.empathogen.
♡𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎♡
OH FUCK
© reveriee
-
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Futuristic the institute
- Thread starter Walliver
- Start date
.empathogen.
♡𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎♡
C H A N G E
© reveriee
Simon Strut
I am not a man, I am a bean.
Mentions
.empathogen.
Walliver
.empathogen.
Walliver
The secret was out. He had always wondered how he'd bring it to light, and always assumed it would be an accident. But not the kind of accident involving the near-death of a student.
Leander must have stopped boosting his powers, because Alexander could feel Syfa and Daven straining against their shackles. Daven was all brute force, constantly hammering away in his mind, but Syfa was more patient—she'd stay still most of the time, occasionally testing her restraints, waiting for the moment she could break free. But he was used to it, mostly.
This was the first time they'd been foiled though. Every time someone had hurt him, deliberate or otherwise, Alexander had never been able to stop them from killing their prey. He was worried that as soon as Leander stopped enhancing his powers, they'd burst out again, but they seemed dormant for now. That was good news, at least.
He had never seen such a display of power from Leander before. The similarities to Morgan Haywood were... Unsettling. Same powers, different man. He hoped there was enough of a difference.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Rip, the janitor, was standing behind the trip, mop and bucket in hand. The older man tutted and shook his head, then started cleaning away Thomas's blood and ashen stains while muttering away to himself.
I'll go check on everyone. Oh, and Alexander...I'm gonna need another telepathy restrictor."
Alexander ignored Leander's jab at him, and turned to Noah.
"So... What now?"
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.empathogen.
♡𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎♡
OH FUCK
© reveriee
Walliver
Two Thousand Club
“You need to get that man into a cell!”
Reality crumbled and the numbness of an oncoming vision settled in her hands. She sighed and resigned herself to whatever was about to happen. Visions could suck if she didn’t go into them willingly. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
The first thing she saw was a cell. A power cell, to be specific. The walls shimmered with whatever trick the MNTF- if that was what they were in this timeline- used to suppress mutant powers. In the furthest corner of the cell, curled into a ball, Edith spotted a familiar figure.
“Noah. Oh no, what did they do to you?” She whispered, approaching the transparent wall of the cell. He was paler than usual, which accentuated the inflamed scars that covered his body. The autopsy scar was still the most prominent. He was impossibly skinny- hell, she could see his entire cardiovascular system. She had seen him at his worst, and this was ten times that.
“Noah, can you hear me?” She asked. If she concentrated hard enough, sometimes she could connect to the other timelines. Noah looked up at her. Then started screaming.
“No, no, you’re not real! Stop, stop it! Stop coming here! Why won’t you stay dead, I killed you!” He screeched, fists coming up to strike the sides of his head. “You’re not real! You can’t hurt me anymore, I killed you!”
Edith backed away from the cell. So this was one of those timelines. Every two or three timelines, there was one where Noah snapped, or where someone else snapped and Noah was made to take care of it. A bleak destiny. She always worried that it was going to be her Noah next.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.” She whispered. Noah shook his head. He was bleeding where he had hit himself. She wanted to reach out, wipe it off, tend to his wounds the way she usually never could. This Noah probably wouldn’t take too kindly to that.
“It’s my fault. I killed you. You were in my brain, you were with Leander. You looked at something you shouldn’t have and it hurt and I wanted it to stop. Please don’t get in my head, please. Don’t let him get in my head again, don’t…”
The vision faded out. Edith snapped back into her body like rubber band pulled taut. Her head was pounding, but she was nauseous for a different reason.
“Okay. Alright. Phew, I need a nap.” Edith shook her head, turning towards the training room.
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Hvnny-Bvns0
╭・🌿𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹
Styr opened his mouth to speak, voice cracking as he tried to talk to Natasha. So many thoughts ran through his head, and he wanted to say them all. He wanted to reach out, and grab a string of words that would make it all right. But he couldn’t. As Natasha’s words processed, they simultaneously floated in the empty void and forcefully shoved their way into the jumbled mess that was his brain. He moved his mouth, but no words came out. He was unable to work with his emotions, and unable to work with his words, so he nodded. He wanted to make sure Thomas was alright, and he wanted himself to feel alright.
This had happened to Styr before: going nonverbal. Though this was the only time it was in a scenario such as this one. A safe environment, that was.
In the chaos of his mind, he began to feel drowsy. The time passed since training had been exhausting, and he had been woken up in the middle of the night anyway. He knew he should stay awake- to see if Thomas was okay. Or, hell, to see if he could help (though he wouldn’t admit that he wanted to). But that could wait. He just needed something, aside from a stack of paper cranes, to help distract him from his own mind.
He looked past Natasha, too ashamed to look at her. Too ashamed to even make a feeble attempt to speak to her. He grabbed on to her slevee, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. Under normal circumstances, this would be unheard of. But in the moment- in the chaotic, desperate moment- he needed to reach out and grab on to something. He needed a lifeboat, and Natasha was just that. She hadn’t yelled at him. She had been quiet. She had tried to help.
And he understood that.
.empathogen.
This had happened to Styr before: going nonverbal. Though this was the only time it was in a scenario such as this one. A safe environment, that was.
In the chaos of his mind, he began to feel drowsy. The time passed since training had been exhausting, and he had been woken up in the middle of the night anyway. He knew he should stay awake- to see if Thomas was okay. Or, hell, to see if he could help (though he wouldn’t admit that he wanted to). But that could wait. He just needed something, aside from a stack of paper cranes, to help distract him from his own mind.
He looked past Natasha, too ashamed to look at her. Too ashamed to even make a feeble attempt to speak to her. He grabbed on to her slevee, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. Under normal circumstances, this would be unheard of. But in the moment- in the chaotic, desperate moment- he needed to reach out and grab on to something. He needed a lifeboat, and Natasha was just that. She hadn’t yelled at him. She had been quiet. She had tried to help.
And he understood that.
.empathogen.
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ThatWhichShouldBe
Sleeper of Endless Eons Whence Death May Die
Simon Whateley
Simon arrives upon the Institute's doorstep like a comet, his descent slowed and cushioned by a scintillating aurora. He didn't need to, really- He could have just warped himself directly to the Institute's door, rather than cloaking himself and flying. But after a 'flaming tornado' turned out to have been a bunch of drunkards shooting fireworks into a tornado in Iowa, he felt he needed to have a little bit of him time. Even if it was only in the wind whipping past his face as he flew.
There's a burst of wind that sweeps across the grounds as his feet touch the ground, before Simon opens the door and heads in.
Only to be met by the quiet whisperings of a student body that had just seen an incident.
What the hell happened while he was gone?
Simon arrives upon the Institute's doorstep like a comet, his descent slowed and cushioned by a scintillating aurora. He didn't need to, really- He could have just warped himself directly to the Institute's door, rather than cloaking himself and flying. But after a 'flaming tornado' turned out to have been a bunch of drunkards shooting fireworks into a tornado in Iowa, he felt he needed to have a little bit of him time. Even if it was only in the wind whipping past his face as he flew.
There's a burst of wind that sweeps across the grounds as his feet touch the ground, before Simon opens the door and heads in.
Only to be met by the quiet whisperings of a student body that had just seen an incident.
What the hell happened while he was gone?
Simon Strut
I am not a man, I am a bean.
Alexander Blackthorne
Time: 07:45
Hours had passed. He wasn't sure how many, but sunlight had been streaming through the windows for some time now. All of the students had been escorted to their rooms, and informed that classes were cancelled for today. It made sense, Alexander could hardly imagine what some of them must be going through after seeing what happened during the exercise. He reckoned some of the students weren't particularly phased, but that didn't make him feel much better.
Hileena had designed the cuff on his wrist. An inhibitor cuff. She had never had to resort to using such a device before, but he supposed it was the rational choice given the predicament he'd currently put everyone in. Apparently the technology was fatal for lower-tier mutants, but still should be effective against mutants of his calibre too. He wasn't quite sure, though, he could still feel Daven rattling around in his mind.
The staff room wasn't your run-of-the-mill deal with a couple sofas, kitchenette and vending machine. It was a tad more... Luxurious. Of course Noah, or Edith, or whoever had funded this whole venture, could afford it. Alexander let his eyes wonder over the various amenities rather than meet the gaze of anyone present. That was until, finally, the last member of staff arrived. They had delayed the meeting this long to let everyone get some sleep. Of course, it wouldn't have been fair to expect them to keep up formalities without any rest. Alexander hadn't gotten any though, nor had any of the staff that volunteered to keep an eye on him.
When everyone was seated, Alexander turned to Noah.
"Where should I begin?"
Time: 07:45
Hours had passed. He wasn't sure how many, but sunlight had been streaming through the windows for some time now. All of the students had been escorted to their rooms, and informed that classes were cancelled for today. It made sense, Alexander could hardly imagine what some of them must be going through after seeing what happened during the exercise. He reckoned some of the students weren't particularly phased, but that didn't make him feel much better.
Hileena had designed the cuff on his wrist. An inhibitor cuff. She had never had to resort to using such a device before, but he supposed it was the rational choice given the predicament he'd currently put everyone in. Apparently the technology was fatal for lower-tier mutants, but still should be effective against mutants of his calibre too. He wasn't quite sure, though, he could still feel Daven rattling around in his mind.
The staff room wasn't your run-of-the-mill deal with a couple sofas, kitchenette and vending machine. It was a tad more... Luxurious. Of course Noah, or Edith, or whoever had funded this whole venture, could afford it. Alexander let his eyes wonder over the various amenities rather than meet the gaze of anyone present. That was until, finally, the last member of staff arrived. They had delayed the meeting this long to let everyone get some sleep. Of course, it wouldn't have been fair to expect them to keep up formalities without any rest. Alexander hadn't gotten any though, nor had any of the staff that volunteered to keep an eye on him.
When everyone was seated, Alexander turned to Noah.
"Where should I begin?"
Walliver
Two Thousand Club
The record for most hours gone without sleep remains unchanged and unchallenged; 264 hours in a scientific sleep study. Without water, the average person can survive around three days. In 1979, an Austrian bricklayer was locked in a police cell and went 18 days without water.
Sleep and water. Yeah, those would be great. Or maybe just sleep. Theoretically he didn’t need either- in theory he shouldn’t be able to feel hungry, thirsty, or tired. Psychosomatic, he supposed. Maybe it was just…well, everything, that had happened during the early morning drill.
Edith had a vision. Something apparently so terrifying that she spent an hour pacing the length of their room and the remainder of the time crying. Through tears she had explained the vision- another mental break of his. It was always his fault.
Which brought him to the task at hand: Alexander.
The sight of the inhibitor cuff on his wrist made him want to vomit. Noah adjusted the collar of his shirt, wishing he was wearing something different. It rubbed against his neck like the prominent memory of the inhibitor collar. It was for everyone’s safety, according to…it didn’t really matter who said it, it was all lies anyway. He noticed that Alexander had turned to look at him and quickly ceased his fidgeting.
“Well, for starters,” Noah looked down at his hands, “you could tell us what exactly that was back there.”
Simon Strut
Sleep and water. Yeah, those would be great. Or maybe just sleep. Theoretically he didn’t need either- in theory he shouldn’t be able to feel hungry, thirsty, or tired. Psychosomatic, he supposed. Maybe it was just…well, everything, that had happened during the early morning drill.
Edith had a vision. Something apparently so terrifying that she spent an hour pacing the length of their room and the remainder of the time crying. Through tears she had explained the vision- another mental break of his. It was always his fault.
Which brought him to the task at hand: Alexander.
The sight of the inhibitor cuff on his wrist made him want to vomit. Noah adjusted the collar of his shirt, wishing he was wearing something different. It rubbed against his neck like the prominent memory of the inhibitor collar. It was for everyone’s safety, according to…it didn’t really matter who said it, it was all lies anyway. He noticed that Alexander had turned to look at him and quickly ceased his fidgeting.
“Well, for starters,” Noah looked down at his hands, “you could tell us what exactly that was back there.”
Simon Strut
.empathogen.
♡𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎♡
C H A N G E
© reveriee
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Simon Strut
I am not a man, I am a bean.
Alexander Blackthorne
Alexander sighed. He hated to admit it, but Leander was right. He avoided eye contact with the other members of staff while he gathered his thoughts. Where to begin?
"I'm not..." He paused, shook his head, then continued, "I'm not a traditional mutant. My family has a long history of magic, and also a... Curse. As most of you probably know, I was an archaeologist before this. I've studied history—my family's history—for the better part of the last decade.
"It was roughly 500 BC when an ancestor of mine made a deal with some kind of entity. My ancestor was a banished warlord and the entity came to him in the form of a vision while he sailed the seas. The details of the transaction are sparse but we know that whatever he gave up, she offered him an army in response. Every now and then, one of his descendants-" he motioned to himself, "-are born with my... Affliction.
"I cannot die, except from old age. I heal from any wound, but when something truly should have killed me, a new life is born instead. A twisted version of life, at least. A Shadow. But every time this happens, I lose a part of myself: my memories, my ideals, my... Sanity. It takes years to recover, and even then I still feel like a part of me is missing."
He took a moment to breathe. The room was silent.
"A newborn Shadow is difficult to control, but with some practice and persistence, they eventually bend to my will. To some extent. They will completely ignore me if they think I'm in danger. They have some sort of sense for it, too. If someone tries to spike my drink, or stab me in the back, my Shadows will eliminate the threat. It's more curse than blessing though. They often know I'm in danger before even I do, but imagine if a barista spilt a hot cup of coffee on me. One of my Shadows would tear them to pieces.
"That's what happened earlier. Thomas tried to copy my powers to heal himself, the Shadows saw that as a threat, and I could no longer control them. You see, I'm not the only one the Shadows obey. They've been commanded by that entity from millennia ago to protect their creator at all costs. To what end, I can only speculate, but it's been my life's work to solve this mystery. Over the centuries, my family had many names for the entity: Va'Hargal, The Broken One, The Howl in The Night Sky, The Gilded Mother, Patron of Man. She... She comes to me, in my dreams. But I can never quite understand what her intentions for me are."
He thought back to the training hall. Thomas had seen it too, hadn't he? The golden stars, the endless ocean, spectral ships. The creature with no shape. In some strange way, it was almost a relief. Someone else had witnessed it with him. He wasn't insane.
He pulled his pendant out from under his shirt. It was about the size of a fifty-pence coin, made up of three identical triangles, all different metals. They met in the middle, but it was clear that the original shape was a pentagon and two pieces were missing. He wondered if Simon would have any reaction to jt.. The magic in the pendant was ancient, primordial even, but so faint that most magic-users wouldn't be able to pick up on it.
"This artefact was split into five pieces. I've recovered three of them. The entirety of my research has led me to believe that if this pendant was made whole, it will allow me to block out the Mother's influence over me and her—my Shadows, effectively ending my family's curse. But the Mutant Neutralisation Task Force was hot on my tail. I initially accepted Noah's offer to join the Institute simply to shake them off. But I had underestimated them... They found the majority of my research, and with their resources, it wouldn't surprise me if they knew more about my family history than I do.
"A piece of the pendant is out there, somewhere. All my leads have been dead ends. But I have my suspicions that the second piece is in the MNTF's possession."
Alexander swallowed. Now for the hardest part.
"When I first joined the Institute, I didn't know if I could trust anyone. It was the History Professor, Morgan, who I first confided in.” He grit his teeth. He could practically feel his blood boiling just from mentioning the man. "He was so powerful that I felt like if anyone could help me track down the other two pieces, it'd be him. And he advised me to keep it quiet. Most of us knew Morgan. He was radical, hated humans, but some of us thought that we could change him, that we could fix him. And he led us to believe that we could. Not long after leaving the Institute though, he killed forty-eight people in Paphos. On a whim. A man I trusted. And then, shortly after that, we invited his very own apprentice into our home.
"So, I kept my secret to myself. And I resigned myself to believing that I could only rely on myself to complete my mission. But you must understand, recovering the remaining pieces of this artefact is of the utmost importance. I cannot risk losing myself to the Shadows, or to the Mother, or I'll become a threat to everyone."
Alexander placed his hands on the table.
"So, whether or not I continue to pursue this underneath the Institute's roof is up to all of you. I won't have any objections to whatever decision you make. The students are important to me, of course, as are many of you, but my first priority is this curse."
Walliver
.empathogen.
Alexander sighed. He hated to admit it, but Leander was right. He avoided eye contact with the other members of staff while he gathered his thoughts. Where to begin?
"I'm not..." He paused, shook his head, then continued, "I'm not a traditional mutant. My family has a long history of magic, and also a... Curse. As most of you probably know, I was an archaeologist before this. I've studied history—my family's history—for the better part of the last decade.
"It was roughly 500 BC when an ancestor of mine made a deal with some kind of entity. My ancestor was a banished warlord and the entity came to him in the form of a vision while he sailed the seas. The details of the transaction are sparse but we know that whatever he gave up, she offered him an army in response. Every now and then, one of his descendants-" he motioned to himself, "-are born with my... Affliction.
"I cannot die, except from old age. I heal from any wound, but when something truly should have killed me, a new life is born instead. A twisted version of life, at least. A Shadow. But every time this happens, I lose a part of myself: my memories, my ideals, my... Sanity. It takes years to recover, and even then I still feel like a part of me is missing."
He took a moment to breathe. The room was silent.
"A newborn Shadow is difficult to control, but with some practice and persistence, they eventually bend to my will. To some extent. They will completely ignore me if they think I'm in danger. They have some sort of sense for it, too. If someone tries to spike my drink, or stab me in the back, my Shadows will eliminate the threat. It's more curse than blessing though. They often know I'm in danger before even I do, but imagine if a barista spilt a hot cup of coffee on me. One of my Shadows would tear them to pieces.
"That's what happened earlier. Thomas tried to copy my powers to heal himself, the Shadows saw that as a threat, and I could no longer control them. You see, I'm not the only one the Shadows obey. They've been commanded by that entity from millennia ago to protect their creator at all costs. To what end, I can only speculate, but it's been my life's work to solve this mystery. Over the centuries, my family had many names for the entity: Va'Hargal, The Broken One, The Howl in The Night Sky, The Gilded Mother, Patron of Man. She... She comes to me, in my dreams. But I can never quite understand what her intentions for me are."
He thought back to the training hall. Thomas had seen it too, hadn't he? The golden stars, the endless ocean, spectral ships. The creature with no shape. In some strange way, it was almost a relief. Someone else had witnessed it with him. He wasn't insane.
He pulled his pendant out from under his shirt. It was about the size of a fifty-pence coin, made up of three identical triangles, all different metals. They met in the middle, but it was clear that the original shape was a pentagon and two pieces were missing. He wondered if Simon would have any reaction to jt.. The magic in the pendant was ancient, primordial even, but so faint that most magic-users wouldn't be able to pick up on it.
"This artefact was split into five pieces. I've recovered three of them. The entirety of my research has led me to believe that if this pendant was made whole, it will allow me to block out the Mother's influence over me and her—my Shadows, effectively ending my family's curse. But the Mutant Neutralisation Task Force was hot on my tail. I initially accepted Noah's offer to join the Institute simply to shake them off. But I had underestimated them... They found the majority of my research, and with their resources, it wouldn't surprise me if they knew more about my family history than I do.
"A piece of the pendant is out there, somewhere. All my leads have been dead ends. But I have my suspicions that the second piece is in the MNTF's possession."
Alexander swallowed. Now for the hardest part.
"When I first joined the Institute, I didn't know if I could trust anyone. It was the History Professor, Morgan, who I first confided in.” He grit his teeth. He could practically feel his blood boiling just from mentioning the man. "He was so powerful that I felt like if anyone could help me track down the other two pieces, it'd be him. And he advised me to keep it quiet. Most of us knew Morgan. He was radical, hated humans, but some of us thought that we could change him, that we could fix him. And he led us to believe that we could. Not long after leaving the Institute though, he killed forty-eight people in Paphos. On a whim. A man I trusted. And then, shortly after that, we invited his very own apprentice into our home.
"So, I kept my secret to myself. And I resigned myself to believing that I could only rely on myself to complete my mission. But you must understand, recovering the remaining pieces of this artefact is of the utmost importance. I cannot risk losing myself to the Shadows, or to the Mother, or I'll become a threat to everyone."
Alexander placed his hands on the table.
"So, whether or not I continue to pursue this underneath the Institute's roof is up to all of you. I won't have any objections to whatever decision you make. The students are important to me, of course, as are many of you, but my first priority is this curse."
Walliver
.empathogen.
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Walliver
Two Thousand Club
Morgan.
Noah suppressed a shudder at the memory of someone he had once considered a close friend. The man was a ticking time-bomb, and then a monster. Noah had no room to talk. Anyone who did enough research knew that the blood on his hands made Morgan look like a saint. Still. Forty-eight innocent people were dead before he and the others killed Morgan. Four dozen people with families, loved ones, and friends.
And Noah had immediately accepted his apprentice into his home, the school, without a second thought. It was no secret that he was a sucker for a sob story, but that wasn’t it. Leander was a good kid. If he wanted to kill them, undermine them, do anything against them, he would have done it already. Still.
“If you ever became a threat to one of the students- barring the incident that happened this morning- none of us would hesitate to put you down. Permanently.” His voice was sharp, knife-like. There was nothing more important to him than the safety of hisfamilystudents. “That being said, I promised every one of you that, if you needed help, the Institute would provide it. That was the promise Yuri made, the promise that Ernest made, and the promise I will uphold.”
He forced himself to make eye contact with the younger man.
“For now, no more lies. If you need help with research, if you locate a piece and need to retrieve it, tell us. We can help with whatever you need.”
Simon Strut
Hvnny-Bvns0
╭・🌿𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹
Styr, upon hearing Thomas’s voice, was snapped out of his sleepy state. He stumbled inside, catching himself on the wall. He wasn’t usually that clumsy- but given the circumstances, it made sense. Adrenaline was the only thing fueling his brain.
”Hey,” he breathed, looking at Thomas. “You’re awake, thank fuck.” He laughed. Styr placed another small crane on Thomas’s bedside, before drawing his hands back to his side. Styr began to nervously pull at his shirt, having taken off the uncomfortable training suit already. He stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. His low empathy had never really gotten in the way before, but it sure did now. He really wished he could offer Thomas empathy, or sympathy related to anything but Styr’s own shock… any emotional support whatsoever. He really wished he could offer Thomas anything in that moment. Anything aside from, well…
“Do you like the cranes?”
”Hey,” he breathed, looking at Thomas. “You’re awake, thank fuck.” He laughed. Styr placed another small crane on Thomas’s bedside, before drawing his hands back to his side. Styr began to nervously pull at his shirt, having taken off the uncomfortable training suit already. He stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. His low empathy had never really gotten in the way before, but it sure did now. He really wished he could offer Thomas empathy, or sympathy related to anything but Styr’s own shock… any emotional support whatsoever. He really wished he could offer Thomas anything in that moment. Anything aside from, well…
“Do you like the cranes?”
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.empathogen.
♡𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎♡
C H A N G E
© reveriee
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.empathogen.
♡𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎♡
OH FUCK
© reveriee
.empathogen.
♡𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎♡
FRACTAL
© reveriee
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Hvnny-Bvns0
╭・🌿𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹
Dans rested her head against the seat in front of her, not too worried about Kenny’s driving. To anyone else, it would be reckless driving. But Dans knew- or, felt she knew- Kenny enough to trust his driving. It may have been stupid, but, worst case scenario: they all got into a wreck and died. Dans could bring things to herself, but she couldn’t bring herself places. A draw-back of her ability.
She looked to Kenny, then to Nari: her dark brown and shocking green eyes shifting between the two of them. There was a barely-contained smile on her lips as she took one of Nari’s hands in her own. They were out of that damn circus, and were finally safe.
As the Firebird came to a halt, Dans laughed and stepped out. It was the first time in a while that she truly felt free. She took Kenny’s hand, despite not needing any help to get out. Her years in the circus had done nothing if not help her build muscle mass. The tightrope was hard to walk if your legs and stomach were weak, after all.
Waiting for Nari to get out, Dans stepped back and took in the institute. Years ago, she had lived in a place like this: a large house, and a…
A…
…
Never mind that. If she forgot, then it probably wasn’t important. She looked to Nari and Kenny, a large grin stretched across her face. She stood by Kenny, hands shoved in the pockets of her thrifted dress. She glanced to Kenny and Nari.
“So, uh, how do we get in? Do we just knock, or will they come to get us? I mean- they’re not just advertising it. I wonder if they-“ she caught herself, as she began to ramble. “Should we just try to get in?”
She looked to Kenny, then to Nari: her dark brown and shocking green eyes shifting between the two of them. There was a barely-contained smile on her lips as she took one of Nari’s hands in her own. They were out of that damn circus, and were finally safe.
As the Firebird came to a halt, Dans laughed and stepped out. It was the first time in a while that she truly felt free. She took Kenny’s hand, despite not needing any help to get out. Her years in the circus had done nothing if not help her build muscle mass. The tightrope was hard to walk if your legs and stomach were weak, after all.
Waiting for Nari to get out, Dans stepped back and took in the institute. Years ago, she had lived in a place like this: a large house, and a…
A…
…
Never mind that. If she forgot, then it probably wasn’t important. She looked to Nari and Kenny, a large grin stretched across her face. She stood by Kenny, hands shoved in the pockets of her thrifted dress. She glanced to Kenny and Nari.
“So, uh, how do we get in? Do we just knock, or will they come to get us? I mean- they’re not just advertising it. I wonder if they-“ she caught herself, as she began to ramble. “Should we just try to get in?”
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Walliver
Two Thousand Club
“The cranes are…nice.”
Thomas squinted at Natasha. Her statement was confusing, but even he could understand the . Styr had apologized. The stack of paper cranes, the older teen fidgeting with their sleeves, and the concern about whether or not the cranes were satisfactory. It was apology enough- better than the false “sorry” or the insincere “I didn’t mean to.” Thomas had received plenty of both in his lifetime.
He sat up slowly. His mouth was still dry. When he looked at the clock, it read 7:45. He had been unconscious for hours. Hmm.
“I need to go shower.” Just as carefully as he had sat up, he got to his feet. Thomas looked to Styr, eyes pointed over his shoulder. “I forgive you, by the way. We’re,” Thomas paused for a moment, thinking of the phrase, “all good.”
“Am I free to leave?” He called out to Nat. He would probably leave anyway, but he wanted to be sure.
Hvnny-Bvns0
.empathogen.
Thomas squinted at Natasha. Her statement was confusing, but even he could understand the . Styr had apologized. The stack of paper cranes, the older teen fidgeting with their sleeves, and the concern about whether or not the cranes were satisfactory. It was apology enough- better than the false “sorry” or the insincere “I didn’t mean to.” Thomas had received plenty of both in his lifetime.
He sat up slowly. His mouth was still dry. When he looked at the clock, it read 7:45. He had been unconscious for hours. Hmm.
“I need to go shower.” Just as carefully as he had sat up, he got to his feet. Thomas looked to Styr, eyes pointed over his shoulder. “I forgive you, by the way. We’re,” Thomas paused for a moment, thinking of the phrase, “all good.”
“Am I free to leave?” He called out to Nat. He would probably leave anyway, but he wanted to be sure.
Hvnny-Bvns0
.empathogen.
.empathogen.
♡𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎♡
OH FUCK
© reveriee
Last edited:
Simon Strut
I am not a man, I am a bean.
This was the first time since moving to the Institute that Hileena felt uncomfortable here. She was grateful to Noah and the rest of the staff, of course. They were the ones who rescued her from the MNTF and took her in. Though, try as she might, she couldn't be angry towards Alexander for keeping his secrets. She had her own, after all... How long was it before they found out about the man in her secret lab? She had a feeling they wouldn't be as forgiving as they were for the History professor.
Right now though, Leander was taking charge. It was abnormal to see Noah take a backseat as much as he was. Yes, that man was a bit... Quirky sometimes, but he was a good leader. Of that much, Hileena was certain. There must be something wrong. But at least someone had stepped up. It wouldn't have been her—there was too much guilt on her mind to shoulder the burden of leadership.
Hileena glanced at Alexander, then looked away. Without making eye contact, she produced a magnetic key that unlocked his power-suppressors, ignored his thanks, then addressed the room.
"I should make a quick stop at the infirmary, confer with Nat about Thomas and Styr. Then I'm going to get some work done in the lab."
Without asking if there were any objections, Hileena fastened her lab coat and left the room.
.empathogen.
♡𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎♡
C H A N G E
© reveriee
Simon Strut
I am not a man, I am a bean.
Martha Madden
Scrolling through social media, Martha came to the conclusion that Tiana Khan was a bitch. She wasn't a criminal bitch, so there was nothing 'Flare' could do about it, but she was a bitch regardless. Martha sighed. Tiana hadn't done anything wrong, obviously, she just happened to be dating the guy that Martha'd had her eye on for a while. Bitch!
Public transport in Tangier was... Something else. The buses weren't notoriously safe, so her options were either petite taxi or grand taxi. The former was only good for travelling within the city, so Martha had to resort to the latter to get out of the city. Grand taxis were more like mini-buses, and only took tourists (and the occasional local) to specific destinations. She had to pay the driver a little extra to drop her off in this remote area, just outside the desert.
"Shukran!" She waved as the minibus doors closed behind her, then went back to scrolling on her phone. Ugh, look at Tiana's crusty nails. Martha didn't exactly have a perfect manicure, but at least she had an excuse. She set herself on fire every other day! Bitch!
It wasn't until the minibus was out of sight that Martha ran to her regular spot behind a pretty ugly cactus and a couple rocks (which, together, made a suggestive shape) and took off her jacket and sandals. Just as she was about to take off her shorts, her phone began to ring.
"Seriously, what do you want?" she asked, pressing her phone against her ear with her shoulder, "I'm a bit busy stripping naked right now."
"Always a pleasure, doll. I was just wondering if you could pop by to check on my parents before you come to the rally tomorrow. You are still coming, right?"
She struggled with her shorts, almost tripping as she took them off. "Yeah, every mutant and their nan's gonna be there! It'll be so funny, just watching them all pretend to be normal. And there's bound to be trouble." She frowned. "Been a while since I've been to the states though. MNTF's gonna be hot on my heels, I reckon."
"Are they not so bad out there, then?"
"Mmm, nah. They're growing, sure, but they don't have enough resources to stretch over the whole planet. I usually see them coming from a mile away, and by then I'm long gone."
The voice on the other end went silent for a moment, then spoke with genuine concern. "Still, be careful. And don't worry too much about the MNTF, we'll protect you at the rally."
"Whatever you say, bro. I can handle myself. I'll say hello to Mr and Mrs Churchill Windsor Buckingham Bartholomew Willoughby Blackthorne for you."
The man laughed, "We're not that posh, you know. We're as Northern as it gets."
"Alexander, mate. You literally have a Roman numeral after your name." With that, she hung up, took off the rest of her clothes, and stashed her phone with the pile.
With a stretch, Martha stared up at the sky. Yeah, there was definitely gonna be trouble at Solomon's rally. Nothing Flare couldn't handle though. That reminded her, she should check her fanpage, someone had posted a photo of what they thought she looked like and it had gone viral. It was nowhere near close, obviously, but it'd be fun to read all the comments. Later, though. Now, it was time to fly.
Scrolling through social media, Martha came to the conclusion that Tiana Khan was a bitch. She wasn't a criminal bitch, so there was nothing 'Flare' could do about it, but she was a bitch regardless. Martha sighed. Tiana hadn't done anything wrong, obviously, she just happened to be dating the guy that Martha'd had her eye on for a while. Bitch!
Public transport in Tangier was... Something else. The buses weren't notoriously safe, so her options were either petite taxi or grand taxi. The former was only good for travelling within the city, so Martha had to resort to the latter to get out of the city. Grand taxis were more like mini-buses, and only took tourists (and the occasional local) to specific destinations. She had to pay the driver a little extra to drop her off in this remote area, just outside the desert.
"Shukran!" She waved as the minibus doors closed behind her, then went back to scrolling on her phone. Ugh, look at Tiana's crusty nails. Martha didn't exactly have a perfect manicure, but at least she had an excuse. She set herself on fire every other day! Bitch!
It wasn't until the minibus was out of sight that Martha ran to her regular spot behind a pretty ugly cactus and a couple rocks (which, together, made a suggestive shape) and took off her jacket and sandals. Just as she was about to take off her shorts, her phone began to ring.
"Seriously, what do you want?" she asked, pressing her phone against her ear with her shoulder, "I'm a bit busy stripping naked right now."
"Always a pleasure, doll. I was just wondering if you could pop by to check on my parents before you come to the rally tomorrow. You are still coming, right?"
She struggled with her shorts, almost tripping as she took them off. "Yeah, every mutant and their nan's gonna be there! It'll be so funny, just watching them all pretend to be normal. And there's bound to be trouble." She frowned. "Been a while since I've been to the states though. MNTF's gonna be hot on my heels, I reckon."
"Are they not so bad out there, then?"
"Mmm, nah. They're growing, sure, but they don't have enough resources to stretch over the whole planet. I usually see them coming from a mile away, and by then I'm long gone."
The voice on the other end went silent for a moment, then spoke with genuine concern. "Still, be careful. And don't worry too much about the MNTF, we'll protect you at the rally."
"Whatever you say, bro. I can handle myself. I'll say hello to Mr and Mrs Churchill Windsor Buckingham Bartholomew Willoughby Blackthorne for you."
The man laughed, "We're not that posh, you know. We're as Northern as it gets."
"Alexander, mate. You literally have a Roman numeral after your name." With that, she hung up, took off the rest of her clothes, and stashed her phone with the pile.
With a stretch, Martha stared up at the sky. Yeah, there was definitely gonna be trouble at Solomon's rally. Nothing Flare couldn't handle though. That reminded her, she should check her fanpage, someone had posted a photo of what they thought she looked like and it had gone viral. It was nowhere near close, obviously, but it'd be fun to read all the comments. Later, though. Now, it was time to fly.
Walliver
Two Thousand Club
Edith winced a little, just at the sound of her own name.
“Oh, yeah, marathon night.” She put up a bit of a smile, hoping it was at least somewhat convincing. “Mr. Dreamboat himself is running for office. Honestly, this might be the first time I’m looking forward to voting.” She chuckled. “It’s nice that we get to go to the rally, even if it is gonna be protest central.”
At the mention of Noah third-wheeling, she paused. Her skin crawled merely thinking about spending time with him, the vision fresh in her mind and painful. Him, her, and Leander in the same room, the trio of individuals that caused that reality to happen? No way.
“Uh, he’s probably busy. Doing…work stuff.” Edith winced at her own excuse. It sounded pathetic to her own ears, it probably just sounded flimsy and untrue to Leander. “You’re a lifesaver for those snacks, by the way. My old bones could never make the trips you take.” She laughed, exaggerating.
“See you around 8-ish? A girl needs time to freshen up.” Edith winked before laughing.
.empathogen.
Hvnny-Bvns0
╭・🌿𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹
While Styr walked beside Thomas, he was really just following the other boy to the front door. He hadn’t been there for the longest time (a few months, maybe? He had been on the run for quite a while, and the days had started to blend together), and he was never known for his five-star memory, anyway. He couldn’t even remember if his own house was five blocks or four blocks down from the local park. Which, sure- not that intense. But he really didn’t want to try and think of examples.
Styr looked to Thomas, opting to strike up a conversation. He was a very social person, and the silence was only making this whole experience worse.
”You excited to meet them?” He asked, in reference to the new residents. He didn’t really care whether Thomas was excited, but it had been drilled into him by his mom that questions were essential to a conversation (“Yes, Styr, even if you don’t care about what they have to say. It’s polite.” His mother had always said). And asking about Thomas’s excitement was much better than asking about how he felt: which Styr cared about even less. Really, he couldn’t bring himself to feel much for other’s negative emotions. And he was pretty sure that Thomas felt nothing if not many of those.
He looked to Thomas, waiting for an answer, whilst forcing himself to make eye contact.
Walliver
Styr looked to Thomas, opting to strike up a conversation. He was a very social person, and the silence was only making this whole experience worse.
”You excited to meet them?” He asked, in reference to the new residents. He didn’t really care whether Thomas was excited, but it had been drilled into him by his mom that questions were essential to a conversation (“Yes, Styr, even if you don’t care about what they have to say. It’s polite.” His mother had always said). And asking about Thomas’s excitement was much better than asking about how he felt: which Styr cared about even less. Really, he couldn’t bring himself to feel much for other’s negative emotions. And he was pretty sure that Thomas felt nothing if not many of those.
He looked to Thomas, waiting for an answer, whilst forcing himself to make eye contact.
Walliver
