Hillan

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

Thwip, thwip...

@Hound55

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

My iris post will be finished soon, in it I'm going to conclude the Trask system problems since nobody has really bitten that.

@Sep

I'm giga farbehind on reading but I've dedicated my weekend to reading posts & getting caught back up. (for real this time!) I'm interested in doing something with the X-men and Trask, but it'll prolly be further down the pipeline.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<Snipped quote by Hillan>

We got a Thor.

@Sep

Yeah, but like, a _real_ god. Someone who matters.

Like Doctor Doom or something /s.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Iris post incoming...

@Sep

Mach speed?
Kachow.

Uni's got me by the balls, my absence will probably last another week or so.

Let it be known that I'll adapt to anyone's plans in regards to mutants, besides shenanigans directly related to Magneto / Xavier, least I can do for going AWOL for a month, lmao. Don't feel like my current sporadic (sporadic is gracious) activity's a hinderance in case anyone wants to pop an X-gene. I'm real excited to get back to writing, so I'm looking forward to not having four exams up my butt and only working on my thesis for the rest of the year come October.

For Jason; Are either of the DC Or Marvel pantheons in use? Anything related to the amazons? He's famously not an amazon, but I've got some outlaws-shaped ideas.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Oopsie

"Perry's gonna kill us for this, you know that?"

Lois Lane smirked as the speedometer on her dashboard reached 80 MPH. Her car weaving between traffic on the freeway, The Daily Planet's primetime anchor paid no attention to the fact that her cameraman - dutifully checking his equipment from the questionable safety of the passenger seat - was experiencing a comedown from the adrenaline of being asked to come along for the breaking story happening out at Hob's Bay. Neither Lane nor Olsen could attest to the nature of what the story was yet, given that an explosion at a factory could've been the result of anything from faulty equipment that had passed through half-witted safety inspectors to domestic terrorists hoping to get one in on the morally dubious billionaire that owned the company, but the fire in Lois' eyes more than adequately indicated that she didn't care - she was getting this story first, Perry White's misgivings be damned.

"Olsen, that's your anxiety talking. If you know Perry, you'll know that he doesn't want what he thinks he wants."

Olsen was almost too afraid to ask, but he did it anyway. "Uh, okay. Then what does he want?"

"Whatever we're about to give him. So lose the negativity and keep prepping the cameras."

That unwavering confidence must have been what made Lois Lane the household name that she'd become, Clark mentally noted, hunched over in the back seat while quietly searching for any mention of the explosion from social media. So far, it seemed that any locals that were posting about it were still trying to piece together what'd happened - from the street, the recurring verdict was that none had been injured but there were more police on the scene than paramedics, indicating that there wasn't cause for concern. Clark nevertheless hoped that nobody had been caught in the blast. The last thing he'd want to experience on this job was any human suffering - though he realized how naive that sentiment probably was.

Lois glanced back at the man in the glasses through her rearview mirror, realizing that he'd barely said a word in the twenty minutes since they'd left. People who barely spoke were often a source of frustration with her, so to say that he hadn't made a great first impression was an understatement.

"Hey, intern."

"It's Clark."

Lois took a drag from a lit cigarette, all but interested. "Uh-huh. Find anything yet?"

Clark cleared his throat, his gaze affixed to his phone, still too nervous to look Lois in the eye. The truth of the matter is, he'd become an admirer of her work over the last year. It was even part of the reason he'd thought to apply for an internship at The Daily Planet. Though it hadn't made itself readily apparent so far, her passion for human interest stories and the victims of policies that favored the upper class at the expense of the lower class bled through the screen. She actually seemed to care, which was becoming more rare to find in any news organization. So to his mild embarrassment, he still couldn't shake the feeling of being starstruck. Whereas she seemed more annoyed with his presence than anything.

"Well... going off of this, it doesn't seem like anyone knows anything."

Lane didn't miss a beat as she tossed the burning cigarette out of the window and placed her hand firmly back on the wheel. "Since you're new, word of advice. Never judge a situation at the outset. Somebody knows something. Don't let the overly-polished exterior of this place fool you, there's always going to be a hidden angle. You just have to know how to spot the ones trying to keep hidden."

Clark kept his eyes down for a different reason, desperately trying not to show a reaction that might betray his rather contradictory circumstances.

"To be fair, I said the same thing about Intergang. And yet you and everyone else at the station remain a skeptic."

Clark's eyes suddenly darted up at Jimmy, curious. "Intergang?"

"Yeah. You've heard of them, surely. The whole urban legend about a secret cabal of criminals running the day-to-day businesses. Like the Maggia in New York except, well, more modern and tech-based. People used to think that Intergang was the whole reason that the city got practically rebuilt overnight after the big meteor shower before Luthor resurfaced and took credit for it. But I still think there's alot that Intergang's existence could answer about a few things, like how Lex managed to bribe his way to absolute power."

"He did it by having more money than God, Jimmy. Get enough of it yourself and you wouldn't need some all-powerful committee of stripe-suit fedora clowns from a Scorsese film to buy your way into any backroom dealings..."

"But it wouldn't hurt. And even with all of his money, Luthor couldn't have..."

"Oh, c'mon. You also believe that a giant monkey is living in the sewers."

Jimmy became visibly irate at that. "There is one, Lois! Titano's very real and nobody's doing anything about it! There's a ton of evidence online, you wouldn't believe how many witnesses are out there!"

Clark smiled to himself, his initial nerves finally subsiding. He and Lois even shared a glance of mutual amusement at Jimmy's brief loss of composure - but in a way that he could tell quietly meant she'd deny it if he ever so much as breathed a word to anyone. Even so, he considered it a small victory that she didn't look at him with contempt the entire time.

"Actually, I've read that Luthor gained all of his wealth through the military-industrial complex."

Lois and Jimmy glanced at eachother, surprised that Clark sounded so confident in such an assertion. The mild-mannered intern had barely even said two sentences at a time to either of him in his first week on the job, so hearing that he'd possessed any interest or insight into Metropolis' so-called leading citizen took some measure of adjustment. Most people were content to simply read off the blatantly edited facts approved for Luthorcorp's Wikipedia page.

"At least, that's what I've read in archived national news articles, before everything went digital. His lawyers have tried to have it buried, but a few key moments in the lead-up to the war in Iraq, the ongoing insurgency conflicts in Bialaya, and a few other big government operations were crucial to getting him an audience with S.H.I.E.L.D. And this part is conjecture, but it's likely that he designed a few state-of-the-art weapons for them, pocketed the contract earnings, and plunged it back into Metropolis' infrastructure."

"You read that in... I'm sorry, archived national news articles? Those things that no one ever cites as a credible source because it's just a bunch of cliff notes to be used for some passing-grade college theses?"

Clark adjusted his glasses, perhaps realizing that he was forgetting himself.

"I... had alot of free time in Met U."

Lois scoffed. "I'll bet."

"Isn't your dad in the military? Maybe he could confirm if Lex gets his money from weapons contracts instead of just computer hardware and security systems like he's always claimed. That could be a huge story in and of itself."

"Firstly, my dad and I haven't spoken since high school graduation. Secondly..."

"Mr. White wouldn't let you run a story about Luthor even if you wanted to. He's too litigious and his lawyers are some of the best in the country. Probably even the world."

Lois raised an eyebrow. "How did you know that?"

"Easy assumption to make. Men like Luthor always have their bases covered."

For a fleeting couple of seconds, Lane looked back at him from the rearview mirror once again, genuinely impressed by the seemingly meek stranger's quick response to the Luthor question. Most people in Metropolis were all too glad to let Luthorcorp foot the bill for the city after the widespread destruction in '94, so the billionaire had gained enough leeway in the public eye to earn very few outspoken skeptics. Lois had always been one of the few, so to hear a brief level of fire from a man who didn't look like he'd seen the outside more than a few days of his life was somewhat mystifying.

"Any more at home like you?"

"Not really, no."

The feeling didn't last. Lois and Jimmy immediately eyed the cloud of thick, billowing smoke that was rising out of the oncoming scene of Hob's Bay. Turning onto the next exit, Lois wordlessly stepped on the gas and started making her way past a growing volume of traffic ahead. As Jimmy started clinging on for dear life, Clark simply looked back down at the phone, hoping that neither of them would dwell on what he'd just said. One of the biggest problems with working at a news media company was the fact that he'd expressly told himself not to be noticed. Getting excited and trying to make connections this early seemed to betray that rather crucial goal.

"Alright, gameplan. Jimmy, I'm gonna need some exterior shots. Crowds, site of the explosion, police presence. The works. That'll give me enough time to charm my way into a few on-camera interviews. See if any factory workers know what's going on. Any cops with a DPNN+ subscription would be a bonus."

Olsen raised his oversized DPNN-branded ENG camera onto his lap, wrapping the strap over his shoulder. "Easy-peasy. What about Clark? What do you need him to do?"

"Who?"

Jimmy and Clark looked at eachother. "...Intern?"

"Oh. Right."

Coming to a stop under an overpass as soon as it became clear that there was too much traffic to circumvent without going on foot, Lois looked back at the man from over her shoulder, struggling to come up with anything. Even if he didn't say it, Clark didn't take it personally. After all, she hadn't anticipated bringing him along, much less giving him firm directions on how to approach his first-ever stab at fieldwork. Even if Lois seemed abrasive on the surface, it was clear that she had simply never worked within the confines of a group beyond her and one other person - likely Jimmy, who seemed to have a genuine rapport with her. It was probably just the mode in which she was used to working.

"Look, no offense, but this could be dangerous. With one explosion, there's always the chance that another could go off if it hasn't already. And the last thing Olsen or I need is a tagalong to complicate things. So I'm just gonna say that for this one, stay in the car. Keep a lookout and call one of us if you see anything. Maybe call the office if we're not back in an hour. I don't know."

She had tried her best not to sound condescending, but Lois wasn't sure if she had succeeded. Surprisingly, however, Clark was amendable to these conditions, giving a nod and going back to browsing his phone instead of trying to respond with any argument. Lois wasn't sure if she needed to be thankful or if she needed to roll her eyes. This intern was probably another millennial who'd rather spend most of his time behind a screen than be around where the action was. And if there was a type of person Lois could never relate to, it was that.

"Right. Good talk. Jimmy?"

"Lead the way."

As the two of them departed the car, Clark shut off the phone and looked back up, quietly watching them approach the crowd of onlookers being directed by police to avoid the ambulances. He sighed to himself, trying not to let himself get too wrapped up in the rising disappointment. It wasn't that he wanted to sit out the assignment - with his abilities, he'd actually be quite the boon to the investigation. He imagined that being able to see and hear through solid walls tended to be extremely useful to uncovering the truth about the origins of an explosion. But then, he also saw the crowd that was still building ahead.

All of those people. They were each potential witnesses if he made a wrong move, or did even the slightest thing out of the ordinary. They'd accuse him of being a mutant, even though it had been clear for years that something else was the cause of these things he could do. And such prejudices weren't just going to go away overnight because he happened to be of a different origin - none of the detractors cared about where mutants themselves came from, much less the fact that they were just people trying to live their lives.

So however the times had changed and whatever the modern public claimed to be in regards to their level of tolerance, Clark was almost certain that the only thing his powers were to be met with was paranoia and fear. And having to face that every day for the rest of his life was the last thing in the world that he wanted.

Despite what Lois had said before, some things were just worth keeping hidden.

---

From within the still-smoking ruins of the Hob's Bay Luthorcorp Processing Plant, something had awoken.

Firefighters were still inside, tasked with containing the resulting fires that had sprung up after the explosion had leveled the East Sector's wall, sending a few of the plant's workers to the hospital with varying levels of injury. A root cause had yet to be established, but that was for the forensics team still waiting outside. Paramedics had yet to come back for another sweep, either. The police initially seemed convinced that it was the work of one of the mutant workers, a janitor named Jones, but his records had been pulled and the CCTV footage confirmed that he wasn't anywhere near the East Sector at the time. Not to mention that he was on Luthorcorp's own pharmaceutical cocktail of mutant inhibitors.

No, it had been something else entirely. And it started, of all places, in the bowels of the server room. A few lines of code that had been coming in through wireless signals, were unnoticed and seemingly harmless. They hadn't even tripped Luthorcorp's significantly advanced firewalls, they were so minuscule. But whenever this innocuous data had reached a specific point beyond the public facade of the plant, to a massive testing lab sitting several feet below the manufacturing floor that hadn't been on any official records, that was when something had stirred to life. Lights began to flicker in the halls beneath. The whirring of machinery had gradually begun to whine in the distance. Before anyone had even noticed, several large objects had even started moving.

As it turned out, Luthorcorp had been holding onto a secret.

A secret that was moments away from spilling out onto the streets.

"...pppl... peple..."

"...people o-o-of... Me-Me-Metropolis..."

"...pEoPlE oF mEtRoPoLiS..."

@Master Bruce

Congrats or sorry that happened to you, but I ain't reading all of that.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Took a while, but the first post for Jonah/Ghost Rider is up. It, uhh, ended up being a good bit darker than I initially thought. Lemme know if it's too much, and I'll revise.

@AndyC

Want it darker, we kill the flame.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Application for my second character! Been thinking over this one for a few days now hope it's cool! I was thinking of having him have partial memory loss from the centuries of hibernation at the start of the RP.

Chivalry's not dead

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

B L A C K K N I G H T

---

^{"A thousand years and still chasing shadows."}

^{_{D U N C A N W H I T M A N ♦ K N I G H T ♦ T R A N S I E N T}}

O R I G I N S:

---

Long ago, legends were written about what could be considered one of the first superteams: the legends of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. One character who is often omitted from these tales of heroism is the Black Knight. Duncan was a close friend and ally of Arthur and his knights, but he struggled endlessly with his past and the curse of the Ebony Blade. He was born in the late 5th century, the son of a bandit in the Scottish Highlands who, through much strife and combat, grew into a knight-errant serving under the grace and command of Arthur.

Merlin bestowed upon him the Ebony Blade—a sword forged from a meteorite and imbued with both immense power and a terrible curse. The blade granted him enhanced strength and unmatched combat prowess but at the cost of a growing bloodlust and insanity that threatened to consume him the more unnecessary blood was spilled using the weapon. The curse only grew after he bested death in a duel of wits and became immortal after falling during battle. After the fall of Camelot and the death of King Arthur at the hands of the villainous Mordred, Duncan became a wandering knight, fighting to uphold the ideals of chivalry even as the world around him descended into chaos. He hunted Mordred across the land, seeking vengeance for his fallen master. Fearing that the curse would eventually turn him into a force of destruction, Merlin placed him into an enchanted sleep after his battle with Mordred, hoping that time would dull the blade’s influence.

Duncan slept for over a millennium until the emergence of new heroes—and the return of his old nemesis, Mordred—awakened him. Now, in the modern era, he must navigate a world that has long forgotten the age of knights and sorcery, all while battling the darkness within him and the evils that have returned to plague humanity.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

The cold moon looked down upon the vast desert, a barren wasteland that seemed to stretch into eternity. Duncan Whitman, the Black Knight, trudged through the endless expanse, his armor dull with dust and battle scars, yet still a symbol of the honor he struggled to cling to. He wished endlessly he had Valinor with him. His steed would have provided much-needed company on the journey and made it far easier on his feet. But Valinor was gone, gone like everything he cared about. The Ebony Blade at his side thrummed with dark energy, its curse growing stronger as it vibrated with the souls it had taken. Duncan felt a million voices in his head telling him to kill. But for now, its hunger was directed toward one man—Mordred.

The traitor had fled across the land, ever since the day he plunged Britain into chaos with the death of King Arthur. Duncan had pursued him tirelessly, driven by a vow to avenge his fallen king and to rid the world of Mordred’s treachery. Now, at last, he had cornered the villain in this forsaken desert, far from the green hills of Camelot.

In the distance, a figure emerged from the swirling sands, clad in dark robes that fluttered in the hot wind. Mordred. His eyes glowed with malevolent power, and a twisted grin spread across his face as he saw Duncan approaching. The two men stared at each other, their shared history palpable in the charged air between them.

“Duncan Whitman,” Mordred called out, his voice echoing across the dunes, “Loyal to the end, I see. Even in this wasteland, you cling to the dead king’s ideals.”

Duncan stopped in his tracks, his hand resting on the hilt of the Ebony Blade, the dark metal cool against his palm. “You took everything from me, Mordred,” he replied, his voice a low, controlled growl. “From all of us. This ends now.”

Mordred laughed, a cold, hollow sound that sent a shiver down Duncan’s spine. “Foolish knight. Do you think a cursed blade will save you? Or have you already succumbed to its darkness?”

With a snarl, Duncan drew the Ebony Blade from its scabbard, the weapon gleaming ominously in the moonlight. It seemed to drip with red energy like blood. As the energy hit the sand below, it sizzled and steamed into the night. The air around them seemed to hum with anticipation, the very land sensing the clash that was about to unfold. “The blade will do what it was forged to do—end your wretched life.”

Without another word, Duncan charged forward, his boots kicking up sand as he closed the distance between them. Mordred responded with a wave of his hand, summoning a surge of dark magic that crackled through the air like lightning. Duncan raised the Ebony Blade, its cursed power absorbing the magic, deflecting the energy away as he pressed his attack. Mordred’s hands drew back and shot forward once more as more dark energy shot out at Duncan. The sword was doing its best, but sparks of lightning began arcing around the blade and burning his face. All he could smell was blood and burnt hair as the unkempt beard he hadn't bothered to shave in his pursuit began burning.

He closed in on Mordred, the evil son of a good king, drawing his own blade and blocking a downward swing from Duncan at the last moment. Duncan's eyes glanced down at the blade, and a mixture of shock and anger tore through his body as he shouted,
"You would desecrate your own father's corpse? Steal Excalibur? Thieving pilferer, have you no shame?"

Mordred's lips curled into a sneer "Shame is for the weak and the foolish, Whitman. I have claimed my birthright."

They pulled their blades away and swung again, locking them against each other. The darkness of the desert was only illuminated by the stars and the pure light of Excalibur clashing against the dark aura of the Ebony Blade, creating a spectacle of sparks. The air around them sizzled with energy, the very ground trembling beneath their feet.

Mordred laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "And what of your own blade, Black Knight? A cursed weapon that feeds on blood. Are you so different from me?"

Duncan's jaw tightened. The whispers of the Ebony Blade grew louder, urging him to unleash its full potential, to end Mordred once and for all. But he knew the cost. He pulled his blade back again, sending a kick to Mordred's midsection that sent him stumbling back. Duncan regained a high guard, holding his blade along his left forearm with his right hand as he and Mordred stalked in circles around each other like two lions. Duncan felt the weight of exhaustion pressing upon him. The long journey through the desert, combined with the draining effects of the Ebony Blade, had sapped his strength. Yet, he couldn't falter. Not now.

Mordred charged him, and Duncan parried, thrusting his sword forward and plunging it into Mordred's shoulder. His success was marked with a painful yelp from Mordred, but also a vicious downward swing from Excalibur. Duncan reacted quickly; the sword was firmly lodged in his opponent’s shoulder and wouldn't budge. He held his hand up to block the path of the holy blade, and it embedded itself into his hand, causing Duncan to shout in equal parts anger and pain.

His eyes met Mordred's with a fury the dark wizard had never seen before. Duncan allowed the voices to overcome him. Arthur was dead. Lancelot was dead. Guinivere was dead. All that was left was himself and Merlin who had gone into a self imposed exile. Why did this treacherous knave deserve to live. Why did any of them deserve to live.

Duncan let go of the Ebony Blade and sent a brutal punch to Mordred’s jaw with his metal gauntlet, sending him tumbling to the ground, blood splattering across the sand. Excalibur was released from his grasp and landed point down into the sand. For once, Mordred looked frightened as the Black Knight approached him, his hand dripping with blood and his aura glowing with an overwhelming, black flame.

The Black Knight approached Mordred, tearing his Ebony Blade from the man’s shoulder. He could faintly hear him calling for mercy, but all was numb and deaf as he drove the cursed sword through his chest. He could barely think, his mind racing as he struggled to keep hold of his sanity. He watched as what remained of Mordred crumbled to dust and his robe whipped away into the desert air.

Pulling the Ebony Blade from the sand, he left a trail of blood as he stumbled forward into the desert. He fell to his knees and tore his helmet off, throwing it as far as he could away from him as he stared upwards into infinity. He began mumbling to himself.
"Merlin....Merlin....I'm so exhausted."

Duncan's voice wavered as he called out into the desolate expanse, his strength nearly spent, his spirit battered by the weight of the curse and the horrors he had just committed. The desert winds howled in response, carrying his desperate plea across the dunes.

A mirage appeared on the horizon, a figure emerging from nowhere, cloaked in robes that seemed to blend with the sands themselves. Merlin, the ancient wizard, approached with a grave expression, his eyes full of sorrow as he took in the sight of his once-noble knight, now reduced to a man on the brink of madness. His visage was shimmering, transparent. Merlin was a thousand miles away, somewhere Duncan would never know, appearing to him in one last favour to his plea.

"Duncan," Merlin’s voice was soft, yet it carried the authority of ages. He knelt beside the fallen knight, his hand gently resting on Duncan’s shoulder. "You have fought valiantly, but the curse of the Ebony Blade has taken its toll."

Duncan’s eyes were wild, his breathing ragged as he clutched the hilt of the sword, his knuckles white beneath the metal of his gauntlet. "I couldn’t stop it, Merlin. The blade… it’s consuming me. I killed him, but at what cost? I’m losing myself."

Merlin nodded solemnly, his gaze turning to the Ebony Blade, which pulsed with a dark, malevolent energy. "The blade was forged from the stars, imbued with power beyond mortal understanding. But with that power comes a terrible price. You are not the first to fall victim to its curse, but you are among the strongest to have resisted it for so long."

Duncan looked up at Merlin, desperation in his eyes. "I cannot control it anymore. Please, Merlin, end this… end me."

The wizard’s expression softened with compassion, though his heart weighed heavy with the decision before him. "No, Duncan. There is still hope for you, but not in this time. The world is not yet ready for what you have become, and you are not ready to face the darkness alone."

Merlin raised his hand, his fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air as he whispered ancient incantations. The air around them began to shimmer, a soft light enveloping Duncan as the magic took hold. Duncan felt a strange calm wash over him, the voices of the blade fading into the distance, replaced by a soothing silence.

"I will place you into a deep slumber," Merlin continued, his voice gentle but firm. "You will sleep for centuries, perhaps millenia, until a time when the world has changed and you are needed once more. Perhaps then, you will find a way to break the curse, to wield the blade without losing yourself to it."

Duncan’s eyelids grew heavy, his exhaustion overwhelming him as the enchantment began to take effect. He struggled to keep his gaze on Merlin, to hold onto the last vestiges of consciousness. "And what of the world, Merlin? What will become of it?"

Merlin smiled sadly, his eyes filled with a wisdom that spanned the ages. "The world will endure, as it always has. New heroes will rise, and the old will fade into legend. But when the time is right, you will awaken, and your story will continue."

With those final words, Duncan’s eyes closed, his body sinking into the soft sand as the spell took full hold. The dark flames that had surrounded him flickered out, leaving only the peaceful rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply in his enchanted sleep.

Merlin watched over him for a moment longer, his heart heavy with the burden of what he had done. But he knew it was necessary. The Black Knight’s time would come again, and perhaps then, he would find redemption.

With a final wave of his hand, Merlin summoned a gentle breeze that covered Duncan in a blanket of sand, concealing him from the world until the day he would awaken. The wizard turned and began to walk away, his figure gradually disappearing into the shimmering heat of the desert, leaving only the silent dunes behind.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.

@Half Pint

Well. Shit.

10/10. No notes.

Approve this absolute UNIT of a man right now, thank you.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

X - M E N
X - M E N

_{Location: 1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center - Westchester County, New York, United States of America}

Home of The X-Men #1.01: The Tour

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Firestar

"Be an X-men? Please. I don't even wanna be myself anymore."

Angelica's words during the multiple-hour long car ride back to the mansion was still ringing in Maximilian Eisenhardt's head. He was waiting for her to wake up, as he was to show her around the grounds properly. They had dropped in late, just in time for dinner. She had fallen asleep almost as soon as she was shown to the empty bedroom. Now, Max was sitting in one of the many studies, listening to the young mutants playing outside. The school day had started an hour ago, which meant they were currently out on physical education, almost certainly with Mr. Summers. He had already gotten dressed. Black dress shirt buttoned almost all of the way up, leaving the 'Appetite For Destruction' T-shirt underneath barely visible. The shirt was neatly tucked into his denim jeans, large metal buckle adorning the black leather belt. His brown ankle boots showing off the metal placed into the bottom of the show. He sat in the leather armchair enjoying his morning coffeee. One leg crossed over the other, his hands occupied by the bound book in his hand. Deeply invested in the topic of craftsmanship in regards to shipbuilding back in the 1600's. His cup of tea sitting on the armrest of the chair, the spoon gently stirring in the coffee with nothing but an absent thought in the mutant's mind. He heard the creaking of the floorboards from above, and he could feel the metallic wheels of the chair move around. The metal calling to him, in a way all things did. He was calm, at peace. McCoy wandered past the study, waving at Maximilian, who nodded warmly at his blue-furred friend.

"Of to prepare physics class, Doctor McCoy?"

"My, of course. Professor Eisenhardt. You know me, always punctual about these things. 9 AM, sharp. We are studying photons today. I shall amaze these young minds with an experiment using prisms to show them how light bends!" McCoy's face lit up behind those large wooden framed glasses as he spoke about it, a lesson had performed tens of times over the years yet never growing tired of. His tweed blazer, manchester slacks and as always, no shoes made his entire look entirely appropriate for a professor at a university, making one almost entirely forget about his beast-like appearance.

"You let me know when you're gonna teach them about magnets. I might know a thing or two." the two men chuckled dryly, as Hank headed over to the class halls, Max watching as a few of the teenaged students walked past, some waving at him, and he waved back in between flipping pages in his book. Down the hall walked Angelica, confused. Max put the book away, as he looked up at the newest member of this household. He stood up, dusted himself of and welcomed her.

"Good morning, Miss Jones. Did you enjoy your rest?"

"Enjoy? Man, I felt like I could've slept for a 100 years. Is being a mutant always this tiresome?" She asked, stretching her arm upwards as she yawned, Max couldn't help but let out a slight chuckle.

"And so much more, too." He only added, signaling to her that breakfast was hers for the taking, but she shook her head.

"Someone was nice enough to bring breakfast to my room earlier. He said I should thank you for the excellent pancakes and french toast."

"Blonde, tanned, about this tall?" Maximilian asked, raising his hand to a little taller to himself, indicating the man's height. Angelica nodded with a smile on her face. Summers would make an impression as early as possible.

"Very well then, if you do not need to eat, let us get started. Do you wish to take the tour?" She nodded. They began walking, towards the class halls, and towards the outside.

"Wow... this place is... Huge. I can't quite believe it. It also has this sort of... Vibe to it. It's like, really, really cozy." She noted, as two teenage boys ran past her, identical twins. They bumped into her a little, and hurriedly let out a yelp as the newcomer looked back at the two.
'Sorry!'
As her eyes found the boys, where she expected there to be two there were now eleven, identical, boys who had stumbled behind her. Her eyebrows raised, Maximilian wasn't phased at all, and something about his calm demeanor kept her from freaking out.

"Charles designed it to be the safest place on earth for people like us. I like to make sure it feels that way. Speaking of safe, boys! No running in the halls!"

"Sorry mister Max!" The eleven of them shouted, now on the other end of the hall, bumping into each other and bickering between the eleven of themselves.

"Oh yeah! Charles, wow. The uh, magnetism of that man. Is it true he really talked everyone out of nuclear war in Cuba back in the day? And got to meet Kennedy?! MY GOD, he's like, super famous! And he looks so good for an old man! What kind of skin routine does he use?"

Maximilian laughed as the girl got more and more excited, he also noticed the waves radiating off of her as she got into affect, her powers were indeed fully active.

"He does not like to take much credit for his actions in Cuba, but the world owes him a great debt - even if the world rarely wishes to see it that way."

They walked past the class halls, all nine of them, each large enough to fit 50 or so students, as well as the larger auditorium at the end of the hall, that had seating for 364 people. The size of the place had still not yet set in for the recently-discovered-mutant. Inside one of the class halls was an arts and crafts room, where Tabitha Smith was teaching four teenage students how to work with ceramics. She waved at the two through the window of the door, clay on her perfectly manicured nails. Angelica waved back as Maximilian greeted her with a nod, taking another sip from his cup of coffee.

"The teachers here are all mutants, usually previous alumni. Tabitha there handles most of our arts and crafts. Do not make a Swayze joke while she's working with clay, or you will get a fist full of exploding clay thrown at you." He smiled, finishing off his coffee that he placed down on a tray on one of the standing-tables they walked past in the hall. She let out a light laugh, almost out of courtesy for his rather dry joke. Angelica was enamored with the whole place, subduing much of her talkative nature. The polished flooring, the modern-function, but that classic, old-school feel to everything. She was truly amazed by the whole location.

"Do you teach, too?" Was all she could think to ask.

"I teach history, shop class and applied power theory for the advanced students. We don't really adhere to strict subject hierarchy like that. We work with what we're best suited for at any given time. What's important is ensuring our students learn to love evolving their way of thinking."

"Advanced power theory?"

"It requires a lot of thinking to learn how to apply your abilities. It's a lot of theory before you can put it into practice. It's also incredibly intuitive for us, as all owners of the X-Gene are extremely pre-disposed to being able to visualize their abilities. An almost inherent knowledge of what we can do. Theory simply helps us shape that intuition into specific application."

"Wait, our... powers, can change?"

"For instance, I started out simply lifting things with my magnetic powers. Turns out, magnetism is everywhere, we are all connected one way or the other. There is so much more I learnt to do once I started to apply well-thought out theory to my abilities. Humans understand this, too, even if they need additional tools to be able to connect with the world, and never quite as deeply as we can." As he demonstrated, he floated flat pieces of metal around, building different shapes, triangles, squares, figures, an X, and a DNA double helix, before turning the metal back from a almost liquid form back into the metal coaster it was before he elevated it.

"By nature of you not needing any classical schooling, you shall be joining the adults for their training sessions, picking it up as best as you can."

Angelica could barely comprehend what was happening, yet she could feel this rising sense of excitement inside of her.

They were reaching the end of the hall, Maximilian opened the door, the sun's warm rays hitting the two, covering them in warm light. She took a deep breath, taking it all in. The grounds were huge, she couldn't even see the end of it. As if he could read her mind, he confirmed.

"11963 acres, the whole thing. Larger underground, too. Come, I'll show you where the Summers is having physical education with some of the students." As they walked, Angelica could see the multiple areas dedicated to sports, children playing hoops, soccer and tennis. A wall to practice rock climbing, several large constructions of outdoor gym. A greenhouse and outside gardens, the man tending the garden waved and let out an 'Oi, max' with a thick Irish accent before going back to tending to the plants. Max returned the greeting. A beach could be seen further down where she saw some people swimming, but Max lead the two up a little bit of a hill.

"Here we are." Max spoke, as they crowned the hill, coming up on the western side of the property, where about 14 people could be seen, 13 kids and one adult male. The kids were all wearing gym clothes, as was the blonde man. They were all skipping rope, intending to run track around the grounds as the two other mutants came to interrupt.

"Yo, everyone! Take five minutes. Drink water, we're going back out to the field and doing another six laps before we're hitting the showers. Rehydrate, because it's gonna get warm out there in lap 3 or 4!" The kids groaned, but head to their packs to the side, in the shade. He jogged over to the two. Angelica got a little bit shy as the man walked closer and she got a closer look at his clearly attractive features.

"Miss Jones, this is Mister Summers, he teaches Physical Education, Mutant Defense as well as instructs on Danger Room exercises." Max presented the two, as he drew his attention towards the kids who were playing around, one of them coming and tugging on his arm to play with them. He walked away for a few moments, letting Angelica talk to other mutant.

"Please, Mister Summer sounds so formal. Save the 'mistering' for the Man of Steel over there. I'm Alexander, but you can call me Alex. Did you enjoy the breakfast? I don't know where he got the recipe from, but I love them. Especially with blueberries."

"Uh-Uh, yeah. Breakfast was great! What's the... What did he call it, Danger Room?"

Alexander's face cracked up into a mischievous smirk as he was about to explain to her what the Danger Room was, and how he was a reoccuring part of the little extracurricular activities certain members of the school engaged in. However, he was interrupted, much like Max showing the children some party trick with magnetism, as a loud, sonic boom was heard above in the sky. Then another, and another. Something was coming towards them. Or, rather. Someone.

A yell was heard.

"AAAAHHH" As the yelling object hit the ground, some 100 meters away from the class, the impact tore up the lawn, debris and grass flying everywhere. The crash so loud it shook the windows of the mansion several hundreds of meters away. Skidding for a good 80 meters before coming to a stop, leaving a crater. Maximilian, Alexander, Angelica and some of the kids rushed over. Max dashed into the crater, revealing 14 year old Andrew Pulaski. Crying from the pain of the impact.

Max put him over his lap as he gently held the boy, assessing the damage from the epic crash.

"You'll be fine, my boy. Summers, grab the first aid kit!" He went from calm to commanding as he called out to his companion, who ran swiftly to where the packs were, Angelica following him, knowing little else what to do.

"On it!" Alex responded. Once they arrived, he was incredibly quick about grabbing the kit, and chucking a bottle of water and a couple of towels to Angelica to bring, before the two rushed back.

Max noticed bleeding from the boy's palms, forearms, elbows, forehead and knees.

"Oww! That hurts!" The boy yelped, Max reassuring him that it was all gonna be okay. His right hand on the boy's back, holding him stead over his own knee, his left hand passed over the boy, the electromagnetic waves moving around the flesh, revealing that the boy in his mach-2 tumble that in fact not broken any bones, all of his abrasions were surface level and would heal in a couple of days. The bleeding was getting more fierce, and Max's left hand was pulling together above Andrew, the bleeding stopping as the blood cells were held back from leaking out of his skin by the iron in the blood, allowing it to be pushed back to the exit point and enhancing his natural healing and coagulation of the wound.

"I was gonna set a new Record. Apollo, the world's fastest mutant! Dammit!" Andrew whined, Maximilian couldn't help but to chuckle at the boy's ambition. Handing the boy over to Alexander who applied bandages and other first aid, wrapping the boy's sprained ankle from the 100000 meter fall at supersonic speed.

"I'm sure one day, you will become the best of us, my boy. Flying high above, watching over all you hold dear. To get there, Apollo, you have to have days where you're more of an Icarus."

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

This is my villain era.

@Lord Wraith

Oh baby. You've always been the villain of this story.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<Snipped quote by mattmanganon>

Not entirely sure what this means

@Sep

Should've run, Iris, run.