And then there are those times when it SUDDENLY HITS YOU. A MAJOR FLAW in the logic of a detail in your story. You don't know how it didn't jump out at you before, and you sorely wish it had.🤦♀️🔧
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18 days ago
More than once I've stated a specific release date I've then had to delay for reasons. Now for the first time I've stated a delayed release I may have to retract it as it all just fell into place!😁
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21 days ago
Me: "I just can't wait to sit down in front of my computer and get to writing! I'm excited for it." Also Me (once sitting down and with no distractions around): ". . . .I just can't concentrate."
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1 mo ago
👀! Uh,well thanks for sacrificing yourself--I mean, clickin'! And reading if you did. Maybe I'll cross-post in the Gallery again -full text this time, no links. So no more sacrifices need happen😅
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Bio
It all never happened ~ but in your mind! It all never happened ~ but in your mind!
Aspiring Screenwriter. Imagination whiz jumping between many 🌎s. Self-taught Pic/🎶 Editor, VFX Coordinator & Mixer. Independent student of 🎞; ever learning.
'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me. 'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.
The Reality Is: It's getting me through.' The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'
The comic book world is such a rich sandbox! Perhaps none richer than the X-Men -mutations to mix, slice-of-life elements to turn into anything but ordinary -the lines are drawn but the colours exceed them ~care to embark on the eXploration with me?
*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into Fox Movies theme🎵*
Jean had been intending to search the facility for rooms unseen when she'd received Xavier's message about the injured guards. She'd changed course, but soon it became apparent someone had already had the mind to go check on them; a direction from Becker, possibly, following the radio disturbance.
Jean had decided then to return to medical to aid with the treatment of the guards when they were brought back. Besides a responsibility towards human life, she wanted to see what other damage the girl had caused and what she might further be able to infer about her from the guards.
Given her medical experience, she also didn't want to be missed. If she was going to go looking for places she wasn't meant to be, she wanted to be sure no one would be looking for her.
Ahead of that, however, Jean saw the director himself back in the hallways. She had tried to speak with him, but his impatience was clear despite his feigned accommodation -he apologized for keeping her in the dark, yet simply had too much to attend to after that mass technology glitch to go into anything more about it now. If she had spoken with Xavier on the details Becker had divulged to him, which it seemed she had, then that was really all Becker could say at this time.
He'd cited privacy again when Jean expressed wanting at least to know this girl's name.
The guards were back in the building at that point, being taken to the Medical Centre, and Jean had fell in line.
There wasn't anything of operative note from them, either, and as Jean assisted with treating their injuries, she'd reflected on the non-conversation with Becker. Jean preferred not to tap people's minds unpermitted, or without dire cause. There was more variance to this rule when it came to enemies, however, and Becker was giving off a certain vibe....She'd thought she might catch a stray thought. It was clear the safety of anyone who encountered this girl was at risk, and through extension the girl's own safety. They weren't sure what all she had planned -if escaping and existing outside the facility was the extent of it, or if she had something else in mind.
All that took precedence over certain privacy. The girl's and Becker's. However, Jean had found Becker's mind, your could say, shaded. She was sure with a little more time to concentrate she could see something through it, but that hadn't been afforded. She decided to try again after conducting her search of the facility. Gain an advantage by knowing more than he would expect and more of what he held in his mind.
The basement of Umbra Biogenetics had been conveyed as a place for old equipment; an office and research space no longer used since a new wing had been built two years ago; generally a place of no matter.
And that's exactly what Jean Grey had found when she went there now, for the first time.
She may not've found the hidden elevator shaft to the sub-basement, had it not been for the psychic signature she'd been following. An emanation which grew acutely perceptible from the top of stairs, and stronger with every step down.
Finding the shaft became a game of Hot and Cold, with the voice directing her taking the form of psychic imprints; like a handprint somewhere dust has settled.
The existence of this other basement in and of itself didn't register too strongly to someone who, back home, was used to having a hanger full with one or two aircraft at any given time, a war room, medical room and lab, an amplifier for telepaths, and of course where limitless simulations could exist in a limited-size room, all housed beneath your regular 18th century mansion. But the X-Men were open about it within their own walls. Their elevator opened onto a main floor hallway students may tread down in their day-to-day.
As Jean descended down this shaft, it was like walking into increasingly humid air; a growing weight pressing down on her perception.
When she came upon Ryder's room, it didn't feel like one where someone lived, but where they merely survived; the affect poignant. The psychic signature here, like no where else, added on an emotional weight. There was nothing more to be gleaned from this space. Jean moved on.
She next came to a research room, where her eyes moved over devices not unlike what were used above, or back at the X-Mansion, yet these ones felt deceptive in their familiarity. Jean flinched as someone with a headache may at a sudden noise.
Then she'd found the audio logs. . . .
While she listened, it was as though what they detailed came to life for Jean, at least in terms of the sensation she was experiencing; dialing up. But the mind working as it can when a person is concentrating deeply, or determined to finish something, the sensation was swept to the back of her mind until the point where it crashed back to the front, unable to be ignored any longer; the point when you realize you should've been paying attention to what your body was trying to tell you.
She managed to get out of the room, back up the shaft, to the main basement's stairs. Then she had to pause. Crouching down with a hand on the wall.
If the recurring experience before had been like psychic nausea, this was like being drugged. Any processing her mind had to do happened as though through a warped lens: the psychic signatures hanging in the air like pieces of broken mirror, distorting the room; thoughts from the people above freely entering her head, but coming as though from a malfunctioning radio in an echo chamber. Jean closed her eyes. Even her own thoughts felt disembodied.
Her mind shifted to Scott, her hand -in the psychic space of her mind- clutching the handle to "their door", yet it was as though she couldn't get a hold on herself -couldn't manipulate the handle to gain access.
And there was another...a certain sensation that had grown on her, within her, now feeling like cascading wind chimes drifting further apart. She could feel them still connected, still well, yet their sound was beyond her reach.
Opening her eyes, Jean determinedly stood up.
She had been hesitant to attempt stairs feeling like this, when someone else could be affected by a misstep. But she knew the sensations were all mental; she was capable physically. She just had to concentrate on her body instead of her mind for a few moments; had to get out of here.
Managing once more, Jean drew a breath at the landing; then made a beeline for her quarters.
At some point along the way, she vaguely registered Becker down another hallway -he probably saw her- but there was no way she could make a second attempt at him now.
Locking the door once inside her room, Jean drew more collecting breaths, but had to delay hitting the bed to first place another long-distance telephone call.
That done, she curled up with the distress of all she'd just learned and the disturbance of the lingering sensation: Her mind feeling like a PC made to process something it didn't have the hardware for, while other applications and programs were open. Its performance so hampered that even everyday tasks were met with a stall; impossible for anything to get done prior to a reboot.
Jean knew she wouldn't be able to communicate with Xavier or Scott until then.
While both bodies experienced the startle reflex, and both heads turned in her direction, the girl hadn't exactly achieved her intended effect. Alert described Cyclops and Professor Xavier's present state rather than scared. The two sitting watchfully, yet still.
Xavier even answered calmly. "I'm pleased to see you're still lively. In truth he knew she shouldn't be exerting herself, but he would follow her lead for the moment. As for where we came from, that would be a school I run in North America, for gifted young people such as yourself. I have made it my life's work to help those with strong powers out of troubled circumstances. As I once did for my friend here, Scott Summers." He gestured towards him, thinking it may help this young mutant to know that the two before her had, perhaps, some level of understanding on what she was going through. "He now assists me in the running of the school, and along with a select group of my other grown pupils fights to protect those who require it. My name, is Professor Charles Xavier. Perhaps you could tell us yours?"
Cyclops was questioning Ryder's choice of destination. Why plan so long to escape Umbra just to return to it? If she wanted to flatten the place, it sounded pretty clear she could've done that already, when she had initially escaped.
He didn't buy it. Something was up. Either she was going there for a different reason than she'd stated -something she realized she needed that wasn't tech related; she didn't have remote access to? Or she wasn't going there at all.
It did occur to him that their mini-X-jet was parked some distance in a clearing of the forest beyond the other side of Umbra. Could she have figured that out and wanted to steal their ride?
His sense of direction remained acute, though the more they travelled the more he lost ground on Ryder. He had the impulse to hurry -- he still had the advantage of size and could take much longer strides than she. But he knew better. Hurrying in this terrain at this time of day would only serve to set him back even more.
That's when he felt the ground shake beneath him, heard a sound like something being ripped from the earth at the same time, then heard the first scream, followed by gunfire.
"What the Hell?!"
Things became oddly clearer some distance up ahead, and Cyclops registered it was because trees had fallen out of view. 'Is she uprooting the forest, or...?' For all he knew this could be another mutant. The worst case scenario was it was an innocent local acting our of fear.
More sounds echoed -- quieter and less directly than if they hadn't been in a forest, but enough that Cyclops had a sense he'd be coming up on some sickening scene -- then came the shriek. It brought his mind back to the parking lot when Ryder had been injured. He was sure she'd just been again. This was not good.
Cyclops did hurry now -- recovering his footing fast each time he lost it. Pain was swept aside as adrenaline flooded in. He needed to get to the scene before -- He froze. Eyes widening behind his visor as mangled screams replaced by something worse registered through his auditory system.
His basic human instincts said to stay firmly planted where he was, but the rest -his X-Men instincts- took over; charging towards danger being just part of the protocol. Moving on, he practically felt what he was hearing, as though his body knew what his mind couldn't possibly. Some distance away in two separate places, two others were feeling the carnage as well, though decidedly more viscerally.
She'd been making her way to them since the failed communication, sensing he needed her, and now, Jean Grey screamed, clutching at her head as she felt multiple minds die horrifically in succession, then at once. She didn't even realize she'd fallen until she made herself open her eyes -- going against her instinct to shut out the world by shutting her eyes; she needed to see the space of the world in front of her which was devoid of decimation. But it was no use.
She registered no pain from the fall -- registered nothing but the concoction brought on by her mutant telepathy and natural empathy.
Xavier had gone back to the roads, planning on influencing a mind just enough to have himself driven back to the facility. He had come across a few vehicles indicating the arrival of more townspeople without any current occupants, when he, too, felt the pain of cerebral death on repeat. "AA-AH-AHHH!" His hands, too, clutching at his head.
Separately, the telepaths fought through the pain as though physically sifting through the bodies to try and locate one in particular.
He couldn't be among them -- he couldn't be. The townspeople were bold, but not that bold. If the gruesome sounds coming from the altered forest weren't enough, the insane amount of gunfire certainly was.
They weren't joining this fray.
One, however, perhaps with the panicked thinking of 'is it following me?!', perhaps by sheer accident, or perhaps getting off a calculated shot before turning tail to collect their quarry another day, fired off another of those enhanced net guns.
This one did ensnare Cyclops, who went down painfully, an unsettling warmth bubbling out in all the places where he'd been shot before by Ryder, indicative of the stitching and packing no longer holding. Only he wasn't registering that just now. He had something else to worry about.
The netting had managed to bind one hand tightly in the very position required for his visor to engage. After a few scarce seconds of blasting apart the earth Cyclops shut his eyes, having to act blind until he could extricate his hand.
The good news was: he had blasted apart some of the net, as well.
The bad news was: the blasting of the already disturbed earth saw to the felling of another tree.
It CRASHED down onto another, branches breaking. A thick one SLAMMING into an incline below -- one Cyclops had only minutes before came down in a scarcely controlled skid -- the branch now careening down it.
If that branch had merely rolled from the higher elevation, he could've heard it and blasted it away. As it came with the noise of coniferous impact and breakage, however, he couldn't sort out what he was hearing in time.
Cyclops had managed to stand up. This was one time he should've stayed down.
A yell was cut off as the air rushed out of his lungs -- the branch had slammed into him -- slammed him back into the thick trunk of another tree, and a series of tell-tale CRRRKKKKHHs resounded.
The branch fell away and so did he, finding himself in a lethal cycle --body desperate for air, but every breath CUT, the pain SEARED, breathing felt perversely like the absolute WRONG thing to do --that he would tear his lungs to ribbons if he expanded them against his splintered chest.
But he was so in need.
He lay literally gasping for his life.
His mind clouded over....
And as it would happen, so did the surrounding area.
Fog permeated the woods so if any foolhardy or militant souls were left, they'd be absolutely blind. The fog was oddly sectional, however, and where bodies lay it was clearer.
Cyclops, no longer blasting, had a vague, visual registration of the scene before his faculties fell further away.
....Jean. He'd thought of her. He'd seen her.... No. She shouldn't have been there. No where near this. He felt his lungs fill with a breath he hadn't taken. They filled gradually, deeply, painfully. Yet they didn't shred. Another... ...Familiar lips on his.
* * * * Three Weeks Later
"I still say, it doesn't matter who she is. That scene in the forest looked like a scene I would've left. Only worse. I know how you two feel about this sorta' thing, but you let Xavier put blocks in your mind when your power was only considered too dangerous. I mean come on -Scott was nearly among those in the pile out there." concluded the gruff voice of Wolverine.
Jean didn't need to be reminded -of the scene or how close she came to losing Scott. Truly his only saving grace might've been that he hadn't been right there when it all went down; there was no entertaining the idea that Ryder would've discriminated. "That carnage was a reactionary result," Jean pointed out in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, "Ryder felt cornered. Threatened. She's been a lab experiment all her life. If either myself or Charles try anything in her mind, she might react on an instinctive level to the exact result we're trying to avoid."
"She's been unconscious. And the longer we wait the less she's probably gonna' stay that way."
"We're not waiting, Logan."
"Right. We've just been having regular round table discussions about how exactly we should act. Same difference."
"Not to forget, she may not be quite as unconscious as she's seemed," came the reasoning voice of X-Men's most hirsute; The Beast, "though, as far as we are aware, he has been proceeding without evidential certainty on the matter, Charles has been proceeding on that thought, none-the-less. So far the place hasn't come crashing down around us."
"So far. If you ask me, Chuck is too close to this to base anything around. . .At least he's sound enough on the subject to keep her in the Danger Room."
And so that's where Ryder had been since the X-Men arrived on the unspeakable scene and jetted her, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Xavier back to the Mansion. The Danger Room, some distance down the basement hallway from the Ready Room where the X-Men were having yet another meeting on the matter of "Ryder Xavier".
Despite Ryder's extensive injuries, she hadn't been housed in the Medical Lab for a moment. It was deemed too risky, especially as Cyclops would be recovering there. Not only was the Danger Room the most fortified of the entire building, being that the X-Men could train at realistic intensity, but the simulation technology it contained could also be utilized -and was- to make the environment appear more welcoming.
The very last thing they wanted was for Ryder to think she had just traded one captive situation for another.
They made the room look like one of the Mansion's bedrooms, complete with a window. That being said, they didn't want the gesture to be misconstrued as some ulterior motive illusion, and so they lowered the realism of the sim so it did appear, more or less, holographic. Ryder would be able to grasp her setting was manufactured, and they would be agreeable to changing it if she didn't appreciate their aesthetic.
They didn't delude themselves either --knowing full well once she was awake, it likely wouldn't take long for her to get a technic read on the place and be able to adjust the simulation at will. But at least anything she could do with it would be contained within this space. Beyond it, they had removed anything they thought she could use as a weapon, going analog where possible.
A return trip had also been made to Umbra within these past three weeks, with the intent to shut the place down. They were unable to locate Becker, and the only hidden rooms they found were the ones Jean already came across. But they had seen to absorbing the young charges into Xavier's institute, and had recovered some things, including -thanks to Beast's eye for advanced technology- a bit of the material the guards had had which blocked Ryder's powers. Beast had what amounted to an educated idea that's what it could do, anyway, and was currently in the midst of understanding it so he could do something with it himself.
In the meantime, Xavier had been making regular visits to the Danger Room to visit his daughter. And for at least the past week, he had been making mental visits, too. Even in true coma, a mind was still active where the body wasn't.
He took it slow. Like a new neighbour making themselves known in no greater way than merely being outside, doing things in their own yard. Smiling when they'd catch your eye, but not making an attempt to draw you into conversation.
Today, Xavier decided to knock politely on the door, as for the first time the curtains hadn't been drawn. He had been able to see a few scenes within the mental "house" -Ryder seemingly going over her days at the Mansion so far.
They hadn't consisted of much beyond what care someone in her state would require, which was mostly carried out by Jean both because, despite the odd sensations she'd experienced, they felt she was best suited power-wise to be in such a position -a decision Cyclops couldn't argue, though he felt uneasy about each time Jean went in- and because from what Jean understood from the facility, it never seemed like Ryder was dealt with by anyone but males. They thought Jean would feel like a less hostile presence to her. As well, Jean had her level of empathy gained from the knowledge of Ryder's life.
Her husband's discomfort notwithstanding, Jean took the position willingly and, truth be told, had made similar "visitation attempts" to Xavier's, from a place of wanting to understand this girl. Both her pain, and how she could manage the degree she inflicted on others. That scene in the forest was the very embodiment of blind rage, and Jean wondered how Ryder's mind was processing that; if it even realized. But she had been treading even more carefully than Xavier.
Xavier was cognizant of Jean "stepping" here, like noticing remnants of footprints on the sidewalk. He had to smile at this. Though, he didn't perceive she had gotten as far as he now had.
This apparent fact pleased him all the more.
Cool. Reserved.
Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, was often misunderstood as not caring when in fact he cared deeply. So serious all the time because nothing was a throw-away to him; everything mattered.
Chief among it all, Jean Grey. The center of his world.
She had seen something past his dour exterior, had been open enough to receive him that he could open up to her; show a side to her few, maybe only she, knew.
Had. Knew.
Everything was changed now. All of their history ceasing to exist in Jean's mind, from a series of seemingly insignificant actions which turned into a majorly significant circumstance.
Sometimes Scott felt his entire life was defined this way.
Four people climb into a cockpit. Strap in. Take off. . . The next thing he knew he was living as a brain damaged, unwanted orphan.
Three kids get into a fight. One never gets up. One can never go back. . . Next thing he knew he was a mutant, and that defined everything about his life going forward.
Was that why. . ?
Two X-Men undertake a mission. Patrol a sector. Cross an invisible line. . . Next thing, he was waking up in the Med Bay, his head feeling. . .strange.
And Jean woke up feeling he was a stranger.
She hadn't recognized the X Mansion, yet somehow had vague memories of Charles Xavier, and fractionally remembered the others. Ororo Munroe, Hank McCoy, Logan, etc. somehow she knew them, yet not Storm, The Beast, Wolverine -the X-Men as a whole, her place as one.
Was that why she remembered nothing of Scott Summers? He didn't know who he was if not Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. But with Jean. . . Was this proof he wasn't, in fact, anything else?
Taken with everything, that couldn't make sense.
Jean had no memory that she was even a mutant, but it wasn't as simple as saying she lost all memories pertaining to that, if she still recalled everyone else in some way. . . .none of them she would've met had she not been a mutant. Scott needed things to make sense, and so little of this did.
What had even happened? The other X-Men had been patrolling other sectors. No one saw.
They had to have been hit by something. . .
A subsequent probe of the area with Cerebro bore no residual signature of another mutant, no device had been located and with the aforementioned absence of signature, no one could've come to dispose of one.
. . .Xavier worked out they had in fact encountered something, something that existed on a psychic plain- explaining why Jean was affected so drastically and Cyclops, comparatively nil.
So what was it? What was this? Coincidental? Planned? Scott's money was on the latter, but then who was behind it? Was this their intended result? Or was there more to the plan he needed to watch out for. . ?
He sighed as he finished crossing the hallways. It was already taking a toll, what he had to deal with in his head. . . .that strange sensation growing stronger.
Which is why Scott now stood outside the presently closed door to Xavier's office. And the voices he heard inside is why he now stood paused outside that door.
Underway inside, rather, sounding like it had just concluded, was another of Xavier's psychic therapy sessions with Jean. So far there'd been no breaththroughs. . .it didn't sound like one was made this time, either.
. . .Scott couldn't help eavesdropping.
He was finding it difficult figuring out how to be around her now. Where to start over. Scott didn't want to get in Jean's way of remembering "herself". Desperate though he was for her to remember "them", he didn't want her to feel pressured to prioritize that. . . .Events had a sequence. It wasn't for him to jump the line.
That's what he partially convinced himself of, anyway. But there was also the matter of. . . . .
X-Men Envisionings: one passionate fan's riff on the FOX X-Men franchise. Call it a fanfiction, call it what you will, but don't miss out!!
Part 2of 2nd Edition Now Released! Part 3of 2nd Edition Now Released!
Have you ever watched Before I Wake? I don't tend to gravitate towards horror movies, but I checked that one out for one of the actors in it, and found it to be really cool, the way it all turns out in the end. It felt unique with like a deeper meaning to it than just "scare scream gore" (though again, for all I know, maybe that's not actually so unique to the genre).
Also watched some of Dr. Death last Halloween and was liking that. I've not seen The Shining aside from clips, and had a different impression of it than Dr. Death then lead me to; might actually check that one out sometime.
Location: Mansion - Sitting Room. Skills: Power Mimicry - Active Power: Flight
Being the listener more than the talker was proving once more beneficial; Jaclyn was learning more about some of her would-be teammates.
Max had been in another reality. That actually seemed normal for a magician, and potentially explained everything to do with his response to Ed; possibly other things, too.
Lance seemed something of a contrarian, though it was probably too early to bet on that impression.
Guin was crass.
At this juncture Jaclyn wasn't sure if that was just Guin, or Guin under stress. Stress had many appearances. As such, Jaclyn could look past how Guin was communicating, but what she was prompted a frown. As Jaclyn was shifting her attention between the speakers and the subjects, however, you couldn't really describe the frown as being at Guin, even though she was the cause.
Jaclyn was also picking up on a certain vibe from Max. Given his arrival earlier, it seemed clear he was here of his own accord. There certainly hadn't been any reception from the others so far that would imply he was invited here. Yet, it seemed he didn't want to be in present company, and not just because of the immediate situation. It was as though he was here by choice but would've preferred if he didn't have to be.
While she felt on the periphery of things, if such a distinction could be made Max seemed an outsider. Sometimes outsiders could see what those intimate with a situation couldn't....
She further thought his question on what the Blackbird could detect was a good one, and it felt like a small confirmation of what she thought she'd seen in Marygold's flames back on the battlefield.
In all cases, with the other answers going around, a clearer -a more settling picture was being painted, at least in terms of what they knew so far and what they were immediately doing about it:
The others had been taken to Magneto's Asteroid a.k.a. Genosha back-up.
The battles, a decision-making process on who would be chosen to live there, were also, as Pietro expanded upon -to Jaclyn's concern but which earned him a return nod- a potential "failsafe" to prevent those they absolutely didn't want from being there (which implied these test-battles couldn't simply just be skipped, which was interesting, but bias seemed to rule over "fair" selection).
The Blackbird, coupled with Guin's telepathy, would bring them to the others-
-they just had to be careful of defenses and such.
"Sounds like 'careful' is the leading word on this," Jaclyn seconded. "Besides the defenses for outsiders in general, we're likely to be seen as sore losers fighting back against the rules when they see us there." She smoothed some loose strands of hair behind one ear, then the other, which gave her the idea she better take care of any potential hair distraction now, lest any get in front of her view when she's doing something important; she went into her carrier bag for some clips.
Who's come to join the Hellfire Club?! One you wouldn't eXpect!
Minimum
Cyclops (me; other X-Men = NPCs, but open for discussion)
Mastermind
Emma Frost
Potential Extras
Any other Hellfire Club members
Got a fav canon who's never been in the Club but wanna' give it a whirl? Let's talk!
Jean Grey has vanished! More specifically she's left Cyclops.
He has no idea why, or where she went. He doesn't remember any details, only facts: she's left, without word or relocation. And she has their son.
He wants to find her, and presently finds himself at the door to the Hellfire Club, looking for Mastermind.
Several years prior, Cyclops, Xavier and Jean had concocted a plan to thwart Mastermind's scheme to mind control Jean Grey in order to get at the power he felt in her - Mastermind was imprisoned in a corner of the Astral Realm.
To add to the unknowns here, nobody knows how he got out.
Cyclops thinks there might be something to learn from this that'll lead him to Jean, as it seems his and her unique psychic link broke apart along with them. He wants answers. He at least wants his son. Mastermind wants Jean (again).
An unlikely, and potentially reckless alliance unfolds!
Or does it?
Skip this section if you're interested enough and are the type who would like to experience the revelations along with the character(s) of your choosing. . . . . Jean has not left Cyclops. And he isn't joining the Hellfire Club really.
The reality is, a few days ago Jean got a sense of Mastermind no longer being in the Astral Realm, and further that he would be coming for her again, this time with enhanced power of unknown degree and cause. Jean would be particularly susceptible to Mastermind's illusions due to a side-effect of her time as Phoenix in space. It would be serious bad news if he were able to infiltrate her mind.
So, Cyclops devised a plan, endorsed by Xavier but initially opposed by Jean, to essentially go undercover in the Hellfire Club to get close to Mastermind and learn exactly how his power has grown so they can further devise a plan to stop him for good.
To avoid Cyclops' mind giving him away, Xavier, Jean, and Cyclops himself (thanks to some "psychic kung fu" Jean taught following their initial dealings with Mastermind) psychically blocked off anything deemed a danger to have accessible, including the plan itself, and the false situation was planted in his mind by Jean. As far as Cyclops is presently aware, Jean having abandoned him is reality. Anyone in doubt of the validity of this who might probe his mind will find only several "broken doors".
Each night as he sleeps, whatever Cyclops has observed, overheard or otherwise got a sense of through the day, is "streamed" to Xavier via a "private channel", unbeknownst to Cyclops.
Five additional safeguards have been put into place:
If anyone tries to mind control Cyclops, he'll "hear the orders" but secretly "remain in the control room"; his agency is preserved.
While he doesn't know the true reality, certain "hidden imprints" have been left in a guarded corner of his mind, ensuring he drives in the direction they need.
Through a different "private channel", Xavier can "flip the off switch" if he feels, at any time, the plan has been compromised and Cyclops is at risk, restoring his full awareness.
To prevent any remote possibility of "piggy-backing", Cyclops and Jean Grey's unique psychic bond has been cut off.
Xavier has also cut himself off from Jean's mind. He alone has been entrusted with monitoring the operation and making all judgement calls going forward.
Concerns were put forward regarding Emma Frost: would she be able to detect emotions purposefully locked away? Would their mental safeguards be enough to guard against emotional manipulation? But Cyclops countered these, actually trusting Emma, given their history (see Additional Details), not to mess with him regardless.
None of the other X-Men have been let in on this plan. As far as they're concerned, Jean is missing and they have no idea what Cyclops is thinking.
In truth on Jean's part, she is hiding with her and Cyclops' son in a makeshift living space in the little-known catacombs beneath the mansion grounds, waiting until they can be reunited without worry.
In this universe, Emma Frost is an emotion-manipulating empath who works as a therapist, using her powers on her clients. Cyclops (unware at the time of how she practices) went to her for therapy years ago, when Jean had "died". Emma was taken by the fact that she couldn't manipulate his emotions; she found she couldn't access them. She was moved by the fact that he cared so much for Jean, it's like Jean held the key to his emotions (further exemplified by how his emotions returned when Jean-as-Phoenix was able to convince him to finally let go before she ascended*, which Emma secretly witnessed and later felt when Cyclops returned to Emma's office to thank her; her therapeutic words having finally reached him).
*A few years later, an equally unexplainable phenomenon occurred in that Jean "descended", and returned living as herself for quite some years; she and Cyclops got married, the aforementioned Mastermind-into-the-Astral-Realm scenario happened, they had their son, etc.
An instance occurred within this time where Cyclops learned of Emma's manipulation tactics. While he doesn't of course approve, he knows she had never manipulated him when he went to her, and though he doesn't know why, it has likewise left an impression on him. Cyclops remains one if not the only person Emma doesn't want to manipulate; even though she may presently be able to.
Hellfire Concept #2
Let's raise a little Hellfire!
This one is less a concept and more an impulse; anything goes, sandbox style. Let's just have fun doing Hellfire shenanigans-type of scenario.
Though if you have a specific Hellfire story in mind that could drive this, maybe something you've just not gotten around to RPing before, go right ahead and drop me a line! I love to collaborate.
Location: Mansion - Sitting Room. Skills: Power Mimicry - Active Power: Flight
Jaclyn was still taking in the conversation rather than contributing to it; she looked to everyone as they spoke.
Guin's comment about a set-up to some crossover meant to sell toys was appreciably amusing in the wake of things, Jaclyn had to smile a little. However Guin obviously wasn't chummy with this new woman, who, it seemed, had been Magneto's love. Now wasn't the time for wondering what went on there. Nor -though Jaclyn felt sympathy at this- about Miranda's kids she gave up.
Lance could've been less short with Max. Apparently Max was the one with some degree of relationship with Pyro, and Jaclyn could concur -even if she hadn't caught many words amidst herself being thrown around- that Pyro had been the most conversational among the Brotherhood. He'd sounded less malicious, too. Who knew? Maybe he would've opened up, especially as he lost now and no stakes remained.
But as it would happen, this Miranda had all their answers. Jaclyn listened intently.
Then, she spoke up - in response to Lance saying it didn't explain still why they were attacked: "It seemed like some sort of contest," she explained with her natural, calm disposition, "if Magneto had colonized an asteroid intending for it to be backup for Genosha, which was a paradise," at this she gestured towards Miranda, who had confirmed that's how it was referred to, "what happened with Genosha..." It was a couple seconds before she continued, feeling like a couple seconds of silence for the fallen, "Maybe this asteroid, now, is meant as a.." she couldn't find what word she wanted, "well, a preventative measure. Secondarily. If 'paradise' is threatened again, you'd want the best to protect it. That could be what these battles were about. Who could benefit New Paradise -or who wanted it- most." At that she shrugged. "Or -maybe and/or, the space is limited, and this was deemed a fair way to choose."
She had her own opinion on that which didn't need to be shared, and anyway, her attention was taken then by Carolina who came up with their game plan: going into space in the blackbird.
Some uncertainty crossed through Jaclyn's calm. She understood some of them had recently come back from space. She wasn't sure on the details as far as if it was another situation like this where they were taken into space, or if they'd gone of their own accord. Given the readiness in Carolina's suggestion, Jaclyn had the feeling it was the latter; in the least the blackbird had obviously been designed or redesigned for space travel.
So in that case, Jaclyn assumed they'd had some space training before that mission. She was still on Earth-level training. She had no idea about Max - it was his first day at the Mansion to be sure, but he seemed to have experienced a fair deal. For all she knew, some time in space was among those experiences.
If they weren't, however, Lance, Carolina, Quin and Pietro were formidable, yet, they had been among those not "chosen" - though the "winners" were presumably up there already, who's to say it wouldn't be a breaking-them-out situation?
In any case, Jaclyn was quiet again. For now. Whether she was expected to join them or not would become obvious, and she could voice any cautious thoughts then.
A dead end yields to the next avenue. Are the X-Men close to the answers they need? Find out in Part 7 of Volume 1: telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionin…
Location: Mansion - Sitting Room. Skills: Power Mimicry - Active Power: Flight
It was as though the battle she'd just been through had been recorded, and as Jaclyn lay recovering, her mind decided to play it over. Things she didn't fully process in the heat of the battle now had its time....Actually, Jaclyn wasn't sure it was what happened or if she was coming in and out of a dream while she rested.
It was all so bizarre....
What stuck in Jaclyn's mind clearly, however, was how out of her depth she had been. She'd been trounced.
She thought of the power display of everyone else on the team who'd been at the Mansion. Even though Max lost like she had, up to that moment he had fought awesomely - in the old sense of the word.
The mall-goers must've put up a similar display of deftness, as of the ones that returned, it seemed at least one of them had only "lost" by no longer participating in battle in favour of helping Pietro. Apparently the mall opponents were less bloodthirsty than the Mansion ones, as declining such a contest hadn't saved Max or Jaclyn from further pain - well, she couldn't have expected anything else from Sabretooth; now she knew Nekra was from the same camp.
So they'd all been the Brotherhood? Jaclyn hadn't registered that. It was actually something about this that made some sense. But only so far....The Brotherhood usually had some purpose to what they did. A purpose that didn't align with the X-Men's, but one none the less.
So the purpose here was selecting worthy ascenders to paradise? What did that even mean? And was it just them...?
Jaclyn turned her mind away from that problem - the more pressing one, for her, was her battling capabilities. Surviving on the streets hadn't prepared her for surviving in combat.
She stared out towards the patio as these thoughts went through her mind: she needed to broaden her ability pool.
She thought of the powers the others had used....Magic would require a conversation with either Ed or Max (or Neil) to understand in order for Jaclyn to practice it herself; she hadn't known any magic users previous to this. Not personally, anyway. She knew of Doctor Strange, but was positive he wasn't a mutant. But Max, Ed and Neil had to be if they were here, right? So she could mimic their abilities.
But of course Ed and Neil were...where ever those giant marbles took them. Jaclyn wasn't so sure about Neil's display of magic, anyway.
Max had been through a lot. Jaclyn wasn't sure it was the time to pump him full of questions, although, sometimes talking about ones skills could be a fair distraction. It was difficult to tell with people how they'd tolerate questions; Max was one who asked many himself though, so he'd probably be up for it.
More healers might've leveled the field a little.
But Jaclyn had actually set her sights on someone else, first. Nekra had had superspeed. Super everything, but speed was a big one.
If Jaclyn had had that. And there was a speedster recovering in this very room.
So the fact he lost didn't support the power as being all-useful, but she didn't know the opponent he'd been up against and regardless, Jaclyn wanted to understand that power. Speed was one of those abilities she understood well enough that she probably could manifest it already, like telepathy, but she had a mental hang-up about it. There were risks she didn't understand, or at least she perceived there were.
She needed to speak to Pietro. While he was recovering might actually be the best time, at least at this point of his recovery: Not so fresh he shouldn't be bothered, but at a stage when he had to stay still for a bit yet.
But the conversation was on what exactly was going on, and it wasn't the time. Jaclyn decided she'd keep aware of both his and Max's movements - like if they were about to leave the room - and talk to them as soon as she could. I mean they probably weren't going to get assaulted again right away -although, as X-Men, who could ever have such certainty?-but if they were going to embark on a rescue or reunion mission, Jaclyn shouldn't delay.
She even still had the fairy wings -presently folded flat against her back over her shirt (which she had made a couple couple slits in)- both for maybe some more practice -though her "flight muscles" were already feeling strained- but mainly so she wouldn't lock herself into something else before knowing what she'd be facing within the manifestation window.
A voice brought Jaclyn out of her own problem-solving. A voice that belonged to a new face. New to her, anyway. A quick glance around the room didn't reveal any other such curious looks. Not knowing who this woman was, Jaclyn wondered what specifically Professor Xavier had brought her in to help them with; information? Training? Both?
Jaclyn's attention was effectively out of her thoughts; she was listening actively.
[center][i][sub][h3] [color=slategray]It all never happened ~ but in your mind![/color]
[color=black]It all never happened ~ but in your mind![/color][/h3][/sub][/i][/center]
[center]Aspiring Screenwriter. Imagination whiz jumping between many 🌎s.
Self-taught Pic/🎶 Editor, VFX Coordinator & Mixer.
Independent student of 🎞; ever learning.[/center]
[center][b][i][sub][h3][color=#E5E4E2] 'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.[/color]
[color=#7393B3]'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.[/color][/h3][/sub]
[sub][h3][color=#E5E4E2]The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'[/color]
[color=#7393B3]The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'[/color][/h3][/sub][/i][/b][/center]
The comic book world is such a rich sandbox! Perhaps none richer than the [i]X-Men[/i] -mutations to mix, slice-of-life elements to turn into anything but ordinary -the lines are drawn but the colours exceed them [i]~care to embark on the e[i]X[/i]ploration with me?[/i]
[center][i]*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into Fox Movies theme🎵*[/i][/center]
[hr]
[b][sub][h2][color=red]Interest Checks:[/color]
[color=white]Interest Checks:[/color][/h2][/sub][/b]
[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/191820-deoxys-a-next-gen-x-men-comic-superhero-rp/ooc][b]DeoXys:[/b] A next gen[i] X-Men[/i]/Comic Superhero RP[/url]
[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/190866-a-cache-of-x-men-interest-checks/ooc][b]Cache of other[/b] [i]X-Men[/i] concepts.[/url]
[hr]
[hider=Writing Sample 1: from X-Men: GenetiX][i]Jean had been intending to search the facility for rooms unseen when she'd received Xavier's message about the injured guards. She'd changed course, but soon it became apparent someone had already had the mind to go check on them; a direction from Becker, possibly, following the radio disturbance.
Jean had decided then to return to medical to aid with the treatment of the guards when they were brought back. Besides a responsibility towards human life, she wanted to see what other damage the girl had caused and what she might further be able to infer about her from the guards.
Given her medical experience, she also didn't want to be missed. If she was going to go looking for places she wasn't meant to be, she wanted to be sure no one would be looking for her.
Ahead of that, however, Jean saw the director himself back in the hallways. She had tried to speak with him, but his impatience was clear despite his feigned accommodation -he apologized for keeping her in the dark, yet simply had too much to attend to after that mass technology glitch to go into anything more about it now.
If she had spoken with Xavier on the details Becker had divulged to him, which it seemed she had, then that was really all Becker could say at this time.
He'd cited privacy again when Jean expressed wanting at least to know this girl's name.
The guards were back in the building at that point, being taken to the Medical Centre, and Jean had fell in line.
There wasn't anything of operative note from them, either, and as Jean assisted with treating their injuries, she'd reflected on the non-conversation with Becker. Jean preferred not to tap people's minds unpermitted, or without dire cause. There was more variance to this rule when it came to enemies, however, and Becker was giving off a certain vibe....She'd thought she might catch a stray thought. It was clear the safety of anyone who encountered this girl was at risk, and through extension the girl's own safety. They weren't sure what all she had planned -if escaping and existing outside the facility was the extent of it, or if she had something else in mind.
All that took precedence over certain privacy. The girl's and Becker's.
However, Jean had found Becker's mind, your could say, shaded. She was sure with a little more time to concentrate she could see something through it, but that hadn't been afforded. She decided to try again after conducting her search of the facility. Gain an advantage by knowing more than he would expect and more of what he held in his mind.
[hr]
The basement of Umbra Biogenetics had been conveyed as a place for old equipment; an office and research space no longer used since a new wing had been built two years ago; generally a place of no matter.
And that's exactly what Jean Grey had found when she went there now, for the first time.
She may not've found the hidden elevator shaft to the [i]sub-[/i]basement, had it not been for the psychic signature she'd been following. An emanation which grew acutely perceptible from the top of stairs, and stronger with every step down.
Finding the shaft became a game of Hot and Cold, with the voice directing her taking the form of psychic imprints; like a handprint somewhere dust has settled.
The existence of this other basement in and of itself didn't register too strongly to someone who, back home, was used to having a hanger full with one or two aircraft at any given time, a war room, medical room and lab, an amplifier for telepaths, and of course where limitless simulations could exist in a limited-size room, all housed beneath your regular 18th century mansion. But the X-Men were open about it within their own walls. Their elevator opened onto a main floor hallway students may tread down in their day-to-day.
As Jean descended down this shaft, it was like walking into increasingly humid air; a growing weight pressing down on her perception.
When she came upon Ryder's room, it didn't feel like one where someone lived, but where they merely [i]survived[/i]; the affect poignant. The psychic signature here, like no where else, added on an emotional weight. There was nothing more to be gleaned from this space. Jean moved on.
She next came to a research room, where her eyes moved over devices not unlike what were used above, or back at the X-Mansion, yet these ones felt deceptive in their familiarity. Jean flinched as someone with a headache may at a sudden noise.
[b]Then she'd found the audio logs. . . .[/b]
While she listened, it was as though what they detailed came to life for Jean, at least in terms of the sensation she was experiencing; dialing up. But the mind working as it can when a person is concentrating deeply, or determined to finish something, the sensation was swept to the back of her mind until the point where it crashed back to the front, unable to be ignored any longer; the point when you realize you should've been paying attention to what your body was trying to tell you.
She managed to get out of the room, back up the shaft, to the main basement's stairs. Then she had to pause. Crouching down with a hand on the wall.
If the recurring experience before had been like psychic nausea, this was like being drugged.
Any processing her mind had to do happened as though through a warped lens: the psychic signatures hanging in the air like pieces of broken mirror, distorting the room; thoughts from the people above freely entering her head, but coming as though from a malfunctioning radio in an echo chamber. Jean closed her eyes. Even her own thoughts felt disembodied.
Her mind shifted to Scott, her hand -in the psychic space of her mind- clutching the handle to "their door", yet it was as though she couldn't get a hold on herself -couldn't manipulate the handle to gain access.
And there was another...a certain sensation that had grown on her, within her, now feeling like cascading wind chimes drifting further apart. She could feel them still connected, still well, yet their sound was beyond her reach.
Opening her eyes, Jean determinedly stood up.
She had been hesitant to attempt stairs feeling like this, when someone else could be affected by a misstep. But she knew the sensations were all mental; she was capable physically. She just had to concentrate on her body instead of her mind for a few moments; had to get out of here.
Managing once more, Jean drew a breath at the landing; then made a beeline for her quarters.
At some point along the way, she vaguely registered Becker down another hallway -he probably saw her- but there was no way she could make a second attempt at him now.
Locking the door once inside her room, Jean drew more collecting breaths, but had to delay hitting the bed to first place another long-distance telephone call.
That done, she curled up with the distress of all she'd just learned and the disturbance of the lingering sensation:
Her mind feeling like a PC made to process something it didn't have the hardware for, while other applications and programs were open. Its performance so hampered that even everyday tasks were met with a stall; impossible for anything to get done prior to a reboot.
Jean knew she wouldn't be able to communicate with Xavier or Scott until then.[/i]
[hr]
While both bodies experienced the startle reflex, and both heads turned in her direction, the girl hadn't exactly achieved her intended effect.
Alert described Cyclops and Professor Xavier's present state rather than scared. The two sitting watchfully, yet still.
Xavier even answered calmly. [color=#7393B3]"I'm pleased to see you're still lively.[/color]
In truth he knew she shouldn't be exerting herself, but he would follow her lead for the moment.
[color=#7393B3]As for where we came from, that would be a school I run in North America, for gifted young people such as yourself. I have made it my life's work to help those with strong powers out of troubled circumstances. As I once did for my friend here, Scott Summers."[/color] He gestured towards him, thinking it may help this young mutant to know that the two before her had, perhaps, some level of understanding on what she was going through. [color=#7393B3]"He now assists me in the running of the school, and along with a select group of my other grown pupils fights to protect those who require it. My name, is Professor Charles Xavier. Perhaps you could tell us yours?"[/color][/hider]
[hider=Writing Sample 2: from X-Men: GenetiX]Cyclops [i]was[/i] questioning Ryder's choice of destination. Why plan so long to escape Umbra just to return to it? If she wanted to flatten the place, it sounded pretty clear she could've done that already, [i]when[/i] she had initially escaped.
He didn't buy it. Something was up.
Either she was going there for a different reason than she'd stated -something she realized she needed that wasn't tech related; she didn't have remote access to?
Or she wasn't going there at all.
It did occur to him that their mini-X-jet was parked some distance in a clearing of the forest beyond the other side of Umbra. Could she have figured that out and wanted to steal their ride?
His sense of direction remained acute, though the more they travelled the more he lost ground on Ryder. He had the impulse to hurry -- he still had the advantage of size and could take much longer strides than she. But he knew better. Hurrying in this terrain at this time of day would only serve to set him back even more.
That's when he felt the ground shake beneath him, heard a sound like something being ripped from the earth at the same time, then heard the first scream, followed by gunfire.
[color=#0096FF]"What the Hell?!"[/color]
Things became oddly clearer some distance up ahead, and Cyclops registered it was because trees had fallen out of view. [color=#0096FF][i]'Is she uprooting the forest, or...?'[/i][/color] For all he knew this could be another mutant. The worst case scenario was it was an innocent local acting our of fear.
More sounds echoed -- quieter and less directly than if they hadn't been in a forest, but enough that Cyclops had a sense he'd be coming up on some sickening scene -- then came the shriek. It brought his mind back to the parking lot when Ryder had been injured. He was sure she'd just been again. [i]This was not good.[/i]
Cyclops did hurry now -- recovering his footing fast each time he lost it. Pain was swept aside as adrenaline flooded in. He needed to get to the scene before --
He froze. Eyes widening behind his visor as mangled screams replaced by something worse registered through his auditory system.
His basic human instincts said to stay firmly planted where he was, but the rest -his X-Men instincts- took over; charging towards danger being just part of the protocol. Moving on, he practically [i]felt[/i] what he was hearing, as though his body knew what his mind couldn't possibly.
[hr]
[i]Some distance away in two separate places, two others were feeling the carnage as well, though decidedly more viscerally.[/i]
She'd been making her way to them since the failed communication, sensing he needed her, and now, Jean Grey screamed, clutching at her head as she felt multiple minds die horrifically in succession, then at once. She didn't even realize she'd fallen until she made herself open her eyes -- going against her instinct to shut out the world by shutting her eyes; she needed to see the space of the world in front of her which was devoid of decimation. But it was no use.
She registered no pain from the fall -- registered nothing but the concoction brought on by her mutant telepathy and natural empathy.
Xavier had gone back to the roads, planning on influencing a mind just enough to have himself driven back to the facility. He had come across a few vehicles indicating the arrival of more townspeople without any current occupants, when he, too, felt the pain of cerebral death on repeat. [color=#7393B3][i]"AA-AH-AHHH!"[/i][/color] His hands, too, clutching at his head.
Separately, the telepaths fought through the pain as though physically sifting through the bodies to try and locate one in particular.
He couldn't be among them -[i]- he couldn't be.[/i]
[hr]
The townspeople were bold, but not that bold.
If the gruesome sounds coming from the altered forest weren't enough, the insane amount of gunfire certainly was.
They weren't joining this fray.
One, however, perhaps with the panicked thinking of [i]'is it following me?!'[/i], perhaps by sheer accident, or perhaps getting off a calculated shot before turning tail to collect their quarry another day, fired off another of those enhanced net guns.
This one [i]did[/i] ensnare Cyclops, who went down painfully, an unsettling warmth bubbling out in all the places where he'd been shot before by Ryder, indicative of the stitching and packing no longer holding. Only he wasn't registering that just now. He had something else to worry about.
The netting had managed to bind one hand tightly in the very position required for his visor to engage. After a few scarce seconds of blasting apart the earth Cyclops shut his eyes, having to act blind until he could extricate his hand.
[list]
[*]The good news was: he had blasted apart some of the net, as well.
[*]The bad news was: the blasting of the already disturbed earth saw to the felling of another tree.[/list]
It [b][i]CRASHED[/i][/b] down onto another, branches breaking. A thick one [i][b]SLAMMING[/b][/i] into an incline below -- one Cyclops had only minutes before came down in a scarcely controlled skid -- the branch now careening down it.
If that branch had merely rolled from the higher elevation, he could've heard it and blasted it away. As it came with the noise of coniferous impact and breakage, however, he couldn't sort out what he was hearing in time.
Cyclops had managed to stand up.
This was one time he should've stayed down.
A yell was cut off as the air rushed out of his lungs -- the branch had slammed into him -- slammed him back into the thick trunk of another tree, and a series of tell-tale [i][b]CRRRKKKKHH[/b]s[/i] resounded.
The branch fell away and so did he, finding himself in a lethal cycle --body desperate for air, but every breath [i][b]CUT[/b][/i], the pain [i][b]SEARED[/b][/i], breathing felt perversely like the absolute [i][b]WRONG[/b][/i] thing to do --that he would tear his lungs to ribbons if he expanded them against his splintered chest.
But he was so in need.
He lay literally gasping for his life.
His mind clouded over....
[i]And as it would happen, so did the surrounding area.[/i]
Fog permeated the woods so if any foolhardy or militant souls were left, they'd be absolutely blind. The fog was oddly sectional, however, and where bodies lay it was clearer.
Cyclops, no longer blasting, had a vague, visual registration of the scene before his faculties fell further away.
[i]....Jean.
He'd thought of her. He'd seen her....
No. She shouldn't have been there. No where near this.
He felt his lungs fill with a breath he hadn't taken.
They filled gradually, deeply, painfully.
Yet they didn't shred.
Another...
...Familiar lips on his.[/i]
[center]* * * *
[i]Three Weeks Later[/i][/center]
[color=yellow][i]"I [u]still[/u] say, it doesn't matter who she is. That scene in the forest looked like a scene [u]I[/u] would've left. Only [u]worse[/u]. I know how you two feel about this sorta' thing, but you let Xavier put blocks in [u]your[/u] mind when your power was only [u]considered[/u] too dangerous. I mean come on -[u]Scott[/u] was nearly among those in the pile out there."[/i][/color] concluded the gruff voice of Wolverine.
Jean didn't need to be reminded -of the scene or how close she came to losing Scott. Truly his only saving grace might've been that he hadn't been [i]right there[/i] when it all went down; there was no entertaining the idea that Ryder would've discriminated. [color=#DAA06D][i]"That carnage was a [u]reactionary[/u] result,"[/i][/color] Jean pointed out in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, [color=#DAA06D][i]"Ryder felt cornered. Threatened. She's been a lab experiment all her life. If either myself or Charles try anything in her mind, she might react on an instinctive level to the exact result we're trying to avoid."[/i] [/color]
[color=yellow][i]"She's been [u]unconscious[/u]. And the longer we wait the less she's probably gonna' stay that way."[/i][/color]
[color=#DAA06D][i]"We're not [u]waiting[/u], Logan."[/i][/color]
[color=yellow][i]"Right. We've just been having regular round table discussions about how exactly we should act. Same difference."[/i][/color]
[b][color=#4169E1][i]"Not to forget, she may not be quite as unconscious as she's seemed,"[/i][/color][/b] came the reasoning voice of X-Men's most hirsute; The Beast, [b][color=#4169E1][i]"though, as far as we are aware, he has been proceeding without evidential certainty on the matter, Charles has been proceeding on that thought, none-the-less. So far the place hasn't come crashing down around us."[/i][/color][/b]
[color=yellow][i]"[u]So far[/u]. If you ask me, Chuck is too close to this to base anything around. . .At least he's sound enough on the subject to keep her in the Danger Room."[/i][/color]
And so that's where Ryder had been since the X-Men arrived on the unspeakable scene and jetted her, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Xavier back to the Mansion.
The Danger Room, some distance down the basement hallway from the Ready Room where the X-Men were having yet another meeting on the matter of "Ryder Xavier".
Despite Ryder's extensive injuries, she hadn't been housed in the Medical Lab for a moment. It was deemed too risky, especially as Cyclops would be recovering there. Not only was the Danger Room the most fortified of the entire building, being that the X-Men could train at realistic intensity, but the simulation technology it contained could also be utilized -and was- to make the environment appear more welcoming.
The very last thing they wanted was for Ryder to think she had just traded one captive situation for another.
They made the room look like one of the Mansion's bedrooms, complete with a window. That being said, they didn't want the gesture to be misconstrued as some ulterior motive illusion, and so they lowered the realism of the sim so it did appear, more or less, holographic. Ryder would be able to grasp her setting was manufactured, and they would be agreeable to changing it if she didn't appreciate their aesthetic.
They didn't delude [i]themselves[/i] either --knowing full well once she was awake, it likely wouldn't take long for her to get a technic read on the place and be able to adjust the simulation at will. But at least anything she could do with it would be contained within this space. Beyond it, they had removed anything they thought she could use as a weapon, going analog where possible.
A return trip had also been made to Umbra within these past three weeks, with the intent to shut the place down. They were unable to locate Becker, and the only hidden rooms they found were the ones Jean already came across. But they had seen to absorbing the young charges into Xavier's institute, and had recovered some things, including -thanks to Beast's eye for advanced technology- a bit of the material the guards had had which blocked Ryder's powers. Beast had what amounted to an educated idea that's what it could do, anyway, and was currently in the midst of understanding it so he could do something with it himself.
In the meantime, Xavier had been making regular visits to the Danger Room to visit his daughter.
And for at least the past week, he had been making mental visits, too. Even in true coma, a mind was still active where the body wasn't.
He took it slow. Like a new neighbour making themselves known in no greater way than merely being outside, doing things in their own yard. Smiling when they'd catch your eye, but not making an attempt to draw you into conversation.
Today, Xavier decided to knock politely on the door, as for the first time the curtains hadn't been drawn. He had been able to see a few scenes within the mental "house" -Ryder seemingly going over her days at the Mansion so far.
They hadn't consisted of much beyond what care someone in her state would require, which was mostly carried out by Jean both because, despite the odd sensations she'd experienced, they felt she was best suited power-wise to be in such a position -a decision Cyclops couldn't argue, though he felt uneasy about each time Jean went in- and because from what Jean understood from the facility, it never seemed like Ryder was dealt with by anyone but males. They thought Jean would feel like a less hostile presence to her. As well, Jean had her level of empathy gained from the knowledge of Ryder's life.
Her husband's discomfort notwithstanding, Jean took the position willingly and, truth be told, had made similar "visitation attempts" to Xavier's, from a place of wanting to understand this girl. Both her pain, and how she could manage the degree she inflicted on others. That scene in the forest was the very embodiment of blind rage, and Jean wondered how Ryder's mind was processing that; if it even realized. But she had been treading even more carefully than Xavier.
Xavier was cognizant of Jean "stepping" here, like noticing remnants of footprints on the sidewalk. He had to smile at this. Though, he didn't perceive she had gotten as far as he now had.
This apparent fact pleased him all the more.[/hider]
[hider=Writing Sample 3: from Our Mind's Shadowed Hallways]Cool. Reserved.
Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, was often misunderstood as not caring when in fact he cared deeply.
So serious all the time because nothing was a throw-away to him; everything mattered.
Chief among it all, Jean Grey.
[i]The center of his world[/i].
She had seen something past his dour exterior, had been open enough to receive him that he could open up to her; show a side to her few, maybe only she, knew.
[i][b]Had[/b][/i].
[i][b]Knew[/b][/i].
Everything was changed now. All of their history ceasing to exist in Jean's mind,
[i]from a series of seemingly insignificant actions which turned into a majorly significant circumstance.[/i]
Sometimes Scott felt his entire life was defined this way.
[i]Four people climb into a cockpit. Strap in. Take off. . .[/i]
The next thing he knew he was living as a brain damaged, unwanted orphan.
[i]Three kids get into a fight. One never gets up. One can never go back. . .[/i]
Next thing he knew he was a mutant, and [i]that [/i]defined everything about his life going forward.
[i]Was that why. . ?
Two X-Men undertake a mission. Patrol a sector. Cross an invisible line. . .[/i]
Next thing, he was waking up in the Med Bay, his head feeling. . .[i]strange[/i].
And Jean woke up feeling he was a stranger.
She hadn't recognized the X Mansion, yet somehow had vague memories of Charles Xavier, and fractionally remembered the others. Ororo Munroe, Hank McCoy, Logan, etc. somehow she knew them, yet not Storm, The Beast, Wolverine -the X-Men as a whole, her place as one.
Was that why she remembered nothing of Scott Summers? He didn't know who he was if not Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. [i]But with Jean. . .[/i]
Was this proof he wasn't, in fact, anything else?
Taken with everything, that couldn't make sense.
Jean had no memory that she was even a mutant, but it wasn't as simple as saying she lost all memories pertaining to that, if she still recalled everyone else in some way. .
. .[i]none[/i] of them she would've met had she not been a mutant. Scott needed things to make sense, and so little of this did.
What had even happened? The other X-Men had been patrolling other sectors. No one saw.
They had to have been hit by something. . .
A subsequent probe of the area with Cerebro bore no residual signature of another mutant, no device had been located and with the aforementioned absence of signature, no one could've come to dispose of one.
. . .Xavier worked out they had in fact [i]encountered[/i] something, something that existed on a psychic plain- explaining why Jean was affected so drastically and Cyclops, comparatively nil.
So what was it? What was this? Coincidental? [i]Planned?[/i] Scott's money was on the latter, but then who was behind it?
Was this their intended result? [i]Or was there more to the plan he needed to watch out for. . ?[/i]
He sighed as he finished crossing the hallways. It was already taking a toll, what he had to deal with in his head. .
. .[i]that strange sensation growing stronger. [/i]
Which is why Scott now stood outside the presently closed door to Xavier's office.
And the voices he heard inside is why he now stood [i]paused[/i] outside that door.
Underway inside, rather, sounding like it had just concluded, was another of Xavier's psychic therapy sessions with Jean.
So far there'd been no breaththroughs. . .it didn't sound like one was made this time, either.
. . .Scott couldn't help eavesdropping.
He was finding it difficult figuring out how to be around her now. Where to start [i]over[/i].
Scott didn't want to get in Jean's way of remembering "herself". Desperate though he was for her to remember "them", he didn't want her to feel pressured to prioritize that. .
. .Events had a sequence. It wasn't for him to jump the line.
That's what he partially convinced himself of, anyway.
[i]But there was also the matter of. . . . .[/i][/hider]
[hr]
[center][b][i]X-Men Envisionings: one passionate fan's riff on the FOX[/i] X-Men [i]franchise.
Call it a fanfiction, call it what you will, but [u]don't miss out[/u]!![/i][/b][/center]
[center][sub][h2][color=#DAA06D][b]Part 2[/b][/color][color=#0096FF] [i]of 2nd Edition[/i][/color][color=#DAA06D][b] Now Released![/b][/color]
[color=#0096FF][b]Part 3[/b][/color][color=#DAA06D] [i]of 2nd Edition[/i][/color][color=#0096FF][b] Now Released![/b][/color][/h2][/sub]
[b]https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/envisionings-1-2nd-edition-part-3[/b]
[sub][h3][color=#DAA06D][i] Back and[/i][/color][color=#DAA06D] [i]better than ever![/i][/color]
[color=#0096FF][i]Back and[/i][/color][color=#0096FF] [i]better than ever![/i][/color][/h3][/sub][/center]
[center][sub][h3][color=#E5E4E2][b][i]Consider becoming an X-Envisioner yourself:[/i][/b][/color]
[color=#7393B3][b][i]Consider becoming an X-Envisioner yourself:[/i][/b][/color][/h3][/sub]
https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/seeking-collaborators[/center]
[hr]
[center][b][sub][h3][color=blue]The [i]X-Men[/i] continues to be this e[b]x[/b]cellent odyssey[/color]
[color=yellow] The [i]X-Men[/i] continues to be this e[b]x[/b]cellent odyssey[/color][/h3][/sub]
[sub][h3][color=blue] [i]Where ever it takes me.[/i][/color]
[color=yellow][i]Where ever it takes me.[/i][/color][/h3][/sub][/b][/center]
[center][i][b]X-Men Envisionings[/b], a sector of [/i]
[i][sub][h2][b][color=silver]TechtraColour[/color][/b]
[color=hotpink]Te[/color][color=chartreuse]cht[/color][color=cyan]raC[/color][color=purple]olo[/color][color=hotpink]ur[/color][/h2][/sub][/i]
https://trytrip3.wixsite.com/techtracolour
=================[/center]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="slategray">It all never happened ~ but in your mind!</font><br><font color="black">It all never happened ~ but in your mind!</font></div></sub></span></div><br><div class="bb-center">Aspiring Screenwriter. Imagination whiz jumping between many 🌎s. <br>Self-taught Pic/🎶 Editor, VFX Coordinator & Mixer. <br>Independent student of 🎞; ever learning.</div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#e5e4e2"> 'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.</font><br><font color="#7393b3">'The Reality Is: X-Men woke something up in me.</font></div></sub><br><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#e5e4e2">The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'</font><br> <font color="#7393b3">The Reality Is: It's getting me through.'</font></div></sub></span></span></div><br><br>The comic book world is such a rich sandbox! Perhaps none richer than the <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> -mutations to mix, slice-of-life elements to turn into anything but ordinary -the lines are drawn but the colours exceed them <span class="bb-i">~care to embark on the e<span class="bb-i">X</span>ploration with me?</span><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i">*cue 🎶X-Men Animated Series theme🎼swelling into Fox Movies theme🎵*</span></div><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><span class="bb-b"><sub><div class="bb-h2"><font color="red">Interest Checks:</font><br> <font color="white">Interest Checks:</font></div></sub></span><br><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/191820-deoxys-a-next-gen-x-men-comic-superhero-rp/ooc"><span class="bb-b">DeoXys:</span> A next gen<span class="bb-i"> X-Men</span>/Comic Superhero RP</a><br><br><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/190866-a-cache-of-x-men-interest-checks/ooc"><span class="bb-b">Cache of other</span> <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> concepts.</a><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="Writing Sample 1: from X-Men: GenetiX">Writing Sample 1: from X-Men: GenetiX [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none"><span class="bb-i">Jean had been intending to search the facility for rooms unseen when she'd received Xavier's message about the injured guards. She'd changed course, but soon it became apparent someone had already had the mind to go check on them; a direction from Becker, possibly, following the radio disturbance.<br><br>Jean had decided then to return to medical to aid with the treatment of the guards when they were brought back. Besides a responsibility towards human life, she wanted to see what other damage the girl had caused and what she might further be able to infer about her from the guards. <br><br>Given her medical experience, she also didn't want to be missed. If she was going to go looking for places she wasn't meant to be, she wanted to be sure no one would be looking for her.<br><br>Ahead of that, however, Jean saw the director himself back in the hallways. She had tried to speak with him, but his impatience was clear despite his feigned accommodation -he apologized for keeping her in the dark, yet simply had too much to attend to after that mass technology glitch to go into anything more about it now. <br>If she had spoken with Xavier on the details Becker had divulged to him, which it seemed she had, then that was really all Becker could say at this time.<br><br>He'd cited privacy again when Jean expressed wanting at least to know this girl's name.<br><br>The guards were back in the building at that point, being taken to the Medical Centre, and Jean had fell in line.<br><br>There wasn't anything of operative note from them, either, and as Jean assisted with treating their injuries, she'd reflected on the non-conversation with Becker. Jean preferred not to tap people's minds unpermitted, or without dire cause. There was more variance to this rule when it came to enemies, however, and Becker was giving off a certain vibe....She'd thought she might catch a stray thought. It was clear the safety of anyone who encountered this girl was at risk, and through extension the girl's own safety. They weren't sure what all she had planned -if escaping and existing outside the facility was the extent of it, or if she had something else in mind.<br><br>All that took precedence over certain privacy. The girl's and Becker's.<br>However, Jean had found Becker's mind, your could say, shaded. She was sure with a little more time to concentrate she could see something through it, but that hadn't been afforded. She decided to try again after conducting her search of the facility. Gain an advantage by knowing more than he would expect and more of what he held in his mind.<br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br>The basement of Umbra Biogenetics had been conveyed as a place for old equipment; an office and research space no longer used since a new wing had been built two years ago; generally a place of no matter.<br><br>And that's exactly what Jean Grey had found when she went there now, for the first time. <br><br>She may not've found the hidden elevator shaft to the <span class="bb-i">sub-</span>basement, had it not been for the psychic signature she'd been following. An emanation which grew acutely perceptible from the top of stairs, and stronger with every step down.<br><br>Finding the shaft became a game of Hot and Cold, with the voice directing her taking the form of psychic imprints; like a handprint somewhere dust has settled.<br><br>The existence of this other basement in and of itself didn't register too strongly to someone who, back home, was used to having a hanger full with one or two aircraft at any given time, a war room, medical room and lab, an amplifier for telepaths, and of course where limitless simulations could exist in a limited-size room, all housed beneath your regular 18th century mansion. But the X-Men were open about it within their own walls. Their elevator opened onto a main floor hallway students may tread down in their day-to-day.<br><br>As Jean descended down this shaft, it was like walking into increasingly humid air; a growing weight pressing down on her perception.<br><br>When she came upon Ryder's room, it didn't feel like one where someone lived, but where they merely <span class="bb-i">survived</span>; the affect poignant. The psychic signature here, like no where else, added on an emotional weight. There was nothing more to be gleaned from this space. Jean moved on.<br><br>She next came to a research room, where her eyes moved over devices not unlike what were used above, or back at the X-Mansion, yet these ones felt deceptive in their familiarity. Jean flinched as someone with a headache may at a sudden noise. <br><br><span class="bb-b">Then she'd found the audio logs. . . .</span><br><br>While she listened, it was as though what they detailed came to life for Jean, at least in terms of the sensation she was experiencing; dialing up. But the mind working as it can when a person is concentrating deeply, or determined to finish something, the sensation was swept to the back of her mind until the point where it crashed back to the front, unable to be ignored any longer; the point when you realize you should've been paying attention to what your body was trying to tell you.<br><br>She managed to get out of the room, back up the shaft, to the main basement's stairs. Then she had to pause. Crouching down with a hand on the wall. <br><br>If the recurring experience before had been like psychic nausea, this was like being drugged. <br>Any processing her mind had to do happened as though through a warped lens: the psychic signatures hanging in the air like pieces of broken mirror, distorting the room; thoughts from the people above freely entering her head, but coming as though from a malfunctioning radio in an echo chamber. Jean closed her eyes. Even her own thoughts felt disembodied.<br><br>Her mind shifted to Scott, her hand -in the psychic space of her mind- clutching the handle to "their door", yet it was as though she couldn't get a hold on herself -couldn't manipulate the handle to gain access.<br><br>And there was another...a certain sensation that had grown on her, within her, now feeling like cascading wind chimes drifting further apart. She could feel them still connected, still well, yet their sound was beyond her reach.<br><br>Opening her eyes, Jean determinedly stood up.<br><br>She had been hesitant to attempt stairs feeling like this, when someone else could be affected by a misstep. But she knew the sensations were all mental; she was capable physically. She just had to concentrate on her body instead of her mind for a few moments; had to get out of here.<br><br>Managing once more, Jean drew a breath at the landing; then made a beeline for her quarters.<br><br>At some point along the way, she vaguely registered Becker down another hallway -he probably saw her- but there was no way she could make a second attempt at him now. <br><br>Locking the door once inside her room, Jean drew more collecting breaths, but had to delay hitting the bed to first place another long-distance telephone call. <br><br>That done, she curled up with the distress of all she'd just learned and the disturbance of the lingering sensation:<br>Her mind feeling like a PC made to process something it didn't have the hardware for, while other applications and programs were open. Its performance so hampered that even everyday tasks were met with a stall; impossible for anything to get done prior to a reboot.<br><br>Jean knew she wouldn't be able to communicate with Xavier or Scott until then.</span><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br>While both bodies experienced the startle reflex, and both heads turned in her direction, the girl hadn't exactly achieved her intended effect. <br>Alert described Cyclops and Professor Xavier's present state rather than scared. The two sitting watchfully, yet still.<br><br>Xavier even answered calmly. <font color="#7393b3">"I'm pleased to see you're still lively.</font> <br>In truth he knew she shouldn't be exerting herself, but he would follow her lead for the moment. <br><font color="#7393b3">As for where we came from, that would be a school I run in North America, for gifted young people such as yourself. I have made it my life's work to help those with strong powers out of troubled circumstances. As I once did for my friend here, Scott Summers."</font> He gestured towards him, thinking it may help this young mutant to know that the two before her had, perhaps, some level of understanding on what she was going through. <font color="#7393b3">"He now assists me in the running of the school, and along with a select group of my other grown pupils fights to protect those who require it. My name, is Professor Charles Xavier. Perhaps you could tell us yours?"</font></div></div><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="Writing Sample 2: from X-Men: GenetiX">Writing Sample 2: from X-Men: GenetiX [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none">Cyclops <span class="bb-i">was</span> questioning Ryder's choice of destination. Why plan so long to escape Umbra just to return to it? If she wanted to flatten the place, it sounded pretty clear she could've done that already, <span class="bb-i">when</span> she had initially escaped. <br><br>He didn't buy it. Something was up.<br>Either she was going there for a different reason than she'd stated -something she realized she needed that wasn't tech related; she didn't have remote access to? <br>Or she wasn't going there at all.<br><br>It did occur to him that their mini-X-jet was parked some distance in a clearing of the forest beyond the other side of Umbra. Could she have figured that out and wanted to steal their ride? <br><br>His sense of direction remained acute, though the more they travelled the more he lost ground on Ryder. He had the impulse to hurry -- he still had the advantage of size and could take much longer strides than she. But he knew better. Hurrying in this terrain at this time of day would only serve to set him back even more.<br><br>That's when he felt the ground shake beneath him, heard a sound like something being ripped from the earth at the same time, then heard the first scream, followed by gunfire. <br><br><font color="#0096ff">"What the Hell?!"</font><br><br>Things became oddly clearer some distance up ahead, and Cyclops registered it was because trees had fallen out of view. <font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-i">'Is she uprooting the forest, or...?'</span></font> For all he knew this could be another mutant. The worst case scenario was it was an innocent local acting our of fear. <br><br>More sounds echoed -- quieter and less directly than if they hadn't been in a forest, but enough that Cyclops had a sense he'd be coming up on some sickening scene -- then came the shriek. It brought his mind back to the parking lot when Ryder had been injured. He was sure she'd just been again. <span class="bb-i">This was not good.</span><br><br>Cyclops did hurry now -- recovering his footing fast each time he lost it. Pain was swept aside as adrenaline flooded in. He needed to get to the scene before -- <br>He froze. Eyes widening behind his visor as mangled screams replaced by something worse registered through his auditory system.<br><br>His basic human instincts said to stay firmly planted where he was, but the rest -his X-Men instincts- took over; charging towards danger being just part of the protocol. Moving on, he practically <span class="bb-i">felt</span> what he was hearing, as though his body knew what his mind couldn't possibly.<br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><span class="bb-i">Some distance away in two separate places, two others were feeling the carnage as well, though decidedly more viscerally.</span><br><br>She'd been making her way to them since the failed communication, sensing he needed her, and now, Jean Grey screamed, clutching at her head as she felt multiple minds die horrifically in succession, then at once. She didn't even realize she'd fallen until she made herself open her eyes -- going against her instinct to shut out the world by shutting her eyes; she needed to see the space of the world in front of her which was devoid of decimation. But it was no use. <br><br>She registered no pain from the fall -- registered nothing but the concoction brought on by her mutant telepathy and natural empathy.<br><br>Xavier had gone back to the roads, planning on influencing a mind just enough to have himself driven back to the facility. He had come across a few vehicles indicating the arrival of more townspeople without any current occupants, when he, too, felt the pain of cerebral death on repeat. <font color="#7393b3"><span class="bb-i">"AA-AH-AHHH!"</span></font> His hands, too, clutching at his head.<br><br>Separately, the telepaths fought through the pain as though physically sifting through the bodies to try and locate one in particular.<br><br>He couldn't be among them -<span class="bb-i">- he couldn't be.</span><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br>The townspeople were bold, but not that bold.<br>If the gruesome sounds coming from the altered forest weren't enough, the insane amount of gunfire certainly was. <br><br>They weren't joining this fray.<br><br>One, however, perhaps with the panicked thinking of <span class="bb-i">'is it following me?!'</span>, perhaps by sheer accident, or perhaps getting off a calculated shot before turning tail to collect their quarry another day, fired off another of those enhanced net guns.<br><br>This one <span class="bb-i">did</span> ensnare Cyclops, who went down painfully, an unsettling warmth bubbling out in all the places where he'd been shot before by Ryder, indicative of the stitching and packing no longer holding. Only he wasn't registering that just now. He had something else to worry about.<br><br>The netting had managed to bind one hand tightly in the very position required for his visor to engage. After a few scarce seconds of blasting apart the earth Cyclops shut his eyes, having to act blind until he could extricate his hand. <br><br><ul class="bb-list" style="white-space: normal;"><li>The good news was: he had blasted apart some of the net, as well.</li><li>The bad news was: the blasting of the already disturbed earth saw to the felling of another tree.</li></ul><br><br>It <span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">CRASHED</span></span> down onto another, branches breaking. A thick one <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">SLAMMING</span></span> into an incline below -- one Cyclops had only minutes before came down in a scarcely controlled skid -- the branch now careening down it.<br><br>If that branch had merely rolled from the higher elevation, he could've heard it and blasted it away. As it came with the noise of coniferous impact and breakage, however, he couldn't sort out what he was hearing in time.<br><br>Cyclops had managed to stand up.<br>This was one time he should've stayed down.<br><br>A yell was cut off as the air rushed out of his lungs -- the branch had slammed into him -- slammed him back into the thick trunk of another tree, and a series of tell-tale <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">CRRRKKKKHH</span>s</span> resounded.<br><br>The branch fell away and so did he, finding himself in a lethal cycle --body desperate for air, but every breath <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">CUT</span></span>, the pain <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">SEARED</span></span>, breathing felt perversely like the absolute <span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">WRONG</span></span> thing to do --that he would tear his lungs to ribbons if he expanded them against his splintered chest.<br><br>But he was so in need.<br><br>He lay literally gasping for his life.<br><br>His mind clouded over....<br><br><span class="bb-i">And as it would happen, so did the surrounding area.</span><br><br>Fog permeated the woods so if any foolhardy or militant souls were left, they'd be absolutely blind. The fog was oddly sectional, however, and where bodies lay it was clearer.<br><br>Cyclops, no longer blasting, had a vague, visual registration of the scene before his faculties fell further away.<br><br><span class="bb-i">....Jean.<br>He'd thought of her. He'd seen her....<br>No. She shouldn't have been there. No where near this.<br>He felt his lungs fill with a breath he hadn't taken.<br>They filled gradually, deeply, painfully. <br>Yet they didn't shred.<br>Another...<br>...Familiar lips on his.</span><br><br><div class="bb-center">* * * *<br><span class="bb-i">Three Weeks Later</span></div><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"I <span class="bb-u">still</span> say, it doesn't matter who she is. That scene in the forest looked like a scene <span class="bb-u">I</span> would've left. Only <span class="bb-u">worse</span>. I know how you two feel about this sorta' thing, but you let Xavier put blocks in <span class="bb-u">your</span> mind when your power was only <span class="bb-u">considered</span> too dangerous. I mean come on -<span class="bb-u">Scott</span> was nearly among those in the pile out there."</span></font> concluded the gruff voice of Wolverine.<br><br>Jean didn't need to be reminded -of the scene or how close she came to losing Scott. Truly his only saving grace might've been that he hadn't been <span class="bb-i">right there</span> when it all went down; there was no entertaining the idea that Ryder would've discriminated. <font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i">"That carnage was a <span class="bb-u">reactionary</span> result,"</span></font> Jean pointed out in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, <font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i">"Ryder felt cornered. Threatened. She's been a lab experiment all her life. If either myself or Charles try anything in her mind, she might react on an instinctive level to the exact result we're trying to avoid."</span> </font><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"She's been <span class="bb-u">unconscious</span>. And the longer we wait the less she's probably gonna' stay that way."</span></font><br><br><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i">"We're not <span class="bb-u">waiting</span>, Logan."</span></font><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"Right. We've just been having regular round table discussions about how exactly we should act. Same difference."</span></font><br><br><span class="bb-b"><font color="#4169e1"><span class="bb-i">"Not to forget, she may not be quite as unconscious as she's seemed,"</span></font></span> came the reasoning voice of X-Men's most hirsute; The Beast, <span class="bb-b"><font color="#4169e1"><span class="bb-i">"though, as far as we are aware, he has been proceeding without evidential certainty on the matter, Charles has been proceeding on that thought, none-the-less. So far the place hasn't come crashing down around us."</span></font></span><br><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">"<span class="bb-u">So far</span>. If you ask me, Chuck is too close to this to base anything around. . .At least he's sound enough on the subject to keep her in the Danger Room."</span></font><br><br>And so that's where Ryder had been since the X-Men arrived on the unspeakable scene and jetted her, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Xavier back to the Mansion. <br>The Danger Room, some distance down the basement hallway from the Ready Room where the X-Men were having yet another meeting on the matter of "Ryder Xavier".<br><br>Despite Ryder's extensive injuries, she hadn't been housed in the Medical Lab for a moment. It was deemed too risky, especially as Cyclops would be recovering there. Not only was the Danger Room the most fortified of the entire building, being that the X-Men could train at realistic intensity, but the simulation technology it contained could also be utilized -and was- to make the environment appear more welcoming.<br><br>The very last thing they wanted was for Ryder to think she had just traded one captive situation for another.<br><br>They made the room look like one of the Mansion's bedrooms, complete with a window. That being said, they didn't want the gesture to be misconstrued as some ulterior motive illusion, and so they lowered the realism of the sim so it did appear, more or less, holographic. Ryder would be able to grasp her setting was manufactured, and they would be agreeable to changing it if she didn't appreciate their aesthetic. <br><br>They didn't delude <span class="bb-i">themselves</span> either --knowing full well once she was awake, it likely wouldn't take long for her to get a technic read on the place and be able to adjust the simulation at will. But at least anything she could do with it would be contained within this space. Beyond it, they had removed anything they thought she could use as a weapon, going analog where possible. <br><br>A return trip had also been made to Umbra within these past three weeks, with the intent to shut the place down. They were unable to locate Becker, and the only hidden rooms they found were the ones Jean already came across. But they had seen to absorbing the young charges into Xavier's institute, and had recovered some things, including -thanks to Beast's eye for advanced technology- a bit of the material the guards had had which blocked Ryder's powers. Beast had what amounted to an educated idea that's what it could do, anyway, and was currently in the midst of understanding it so he could do something with it himself.<br><br>In the meantime, Xavier had been making regular visits to the Danger Room to visit his daughter.<br>And for at least the past week, he had been making mental visits, too. Even in true coma, a mind was still active where the body wasn't.<br><br>He took it slow. Like a new neighbour making themselves known in no greater way than merely being outside, doing things in their own yard. Smiling when they'd catch your eye, but not making an attempt to draw you into conversation. <br><br>Today, Xavier decided to knock politely on the door, as for the first time the curtains hadn't been drawn. He had been able to see a few scenes within the mental "house" -Ryder seemingly going over her days at the Mansion so far.<br><br>They hadn't consisted of much beyond what care someone in her state would require, which was mostly carried out by Jean both because, despite the odd sensations she'd experienced, they felt she was best suited power-wise to be in such a position -a decision Cyclops couldn't argue, though he felt uneasy about each time Jean went in- and because from what Jean understood from the facility, it never seemed like Ryder was dealt with by anyone but males. They thought Jean would feel like a less hostile presence to her. As well, Jean had her level of empathy gained from the knowledge of Ryder's life.<br><br>Her husband's discomfort notwithstanding, Jean took the position willingly and, truth be told, had made similar "visitation attempts" to Xavier's, from a place of wanting to understand this girl. Both her pain, and how she could manage the degree she inflicted on others. That scene in the forest was the very embodiment of blind rage, and Jean wondered how Ryder's mind was processing that; if it even realized. But she had been treading even more carefully than Xavier.<br><br>Xavier was cognizant of Jean "stepping" here, like noticing remnants of footprints on the sidewalk. He had to smile at this. Though, he didn't perceive she had gotten as far as he now had. <br><br>This apparent fact pleased him all the more.</div></div><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="Writing Sample 3: from Our Mind's Shadowed Hallways">Writing Sample 3: from Our Mind's Shadowed Hallways [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none">Cool. Reserved.<br><br>Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, was often misunderstood as not caring when in fact he cared deeply. <br>So serious all the time because nothing was a throw-away to him; everything mattered. <br><br>Chief among it all, Jean Grey.<br><span class="bb-i">The center of his world</span>.<br><br>She had seen something past his dour exterior, had been open enough to receive him that he could open up to her; show a side to her few, maybe only she, knew.<br><br><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">Had</span></span>.<br><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">Knew</span></span>.<br><br>Everything was changed now. All of their history ceasing to exist in Jean's mind,<br><span class="bb-i">from a series of seemingly insignificant actions which turned into a majorly significant circumstance.</span><br><br>Sometimes Scott felt his entire life was defined this way.<br><br><span class="bb-i">Four people climb into a cockpit. Strap in. Take off. . .</span><br>The next thing he knew he was living as a brain damaged, unwanted orphan.<br><br><span class="bb-i">Three kids get into a fight. One never gets up. One can never go back. . .</span><br>Next thing he knew he was a mutant, and <span class="bb-i">that </span>defined everything about his life going forward.<br><br><span class="bb-i">Was that why. . ?<br><br>Two X-Men undertake a mission. Patrol a sector. Cross an invisible line. . .</span><br>Next thing, he was waking up in the Med Bay, his head feeling. . .<span class="bb-i">strange</span>.<br><br>And Jean woke up feeling he was a stranger.<br><br>She hadn't recognized the X Mansion, yet somehow had vague memories of Charles Xavier, and fractionally remembered the others. Ororo Munroe, Hank McCoy, Logan, etc. somehow she knew them, yet not Storm, The Beast, Wolverine -the X-Men as a whole, her place as one. <br><br>Was that why she remembered nothing of Scott Summers? He didn't know who he was if not Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. <span class="bb-i">But with Jean. . .</span><br>Was this proof he wasn't, in fact, anything else?<br><br>Taken with everything, that couldn't make sense.<br><br>Jean had no memory that she was even a mutant, but it wasn't as simple as saying she lost all memories pertaining to that, if she still recalled everyone else in some way. . <br>. .<span class="bb-i">none</span> of them she would've met had she not been a mutant. Scott needed things to make sense, and so little of this did.<br><br>What had even happened? The other X-Men had been patrolling other sectors. No one saw.<br><br>They had to have been hit by something. . .<br><br>A subsequent probe of the area with Cerebro bore no residual signature of another mutant, no device had been located and with the aforementioned absence of signature, no one could've come to dispose of one.<br><br>. . .Xavier worked out they had in fact <span class="bb-i">encountered</span> something, something that existed on a psychic plain- explaining why Jean was affected so drastically and Cyclops, comparatively nil. <br><br>So what was it? What was this? Coincidental? <span class="bb-i">Planned?</span> Scott's money was on the latter, but then who was behind it? <br>Was this their intended result? <span class="bb-i">Or was there more to the plan he needed to watch out for. . ?</span><br><br>He sighed as he finished crossing the hallways. It was already taking a toll, what he had to deal with in his head. . <br>. .<span class="bb-i">that strange sensation growing stronger. </span><br><br>Which is why Scott now stood outside the presently closed door to Xavier's office.<br>And the voices he heard inside is why he now stood <span class="bb-i">paused</span> outside that door.<br><br>Underway inside, rather, sounding like it had just concluded, was another of Xavier's psychic therapy sessions with Jean. <br>So far there'd been no breaththroughs. . .it didn't sound like one was made this time, either.<br><br>. . .Scott couldn't help eavesdropping.<br><br>He was finding it difficult figuring out how to be around her now. Where to start <span class="bb-i">over</span>.<br>Scott didn't want to get in Jean's way of remembering "herself". Desperate though he was for her to remember "them", he didn't want her to feel pressured to prioritize that. . <br>. .Events had a sequence. It wasn't for him to jump the line.<br><br>That's what he partially convinced himself of, anyway.<br><span class="bb-i">But there was also the matter of. . . . .</span></div></div><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">X-Men Envisionings: one passionate fan's riff on the FOX</span> X-Men <span class="bb-i">franchise.<br>Call it a fanfiction, call it what you will, but <span class="bb-u">don't miss out</span>!!</span></span></div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><sub><div class="bb-h2"><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-b">Part 2</span></font><font color="#0096ff"> <span class="bb-i">of 2nd Edition</span></font><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-b"> Now Released!</span></font><br> <font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-b">Part 3</span></font><font color="#daa06d"> <span class="bb-i">of 2nd Edition</span></font><font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-b"> Now Released!</span></font></div></sub><br><span class="bb-b"><a href="https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/envisionings-1-2nd-edition-part-3" title="https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/envisionings-1-2nd-edition-part-3" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionin…</a></span><br><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#daa06d"><span class="bb-i"> Back and</span></font><font color="#daa06d"> <span class="bb-i">better than ever!</span></font><br><font color="#0096ff"><span class="bb-i">Back and</span></font><font color="#0096ff"> <span class="bb-i">better than ever!</span></font></div></sub></div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#e5e4e2"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">Consider becoming an X-Envisioner yourself:</span></span></font><br> <font color="#7393b3"><span class="bb-b"><span class="bb-i">Consider becoming an X-Envisioner yourself:</span></span></font></div></sub><br><a href="https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/seeking-collaborators" title="https://telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionings/post/seeking-collaborators" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">telkjplang.wixsite.com/xmenenvisionin…</a></div><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-b"><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="blue">The <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> continues to be this e<span class="bb-b">x</span>cellent odyssey</font><br><font color="yellow"> The <span class="bb-i">X-Men</span> continues to be this e<span class="bb-b">x</span>cellent odyssey</font></div></sub><br><sub><div class="bb-h3"><font color="blue"> <span class="bb-i">Where ever it takes me.</span></font><br><font color="yellow"><span class="bb-i">Where ever it takes me.</span></font></div></sub></span></div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">X-Men Envisionings</span>, a sector of </span><br><span class="bb-i"><sub><div class="bb-h2"><span class="bb-b"><font color="silver">TechtraColour</font></span><br> <font color="hotpink">Te</font><font color="chartreuse">cht</font><font color="cyan">raC</font><font color="purple">olo</font><font color="hotpink">ur</font></div></sub></span><br><a href="https://trytrip3.wixsite.com/techtracolour" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">trytrip3.wixsite.com/techtracolour</a> <br><br>=================</div><br><br></div>
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