Sunfrog

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

There was nothing he could have said to make her heed his warning at that moment, so there seemed to be only one natural conclusion to their confrontation. His rebuttal of her accusations only left her with less respect for him as his self-righteous attitude became evident yet again but it wasn’t enough to anger her. She could tolerate most of his unfiltered ramblings until he had threatened her for simply trying to protect Clem, which was evidently not up to his standards.

Despite facing off with someone known to be more powerful than herself, she showed no sign of apprehension. She didn’t display any markers of feeling threatened by him, believing him to be too sanctimonious to cause any real damage should he choose to follow through. Still, there was little she could do to defend against his oncoming attack which happened almost as quickly as she could perceive it.

With an aching groan, she pushed herself into a sitting position and looked up at Errol standing above her. The worst of the anger had subsided from her tone and expression but she wasn’t exactly pleased with being launched across the parking lot either. She had said all that she needed to say to Duncan for the time being but no doubt another issue would crop up in due course.

“Because he’s a dick.” She muttered as she got back to her feet with Errol’s help, her gaze briefly catching Duncan’s with a glare before being drawn unwillingly to Clem who soon made her own thoughts known. After everything they had witnessed leading up to this moment, she was thankful that Errol was beside her when Clem approached. Considering she had been supposed to protect the youngest sibling, it was beginning to seem as though it was others who needed to be protected from her.

Noa wasn’t oblivious to the fact that she likely struck a chord with all of the siblings at the mention of their father, even though Duncan had intended to be the only casualty. Before she could try and diffuse the situation, Errol took upon himself the role of mediator, though he wouldn’t exactly win any peace awards for it, instead reinforcing the notion that Giovanni was a piece of shit.

Errol’s teasing earned him an unamused look from Noa but it was no more than a minor irritation compared to everything else that had just transpired. “It was less embarrassing until you said it.” She replied, gently brushing his hand away and walking past him towards the group that seemed to converge beside a secondary vehicle, continuing her answer to his question about her pride as she did. “It helps if you don’t have any to begin with.”

Her attention was quickly drawn to the newcomer, to whom she could now put a face to the voice. She couldn’t say for sure what she was expecting but he certainly didn’t seem like the type of person she and Errol associated themselves with. Perhaps they were associating themselves with the wrong people because the look certainly suited him well, at least it did until the comment he made over the phone earlier came to the forefront of her mind and suddenly he was just another of Duncan’s uppity goons.

“And who the fuck are you?” She asked rudely as she took the hoodie from him. It appeared as though he knew her somehow but frustratingly she didn’t have any idea who he was.

Even in her annoyance, she didn’t protest much. Clearly he wasn’t a total stranger, having called Duncan, so she could at least afford him a minute degree of trust for now. She pulled the hoodie over her head and pulled the hood up before taking her designated seat in the car and grabbing a pair of aviators. Sliding down into a slumped position in her seat, she dug her hands into the hoodie pocket and sat in silence now that the adrenaline had largely subsided.

After settling down into the seat, she felt something against her heel and reached under the seat to move it so that she could sulk in peace but upon finding that the offending object was a bottle of whiskey she didn't hesitate to unscrew the cap and take a swig before resuming her initial position. "Ces connards seront ma mort." She muttered to herself.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Duncan’s comment on her driving didn’t earn as much as a glance in his direction. In spite of his apparent insistence to become involved in yet another road accident today, she maintained her cautious stance but displayed a slight irritation under her breath. “Connard.” She muttered, uncaring of whether he understood or not.

His following comments, however, were nuclear levels of hostility and rife with accusations. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel but her gaze remained focused ahead. His words did not fall on deaf ears but she was not about to kill everyone in the vehicle on account of one asshole who deserved it most.

Noa seemed remarkably calm despite the barrage of threats and accusations with the only telltale sign of anger being the subtle shift in her body language and the brief iridescent blue glow of the veins on her hands, characteristic of her mutation, as her grip tightened. It almost appeared as though she was choosing to ignore Duncan, but that was far from the truth.

Duncan’s righteous crusade continued on to berate Errol but still she said nothing. Whatever feelings of contempt she had previously held towards Duncan were amplified and steeping in the silence. She had never liked him much before but now her anger had her verging on hatred.

The phone call broke the silence but did nothing to break the tension, instead prompting further annoyance from Noa as she heard her surname mentioned from the unknown caller. Still, committed to the safety of the group as her first priority, she followed through on the instructions she was given and headed to the agreed location, stopping with a harsh slam of the brakes.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve talking about responsibility.” She told Duncan, irritation rising over the initial calmness in her tone. “You’re holding me accountable for Clementine’s actions when you know damn well that none of us knew she could fucking do that?!” She began the rant that had been building up for the previous few minutes until it boiled over into the vitriol that she was about to spew at him.

“Why were they there, Duncan? You seem to know a lot about them. Was it in fact you who put her in harm’s way?” She returned her own accusations in a calm yet venomous tone. “You couldn’t even protect her from the influence of your cheating bastard of a father.” It was a low blow but it wasn’t unprovoked.

“And don’t you dare threaten me, you fucking self-righteous cretin.” She concluded by quickly moving to slap his face, aware but uncaring of the consequences of such an action should it succeed. "Fuck off back to Finland to pretend she doesn't exist again."

Outcasts Assembled: All's Fair in Love & War

It wasn’t only that her current lifestyle was far from a life she had envisioned, but it was also that it didn’t come naturally to her. She relied heavily on Errol in the earlier days until she was able to achieve some degree of independence. It wasn’t that her parents had sheltered her either; there had just been nothing for them to shelter her from. The life she found herself in was one of her own making, even if by circumstances beyond her control. It was her mother’s death which spurred the family’s immigration and it was Noa that caused the fatal illness.

Her friendship with Errol was very much borne out of circumstances. Of course, they would have never met had it not been for their status as mutants, but it had become more meaningful than that. In spite of everything that had transpired over the past few years, he had been a constant in her life due to the kindness and understanding that he offered when they first met. No one would have expected it. Both had been expected to continue their family business, only Errol’s family ‘business’ was a criminal empire and Noa’s had been a small restaurant in rural France.

They weren’t exactly the most likely of friends but she could let her guard down around him without the fear of accidentally hurting him, as evident by her relaxed demeanour around him and lack of reaction to the nudge of his elbow aside from an amused smile. Even then, it had taken a while to reach this level of familiarity so it was no surprise that she considered him her only real friend.

“150.” She replied, flicking through the money in confirmation. “Some people have more money than sense.” She mused, though in this instance it worked in their favour. It was certainly an abnormally high amount of money to pay for such a job but apparently some people could just throw their money at their problems to make them go away. It must’ve been nice.

No amount of money could solve their problems with the rise in anti-mutant sentiment across the country and the vitriol they faced daily.

“Errol…” She began, knowing what he was likely to do, but once he was in that mindset she knew there was little she could do to deter him. After a moment of hesitation, she resigned to her fate and quickened her pace to catch up after falling behind. “Don’t do anything, please.” She tried to reason with him upon seeing the sparks at his hands.

However, it was a short-lived attempt as they neared the crowd and it soon became apparent who the instigators were and who were the followers. It seemed as though a group of college students had managed to rile up enough of the locals into supporting their cause, densely populating the usually barren area on the edge of the campus.

Among them, a man was standing on a table to remain visible above the crowd. “They are making our streets dangerous. Statistics show that a disproportionately high number of mutants are committing crimes. They abuse their abilities and all we can do is sit by and watch?” He addressed the supportive crowd.

Despite her desire to avoid such gatherings, preferring to stay uninvolved and unnoticed to minimise any hate and attention that mutants already received, this was no ordinary rally, at least not for her.

The continuation of the speech fell on deaf ears as she carefully traversed a more sparsely populated area of the crowd to reach the speaker but was stopped by another student seemingly acting as security. “Let me past. I’m his-” She was interrupted as the student attempted to grab her arm to escort her away but she quickly manoeuvred herself out of the way. “Martin!” She called out in an attempt to get his attention. “Qu'est-ce que tu fais?!” She shouted above the noise of the crowd, this time their native language drawing his attention.

Handing the megaphone to the student beside him to continue on his behalf, the dark-haired man stepped down from the table and approached her with an expression of almost disbelief which quickly turned into a smile as he pushed between a couple of people which separated them and pulled her into a hug. Noa immediately froze, wary of whether she might accidentally hurt him, but once a moment had passed and she realised she was in the clear, she slowly wrapped her arms around him, feeling an intense mixture of emotions.

"What happened to you? I thought you were dead." He asked with concern. "Why would you think that?" She asked, returning the same concern. "You disappeared seven years ago. What else were we supposed to think?" He asked. "Yes, but... I sent a letter telling you that I was safe." She replied, her concern turning to confusion. Martin shook his head. "I've never seen such a letter."

Upon realising what had happened, there was little else she could utter other than a bewildered apology. "Martin, I- I'm so sorry." She stuttered, but he was quick to interject, still beyond confused about the entire situation. "What happened? Why did you leave?" He asked. "It's... complicated." She replied hesitantly. "I'm sure I'll understand." He tried to reassure her but his efforts wouldn't get him very far. "No, I don't think you will." She responded, prompting a look of confusion from her sibling before he drew his own conclusion and his expression shifted to one of discomfort.

"You're a mutant."

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

While the immediacy of their problems had been dealt with and they found themselves in relative safety, at least compared to the warzone from which they had escaped, they were not out of the woods yet. The city skyline was too dense for a helicopter to pursue them, if another one could be mustered in time after the loss of the first, but it was still not enough to stop them from being followed.

Despite the urgency of the situation and the initial shock, Noa didn’t act recklessly but rather remained highly focused on the task at hand and drove as responsibly as she could in the given circumstances, careful to avoid any accidents or create more damage. As much as she prioritised the group’s self-preservation, she didn’t want to do so at the cost of bystanders. It was a stance that she stood by strictly.

She glanced over at Errol when she felt his hand on her shoulder before quickly looking back at the road, drawn from the hyper-focus that she didn’t realise she had become absorbed in. She gave a curt nod to acknowledge his thanks. “Always.” She replied, but at this point she was wondering whether Clem really needed as much protection as she was being afforded. After all, they had all witnessed what she was capable of doing. Maybe the brothers’ days protecting her would be over before long.

The conversation behind her felt distant and detached as her attention returned almost solely to the road, at least until she needed to inform the group of their follower, at which point she caught the end of Errol’s insult complaint. “Don’t forget ‘dimwitted’. Maybe that’s why you don’t know what it means.” She chimed in for the first time. “Is that the same overzealous asshole behind us?” She asked, followed by another glance in the side mirror to ensure she could maintain a visual on the car to avoid any surprises.

Americans truly did live to work.

They were fighting a losing battle by trying to outrun a smaller, more nimble vehicle. The pursuit would have to end one way or another and she could only hope that no more people were hurt as a result. The damage already caused was beyond what was ideal. It was bad enough that they were de facto criminals without the threat of being branded as terrorists. "If anyone has any bright ideas, now is the time."

Outcasts Assembled: All's Fair in Love & War

Despite her allegiance with The Strays, Noa managed to wrangle herself a few cash-in-hand jobs in the week to at least have some cover for her criminal escapades in the form of a semi-legitimate income, especially if anything happened to the gang. On this occasion, she had managed to convince Errol to accompany her to the laborious job of painting some rooms for an elderly lady after Noa managed to convince her of their non-existent expertise in decorating.

At least these were the kinds of jobs where there was certainty that she wouldn’t feel guilty, even if it was under the pretence of a certain amount of deceit.

After finishing the job and accepting the cash, though not without the end of her sleeve becoming casualty to the paint, she exchanged goodbyes with the lady and headed back out into the street. It was one of the wealthier areas of town, near the university, so the lady was more than generous in her offerings, hence the reason Noa had chosen her particular advertisement.

Putting the cash in her pocket, she patted Errol on the back. “I’ll buy you a hot dog as thanks.” She told him with a sly smile, as though she wasn’t going to split the cash. Of course, she would, but teasing Errol was priceless. She was thankful for his company though, no matter how much he may or may not have been gently pressured. No one else was exactly keen on spending time with her but it suited her well because she enjoyed his company and not just for the sake of having someone around.

The side street joined back up with the main road which was as lively with traffic and blaring car horns as ever. Only, the traffic hadn’t moved for several minutes and soon angry voices began to enter the fray, seemingly that of both drivers and indistinct voices over megaphones in the direction they were headed. People in New York were certifiably insane. Even when she moved to the US seven years ago she lived in a sleepy Minnesotan town, a world away from New York.

Before the voices were discernible to the average person, Noa fell silent as she focused on the sound, barely able to make out the content of the voices but once she did her expression shifted to one of discomfort. “It’s an anti-mutant protest.” She informed Errol. Her jovial attitude disappeared. She had never fully accepted herself as a mutant and it was even harder to do so when other people denied your right to exist, but she couldn't avoid it forever.

Clearly uneasy, she slowed her pace. "Let's go another way." She suggested, though it would require a major detour and the chance of them catching public transport now was non-existent. Still, it seemed better than the alternative of listening to the vitriol of ignorant people.

Outcasts Assembled: All's Fair in Love & War

sike

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Noa half-stood over the driver’s seat, holding onto the handle on the ceiling while half hanging out of the open door as she urged the others to get in. When Clem chimed in with the reminder that they couldn’t abandon Duncan to his fate, Noa replied sarcastically. “Really? Why not?”

Regardless of the prejudiced feelings she held against Duncan, she wasn't cruel enough to abandon him. After all, he was somewhat of an ally and at the very least he was the brother of her best friend. Besides, there were plenty of people she didn't like but she wouldn't wish death on any of them.

The arrival of the police further complicated matters and heightened the urgency of their situation, especially as they seemed a little too trigger happy. Catching Clem with her free arm when she stumbled her way, she cursed under her breath. “Shit.” She knew how important protecting Clem was to Errol and Duncan. She didn't really care what Duncan wanted but in this instance it forced them to become a cohesive unit.

Hearing the anger and concern in Errol’s tone, Noa, as level-headed as ever, calmly reassured him. “I’ve got her.” She hooked her arm under Clem’s and dragged her into the truck whether Clem was able to physically assist or not.

With a quick glance over her shoulder to confirm the other two occupants were inside, she revved the engine into life but not without another reminder from Errol. “Yes, I know!” She replied, shouting back in response. "I'm not just going to throw him to the uhhh... ducks." She attempted to use an idiom she heard before, though not as successfully as she thought.

With only the side mirror for reference, she slammed on the breaks, fighting to keep control of the wheel as the truck skidded into a turn. As soon as she had visual confirmation of Duncan grabbing Errol’s hand, she immediately pushed the pedal to the floor, taking evasive manoeuvres to avoid traffic and whomever might be pursuing them.

“Oh shit, put some seatbelts on.” She told the group before frantically turning the wheel and roughly swerving into a hard left upon seeing a police car in the traffic ahead, slamming into the door as she did after neglecting her own seatbelt.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

General
Name: Martin Loxley
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Height: 5’11
Weight: 170lbs
Nationality: French-American
POB: Toulouse, France
Mutant: No
Relatives: Jesse Loxley (Father), Nicolette Loxley-Veilleux † (Mother), Noa Loxley (Sister)

Physical Description
Martin is a slim man of average height with a tan complexion, blue eyes and short dark brown hair which curls at the ends and is relatively untidy. Typically, he wears unassuming clothes designed for practicality over comfort and he walks with a limp in his right leg.

Backstory
Martin is the second child of former American soldier Jesse Loxley and his French wife who met while the former was serving overseas. While initially seemingly set to have a normal upbringing, he lived a relatively sheltered life until his mother’s illness forced a drastic change onto the family.

Without their mother’s business acumen, the family’s restaurant suffered and their father accumulated debts until its closure, forcing the remaining family’s immigration to the United States to live with the other half of their family in Minnesota while they sought to rebuild their lives.

Only months after their arrival was the family again upturned by the disappearance of Martin’s older sister, pushing their already heartbroken father into a breakdown. Now living alone with his father, a shell of his former self, Martin’s goals centred on escaping their small town as his father began to slide into addiction.

Aided partly by a scholarship due to his father’s military service, Martin secured a place at New York University and enrolled the following year. Removed from the safe bubble of the small towns he had always lived in yet already embittered by his circumstances, Martin was easily drawn to ways to direct his anger.

After becoming an accidental victim in a botched robbery conducted by two mutants in his sophomore year, Martin was left with a permanent limp and an unwavering hatred towards mutants. His fervour led to the creation of a group of like-minded students and a wave of political rallies that grew in popularity until they spread beyond the borders of the university campus.

Personality
Although Martin prides himself in being loyal and protective, anyone who might benefit from such characteristics are few and far between as he is equally narrow-minded and prejudiced, though this is exclusively directed towards mutants.

His experiences in life have left him bitter and hardened though he is not devoid of empathy. On the contrary, he is an advocate for protecting people who cannot otherwise protect themselves, particularly against mutants, which stems from his own injury at the hands of mutants and the feelings of anger and powerlessness that followed.

His extraversion and charismatic nature allows him a certain degree of influence and persuasion over others but it does not cross over the line of arrogance, rather he portrays himself as confident to hide his true inferiority complex.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Instinctively, Noa reached to grab Clementine’s hand as soon as she was within reach but immediately withdrew it upon the realisation that she might accidentally harm Clem in doing so, aware that her own abilities were harder to control with heightened emotions. Though she tended to be level-headed, nothing could prepare her for an impromptu warzone in the middle of the street.

Without hesitation, she swung the rifle around from her back and aimed it towards Clem’s attacker. Though she had little experience in the way of marksmanship, there was a certain advantage to be gained from heightened senses and reflexes. Unfortunately, none of that would matter now as the attacker had prepared for such an eventuality by using Clem to ensure her own safety. "Buzz off, Bitch." She said sharply.

Noa’s focus turned from the scope of the weapon to the ebb of light emanating below it, shortly followed by a growing warmth which forced her to step back, lowering her weapon as she did, only to see the harrowing sight of Clem’s abilities in full force from the charred flesh to the gut-wrenching scream of pain. Nothing could have prepared her for what she had just witnessed.

It was probably just as well that she hadn’t accidentally grabbed Clem earlier, for her own sake.

Though still shocked by the situation she had just witnessed, she was not perturbed enough to forget their priorities, or at least not enough to show it. Noa had seen enough people act towards her with apprehension and she didn’t want to pass the same judgement she had experienced onto Clementine, even if she was feeling unsettled in the moment. Besides, she had no idea how Clem was feeling right now. It was just as likely that she was scared too.

Calmly, but loud enough to try and breach the sound of crackling around them to reach Clem, she approached as close as was comfortable before the prickling heat became too much to bear. “Come on, Clem. This isn’t your fight.” She spoke gently, trying to offer some comfort in their unprecedented situation.

Despite her calm demeanour, her expression when she locked eyes with Errol told another story, one of concern. There wasn’t time to discuss though as two of the brutes came barreling towards them.

“Get in the truck.” She told the pair solemnly without taking her eyes off of the incoming adversaries before quickly snapping and running to the open door of the armoured vehicle that she had cleared out minutes before. Even if Duncan managed to intercept the mutants heading their way, it was no good for anyone to be standing out in the open. Turning the key that had been left in the ignition, the engine roared to life.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

"Oh good, so we just have you to blame.” She retorted. Unfortunately for Duncan, she would’ve been much more tolerant of the situation they found themselves in if Errol had in fact been to blame. Now he would only put an even larger target on his back for her to direct her spitefulness towards, which stemmed from a biased recounting of events from Errol rather than any real interaction with Duncan.

Upon witnessing the confrontation Errol found himself in, she made use of the limited resources at her disposal and opened the driver’s side door of the burning van as the flames threatened to consume the vehicle. She wedged the rifle between the accelerator and seat to keep the pedal on the floor and leaned across to shift the gear into drive before quickly retreating from the burning vehicle as it sped towards Errol’s attacker.

An inkling of apprehension crept into her mind as she became aware of the low rumbling frequency of another heavy vehicle, or possibly several, heading their direction - knowledge that she was privy to long before it was audible to the average person.

With little to no cover left, she crouched down next to the man who was still suffering from the effects of whatever she had done to him and raided his belt for something of use. With a newly acquired flashbang in her possession she climbed up the fire escape of the neighbouring building in anticipation of what was to come.

When the armoured vehicle expectedly rolled up, an armed man appeared in the roof-hatch of it. Taking the moment of opportunity, Noa dropped down onto the roof of the vehicle and kicked the assailant back into the armoured sarcophagus before dropping the flashbang into the van and closing the hatch to protect herself from its effects.

Once it was over, she dropped herself into the hatch and after a few moments of scuffle she was the only one who emerged from the back doors.

Her attention now focussed on her friend and begrudging allies, she called out to them. “Duncan! Send Clem this way!” She urged, knowing of both the brothers' desire to protect her. As much as she didn't like Duncan, if it was important to Errol then it was important to her.