Bounce — Roleplayer Guild

   S E A S O N   O N E :   H O M E C O M I N G 
Location: The Xavier Institute - Westchester, New YorkNew Mutants #1.03
Interaction(s): @Retired

The auditorium felt foreboding.

It was like stepping back into the Murderama, except now the X-Baby sat in the audience. It was odd. The adults were standing on the stage. 

...and all the kids were in the audience?

This was the opposite of Cherub’s upbringing. It didn’t make the auditorium seem any less forboding. If anything, it made the experience only that much more alien. To not be up on the stage. To not be forced to perform, constantly coached to be the image or embodiment of a popular icon.

He had to always be what the audience wanted him to be.

...even if the audience wanted him dead?

“Hey.”

The blue-eyed angel blinked, snapped back to reality. 

“...monitored by experienced mentors who will guide each of you...”

Turning his head, the blue-skinned youth looked over at Evan. The other boy had a look of concern on his face. Flashing his best smile at the other boy, the diminutive Archangel tried to play it off, turning his attention back to the man that was speaking.

The boy’s attention span didn’t hold out for very long. Glancing around the auditorium, there were a lot of faces. And not a lot of names to go with them. Well, except for a few, but it was strange because Cherub knew them by their X-Baby equivalent.

Sammy’s name was called, the blue-skinned youth searching through the audience for the orange scaled fish head that defined his roommate.

“...and, um... Cherub.”

“Wait,” the boy chirped, holding up his hands. Had he said that these were five man groups? How many named had he just called? Counting on his fingers, the dim light of realization briefly illuminated the boy’s face. “Oh,” he uttered, turning to look over at Evan.

They were going to be on different teams?

“Hey, you’re on the same team as Katie!” Evan offered brightly.

“...and the roommate who ran out of our room screaming,” Cherub noted. 

The most popular girl in school. The boy that wings had possibly tried to kill while Cherub was asleep. A couple of teenagers. This was shaping up well. It almost sounded like a Mojo reality TV series. Westchester Shore maybe. Katie “Energizer” Power. Bobby “the Iceman” Drake. Sammy the Squidboy. And... what was the other girl’s name?

From the assembly, the students broke into morning classes. It was to be a normal school day. First English, then math. Then it was time for lunch. The second half of the day was where things were to get interesting. They were meeting their assigned mentors in their groups for the afternoon. It was kind of an extended PE session, he supposed. 

Some kids in the cafeteria had already changed into their black and gold training uniform.

He met Evan at the same table in the back as they’d shared at breakfast. Evan asked some more questions about Mojoworld before it was time to go change. 

Changing into the black and gold ensemble, the boy wrestled and wormed from side to side as he tried to get comfortable with the unfamiliar garment. His wings flexed several times as he tried to acclimate to the fit or feel.

Then, taking a deep breath, he stepped out to meet the team.

MOJOWORLD
The Murderama Complex | One Month Earlier...

The boy fidgeted in the dressing room chair. 

He ‘sposed he should have been accustomed to it by now, but it was still pretty boring. Everything was about looking good for the camera. And there were cameras everywhere. 

“Five minutes to showtime!”

At the announcement, the boy hopped down from the chair. Reaching his hands back, he grabbed hold of the cowl that hung at the back of his neck, but another pair of hands stopped him from pulling it over his head.

“No, no! Audience polls favor Archangel with his hair wild and free!” a woman’s voice offered.

A man’s hand interjected, tousling the mass of blonde hair before taking a step back. “Beautiful. Fabulous. Wouldn’t change a thing!” the make-up artist exclaimed.

“The audience will just eat you up,” Debby-316, one of their usual handlers, stated, even as she took the boy by the shoulders and turned him toward the door. 

It was a hallway he was well acquainted with. The backstage led to one of the Murderama stadiums where the X-Babies would perform. And then perform again. And then perform some more. 

As he passed beneath the shadow of a window, the boy gazed up into the polluted sky and wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like to be out there. No cameras, just clouds. No applause, just the wind in his ears...

“TONIGHT ON MURDERAMA!”

Standing on the edge of the stage, the small Angel looked around. The show was about to start. “But...” the child began, turning his head up toward Debby-316 and the Hairdresser, he asked, “Where are the others?”

“Its an Archangel special!” Debby-316 announced, throwing his arms wide.

“They love you. They really love you!” the Hairdresser enthused.

“IT’S SUNDAY, SUNDAY, SUNDAY!”

Taking the boy by the shoulders, Debby-316 pushed the boy forward. As the golden-haired Cherub glanced back over his shoulder he saw the two retreating back to the backstage door.

“Knock ‘em dead!”

“Show ‘em the wings!”

The small X-Baby let out a breath that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Then, drawing in a breath, puffed out his chest. There was a metallic sound, as the silvery techno-organic wings reared up over the child’s small frame as the spotlights suddenly shone down to highlight him. There was a murmur of approval from the audience, before the announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium to announce...

“THE SUNDAY SPLATFEST SPECTACULAR: CHERUB... CANCELLED!”

“Wait, WHAT?” The boy’s head went back, just as a sound from behind him prompted him to shoot up from the ground. There was a metallic whine as the wings flexed, the child sailing upward as a silvery predator came crashing at the spot where the boy had stood just a half-second before.

“Look at those reflexes!”

Faltering in mid-air, the boy shot a glance downward. A warwolf was perched on the ground, pushing off in a jump at the child. The boy gave a yelp in surprise, trying to pull upward for more altitude...

...and crashing into one of the stage lights.

“Oh! That had to hurt.”

“Indeed, Barry-13. The warwolves are off the chain, but Cherub has taken to the air.”

Up in the production room, the Commenters observed the screens and had a view over the stadium floor. From various angles, they could see the boy bounce off the stage lighting, as six predatory forms started to circle on the ground below.

“The stadium dome is closed and they’ve lowered the ceiling. That little Archangel has nowhere to go!”

“What do you think his next move will be, Clark-7?”

Fluttering along, the boy buzzed the ceiling, circling in a panic as he looked for some avenue of escape. Grabbing hold of the scaffolding, the child crawled up and shimmied into a corner, his wings drawn up protectively around him as two of the warwolves started up the metal frame.

“The warwolves are scaling the scaffolding. The gap is closing. He’s in reach of their claws, and it’s...”

The claws scraped against metal. 

Startled and frightened, the small Archangel gave an ear-splitting squeal of terror. The wings seemed to almost explode out of his body, flaring outward as the razor-fine edge cut through everything in their path. 

Something hot and wet sprayed him in the face.

The blue and violet costume was stained, drops of red running in rivets from the wings. The metal scaffolding fell away in pieces as it was sheared aside by the sweep of the child’s metallic wings.

Here was the avatar of the Horseman of Death.

“THE AUDIENCE GOES WILD!”

The cheers and applause rose up from the floor. Stunning the child into silence at the realization of what he’d done. 

“I hope the front rows are wearing ponchos, Barry-13.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“tch”

The massive blob of flesh jiggled as the spindly arms held up a photograph.

The image of Warren Worthington the Third stared back. Fair skin. White, feathered wings.

“What a boring character model,” Mojo spat, tossing the picture aside. It lay in a stack of several other recent photos of the X-Men. With a sigh, the man stared down over the proposed designs from marketing for the next season of The Adorable X-Babies. Among which was an updated model for Cherub in a blue and white suit with a stylized halo in the center of the chest. “Everyone thinks retro is in,” the bloated figure complained bitterly.

The cybernetic dais he rested his amorphous form on seemed to labor under the weight. Eight, spider-like mechanical legs skittered as the large figure turned away from the marketing proposal, instead focusing on the current statistics.

“Hmm, viewership is up,” the gluttonous form commented dryly, before casting a scathing glare over at his Major Domo. “Make sure we’re recording this. The proceeds on the re-broadcast will be huge when word of the live stream gets around.”

A strange sound echoed through the studio, as a panic seemed to overtake the camera and production team.

“What?” Mojo demanded, glancing back to see several of the Murderama feeds going off the air. Scrambling toward the windows of his office, the slovenly blob pressed up against the glass as he saw the dome of the stadium pierced by a silvery bullet, which unfurled to reveal the wings of the techno-organic angel. 

“Can he do that? He can’t do that!” Mojo demanded, as a fist slammed against the glass.

“That’s specifically a breach of his contract!”

   S E A S O N   O N E :   H O M E C O M I N G 
Location: The Xavier Institute - Westchester, New YorkNew Mutants #1.01
Interaction(s): @Retired@DocTachyon

The blue-skinned child was in a cold sweat.

Asleep on his stomach, the boy twitched as he dreamed. His body made sudden, jerking reactions to phantasms that were not there. 

His plight went unnoticed, as the room he shared was quiet – aside from the occasional murmur from the sleeping Cherub. His roommate, Sammy, was likewise obliviously dozing until a noise jolted him awake.

The tearing of fabric was what had caught the Squidboy’s attention, but it was the distinct sound of something grinding into the drywall that roused the aquatic mutant from out of his half-awake state. Dazed and confused, Sammy Pare looked over at the other bed in the dormitory room, and saw silvery metallic wings protruding through the bed sheets. 

The right wing hung in the air, threads dangling off its razor-tipped wings. The left had stuck into the wall of the room, cutting a tear into the paint and drywall.

Bolting from the bed, the orange-skinned mutant called out, “Cherub!”

It seemed strange to call the winged boy by what was, essentially, a code-name. But, it seemed like it was the only name he had. 

Sammy approached the other boy’s bed, taking a step back as the one, free wing seemed to wave. “Cherub, wake up!” the Squidboy said, calling out a second time when there was a strange metallic whine.

He felt air pass by his face, then there was a THUNK. Maybe a couple of ‘em. Sammy gaze peered off to the right, and saw three razor-feathers sticking out of the wall, just an inch from his head.

The child’s squeal shattered the early morning silence through the men’s dorms. Scrambling backward, the Squidboy backpeddled before bolting out into the hall.

The ear-piercing scream had snapped the Angel awake, the blue-skinned, bed-headed figure rousing from the bed in a cloud of confusion as he caught a glimpse of Sammy fleeing through the doorway. Cherub started to get up, but felt himself stuck against something. Pulling against the anchor, the resistance gave way as a patch of drywall crumbled onto the bed as the wing came free from the wall. The shower of drywall dust added to the fog of confusion, as Cherub sat up and found himself entangled in tattered ribbons of bed sheets.

He looked at the metal feathers sticking through the fabric.

He looked at the three razors sticking out of the wall.

Then he looked back at the doorway where Sammy had run screaming, and saw a collection of students starting to gather there.

...and that was when realization dawned on him. Sucking in a quick breath, he felt his face grow hot. The blue skin of his cheeks turned a brilliant fushia as the embarrassment gripped him. Tucking his body into a fetal ball atop the bed, the wings folded around him to shield him from the stares of his classmates.

There was a light tapping against his wings. Hugging his knees against his chest, the X-Baby tightened the wings around him as he buried his head down and tried to will the outside world from existence. 

“Hey.”

Retracting the wings back slightly, the boy’s azure eyes peeked up. He found himself looking up into a boy who looked to be his age. Or nearly so. Dressed in the black and gold uniform of the Xavier Institute, the stranger had skin that seemed a very pale shade of blue. Lines marked either side of his face, crossing over the cheekbones and connecting to his mouth.

Placing a hand against one of the wings, the boy peered down to ask, “Are you okay?”

Cherub just put his head down on his arms.

“You want to get breakfast?”

When Cherub looked up, he saw a pale blue hand waiting for him. “Come on. It is an assembly morning, so the cafeteria will be closing early.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Xavier Institute cafeteria was even more threatening than the Danger Room. 

Cliques were made and broken on these linoleum tiles. In one corner, a girl with blond pig-tails was surrounded by an entourage of fans, hanging on every word as she described the time she’d visited the alien world of Kymellia. 

Her name was Katie. She was one of more popular kids at the school, even though she was one of the youngest students. She’d been part of a superhero team known as Power Pack and had already been on adventures with the X-Men, earning a place among them and this school.

...which, according to other people, was the problem with her being there. Katie wasn’t a mutant. She’d been born an ordinary girl and then received her powers from an alien abduction. 

At the bottom rung of popularity, beneath the freaks and geeks, were the kids who sat alone in the cafeteria. Outcasts. 

Cherub found he had traded the popularity of Mojoworld’s media machine for the mocking disdain of his classmates. After all, who wanted to be friends with a Baby?

Fidgeting with his tray, the blue-skinned Angel hesitated as the boy who’d come to his rescue led them over to an unoccupied table. “Is it okay for me to sit here?”

Glancing up, a fork containing a breakfast potato in his mouth, the pale blue teen just glanced up, confused, for a moment before he asked, “Why would it not?”

“People will see us,” Cherub noted, glancing up to see a couple of heads already nodding and whispering in the direction of the two. Turning back to the stranger, the X-Baby confessed, “No one ever wants to sit with me.”

The stranger just blinked. “Do you see anyone sitting with me?” the other boy inquired flatly.

Setting his tray down, the Angel glanced sheepishly around as he joined the stranger at the table. “Why wouldn’t they?” he asked. 

It was probably more of a rhetorical question, but the stranger answered anyway.

“Uh, I look like Apocalypse?” the stranger declared flatly.

Now it was Cherub’s turn to just blink. “Who’s ‘Pocalypse?” the X-Baby asked, confused.

The pale-skinned boy’s head went back in surprise. Then he leaned forward, as though certain the Angel was joking. Then blinked a second time as it dawned on him that the boy was not. “Are you joking?” the pale blue teen inquired, now even more confused. Finally, he asked, “How are you an identical copy of Angel and you don’t know who Apocalypse is?”

The golden-haired boy just gave a shrug. In between bites of food, he finally offered, “I’m Cherub.”

“Evan,” the other boy supplied. Silence lingered as both sampled their plates. Then, Evan asked, “Clone?”

“X-Baby,” Cherub replied, before asking in turn, “You?”

“Clone,” Evan affirmed simply. Stabbing at another breakfast potato, the pale blue teen glanced up as he asked, “What is an X-Baby?”

“Only the number-one entertainment blockbuster on Mojoworld!” Cherub answered excitedly, bits of food flying from his mouth as he sat back and exclaimed, “For, like, the last seven or so seasons.”

Evan just stared at the boy, the potato slipping from the fork as the teen sat there slack-jawed. Oblivious, the Angel continued, “I was created for season...” he paused, holding up a hand and seeming to count on his fingers. “...four,” he declared, though it seemed more a question than a statement. “I think.”

The pale blue teen started to speak, then seemed to reconsider. When he finally found his voice, he offered, “I have several questions.”

That was possibly an understatement.

To begin with. “Mojoworld?” Evan echoed.

Cherub simply gave a nod.

“This is a thing?” Evan inquired, quite uncertain what to think of this information.

“mmhmm,” the X-Baby murmured, sipping on a carton of chocolate milk.

“Parallel universe? Or trans-dimension?”

Putting the milk down, the boy just stared across the table at the pale boy. Then finally said, “I have no idea what that means.”

Evan started to speak, but the sound of a bell rang through the interior of the school. “We need to get to assembly, but I hope to continue this inquiry later,” the pale blue teen stated, rising up from his chair with his tray in hand.

He paused a moment, then glanced back at the other boy. “...if that’s all right with you?”

“Sure!” Cherub chimed brightly, sticking a hand out toward the other boy. “Friends?”

Evan just looked at the hand for a moment, then reached out to accept it.

This... seemed wrong on multiple levels.

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