Futuristic the institute

[Simon Strut]

Alexander Blackthorne
There was something wrong with Lurch. It was to be expected, this situation wasn't... Ideal. But the last thing either of them needed was him to have a panic attack. Alexander almost put his hands on Lurch's shoulders, then recalled that he didn't like being touched. He just left his hands there, hovering rather awkwardly.

"Hey, look at me. Just take a deep breath." He locked eyes with Lurch. "Yep, just like that, copy me. In... And out. Again." He wasn't sure if it was helping, but focusing on one thing would hopefully distract him a little. Just to help a little more, he recalled Syfa back into his body. "Right, listen. You're with me now. Nothing's going to happen to you as long you're with me. Just keep breathing, stick by my side, and we've got this."

So much for flexing his muscles against the MNTF. He wasn't too bothered, getting Lurch to safety was a much bigger priority. Alexander led him in the general direction they'd left the bus. Where the hell were Noah and Edith? And Hileena?! They were much better at this than him. He taught History and kept to himself; he wasn't exactly a favourite among the students and residents.

"Stop." Alexander held out his hand for Lurch to stand behind him. He could take care of himself, of course, but Alexander wasn't going to risk it. Because they were most certainly in danger.

A woman holding a briefcase stood in the middle of the street. She was wearing tactical gear. Her eyes didn't so much as look at the two of them, rather than stare right through them. Syfa hissed. Daven growled. But they weren't focused on the woman. Ah, so that's how it is.

They were surrounded. Agents clad in black gear appeared from behind parked cars and out of alleyways. He counted over a dozen. But just because the two of them were out in the open, didn't mean they had no cover. Shadows seeped out of Alexander's skin, pooling around his feet. Syfa and Daven rose.

"Daven, protect him," he commanded, pointing a finger at the Shadow. He nodded, then placed both his colossal arms around Lurch's body, effectively cocooning him. "This'll be over in a moment, Lurch. Just... Sit tight. Syfa, let's play."

Syfa let out a croaky chuckle. It was a disgusting sound, sending a shiver down Alexander's spine. He clenched his jaw. Focus. The woman seemed like the leader. She'd be the first one to go. Alexander sprinted forward, Syfa shrouding him, protecting him from the onslaught of gunfire from the other agents. The woman didn't flinch.

When she was within reach, Syfa stretched out an impossibly long arm, and swiped at the woman, slicing her body into six clean slabs of meat. But then... There she was again, a few feet away. What? She was... A Mutant. The MNTF was using mutants now? How? There was no time to think, Syfa had her prey. She lashed out again, this time punching a hole through the woman, and then Alexander saw it: a perfect clone of the woman pushed itself out of her body an instant before the killing blow struck. Behind the spray of blood of the falling body, the clone backflipped away, then stood, waiting for him to try again.

Alexander frowned. She wasn't even trying to fight back. She must know that it'd be futile, but it seemed just as futile to try and kill her. Maybe he just needed to be faster. Syfa let out an unholy screech, rattling the very ground, the stretched as far as she could so she was still protecting Alexander while bisecting and impaling a seemingly endless supply of clones. This wasn't working...

He turned towards the other agents. A gunshot rang from behind. Syfa intercepted it. Shit, she's trying to keep my attention. Syfa wasn't going to attack the other agents now that the mutant had provoked her. The other agents were focusing on Daven now, and Lurch. And Daven... Shit! The Shadow's body was quivering. It wasn't hurt, anything but. It was just itching for a kill. It wasn't in its nature to protect someone other than Alexander.

"You stay right there!" Alexander shouted. They were at a stalemate, and it looked like the Shadows were going to be the first ones to break... What do I do?!

He pressed a button down on his watch, relaying an emergency to the other Institute Staff, along with their location.



Walliver

 

[Simon Strut]

Martha Madden
Jesus, Mary, and Beyoncé, he was gorgeous. He starting talking about the Institute or something, but Martha wasn't really paying attention. He looked like the kind of guy who'd look really good on a motorbike, not just moody and edgy like Alexander. She could see him replacing Johnny Depp in the next Dior Sauvage commercial. Just doing some nonsensical shit. Tying his hair into a bun and looking into a woman's eyes. Right, yeah, just like he was doing now.

Martha shook her head and grounded herself. She could daydream later.

"I'm Flare," she said, waving back at Dhariya and Dolores. The pair were definitely a bit awkward, but damn! Were mutants just all attractive as a rule? "And sure, you can call me a hero. Superstar, icon, 'my favourite person ever', those work too."

Since Hot-Russel-Brand mentioned the Institute, that must mean he was a mutant too. But she wondered if he too was a 'hero'. It was tough work, and she didn't blame most mutants for just looking out for themselves. But he'd easily be a ten if he was that kind of person. She was just saying... Or, thinking.

As they followed Dhariya downstairs, she couldn't help but be impressed by the mutant's powers. They definitely had a level of mastery over their abilities that a lot of mutants lacked. She could definitely see herself hanging out more with these guys. What if she took them on one of her vigilante sprees? She thought more about the dynamics before realising they were already out of the building. That was fast. But what if the security guard was gay? She supposed it hardly mattered, they had both bases covered with Hot-Russel-Brand on the team.

"Thanks for the assist." She turned to him. "But this is where I'm gonna have to love you and leave you guys. I'll meet up with you all wherever that vehicle is, or maybe at the Institute." She motioned for them to give her some space, then her fire form slowly crackled—then boomed—to life. "... Unless any of you can fly? No? Nevermind."

Within a second, she was in the clouds. Ouch. She didn't expect to take off so quickly. Hopefully the resulting explosion on the ground didn't have enough force to knock over any of the other mutants. Or singe their eyebrows off. She'd apologise for it later, if that was the case. Right now, though, she had business to attend to.

She flew in a giant perimeter around a few city blocks. The streets were pretty much empty, so it was easy to see if there was anything unusual going on. Now... Where was that bitch?

Buho Walliver .empathogen.

 

[Hvnny-Bvns0]

“Then wait for me, Lea.” Jack-Dane shot back. He caught up to Leander, choosing that moment to catch his breath. If Leander wanted to shorten his name, he’d shorten Leander’s as well. Jack knew his name was long, often too long to say comfortably, but in that moment, he couldn’t care less.
He shook out his hands, as though he was drying them off. “How far away are those sons of bitches?” Jack-Dane snapped, the shadows around him twitching with his rage. “When I get my hands on them, they better…” he began muttering, shoving open the museum’s heavy front doors. He stepped outside, walking beside Leander. There were a few people still scattered about, though most had taken cover- or cowered behind the MNTF, whose soldiers were quickly approaching the museum.
Well, that answered his earlier question. Without wasting a second, Jack-Dane ran down the museum’s front steps. He often forgot to use his powers when he was this angry. But, at least he wasn’t stupid enough to try and punch one through their armor.
Instead, he just used the soldier’s shadow to slam them into the ground before he punched them through their armor.
It still probably hurt Jack more than the soldier- but at least, that way, they did some actual damage.
They turned to Leander and growled, “back me up here!” Before taking down another with the same method.
.empathogen.

 

[Walliver]

Noah was worried. Pacing back and forth, picking at the feathers on his wings, the whole nine yards. He was always worried whenever the Institute was out without him- which was whenever the Institute was out at all. He kind of…couldn’t leave. Flashback to about a decade previous- yep, the Heartland Incident. Or, rather, the Heartland Massacre. Yeah, being wanted in every state and even other countries wasn’t exactly good for PR.

Which brings us to now.

“Edith, what the hell is going on out there?” Noah practically yelled into the phone. He heard Edith wince, the sound of gunshots echoing afterwards.

“I’m kind of pinned down here, love.” She spoke, more gunshots following after. “I think we all might be. The MNTF’s got a mutant on their side- one of those Metamorphs that can clone themselves.”

“What?” Noah nearly dropped the phone. “Can you get to safety? Where’s Solomon? Do you have eyes on any of the kids?”

“One question at a time.” She sighed. Then, a piercing ringing noise. “Shit! The emergency alert! It’s coming from Alexander. You remember that trick we’ve been trying?”

“The disguise?”

“Yeah.”

“On it.”

Within minutes, Noah was on the scene. Only…well, let’s just say he didn’t look like Noah. He looked like a monster, for lack of a better term. Where a face would have been, there were only red eyes and massive fangs, opening into a maw of razor sharp teeth. Normally well-preened wings looked mangled and bloody. The feathers that covered his wings seemed to merge into the rest of his skin, covering up whatever might have once appeared human.

Several of the MNTF soldiers backed up, but the mutant seemed to have no reaction. Noah turned to Alexander, eyes flickering briefly to Lurch.

“This one’s not the original. Get Lurch and whoever else you can find to the bus, Edith’s there.” He needed some space to work. He couldn’t afford the possible casualties or the distraction that Alexander’s Shadows might create.

“Sorry for not getting here sooner. Now go.”

Simon Strut

 

[.empathogen.]

C H A N G E

i'm cast away, but it's fate's hand and sword I carry to cut you down

break the void

shift it

the reflection shows too little fear

Cobra(Feat. Spiritbox)

— Meg the Stallion

mood: "Enough..."
location: Outdoor
interactions: Jack-Dane

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Leander stepped into the thick of it, just as the opposing forces were covering the area. They had guns and they knew exactly what their target was. It was an ask questions later, shoot guns now affair and every bullet had his name on it. The sound of firearms echoed off the stoned walls, with gunsmoke billowing away carelessly. Leander continued to walk towards the militia, the bullets that whizzed toward him stopping in flight and twisting into little metal flowers before harmlessly falling to the ground.

"This is pointless!" he called out to them, as they scrambled to reload their weapons. Leander lifted up his hand, palm gripping the sky, and willed the earth behind them to arch upward. He shifted his mind and the vehicles the MNTF forces had arrived in flipped onto their side, then upside down. There was now enough shadow for JD to work with. Another flex of his mind and the risen earth curved into an inverted pit, allowing no room for escape. Leander felt the boundless energy well up within him and poured it into JD, while simultaneously sharing a thought with him.

'We've got them right where we want them, now lets make sure they don't even lay their eyes on our people," he thought to JD, while shielding him from the onslaught of bullets hailing down on them.
Hvnny-Bvns0

© reveriee

 

[Simon Strut]

Martha Madden
Who the hell was that sniper? MNTF, probably. But they never just send in one operative. And there was something strange about her, that glassy look in her eyes, the way she didn't acknowledge a single thing happening in front of her. Martha would have thought she was a mutant, but that would go against the MNTF's nature... Right?

As she continued to circle the area from the skies, she surveyed the streets. Ah, there's the rest of them. A bunch of agents in black body armour had gathered at the corner of a street, and the assassin from earlier was present. They surrounded two men. Even from this height, Martha recognised Alexander immediately. Bit hard to miss cheekbones that could cut diamonds... Oh, and the demonic shadow creatures, she supposed. And that's when she saw it: Alexander's Shadow (Sophie? Selena?) swiped for the assassin, but she managed to dodge it by substituting herself with a clone. So she was a mutant! That... Changed things. She'd never encountered a mutant who was this hostile towards their own kind, never mind one that literally worked for the enemy. So maybe it wasn't the MNTF after all.

Martha didn't bother intervening. Alexander certainly looked like he needed a hand, but she knew her best bet was to stay in her fire form, especially with so many stray bullets flying around. On top of that, the last thing she needed was for her to get too close to Alexander and his Shadows seeing her as a threat. But she could definitely snipe the assassin with a fireball from up here. Before she could ready her attack, a newcomer arrived, tearing through the agents. A... Bird... Thing. It was about as much of a bird as a chicken was a velociraptor. Alexander seemed to know what was going on, at least, because he and the second man retreated.

There was a bus parked in the distance, where the two seemed to be headed. Martha cracked her knuckles (or pretended to, at least). Simple escort mission: she'd watch from the skies and eliminate any more threats that came their way. Bird-thing seemed to have the assassin and her posse covered. This was going to be easy.

Then she heard the shots ring out. Martha raised an eyebrow. A group of agents stood atop a nearby rooftop, aiming for her. They were clearly well trained, since none of the bullets missed, but the very few that managed to not melt before reaching her just passed right through. What a nuisance. Martha flew down to their level to get a more clear shot. She didn't want to hit a stray power line and fuck up the electrical grid (again). These guys were different though, their uniforms were clearly embroidered with the MNTF logo. So the agents from before, a stealth team? Or something altogether different? What the hell was going on? Surely the MNTF wouldn't be this brazen and try to execute Solomon in public?

She readied an arrow of fire. Props to the MNTF guys, they didn't even try to run for cover. Why was she ever scared of these imbeciles?

A lance of pain shot up her spine. What just...

She was falling. Twice in one day, huh? But her flames had gone out. Her mind fogged over. A power suppression field. She caught a glimpse of an agent holding one of those advanced weapons she'd always heard about, and then a moment later, she hit the ground.

 

[Simon Strut]

Alexander Blackthorne
Lurch didn't like being touched, but Alexander couldn't risk the man freezing up in panic, so he grabbed a hold of his cuff, making sure not to make skin contact, and ran for the minibus. Not much further now! Stray bullets flew their way but Syfa's hands materialised and caught them before they could hit him or his companion.

They rounded a corner, and there! The bus was in sight. Edith sat behind the steering wheel, concern written on her face. Alexander pushed Lurch ahead of himself, urging him to get on the bus first. Just then, he heard footsteps nearby, tensing up and preparing his Shadows.

"Thank god, you're here." It was Hileena's voice. "Lurch, too. Where are the rest of the kids?"

Hileena, Nat, Solomon and his secretary, the Institute's old librarian, had arrived. Alexander's shoulders dropped.

"You should all get on the bus, fortify this location, and wait for the rest of us." He spoke loud enough for Edith to hear too. "Noah's on scene, so this should get wrapped up pretty quickly. Leander and Jack-Dane?"

Sonia replied, "Your colleagues are back at the museum, holding off the MNTF that jumped us there."

Alexander nodded, his eyes flicking back and forth, thinking. Right. Those two would be fine, Leander was simultaneously a walking nuke and presidential bunker. It didn't make any sense though. The MNTF wouldn't break the law like this, attacking a politician in broad daylight, a human one at that? It would destroy their image entirely. They weren't in their regular uniform either. Was it a political play? Eric Vaughn hiring mercenaries to take out his competition, or at least scare him into giving up? No, that wasn't it, these agents were too professional to be mercenaries. And that mutant... What was up with that?

Another thought interrupted the questions. The new kids. Where were they? Martha was supposed to be at the rally too. He pulled out his phone and rang her. Nothing. That was disconcerting, Martha never missed a call. He took a deep breath in, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a mess.

"Damn it," he sighed, relaying this information to Hileena. "You guys have got this from here, right? Edith, I'm going to go search for everyone else. If we don't make it back in ten minutes, leave without us. Any objections?"

Walliver .empathogen.

 

[Hvnny-Bvns0]

Jack-Dane stepped back, now looking down at the soldiers stuck in the man-made pit. The MNTF’s bullets all clattered to the ground around him, thanks to Leander’s intervention.
”Remind me to treat you to a coffee!” Jack-Dane called back to Leander. “It’s the least I can do!” He grinned, as the MNTF soldiers were thrown about. Due to the power suppressants, he was only able to do so a small amount- but knocking armored soldiers into each other at full force did a lot of damage under the right circumstances.
And, after just a few minutes of Jack-Dane’s petty and rage-induced tossing-people-around fest, most of the MNTF seemed just about ready to collapse.
”Think that’s good enough?” Jack-Dane asked Leander, walking back to the man’s side. “Are we just going to leave them there, anyway? Or will they be target practice for the kids?” He grinned. It was primarily a joke, but Jack-Dane wouldn’t say he considered it to be entirely off the table.
.empathogen.

 

[Buho]

Dolores Peña​

Dolores wouldn't remember making a break for the bus after the fact. She could make out a few blurry details: a man shepherding them in the direction of the vehicle, the crunching sounds of metal on pavement, strange pops and sharp impacts that she wouldn't recognize as gunfire until later. She could recall gripping Dhariya's hand as they sprinted on the edges of the chaos and the violence. More than anything, she remembered being scared.

She remembered the bus ride more clearly than anything that had happened prior. It was the cleanest school bus she'd ever ridden on -- there was no gum in the crannies of the window sill, no grafitti on the backs of the seats, no tears in the cool grey seat cushions. It was also the quietest school bus she'd ever ridden on. Exhaustion and fear radiated off of the other passengers, making the air around her thick and tense. Dhariya had looked as sick as Dolores felt.

When they were out of the city, the bus driver pulled over and stood in the aisle. She was middle aged, blonde, and exhausted. Her eyes scanned the bus, as if looking for the answer to an impossible question. She began giving them an earful, and Dolores tuned it out. It didn't have anything to do with her.

Until it does, she thought. After all, she was on the bus. She was with these people. Somehow, despite her focus and her self-preservation, Dolores had become involved with something dangerous. Something, judging from the heart-wrenching voice of the women at the front of the bus and the faces of her fellow passengers, that not everyone could come back from.

She stared at the back of the seat in front of her. For the billionth time, she recalled the night her life changed forever. She felt her chest ache as she pictured her ex walking through the front door with a girl on his arm. Her stomach lurched with the imagined smell of vodka and whiskey, and finally the taste of the dried slice of mushroom on her tongue. She remembered the sensation of flying, and then falling. She remembered making the choice to exit -- not in a physical way, not exiting a room, but exiting on a cosmic level, or maybe being excised. She remembered the shadows. She remembered grandeur, immensity, unfathomable lengths of time. She remembered thinking she had died. And she remembered re-entering her body and being convinced that she would never truly be as alive as that ever again.

She brought her mind back to the bus. To the blood on the faces and hands of the passengers, and the smell of sweat and smoke. To where she was and what had just happened.

I should have never gone to that fucking party.

 

[.empathogen.]

C H A N G E

i'm cast away, but it's fate's hand and sword I carry to cut you down

break the void

shift it

the reflection shows too little fear

Members Only

— N.B.T.

mood: "fuck..."
location: Parking Lot
interactions: JD and company

scroll

Leander hated doing this, but it was his only option now. It looked as if the amount of the task force operatives had reached it's limit for who was going to face him. He could do this, but he hesitated, only for a moment. He felt it as he thought it, the haze coming down upon parts of his mind. He didn't have to reset their memories completely, or erase anyone from their minds. He just had to reset them to the point where they'd consider this a run of the mill dream. He closed his eyes, not daring to look anyone in the eye as he used this cheap tactic. His fists clenched as they all fell, simultaneously.

Leander opened his eyes and took in the scene. They were breathing and he was still standing. He didn't waste any time to get the hell out of there. The power dampeners were finally starting to pierce the defenses he had up. 7 or 8 more of those damned things would really start to wear him down, even with him at full potential. Leander was something stronger than a glass cannon, though, and that made the difference.

"JD, to me!" he said running in the direction of the place where he'd parked his bike. As they crossed the streets, Leander noted the flavor of Alexander, Noah, and Edith's presences respectively. Edith was the closest, right next to their destination. Leander also noted that the speedster they'd gained the day prior was close too, though he wasn't as used to the guy's wavelength as he was to everyone else's. Nat and Edith were piling everyone in the bus, right on time.

"Get in!" Leander yelled, watching all of them--including Andrew-- enter the vehicle. He took out his keys and almost dropped them with fumbling hands as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. He reached his vehicle, a fully mint yellow Indian Cruiser. "Come on, baby." he said, turning the key and pumping the ignition. It roared to life and he straddled the bike, waiting for the signal to roll out.

© reveriee

 

[.empathogen.]

FRACTAL

Split second decisions lead to splitting headaches on your lap, in Ohio

pass up time

zoomies

if only I could afford to give a fuck

The News

— paramore

mood: "wooo!"
location: Building, then Parking-lot
interactions: Dhariya, Delores, and the rest of the crew

scroll

Kenny merely blinked in utter confusion as he watched the metamorph do their work. The shifts were efficient and seamless. Kenny had to admit, there was something to admire in the way they changed everything but the core of their mind on the fly. The security guard nodded them along, making the experience as smooth as it needed to be. It was in haste that they made it to the first floor and slipped out of the building.

"Kudos, my guy." Kenny chuckled, slightly more at ease as they exited. Now it was his turn. "Sweet." he thought to himself, reluctantly thankful for this being a day when he could stretch his legs and run freely. He backed up a few paces away from the duo and just ran for it, pushing off at the proper speed to get them where they were going. He grabbed them by their wait at what he felt was like a slow jog for him. Still, it was a pace that was as fast as it could be while safely carrying his companions. Just under 90 seconds, he was there, just as Leander revved his motorcycle. The bus honked and The mess of hair from the school nurse helped all the individuals that had traveled there from the Institute into the bigger vehicle. He let his passengers step forward onto their feet.

"Well," He exhaled, shaking out his hoodie, "Thank y'all for the help up there. You're good people." he pointed toward the bus. "These are good people too. We can take you out of here, get ya wherever you need to go. All you gotta do is follow me." With that, he made his way to the bus, got in, and sat down in the front for a second, wondering what the hold-up was on getting out of there.
Walliver Buho

© reveriee

 

[Simon Strut]

Alexander Blackthorne
Alexander flipped up his visor, pulling up next to Leander. The growl of Leander's bike drowned out the electric whine of his own.

"I need your help," he said. Not the easiest thing to ask for, but beggars can't be choosers. Martha was supposed to be here, and Alexander couldn't risk going out alone against the MNTF or whoever else was out there.

Leander's head swiveled to Alexander's view. "We're not exactly in the position to be waiting to go, Blackthorne," he said urgently, "Make it a quick one, dude."

His helmet did a good job of hiding his frown, but couldn't do much for the tensed shoulders. He really didn't have the time right now to explain what was going on

Syfa, out!

The Shadow expelled from his body, begrudgingly slithering away to lurk underneath a van half a block away. Hopefully its appearance hadn't terrified any of the newcomers. With Syfa gone, Alexander turned to Leander, focusing his thoughts and memories. Leander must have known what he intended because he felt the mutant's psychic touch—or rather, he felt Syfa's displeasure. He put some of his focus on the Shadow, making sure to keep her under control. As long as Leander only looked at his thoughts and didn't pry too far without permission, Syfa would remain relatively dormant.

Alexander placed an image of Martha in his mind. He tried to convey as much information as possible while still keeping it all coherent. Friend. Ally. Mutant. Fire Elemental. A-tier. Flare. Vigilante. Asset. Friend. Only friend. She was at the rally earlier, can't get in touch with her. Might be in trouble. We have to find her, save her! Can't let her down. Can't happen again. Callum. Brother. Michael. Brother. More images flashed through his mind, accompanying each thought. Martha, flying through the sky in her fire form. Chasing the man he thought was Morgan earlier in the alleyway. The telepathic presence he thought he had felt at the rally. The streaks of blood tracing down Callum's forehead, around his dead eyes. Dismembered limbs strewn about the rubble at the Pafos Massacre.

Alexander grimaced, twisting his neck in discomfort as he let his mind go blank. He had given Leander a bit more information than he'd intended, but he doubted the mutant understood a majority of it. A moment later, Leander made his presence known in Alexander's mind. He could almost see through Leander's eyes, or his psychic sense to be more precise. His vision flew to the sky, surveying the surroundings. Minds glowed like pillars of light, all various hues, mutant minds feeling different altogether. Leander wasn't sure what he was looking for, but the fact that she was a mutant seemed to be enough.

After a while of sifting through minds at a blinding speed, there was a presence that blazed hotter than the sun. She was blindfolded, had an inhibitor collar tight around her neck, arms and legs restrained, and was being carried to a truck. The truck doors slammed shut. The vehicle must have been fitted with a power cell, because her mind disappeared once she was inside.

"I think I found her... But you won't like what I tell you," Leander said out aloud, reiterating what they had both just discovered. He reached back for his helmet. "She's been incapacitated and captured. I'm sorry," he said, sliding the black and yellow protection over his head.

Alexander's grip on his bike's handles tightened until his knuckles grew sore, while Syfa returned to his body. He had promised Martha that he and the Institute could protect her. That she didn't need to worry about the MNTF while she was here. It was a bold-faced lie. He could leave the Institute right now, go and save her. But... Leander was right. There was a reason he refused to help. The full force of the MNTF wasn't present, but it was certainly on its way. A few of the staff might be able to handle themselves, perhaps, but that didn't guarantee the safety of the students. Right now, their position was far too vulnerable, and Alexander couldn't abandon them. Even if he did try to help Martha now, even if he did manage to kill every last MNTF agent responsible for her capture, she was still their hostage. They could kill her much faster than he'd feasibly be able to save her.

He needed to punch something. He needed to break something.

Martha would have to wait. They'd reconvene at the Institute and figure out a plan to break her out. The MNTF preferred experimentation to elimination, after all. Without another word, Alexander revved his engine and took off, escorting the bus from the front.

Her mum's going to kill me.

.empathogen.

 

[Walliver]

Edith waited, a white-knuckle grip on the wheel, for everyone that was left to file into the bus. Standard vehicle, a mostly nondescript bus. Classic yellow, unsuspecting, exactly designed not to draw too much attention. Anything and everything that the Institute had was designed that way- cars, buses, and the buildings they lived and worked in. Edith
herself had made sure of that. So what had happened?

She quietly stewed as the bus rumbled along the road back towards the Institute. They were one of many vehicles fleeing the scene- one of a few buses, thankfully. It would seem they weren’t the only educational institution that wanted to attend the rally. They weren’t the only ones frightened by the turn of events either.

When Edith saw that the road was clear, she stopped the bus. They were still miles from the Institute, but she couldn’t keep in her concerns or her rant any longer. She also couldn’t drive while talking, especially not while yelling. She turned around in her seat, facing the crowd behind her. Everyone looked slightly panicked. She could hear Alexander’s bike slow to a stop nearby.

“Okay. Does anyone wanna tell me what the hell happened out there?” She asked first, seething. Edith was angry, scared, and itching for an answer as to why everything had gone so horribly wrong. “We were supposed to have eyes on any potential threats, that sniper shouldn’t have been able to fire off a single shot- much less three!” She shouted, eyes landing on the small group of politicians they were carting off to their secret school. She quickly shook her head, focusing her eyes somewhere vaguely on the crowd.

“We lost people, I know that much. I saw at least one of us get shot. I saw the MNTF take down more. That should not have happened. This should have been the safest trip we have ever taken- safer than the damn United States Capitol. We had protocols for this, we’ve had protocols for this kind of thing since the founding of the Institute! You all knew what you were supposed to do in this kind of case. No one did it. No one pressed their emergency button until we were literally under fire from all sides!”

Edith took a moment, chest heaving from the exertion of such a speech. She had never been this angry. She had only been this scared once before. She looked out on a bus of frightened teenagers and young adults, a bus of weary and sorrowful staff. Her eyes fell on Noah. The transformation had worn off and he was back to looking normal. There was blood smeared around his mouth, undoubtedly some on his fangs as well. Some of his wounds were still in the process of healing- bullet wounds always took a little longer to patch up. He had that look on his face, the look when he was trying to block out the emotions he inadvertently felt from others.

“I understand you’re all hurting.” She took a breath, hands clenched into fists at her side. “But you need to understand. All of you. This day has been a lesson. This is what happens when we let our guard down. This isn’t going to happen again.”

She turned away from the crowd of haunted faces and started the bus back towards home.

Simon Strut .empathogen. Hvnny-Bvns0

 

[Simon Strut]

​

Bern, Switzerland
Andrew Solomon’s speech was being broadcast on news channels across the globe. It was conservatively estimated that 2.6 billion people were tuning in. Dr. Elena Jade was one of them.

A gathering of several hundred protestors, pro- and anti-mutant, had formed outside the Federal Palace of Switzerland. Police were out in droves, maintaining the barriers between both groups and ensuring peace. The Swiss government had denied the MNTF’s offer of ‘aid’, to suppress any rowdy mutants among the protestors. That was no surprise, of course, Switzerland was one of the very few nations that had introduced equal rights for mutants—which had resulted in nationwide mutant crime dropping to 4.2%. Compared to the European average of 35%, it became clear to most Swiss politicians that if they ‘treated mutants like humans, they’d act like humans’.

Elena had expected it to be a lot louder. From her guest room at the palace, she could make out the entirety of the crowd. They were silent, for the most part, all of them intently watching Solomon’s speech on big screens that had been set up for that very purpose. That man was going to change mutant lives worldwide. American politics were perhaps isolated and even alienated from the rest of the world, but Elena would be remiss into thinking that the outcome of this speech wouldn’t send shockwaves through politics on a global scale. And if Solomon actually became President, he might very well have the power to dismantle the MNTF entirely.

The MNTF. The boogeyman in every mutant’s closet. Their headquarters were in the USA, of course, but they had footholds all over the world. Germany, South Africa, India, Greece, Singapore, and the UAE all had major bases of operations, but there were smaller bases dotted all over the globe. Countries like France and Switzerland, however, which refused to allow the MNTF’s presence, often became havens for mutants, resulting in mass migration and steady increases in mutant population in pro-mutant countries. The UK didn’t have an MNTF base either, for reasons of sovereignty, but they still considered them allies.

It all came down to this.

Lucius Thorne, the man that had been a thorn in Elena’s side for the entirety of her political career, was due to propose a new act in parliament next week. The Mutant Registration Act. It was being marketed as the only way to keep Britain safe from mutant terrorists, but if it went through, every member of the British population would have to be tested for the mutant gene. Any mutants deemed a threat to public safety, B-tiers and above, would be deported to the nearest MNTF base. Using powers in public would be illegal. Mutants caught committing a crime could be sentenced to life in prison. Schools, employers and hospitals would be allowed to reject people purely based on if they were mutants. It was as close to an act of genocide as possible, and Thorne would get away with it.

But not if Solomon became President. Elena ignored the food and drink that had been set on the table for her, focusing on the TV while she sat on the edge of her seat. She glanced out of the window every so often, to gauge the crowd’s reaction to Solomon’s words. It was as if the entire country was listening in raptured silence. Perhaps the entire world was.

Elena’s success was rooted in Solomon's success. She had been fighting a losing battle for the better part of the last decade, but this would turn the tide in her favour. She clutched the sides of her armchair, her breath catching on every word Solomon said. He could do it. He was going to change everything. Elena could feel a smile on her face. After he was done, she’d walk out to the podium set up for her and deliver her own speech to the protestors: congratulating Solomon and discussing mutant rights in the EU.

Then came the gunshots.

The entire world stood still. The broadcast switched to a view from a helicopter, showing an audience of thousands dispersing in panic, more gunshots fired from a nearby building. Solomon was nowhere in sight.

Elena didn’t realise she’d stopped breathing until she heard screams from the crowd outside. Pro-mutant protestors had broken through one of the barriers, assaulted the police and the opposing protestors. All hell broke loose. Gunfire and screams. Thrown bricks and smashed placards. Then, a mutant in the crowd shot a bolt of lightning wildly into the air. Shards of ice followed from another side of the protest. One mutant sprouted organic blades from her chest and charged headfirst into the anti-mutant protestors, who had all come armed. The ground began to run red with blood.

“We have to go!”

Elena’s husband appeared in the doorway. She looked at him, wide eyed, failing to let out the words.

“Elena, please!” He reached out with a hand, beckoning her to come with them. “It’s not safe, we need to leave.”

She pulled herself to her feet, one shaky step after another. “But, we… They need help. Brian, we can help.” Her voice came out as a whimper as she fell into his arms.

“There’s nothing either of us can do now. Come on.”

She followed him through the palace, making their way to the back gardens, followed by the sounds of vehicles crashing, gunshots and thunder. Her thoughts raced. This was impossible. How did this happen? Was Solomon dead? The Institute was supposed to be at the rally. Surely they…

Her mind cleared.

“Martha’s at the rally.”

Brian froze, turning to her, mouth agape.

“She told me she was considering joining the Institute. That she’d meet them at the rally. She’s… She’s there.”

His eyes darted back and forth and his brow furrowed, then he grabbed her by the wrist. “Let’s go.”

There were underground tunnels for emergencies like this. Wide enough for two cars to drive side by side. As Elena sat next to Brian, their escort in the driver’s seat, she felt her hand shaking in his. Brian wrapped his hand in both of his.

“She’s fine. You know what she’s like, what she can do. She’s more than capable of defending herself, and, like you said, the Institute’s there too.”

Elena shook her head. “It’s because I know what she’s like that I’m worried.”

As the car exited the tunnels, Elena’s phone began to ring. She breathed a sigh of relief at the name.

“Alexander, give some good news.”

He didn’t reply.

“Alexander…”

“They’ve got her. MNTF. But I’ll get her back, I—”

Elena hung up. Brian watched her with a worried expression. After a moment, she clenched her jaw. Well, desperate times…

“How much are flights to America?”

 

[Walliver]

Dhariya felt sick as they listened to the older woman speak. Nausea roiled in their stomach and a headache began to pound behind their eyes. A combination of physical and mental exertion, and a strange sense of guilt. She knew nothing of the protocols for safety that the woman had mentioned, nor was she involved in looking for a sniper, but she felt guilty still. People had died and Dhariya hadn’t helped. She didn’t know if she could have helped at all.

They were relieved when the driver sat back down. A tall man with a mouth smeared in blood went to sit with her. No one in the bus seemed to breathe for a few moments. Then the bus was rolling again.

The ride back to…what was it they called it? Ah, right, the Institute. The ride back to the Institute seemed to last forever. The scenery changed a few times in the last few minutes of the ride. The view through the window seemed to shimmer and flicker. It was a wide field, then a dark forest, then the middle of a city. At last, the shimmering and flickering stopped and the view of a large set of buildings appeared: the Institute.

Dhariya watched the others get ushered off the bus by unknown staff, people he assumed he would be seeing a lot more of. He went to get up, but someone stopped him.

“You wait here with your friend. Someone’s coming to get you.”

So he waited.

After a few minutes of waiting in a nearly empty bus, a short pale woman with dyed red hair arrived. She was dressed in a black dress, and a good portion of her visible skin was dotted with tattoos. She gave Dhariya and Dolores a smile before waving them off the bus.

“I’m Maeve. I’m going to be your interviewer.” She smiled widely, letting them follow after her into the school. She led them to a room that looked an awful lot like an interrogation room from one of those police shows. Dhariya sat down in a chair, Dolores next to them.

“So, just a few simple questions and then we can get started on your tour.” Maeve shuffled a stack of papers that was on the table, a useless gesture since she quickly set them aside. Then, she fixed them with a deadly stare. Dhariya felt something cold settle over her mind, like a blanket of ice.

“Do you and have you ever had any affiliation with the MNTF or any similar anti-mutant groups?”

The ice blanket seemed to squeeze her brain, only amplifying the pain from her headache. She felt a strange compulsion to tell the truth, which gave her a small sense of panic.

“No.”

Maeve smiled.

“Good, now, on to the next question.”

Buho

 

[.empathogen.]

C H A N G E

i'm cast away, but it's fate's hand and sword I carry to cut you down

break the void

shift it

the reflection shows too little fear

undefeated

— incubus

mood: thankful
location: Driveway/ Garage Area
interactions: Nat, Andrew, and company

scroll

As soon as he reached the Institute, Leander skidded to a stop, pulling "Queenie" to her side. He might have messed her up a little, but he didn't care now. He yanked off his helmet and threw it to the ground in pure anger. On his way there, he felt seven lights extinguish. Seven of his own, some he'd trained from when he'd first arrived at the Institute. They'd counted on him and the rest of the staff there to protect them and they failed.

"FUUUUUCKK!" he screamed from a guttural place within, trying his damnest not to crush everything in the area with the weight of his shame. He kicked the stand to his bike and got off, ignoring everyone who tried to get through to him and see what was wrong. He was not in the mood to do anything but break down and he'd do that in the privacy of his quarters, thank you very much. Nat attempted to get some info out of him, but he put up a literal barrier between him and her, to which she stopped and crumpled a little at his actions. He noticed a bunch of the staff looking at him, to whom he shot a glare that could rip the skin from flesh if it was able. They kept their distance. He walked forward, his gaze focused on counting every one of his steps.

"Hey."

He looked up and saw Andrew Solomon, the person he wanted to hate more than he hated himself right now. He could feel it right now--he could become Morgan in this very moment and make them all just stop thinking and breathing with just a thought. He'd failed his responsibilities and lost a considerable amount of charges in the process. What could this man, one of the reasons for all this death and destruction, possibly have to say to him now?

"It's not your fault. Not today."

Andrew stepped toward him, and Leander hesitated but stepped back. Andrew continued, quicker than Leander anticipated. The man had quite a grip of a hug--one that felt impossibly tight and warm.

"You risked everything to save me. I'm sure that came with some kind of cost. And, I'm ready to pay it back and more. I owe you and your associates my life, Mr. Cruz. I'm grateful, but you have to keep it together. Not for me, not just for them. You have to choose you, no matter what. I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna allow someone as brilliant as you to be snuffed out over someone as small as me."

Leander felt it rush over him, the sadness, the shame, and the relief: the relief that he, himself, had survived something like this once again. He held on to Andrew, then felt another person hug hum. Nat, then Maeve, Ms. Sparks, a few of the kids from the rally, and Kenny(even though they were still the vaguest of strangers). Some of the group stood back, respectfully. He appreciated that. He was already crying like a baby, but if more people were hugging him he'd be crying and uncomfortable.

'Yeah, thank the stars we're alive.' he thought as he cried on their shoulders.

© reveriee

 

[Simon Strut]

Alexander Blackthorne
The scenery blurred past. At some point, Leander had overtaken him, and Alexander fell back to cover the rear of the bus.

Alexander's mind raced. News of the rally had probably reached every ear on the planet by now. Andrew Solomon, shot, missing, presumed dead. This was not going to be a good look. They'd lost people today too. It was the biggest show of incompetence the Institute had ever produced. How many members would leave now, their confidence in Noah and Edith shattered? But the biggest question was, who was behind it all? The more he thought about it, the clearer it became. It wasn't the MNTF, he was almost entirely sure of it. The assassin was a mutant. The agents accompanying her bore no insignia on their uniforms. While they had some advanced technology, none of them had power-inhibitors. The MNTF, with their typical outfits and signature weapons, arrived later, responding to the trouble. So, who was the assassin, and who was she working for?

Finding out would have been a priority, of course, had Martha not been taken. The mystery would have to wait. He would set off to save her as soon as he was able, whether the others helped him or not. Well, hopefully, they would.

God, how did this day happen? They had lost so many. And the repercussions on the wider world... This might turn into Heartland 2.0.

'Arrogance is the mutant killer'.

Alexander could almost hear the voice in his head. Morgan was wrong about many things, but that wasn't one of them. They'd been arrogant. A second-class, hack of a mutant had caused all of this, and some of the strongest mutants had failed to stop her, in their complacency. Our complacency. Never again.

How many more times are you going to promise yourself that, Alexander?

Leander stormed off when they arrived back at the Institute. Alexander waited until the bus had parked up, making sure everyone was accounted for, then sped off the grounds. His bike didn't have much charge left so this excursion would be brief. But he needed to clear his head, or at least let his thoughts marinate until they all hit dead ends.

 

[Simon Strut]

Hileena Akhtar
It wasn't long since they got back to the Institute, when Hileena sat on a bench in the gardens and stared at the sky. As rooftop gardens went, this wasn't so bad.

She tried not to think. If she did, her thoughts would consume her. So she let her mind drift, like the clouds above. Like the leaves swishing in the wind. Like the bottle of whiskey, swinging limply between her two fingers. She had slept most of the journey back—using her powers so much had exhausted her—and her dreams had been empty, thankfully.

She leaned back, and listened to the sound of her breathing. She was alive. She was alive. She almost wanted to scream it. But the more she listened to her breathing, the more she thought of those who weren't breathing anymore. Their names and faces were so clear in their minds. Their smiles. Just a few hours ago they were just as real as she was. Just a few days ago, she was teaching them, laughing with them, feeling proud of them. Now they were gone. How can people so young go so soon? It was like they never existed, like none of it mattered. Was it the Institute that sentenced them to death? If they had never sought refuge here, would they still be alive today? Maybe they wouldn't be smiling, maybe they'd be miserable, maybe they'd be in an MNTF cage... But they'd be alive. That's better than dead.

Out of all of them, one name and one face hurt more than the rest. Sage.

She could almost see her, hiding among the bushes, cross-legged on the dirty ground. Hileena would scold her for getting mud on her new jeans and then smile as she pretended not to already know all the facts about plants that Sage listed off so eagerly.

Hileena took another sip from the whiskey bottle. Her face was going numb. She didn't feel the tears streaming down her face until formed a pool at her collarbone. Huh.

'This day has been a lesson'

That's what Edith said. That pompous, absorbed, self righteous, all-important bitch. It wasn't a lesson, it was a massacre. And it was her and Noah's fault more than anyone else's. Some of them were fighters, sure. But not everyone was. No matter how much training they all went through, they weren't born to fight. They were born to teach, to smile, to dream, to thrive.

She looked over the Institute. The whiskey wasn't burning her throat anymore. This was all a sham. All of it.

 

[Walliver]

Edith’s speech was the last straw.

As soon as the bus stopped and the staff ushered them off the bus, Lurch knew he had to get out of there. He needed somewhere peaceful, somewhere he could scream and claw at his arms, draw blood and make himself hurt until the world stopped feeling so suffocating. Today wasn’t a lesson, today was an accident. Today was the failure of multiple people, himself included. Why did he freeze? Why did he stop working? Why was he so messed up in the head?

He saw Alexander’s bike leave the Institute and took off after him.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to run for long. About half a mile away from the Institute, Alexander was pushing his bike. Probably ran out of gas or- Lurch looked at the bike again, seeing that the bike didn’t appear to be one powered by gasoline- battery charge. He looked to the other man, walking slowly beside him.

“Alexander.” Lurch spoke quietly. The other man jumped at the sound. Ah, perhaps his approach had not been as noticeable as he thought. Or maybe Lurch was just on edge and thought his own footsteps were comparable to the gunshots they had heard earlier. Lurch continued to speak.

“I’m sorry for…for freezing at the rally. I don’t mean to do it. I…I try not to, when I can.”

Lurch tried to breathe, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. The shutdown would have to wait until later. He needed to talk, he needed to be normal, dammit. He opened his eyes, finding Alexander looking at him.

“Sorry, again.”

Alexander sighed and looked away from him for a moment before looking back.

“Talk to me, tell me how you feel. Why do you freeze up?”

Lurch winced, rubbing a hand over his face. That was the problem, he couldn’t. Not without facing some amount of discomfort. Telling people was always difficult. Telling anyone anything about anything was difficult. He would just say it, just spit it out. Like ripping off a bandaid.

“It’s too loud. It just- it’s- if it gets too loud or too many things happen, it’s like my brain stops working and I can’t do anything.” Lurch spoke bitterly, hand balling into a fist. He punched the side of his leg, letting the slight sting center him, ground him again.

“I can’t- I’m not normal. I don’t know what defects I was born with and what came from my stupid father, but I know I won’t ever be normal. I won’t ever stop freezing when it gets hectic, I won’t ever stop flinching when people touch me, I won’t-”

Lurch tried to breathe again, inhaling through his nose.

“I’m autistic.” There. There it is. You’ve got it, he knows now. He knows.

Simon Strut

 

[Hvnny-Bvns0]

Styr exited the bus, looking around. His fellow residents and students all shuffled towards the Institute, and Styr did the same. Though he did so at a snail’s pace- keeping his eye out for one person in particular. Someone who Styr knew well enough to even slightly trust.

And, after looking for a little while, he lay eyes on that person: Thomas Reed.

Styr approached, tapping Thomas’s shoulder.

“Thomas,” Styr began. “How are you doing? With Sage. And all that.” He swallowed back a small sob.

Thomas looked away. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

Styr shifted his gaze as well, wetting his lips and giving a nod. “Yeah. I don’t know why I asked that.”

He really didn’t know why he asked it- he wouldn’t have been able to offer any assurance, had his question gotten an answer. He just figured he’d try. Be a good… boyfriend? And all that entailed.

He wasn’t quite sure what he and Thomas could be qualified as. It felt wrong to say they were dating right after Styr’s girlfriend got murdered. But this was the closest he’d been with anyone in multiple years, so maybe ‘best friend’ counted. No- Sage was Thomas’s best friend.

Emphasis on was.

Styr shivered. He shouldn’t be thinking like that. Sure, it was true- but that didn’t matter. He shouldn’t be thinking like that.

But he wasn’t sure what he should be thinking. What he should be doing. But, at that moment, what he needed to be doing was standing by Thomas. Styr felt like he could stand there forever- in silence, processing all that had just happened. Digesting it. Letting it fold over and over in his brain, Letting her blonde hair get stained red as she fell to the ground, body either stepped on or barely avoided by panicking bystanders. Memorizing the way it happened, and desensitizing himself to it. It’d be haunting Styr’s dreams either way.

Styr looked at Thomas once more. Thomas still hadn’t looked Styr’s way, still hadn’t said a word- though he still hadn’t walked off.

Styr slid a small step closer, just enough to be sure that Thomas wouldn’t drop dead by any masked MNTF assassin. The three people Styr was closest to had already been killed by the Task Force- he wouldn’t let Thomas be the fourth.

Styr looked ahead once more, watching as Leander was enveloped in a hug by staff, residents, and students alike.

Styr had never gotten that comfort- not even when he yelled louder than Leander. But Thomas’s silence, Thomas’s lack of movement- Thomas himself. Thomas wasn’t leaving Styr right now. And maybe that’s all he could ask for.

Walliver

 

[Simon Strut]

Alexander Blackthorne
Alexander smiled. He flipped out the kickstand on his bike so he could lean against it, then motioned for Lurch to do the same. He didn't look at Lurch, just stared at the point where the tops of the trees met the sky.

"How did you think I'd react to hearing that?"

"Badly." A one word response. Alexander expected nothing less.

He nodded. "Why?" Prying further might not be the best idea, but he wanted Lurch to voice his thoughts.

"I… Don’t know. Everyone reacts badly. It’s what I expect.” Lurch shuffled his feet.

"Yeah... Autism and the mutant gene. A cocktail, I'd imagine, that people would be afraid of. But fear is what often leads to hate." He turned to Lurch. The other man didn't meet his gaze. "Tell me, Lurch. Do I look afraid?

"It’s not fear that I worry about..." Lurch paused. "It’s pity."

The words cut deep. Alexander furrowed his brow and went back to looking at the trees. It wasn't the first time he'd heard something like that. Alexander promised himself, he wouldn't let himself grow too close to anyone again. Not after Callum. Not until he'd completed his quest. Not until the MNTF was dust, written about in history books as a mistake. But... Lurch needed to hear this, no matter how afraid Alexander was of saying it.

"I watch you, sometimes, you know." This time, it was Alexander that couldn't meet Lurch's gaze. "You are a complex man. You're interesting. You care, in your own way, so fiercely for others that you're afraid your mere presence will offend them. So you lurk, you try to make yourself less imposing. You skitter around and keep your head down and try to go unnoticed, because you feel like you don't belong; like you shouldn't belong." He paused a moment, hesitated. Should he say it? Was it fair, on both of them? The words escaped his lips before he had any more time to doubt them: "The only thing I feel for you is admiration, Lurch, not pity."

The trees grew quiet. As did Lurch. Now that he had said it out aloud, now that it was in the open, it felt more real. It had been a long time since he felt like this. But, now that he'd said it, the dominoes were falling, and there wasn't much he could do to stop them.

"Michael was autistic, you know." Alexander crossed his arms. A lump formed in his throat. "I never speak about my personal life at the Institute. It's a... Sore topic. Michael was my brother, my best friend, ride-or-die. We learned how to ride bikes together." He slapped the side of his bike. "He saved up two years' wages to buy this for me, the first decent electric motorcycle in Britain."

Now Alexander shuffled his feet, drawing patterns in the dirt. At this point, he was just spewing out his thoughts, laying them bare for Lurch to witness. "I'm not like some of the other professors at the Institute. I'm certainly nothing like Professor Akhtar. They're here because they want to teach, to take care of younger mutants, help them prosper. I'm more like you residents, I'm just here because it feels like the only place in the world where I'm safe. I belong. We both do.

"Michael... Michael was killed by Morgan Haywood. The Celestial Mentalist that mentored Professor Cruz some time ago. A part of me went missing that day. But I'm glad that, even though I mourn in silence, I'm surrounded by people I adore. I have a feeling you refuse to see it. We all like you, Lurch. Even though you try your best to make us not like you. My parents would love you." He nudged him gently with his elbow. "You should meet them sometime."

The silence was palpable. Alexander decided to take it as a good sign. He grabbed his bike and began wheeling it back in the direction of the Institute.

"Come on, then."

Walliver

 

[Walliver]

I belong. We both do.

It was comparable to being punched in the chest. The breath whooshed out of Lurch’s lungs, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t respond, just listening to Alexander. The other man’s voice was soothing. It seemed like pain wasn’t the only thing that could ground him. He listened attentively, absorbing every word that fell from his lips. He opened his eyes after a moment, turning his eyes towards the trees that Alexander was staring at.

He flinched at being nudged. His nerves were still frayed and the touch was most definitely not welcome. He shivered for a moment, shaking out his hands to get rid of the sensation- like bugs crawling on his skin. And then they were turning back toward the Institute. Lurch felt anxious. The suffocating feeling would still be there. The Institute would still feel cramped and far too small for comfort.

“I don’t want to go back.” Lurch blurted out. “You can- you don’t have to stay, that’s not what I’m saying just…I can’t go back right now.”

“We could go somewhere else. The path’s too steep to walk, so Syfa would have to carry us up there.”

Lurch bristled at the idea of being touched, even if by a sort of incorporeal shadow. But if it meant he didn’t have to go back to the Institute…well he would gladly accept.

“Alright. Let’s go then.”

Simon Strut

 

[Simon Strut]

Alexander Blackthorne
Leaving the bike behind, Lurch followed Alexander through a barely visible path in the woods. It was a lot darker amongst the foliage, shimmers of sunlight barely dancing through the leaves. A part of him wanted to take Lurch by the hand, but that certainly wasn't a good idea. It wasn't like the man needed help navigating around the twisted roots either, he was quite adept at it. Alexander wondered how many times he'd escaped to the woods in the past.

"Here." They arrived at a small clearing, with a steep climb up sheer rock. He had more than enough rock-climbing experience, with his multiple excursions into ancient underground tombs and ruins, but he didn't have any of his equipment. Maybe next time.

Smoke leaked out of Alexander's side and Syfa slowly materialised. Alexander made sure to have as much control over her as possible, so she wouldn't make any sudden movements.

"You've met her before. Syfa, Lurch. Lurch, Syfa."

They both stayed silent.

"Can you feel that?" Alexander asked. Syfa had placed a hand around his waist, her elongated fingers easily wrapping around him, claws retracted. Lurch shook his head, but still cringed. "Good. I'll try to make this as quick as possible."

Syfa was everything Daven was not. The original Shadow could barely touch a brick wall without shattering it, while Syfa could steal all the feathers off a bird's wing without it noticing. She wrapped her other hand around Alexander and the three of them floated up to the top of the cliff. Once there, Alexander sat down on the edge, his legs kicking in the air, while Lurch's stayed firmly planted on the ground. Syfa hovered a few feet away, almost melting away in the shadows beneath a tree.

They could almost see the Institute from here. Edith's illusions were powerful: they were close enough that they could almost make out the shapes of each individual building but far enough that the forms shimmered and blurred. Another mile away and it'd be invisible altogether. Alexander watched as the sun set behind the mountains, spying a glance at Lurch every few seconds. The sky was set ablaze, fiery pinks and purples ever so slowly fading to black. It reminded him of Martha.

He sighed.

And then the sun was gone, the sky plunged into darkness.

"I come here quite often," he said. "I've tried to jump off a few times. Daven always stops me." As if on cue, the hulking Shadow rose from the ground near Alexander. "He leaves me with a couple bruises for good measure, then Syfa comes out, screaming her head off, and the pair of them scrap for a bit. Seven out of ten times, Syfa wins." At this point, he was just rambling, but it felt good to talk. He'd kept the Shadows a secret for so long, it was like a breath of fresh air to openly discuss them. And Lurch seemed to enjoy listening. "I used to hate them, you know, but I've come to, well, appreciate them at least. Somewhat." Daven kneeled before him. He was certainly the easier of the two to control. Alexander studied his near-featureless face. There was a sentience about this creature, whether malevolent or not, and enough intelligence to know when its master was displeased with it. Almost like a pet. "They've gotten me out of a few pickles I wouldn't otherwise have survived. And I get the feeling that each new Shadow is stronger than the last. The fourth one is definitely going to be something to behold... But hopefully I won't get to see it in this lifetime."

He noticed the look of confusion on Lurch's face.

"Oh, yeah. There was a third, at one point. It was destroyed. Yeah, I know right? Not as indestructible as they seem, but it's a pretty long story, and it's gotten dark. We should get back." He stood up and dusted off his trousers, recalling both Shadows.

His mind was burning to say more. There was so much he wanted to tell Lurch. But it wouldn't be fair. He couldn't speak for Lurch, but Alexander was nowhere near ready to attempt to take things further. Whatever further meant. Still, warm feelings came rushing in, and he let a tid-bit slip.

"We can watch the sunset more often, if you'd like. I certainly appreciate your company." Maybe next time Lurch can be the one tittering way like an old ninny. He smiled at the thought.

Walliver

 

[Walliver]

“Do you…did you…uh…”

Thomas struggled with the words for a moment. Not a lot you can say to someone who was friends with your now dead best friend. Well, there was a lot, just all pointless stuff, like “I’m sorry for your loss,” or “my condolences.” All stupid, pointless stuff. Words did nothing to grief, nothing to pain, nothing to loss. Words meant nothing in the face of death, of heartache.

“Do you want to go somewhere? Hang out in my room so we don’t have to see or hear anyone?” Thomas offered, finally looking towards Styr. The other teen seemed rattled, just as much as Thomas was. And Thomas’s room had long since been soundproofed. Crying through all hours of the night because he could hear creaking floorboards and the endless hum of machines was a problem- the staff solved it by soundproofing his room and providing him with endless earplugs and headphones.

“We don’t have to talk. Just…I don’t want to hear anyone talk about how sorry they are, it makes me want to vomit.”

Styr was free to reject his offer, Thomas wouldn’t mind. Well, he would, since Styr was his last connection to Sage and he needed Sage and he needed to keep her alive oh no she’s not alive she’s dead dead dead dead-

Thomas closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. What he needed was to stay calm. Right, calm. And with Styr, that’s where he needed to be.

Hvnny-Bvns0

 

[Hvnny-Bvns0]

“Do you want to go somewhere? Hang out in my room so we don’t have to see or hear anyone?”

Before Thomas had even gotten a chance to explain the offer, the word “yes” was rolling off of Styr’s tongue. He’d rather be anywhere but right there.

Styr roughly pulled on the frayed sleeves of his sweater, grounding himself. He could feel himself slipping through the floor, stumbling forward as he attempted to walk further into the Institute and get to Thomas’s room.

Eventually, Styr got ahold of himself. They followed Thomas to his room, not saying anything. As soon as the door was shut, Styr began to ramble, pacing around the room.

“That- oh, shit. Okay. Dude. That was crazy. I mean- who even- that was insane. I wish I could’ve gotten my hands on that assassin… I’d be better than Leander or Noah at taking care of them.” He looked to Thomas, eyes brimming with tears. “They didn’t do anything to stop it. They’re supposed to be staff!” Styr continued to pace, flapping his hands. “And S-Tiers. My power betrayed me at that rally- I’m supposed to be the one always singled out! Yet it was Sage! Hileena loves Sage, yet I don’t see her doing anything right now! And Edith, she’s running the place! But all she’s good for is keeping up the illusion that we don’t exist. I wish we didn’t exist. I wish Edith had put her energy into making sure we didn’t fucking die, instead of- I dunno- driving the bus!? Or whatever she did!?” Styr was yelling at this point. “At this point, they should all just admit that they’re doing nothing! Admit that they’re nothing! Admit that they’re no better at keeping us safe than the anti-mutant protesters themselves! I mean, they’re killing enough of us!”

Styr had a wild look in his eyes. He was having a manic episode- too far in to take a breath and calm down. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his thoughts were racing, being calm wasn’t an ability he possessed in that moment.