---

The world has changed...

18 months ago a large mutant attack was waged against the UN Headquarters after it was rumored that they may be testing a new, more lethal, variety of sentinels.

When the news leaked many of the younger X-Men were eager to strike to prevent the sentinels from seeing the light of day. Professor Xavier disapproved of this, and forbid any X-Men from participating in any kind of organized strike, though many of the younger mutants completely disobeyed this, launching an offensive against the UN Headquarters to destroy the Sentinels. What they didn't know, however, was that the brotherhood organized a strike at the same time, targeting the Residency for many of the prominent UN Delegates.

The X-Men were able to successfully destroy the Sentinels, though they were caught on camera doing so. However, the brotherhood was also successful, assassinating several key members of the UN, as well as guests to the UN including the President of the United States, the Queen of England, the Prime Minister of Germany, as well as multiple other delegates and heads of state.

In the aftermath of the attacks, there was absolute chaos. Fingers were pointed in every direction imaginable, until footage of the X-Men breaking into the UN Headquarters surfaced, and all of those fingers pointed directly to Xavier Mansion. Swiftly, and with the support of nearly the entire UN, Marshall Law was declared in the United States, and the army was deployed to Xavier Mansion, demanding the immediate surrender of Xavier, and attempting to arrest all of the X-Men caught on tape.

When the arrests took place, many of the prominent X-Men were away from the mansion on other business, leaving the mansion terribly undefended. With the new Sentinels that survived the attack on the UN, these new Sentinels able to absorb mutant abilities, as well as temporarily disable telepaths through this ability. Though Xavier attempted to negotiate with the army officials, some of the younger X-Men attempted to push the troops back, sparking a firefight in which many of the prominent X-Men were presumed dead, and the mansion itslef destroyed. The current presumed KIA list includes:
Jean Grey
Storm
Colossus
Iceman
Professor Xavier
Mystique
Scarlet Witch
Gambit
Jubilee

After the attacks, the remaining X-Men either dispersed, or went underground together. Beast retired, deciding to go into politics in a desperate attempt to find some sympathy in the law for mutants. Wolverine walked away from the team entirely, going somewhere into the Middle East, and, in a surprising twist, Magneto - overcome by guilt for the brotherhood's part in causing Charles' death- opted to lead the remaining band of X-Men, deemed Team X.

Using an abandoned S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, lost when the agency had to cut its resources back following the Hydra Reveal, Magneto has begun building a team of mutants that can help them regain their strength. While he and the other popular mutants cannot venture out into the outside world much, due to the prevalence of cameras that use facial recognition for known criminals, terrorists, and X-Men, these mutants can. The mutant Caliban has been working alongside Kurt Wagoner, Nightcrawler, to find and bring new mutants to the bunker.

Scott Summers tried to stay with the remaining X-Men, but training, and being around their old friends always reminded him of his dead wife and unborn child, and he eventually left, moving to the Gulf of Mexico to drink his life away.

Erik Lehnsherr looked older than he ever had in his life. His once blonde hair was running more grey than blonde, and his eyes were sunken in, though not lacking in the passion that they had always held during his many years. He rested a hand on Havok's shoulder, turning to look the younger, clearly grieving mutant in the eyes and giving him a reassuring smile that could have been meant to help either of them,

"The new recruits will get here safely Alex.. it'll be alright."

Havok pursed his lips "It's not really that I'm worried about sir.. I'm just still struggling to get on without Scott here. How are you? You haven't seemed to take it as hard as the rest of us."

The older man gave a sad smile at Havok before turning his eyes towards the incoming transport that should be carrying some of the recruits,

"I'm a holocaust survivor Alex... I saw my parents and everyone I loved gassed at a young age. I mourn Charles more than anyone in this room will ever know, as I do Raven, but I understand the greater purpose."

As his statement finished, the ramp on the transport that was carrying the mutants to the training facility. The bunker itself was large enough to necessitate these. The mutants would have been recruited by Kurt, before being teleported to a holding area in the bunker, to be then transported via large hovering personnel carriers.

It was just a normal Thursday afternoon.

She was walking around her section in the restaurant she worked at, dealing with the public. She loved and hated the job. She made decent money every night, but she hated being treated like a dog, being groped and flirted with, and especially being stiffed.

While in the side room, the room where the servers go to curl in the fetal position and cry about their lives, she noticed brief movement. Curious as all hell, a trait that usually placed her in trouble, she followed the motions outside in the alleyway.

"Must have been one of the line cooks going for a smoke. Figures, with a packed restaurant." Before she could walk back in, a man stood in front of her and blocked her entrance. Normally she would have dealt with him, but he was different. His blue skin was evident and he gave her a smile. "Hello Ms. Davis. My name is Kurt, but I believe you may know me as Nightcrawler. I need your help."

Stunned into silence, Rowen merely looked the man up and down. She heard the name before, how could she not? The news was lavished with pictures, articles, words detailing the X-Men, a group of mutants teaming up to help the planet that hates them. She took special interest in their developments, being a mutant herself. She wanted to be brave like them, to stare adversity in the face and go out and help others despite receiving little to no thanks.

But she couldn't bring herself to. She stood up to bullies through school, got in fights, slapped a few guys who got fresh with her, but she could never go back to that night in college. The riot that formed, chanting her name and other things. Freak. Diseased. Mutant. Among other colorful terminology.

She didn't want to go back to that. But here stood a well-known mutant, asking for her help.

He continued to smile, "I know, it's a lot to take in. But we need you and your gifts. The world needs your gifts. Please?"

For a brief instance, Rowen just wanted to run away, to turn around and forget this blue man ever came into her life. But she knew better. She heard the news. She knew what happened. She mourned in her own way to a man she never met before, but who she felt she knew personally. She nodded at the man, "All right...let me get my section covered. Kurt shook his head, "We don't have much time. Plus, you may not be needing your job after you hear what I have to say."



She has never been teleported before, but she felt sick to her stomach afterwards. She listened to what the man had to say, she took it all in. He allowed her a few minutes to gather her thoughts, but time was of the essence. She didn't know why, but she felt compelled to go with him. And sure enough. Here she was, in front a large carrier about to be whisked away to be trained like the X-Men before her.

Just what had she gotten herself into?

As light peeked through a growing crack in the wall, a pair of eyelids lifted to reveal shocking green eyes, bleary from sleep, and surveying their surroundings with growing urgency. What's going on here?! Ronan was understandably freaked. Waking up in what now appeared to be an aircraft, while locked in "safety" restraints, was not exactly Ronan's idea of a good time. The crack, which was now obviously the ramp to the aircraft's entrance, continued to widen, and Ronan's eyes were adjusting to the different light level of the hangar bay it was opening into. He could make out the blurred outline of two person's heads cast against a grayish metal wall and floor. Others bustled about behind them, some traveling quickly through the enclosure, while others were simply walking. Ronan saw one figure swoop rapidly through the air and — wait... swoop? — and had to shake his head for a moment, thinking himself still asleep. Just where am I?! Ronan thought, starting to settle into hyperventilation. I have to leave. I can't be here! He was realizing just what he had seen swoop by, and his brain was not at all ready to come to terms with it. As he checked his surroundings, he saw several more people in the seats around him — some wearing more restraints than others — and immediately began racking his brain for the memories of how he came to be on this ship, surrounded by these ahh... particular individuals.

Flashback —

The catacombs of France, also known as the Zimbayas, are not known for their hospitable, family-friendly atmosphere. They are filthy, with their condition taking after that of the time period of their birth. They are some of the most cramped and awful spaces you could imagine fitting into. To put it mildly, a claustrophobic individual would have a panic attack considering the modern doorway to the hellish tunnels. Last, but certainly not least, they are filled with bones... yeah. All things considered, this was not exactly the place one would expect to find the mildly depressed, and heavily anxious, Ronan Carlisle. Despite all this, there he was, observing with great interest what is affectionately referred to as the Crypt of the Sepulchral Lamp. The skulls packed into the bone walls were all grinning stupidly at the spectators, obviously pleased with their condition. Ronan, despite all odds, was having the time of his life. The sickening architectural design here, while just that, is truly inspired. He thought in a moment of unusual morbidity. He snapped a quick picture of the lamp in the head of the room, and turned to walk back the way he came, reaching out the feathered stick in his left hand in order to ensure he didn't lose his place. Few people were willing to go in here at all, and those that did were careful not to stray far from the known rooms and exits. To do such a thing was equivalent to intentionally losing oneself in the mythical Labyrinth of Daedalus.

Ronan kept the feathered tip of the stick held to the left wall, never allowing it to leave the surface, as he navigated the tunnels. He could hear the echoing footsteps of people ahead and behind him, and could smell the dank and moist air that was a constant companion in these halls. As he walked along, he heard a strange puff of air, and smelled the faint tinge of sulfur in the air. He covered his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, and continued on, before hearing the sound again. As exploration-bound as he was, Ronan knew when he was getting bad vibes, and he knew it was never just a feeling — at least not for him. He turned around, switching the hand he held the stick him, and keeping it trained on the same wall. He kept smelling the slight waft of burning brimstone as he walked back through the tunnels, and picked up his pace a bit, pushing by people in a rather rude manner when the tunnels became more narrow. After a few minutes of jogging, he ducked into a well-lit room to catch his breath, and turned to face the wall. There was a plaque detailing the room's usage, and telling of how the Nazis had created an underground bunker in this room, which laid beneath the Lycée Montaigne. It was really fascinating. As he turned back towards the entrance, Ronan clearly saw a blue puff of smoke, followed by the emergence of a blue — yes, blue — figure, sporting a tail and patterned skin. A small part of Ronan was wondering what the patterns were, but that part was dominated by the more significant yell that was exuding from his mouth.

The figure leapt forward, his three-fingered hand reaching up to cover Ronan's mouth. Ronan thrashed wildly at the man's arms, attempting to wrench his grip off of him, while ceasing the screaming the man obviously objected to. Ronan fell backwards, the creature before him releasing him readily, and Ronan began to breathe quickly. "W-who are you?! What are you doing here?!" Ronan sputtered as he scrambled to his feet, his eyes flicking back and forth between the exit, and the man's old-fashioned attire. "Rest assured, I mean you no harm. I am on a mission of peace. I was sent to recruit you to our cause, as a fellow mutant, with the hope that we would be able to train you to more fully understand your mutation, and someday, utilize it to help others."

One could have detected the sound of a pin hitting the floor as Ronan let that sink in. One part of him was concerned with the heavy German brogue, while the rest was busy attempting to comprehend the man's statement. "W-what do you mean mutation?" He asked hurriedly. "I've no idea what you are talking about! Now I really have to go." With that, Ronan walked quickly for the archway, but found a very blue man soon blocking his path. "I must insist, please, that you come with me." He said, reaching his three-fingered hand out — yup, still three fingers — to rest on Ronan's shoulder. Ronan felt a panic attack coming, and threw the man's hand aside, rushing for the exit now. Another puff of smoke popped up and he found the man in front of him once again. "Please, don't make this harder than it needs to be." He said, but Ronan was already acting. He ran right into the man, bowling him over from the unexpected actions, and continued on, running back down the way he knew the tunnels led, uncaring of the stick he left behind in the room. He heard, rather than saw, another puff of smoke, and once again ran into the man, with very different results this time. He felt like he hit a brick wall, and the man's arms locked around his torso. "I am sorry about this." Ronan felt something coming, and closed his eyes as he heard something akin to a growing rush of air.

He opened his eyes as it ended, and found they hadn't moved, but rather, the man no longer had him in his grip. After all, it would be rather difficult to hold onto someone when your arms had become rather unyielding sticks. He saw the man's expression turn into a stunned one, as he pushed past him and further down the tunnels, thinking he may be able to escape, and deciding to push aside thoughts of the man's stick arms for the time being. He ducked into a small, dark alcove, ignoring the spiders and other critters that roamed the small space. He held his breath and waited for a moment, hoping to see the man walk — or 'puff' — past him. After a few minute, he believed it was safe, and extricated himself from the cramped space, brushing off the dirt and grime. He began walking slowly back through the tunnels, just now beginning to contemplate the last ten minutes, before he heard a puff, and knew no more.

End Flashback —

Ronan's eyes widened as he remembered the events that transpired to ensure his arrival, and immediately felt himself descending into panic. By this time, the ramp had fallen, and he could see the men standing outside clearly. He just had time to realize that the older man was somewhat familiar when his restraints suddenly turned to clay, and Ronan stood up, attempting to reason with himself in order to make the best course of action — which on some level he realized involved doing nothing, as there was no real way for him to escape this — before he found himself unable to really truly do such a thing as reason, at a time like this. "W-where am I?"

Lamia was laying on the floor of the vehicle, trying her best to sleep when she felt it come to a stop. To say she was tired would be a gross understatement. She was exhausted, barely having the energy to do anything. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten and, like everything else to with her healing ability, it seemed like she couldn't starve to death. Sooner or later though the light headedness, weakness and shakiness would get to her and she'd end up eating something, and then she'd be forced to endure a lifetime of memories and sensations with every bite.
She'd been considering looking for a new "home" when the two had found her. She hadn't paid much attention to them beyond the fact that one was blue and the other was pale. They'd refused to shut up, talking about safe-havens, new starts, beginnings, training, education, understanding and all sorts of crap. She got the feeling the one with the German accent had rehearsed the speech. She'd considered slitting her throat and bleeding out just so she could get an hour of quiet, but she knew she needed to find a new place to be. The other squatters were starting to key in to what she was and what she could do. If they approached the crazy girl with the knife she'd stab the life out of herself, but she'd always seem fine a few days later. Some were starting to figure out that they could do anything to her if they waited until she'd bled out to do it. So it was time to go.

With that, she'd told the blue German to shut up and just take her there already. Then she stabbed herself in the neck, aiming for the carotid artery. By the time she came to, she was on the floor of the vehicle and she took it as an opportunity to just sleep. Listening to the sound of doors opening and nearby voices, Lamia kept her eyes closed and pretended to continue sleeping. She didn't really feel like dealing with more people right now.

Francis was stood in front of his mirror, changing his appearance between his human form, and his father's (his human father, not his birth father). He kept doing this for around 20 minutes, trying to change his height as well. Unfortunately, he was seemingly incapable of doing this, and he always turned out as a 6'4" version of his dad, which would fool nobody, seeing as his dad was actually 5'10". Francis decided to give up on changing his height, and resigned to his bed, shifting back into his human form. After some reading of a book, he heard a knock on his door. "Come in," he called, assuming it was one of his parents, or a sibling. However, when the door opened, it turned out not to be anyone in his family, but a blue skinned person, with only three fingers.

"Hello, Francis," the man said, walking into the room. Francis, however, sat there staring at the man, shocked, until he worked out who it was.

"Y-you're Nightcrawler!" he said in shock.

"Yes, and I need your help,"

"N-n-no, I can't help you," Francis stuttered, realising what this could be.

Nightcrawler walked up to Francis's bed, "I can help you, too,"

"No!" Francis shouted, jumping up off of his bed and running out of his room. As he got through the door to the landing, Nightcrawler appeared out of thin air, "What are you so scared of?" he asked, but Francis ignored him, running into his parents' bedroom and into their wardrobe, before turning invisible.

"You can't run away from me that easily," Francis heard from the corner. He looked up to see Nightcrawler in the top corner of the wardrobe. Francis shouted out in fear and shock, and due to this, and all of shifting earlier, he involuntarily shifted into his true, red form. "Was this your plan? Make me look like this so I realise what I am? I'm still not going to help him!" Francis shouted.

"What are you talking about? Who?" Nightcrawler asked, before sighing, "This'll be easier."

Suddenly, Nightcrawler jumped down and grabbed Francis, before teleporting them both to the bunker. Francis looked around, still on the ground, and still in his true form, and saw that there were other people around his age, who looked just as innocent. Perhaps this wasn't what he thought it was going to be, and perhaps it wasn't as bad, either.

The young boy hugged his mother close, the heart monitor just beeping away. She was sick, and he was scared. The doctors told him and his brothers to go see her, no one sure if she would make it. "Mom, I'm a freak. The world is going to hate me, treat me like a monster." The boy said as he held her hand. "What do I do?" He asked her.

"My little Justin, it's simple. You just keep smiling." His mother said, smiling at him. "You don't need the world, the world needs you. Just wait and see. One day, you will be big and strong, and the world will say, "Here he is, the one and only"

"JUSTIN "WILD HUNT" HUNTER!" The ring announcer said, as Justin made his way to the cage. The crowd was cheering, chanting his name. While these fights weren't allowed on tv, they could be found all over the Internet, and had its YouTube channel for fans to watch. He smiled as he got into the cage. Across from his stood a ugly SoB, whose ability was to shoot spikes from his body. Justin smiled he and the other guy knuckled bumped, the the bell rang. Justin smiled and ran towards the guy, teleporting all over the cage.

The fight ended after ten minutes or so. Justin won, barley, and was counting his winnings as an odd blue man walked towards him. "If you want an autograph...hell I got a minute to kill I guess." Justin said and grabbed a paper and pen. "Who do I make it out too?" He asked.

"Nightcrawler." The blue man said with a smile. Justin blinked a few times and looked at him. "Or Kurt. I'm a fan, have you seen you fight many times. But tell me, do you wanna stay here and fight for money, or something more?" He asked Justin, taking a seat. They spent an hour talking, with Kurt trying to convince him to join, since there was no point in trying to catch another teleporter. Justin, oddly, said no.

"Look, I don't play well with others. They get in the way, no one wants to listen to the leader, it's all a mess." He said, and Kurt nodded, giving him a paper "just in case". Kurt took the autograph and left. But the next three days were only slightly restful, as Justin thought more and more on the offer. Both of his brothers had joined the army, they were changing the world. Why shouldn't he? He packed his bags after making a farewell speech to his fans, and smiled at the "Thank You Justin" chant he got as he left. Maybe one day he will come back. But now, he kept smiling, on his way to the next adventure, ready to change the world.

Inside the bunker, Justin had his headphones in as he listened to "Fozzy", and saw Kurt appear with a red colored kid. The kid seemed surprised, and Justin gave a small wave and went back to his music.

It was during the last dash for her pilot's license when the whole mess happened. Dominique watched it in horror when the Sentinel Program was attacked by mutants. She was known for her little parlor trick and she was used to be seen as someone different, but the looks she got since then were unbearable. Good for her that she was not that much of a chatty person. She finished the license with ease.

She was looking for jobs for a good week now and the landlord was already at her back for two months worth of rental money. She did some quick "errand boy" jobs, delivering things here and there, but that only got her some food into the house.

The particular night she received a message, she was already packed and ready to go. With her backpack with pretty much all of her belongings (clothing, make-up and hair dye) in it, she made her way to the place outside of town. It was not looking too good of a building, having smashed windows and such, but the way the message was written she was offered something better than just a job. She would learn more about her powers. Of course this could only be some mutant guy that would need some secrecy.

Who she met in the old building surprised her, though. The blue skin and the tail threw her off. Nightcrawler was not one of the people she would have thought to meet this night. His offer was different than from the note, but it was even more interesting. She accepted, having nothing left to lose at the moment...

-Present moment-

She sat in the transporter, her feet tapping hastily. She had to ditch her powers after getting tired, so there was a pile of clothes on the seat next to her and sitting on top the backpack of hers that previously held the obviously larger portion of cloth. She was waiting for something to happen, looking at the people inside. She was not particularly fond of waiting, but sitting inside a transporter was not well known for being spacious and allowing people to move in freely. If only she were at the steering wheel, she would not be so irritated and nervous.

---

A pigeon sculled and shifted its wings outside the window next to Eliyah's bed. The man, one eye open, showed his frustration, deciding that the pigeon had over stayed its welcome. As he grunted and sat up, blankets falling from his bare chest, his alarm clock went off, doing it its job, as it always did. Without as much as glancing at it, his hand darted out, picking it up and reading himself to throw it at the window in spite of the damn air-breathing, rat with wings, bottom feeder. Hesitating though, he found himself unable to do it, in the end, the pigeon decided it was time to leave and flew away anyway.

Nah, I'll will need this tomorrow morning. he thought to himself despondently as he placed the alarm clock back on the desk.

Eliyah groaned as he laid back down, feeling the sunlight on his face. "Urrgh, it can't be morning already." he muttered. It felt like he'd only fallen asleep 10 minutes ago. Once he looked at his alarm clock though, he started to really contemplate his own maturity. He lay there, also contemplating whether to force himself up as his levels of consciousness slowly increased once again. Finally he threw back the covers and stood slouched beside the bed, his pyjama bottoms creased and hair in a frightful mess of lumps. "Looking good Eli." he said to himself as he shuffled past the mirror and yawned his way into the bathroom.

"I have to admit, your really not a morn…afternoon, I don't even know. Your not a waking up person, I guess." a disembodied voice admitted.

Every instinct in Eli's body warned him of danger, more and more, until he felt the cold gaze of a blue man with wings and a tail. Within a moments notice, Eli was ready to transform and fly the hell out of there.

"So…how can I help you?" Eli began, speaking carefully.

"We need your help, kinda need you to come with me." the man affirmed, scratching the back of his head with his freakish fingers.

Eli frowned, a blue man thing teleported into his house and wanted his help, da fuck did he think he was. With the shit storm going on outside about the X-Men, the last thing a Mutant wanted to do was go for a trip.

"Look, blue..thing man, I really can't, you know, stranger danger?" Eli said sarcastically before he ran at the man, ready to tackle him. Without any effort the man disappeared in a puff of blue smoke. Eli's momentum sent him canering into his bed. Using the mattress as a spring board, Eli propelled himself into his window, attempting to transform so he could take the impact and fly away. Unfortunately, Eli found himself on the floor in pain. He had failed to transform and instead…smashed headfirst into his window.

"Idiot." the man chuckled, laughing at Eli's failure before grabbing his foot and teleporting.

With a rush of air, Eli found himself shirtless on the concrete floor of some facility. Looking around frantically, he found that he wasn't alone.

"Oh sweet Jesus what did I get myself into..." Eli mumbled to himself, examining the others who seemed to be in same predicament. At least the girls were cute, maybe he would talk to one before he would be experimented on. "...and can I get a shirt!

He awoke with a gasp and sweating profusely from what he thought was a nightmare. His eyes wide in fear before settling into a thousand yard stare as he glanced over next to him, the uranium clear as day and out of the reactor's safety. Skeletons laid next to him and he screamed as he scrambled to the wall opposite of what can only be described as a radioactive elephant's foot. It took him a moment to fully grasp the situation and when he understood, he was shocked. "Shcho stalosya? Ni Neeet . Nemaye Boha nemaye." He clenched his teeth as he began to sob. He was there. He was there when it happened and he...

The sirens and alarms ringing in his ear as many were in a state of panic. "ZABYRAYSYA ZVIDSY!" VZYATY YIKH VZHE U PRODAZHU! He yelled as he ran down the halls of the control wing. Each door he stopped at, he would yank those still attempting to tame the untamable and forced them out. "REAKTORNOMU MAYE NAMIR PRYBYRAYTE KHVYLYNY!" He took a few turns down the hallway until he reached the reactor room itself. There were still workers risking their lives for the better of the plant and the people who worked there. YDY VZHE! He commanded. The technicians in their radiation suits turned to him in shock. "Sch-Shcho ty tut robysh!?" Michael shook his head and waved them off. "YA ryatuyu svoye zhyttya." He argued with the tech for some time before the last alarm sounded and it was the one they dreaded; imminent failure to the core. His eyes went wide and he screamed for them to run but-

"BOOM" "TSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH"

The reactor burst and let out a heavy wave of radiation. Those in the immediate area with him were killed instantly. But his blue eyes turned amber as he watched them fall. Screaming "No!" until the second wave and after that...Nothing but darkness and silence.

Yet here he was, propped up against the wall facing the reactor's deadly glop of uranium. His eyes glazed over as he stared in silence at the aftermath that, for some reason unbeknownst to him, he survived. He sat like that for a few minutes (hours maybe?) before he stood up with quivering legs ready to fail on him. Michael used the wall to hold himself up as he begun his trip to the outside.

"crack"

"Ou! Suchyy syn!" He tripped over another skeleton and onto glass which pierced his hand. Gritting his teeth, the glass came out as smooth as possible which he tossed onto the ground and stared at the would for a moment before holding it closed with his other hand. It took awhile to walk through the eerie silence of the plant. It's decrepit, worn out structure only remained standing thanks to the handiwork of the architects of the time but that doesn't mean that the sounds of crumbling bits of concreate couldn't be heard from the other sections of the plant, along with the cawing of the crows. and other birds that now inhabited this place. Once outside he was struck once again into silence as the once lively plant and surrounding area was reduced to a ghost town, a ghost city. Only nature ruled her now. Rubbing his amber eyes once more he continued walking towards what he believed was a safer section. What Michael didn't know was that he was being followed. Followed by a blue man.

He made it to a clearing, where a now abandoned amusement park once held festivals and fun. It was here where the "blue demon" showed himself. He poofed into existence in front of Michael, startling him into a silent scream before lunging at him with a cocked fist. "Please, I already dealt with one of you attacking me and he now has a headache. Don't make this hard for me." Before the swing even connected he stopped and looked perplexed. Not only did this blue thing pop up in front of him, now it was trying to speak to him, IN ENGLISH!

"Sranʹ ! SHCHO SHCHO khrenʹ ty !" Nightcrawler sighed.

"You're not going to make thi-"

"Yak vy znayete anhliysʹku ? Shcho , chort vizʹmy , stalosya vse tut ? Chy buv ryatuvalʹna komanda -" Nightcrawler already had a long day as it was. Mutants trying to hit him, run from him. Sure some made it easy but why was it the last bit that had to make it difficult. He simply rolled his eyes and grabbed the man's shirt and disappeared with him in a cloud of smoke, cutting him off from whatever the hell he was saying.

They reappeared among a group of individuals, and the recently startled Ukranian kept up his bombardment of questions, leaving nightcrawler with an exhausted expression. "- Poslav , shchob vidnovyty tilo ? Yakshcho tak, to chomu, chort vizʹmy, ne zrobyly vony ... De my i khto ebut vony? SHCHO VIDBUVAYETʹSYA TUT!" At this point Michael was in a state of panic. His wide eyes darted among the group.

Budʹ laska . Skazhitʹ , budʹ laska , u vas ye uyavlennya pro te , shcho vidbuvayetʹsya? His eyes pleading with the group.

---

Ben sat alone in the crappy, threadbare chair that marked the only other piece of furniture, sans the bed and small coffee table, in his motel room. He leaned back into it, letting his thoughts overtake him momentarily. As the old plastic radio droned on in German, reading out a series of news reports, Ben pinched his eyes closed and let himself go. He had held things together so well after arriving in Berlin, but the life he had lost was beginning to set in and he could feel the tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. The love he had lost, the friends he had lost, the sights he had lost. He was all alone in an alien world that he had only been calling home for twelve months now. As the first tear leaked its way out from underneath his pinched eyelids he heard a soft knock at the door. Ben called on the strength to lift himself out of his seat and walk across the room, wiping his sleeve across his face to wipe away the tears before pulling the door open. Outside was a drunken brunette college girl giggling with her friend. They were speaking in German, but Ben was able to understand them after having studied German,

"Oh mein Gott Steph das ist das falsche Zimmer.", Oh my god Steph this is the wrong room, the blonde girl, clearly inebriated as well, said in a giggly tone.

"Ja, aber er ist süß ist nicht er?!"Yeah but isn't he cute? The brunette said, turning her head to the other girl.

Ben pursed his lips, giving the two girls a steel gaze as he said, in a broken voice,

"Hau ab. Finden jemand anderes zu stören.", Get lost. Find someone else to bother. With that he abruptly slammed the door in their faces, and turned around to resume his sitting, drinking, and crying. The room was exactly as he had left it just moments before, except for the ever growing pool that the condensation on his half consumed bottle of beer was leaving on the table beside his chair. It was all the same, except for the tall lanky three fingered man staring at him. The man wore a yellow faux leather jacket with the collars turned up, and the arms cut off.

"Hello there!" The man said, trying to be friendly through a thick German accent.

Ben immediately assumed a defensive posture and snapped back at the man "The devil himself took time out of his busy schedule just to see me? I know I'm going to hell but personal valet service was unexpected."

The sarcastic response helped to hide the growing anxiety that he was feeling from the familiar mutant before him suddenly appearing.

"No I am not the devil!" Kurt shot back, sounding almost offended, "I am Night-"

"I know who you are Kurt." Ben interrupted, "But what the hell do you want?!"

"Oh I am glad to hear this. There is a team of mutants assembling and we would like-"

"Go fuck yourself." Ben said dryly, motioning to the window "And see yourself out of my damn motel room while you're at it."

"I must please ask that you come with us! It would be much more, how do you say, pleasant if you were to come with me easily."

"Was I not clear about what you could do?" Ben asked, clearly annoyed "I can draw you a picture if it'll help."
Kurt shook his head, clearly disappointed, and began moving towards the man, arms opened. When he was almost to Ben, Ben jerked his arm and the bed came flying across the room, smacking into an offguard Nightcrawler.

The mutant recovered by teleporting out from underneath it to next to Ben, but he was already running. He had kicked down the door which he had previously slammed shut, and was running down the staircase. Night crawler followed him down and Ben began doing whatever he could to avoid the other mutant. Jerking his arm again, the railing on the stairs began to detach, wrapping around Kurt. Letting out a deep growl Kurt teleported clear, before launching a kick into Ben's chest and wrapping his tail around the man's leg, before teleporting away.

---

Ben woke up, groggy and his eyes blurry. He attempted to rub his eyes, but felt a shock go through his body, its effects not nearly as painful as the practitioner had clearly hoped. From the dull throbbing pain on the side of his head Ben quickly realized that Nightcrawler must have kicked him upon their arrival, rendering him unconscious. Ben let out a sick smile as he pulled harder against the restraints, feeling them feeding him,

"Clearly whatever dipshit designed these restraints didn't know who I was." he muttered more to himself than any of the other people that he was vaguely aware inhabited the space with him.

As he felt the energy absorb into him he could feel his powers grow. He had been operating on low levels of energy, most of which he had used up at the hotel, in order to avoid detection. These restraints, however, were solving that for him. One final tug drained the small power cells, meant to stun, or render unconscious, the wearers should they restrain against them. He waved a finger and the side of his large bulky cuffs ripped away. Another finger wave and the other side tore away as well, the cuffs dropping to the metal floor with a dull clank.

Ben, now clearly pissed off, waved his hand, and the restraints that came over his shoulders, locking him in like a sick carnival ride, popped away, creaking with clear displeasure. He heard another mutant pipe up from across the room, clearly also restrained,

"Can't you tell? You're in some kind of Mutant training center. Kurt fucking Wagoner is like the obsessive boyfriend that can't take no. Except instead of a clingy relationship, he wants you in his speshul boy band."

---

Alex Summers turned, concerned, to Magneto and inclined his head, "Did we really need to take them against their will...? Shouldn't Kurt have just left them alone if they didn't want to come."

Magneto waved a hand, his mouth forming a snarl, "My dear boy, we needed them. They resisted. Kurt did as he was instructed. I expect you will do the same should the time come.

"Thanks Greg." Sam said to the barista as she payed for her black tea, and cranberry scone. It was the same breakfast she had every morning after her thirty minute morning jog. Practically all the employees at Pete's Cafe knew Samantha by name and order. She grabbed her to go cup, and napkin wrapped scone before waving goodbye to Mrs. Gleason the owners wife, who was watering the flower boxes on the windows outside. Today was like every other day for Sam. Wake up, jog, get breakfast, go home, shower, go to work, eat lunch, go home, read a book, or watch a movie, order take out for dinner, do yoga, go to bed, and then do it all over again.

Dressed in her black joggers, a light blue tank top, and her favorite athletic jacket, she looked like every other morning runner on the boardwalk. A typical running enthusiasts outfit. She walked down the sidewalk and passed the multitude of tourist boutiques, beach shops, and signs advertising surfing lessons, and jet ski rentals. Early morning on Venice Beach was her favorite time of day. She took a bite of her scone as she rounded the corner towards her street. She had lived in LA for the past four years now, and she was stuck in her mundane life. Not that she really minded, but being alone, and bored for so long was kind of depressing.

Finishing off her scone and tea, Sam tossed the empty napkin and cup into the trash bin. Taking her usual shortcut home she crossed the quite street into the alleyway. Then Nightcrawler appeared out of nowhere. She knew his face from the news, and wondered what the hell he could possibly be doing, popping up in front of her.

"Hello, I was sent to recruit you to our cause, as a fellow mutant, with the hope that we would be able to train you to more fully understand your mutation, and someday, utilize it to help others...God, that is like the 20th time I've said that today." He said looking impatient.

She raised her eyebrows in question. "What cause? And who is our? I'm pretty sure I won't be much help anyway, my abilities are not really of the attack or defense variety." She said calmly. Not really concerned with the blue man in front of her. In the back of her mind though she was going over the many different ways she could knock him out and runaway. From what she gathered from the news reports, this guy and the company he was usually seen with, were trouble.

Kurt sighed. He was just about done with this recruitment mission. Being punched, and chasing people got boring after a while. "You know what, I'll just explain later. So come with me." He said grabbing her by the wrist, and teleporting her to into the transport ship.

Samantha felt nauseous, and decided to never let anyone teleport her again. Not that she had allowed Nightcrawler in the first place. Just as she was about turn around and knee him in the groin, he disappeared in a puff of blue smoke. Slightly annoyed, she walked over to one of the seats and sat down. This was her first time being around this many mutants at once, as she had only met a handful or so in her life. Whatever was going on it was clear that most of the passengers on this transport had no idea what was going on either. She slipped her phone out of her pocket, and text her boss that she had an emergency and was not going to make it to work today. Unfortunately there was no cell reception, and the text would remain undelivered.

Looking to her side was a girl. "Any idea where we are being taken?" She asked casually like she was asked for the time, and this was a totally normal situation, were there wasn't any angry confused super powered people in chaos around her.

Alice smiled as she laid down in the cool grass, feeling the sunlight on her face. "Such a great day.." she mumbled. She had the day off from work, So she had to spend the day at the park. she felt content to lay in the grass all day, letting the the different vibrations of the earth thrum through her being.

"Hello, Sorry to disturb you..." a disembodied voice admitted.

Every vibration she felt coming from the person next to her thrummed with Safe, Nerves, and slight tremble that usually come from mutants. Opening her eyes she found a blue man with and a tail, staring down at her curiously. Within a moments notice, She smiled up at him and offered her hand to have him help her up.

"Hello, how can I help you?" Alice began, speaking softly.

"Hello, My name is Nightcrawler... I really need your help. I am looking for mutants like yourself to form a team. Would you be willing to be apart of the team?" the man asked, scratching the back of his head with his fingers.

Alice tapped her chin, as she thought about it. Nightcrawler seemed really sincere, and already knew about X-men. She wasn't the type to go head first into things, but he wanted her help. She had to give it to him, It most be a hard job looking for mutants willing to fight. She nodded her head, as she grabbed his hand a gave it a squeeze.

"Okay" Alice said, Next thing she knew. Her vision was obscured by blue smoke, and she smelled smoke all of sudden, like when someone suddenly set off a bunch of fire works at one time. But, made her spine tingle and her needing to take deep breathes of air. Is when she feels absolutely nothing for a few seconds, No vibrations, not even a slight thrum. When he transported them to the facility, muttered a soft thank you as a open bottle of water is pressed into her hands. She could hear Nightcrawler apologizing, as she focus on the natural vibration of the earth. "It's okay really.." she tries to reassure him, as she takes a seat on the ground and takes a deep breath to calm herself. As she calmed down, she took notice of the others around her.

Derrick

"Hello darkness my old friend,
I've come to talk to you again.
Because a vision softly creeping,
left its seeds while I was sleeping..."

Derrick sang quietly to himself as he rode. Well, quietly was a relative term. He was honestly belting the words out with some serious projection, but at 75 miles an hour on the back of a Harley Davidson with the wind in his face... quietly was better than most could hope for.

"And the vision," he continued, "that was planted in my brain, still remains."

A new voice cut in, one with a slight german accent. "Within the sound, of silence."

To his credit Derrick didn't suddenly swerve off the road in his shock. He'd been riding alone for the last three hundred miles, leaving that girl in Tacoma the night before. A glance at his sideview mirror showed a bright blue, fur covered individual perched on the pillion seat just behind him on the bike. "Simon and Garfunkel," the blue guy shouted. "Love their work."

"Actually," Derrick yelled back. "I was going with the cover done by Disturbed." He lifted his left hand and pointed back over his right shoulder with two fingers. A moment later there was a brilliant flare of light around his fingers and a tiny bolt of energy flew from his hand at his unwanted passenger.

Blue boy ducked, easily avoiding the, admittedly, weak shot and leaped into the air. There was a strange sound, one that was lost entirely in the roar of the engine beneath him and the howling wind and the blue mutant vanished in a cloud of smoke. Derrick smirked and turning back to the front, sure that his visitor was gone.

When he found himself gazing into a pair of deep yellow eyes though, he reacted like any other terrified individual in the presence of a mutant terrorist that was wanted by just about every government on earth might react, he panicked.

"Gah!" he cried out and his hands came up off the handle bars as he swung wildly at the face while leaning back on the bike to try to put some distance between him and the Nightcrawler.

The end result was he threw the bike off balance and the whole vehicle started to swerve back and forth, the front wheel wobbling violently. He grabbed the handlebars and pulled on the brake. In his panic he pulled a little too hard. The front wheel locked up and an instant later the vehicle was flipping end over end down the highway bits of plastic and chunks of metal spraying across the road.

Of Derrick and the crawler there was no sign, save for a cloud of sulfurous smoke that quickly dissipated on the breeze.

----------

They appeared inside a room, location, unknown to Derrick. He idly noticed other people sitting and standing around but he wasn't paying much attention. They second they landed he wrenched himself away from Nightcrawler, pulling his jacket free of the grip the other mutant had on him and reached up to yank off his helmet which he slammed on the ground.

"What in tha fecking hell is wrong with ye?" he roared, his Irish accent far more pronounced than usual in his rage. "Ye don' teleport onto that back of a mans bike while he's doing 70 down that bloody motorway!" He paused for a second eyes growing wide as a thought occurred to him. "And what tha hell happened to me bike?" he roared.

Lamia wanted to hit someone. She wouldn't of course, she was much better at hitting inanimate objects or herself instead of striking other people. There was noise all around her, people talking, asking questions, complaining... She could feel herself getting anxious, the tightness in her chest, feeling twisted in the stomach and like she wanted to cry, even though she never was able to cry when she began to feel this way.
She just wanted to be away from all these people and on her own, left alone. The thoughts and emotions running through her head ranged from anxious to uncertain, feeling lost, sad and like she missed something but could quite tell what. She had the overwhelming urge to hit herself or worse, but she didn't know where any of things where, save for one. She sighed deeply and got to her feet.

Not looking at anyone, she made her way to what seemed to be an opening in the vehicle, stepping out into a fairly well lit concrete room. She glanced around for the blue guy who had brought her here. He'd seemed mildly familiar when she'd seen him, but couldn't place where. It wasn't until she saw the greying older man dressed in some purple, camp clothing with a flowing cape that she recognised who she'd been brought to. The magnet mutant guy, some terrorist who had a hard-on for hating and killing non-mutant humans.

Great. She thought to herself, I'm at an ISIS recruitment drive. Fucking perfect.

She rubbed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose before running her hand back and pulling her hair from her eyes. Her anxiety was still there, which was ironic when she realised there was nothing to be anxious about. It's not like they could kill her. But still, she didn't like being around so many people and working herself up to talking to anyone.

"Alright," she said, addressing Magneto directly, "I don't really want to be here or join a bunch of terrorists and nobody here will seem to SHUT UP!" she paused after shouting the last two words, loud enough for everyone to hear. It was typical for her mood and emotions to get the best of her when she was stressed, spontaneously yelling or hitting things.

"Just tell me where I can go to get some sleep and I'll leave when I wake up." she finished, her voice sounding tired and resigned while she swayed unsteadily on her feet from hunger.

@FantasyChic@pockets@Lady Hestia@Emma@Prudence@FallenTrinity@LokiLeo789@Dark Eternity@SirSqueakalot91@TheIrishJJ@Proleptic

Not having said a single word in forever, Dominique Got up and stuffed her clothes into the backpack. She had noticed the transporter stopping and was minding her own. Casually, she threw more and more clothing into the backpack, without the bag appearing to get stuffed. Her eyes darted off to her sides from time to time, catching glances of people in an attempt to check them out. There were quite a group of them showing up one after another by Kurt's powers and they were more than pissed off at most times.

Great, she thought to herself. This is going smoothly. She finally stuffed the last piece of her clothing into the backpack and flung it on her back. She did not say a word until she reached the ramp and saw where she was taken and who was here. Her eyes immediately fixed on Magneto and she blurted out in anger. "No! You are the last person I will work for. Blue Demon, get me out of here!"

In her fit of hate, she was not focused and her mind slipped the grip of her powers. In a loud busting sound, her backpack's zipper broke open and in a violent wave, her clothing was thrown out into every direction. The shock hit her and she ducked from the incoming rain of shirts and jeans. Her makeup case fell to the ground as well and scattered its insides on the ground as well. "Merde" slipped her mouth as she began gathering her belongings.

Justin grabbed his duffle bag and came off the plane, or whatever this thing was. He looked around the base, and saw an old man and some kid. The some of the others were reacting, he figured they were someone important. But he saw fear, anger, feelings like that in the eyes of those around him, so he teleported to the front of the crew, acting as a shield.

"So, I take it you are some kind of big boss?" He asked the old man, then looked at him. He took notice of a tattoo of numbers on his arm. He raised his eyebrow, and looked at his own arm, showing a similar tattoo. "You a survivor?" He asked. "My grandmother was one as well." He said, looking at the older man. He didn't trust the man much, but he softened up abit. "So, why are we here? Mr. Blue wasn't very big on details, and unlike the others, I wanna hear you out before I decide to leave or not." He said.

Francis got up from the floor, his elbows having gotten sore with the amount of time that he was on the floor for. He looked around, seeing that people were leaving whatever vehicle they were in. Francis decided to shift back into his human form - people were scared enough of what was happening, having some red guy with scales and jet black hair probably wasn't helping. When he looked down at himself, however, he remembered that he was only wearing pants. It might not be too bad when he's in his true form, but Francis was feeling too self conscious to be almost naked in front of a load of strangers for the first time. He needed some clothes, and decided to go up to Magneto, following up from what the guy who nodded at him earlier had said. "Yeah, and where can I get some clothes around here?" he asked.

Ben, now clearly pissed off, waved his hand, and the restraints that came over his shoulders, locking him in like a sick carnival ride, popped away, creaking with clear displeasure. He heard another mutant pipe up from across the room, clearly also restrained,

"Can't you tell? You're in some kind of Mutant training center. Kurt fucking Wagoner is like the obsessive boyfriend that can't take no. Except instead of a clingy relationship, he wants you in his speshul boy band."

Ronan looked at the tall man speaking those awful words — the words that threw out any chance of him calming down. "M-mutant training facility?" Ronan asked, his voice noticeably increasing in pitch as he did so. Ronan hadn't been this stressed and anxious since the last time he had an attack — that was in freshman year. He began to taste a mix of bile, and stomach acid — he could feel the beginnings of vomit coming. He bent over, hands on his knees, and allowed a small amount of water and stomach acid to be expelled from his mouth. He straightened and wiped his mouth, before coughing up a storm. He felt as if his throat was closing up. Despite his lack of awareness at the moment, he couldn't help but be brought back into reality as he heard a harsh shout from one girl, and then felt some sort of explosion from a different direction. His anxiety was temporarily put on the side as he saw a few random articles of clothing land in his pile of sick. "Umm... I-I'm sorry about the clothes." He said to the obviously disgruntled girl, with the empty backpack.

Ronan looked around, significantly more calm, though still obviously on the verge of an anxiety attack. He had it under control for the moment. He surveyed present company, and recognized the blue man from earlier. Ronan looked through the multitude of others who were obviously brought the same way as him, shackled or not. Expressions ranged from uncomfortable and angry, to interested or just plain bored. Ronan continued surveying the people around him, stopping when he came upon that same older man. All his anxiety returned like a brick as he came, once again, to the realization that this man was Erik Lehnsherr — this man is Magneto.

Ronan locked eyes with the man, his heart practically beating out of his chest. This man was a murderer, and he wanted Ronan for something. "W-what am I doing here? Why did you bring me here?! You have to let me go!" Ronan said, firing off all of this in rapid succession.

Ronan walked right down the ramp and past the two men, barely paying the other one any mind. His only concern was Magneto, and not being there. He looked around the hangar, observing the variation of people trouncing about in the enclosure. "This is not normal"

Magneto watched as the mutants, some teens, some young adults, filed down the ramp in varying degrees of alarm, acceptance, or rage. Charles was so much better at recruitment. He sighed, running his fingers through his silver thinning hair, pinched his eyes shut for a moment, wishing for a moment that he could tune out all the sound berating him. Finally he opened his eyes and looked at the onslaught of people. Questions like "where can I go to sleep" "how can I leave" "What the hell am I doing here?" were all being leveled at him.

Alex glanced up to him and almost gave him a "your fault" shrug, before turning to the crowd,

"You've been gathered here today because we need the best and brightest of our kind. I will admit, Erik did bring you here a bit roughly, but it tells to the dire situation that we are in. As many of you know, most of the known trained mutants, myself included, are considered to be terrorists and are labeled kill on sight to most governments. However, we have gotten word of an impending threat facing the mutant race, and perhaps even the human race, and that is why we have gathered you all here today."

Magneto cut in, "But there will be no leaving. You've seen our faces, and our facilities, and you all must stay now. We are in need of your abilities."

Lamia's patience had just about gone. She could feel her anxiety making way, first to irritation, then to indignation an finally to anger. I t was a feeling that rose to the back of her throat and the noise around her seemed to fill her head to the point where she couldn't concentrate on anything beyond her own tiredness, how weak she felt and her own anger. Surprising herself, she started to laugh sardonically.

"Okay," she started, chuckling slightly once Magneto finished speaking, "Let me get this straight; You're "considered terrorists"? There's no "considered" about it, you did kill a bunch of politicians and you have killed thousands of people at least." Lamia stated carefully yet oddly passionately, as if there was a lot weighing on her mind that she was all to glad to get rid of.

"And don't give me that "the difference between a terrorist and a freedom fighter is perception" shit, the Brotherhood of Mutants are a bunch or mutant-suprecimist cunts who kill as many innocent civilians with their collateral damage as they kill human-supremacists! For fucks sake, you people would have made Hitler proud! But we're supposed to just ignore all that and run to you with appreciation all because there's "an impending threat facing the mutant race?" We're just supposed to ignore that a mass-murdererer has called us here today and overlook your atrocities because it's super important to you? Actually, you know what, forget all that, let's focus on what you said..." she continued, looking evenly at Magneto, sourly.

""There will be no leaving", huh? So that means we haven't been recruited, we've been kidnapped and we're being told we don't have a choice, like child soldiers. What are you going to do if any of us says no and asks to leave? Kill us? Are you going to kill people, mutant or not, just to get your way? And that's supposed to inspire confidence and loyalty in us? Through what, fear? Or are you just going to keep us prisoner here and kidnap another group until you find the ones to scared to say no? Until you get your subservient mutant army following out of fear?" Lamia rubbed her temples. Now she really wanted to hit something. She could feel the anxiety come crashing back.

"But you know what? Do whatever the fuck you want. Go ahead and kill anyone who say no to you, you'll be doing at least one of us a favour." She laughed, "You know I've actually killed myself about twelve times this week? Just ask your blue errand boy, I slit my throat before I got here. So go ahead and pull your bullshit, but for fucks sake just hurry the fuck up and get on with it or step up your game and give us one good reason to actually listen to you beside "there's a threat to mutants and you cannot leave."" Lamia kept her eyes level with Magneto's, her indignation coming to the forefront of her mind and words, "Because right now I think you're just the same sort of "rule through pain, control and fear" pathetic fuck I know all too well."