Fandom The Unbroken X-Men

[Arrt Saunders]

Aidan’s footsteps echoed loudly in the Danger Room, a tin-din of ringing metal. Marvelling at the cavernous nature of the basement, he walked towards the centre with up-fixed eyes. The ceiling was a glittering skyscrape of lights and colour: a hypnotic display of ever-changing colour.

How such an advanced structure could exist beneath the abandoned mansion and still remain undiscovered, unheard of by the peanut-crunching crowds clambering for the next sliver of delectable gossip for so longwas a mystery.

Aidan fancied it was magic. Or psionic energy. If this Charles Xavier could create an entire universe, an alternative reality for the survivors of catastrophe, a little cloak and dagger seemed like a walk in the park.

Looking towards the corner of the room he spotted Wolfey, leaning against the wall with his feline scowl in a similar, yet more battle-hardened, suit to Aidan, a yellow ‘X’ plastered across his stocky chest. It was the smell of cigar smoke that altered him to the older mutant’s presence. The grey mist hung in the air like a pungent cloud, whipping towards Aidan in swirling, curling, unfurling coils.

Batting at the air, afraid he would sputter into a coughing fit, it wasn’t long before he heard the doors slide open behind him.

‘And here comes the team,’ Aidan thought, wondering how everyone else was processing the overload of information dumped on their shoulders.

The first mutant to arrive was the green-skinned kid, a plated, armoured boy with an impressionable air. He looked the youngest, very young to Aidan anyway, a semblance of pre-pubescent youth to his face and figure. He was closely followed by Sparky, who had been the one to slam into Wolfey on the mansion grounds, electricity discharging from his hands.

At least he recognised their faces; though he worried how hard they could throw a punch.

“Welcome to the Danger Room!” he called to them.

 

[RingSlinger]

"Thanks!" Marty replied, before pulling a very brief, blink-and-you'll-miss-it face of disappointment in himself. Thanks? His answer could have been some form of greeting. It could have been simply the word Hi. Instead, he had to thank the other boy here, as if that boy was somehow in charge of this room, instead of simply the first of them to enter it. You're gonna have to do better. He mentally chided himself a final time. Arriving where Aidan now stood, this inner monologue finally ceased and he stood awkwardly for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels.

The boy took a short stiff breath. This was intended to clear his mind of the self-flagellation that came from what he perceived as a much bigger social blunder than anyone else.

"Hi" he spoke in a voice that was low, maybe a teeny bit quiet, and definitely just a little timid. "I'm Marty," he explained before thinking for a moment, "I guess if we're costumed up you can call me Siphon..."

It took him a moment to remember what came next, but the gears turned in his mind, everything clicked together, and he did finally extend a hand to Aidan. The thought that he'd have to do with for something close to a half-dozen people churned uncomfortably in his mind. Meeting this many people something he hadn't experienced for a great deal of time, and when he had been a younger kid with the Morlocks, a good deal of them had been likewise affected by physical non-passing mutations as well. He knew he was surrounded by mutants. He knew they were in the same group. But he also couldn't shake the notion that he was the scaly monster on what would otherwise be a team of beautiful young people. Except the gruff tiny man. The gruff tiny man looked like the business end of a used leather boot. Marty pondered his powers for a moment again.

He'd get through this. He'd meet all of these new mutants, and very likely he'd wind up with a handful of people he cared about. If Marty were to be confident in any of his abilities, it would be his ability to adapt and survive. It had served him extremely well up until this point, and he didn't foresee that changing any time soon.

 

[Its_Just_E]

Cedric wasn’t too far behind the green kid as they walked into the danger room. Both of their heads shot up though when they heard someone yell, “Hey! Welcome to the Danger Room!” Almost instinctively, the green kid shouted back, “thanks!” Cedric kind of stared at the two a minute, not really saying anything yet as his attention shifted to the giant metal room they were in. “What the hell is this place. I can feel all the electricity just coursing through this place. How are they able to hide just an enormous amount of power under an abandoned mansion?” Cedric thought to himself as he walked towards the two other boys who were now shaking hands it would seem.

Cedric approached them to stand tall next to the green kid. He recognized the other boy as Aiden, the one he meet outside next to Logan, the girl Erika, and a dead body. Nothing weird about that meeting like that right? Cedric looked over the other boy though. His green skin and scales were something he hadn’t seen before. He knew that mutations can sometimes be more physical, he had just never seen it up close like this. Cedric caught himself starring and immediately stretched his hand out. “What’s up? Name is Cedric, you can call me Discharge if you would like though. I introduced myself earlier to you out on the steps when I blasted into the giant cat looking guy.”

 

[Arrt Saunders]

Exclamation quickly turned to meekness and timidity, the voice of the green-skinned mutant, rocking nervously on his heels by Aidan’s hip, falling to a low cadence of trepidation. He was struck by the brevity of the kid’s gratuitous response, and an even briefer look of disappointment in his eyes that preceded his words. The change in his demeanour was sudden, like watching lively air rush out of a withering ballon. When he extended his hand, a gesture that seemed oddly timed and tinged with awkwardness, Aidan shook it.

The kid might have been young but he had one bloody strong grip - it was like shaking hands with a man twice or thrice his age. If Marty had enhanced strength fighting him hand-to-hand was going to be a nightmare. Provided the kid had the confidence to fight. Aidan bruised as easily as fresh fruit: he would be black-and-blue by the time he left the Danger Room if paired with Marty. He thanked his lucky stars he’d brought his jacket. The bristles on Aidan’s palms waved back and forth from the pressure and the apprehension, ready to release a chemical cocktail, if it weren’t for the thick padding of his gloves.

“Nice to meet you, kiddo,” Aidan smiled, releasing his hand and giving Marty’s hair an impromptu tussle instead. Despite his immediate train of thought leading him to think that the kid was scaled and barbed, his fingers rustled through hair and brushed skin. It was similar to the feel of polished leather. “Call me Aidan, or Amplicon. Aidan’s probably easiest to remember, but whichever takes your fancy.”

The appreciative look that shone in Marty’s eye reminded Aidan of an attentive puppy, an attention-seeking creature that you couldn’t help but shower in affection. Perhaps it was Aidan’s good nature, or his innate curiosity, or his willingness to socialise with an optimistic outlook, but he felt the kid needed a greater push than the others did. If the colour that rose to Marty’s cheeks was anything to go by at least.

“And, it’s nice to properly meet you too, Cedric,” Aidan said, offering his hand for Sparky to shake. He was still focusing on the electrical gauntlets as they shook hands. They were epically cool up close, ideal conduits for the mutant’s powers. Aidan couldn’t help but wonder whether a sleeker version could be crafted to channel his force-fields. Although, he was also half considered the brute impact they’d wreck on his body.

“As for this room, well, I’ve no idea what to make of it,” Aidan quickly said, rousing himself from his thoughts. “The cat-man you mentioned happens to be standing behind me but he’s said nothing since I came in. I suppose when everyone arrives, we’ll get a nice show!”

 

[RingSlinger]

Deep within, Marty had a very quick mental shudder at being called Kiddo. At sixteen years old, he couldn't have been more than a few years younger than the older boy Aidan. "Nice to meet you, Aidan," he said, without even a glimmer of the unpleasant emotion showing through in his voice. Did he look that young? Would he have to age himself up a little bit? The hair tussle had confirmed it. They were going to think of Marty as a baby. As a helpless little child. Oh no oh no oh no oh no his internal monologue began. If this team were to be so entirely worried about him, he reasoned, they wouldn't get anything done well. He was determined to prove that he was in fact going to be an equally contributing member of this team. From the layout of this room, and the fact that they had to suit up first, it seemed like this danger room was some sort of training arena. This was a perfect opportunity to demonstrate his worth to these other kids who, Marty quickly confirmed, were all at least a few years older than he was.

He had become incredibly good at knowing what his face emoted, and for fear of letting anyone know he was worried about his fit on the team, he maintained a doe-eyed, eager outward appearance. In reality, although the eagerness was quite genuine, he was now extremely worried about anyone feeling the need to look after, or take care of him. He had been relying on his own abilities to survive for quite some time, and he'd make it absolutely clear that even with a team behind him, he'd be an asset, not a burden.

Marty shifted his attention to Cedric now. Without thinking he took the other boy's hand, shaking it as well. "Marty" he said softly, with a smile that seemed much more genuine than it might have actually been. His eyes had lingered. Even if just for a moment. Is he staring because of how my skin looks the youngest of the three wondered, Or because he's worried about how young I appear. Within the confines of his mind he settle on Absolutely both reasons. "But if we're doing code names you can call me Siphon..."

He had been named Siphon by the Morlock who raised him. He had never quite understood it. He didn't take anyone's power away. He didn't drain anything from anyone. He merely copied. A somewhat cheaper version of an original power. He was like a copy machine you might find on sale. When he had asked the Morlock why she had chosen the name Siphon she explained that it was intimidating. It would help him scare people. That was something he had never really been interested in doing. The name, however, had stuck.

 

[A L M O S]

E R I C A ～ R Y K E R - G R E N V I L L E
- W A T C H T O W E R -

Erica had been sitting quietly in the dressing room. Her clothing now replaced by a simple set of combat gear. Combat boots, with steel tips for climbing. Gloves that gave her more grip than protection. A tight vest that had no places to catch, or be caught on. Her hair was not in a tight ponytail that stayed out of her face. Flexing her hands, the cloth stretched over her skin. The materials seemed to be very resilient in their design but had little, to no, padding in. In a way, it was perfect. It felt almost like wearing nothing at all. Taking a deep breath, she jumped up. Stretching for a few seconds, knowing that nothing was actually happening, she walked out towards the room. 'The Danger Room'? A bit on the nose, but seeing as this was once a school... perhaps subtlety was not the best course of action.

As she walked into the room she saw the boys standing close to each other, speaking. Squaring her shoulders, she readied a smile, before walking over to them. She looked towards Aiden, having nodded towards the rest of them, before speaking. "Hey. Sorry for keeping you. Was looking for armour... until I realised... well... you know." She waved both hands down her body as though showing off a feature in a new car. "What is the in here? I have no combat training because... well again." She patted her stomach for a moment, the sound seemed less skin on leather, and more someone patting a wall. " What about you guys?"

D r . L E V I N ～ M A C K I N L E Y
- B A N D A I D -

The others left the room, as Levin remained seated. The room became a bit quiet. Logan seemed to be 'running' the gig, or at least was in charge of controlling the youngens. Eric seemed to be the brains. He got up, took off his overcoat, before putting on his white medical coat. He then placed his over-coat over his arm, and then took his dark brown, leather, medical-bag into his left hand. He was not going to be fighting. He had taken oaths of peace, and would never intentionally harm anyone. And he was also not joining this thing as a soldier. The Logan guy seemed to want to run this as a boot camp, and Levin had no interest in that at all. He looked at Eric. "I suppose I will then be heading back to my setting up. Send any of them down to me if they need some TLC." He stepped further towards the doorway, before turning around again. "Also, I would like to speak to you later, if possible. I will be in my office for the remainder of the day. Whenever you have time." A small smile, and a nod before leaving.

A few moments later he passed the Danger Room, and poked his head in. "If you all need anything, anything at all - please do not hesitate to come to me. I offer discretion and professionality. Anything medical, or spiritual - I am trained either way. My door is always open." He looked to Logan. "You will show them where the Medical Bay is when they are done here?" He nodded, assuming that the other would have done that anyway. Taking another deep breath, he walked down the hallway - towards the elevator, before going down one level to his new domain, and continuing the stock taking and emergency prepping.

 

[Its_Just_E]

Cedric was standing around with the other two guys when the doors to the changing room opened up again and a girl came running out towards them. She started talking to the boys saying something about “sorry for being late…armor…something something…” Cedric got lost in thought as she pictured to her body up and down. She was cute for sure. Good body. Nice hair. Defiantly nice to have a girl in the group as it was beginning to look like it was just going to be guys in this whole mansion. She keep glancing over to Aiden every once in a while. Maybe because they had been caught up in the fighting outside or because they helped each other in killing the dude on the ground next to them. Who knows? As she finished talking, Cedric snapped out of whatever spell he was in and said, “Hey, I’m Cedric. We kind of meet earlier as I ran into Logan and found you and Aiden next to a dead body. You can call me by Cedric or Discharge. Whichever is better for ya.”

After shaking hands with the girl, Cedric turned to Marty and said, “Oh yeah Marty, wanted to ask. Why are you green? What do you do? By that, I mean what is your mutation? Why are you called Siphon?” Cedric started to bombard Marty with questions. In Cedric’s nature, when he is intrigued by something, his electricity coursing through him makes him kind of talk really fast and make some electricity leak out of him. It usually happens when he is working on some tech and he gets really into what he is doing.

 

[athereal]

A pair of pants that were snug but comfortable with trategic stitching and material that most would protect him. Boots that the pants could fit into flushly, with level running soles and toed by a metal that Davin could not recognize. A thick belt with a thicker buckle, all made of the same metal. Those things barely mattered to Dav, as he flowed into the room where his peers stood in conversation. It was the calf length leather trench coat that seemed to billow a bit as he levitated. It was too heavy for him to wear a shirt beneath it--which he preferred not to anyway-- and the bold X's on the shoulders were sure to get him spotted. But, as he wore the article of clothing, he felt that he could take on any enemy that saw him.

"Sorry for taking so long...I had a discussion with Mr. Logan. He might be mad at me, I wonder why?" He looked at his teammates, all dressed in their own variation of their colors. Yellow seemed to be the theme, like a thread that bound them all together. Davin began pulling his hair backward, into alow ponytail. "Erica, do you have a spare hair tie?" he asked, his feet finally touching the ground for the first time since he entered the Danger Room.
--
"Welcome to South African Airlines, How can I help you?"

"One ticket to Manhattan, please."

 

[RingSlinger]

Marty surveyed Erica as she approached. Part of him had hoped deep down that maybe another kid around his age might be joining them. This hope seemed, however, misplaced. She at least seemed friendly. Based on this, as well as her behavior in the room before, she seemed to be fairly candid with her opinions in a way that Marty certainly appreciated. He generally liked when people simply spoke their mind. There were exceptions to that generality however, as indicated by the sudden and unavoidable flush of dark green his cheeks experienced at Cedric's bold line of questioning.

Why are you green. The youngest member of the team blinked hard a few times in rapid succession before drawing his eyes to the floor, as one hand fairly awkwardly clasped the other. He opened his mouth to speak as the other questions continued to rain down upon him.

You're spiraling he told himself mentally. This happened sometimes. He was fairly easy to overwhelm. In the past it might have shown a little bit more in terms of his visible breathing. His heart rate, which had spiked for a moment, slowed, as his hands unclasped. His shoulders, which had narrowed for a short while, straightened. Physically seemed almost to ball up for a moment before experiencing a deep breath and a mental reset before putting on an extremely convincing smile. This was extremely brief, and not super obvious. His reactions were all fairly subtle.

"My mutation is power replication... I have to see a power and understand how it works... It doesn't really work on mental powers... since I can't see those... I can only hold a couple of powers at once, and they're never quite as strong as the original mutant who used them..." he took another soft inhale, followed by a slow exhale. His breathing was all but normal again. "I can mimic powers and appearances... which allows for some very specific shape-shifting... and just like powers, I can combine appearances..."

"Siphon is actually sort of a misnomer... It implies that my copying a power takes it away from the original mutant somehow... it doesn't... it's replication only... I guess... the name is supposed to be a little... intimidating? I didn't choose it..."

He took one final deep breath before addressing the first question.

"I don't know why I'm green. Some mutations have outward manifestations with regard to skin tone. Mine gave me green skin and some scale plating... if it makes you uncomfortable I can put on a more traditionally human looking form..."

 

[Its_Just_E]

Cedric listened to Marty’s answers. When he finally finished, Cedric started talking again, “Dude, you can copy other powers and have more than one? That’s awesome! Can you hold as many as you want?” Cedric was more intrigued now by the powers this kid had. Plus he could shapeshift? I bet that would come in handy for sure with missions of stealth.

Cedric continued on, “Why would you want to put on something else that isn’t who you are? I am not uncomfortable with how you look. Just intrigued is all. We are all mutants, no sense in not being true to yourself. How else are we supposed to build trust in our new little group, right?” Cedric looked at the young kid and smiled, trying his best to seem friendly.

 

[Arrt Saunders]

“Welcome to the mysterious Danger Room, Miss Watchtower,” Aidan chuckled, offering Erica a warm and genuine smile as she patted her tummy. The drumming of her knuckles on the material of her uniform produced a deep, strong sound, a reminder of Erica’s impressive resistance to damage. Aidan was still awestruck by her sheer pluckiness - he knew very few mutants who had the ability or confidence to step in front of an earthen missile. She was a fortress, although she was a bastion that could smile and laugh. He liked her humour, valued her support even more.

While listening intently to Sparky and Marty’s rally, Aidan briefly glanced at the group of mutants gathered in the Danger Room. Watchtower. Siphon. Discharge. A psychic yet to arrive. Wolfey in the background, the good doctor downstairs and the older gentleman unstairs. It was a ragtag conglomeration of unorganised individuals. None of them had any control of their meeting. There was something greater at work, something bigger than them pulling the strings - now, it was solely a matter of working together.

“Cedric’s right, you know. Your powers are pretty damn cool,” Aidan said, glancing at the double doors, which he thought were starting to open, before turning his merry gaze to Marty. The youngest teammate had been opening and closing his mouth in response to Cedric’s interrogative onslaught, a somewhat nervous flavour to his movements. His timid composure soon returned however, but Aidan got a general sense that the boy was anxious.

“You should be proud of your mutation. It affects us all differently, but it is no reason to hide,” Aidan explained. His hypocrisy was not lost on him: he clenched and unclenched his fists as he spoke. He knew wasn’t the right time. “Besides, green is your colour, kiddo. It suits yo... is he not wearing a shirt...?”

 

[RingSlinger]

"Mmm," Marty nodded, "I max out around four... and it usually helps if they're different sorts of powers... Right now I have a pretty simply kinetic energy release, a shielding power, and a healing ability... I leave the fourth slot open if I can... just in case I find something I absolutely need..."

"Oh I don't know," he said softly, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "Sometimes it just makes things easier to look... mm... normal..." He internally winced once more at the word Kiddo but once again didn't demonstrate this negative feeling in the slightest. He had pulled his smile back on, and that's where it would stay. "Sometimes it's easier to hide," he said in a fairly soft, muted manner. "Thanks... It's nice to know I don't have to pretend around you guys..."

Marty had been told by a handful of mutants that he ought to be proud of his mutation. It was interesting. Certainly it was well-intentioned every time. Generally it was advice that he ought to feel good about himself. But he wondered if people understood the difference between a practical reality that he was received differently by most humans and some mutants. Perhaps it was true that he shouldn't have to feel scared about being himself, but he did, and a lot of that came from his life experience.

"Well... I suppose I could be just about any color if I..."

his words trailed off as Davin approached the small gathering of mutants.

"Are you alright? Did he do anything else to you?" the younger mutant looked at his friend, the boy he had felt the closest to as of yet, as he cast a fairly angry look towards where Logan was. A lot of the tension that he felt from his last interaction had seemed to wash away as Davin entered their company.

 

[athereal]

"I'm fine," Davin said as he finished tying his hair back. He stepped forward, flexing his arms to get better adjusted to to wearing a full outfit again.

"You know, I can't believe we are actually going to become X-men. I used to watch them all the time on the television. Me and my cousin used to talk to each other using telepathy and she always told me I could be like her someday."

Wait.

Did that happen?

I don't have a cousin... Do I?"

A light fixture in the control room next to the one he stood in exploded, followed by a string of swearing from both of their mentors.

"My bad! I frickin' suck at controlling my powers when I'm emotionally distressed or confused," he yelled out rather candidly. Turning his attention back toward his peers, he smiled as if that shouldn't have been scary. "I like Erica's powers. She can see anything she wants to... Go anywhere she wants to." His mind went to the place where he was kept so long... Why was he kept there again?

"But, then again, Marty is like Rogue. I always liked Rogue. I even grew my hair out so I could look like her."

 

[A L M O S]

E R I C A ～ R Y K E R - G R E N V I L L E
- W A T C H T O W E R -

Erica smiled at them all talking. Then she looked at Davin. "Hey now, I hear powerful psychics have similar abilities. I am sure you are no slouch either. Bad control and all." She laughed lightly, walking over to him and giving him a spare hairband. "I would like to talk to you after this, if I can..." She looked around, a small frown developing on her brow. "While all this 'subtly and referred histories of lost realities' might sound cool, I have never been a fan of an obfuscated truth. I want to know what you know. Broken up and incomplete as it may be." She stood calmly for a moment. Then looked him in the eye. "The idea of a 'team' sounds fun. Team building. Playing hero. And if I did accept it in some other world, there must have been a reason. A good one. One that I have not really seen yet here. I am a free bird. I don't take orders. I don't follow them. I don't submit. I don't entertain fools." Her eyes narrowed. "These others-" She waved her hand towards them where they stood. Three children... at the brink of maturity. At the precipice of responsibility. Now suddenly asked to carry the weight of not only this world... but also that of another world, one which had died.

"I like them. I am happy to be their friend. I am happy to protect them. It is clear they know almost nothing, and even if they did - their input would be paltry at best in what you imagine your mission is. I have seen children conscripted into wars before. I can see it in your eyes. The eyes of that man over there-" She looked to Logan. "I saw it in the eyes of Eric. I see it in yours as well." She raised herself up a bit more, squaring her shoulders. "It is clear that we are expected to 'just' agree to this. And for now, I will play my part." She looked over towards Aiden, Cedric and Marty. "The reality of what this is might not have caught up with them yet. Even with Logan's words... this whole thing seems more like Bandcamp than boot camp. Your sources are not validated, and I know enough about indoctrination to know when people are presenting points of view - extreme ones such as these - with the intent to control. To insist inevitability. To assuage the questioning of rank." She stepped forward, her voice dropping an octave. "If I feel like you are bullshitting us, I leave. If I feel you are manipulating us, I leave. If I feel you are placing us in danger without our explicit consent... I leave. If any of them come to believe that this is not for them, and that they want to follow another path... I will help them leave. I don't care how much you might feel like 'the greater good' supercedes our wishes. If you cannot convince us that our presence is critical, and we wish to rescind the offer of our help - you will not keep us here. Understood?" She stood back, and took a deep breath.

"I am not saying this because I hate you. At the moment I have almost no impression of you. But it is clear you are part of the inner circle. And until I am sure I am as well... you represent an implied cage. And I would rather bleed out against the bars, than spend a moment of peace cooped up." She turned back to the group. "Sorry about that. I thought it best to get everything out in the open. Just so we know where we stand." She walked over to Marty. "So ocular based, adaptive, physiological imitation? That is amazing. Do you think seeing me not breaking would be enough to imitate my ability?" She smiled, before seeing him looking a bit uncomfortable. "Also, ignore them if it makes you feel better. We all have our own ways of hiding. With our silence. Our speech. Our friends... There are worse things to hide than skin colour. And there are far worse things to feel ashamed about. Often the things we are the most ashamed about, are the things unfoundedly shameful." She gave him a small smile. "But like most of these things, a few words don't resolve them. Encouragement can feel like bullying. And often, in trying to force a change, you undermine yourself and your skills far more than simply... changing your skin, or pretending you are strong." A deep breath, looking around the room. "Do what makes you feel comfortable. Know that we don't care here. Your skin does not offend us. Even if it did, we would be in the wrong. Knowing this might not take away the belief or suspicion that it does. If you don't want to be in this form now... then don't feel pressured to. Let us earn your trust. Let us earn your friendship. You don't have to make yourself uncomfortable so that we might feel good about how tolerant we are." She nodded towards him, hoping that she came across as earnest. Then she shot a look towards the other two, trying to read their reactions.

D r . L E V I N ～ M A C K I N L E Y
- B A N D A I D -

Levin stood quietly for a few moments, before placing down his journal. It was filled with anatomical studies of non-standard body-types. A few years ago this would have been the kind of work developed to justify oppression. Now he was doing it to develop non-traditional surgical methods to help with mutations which primarily affect the physiology. It was not unusual to have a crying teenage mutant stumble into his E.R. in the middle of the night, having been beaten up to a pulp. It was even more common to see that they had only singular mutations. Unlike the rather benevolent ones such as he himself seemed to have, some had rather 'monstrous' traits. Fangs, horns, wings... his heart ached for them.

As a medical professional he knew that human physiology varied far more than most would ever admit. And even in that comparatively limited spectrum humanity has found ways to hate, extensively, for hundreds of years. What chance did these have? These mutant children, who are part of a race already seen as an invasive force. Who had not the powers to defend themselves, like their more powerful kin. It was inevitable that the frustrations that come from feeling powerless against those like Eric, would spill out as hate against those who carry the same label, and none of the firepower. Dr. Levin sighed, before starting back on his work. He would offer them reprieve... in whatever limited way he could, he would help.

 

[Its_Just_E]

Cedric stood very still, listening to Erica go on her “rant” it would seem. She defiantly spoke her mind whenever she felt like it. It was like she was laying down the rules or something of that nature. She was both looking out for us and calling us immature. How does one really process that? After she was done with Davin, she walked back to the small group and went right to Marty to address the whole, “hiding your true self thing” Aiden and Cedric went over with him.

Cedric understood the girl’s intentions but damn, she didn’t need to act like our mom. We have survived this long in this world, I am sure we can still take care of ourselves. Well, Cedric shouldn’t speak for the other boys but he could definitely take care of himself if he got into a sticky situation. Once Erica was finished talking with Marty, her field of vision had now shifted to Cedric and Aiden. Cedric was frozen. He didn’t know how to respond to the girl or deal with her at the moment.

He did the best thing he could think of. He put his hands behind his head, shifted his heels so that he was facing another direction, and started whistling away.

 

[RingSlinger]

Marty blinked hard for a moment as he took in all of the words. As she spoke to Davin, Marty found himself torn. He felt kinship with Davin, but nothing she said was incorrect. He found himself nodding with her points. If she had been aggressive with his friend, he might have been upset, but everything she said seemed to have been reasonably thought-out. He paused as she walked closer to the group, freezing for a moment. Literally the last thing that he wanted was to receive some sort of reprimand from this young woman.

And then she complimented his abilities and he found himself beaming. "Hmmm," he considered her question for a moment, "I don't think so. I struggle with non-visual passive abilities. So even seeing you take a massive hit without taking damage wouldn't register as watching a power happen I don't think..."

He continued to consider this as she continued to speak. Her words hit him like a semi-truck. He had been presented with a great deal of information that he had quite literally never once considered before this moment. "I... uhm...I don't feel bullied," he lied for a moment, before furling his brow and pausing once more to think. "I uh... I don't mind looking like this right now... If we're going to be learning how to fight it probably makes sense... keeping another shape up takes stamina and some of my focus..." He nodded as she continued. "I don't want to ignore them... I don't really want to ignore any of you... but it's also..." he paused, unsure of how much he was allowed to disagree with Erica before she might get mad at him. "I just don't want to make anyone uncomfortable... I think that's alright? Sometimes it's easier for me to be uncomfortable than for everybody else to... "

He cocked his head to the side as she finished speaking. "My friendship? I'm not..." he blinked again, looking up at her, "I don't tend to think anyone has to earn my friendship." His hands dropped to his sides, attempting to slide into pockets that were not in fact on his uniform. The result was an extremely awkward movement that involved his hands sliding down nothing, landing uncomfortably at his sides. His cheeks flushed again. He wondered if anyone had caught this odd motion. Instinctively, his hands retreated to his lower back, clasping behind him, as he found himself awkwardly rocking once more on his heels.

 

[athereal]

Erica's words reached a place in Davin that he admittedly did not want to go. There was a darkness within him, a shadowing guilt that he could not shake for anything in the world. Indeed he was a part of an inner circle, a piece to a puzzle he could not see just yet. There were things that... Eluded him. Parts of his mind that had been tapered off by something he could not understand. He wanted all the answers, because whatever he could not remember was slowly eating away at him--long before any of them had met.

She was right--they were caged and he was a key. The only way for any of them to freely be their best was to know exactly what his part was in this world.

As she expressed the need for them to be accepting of one another with no hesitation a smile crept onto his face. A true one. She reminded him of someone he felt knew. Someone who's only intolerance was toward the injustice of anyone. He could follow someone like that, to the ends of the earth. There was no denying that he envied that... But he also respected it. And when Marty spoke, it triggered something within him--the need to do better, be better, than he ever could be. For them... All of them. Even those who weren't here yet. Regardless of himself, their was something bigger than just himself that he was fighting for. And battles could be won with more than fists.

'She's absolutely right... You both are. Thank you.' he thought to both Erica and Marty, 'There is a reason I don't feel like I'm completely here. Why I'm looked at by our mentors with such... Loathing. I want to know why. But... I can't do this all alone... Not again.'

Davin exhaled, the tension in his chest lightening slightly at the acknowledgement of it' s existence. He was broken, but he could be fixed. They could be fixed and then they could be unbreakable.

"Attention!" a gruff voice interjected via intercom, "If you'd turn your rather short attentions toward the far end of the room, you'll notice the 'dummies' we've set up for you to practice on."

On cue, the light on the other end of the room shifted, fractal shafts of light forming curves and ridges... Into reflected versions of themselves. Right down to the eyelashes and toenails.

" You'll have plenty of time to study a specific fighting skill as we go on, but for now we will start with simple striking and defensive maneuvers. We'll work in reps of 3 practice moves and then 3 demonstration moves, so that you understand what's happening. The practice dummies are specialized not to hurt you, but to push you to your limits. So, as soon as everyone is ready, we can begin."

After a minute of processing what was just said, Davin nodded and flew over to where his" match" was.

"After what we just went through, it'd be nice to be able to protect ourselves even a little bit." He started forward at his reflection, looking into his own blank eyes with a gaze that had been lit on fire by words of wisdom and compassion--and understanding.

 

[Arrt Saunders]

Aidan stayed silent as Erica spoke, witnessing the strength of her argument crack the happy facade of her teammates. Her words hit Aidan hard too. A heart of stone, buried beneath thick skin, would have been required to not surrender to her rhetoric. In the cold air of the Danger Room, a cold shiver ran up Aidan’s spine as he thought once more about his parents and his friends.

Was a message enough? Had he done the right thing? It was one thing to consider the possibility of not returning home for dinner, simply apologise and make amends the next day; it was much more thought-provoking, and emotionally harrowing, to consider never returning at all. There was a finality associated with death that suddenly seemed a little too real.

The neural cogs inside Aidan’s brain whizzed and gurred. He agreed with Erica. They knew too little: anyone with a hint of self-preservation would have abandoned the abandoned mansion and its abandoned morals in a heartbeat; instead, Aidan was dressed in a blue-black uniform, staring down a combative reflection of himself. He started to think he was going insane. Perhaps something inside his head had actually snapped when the storm had torn the sky asunder. He would have to speak to Dr. Levin before the day ended.

Erica, standing a little to his left, was an extraordinarily wise woman. In order to think so rationally, with such clarity and vision, Aidan took a guess that her powers allowed her to expand her knowledge exponentially. She had seen a lot of the world. Beneath all the gusto, Aidan also noted the her protective nature shining through. She was a brave fortress and an intelligent keep.

He couldn’t help feel a little saddened by such a thought, however: innocence and youth were often crushed by the reality of living if experienced too quickly; wisdom doesn’t come without a price or age.

A single gear turned slightly differently to the rest in his head. Aidan knew that he remembered things he couldn’t understand, felt things he couldn’t explain. He had been drawn to the mansion by more than just his sense of curiosity. Everyone in the room had been summoned by a force, a tie that bound them and ensnared their destinies without their authority. His autonomy was slowly slipping away, the rug of free-will and choice pulled out from beneath his feet in the same way the good doctor would remove a plaster. Whether he decided to stay or leave, Aidan had a niggling feeling that escaping whatever was about to happen was impossible.

Whatever lives they led in the old world had followed their consciousnesses into the next - he couldn’t cheat fate.

Taking a deep breath, he stood in front of his training dummy. He had never raised a fist to anyone, nor did he want to raise a fist in a fight... but, he didn’t have a choice.

Erica was right.

Not in what she had just said but what she had said at the very beginning.

They didn’t have much of a choice at that time.

 

[Its_Just_E]

As Cedric was walking around and whistling, an announcement came over the room. As he listened, he focused his direction to the other side of the room where he saw himself and the others in what looked like hologram forms. As the announcement finished, we are supposedly supposed to fight our “twin” and show some of our strength.

Cedric starred for a minute before watching both Davin and Aiden walk to their dummies and stand in front of them. Seeing as they probably had the right idea and the room was still a little tense from Erica’s speech, Cedric wandered over to his dummy as well. As he stood in front of himself, he started to feel, nervous. As far as fighting goes, he hadn’t really done much. Sure thugs would try and mug him on his way home from the pawn shops but they were easy to take care of as all Cedric had to do was discharge some electricity when they touched him. The only real fight he has been in was the one outside the mansion when he turned himself in a lightning bullet and slammed into what the others called Sabertooth, but he really didn’t fight.

Cedric had no idea how far he could take his powers as he has never had to push himself that far. He had a few tricks that he knew here and there but no combat experience at all. Maybe this will be good for him.

Intertwining his fingers, he stretched them outward and cracked them. Throwing his next side to side as well then looking straight at the dummy clone. He activated his gauntlets and electricity started to pour out of him as he got more excited. “Alright, let’s see what I can do,” said Cedric as a small smile formed on his mouth.

 

[Arrt Saunders]

Aidan tipped the wooden swing backwards so that the dew-pearls rolled onto the weathered tarmac. The little spheres ran their own race where the winner was the first droplet to explode on the cracked earth, through which spokes of grass sprouted defiantly. Righting the swing, he slowly settled onto the seat. Years before, the swing set would have undoubtedly been the royal throne of kings and queens; now, it creaked and groaned and moaned in its dotage, ensnared in tendrils of ivy that forced the abdication of regality.

The tail of Aidan’s jacket protected him against the dampness which had seeped into the wood overnight; his fingers however were not so lucky, blanched by the coldness of the metal chains around which he coiled his hands. Ignoring the icy nip in the air, he lolled his body towards the mansion and lifted his feet off the floor. Kicking his legs, he started to swing higher and higher.

The sun had only begun to peek above the horizon when Aidan had woken, painting the sky a rosy scarlet and warm tangerine despite the chilliness of the northern wind. He had always been an early riser. His circadian rhythms dictated that he was a lark rather than an owl. He would wake without exception at sunrise, or just before the first rays of gold pierced the darkness - much to the annoyance of his work-battered parents when Aidan was an energetic and affectionate child, constantly rousing his weary guardians from their slumber at the oddest of hours.

He remembered reading once that walking before daybreak was a good habit, a quirk that contributed to good health. Aidan hadn’t the foggiest idea whether the notion carried any sense. There was a very good chance that the argument didn’t actually hold water: the early bird may indeed get the early worm, but only if the worm doesn’t decide to sleep in.

His parents always seemed to take the side of the bed-happy worm. Aidan didn’t blame them, nor the worm - he would do the same if rising early carried the risk of being eaten.

That said, he enjoyed being able to escape the confines of the mansion every morning. After his first day, where he had been beaten black-and-blue by his own reflection and the swatting hand of an agitated Logan cursing under his breath, Aidan had gladly retired to his assigned room. Wolfey, derogating Aidan’s hand-to-hand ineptitude even in a new reality, had placed him in a large room with Cedric. He later discovered - thanks to the inebriating effects a whole bottle of whiskey and a half-bottle of bourbon had on the inhibitions of Logan Howlett - that Sparky had been his roommate before time-space had been folded back upon itself by the mysterious Charles Xavier.

Cedric was a decent chap. He was talkative, happy-go-lucky and always had a devil-may-care attitude that Aidan found very easy to engage with. Sharing a room with him also meant that Aidan got a chance to check out Sparky’s incredible gauntlets. On the second night, Aidan waited until he had left to get some food before sneaking to Sparky’s side of the bedroom, where he had constructed a make-shift workbench for his gizmos and whatnots, and lifted the gauntlets into his arms. The metal gloves were much heavier than he had expected, crackling with an energetic static that arched from circuit to circuit, wire to wire and switch to switch. Aidan, although he knew nothing of technology and engineering, could tell the gauntlets were made with precision and care. They were mechanical works of art: Sparky’s magnum opus. He put them back quickly, hoping that one day his gloves would look as cool as those to match his new uniform.

Just maybe a little thinner.

And one hell of a lot lighter.

A sudden burst of cold air reminded Aidan that he was not wearing his own gloves. The bristles on his palms snaked between the rusty metal links, standing on end. He hadn’t shown anyone the mutational change yet. He didn’t think there was any reason to broadcast his primary power. Eric had insisted that they master their powers, to the best of their abilities in the short timeframe available to them, and force-fields seemed a little more pressing than a bit of hormonal adjustment. Aidan knew he’d let the others know when the timing was right.

He had wanted to tell Marty but stopped himself. Living with the kid had shown Aidan that the young mutant was particularly self-conscious. The green-skinned boy, who had been surviving alone in the mansion for some time, was always prepared to change for someone: change his skin, change his appearance, change his answers, change his feelings. He was young and society had been cruel and relentless. Aidan couldn’t blame the kid for feeling the way he did. Instead, he tried to make Marty feel as comfortable as he could.

It was perhaps the first time the kid had friends upon which he could depend - friends to whom he could talk.

Aidan had great time for Erica. Having been Wolfey’s proteges in a world they didn’t know had existed their friendship quickly developed. Aidan brought a lightheartedness to Erica’s forbearance, whilst Erica steeled Aidan’s humour with a serious wisdom.

Then there was Davin.

Davin was an enigma, a conundrum that Aidan’s curiosity wanted to crack: he was amiable yet solitary as an oyster; fun yet tough as a grindstone; as candid as he was reserved; and as mysterious as he was understood.

There was still a lot to learn at the X-Mansion. It was one of the reasons Aidan stuck around.

Slowing his motion with the heels of his boots, Aidan pulled his gloves out of his coat pockets. The sun was starting to fill the sky with fire. It wouldn't be long before the rest of the household dragged themselves out of bed. Hopping from the swing, he decided to spend some time in the gardens before venturing back to the mansion for whatever hare-brained exercise Wolfey concocted in the Danger Room.

 

[A L M O S]

E R I C A ～ R Y K E R - G R E N V I L L E
- W A T C H T O W E R -

Erica's life had changed extensively over her stay at the Mansion. She had taken to the task like she did with most things. Extensive research. First-hand observation. Planning a comprehensive set order of operations. Fulfilling those tasks without fail. Her first day had gone much as she expected it to go. She had hit the dummy. It made no movement of its own. She was hit by the dummy, and she was pushed to the side, unharmed. It took her a few more hits before she started thinking. Stopping in the middle of combat, ignoring the others around her, ignoring the grunts of Logan that she should get her ass back in gear. Her eyes closed, and she was in her happy place. Away from the noise of the world, where she could formulate her thoughts clearly and directly.

She was the rock. The invincible stone. Most martial arts first insisted that she 'harden' her body. That she build up stamina. The former was not needed. She latter was rendered mostly academic. Most of the 'resilience and energy' that came from fighters was the ability to overcome pain. When there was no pain to overcome, combat became less about managing energy - and more about balancing an equation. A target being larger and more powerful than she meant evading and having them wear themselves out. A slower target could be taken out quickly. She could hit as hard as she wanted because her hands and arms would not break, or give. No single fighting style made sense. She then left the danger room, and sat outside - cross-legged, closed her eyes. And began to plan.

That was a while ago. Now she had her own room. Bed removed long ago. Desk to the side. Protective covering over the floor. And one wall covered in notes, labels, pinned pages and red thread. Long lines were drawn vertically along the wall at even spaces - 24 in total, signifying each of the time zones. In it, she had notes of various agencies, schools, organisations, military bases, military leaders, famed warriors and weapons of mass destruction - all in their appropriate time zones and countries. She had images of the faces of the presidents of all UN-recognised countries, and all those that were not. Defence secretaries, spies, counter-terrorist cells and intelligence agencies. When she was not in the danger room she was in here, planning, learning, and becoming aware.

She knew Logan and Eric had the experience. They had the history. They had the confidence. And all those gave them an advantage over her. It made whatever they said more valuable. More believable. More mature. If she wanted to assert herself as more than just a pawn, then she needed to work for it. Every fifteen minutes her watch beeped. Every fifteen minutes she had an appointment.

Some were local. Training in the danger room. Dinner with the others. Sleep time.

Most were not. Tai Chi at the Yuntai Shaolin Academy in China, chosen as a way to understand the movements of the opponent, and adapt that of herself accordingly. The fact that she could not be harmed, however, meant she could use her body as a release of energy. Simply directing it away does not use it. She needed to tire out her enemies. Moving further east some of her classes were at the Central Aikido Dojo in Tokyo, where she learned how to lock weaker opponents, and 'take hits' with grace. Staying in Japan she attended classes in Hapkido as well, focussing on its pressure point exploitation. All of these were good at keeping her out of the hands of the enemy and having them tire themselves out in trying to harm her. In order to make sure she could actually hit back, she attended boxing classes at Gleason's in New-York, and Capoeira in Brazil - mixing the evasion moves with more fluid styles of offence. That was during the day.

At night, when her body was resting, she had further classes to attend. In China, she 'sat in' on Data Collection and Deep Analysis course provided by the MSS, the state security of China. While there she also caught up and refined her Mandarin Chinese. Then she moved over to Europe - and the middle east. Taking classes in Krav Magra at the IDF, she also sat in on 'advanced interrogation' sessions within Mossad. Then it was off to Britain, where she sat in at the GCHQ - a training facility of MI6 focussing on counter-terrorism. Finally, she returned to America. She was at every morning briefing in the Oval Office, and often in Langly for stress and focus training.

The worst part of all this was probably trying to keep it all from the rest of the team. They did not need all this. She could focus on this herself. So at night, she did martial poses behind closed doors. Kept notes on her classes in her mind. And tried to smile at their jokes without thinking about the ways she had seen a man waterboarded not a few hours before.

It was the caring and authenticity of Aiden's concern and cheer that kept her sane. The bickering between them all as they tried to become more comfortable with each other. Davin still remained at arm's length. Sometimes she felt like he might know what she was doing. Sometimes she wondered if she cared. If he knew, he had not yet said anything. He seemed caring towards the others. She had not yet given him the chance to be so towards her. That was fine for now.

As for Eric and Logan - they were aware. She spoke to them every night. About everything. News. Reports. Mutant uprisings. Mutant assassinations. Laws protecting or undermining both sides. She wanted to know what was being planned. When it was being planned, and how it was going to be sold to the team. No bullshit. At all. That was the plan. That was the promise. It would be kept.

D r . L E V I N ～ M A C K I N L E Y
- B A N D A I D -
(I will write something for Levin later - tired now. He was just around. Helping.)

 

[athereal]

Time lurched forward at the pace of lifetimes to Grey as the week went by. Fighting was no issue at all, at least basics-wise. He'd taken to living with the others as well as he could. The smiles and wonder were a true concept, but that was an air of forced behavior if someone glanced at his actions in the right light. He opted to dorm alone. Piecing things together took a lot of more effort than he imagined. He often found himself being misdirected by things. It felt as if something was behind all of this, blocking him from seeing the entire picture.

They directed him to Erica, who was pushing herself by doing so many tasks at once. The things one could do when the world's their front door was astounding. He was surprised she didn't feel him whenever he hitched a ride on her thought train. Tai Chi became a budding pastime for him. It helped him focus a little better, regardless of the fact that he knew he shouldn't be poking around in the mind of his friend.

It also directed him to a woman, a blonde attractive lady with cold features, in an even colder and barren loft office. Sometimes she spoke English, sometimes she spoke different languages that were more guttural then the last. He'd began picking up on the speech, which turned out to be mostly Bantu or Russian, respectively. Occasionally, there would be Korean. But, every time she would begin speaking to a Gene, the same pushing force would pull him back in.

His dreams were even affected. The most recurring one was a young brunette girl in the middle of a road. A ball would roll past a '78 Oldsmobile as her blood pooled away from her body in blossoms. He'd run out and try to help her, but as soon as he would touch her skin, it would disintegrate under his fingertips. From behind him, a blazing light would erupt, blinding him so hard he'd wake up with the words "This is your fault," burned into his psyche.

He didn't know whether or not he should tell someone something. He couldn't speak to the older team members about it, which now included Ororo after some delicate persuading of Logan and Erik's truths. It'd only enrage one and silence the other. The best way to process his damning thoughts was to get a third party perspective and speak to his confidants. The question was would he be alright with the consequences?

He stood outside Erica's room, his hand raised in a fist. Timidly, he rapped on the wood and waited for a response.

 

[Its_Just_E]

Most of Cedric’s time was spent down in the sub levels. That was where all the high tech gadgets were. He felt more, relaxed and focused when he could work on things and this place offered up so much in the tech world that he only hoped he would see. He needed the escaped. Needed to lose his mind in something else other than combat training. Especially after that first day…

Cedric didn’t think of himself as some, top tier fighter that wouldn’t ever lose in a fight, but he did figure with his power set, it wouldn’t be too hard to stop an enemy. Boy was he wrong. That first day in the danger room against his dummy counterpart was horrible. Cedric never knew what it felt like to get hit by his own electricity. He could absorb other electricity sure but never his own. He never expected to be hurt by his own powers either. As soon as Logan said we could start, Cedric shot himself backward to create distance. The dummy just stayed still though. Taking the opportunity, Cedric charged up a huge electric ball in between his hands. Once it got to the size of a basketball, he launched it at the dummy. With the dummy not moving, it took the blast head on. Cedric turned to face Logan with a cocky smile on his face.

Next thing Cedric knew, he was on the floor, on the other side of the danger room. He was in so much pain. The dummy apparently fired the same blast back at him but with more electricity and power behind it. Cedric had never felt pain like this before. He spent the whole rest of the day with the new doctor.

The rest of the week was just as rough. Cedric was having a rough time with hand to hand combat. His power set always made sense to keep a distance from any opponent, not get up in there face. Logan said this was important though as smart enemies will not let Cedric get distance from them.

After each danger room session, Cedric would go to the tech lab to tinker. It helped him to relax after the frustrating days. He wanted to get his gauntlets to work a bit better to. They were on the more heavy side sometimes and he could definitely make them lighter with this type of tech around.

Everyone had their own way of dealing with the week. Everyone started to grow closer together it felt like. Cedric was roomed with Aiden and thought he was a good fellow. He was always asking about the gauntlets though. He never said why though. Davin was still being confusing at times but more or less, was cool. We never saw much of Erica at night. She always seemed to just, disappear. Maybe she has her own way of relaxing.

 

[RingSlinger]

"Kid, you know what a swiss army knife is?"

"Sorta?"

"It's a utility piece. It does a lot of things. Doesn't necessarily do any of those things well, but it doesn't have to..."

"Oh..." Marty scrunched up his nose. It was green. He was green. He'd gotten much more used to existing in his natural skin in the tine that he had spent here in the mansion. He hadn't, however, ever gotten the feeling that he had any place there with his fellow students. To him they were titans. Older mutants with far greater control of their powers, only a few steps below the adults here who taught them. So he trained. He trained often, and to the vague concern of his new friends, he trained extremely hard.

"You can do something a swiss army knife can't do though," the gruff voice of the short, barrel-chested, feral-faced man before him growled.

"Make... uhm... delightful quips? Just like... just like really good one-liners that inspire the team to fight harder?"

The older of the two standing here in the Danger Room rolled his eyes. "You can combine your powers. Mash two abilities together."

"I uh... I don't know that I can actually do that..."

"Well lets keep trying to find out."

Wolverine had been pushing him to develop his abilities. Marty had, until this point, not been successful in putting two abilities together. He could access them simultaneously. He could produce a shield and heal at the same time, but he couldn't heal that shield. Wolverine was convinced that this young boy was a modular piece, and he made no secret of this. Marty's job, he would learn, was to set his team-mates up for success. His job was to meld himself into something of use to them. Wolverine was convinced that Marty, exposed to videos of the X-men in action, would be able to absorb powers over that medium. Marty had not successfully pulled this off. Once he could, Logan had reasoned, he could fill in whatever gaps there might be on an out-going team, regardless of who was on that team.

Marty collapsed into a heap onto his bed. The bathroom in this room, which he still had all to himself, was steamed up entirely. His training with Logan had left him drenched in sweat, and the time he had taken was much more time than what was necessary to become fresh and clean in the shower. His nicks and cuts knit themselves back together here under the hot water, and the small pool of red-tinted water at his feet drained away and ran clear and the small room filled with steam.
He lay there in bed. Still moist from the shower. Now he simply had to decide what to do with the rest of his day. He could do something in the garden. He had, in recent days, taken to lying out on the roof. These were all fairly isolated options. He could almost hear Aiden's voice in his head, friendly, but with weight, about needing to step outside of isolation. Maybe getting out into the world a little bit. And if not that big, maybe just interacting with the other young X-men.

Slowly he got dressed, taking a soft sigh before lacing up his boots. He walked carefully out of his room and towards the door of the mansion. Maybe he'd take a stroll.
The young man stopped at the door. Pink or green. The question kicked him in the gut and he found himself frozen there in the doorway to the mansion.

 

[athereal]

"Ms. Summers, we have used every effort to keep Madam Maximoff at bay. Sedation, meditation, even hypnosis. She still remains a threat to the generous Enlightenment..."

The woman, an attendant at the Grace Church Foundation, tried to keep her composure as she lead her guest into the bowels of the church. Since their organization had been absorbed into the Enlightenment philanthropic efforts had immensely increased. They were doing good work, God's work. But she could tell from looking into this woman's eyes that she did not believe any of this--in their cause or a higher power.

Jean smoothly shifted her sunglasses down on her head, the top of which had been barbered slightly so that she may fit in with society. She may have looked normal, she may have been acting "normal", but something was off, broken about her.

The two looked on toward the gurney where their charge slept in peace. Jean frowned. She didn't want to have to do any of this...But she didn't want to die again either. She was honestly sick of dying. It was like sitting through a bad batch of reruns. Eventually, you just wanna turn the tv off. She stepped forward, a platinum metal tiara in her grasp. "If you would give us a moment..." Jean asked, with the attendant immediately complying and leaving the room.

"Wanda..." she cooed both telepathically and aloud, "We both know you're awake. I know what you want."

The even breathing stayed the same for two more breaths but was followed with a sigh.

"Honestly, Can you believe him though? Acting just honkey-dory about the world being ripped a new one." A pair of smooth skinned legs swung over the side of the table and as she sat up, a shift of energy colored the tiara Jean held a deep, rich red.

"Welcome back, Red," Wanda purred, her accent smoothly rolling off her tongue. "Before we go, may I suggest we take him?" Wanda cocked her head at the metal door to her left, which hummed with electric energy. "He's pretty pissed off and would do anything to get that blue-skinned bitch back. And, if I recall correctly-and I do recall correctly--he'd make an excellent 'getaway driver'." she added, with air quotations.

Jean rolled her eyes, lifted her hand and her power, ripping the metal apart in a rather raw manner.

"Come on out, Kurt."

It didn't take long for him to tentatively step out, his ocher eyes filled with both fear and wrath.
--

"Don't worry, You're new but you're not reaaally new, ya know." Kitty held the girl's hand as they passed right through the large oak doors and into the xMansion. "Hello? Logan? Mags?" She called out, dropping the girl's duffle bag at her side. "Is anyone in this dump?"