taken large steps backwards. Where are the X-Men in all this? Or even The Brotherhood? Nobody seems to have heard of them. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters doesn't seem to have existed. The building stands but it's never been a school. Who owns it is unknown. "Charles Xavier", "Scott Summers", "Jean Grey", "Ororo Munroe", "Erik Lehnsherr", "Raven Darkholme" et al aren't names on any registry.
But at least one individual, "Master EffeX", remembers - the school, the X-Men, those people - they had existed! . . . .hadn't they?
Is this another universe? A mass cover up? An incursion?
Or was it all an illusion?
It's like a dream yet more than one, but Master EffeX remembers only up to a point. Why doesn't he know what happened? There's a blank space in his mind....and he's not sure where or to whom he can go to fill it in.
As time goes on, his memories become more muddled. The scenes change. They're at once what he remembers and not. But he can't let them go. . . .
"Statistically speaking, I'm about 40% today. . ." he spoke underneath his breath to only himself, "and I only just woke up. Place your bets on the probability of that going down or up. . ." He'd turned his head to the other side, but now shifted it to look straight up.
Up into that perspective granting sky that seemed endless. . .he knew better.
Master EffeX brought his hand up to his brow in what could look like a two-fingered salute, then stretched his arm as far as he could towards that sky.
He sighed as he brought it down to go straight out from his body, as he stretched his other arm out the other way. He lay like this for a few minutes getting up, then down- as he'd been sleeping on the roof of an out building.
The world looked different now that he was standing on the ground. Sometimes he thought it would be beneficial if every street had a raised walkway so you could choose a different level, a different perspective. He liked difference perspectives. . .mostly higher views as he hadn't much opportunity to experience lower ones.
Sometimes, maybe like many, he thought it might be nice to fly. But he wasn't that type of mutant.
Something caught his ear then, and even before he turned to look down the street towards it, he frowned.
It was much too early in the day for sounds of oppression against his kind.
[center][i][sub][h3] [color=slategray]It all never happened ~ but in your mind![/color]
[color=black]It all never happened ~ but in your mind![/color][/h3][/sub][/i][/center]
[center]Aspiring Screenwriter. Imagination whiz jumping between many 🌎s.
Self-taught Pic/🎶 Editor, VFX Coordinator & Mixer.
Independent student of 🎞; ever learning.[/center]
[center][b][i][sub][h3][color=#E5E4E2] 'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.[/color]
[color=#7393B3]'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.[/color][/h3][/sub]
[sub][h3][color=#E5E4E2]The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'[/color]
[color=#7393B3]The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'[/color][/h3][/sub][/i][/b][/center]
The comic book world is such a rich sandbox! Perhaps none richer than the [i]X-Men[/i] -mutations to mix, slice-of-life elements to turn into anything but ordinary -the lines are drawn but the colours exceed them [i]~care to embark on the e[i]X[/i]ploration with me?[/i]
[center][i]*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into Fox Movies theme🎵*[/i][/center]
[b][sub][h2][color=red] Interest Checks:[/color]
[color=white]Interest Checks:[/color][/h2][/sub][/b]
https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/190866-a-cache-of-x-men-interest-checks/ooc
[hider=Writing Sample 1: from X-Men: GenetiX][i]Jean had been intending to search the facility for rooms unseen when she'd received Xavier's message about the injured guards. She'd changed course, but soon it became apparent someone had already had the mind to go check on them; a direction from Becker, possibly, following the radio disturbance.
Jean had decided then to return to medical to aid with the treatment of the guards when they were brought back. Besides a responsibility towards human life, she wanted to see what other damage the girl had caused and what she might further be able to infer about her from the guards.
Given her medical experience, she also didn't want to be missed. If she was going to go looking for places she wasn't meant to be, she wanted to be sure no one would be looking for her.
Ahead of that, however, Jean saw the director himself back in the hallways. She had tried to speak with him, but his impatience was clear despite his feigned accommodation -he apologized for keeping her in the dark, yet simply had too much to attend to after that mass technology glitch to go into anything more about it now.
If she had spoken with Xavier on the details Becker had divulged to him, which it seemed she had, then that was really all Becker could say at this time.
He'd cited privacy again when Jean expressed wanting at least to know this girl's name.
The guards were back in the building at that point, being taken to the Medical Centre, and Jean had fell in line.
There wasn't anything of operative note from them, either, and as Jean assisted with treating their injuries, she'd reflected on the non-conversation with Becker. Jean preferred not to tap people's minds unpermitted, or without dire cause. There was more variance to this rule when it came to enemies, however, and Becker was giving off a certain vibe....She'd thought she might catch a stray thought. It was clear the safety of anyone who encountered this girl was at risk, and through extension the girl's own safety. They weren't sure what all she had planned -if escaping and existing outside the facility was the extent of it, or if she had something else in mind.
All that took precedence over certain privacy. The girl's and Becker's.
However, Jean had found Becker's mind, your could say, shaded. She was sure with a little more time to concentrate she could see something through it, but that hadn't been afforded. She decided to try again after conducting her search of the facility. Gain an advantage by knowing more than he would expect and more of what he held in his mind.
[hr]
The basement of Umbra Biogenetics had been conveyed as a place for old equipment; an office and research space no longer used since a new wing had been built two years ago; generally a place of no matter.
And that's exactly what Jean Grey had found when she went there now, for the first time.
She may not've found the hidden elevator shaft to the [i]sub-[/i]basement, had it not been for the psychic signature she'd been following. An emanation which grew acutely perceptible from the top of stairs, and stronger with every step down.
Finding the shaft became a game of Hot and Cold, with the voice directing her taking the form of psychic imprints; like a handprint somewhere dust has settled.
The existence of this other basement in and of itself didn't register too strongly to someone who, back home, was used to having a hanger full with one or two aircraft at any given time, a war room, medical room and lab, an amplifier for telepaths, and of course where limitless simulations could exist in a limited-size room, all housed beneath your regular 18th century mansion. But the X-Men were open about it within their own walls. Their elevator opened onto a main floor hallway students may tread down in their day-to-day.
As Jean descended down this shaft, it was like walking into increasingly humid air; a growing weight pressing down on her perception.
When she came upon Ryder's room, it didn't feel like one where someone lived, but where they merely [i]survived[/i]; the affect poignant. The psychic signature here, like no where else, added on an emotional weight. There was nothing more to be gleaned from this space. Jean moved on.
She next came to a research room, where her eyes moved over devices not unlike what were used above, or back at the X-Mansion, yet these ones felt deceptive in their familiarity. Jean flinched as someone with a headache may at a sudden noise.
[b]Then she'd found the audio logs. . . .[/b]
While she listened, it was as though what they detailed came to life for Jean, at least in terms of the sensation she was experiencing; dialing up. But the mind working as it can when a person is concentrating deeply, or determined to finish something, the sensation was swept to the back of her mind until the point where it crashed back to the front, unable to be ignored any longer; the point when you realize you should've been paying attention to what your body was trying to tell you.
She managed to get out of the room, back up the shaft, to the main basement's stairs. Then she had to pause. Crouching down with a hand on the wall.
If the recurring experience before had been like psychic nausea, this was like being drugged.
Any processing her mind had to do happened as though through a warped lens: the psychic signatures hanging in the air like pieces of broken mirror, distorting the room; thoughts from the people above freely entering her head, but coming as though from a malfunctioning radio in an echo chamber. Jean closed her eyes. Even her own thoughts felt disembodied.
Her mind shifted to Scott, her hand -in the psychic space of her mind- clutching the handle to "their door", yet it was as though she couldn't get a hold on herself -couldn't manipulate the handle to gain access.
And there was another...a certain sensation that had grown on her, within her, now feeling like cascading wind chimes drifting further apart. She could feel them still connected, still well, yet their sound was beyond her reach.
Opening her eyes, Jean determinedly stood up.
She had been hesitant to attempt stairs feeling like this, when someone else could be affected by a misstep. But she knew the sensations were all mental; she was capable physically. She just had to concentrate on her body instead of her mind for a few moments; had to get out of here.
Managing once more, Jean drew a breath at the landing; then made a beeline for her quarters.
At some point along the way, she vaguely registered Becker down another hallway -he probably saw her- but there was no way she could make a second attempt at him now.
Locking the door once inside her room, Jean drew more collecting breaths, but had to delay hitting the bed to first place another long-distance telephone call.
That done, she curled up with the distress of all she'd just learned and the disturbance of the lingering sensation:
Her mind feeling like a PC made to process something it didn't have the hardware for, while other applications and programs were open. Its performance so hampered that even everyday tasks were met with a stall; impossible for anything to get done prior to a reboot.
Jean knew she wouldn't be able to communicate with Xavier or Scott until then.[/i]
[hr]
While both bodies experienced the startle reflex, and both heads turned in her direction, the girl hadn't exactly achieved her intended effect.
Alert described Cyclops and Professor Xavier's present state rather than scared. The two sitting watchfully, yet still.
Xavier even answered calmly. [color=#7393B3]"I'm pleased to see you're still lively.[/color]
In truth he knew she shouldn't be exerting herself, but he would follow her lead for the moment.
[color=#7393B3]As for where we came from, that would be a school I run in North America, for gifted young people such as yourself. I have made it my life's work to help those with strong powers out of troubled circumstances. As I once did for my friend here, Scott Summers."[/color] He gestured towards him, thinking it may help this young mutant to know that the two before her had, perhaps, some level of understanding on what she was going through. [color=#7393B3]"He now assists me in the running of the school, and along with a select group of my other grown pupils fights to protect those who require it. My name, is Professor Charles Xavier. Perhaps you could tell us yours?"[/color][/hider]
[hider=Writing Sample 2: from X-Men: GenetiX]Cyclops [i]was[/i] questioning Ryder's choice of destination. Why plan so long to escape Umbra just to return to it? If she wanted to flatten the place, it sounded pretty clear she could've done that already, [i]when[/i] she had initially escaped.
He didn't buy it. Something was up.
Either she was going there for a different reason than she'd stated -something she realized she needed that wasn't tech related; she didn't have remote access to?
Or she wasn't going there at all.
It did occur to him that their mini-X-jet was parked some distance in a clearing of the forest beyond the other side of Umbra. Could she have figured that out and wanted to steal their ride?
His sense of direction remained acute, though the more they travelled the more he lost ground on Ryder. He had the impulse to hurry -- he still had the advantage of size and could take much longer strides than she. But he knew better. Hurrying in this terrain at this time of day would only serve to set him back even more.
That's when he felt the ground shake beneath him, heard a sound like something being ripped from the earth at the same time, then heard the first scream, followed by gunfire.
[color=#0096FF]"What the Hell?!"[/color]
Things became oddly clearer some distance up ahead, and Cyclops registered it was because trees had fallen out of view. [color=#0096FF][i]'Is she uprooting the forest, or...?'[/i][/color] For all he knew this could be another mutant. The worst case scenario was it was an innocent local acting our of fear.
More sounds echoed -- quieter and less directly than if they hadn't been in a forest, but enough that Cyclops had a sense he'd be coming up on some sickening scene -- then came the shriek. It brought his mind back to the parking lot when Ryder had been injured. He was sure she'd just been again. [i]This was not good.[/i]
Cyclops did hurry now -- recovering his footing fast each time he lost it. Pain was swept aside as adrenaline flooded in. He needed to get to the scene before --
He froze. Eyes widening behind his visor as mangled screams replaced by something worse registered through his auditory system.
His basic human instincts said to stay firmly planted where he was, but the rest -his X-Men instincts- took over; charging towards danger being just part of the protocol. Moving on, he practically [i]felt[/i] what he was hearing, as though his body knew what his mind couldn't possibly.
[hr]
[i]Some distance away in two separate places, two others were feeling the carnage as well, though decidedly more viscerally.[/i]
She'd been making her way to them since the failed communication, sensing he needed her, and now, Jean Grey screamed, clutching at her head as she felt multiple minds die horrifically in succession, then at once. She didn't even realize she'd fallen until she made herself open her eyes -- going against her instinct to shut out the world by shutting her eyes; she needed to see the space of the world in front of her which was devoid of decimation. But it was no use.
She registered no pain from the fall -- registered nothing but the concoction brought on by her mutant telepathy and natural empathy.
Xavier had gone back to the roads, planning on influencing a mind just enough to have himself driven back to the facility. He had come across a few vehicles indicating the arrival of more townspeople without any current occupants, when he, too, felt the pain of cerebral death on repeat. [color=#7393B3][i]"AA-AH-AHHH!"[/i][/color] His hands, too, clutching at his head.
Separately, the telepaths fought through the pain as though physically sifting through the bodies to try and locate one in particular.
He couldn't be among them -[i]- he couldn't be.[/i]
[hr]
The townspeople were bold, but not that bold.
If the gruesome sounds coming from the altered forest weren't enough, the insane amount of gunfire certainly was.
They weren't joining this fray.
One, however, perhaps with the panicked thinking of [i]'is it following me?!'[/i], perhaps by sheer accident, or perhaps getting off a calculated shot before turning tail to collect their quarry another day, fired off another of those enhanced net guns.
This one [i]did[/i] ensnare Cyclops, who went down painfully, an unsettling warmth bubbling out in all the places where he'd been shot before by Ryder, indicative of the stitching and packing no longer holding. Only he wasn't registering that just now. He had something else to worry about.
The netting had managed to bind one hand tightly in the very position required for his visor to engage. After a few scarce seconds of blasting apart the earth Cyclops shut his eyes, having to act blind until he could extricate his hand.
[list]
[*]The good news was: he had blasted apart some of the net, as well.
[*]The bad news was: the blasting of the already disturbed earth saw to the felling of another tree.[/list]
It [b][i]CRASHED[/i][/b] down onto another, branches breaking. A thick one [i][b]SLAMMING[/b][/i] into an incline below -- one Cyclops had only minutes before came down in a scarcely controlled skid -- the branch now careening down it.
If that branch had merely rolled from the higher elevation, he could've heard it and blasted it away. As it came with the noise of coniferous impact and breakage, however, he couldn't sort out what he was hearing in time.
Cyclops had managed to stand up.
This was one time he should've stayed down.
A yell was cut off as the air rushed out of his lungs -- the branch had slammed into him -- slammed him back into the thick trunk of another tree, and a series of tell-tale [i][b]CRRRKKKKHH[/b]s[/i] resounded.
The branch fell away and so did he, finding himself in a lethal cycle --body desperate for air, but every breath [i][b]CUT[/b][/i], the pain [i][b]SEARED[/b][/i], breathing felt perversely like the absolute [i][b]WRONG[/b][/i] thing to do --that he would tear his lungs to ribbons if he expanded them against his splintered chest.
But he was so in need.
He lay literally gasping for his life.
His mind clouded over....
[i]And as it would happen, so did the surrounding area.[/i]
Fog permeated the woods so if any foolhardy or militant souls were left, they'd be absolutely blind. The fog was oddly sectional, however, and where bodies lay it was clearer.
Cyclops, no longer blasting, had a vague, visual registration of the scene before his faculties fell further away.
[i]....Jean.
He'd thought of her. He'd seen her....
No. She shouldn't have been there. No where near this.
He felt his lungs fill with a breath he hadn't taken.
They filled gradually, deeply, painfully.
Yet they didn't shred.
Another...
...Familiar lips on his.[/i]
[center]* * * *
[i]Three Weeks Later[/i][/center]
[color=yellow][i]"I [u]still[/u] say, it doesn't matter who she is. That scene in the forest looked like a scene [u]I[/u] would've left. Only [u]worse[/u]. I know how you two feel about this sorta' thing, but you let Xavier put blocks in [u]your[/u] mind when your power was only [u]considered[/u] too dangerous. I mean come on -[u]Scott[/u] was nearly among those in the pile out there."[/i][/color] concluded the gruff voice of Wolverine.
Jean didn't need to be reminded -of the scene or how close she came to losing Scott. Truly his only saving grace might've been that he hadn't been [i]right there[/i] when it all went down; there was no entertaining the idea that Ryder would've discriminated. [color=#DAA06D][i]"That carnage was a [u]reactionary[/u] result,"[/i][/color] Jean pointed out in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, [color=#DAA06D][i]"Ryder felt cornered. Threatened. She's been a lab experiment all her life. If either myself or Charles try anything in her mind, she might react on an instinctive level to the exact result we're trying to avoid."[/i] [/color]
[color=yellow][i]"She's been [u]unconscious[/u]. And the longer we wait the less she's probably gonna' stay that way."[/i][/color]
[color=#DAA06D][i]"We're not [u]waiting[/u], Logan."[/i][/color]
[color=yellow][i]"Right. We've just been having regular round table discussions about how exactly we should act. Same difference."[/i][/color]
[b][color=#4169E1][i]"Not to forget, she may not be quite as unconscious as she's seemed,"[/i][/color][/b] came the reasoning voice of X-Men's most hirsute; The Beast, [b][color=#4169E1][i]"though, as far as we are aware, he has been proceeding without evidential certainty on the matter, Charles has been proceeding on that thought, none-the-less. So far the place hasn't come crashing down around us."[/i][/color][/b]
[color=yellow][i]"[u]So far[/u]. If you ask me, Chuck is too close to this to base anything around. . .At least he's sound enough on the subject to keep her in the Danger Room."[/i][/color]
And so that's where Ryder had been since the X-Men arrived on the unspeakable scene and jetted her, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Xavier back to the Mansion.
The Danger Room, some distance down the basement hallway from the Ready Room where the X-Men were having yet another meeting on the matter of "Ryder Xavier".
Despite Ryder's extensive injuries, she hadn't been housed in the Medical Lab for a moment. It was deemed too risky, especially as Cyclops would be recovering there. Not only was the Danger Room the most fortified of the entire building, being that the X-Men could train at realistic intensity, but the simulation technology it contained could also be utilized -and was- to make the environment appear more welcoming.
The very last thing they wanted was for Ryder to think she had just traded one captive situation for another.
They made the room look like one of the Mansion's bedrooms, complete with a window. That being said, they didn't want the gesture to be misconstrued as some ulterior motive illusion, and so they lowered the realism of the sim so it did appear, more or less, holographic. Ryder would be able to grasp her setting was manufactured, and they would be agreeable to changing it if she didn't appreciate their aesthetic.
They didn't delude [i]themselves[/i] either --knowing full well once she was awake, it likely wouldn't take long for her to get a technic read on the place and be able to adjust the simulation at will. But at least anything she could do with it would be contained within this space. Beyond it, they had removed anything they thought she could use as a weapon, going analog where possible.
A return trip had also been made to Umbra within these past three weeks, with the intent to shut the place down. They were unable to locate Becker, and the only hidden rooms they found were the ones Jean already came across. But they had seen to absorbing the young charges into Xavier's institute, and had recovered some things, including -thanks to Beast's eye for advanced technology- a bit of the material the guards had had which blocked Ryder's powers. Beast had what amounted to an educated idea that's what it could do, anyway, and was currently in the midst of understanding it so he could do something with it himself.
In the meantime, Xavier had been making regular visits to the Danger Room to visit his daughter.
And for at least the past week, he had been making mental visits, too. Even in true coma, a mind was still active where the body wasn't.
He took it slow. Like a new neighbour making themselves known in no greater way than merely being outside, doing things in their own yard. Smiling when they'd catch your eye, but not making an attempt to draw you into conversation.
Today, Xavier decided to knock politely on the door, as for the first time the curtains hadn't been drawn. He had been able to see a few scenes within the mental "house" -Ryder seemingly going over her days at the Mansion so far.
They hadn't consisted of much beyond what care someone in her state would require, which was mostly carried out by Jean both because, despite the odd sensations she'd experienced, they felt she was best suited power-wise to be in such a position -a decision Cyclops couldn't argue, though he felt uneasy about each time Jean went in- and because from what Jean understood from the facility, it never seemed like Ryder was dealt with by anyone but males. They thought Jean would feel like a less hostile presence to her. As well, Jean had her level of empathy gained from the knowledge of Ryder's life.
Her husband's discomfort notwithstanding, Jean took the position willingly and, truth be told, had made similar "visitation attempts" to Xavier's, from a place of wanting to understand this girl. Both her pain, and how she could manage the degree she inflicted on others. That scene in the forest was the very embodiment of blind rage, and Jean wondered how Ryder's mind was processing that; if it even realized. But she had been treading even more carefully than Xavier.
Xavier was cognizant of Jean "stepping" here, like noticing remnants of footprints on the sidewalk. He had to smile at this. Though, he didn't perceive she had gotten as far as he now had.
This apparent fact pleased him all the more.[/hider]
[hider=Writing Sample 3: from Our Mind's Shadowed Hallways]Cool. Reserved.
Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, was often misunderstood as not caring when in fact he cared deeply.
So serious all the time because nothing was a throw-away to him; everything mattered.
Chief among it all, Jean Grey.
[i]The center of his world[/i].
She had seen something past his dour exterior, had been open enough to receive him that he could open up to her; show a side to her few, maybe only she, knew.
[i][b]Had[/b][/i].
[i][b]Knew[/b][/i].
Everything was changed now. All of their history ceasing to exist in Jean's mind,
[i]from a series of seemingly insignificant actions which turned into a majorly significant circumstance.[/i]
Sometimes Scott felt his entire life was defined this way.
[i]Four people climb into a cockpit. Strap in. Take off. . .[/i]
The next thing he knew he was living as a brain damaged, unwanted orphan.
[i]Three kids get into a fight. One never gets up. One can never go back. . .[/i]
Next thing he knew he was a mutant, and [i]that [/i]defined everything about his life going forward.
[i]Was that why. . ?
Two X-Men undertake a mission. Patrol a sector. Cross an invisible line. . .[/i]
Next thing, he was waking up in the Med Bay, his head feeling. . .[i]strange[/i].
And Jean woke up feeling he was a stranger.
She hadn't recognized the X Mansion, yet somehow had vague memories of Charles Xavier, and fractionally remembered the others. Ororo Munroe, Hank McCoy, Logan, etc. somehow she knew them, yet not Storm, The Beast, Wolverine -the X-Men as a whole, her place as one.
Was that why she remembered nothing of Scott Summers? He didn't know who he was if not Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. [i]But with Jean. . .[/i]
Was this proof he wasn't, in fact, anything else?
Taken with everything, that couldn't make sense.
Jean had no memory that she was even a mutant, but it wasn't as simple as saying she lost all memories pertaining to that, if she still recalled everyone else in some way. .
. .[i]none[/i] of them she would've met had she not been a mutant. Scott needed things to make sense, and so little of this did.
What had even happened? The other X-Men had been patrolling other sectors. No one saw.
They had to have been hit by something. . .
A subsequent probe of the area with Cerebro bore no residual signature of another mutant, no device had been located and with the aforementioned absence of signature, no one could've come to dispose of one.
. . .Xavier worked out they had in fact [i]encountered[/i] something, something that existed on a psychic plain- explaining why Jean was affected so drastically and Cyclops, comparatively nil.
So what was it? What was this? Coincidental? [i]Planned?[/i] Scott's money was on the latter, but then who was behind it?
Was this their intended result? [i]Or was there more to the plan he needed to watch out for. . ?[/i]
He sighed as he finished crossing the hallways. It was already taking a toll, what he had to deal with in his head. .
. .[i]that strange sensation growing stronger. [/i]
Which is why Scott now stood outside the presently closed door to Xavier's office.
And the voices he heard inside is why he now stood [i]paused[/i] outside that door.
Underway inside, rather, sounding like it had just concluded, was another of Xavier's psychic therapy sessions with Jean.
So far there'd been no breaththroughs. . .it didn't sound like one was made this time, either.
. . .Scott couldn't help eavesdropping.
He was finding it difficult figuring out how to be around her now. Where to start [i]over[/i].
Scott didn't want to get in Jean's way of remembering "herself". Desperate though he was for her to remember "them", he didn't want her to feel pressured to prioritize that. .
. .Events had a sequence. It wasn't for him to jump the line.
That's what he partially convinced himself of, anyway.
[i]But there was also the matter of. . . . .[/i][/hider]
[hr]
[center][b][i]X-Men Envisionings: one passionate fan's riff on the FOX[/i] X-Men [i]franchise.
Call it a fanfiction, call it what you will, but [u]don't miss out[/u]!![/i][/b][/center]
[center][i][sub][h2][color=#DAA06D][b]Xperience[/b][/color] [color=#0096FF][b]NeXt Vol.#2![/b][/color]
[color=#0096FF][b]Xperience[/b][/color] [color=#DAA06D][b]NeXt Vol.#2![/b][/color][/h2][/sub][/i]
[b]https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/next-vol-2-part-1[/b]
[sub][h3][color=#0096FF] [i][b]New Parts release Fridays![/b][/i][/color]
[color=#DAA06D][i][b]New Parts release Fridays![/b][/i][/color][/h3][/sub][/center]
[hr]
[center][b][sub][h3][color=blue]The [i]X-Men[/i] continues to be this e[b]x[/b]cellent odyssey[/color]
[color=yellow] The [i]X-Men[/i] continues to be this e[b]x[/b]cellent odyssey[/color][/h3][/sub]
[sub][h3][color=blue] [i]Where ever it takes me.[/i][/color]
[color=yellow][i]Where ever it takes me.[/i][/color][/h3][/sub][/b][/center]
[center][i][b]X-Men Envisionings[/b], a sector of [/i]
[i][sub][h2][b][color=silver]TechtraColour[/color][/b]
[color=hotpink]Te[/color][color=chartreuse]cht[/color][color=cyan]raC[/color][color=purple]olo[/color][color=hotpink]ur[/color][/h2][/sub][/i]
https://trytrip3.wixsite.com/techtracolour
=================[/center]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="slategray">It all never happened ~ but in your mind!</font><br><font color="black">It all never happened ~ but in your mind!</font></div></sub></span></div><br><div class="bb-center">Aspiring Screenwriter. Imagination whiz jumping between many 🌎s. <br>Self-taught Pic/🎶 Editor, VFX Coordinator & Mixer. <br>Independent student of 🎞; ever learning.</div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#e5e4e2"> 'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.</font><br><font color="#7393b3">'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.</font></div></sub><br><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#e5e4e2">The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'</font><br> <font color="#7393b3">The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'</font></div></sub></span></span></div><br><br>The comic book world is such a rich sandbox! Perhaps none richer than the <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> -mutations to mix, slice-of-life elements to turn into anything but ordinary -the lines are drawn but the colours exceed them <span class="bb-i">~care to embark on the e<span class="bb-i">X</span>ploration with me?</span><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i">*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into Fox Movies theme🎵*</span></div><br><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/190866-a-cache-of-x-men-interest-checks/ooc" title="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/190866-a-cache-of-x-men-interest-checks/ooc">roleplayerguild.com/topics/190866-a-c…</a><br><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="Writing Sample 1: from X-Men: GenetiX">Writing Sample 1: from X-Men: GenetiX [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none"><span class="bb-i">Jean had been intending to search the facility for rooms unseen when she'd received Xavier's message about the injured guards. She'd changed course, but soon it became apparent someone had already had the mind to go check on them; a direction from Becker, possibly, following the radio disturbance.<br><br>Jean had decided then to return to medical to aid with the treatment of the guards when they were brought back. Besides a responsibility towards human life, she wanted to see what other damage the girl had caused and what she might further be able to infer about her from the guards. <br><br>Given her medical experience, she also didn't want to be missed. If she was going to go looking for places she wasn't meant to be, she wanted to be sure no one would be looking for her.<br><br>Ahead of that, however, Jean saw the director himself back in the hallways. She had tried to speak with him, but his impatience was clear despite his feigned accommodation -he apologized for keeping her in the dark, yet simply had too much to attend to after that mass technology glitch to go into anything more about it now. <br>If she had spoken with Xavier on the details Becker had divulged to him, which it seemed she had, then that was really all Becker could say at this time.<br><br>He'd cited privacy again when Jean expressed wanting at least to know this girl's name.<br><br>The guards were back in the building at that point, being taken to the Medical Centre, and Jean had fell in line.<br><br>There wasn't anything of operative note from them, either, and as Jean assisted with treating their injuries, she'd reflected on the non-conversation with Becker. Jean preferred not to tap people's minds unpermitted, or without dire cause. There was more variance to this rule when it came to enemies, however, and Becker was giving off a certain vibe....She'd thought she might catch a stray thought. It was clear the safety of anyone who encountered this girl was at risk, and through extension the girl's own safety. They weren't sure what all she had planned -if escaping and existing outside the facility was the extent of it, or if she had something else in mind.<br><br>All that took precedence over certain privacy. The girl's and Becker's.<br>However, Jean had found Becker's mind, your could say, shaded. She was sure with a little more time to concentrate she could see something through it, but that hadn't been afforded. She decided to try again after conducting her search of the facility. Gain an advantage by knowing more than he would expect and more of what he held in his mind.<br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br>The basement of Umbra Biogenetics had been conveyed as a place for old equipment; an office and research space no longer used since a new wing had been built two years ago; generally a place of no matter.<br><br>And that's exactly what Jean Grey had found when she went there now, for the first time. <br><br>She may not've found the hidden elevator shaft to the <span class="bb-i">sub-</span>basement, had it not been for the psychic signature she'd been following. An emanation which grew acutely perceptible from the top of stairs, and stronger with every step down.<br><br>Finding the shaft became a game of Hot and Cold, with the voice directing her taking the form of psychic imprints; like a handprint somewhere dust has settled.<br><br>The existence of this other basement in and of itself didn't register too strongly to someone who, back home, was used to having a hanger full with one or two aircraft at any given time, a war room, medical room and lab, an amplifier for telepaths, and of course where limitless simulations could exist in a limited-size room, all housed beneath your regular 18th century mansion. But the X-Men were open about it within their own walls. Their elevator opened onto a main floor hallway students may tread down in their day-to-day.<br><br>As Jean descended down this shaft, it was like walking into increasingly humid air; a growing weight pressing down on her perception.<br><br>When she came upon Ryder's room, it didn't feel like one where someone lived, but where they merely <span class="bb-i">survived</span>; the affect poignant. The psychic signature here, like no where else, added on an emotional weight. There was nothing more to be gleaned from this space. Jean moved on.<br><br>She next came to a research room, where her eyes moved over devices not unlike what were used above, or back at the X-Mansion, yet these ones felt deceptive in their familiarity. Jean flinched as someone with a headache may at a sudden noise. <br><br><span class="bb-b">Then she'd found the audio logs. . . .</span><br><br>While she listened, it was as though what they detailed came to life for Jean, at least in terms of the sensation she was experiencing; dialing up. But the mind working as it can when a person is concentrating deeply, or determined to finish something, the sensation was swept to the back of her mind until the point where it crashed back to the front, unable to be ignored any longer; the point when you realize you should've been paying attention to what your body was trying to tell you.<br><br>She managed to get out of the room, back up the shaft, to the main basement's stairs. Then she had to pause. Crouching down with a hand on the wall. <br><br>If the recurring experience before had been like psychic nausea, this was like being drugged. <br>Any processing her mind had to do happened as though through a warped lens: the psychic signatures hanging in the air like pieces of broken mirror, distorting the room; thoughts from the people above freely entering her head, but coming as though from a malfunctioning radio in an echo chamber. Jean closed her eyes. Even her own thoughts felt disembodied.<br><br>Her mind shifted to Scott, her hand -in the psychic space of her mind- clutching the handle to "their door", yet it was as though she couldn't get a hold on herself -couldn't manipulate the handle to gain access.<br><br>And there was another...a certain sensation that had grown on her, within her, now feeling like cascading wind chimes drifting further apart. She could feel them still connected, still well, yet their sound was beyond her reach.<br><br>Opening her eyes, Jean determinedly stood up.<br><br>She had been hesitant to attempt stairs feeling like this, when someone else could be affected by a misstep. But she knew the sensations were all mental; she was capable physically. She just had to concentrate on her body instead of her mind for a few moments; had to get out of here.<br><br>Managing once more, Jean drew a breath at the landing; then made a beeline for her quarters.<br><br>At some point along the way, she vaguely registered Becker down another hallway -he probably saw her- but there was no way she could make a second attempt at him now. <br><br>Locking the door once inside her room, Jean drew more collecting breaths, but had to delay hitting the bed to first place another long-distance telephone call. <br><br>That done, she curled up with the distress of all she'd just learned and the disturbance of the lingering sensation:<br>Her mind feeling like a PC made to process something it didn't have the hardware for, while other applications and programs were open. Its performance so hampered that even everyday tasks were met with a stall; impossible for anything to get done prior to a reboot.<br><br>Jean knew she wouldn't be able to communicate with Xavier or Scott until then.</span><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br>While both bodies experienced the startle reflex, and both heads turned in her direction, the girl hadn't exactly achieved her intended effect. <br>Alert described Cyclops and Professor Xavier's present state rather than scared. The two sitting watchfully, yet still.<br><br>Xavier even answered calmly. <font color="#7393b3">"I'm pleased to see you're still lively.</font> <br>In truth he knew she shouldn't be exerting herself, but he would follow her lead for the moment. <br><font color="#7393b3">As for where we came from, that would be a school I run in North America, for gifted young people such as yourself. I have made it my life's work to help those with strong powers out of troubled circumstances. As I once did for my friend here, Scott Summers."</font> He gestured towards him, thinking it may help this young mutant to know that the two before her had, perhaps, some level of understanding on what she was going through. <font color="#7393b3">"He now assists me in the running of the school, and along with a select group of my other grown pupils fights to protect those who require it. My name, is Professor Charles Xavier. Perhaps you could tell us yours?"</font></div></div><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="Writing Sample 2: from X-Men: GenetiX">Writing Sample 2: from X-Men: GenetiX [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none">Cyclops <span class="bb-i">was</span> questioning Ryder's choice of destination. Why plan so long to escape Umbra just to return to it? If she wanted to flatten the place, it sounded pretty clear she could've done that already, <span class="bb-i">when</span> she had initially escaped. <br><br>He didn't buy it. Something was up.<br>Either she was going there for a different reason than she'd stated -something she realized she needed that wasn't tech related; she didn't have remote access to? <br>Or she wasn't going there at all.<br><br>It did occur to him that their mini-X-jet was parked some distance in a clearing of the forest beyond the other side of Umbra. Could she have figured that out and wanted to steal their ride? <br><br>His sense of direction remained acute, though the more they travelled the more he lost ground on Ryder. He had the impulse to hurry -- he still had the advantage of size and could take much longer strides than she. But he knew better. Hurrying in this terrain at this time of day would only serve to set him back even more.<br><br>That's when he felt the ground shake beneath him, heard a sound like something being ripped from the earth at the same time, then heard the first scream, followed by gunfire. <br><br><font color="#0096ff">"What the Hell?!"</font><br><br>Things became oddly clearer some distance up ahead, and Cyclops registered it was because trees had fallen out of view. <font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-i">'Is she uprooting the forest, or...?'</span></font> For all he knew this could be another mutant. The worst case scenario was it was an innocent local acting our of fear. <br><br>More sounds echoed -- quieter and less directly than if they hadn't been in a forest, but enough that Cyclops had a sense he'd be coming up on some sickening scene -- then came the shriek. It brought his mind back to the parking lot when Ryder had been injured. He was sure she'd just been again. <span class="bb-i">This was not good.</span><br><br>Cyclops did hurry now -- recovering his footing fast each time he lost it. Pain was swept aside as adrenaline flooded in. He needed to get to the scene before -- <br>He froze. Eyes widening behind his visor as mangled screams replaced by something worse registered through his auditory system.<br><br>His basic human instincts said to stay firmly planted where he was, but the rest -his X-Men instincts- took over; charging towards danger being just part of the protocol. Moving on, he practically <span class="bb-i">felt</span> what he was hearing, as though his body knew what his mind couldn't possibly.<br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><span class="bb-i">Some distance away in two separate places, two others were feeling the carnage as well, though decidedly more viscerally.</span><br><br>She'd been making her way to them since the failed communication, sensing he needed her, and now, Jean Grey screamed, clutching at her head as she felt multiple minds die horrifically in succession, then at once. She didn't even realize she'd fallen until she made herself open her eyes -- going against her instinct to shut out the world by shutting her eyes; she needed to see the space of the world in front of her which was devoid of decimation. But it was no use. <br><br>She registered no pain from the fall -- registered nothing but the concoction brought on by her mutant telepathy and natural empathy.<br><br>Xavier had gone back to the roads, planning on influencing a mind just enough to have himself driven back to the facility. He had come across a few vehicles indicating the arrival of more townspeople without any current occupants, when he, too, felt the pain of cerebral death on repeat. <font color="#7393b3"><span class="bb-i">"AA-AH-AHHH!"</span></font> His hands, too, clutching at his head.<br><br>Separately, the telepaths fought through the pain as though physically sifting through the bodies to try and locate one in particular.<br><br>He couldn't be among them -<span class="bb-i">- he couldn't be.</span><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br>The townspeople were bold, but not that bold.<br>If the gruesome sounds coming from the altered forest weren't enough, the insane amount of gunfire certainly was. <br><br>They weren't joining this fray.<br><br>One, however, perhaps with the panicked thinking of <span class="bb-i">'is it following me?!'</span>, perhaps by sheer accident, or perhaps getting off a calculated shot before turning tail to collect their quarry another day, fired off another of those enhanced net guns.<br><br>This one <span class="bb-i">did</span> ensnare Cyclops, who went down painfully, an unsettling warmth bubbling out in all the places where he'd been shot before by Ryder, indicative of the stitching and packing no longer holding. Only he wasn't registering that just now. He had something else to worry about.<br><br>The netting had managed to bind one hand tightly in the very position required for his visor to engage. After a few scarce seconds of blasting apart the earth Cyclops shut his eyes, having to act blind until he could extricate his hand. <br><br><ul class="bb-list" style="white-space: normal;"><li>The good news was: he had blasted apart some of the net, as well.</li><li>The bad news was: the blasting of the already disturbed earth saw to the felling of another tree.</li></ul><br><br>It <span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">CRASHED</span></span> down onto another, branches breaking. A thick one <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">SLAMMING</span></span> into an incline below -- one Cyclops had only minutes before came down in a scarcely controlled skid -- the branch now careening down it.<br><br>If that branch had merely rolled from the higher elevation, he could've heard it and blasted it away. As it came with the noise of coniferous impact and breakage, however, he couldn't sort out what he was hearing in time.<br><br>Cyclops had managed to stand up.<br>This was one time he should've stayed down.<br><br>A yell was cut off as the air rushed out of his lungs -- the branch had slammed into him -- slammed him back into the thick trunk of another tree, and a series of tell-tale <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">CRRRKKKKHH</span>s</span> resounded.<br><br>The branch fell away and so did he, finding himself in a lethal cycle --body desperate for air, but every breath <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">CUT</span></span>, the pain <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">SEARED</span></span>, breathing felt perversely like the absolute <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">WRONG</span></span> thing to do --that he would tear his lungs to ribbons if he expanded them against his splintered chest.<br><br>But he was so in need.<br><br>He lay literally gasping for his life.<br><br>His mind clouded over....<br><br><span class="bb-i">And as it would happen, so did the surrounding area.</span><br><br>Fog permeated the woods so if any foolhardy or militant souls were left, they'd be absolutely blind. The fog was oddly sectional, however, and where bodies lay it was clearer.<br><br>Cyclops, no longer blasting, had a vague, visual registration of the scene before his faculties fell further away.<br><br><span class="bb-i">....Jean.<br>He'd thought of her. He'd seen her....<br>No. She shouldn't have been there. No where near this.<br>He felt his lungs fill with a breath he hadn't taken.<br>They filled gradually, deeply, painfully. <br>Yet they didn't shred.<br>Another...<br>...Familiar lips on his.</span><br><br><div class="bb-center">* * * *<br><span class="bb-i">Three Weeks Later</span></div><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"I <span class="bb-u">still</span> say, it doesn't matter who she is. That scene in the forest looked like a scene <span class="bb-u">I</span> would've left. Only <span class="bb-u">worse</span>. I know how you two feel about this sorta' thing, but you let Xavier put blocks in <span class="bb-u">your</span> mind when your power was only <span class="bb-u">considered</span> too dangerous. I mean come on -<span class="bb-u">Scott</span> was nearly among those in the pile out there."</span></font> concluded the gruff voice of Wolverine.<br><br>Jean didn't need to be reminded -of the scene or how close she came to losing Scott. Truly his only saving grace might've been that he hadn't been <span class="bb-i">right there</span> when it all went down; there was no entertaining the idea that Ryder would've discriminated. <font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i">"That carnage was a <span class="bb-u">reactionary</span> result,"</span></font> Jean pointed out in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, <font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i">"Ryder felt cornered. Threatened. She's been a lab experiment all her life. If either myself or Charles try anything in her mind, she might react on an instinctive level to the exact result we're trying to avoid."</span> </font><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"She's been <span class="bb-u">unconscious</span>. And the longer we wait the less she's probably gonna' stay that way."</span></font><br><br><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i">"We're not <span class="bb-u">waiting</span>, Logan."</span></font><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"Right. We've just been having regular round table discussions about how exactly we should act. Same difference."</span></font><br><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#4169e1"><span class="bb-i">"Not to forget, she may not be quite as unconscious as she's seemed,"</span></font></span> came the reasoning voice of X-Men's most hirsute; The Beast, <span class="bb-b"><font color="#4169e1"><span class="bb-i">"though, as far as we are aware, he has been proceeding without evidential certainty on the matter, Charles has been proceeding on that thought, none-the-less. So far the place hasn't come crashing down around us."</span></font></span><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"<span class="bb-u">So far</span>. If you ask me, Chuck is too close to this to base anything around. . .At least he's sound enough on the subject to keep her in the Danger Room."</span></font><br><br>And so that's where Ryder had been since the X-Men arrived on the unspeakable scene and jetted her, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Xavier back to the Mansion. <br>The Danger Room, some distance down the basement hallway from the Ready Room where the X-Men were having yet another meeting on the matter of "Ryder Xavier".<br><br>Despite Ryder's extensive injuries, she hadn't been housed in the Medical Lab for a moment. It was deemed too risky, especially as Cyclops would be recovering there. Not only was the Danger Room the most fortified of the entire building, being that the X-Men could train at realistic intensity, but the simulation technology it contained could also be utilized -and was- to make the environment appear more welcoming.<br><br>The very last thing they wanted was for Ryder to think she had just traded one captive situation for another.<br><br>They made the room look like one of the Mansion's bedrooms, complete with a window. That being said, they didn't want the gesture to be misconstrued as some ulterior motive illusion, and so they lowered the realism of the sim so it did appear, more or less, holographic. Ryder would be able to grasp her setting was manufactured, and they would be agreeable to changing it if she didn't appreciate their aesthetic. <br><br>They didn't delude <span class="bb-i">themselves</span> either --knowing full well once she was awake, it likely wouldn't take long for her to get a technic read on the place and be able to adjust the simulation at will. But at least anything she could do with it would be contained within this space. Beyond it, they had removed anything they thought she could use as a weapon, going analog where possible. <br><br>A return trip had also been made to Umbra within these past three weeks, with the intent to shut the place down. They were unable to locate Becker, and the only hidden rooms they found were the ones Jean already came across. But they had seen to absorbing the young charges into Xavier's institute, and had recovered some things, including -thanks to Beast's eye for advanced technology- a bit of the material the guards had had which blocked Ryder's powers. Beast had what amounted to an educated idea that's what it could do, anyway, and was currently in the midst of understanding it so he could do something with it himself.<br><br>In the meantime, Xavier had been making regular visits to the Danger Room to visit his daughter.<br>And for at least the past week, he had been making mental visits, too. Even in true coma, a mind was still active where the body wasn't.<br><br>He took it slow. Like a new neighbour making themselves known in no greater way than merely being outside, doing things in their own yard. Smiling when they'd catch your eye, but not making an attempt to draw you into conversation. <br><br>Today, Xavier decided to knock politely on the door, as for the first time the curtains hadn't been drawn. He had been able to see a few scenes within the mental "house" -Ryder seemingly going over her days at the Mansion so far.<br><br>They hadn't consisted of much beyond what care someone in her state would require, which was mostly carried out by Jean both because, despite the odd sensations she'd experienced, they felt she was best suited power-wise to be in such a position -a decision Cyclops couldn't argue, though he felt uneasy about each time Jean went in- and because from what Jean understood from the facility, it never seemed like Ryder was dealt with by anyone but males. They thought Jean would feel like a less hostile presence to her. As well, Jean had her level of empathy gained from the knowledge of Ryder's life.<br><br>Her husband's discomfort notwithstanding, Jean took the position willingly and, truth be told, had made similar "visitation attempts" to Xavier's, from a place of wanting to understand this girl. Both her pain, and how she could manage the degree she inflicted on others. That scene in the forest was the very embodiment of blind rage, and Jean wondered how Ryder's mind was processing that; if it even realized. But she had been treading even more carefully than Xavier.<br><br>Xavier was cognizant of Jean "stepping" here, like noticing remnants of footprints on the sidewalk. He had to smile at this. Though, he didn't perceive she had gotten as far as he now had. <br><br>This apparent fact pleased him all the more.</div></div><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="Writing Sample 3: from Our Mind's Shadowed Hallways">Writing Sample 3: from Our Mind's Shadowed Hallways [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none">Cool. Reserved.<br><br>Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, was often misunderstood as not caring when in fact he cared deeply. <br>So serious all the time because nothing was a throw-away to him; everything mattered. <br><br>Chief among it all, Jean Grey.<br><span class="bb-i">The center of his world</span>.<br><br>She had seen something past his dour exterior, had been open enough to receive him that he could open up to her; show a side to her few, maybe only she, knew.<br><br><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">Had</span></span>.<br><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">Knew</span></span>.<br><br>Everything was changed now. All of their history ceasing to exist in Jean's mind,<br><span class="bb-i">from a series of seemingly insignificant actions which turned into a majorly significant circumstance.</span><br><br>Sometimes Scott felt his entire life was defined this way.<br><br><span class="bb-i">Four people climb into a cockpit. Strap in. Take off. . .</span><br>The next thing he knew he was living as a brain damaged, unwanted orphan.<br><br><span class="bb-i">Three kids get into a fight. One never gets up. One can never go back. . .</span><br>Next thing he knew he was a mutant, and <span class="bb-i">that </span>defined everything about his life going forward.<br><br><span class="bb-i">Was that why. . ?<br><br>Two X-Men undertake a mission. Patrol a sector. Cross an invisible line. . .</span><br>Next thing, he was waking up in the Med Bay, his head feeling. . .<span class="bb-i">strange</span>.<br><br>And Jean woke up feeling he was a stranger.<br><br>She hadn't recognized the X Mansion, yet somehow had vague memories of Charles Xavier, and fractionally remembered the others. Ororo Munroe, Hank McCoy, Logan, etc. somehow she knew them, yet not Storm, The Beast, Wolverine -the X-Men as a whole, her place as one. <br><br>Was that why she remembered nothing of Scott Summers? He didn't know who he was if not Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. <span class="bb-i">But with Jean. . .</span><br>Was this proof he wasn't, in fact, anything else?<br><br>Taken with everything, that couldn't make sense.<br><br>Jean had no memory that she was even a mutant, but it wasn't as simple as saying she lost all memories pertaining to that, if she still recalled everyone else in some way. . <br>. .<span class="bb-i">none</span> of them she would've met had she not been a mutant. Scott needed things to make sense, and so little of this did.<br><br>What had even happened? The other X-Men had been patrolling other sectors. No one saw.<br><br>They had to have been hit by something. . .<br><br>A subsequent probe of the area with Cerebro bore no residual signature of another mutant, no device had been located and with the aforementioned absence of signature, no one could've come to dispose of one.<br><br>. . .Xavier worked out they had in fact <span class="bb-i">encountered</span> something, something that existed on a psychic plain- explaining why Jean was affected so drastically and Cyclops, comparatively nil. <br><br>So what was it? What was this? Coincidental? <span class="bb-i">Planned?</span> Scott's money was on the latter, but then who was behind it? <br>Was this their intended result? <span class="bb-i">Or was there more to the plan he needed to watch out for. . ?</span><br><br>He sighed as he finished crossing the hallways. It was already taking a toll, what he had to deal with in his head. . <br>. .<span class="bb-i">that strange sensation growing stronger. </span><br><br>Which is why Scott now stood outside the presently closed door to Xavier's office.<br>And the voices he heard inside is why he now stood <span class="bb-i">paused</span> outside that door.<br><br>Underway inside, rather, sounding like it had just concluded, was another of Xavier's psychic therapy sessions with Jean. <br>So far there'd been no breaththroughs. . .it didn't sound like one was made this time, either.<br><br>. . .Scott couldn't help eavesdropping.<br><br>He was finding it difficult figuring out how to be around her now. Where to start <span class="bb-i">over</span>.<br>Scott didn't want to get in Jean's way of remembering "herself". Desperate though he was for her to remember "them", he didn't want her to feel pressured to prioritize that. . <br>. .Events had a sequence. It wasn't for him to jump the line.<br><br>That's what he partially convinced himself of, anyway.<br><span class="bb-i">But there was also the matter of. . . . .</span></div></div><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">X-Men Envisionings: one passionate fan's riff on the FOX</span> X-Men <span class="bb-i">franchise.<br>Call it a fanfiction, call it what you will, but <span class="bb-u">don't miss out</span>!!</span></span></div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i"><sub><div class="bb-h2"><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-b">Xperience</span></font> <font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-b">NeXt Vol.#2!</span></font><br> <font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-b">Xperience</span></font> <font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-b">NeXt Vol.#2!</span></font></div></sub></span><br><span class="bb-b"><a href="https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/next-vol-2-part-1" title="https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/next-vol-2-part-1" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionin…</a></span><br><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#0096ff"> <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">New Parts release Fridays!</span></span></font><br><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">New Parts release Fridays!</span></span></font></div></sub></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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