Post by Professor X on Feb 13, 2016 12:46:51 GMT -5
OOC Summary
A doctor successfully creates the mutant gene within a laboratory. Professor X fears that the research could fall into the wrong hands. Business leaders want to sell the product, politicians want to regulate it, the military wants to create super soldiers, and the single most important question goes unanswered; is it morally acceptable? The X-Men explore this question by examining themselves as they navigate a web of lies and mysteries surrounding the potential of this 'miracle.'
Roleplayer's writing
(Professor X)
"Through the course of human evolution, remarkable-incredible events have shaped and transformed society to what it is today. For every negative, tragic, or brutal event, humanity has persevere and has grown from's dark trial. There was once slavery, the French took the first step into recognizing individuality, that would later spark the United Nations to recognize human equality. We humanity was plagued by disease; one of the largest ecological genocide in our entire history, we had developed vaccinations. Through tyranny, we've created a weapon far more powerful than any nuclear bomb. We've harbored and embraced fear, as it is a critical component to our development. It was Bertrand Russell who said: 'Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the main sources of cruelty. To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom.'
Mr. Russell's words ring to the tale of the phoenix rising from the ashes. Humanity has a response and solution to fear and it will always be hope. Hope is what some say drives innovation. Unlike fear, hope cannot be manufactured, it is something that forms in the depths of our soul and ushers us into the unknown with the acceptance of fear while entertaining the possibility of change." Charles Xavier had finished speaking and reached for a glass of water to ease the dryness in his throat. He was a considerably built man with impressive upper body form, dressed in a pressed business suit that spared no expense with a dark brown hue for the coat and pants, that matched a pair of amber dress shoes.
"I'd like to welcome everyone to please help yourselves to refreshments in the table." Charles lifted his hand to a set of white tables bearing bowls of fruit, sandwiches, sliced chicken, among other plates of well cooked dinner and lunch meals. Charles would manipulate the control panel of his wheel chair allowing him to stroll off the set of a white stage with a podium and microphone. The ceremony was a welcoming of new students to the school while the exemplary cast of men and women sat behind Charles. Next to Scott would be Hank, who made a B-line for Charles as he stood up. "Professor, if you don't mind I should be going." Charles would offer his hand to Hank for an exchange "Thank you for coming, Hank. Stay in touch, Mister McCoy."
The weather would be beautiful, a clear sunshine, a soothing breeze that didn't make wearing a suit too unbearable. It was an unexplained feeling that Charles felt as he rode across the grass of the North field, the dormitories of the students stood directly in front of Charles as he stared off, his thoughts were on something - or someone else. He had tried to reach out to a friend with his telepathy, but he had no success and only obtained a unifying sensation across multiple minds. He would call to his lieutenants whom were only an ear shot from him. "Ororo and Scott, I will be in my office." Xavier stated with an emotionless tone, not uncommon to the man as he simply rode towards the dormitory signaling the double doors to open and allowing him passage through. The catering staff would seemingly be traveling about Xavier as they shuffled between the kitchen and the presentation.
Maids would be working to keep the grounds clean, some would smile and wave at Charles as he past them. Many of the servants on the grounds were somehow friends of Charles, aided and assisted from his days working for the C.I.A...Information that only the X-Men would know and the details were barely given to them regarding what he had done. Still, these aids were trustworthy people and were no where near afraid of the mutants they worked around.
(Christopher Xavier)
He was a young man with grand dreams of winning the gold medal this year at the Olympics, and despite the many ups and downs that occurred in his life, and there were indeed many, he managed to grasp of hold of just enough success to thrust him through that window of opportunity along with a few other young men that made up the foil, or fencing, team for the US. When practice, which was done on an average basis, was done he it took him a little time to drive all the way back to the school. He was fortunate enough to travel through light traffic, or what was considered light by the standards of New York, and the light green car pulled up into the school just a few minutes shy of the end of Charles’ speech. It took the next few minutes to head into the school and politely weave through the crowded nature, maids and students alike, to get to the hallway that would lead up to the staircase itself. The desire to change into another comfortable attire was there in his mind.
Perhaps the shorter and more often taken route would have been the choice he picked, but given the crowded nature of the hallways he opted to take the “back roads” to the boy’s dormitories where his room was located, which would have happened to take him right by the office of his father office, nothing uncommon when it came to avoiding having to be stopped and talked to. It was a more isolated route even for one that held as many people as it did at the moment, not that it was a bad thing, but at the moment he did not want to answer many questions particularly about his aspirations. [e]
(Cyclops)
Scott Summers stood beside the Professor as he made his speech, dressed in a pair of slacks, button up long sleeve shirt, and dress shoes. For the this, he had chosen a light brown pair of pants and shoes with a white top; much more welcoming to the newcomers than his normal attire. His eyes stared out at the ruby colored gathering before him and noted each of their faces. Some were excited. He knew how they felt. They had a chance to finally be at a place where they did not have to worry about their powers and the things that made them different from humanity. Others had the look of anger that he had seen in a few. He understood. To be ostracized by the world at large because of how you were born, something that you had no choice in the mater, and now had to be shunned away just for the simple feeling of safety. Most were scared. He empathized. Scott had been there in his own time and in many ways he still wasy. The gathering was made up of kids... afraid, lonely, hurt, -c
and confused about what they future would hold for them. It was only imagination that brought him any closer to what it felt like to have his family turn their back on him... to be scolded and spurned by the two people that brought you into this world without permission, presented you with presents, loved you every day of your life until the moment that you showed abilities beyond human. Despite what he felt, Scott's taciturn demeanor remained firmly in place, hands behind his back with the right holding onto the wrist of the left, until Xavier finished. At his departure, the brown haired male gave Xavier a nod, "Of course,Professor," shook Hank's hand as he moved away, took one more glance back to the students, and then went about his business.
(Gambit)
Gambit’s eyes opened and the sun was offensive, he groaned slightly and reached for the sunglasses that had been haphazardly placed on the nightstand and pulled them onto his face. The home he was in was excellent, filled with a spiral staircase, more rooms than anyone could ever use, a full rotating waiting staff known for their discretion and silk sheets that felt like you were sleeping on air. Still, in this moment, he couldn’t enjoy any of it, he had a job to do and a hangover to suffer through. Quietly, he turned and placed his bare toes on cloud like carpet and silently made his way about the room collecting his clothing and keeping the slumbering blonde that had been beside him in her state of unconsciousness. He didn’t like these types of entrances, he always felt some residual guilt, but in this instance, she’d told him that he wouldn’t be sticking around, if he took a few things with him? Well, you probably shouldn’t invite strange men into your home. -c-
His shirt was pulled over his shoulders, his jeans were tugged to his waist and his jacket was left resting at the foot of the bed for the moment, his boots were neglected as bare feet made it easier to move about without being heard. Shaking slightly, awareness began washing away the grogginess of the morning and he immediately began looking about. He checked the usual places, paintings on the wall that showed signs of being moved often, under the bed, then finally the closet. His hands easily slipped the collection of high priced clothes aside and there it was, the Sentry, electronic floor safe, complete with an electronic lock. Gambit reached into his pocket, removing his phone and using it’s light to study the touchpad. This model was excellent, expensive, nearly uncrackable, with no tumblers and three guessed before it has to be opened by a locksmith,the one weakness was, as with most things, human error. -c-
Grease from your fingers always smudged the foamy buttons of the keypad and from there it was simply seeing which were the most degraded to decipher the password. Now, Gambit was good, but deciphering a husband’s password after one particularly wild night with the wife wasn’t exactly in his wheelhouse, still, there were other options. He tried his first three guesses, two random combinations of the numbers he could tell were clearly used and the last, the mark’s birthday. There was a satisfying click that meant the safe was locked up and wouldn’t be opened by the owner’s code anymore. A message appeared on the digital display. “The safe is now locked, contact your provider.” Gambit grinned and went back to his phone, pressing send and placing the device to his ear. He kept his voice low. “Hey, dere homme’, I need a manufacturer’s fo’ a sentry model 2210, two years old I’d say.” -c-
His fingers went to the touchpad, entering the four number combination and the most satisfying click of all was heard. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get you yo’ cut, friend, be by after I get my share..” The call was ended an Gambit opened the safe quickly, there were several thousand dollars worth of jewelry that his nimble fingers were quick to grab and there in the back was the file he’d been sent to retrieve. The rules were simple, don’t open it, don’t look at it, just take it and make contact for the drop. Gambit didn’t have time to read it now, but curiosity had always been a weak point of his. The safe was closed, not locked and Gambit stepped back into the bedroom, tucking his hall under his coat and slipping his feet into his boots. His eyes fell onto the form of the woman who had been his ‘way in’ and he gave a brief nod. “Appreciate de night, chere, I’m sure you understand if Gambit don’t call, no?” -c-
She couldn’t hear him, but it was the polite thing to do, with the file in hand, he made his way out of the room and eventually the house, as planned. -e-
(Rogue)
“Yeah, Ah agree Logan” she replied to Wolverine, they had been talking about claws being really useful in general and, clearly she had them among her favorites, in her own borrowed version of it, that is, no adamantium but bones instead, well, much stronger than human bones anyway due to her new nature, but still bones. “Painful at first, then they’re okay” she added with a shrug of her shoulder. The two seemed to have been listening to Xavier, and now they have been speaking at times about their own things but standing to the side and resting against the wall. She was in casual clothes, nothing out of the ordinary including her gloves to prevent any accident in case that she felt like joining the crowd… which she had been considering for a while but only now figured that she would at least go and grab a drink. “Comin’?” she asked already knowing that he would give her a no for an answer, well, a shake of his head with maybe a grunt. -c-
“Ok sugah” she said before waving and walking away towards the drinks. Rogue greeted a few newcomers, patted a kid or two on the head and finally managed to make it to the drinks area. Of course there was no alcohol so, she got herself an unopened can of coke, and started to drink from it, only now noticing that the Professor and at least Scott were gone, she raised an eyebrow as she found it strange.-e-
(Professor X)
As he arrived into the office he could hear the voice through the vast amount of information coming into his mind. ~Turn on...the tele-television...Turn on the television...~ His eyes opened and he lowered his hands from his temples and he spoke. "Cerebro, television. Channel 6, please." "Yes, Professor." a soft feminine voice replied. A flat television screen would slide down from the ceiling on a mechanical limb, as Charles waited with anticipation he sat straight in his chair and intertwined his fingers while resting his elbows upon the arms of the chair. His eyes fixated upon the blank screen as it changed into a display.
"Doctor Gwendolyn Hertz has created a Miracle drug that taps into and unlocks the human's ability for mutant powers. Is this the start of human evolution or the dawn of a new super-powered weapon? Government officials are already attempting to push legislation on this miracle drug and Congress has been going back and forth on the debate of mutants for the past 20 years. This new drug seems to be sparking a controversy that's long over due." Charles stared at the television screen and his mind would flash to a moment in the past of him staring at his friend as he spoke. Erik leaned closer to Charles from his chair across from him and began explaining
"Has humanity not learned anything? Trading one tyrant for another? Replacing one prejudice with another? Look around us, Charles. There is no concept of right or wrong, good or evil, there is only 'the game' and whether it's the C.I.A or the K.G.B, we're just pawns. I'm tired of being someone else's pawn and I'm tired of being someone else's excuse for their behavior. United States or Soviet Russia, this decade it is nuclear arms, before that it was humanitarian rights, the one before that was conspiracy, the one before that was privileged society...They will repeat history, replace Fuhrer with President, Emperor with Prime Minister. The only ones deserving of power are those who are gifted with it. And when the time comes, I won't let them treat us as an excuse to commit genocide. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, like steel tempered in a forge, our time will be the future and we will break this cycle or be doomed to repeat it."
It was within the files a document outlining the creation of a mutant gene activation sequence. There was a lot of scientific information inside it that Gambit may not have understood, but he most likely understood a sentence that stated "Mutation activation via injection of Dimorphometagenetic accelerate." The drop man sat upon the park bench of central park, unsuspecting that the location would be changed in a few moments. Clint wore a signet ring labeled "M" for the Maggia crime syndicate based in Europe, he was relatively new to American criminal activity - only having a single decade of experience, his youthfulness allowed him to adapt in this environment to later educate his family in Europe. He sat patiently scrolling through twitter on his phone.
(Christopher Xavier)
The bag that Christopher toted was filled with articles of clothing and the smaller parts of his gear, the suit itself was left in the trunk of the car to be fetched a little later for dry cleaning; hence, why it was left in the car. A bit impractical would it have been to bring it into the house only to carry it back out, not a very pragmatic way of looking at things. The door to Charles’ office was open…that was odd. In the time he had been here had not seen the man once, and it was accompanied by the thought of him simply being busy as everyone seemed to have been these days. Nothing was said as he stopped in the middle of the doorway and took the moment to listen to what was being said on the television, something that was equally as drawing as his father was in regards to where his attention laid. “Unlocking mutant abilities...so, now we are being created through scientific means like lab rats to be experimented on,” he said aloud. There was a dual purpose his outspokenness served
It was not only meant to garner the attention of Charles, but it was also meant to start a conversation of perhaps mutual interest. “What happens if they unlock the wrong powahs within the wrong person, and what’s gonna happen to those who already have active mutations…that is saying they are to further such an idea,” was the question he posed. It seemed that he was already thinking ahead of longer term advancements as well as long term consequences to this project taking root as well as being improperly handled. An interesting way it was to introduce himself to the man he had never seen before until now. He sat his bag down on the ground for a moment and patted some of the wrinkles out of the off white long sleeve shirt he had on that was matched with a typical pair of blue jeans and equally white shoes. [e]
(Gambit)
Gambit held what he was sure was one of the greasiest burgers in the city, but it was cheap and somehow, delicious. There was a lot on his mind, he hadn’t understood the math or the science behind it all, but he’d seen enough. ‘Against Government protocol.’ ‘Non-FDA approved’ ‘Human evolution in pill form.’ They were going to make them, designer mutants to the highest bidder. You want to fly? Take the blue pill, Breathe underwater? The green. Powered up pill heads and all the dangers that implied. Usually, Gambit didn’t worry with the details, he was paid, the job was done, and it didn’t matter. Still, he knew, he knew why they wanted it, what it was and he had a pretty good idea of what they were going to do with it. Men in power always craved more power, it was a fact of life that made Gambit’s business so successful, if they had money they wanted more money, fame, more fame, enemies, total dominance. -c-
All of these things Gambit could deliver and more, but with all the information he’d gleaned, could he live with himself after? He saw the young man waiting for him, the ring on his hand a dead giveaway. “Dere he is, Gambit didn’ keep you waitin’ too long did I?” He finished the last bite of the burger and slid into the seat beside the man.-e-
(Professor X)
He turned from his seat to see Christopher, a cold gaze fell upon the man before him whom seemed almost like a younger and splitting image of himself, though a few of his mother's traits apparent. The boy's command of the English language was sufficiently lacking and not of the Xavier's lineage of academic prestige. Never the less Christopher's career in academia was worthy and not unexpected. The question was incorrect and the wrong one to ask, Charles didn't expect Christopher to know anything about genetics or the science behind mutations, Charles himself barely knew of it until Moira Kinross explained it all to him and of course Charles engrossed himself in this knowledge.
"The mutant gene cannot be 'added' like it's a virus. It's a dormant gene that is activated within the person, it's gift are inherit and cannot be changed or added onto. What is there is always there...Like your eyes do not change, your hair stays the same, your skin doesn't change." He stated with a clear lack of emotion, very pointed and to the facts. "Hello, Christopher, my apologies for not having sat down with you sooner...I've been busy." Charles didn't want to tell Christopher he had been secretly training a team of superheroes, but as it stood right now that seemed like the better route to go.
At the park, Clint would shift in his position and seemed a bit impatient and uncomfortable around Gambit or in the public place...which ever it was Gambit could sense the man wasn't calm. "I've been waiting for ten minutes. Do you have the package?"
(Christopher Xavier)
“Perhaps I should have rephrased myself,” he said to the seemingly emotionless man before him, a far contrasting difference from the expressive son of his. “What happens if the powahs that ah awakened ah mo-uah than the subject in question can handle,” he asked. Christopher’s accent was Boston at its finest, and one of the things that made it so popular both culturally speaking and in regards to mainstream media. Although it was, perhaps, not what his father expected it was there nonetheless, and so was he. “…and what about those who already have an active primary mutation, and perhaps anotha one that is dormant,” he asked. Christopher’s majors, which he had Masters in, were in Chemistry and Pharmaceuticals and although not exactly on the topic of genetics they were subjects that crossed over into it greatly. He was also from a family of mutants on his maternal side which naturally bolstered some of his knowledge, even with personal experience of his own abilities.
So although not as far into the specific category of genetics as his father, his academic background didn’t leave him without knowledge of it. Chris was also very intelligent despite the accent being thought of as below par of standard English by many. He said he was busy and Christopher’s response was “So I’ve heard,” before he added “It’s okay, theah is plenty of time, hopefully, for us to play catch up,”. Here was a man that was so in control of himself, and the other who wore his heart out on his sleeves. So different, but yet so alike in quite a few ways. Genetics…a finicky thing indeed. “Is it even propah for othahs to do this in the wake of all the negative limelight focused on mutants,” a question of ethics had just presented itself from one mutant to another. [e]
(Nemesis)
Brynjar was just a kid. Fear, panic; a sense of acceptance led him here. There were many just like him at the institute, here for the same reason. Control. He'd been there through the course of the speech, clinging to each word spoken by the Professor. Upon the climax of the speech, he'd taken notice to the many white tables carrying varies foods and drinks around. Being a bit peckish, he found himself already having a plate to indulge in the food provided. He'd seen it televised, just like everyone else had, someone had created a pill meant to unlock the mutant gene. It was in his opinion an abomination, the creation of something is nothing short of unnatural; an abomination. Could they ever truly fit in amongst the more naturally cultivated mutants? That was only a question time could answer, should this drug hit market. Over the course of his meal, Brynjar could not help his gaze lingering around each and every person that had joined him. Though he wasn't, he could not help but feel that lingering sense of being alone. Probably not the only one feeling that sensation. Though he'd not been here quite long, his tenure had permitted him to befriend a few residents here. One, in particular, had a habit of spewing vulgarity. But, that's who he was, how he was most likely raised. He could hear many various conversations roaming about, but all it came to, aside from those in close vicinity, was white noise.
(Cyclops)
Scott soon returned to the gathering of students, his eyes searching the crowd. Everyone seemed to be calming down and adjusting to their new surroundings. It would take time for them to adjust and accept that this would be their home, at least for as long as they were willing to stay. The elders here would try their best to keep any that wished to leave from going without being prepared, but the school was not a prison and, therefore, not meant to hide people away; sequestered into a corner of the world to be ignored or forgotten. Scott slipped through the crowd, his stoic face and cold presence aiding in keeping people from bumping into or otherwise trying to gain his attention. Working his way over to stand beside Rogue, he reached over into the ice bowl and pulled out a bottle of water, popping it open, "What do you think of the group, Anna?"
(Gambit)
“Calm down, homme, dis ain’t de place to de-liver, dis is de place where I make sure you didn’ set me up. We jus’ two guys talkin’ bout de weather far as anyone know.” He was nervous, which was good for Gambit whether it was because they were doing dirty deeds or because of Gambit’s demonic visage, Remy couldn’t be sure but it didn’t matter. “Now, we gonna sit aroun’, enjoy de day for a minute and den we gonna head to the south end of de park, see?” He took a look around, spotting several joggers, public places were always best, many organizations wouldn’t make a move on someone in broad daylight and gophers didn’t have the pull to make a decision on the spot. “Aight, I t’ink dat’s long enough, let’s go.” It may have seemed strange, but Gambit had a particular way he did things, the world was a nice place, but it was filled with not nice people. -c-
Gambit’s hands were in his pocket, one resting on a deck of opened playing cards, the other gripping his compact telescopic bo staff through a hole in the coat pocket, to keep the shape hidden. As they rounded a corner, two police cars were parked at the corner with the lights on. “Now, we get to de bad news, homme. I done a lotta t’ings in my life, I helped a man make a fortune on Wall street, robbed a couple mom and pop stores so dey’d sell de storefronts. I knew every con-se-quence of my actions, see? De way I look at it, I’m a guy wit one t’ing, de t’ing is dat, no matter how bad I was, I never did anyt’ing I couldn’t live wit. But dat file yo’ bosses want? I can’ live with dat. I called de two cops ova dere, told ‘im what you look like and said dat you was plannin’ to kill a guy who looked a lot like me. So, here yo’ options, you can go back to yo’ bosses and tell dem Gambit ain’t playin ball, den come try and fine me. -c-
Second option is me an’ you can have a little tussle and I can tell de nice po-lice man all about how you attacked me fo’ no good reason.” -e-
(Rogue)
By the time Scott was back and standing by her side, she had taken care of her coke, chit chatted with new kids, saw Wolverine sneaking out elsewhere, probably to find a beer she thought and now she was enjoying some chocolate ice-cream in a little glass bowl and, obviously with a small spoon, it was free, might as well eat some! She greeted Scott with a small wave of her now empty spoon, waiting a bit to reply because she had ice-cream in her mouth. “Ah don’t know to be honest, but overall they seem like nice kids, as normal as they can be, ya know? We got a couple of solitaries though” she said before subtly pointing at three of them that were standing in different places at a safe distance of the crowd. Luckily Rogue was subtle enough to not make anyone feel uncomfortable. “So where did Charles go? Thought that he would mingle with the rest after the speech but you guys disappeared” she asked with obvious curiosity, since she had seen them go earlier. -e-
(Professor X)
Remaining still and with the mechanics of a robot and perhaps the personality of one, Charles continued to answer Chris. "A secondary mutant gene is what you're questioning. And thus far there have been no such things. Mutations are given as a set, what we do with them is what some misunderstand as 'evolution' of our powers." ~For example, I can speak to you through your mind. Many of my abilities derive from my mind - the ability to communicate is but a drop of water in the ocean, Christopher.~ Charles stare would fixate on Christopher with an intense heat that one would expect from a hot summer's day. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was incredibly organized and each thought well calculated and anticipated. Only two men truly knew and understood Charles' thought process; Scott and Erik, and only the latter took the opportunity to analyze and objectively conflict with it, as Scott was still sub-servant to Charles' influence.
"I am unaware of any negative mutant outcries...Our community of people is still relatively small. I fear that this may be the beginning of something greater. This will re-ignite the mutant debate in the public. Something I've been preparing for, for the last twenty years." Charles' eyes for the first time in their conversation stared off to the wall next to the doorway, his mind was clearly off in another place as his face would seem to be mixed with confusion, distress, and concentration. Like how one would try to understand a complex painting and every stroke of a brush upon the canvas. Christopher may not have known how his father would feel about the conversation or about the man, but it would be quite typical of his interactions with everyone on the grounds. As Mr. Drake as noted 'Cerebro has more personality than Professor X.'
Clint would stand up and follow Gambit and as the terms and conditions were placed down Clint began to wiggle the ring around his finger as if building the courage to use his 'authority' on the thug. Instead Clint tapped his feel and bit his lower lip until forcing out of his mouth with contained frustration. "Why? Do you think those cops will protect you? If you know about us, you'd know we're not the kind of people you fuck with." Within his household and organization the vulgarity was disrespectful, but to Americans it was common procedure and protocol to build street credit.
Clint bit his lip and shook his head at Gambit and then took a few times back, raising his hands defenselessly into the air. "You just signed your death warrant. I suggest you reconsider. I need to talk to my boss, if you're lucky he'll let you sink to the bottom of the hudson."
(Christopher Xavier)
Charles was far greater in magnitude and ability that his grandfather of the same ability and upon making contact with Christopher unexpectedly caused him to become a bit mentally withdrawn towards the end of it, just a bit. The sensation of talking to mutant of a far greater level of power was a different experience despite Charles being very in control and at ease with it. The stare he gave was actually more pulling than pushing as his own blue eyes met his father’s eyes in conversation. Structure and wrapped tightly was the mind of a much more experienced telepathic mutant, and on some level it intrigued him. ” You gotta give me heads up fathah when you do that as your mind is intense, even mo-uah so your stare,” he responded telepathically. So that is how it felt to be on the receiving end of such ability. Interesting. He was familiar with communicating, but the deeper aspects of telepathy that his father referred to were something he had yet to truly explore. [c]
Christopher was more hands on and thus his powers evolved in a much more physical manner such as manifesting his telepathy in the form of psionic constructs programmed by him to relay messages. This was a rare moment he actually made direct contact with another and felt as if he was at a huge disadvantage. The vulnerable feeling that washed over him was foreign, When Charles stared off it was obvious what he was doing for the mere reason that the same often happened to him when he initially started opening up to that offshoot, or aspect, of his abilities. “Something wrong,” he asked as he turned around and picked up his bags. “Wanna go fo’ a stroll fathah,” he asked despite the latter word still feeling just a tad awkward. He needed to put his things up and thought about joining the others. [e]
(Cyclops)
Scott shifted his gaze towards the students that she pointed out, his head tilting a bit as he studied each of them. Two did have clear and noticeable mutations: one had what appeared to be smoke or steam constantly flowing up into the air from his body and, even though the other two stood near him, both seemed to avoid touching him. He he had to guess, then it had something to do with his body heat. Perhaps the start of some form of... heat manipulation perhaps? The other had two mismatched eyes that bugged out a bit from his sockets and constantly moved of their own accord; in addition to that, his fingers appeared to be webbed. The third was an interesting case. At least for Scott, he could not pick out anything different about him at the moment, position, and visual he had. "The Professor had business matters to attend to and as did I. I came back to check in, but if you need to speak with him, I can tell you where he is."
(Nemesis)
From time to time, solitude is what Brynjar sought out. To be alone wasn't a bad thing, nor was it necessarily a good thing either. However, being that he wasn't very well versed in the English language, it wasn't very hard to figure out why exactly Brynjar wasn't consorting with the rest of the mutants that did so. The language barrier sometimes was difficult, whatever the case, he got by a little with what conversations he'd had with the few he'd met. This is probably why he strayed away from the rest, avoiding conversations. he may have been practicing and studying the English language, but it was still difficult to carry on a conversation and speak it properly. To call Brynjar an interesting case would be putting it lightly, his particular mutation could be visualized, but one would have to bring it into play. But now was not the time, nor the place to be displaying powers; now was a time for consumption. There was always a reason for not associating with others, some didn't do it due to their powers, touching was a dangerous thing to them, some did it because language barrier, but most wouldn't talk to others due to the instilled fear of still being quite different. No matter how you look at it, they may be mutants, but they're all still very different. Finally looking up from his plate of food, the moment that Scott had placed attention on him, is when he took notice of him watching. Sunglasses? why would the man require to wear sunglasses inside? Did he have a vision issue? That was very possible. "Hello." the younger male spoke, not wishing to be rude.
(Professor X)
"My apologies if I was overwhelming. Understand that it's exciting to meet a fellow telepath, it is but a fraction of your powers, Christopher. And although you may not be what we consider omega level, you have great potential." "No." Charles stated simply as though he was coming back to reality. "No, please...Run along without me. I should look forward to working with you, Christopher. I would like to have dinner with you...perhaps not today as I have some things to take care of but, soon if that is alright with you?" Charles tried to be 'right' by a father's standards, but up until meeting Scott, Charles could only help but feel he was cursed with a good family. Scott was the son he never had, but never fully integrating with Scott like he could with Jean whom was a telepath as well.
Charles would await Chris' response and should he leave, Charles would stare the television as he waited for the next visitor to enter his office - for there was someone waiting patiently and within the shadows unknown to Christopher.
(Christopher Xavier)
He had things to attend to, and that was alright. However, there was this feeling of inadequacy. The meeting with his father for the first time wasn’t great as he expected it to be, but then again it was not bad either. It was…okay. “Sure,” was the short answer he got that was only hinted with uncertainty. Hopefully he was not expecting a longer response, but okay was just that, okay…far from great and only marginally better than good. Then again it was their first time meeting, and he was sure that their respective first impressions of each other were also…okay. Charles did seem to be distracted, and that only detracted to the value of the conversation. Disappointed? A little. However, there was plenty of time to make better on it, and that was what he hoped would happen in time. With that he moved out of the room and headed to his own to put his things away.
(Professor X)
"Intruder alert!" were the words of Cerebro within Xavier's office, prompting Charles to look to his doorway where a man dressed in blue business suit stood. Brown hair with graying side burns and an eye patch upon his left side. "Sophisticated security system, easily bypassed, though." The man spoke as though slightly. An atmosphere of no non-sense surrounded the man as determined foot steps entered the office. Charles spoke calmly. "This is a school, not a top secret government agency. Why are you here?" "You know why I'm here, Charles. Over twenty years ago, you wrote a report stating that Erik Magnus Lehnsherr was a potential threat should the mutant population increase and/or if Government proposes regulation upon them." Charles didn't react and simply remained cold and calm despite the sort of interrogation being given to him. "I also stated that it was to any Government, not strictly the United States."
Charles watched as the government agent stared him down. "You're not a government agency, but you mean to tell me you've been training these kids for...what? Psych studies on human behavior? A war is coming Charles and some might believe you're preparing for it--" Charles would interrupt. "--Or...I'm preparing to prevent one." Despite his cold demeanor, Charles words held a determined and protective tone that a parent would have over their children. The agent bobbed his head some and began walking out of the office. "Just remember, there are those of us who are tasked with protecting this country from both foreign and domestic threats. This breakthrough could go a long way, although...we've gotten along the last few centuries without it. In case your interested, Hertz and her team have a presentation at the State Convention tomorrow. The outfit doesn't see it as a necessary thing to get involved in."
Charles would nod his head once and then speak in parting. "Good day, Nicholas. Cerebro will--" Nicholas would wave dismissively. "I know my way out." Charles would turn to look at the computer as the door to his office closed and he spoke. "Cerebro, pull up a list of the convention center's staff..." Charles spotted the first name and immediately began placing his right digits against his right temple of his head with intense concentration, swiftly Cerebro would begin drawing out a map of the convention center as Xavier transferred the information into the computer. Once finished he would transmit a telepathic message to Scott, creating a floating image of Xavier's head in front of Scott. ~Scott, come see me in my office. And inform the others of a faculty meaning in a few minutes, after I've finished speaking with you.~
(Cyclops)
Scott stopped in his tracks when he felt the message to his head. Without a word or second's longer thought, his feet immediately began to carry him forward and towards the Professor's office. He arrived outside the door within the minute, fist raising up and rapping against the door. After waiting for permission to entire, the male would quickly step inside and move to stand a few feet from the front of the desk of Xavier. "Professor?" his tone was clearly inquisitive, wondering what had come up that would cause for his immediate summons to the office. Whatever it was, in this moment, Scott was prepared to handle it and see whatever needed to be done accomplished with efficiency.
(Professor X)
Charles would signal for Scott to enter the office and wasted no time explaining. "Dr. Gwendolyn Hertz will be at the New York State convention Center tomorrow afternoon for a presentation of her new drug...This drug, activates the mutant genes within the recipient. I..." Charles' harden gaze would lower from Scott with a small pause in his words and fall to the desk in front of him and its dark amber shade. "...am afraid that she may be a target for perhaps extremist groups. Those who may look favorably or unfavorably upon mutants and what our impact can do to society. I took the liberty of obtaining the schematics of the convention center, they are thorough and detailed as of this moment."
Cerebro would reveal the schematic upon the screen. "I would like for you to devise a strategy for defending the doctor and prepare the X-Men for your first mission. As a secondary objective, I would encourage the Doctor to either destroy her research or trust it with no one...But that's not my decision, that is why I want the faculty meeting. It will be up to *you* X-Men to decide what should happen with the drug, if the threat you face is dangerous enough I'm sure you can give a compelling argument to Doctor Hertz. If you are perhaps more hopeful in the future, you may be able to persuade her otherwise. I don't know what you will encounter, for all we know it could be a wild goose chase...But I do not want a mutant drawing first blood."
Charles' gaze hardened on Scott in a manner implying mutual cooperation and determination to ensure this objective was understood.
(Christopher Xavier)
A shower was nearly always a good remedy to soothe the nerves, and as this day had gone on that was the one thing that he found he needed most. There were a lot of things questioning his motives for being here this late in the game. It was not as if he needed his father to hold his and while crossing the streets, or need him to take the training wheels off of his first real bike. The first meeting with him was not what he expected, but it was not horrible either. It was somewhere in between the concepts of bleh and okay at most. Charles was preoccupied, and that only suggested to him that his timing of running into him was bad…really bad. Dressing himself afterwards into a black long sleeve crew neck thermal and a pair of dark jeans and naturally black shoes he felt that taking a drive would further propagate a peace of mind, maybe stop and get a bite to eat while out; hence, it was why he found himself jingling his keys in his and while heading down the staircase to the main floor.
Christopher had a need for speed as well as a need for comfortability in his cars as suggested by his sports sedan parked in the garage. He needed to drop his fencing attire off for dry cleaning anyway, but the idea of that happening today wasn’t all that great. However, he’d leave he found it, at least, behooving to let his father know which is why he created a spherical construct no larger than a small marble within the palm of his hand and sent it off to Charles’ office. Being composed of psionic energy it was able to phase through walls and most nooks and crannies. When it arrived the light blue construct would blink to get Charles’ attention ”Fathah, I’m probably gonna to head out and get something to eat,” was the telepathic message encrypted in the sphere that would relay the message. ”Would you like something as well while I am gone, or is theah anything needed of me before I leave” it projected. Christopher remained downstairs until a reply was brought back. [e]
(Cyclops)
Scott moved forward, standing closer to the screen as he began to study it. His eyes picked apart each detail, searching the the layout. "First," he began, turning his attention towards the Professor with a glance and a pause, a subtle asking of permission to speak before continuing, "We can't have it here." His finger indicated a large room. "From what I can see, this is the main auditorium and where they will likely have this showing so the maximum amount of people can see it. That creates a security problem with too many people to make id checking safe. Even with the wide view, they'll likely darken it and fix extra light on the doctor for the cameras. The best place to have it will be here," He adjusted the screen and showed the second floor and pointed at a larger, but still noticeably smaller room from the first, one over from the corner. "Here's the best. The smaller location can, openly, be more about giving a smaller number of news channels 'exclusives' while limiting-c-
the number of participants in the audience. To us, it gives less faces for any one to lose themselves among. Secondly, we have two warning systems. First, here." He pointed to the corner room right next to the one he wished for the gathering. "We have one of us here. If they attack from the side or below, we have eyes out to spot any disturbances. And then here," he scrolled back to the first floor and pointed at the room directly beneath it. "This is another warning system. As long as Jean can maintain the telepathic link, even if they get to whoever they have in either room before they can warn us is warning enough the moment their minds go quiet. Third," he scrolled back up to the second floor and to the room that was the base of his plan, "We want the Doctor here, her back to the wall that is set against the inner building. Not outside. If they attack the outer wall with her positioned here, they will be hitting the crowd first. Dangerous, but it will give us time to -c-
react from the initial arrival and spray of dust and debris. With her back to this wall, we have options and time to go any direction required, especially with the warning from a frontal assault. Above will be an issue, but we cannot afford to spread ourselves any thinner by covering all sides. That leaves the main room too thin on guard and we can still be picked off in single numbers at greater risk to ourselves. With this in mind, I suggest we run this scenario in the danger room for the rest of the week, or longer if need be: Similar set up to this, but everyone in the main room. It needs to be filled with smoke, with civilians to protect and fire hazards. This will make us used to operation in the low visibility setting to start with. When the encounter begins each time we run it, it should be randomized between a cover and overt entrance that we must react to. Everyone must be ready to be in the main room as we cannot foresee the health of anyone one when the day comes -c
and we have to ensure everyone is able and ready to protect the target; therefore, they must be as adjusted to these conditions as any. If we are able to convince the doctor to not go through with this, at least on this day, extraction will be our priority. We'll need a vehicle positioned at the the side, here," he zoomed back from the map and pointed to the outside of the building on the right side. "We can use the side exit if we have time, but I can make the quick doors needed should things being to turn south. If anything starts immediate heated, the X-jet should be on standby and we can either make for the roof or the outside and, if worst comes to worst, Storm can lift the doctor up to it and the autopilot take her to a pre-programmed safe destination. As for how best we involve ourselves, if we're open about it and she is accepting of it, then diplomacy. If her safety and security is our main focus... then I suggest we pose as a private security firm hired for this -
assignment and let everything play out until after it's done. She will be less likely to be agitated once this showing is done and leaves us more options to adjust, that is unless you wish Jean to be persuasive. Sir." Scott finished his initial assessment and turned to face the Professor, awaiting his response.
A doctor successfully creates the mutant gene within a laboratory. Professor X fears that the research could fall into the wrong hands. Business leaders want to sell the product, politicians want to regulate it, the military wants to create super soldiers, and the single most important question goes unanswered; is it morally acceptable? The X-Men explore this question by examining themselves as they navigate a web of lies and mysteries surrounding the potential of this 'miracle.'
Roleplayer's writing
(Professor X)
"Through the course of human evolution, remarkable-incredible events have shaped and transformed society to what it is today. For every negative, tragic, or brutal event, humanity has persevere and has grown from's dark trial. There was once slavery, the French took the first step into recognizing individuality, that would later spark the United Nations to recognize human equality. We humanity was plagued by disease; one of the largest ecological genocide in our entire history, we had developed vaccinations. Through tyranny, we've created a weapon far more powerful than any nuclear bomb. We've harbored and embraced fear, as it is a critical component to our development. It was Bertrand Russell who said: 'Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the main sources of cruelty. To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom.'
Mr. Russell's words ring to the tale of the phoenix rising from the ashes. Humanity has a response and solution to fear and it will always be hope. Hope is what some say drives innovation. Unlike fear, hope cannot be manufactured, it is something that forms in the depths of our soul and ushers us into the unknown with the acceptance of fear while entertaining the possibility of change." Charles Xavier had finished speaking and reached for a glass of water to ease the dryness in his throat. He was a considerably built man with impressive upper body form, dressed in a pressed business suit that spared no expense with a dark brown hue for the coat and pants, that matched a pair of amber dress shoes.
"I'd like to welcome everyone to please help yourselves to refreshments in the table." Charles lifted his hand to a set of white tables bearing bowls of fruit, sandwiches, sliced chicken, among other plates of well cooked dinner and lunch meals. Charles would manipulate the control panel of his wheel chair allowing him to stroll off the set of a white stage with a podium and microphone. The ceremony was a welcoming of new students to the school while the exemplary cast of men and women sat behind Charles. Next to Scott would be Hank, who made a B-line for Charles as he stood up. "Professor, if you don't mind I should be going." Charles would offer his hand to Hank for an exchange "Thank you for coming, Hank. Stay in touch, Mister McCoy."
The weather would be beautiful, a clear sunshine, a soothing breeze that didn't make wearing a suit too unbearable. It was an unexplained feeling that Charles felt as he rode across the grass of the North field, the dormitories of the students stood directly in front of Charles as he stared off, his thoughts were on something - or someone else. He had tried to reach out to a friend with his telepathy, but he had no success and only obtained a unifying sensation across multiple minds. He would call to his lieutenants whom were only an ear shot from him. "Ororo and Scott, I will be in my office." Xavier stated with an emotionless tone, not uncommon to the man as he simply rode towards the dormitory signaling the double doors to open and allowing him passage through. The catering staff would seemingly be traveling about Xavier as they shuffled between the kitchen and the presentation.
Maids would be working to keep the grounds clean, some would smile and wave at Charles as he past them. Many of the servants on the grounds were somehow friends of Charles, aided and assisted from his days working for the C.I.A...Information that only the X-Men would know and the details were barely given to them regarding what he had done. Still, these aids were trustworthy people and were no where near afraid of the mutants they worked around.
(Christopher Xavier)
He was a young man with grand dreams of winning the gold medal this year at the Olympics, and despite the many ups and downs that occurred in his life, and there were indeed many, he managed to grasp of hold of just enough success to thrust him through that window of opportunity along with a few other young men that made up the foil, or fencing, team for the US. When practice, which was done on an average basis, was done he it took him a little time to drive all the way back to the school. He was fortunate enough to travel through light traffic, or what was considered light by the standards of New York, and the light green car pulled up into the school just a few minutes shy of the end of Charles’ speech. It took the next few minutes to head into the school and politely weave through the crowded nature, maids and students alike, to get to the hallway that would lead up to the staircase itself. The desire to change into another comfortable attire was there in his mind.
Perhaps the shorter and more often taken route would have been the choice he picked, but given the crowded nature of the hallways he opted to take the “back roads” to the boy’s dormitories where his room was located, which would have happened to take him right by the office of his father office, nothing uncommon when it came to avoiding having to be stopped and talked to. It was a more isolated route even for one that held as many people as it did at the moment, not that it was a bad thing, but at the moment he did not want to answer many questions particularly about his aspirations. [e]
(Cyclops)
Scott Summers stood beside the Professor as he made his speech, dressed in a pair of slacks, button up long sleeve shirt, and dress shoes. For the this, he had chosen a light brown pair of pants and shoes with a white top; much more welcoming to the newcomers than his normal attire. His eyes stared out at the ruby colored gathering before him and noted each of their faces. Some were excited. He knew how they felt. They had a chance to finally be at a place where they did not have to worry about their powers and the things that made them different from humanity. Others had the look of anger that he had seen in a few. He understood. To be ostracized by the world at large because of how you were born, something that you had no choice in the mater, and now had to be shunned away just for the simple feeling of safety. Most were scared. He empathized. Scott had been there in his own time and in many ways he still wasy. The gathering was made up of kids... afraid, lonely, hurt, -c
and confused about what they future would hold for them. It was only imagination that brought him any closer to what it felt like to have his family turn their back on him... to be scolded and spurned by the two people that brought you into this world without permission, presented you with presents, loved you every day of your life until the moment that you showed abilities beyond human. Despite what he felt, Scott's taciturn demeanor remained firmly in place, hands behind his back with the right holding onto the wrist of the left, until Xavier finished. At his departure, the brown haired male gave Xavier a nod, "Of course,Professor," shook Hank's hand as he moved away, took one more glance back to the students, and then went about his business.
(Gambit)
Gambit’s eyes opened and the sun was offensive, he groaned slightly and reached for the sunglasses that had been haphazardly placed on the nightstand and pulled them onto his face. The home he was in was excellent, filled with a spiral staircase, more rooms than anyone could ever use, a full rotating waiting staff known for their discretion and silk sheets that felt like you were sleeping on air. Still, in this moment, he couldn’t enjoy any of it, he had a job to do and a hangover to suffer through. Quietly, he turned and placed his bare toes on cloud like carpet and silently made his way about the room collecting his clothing and keeping the slumbering blonde that had been beside him in her state of unconsciousness. He didn’t like these types of entrances, he always felt some residual guilt, but in this instance, she’d told him that he wouldn’t be sticking around, if he took a few things with him? Well, you probably shouldn’t invite strange men into your home. -c-
His shirt was pulled over his shoulders, his jeans were tugged to his waist and his jacket was left resting at the foot of the bed for the moment, his boots were neglected as bare feet made it easier to move about without being heard. Shaking slightly, awareness began washing away the grogginess of the morning and he immediately began looking about. He checked the usual places, paintings on the wall that showed signs of being moved often, under the bed, then finally the closet. His hands easily slipped the collection of high priced clothes aside and there it was, the Sentry, electronic floor safe, complete with an electronic lock. Gambit reached into his pocket, removing his phone and using it’s light to study the touchpad. This model was excellent, expensive, nearly uncrackable, with no tumblers and three guessed before it has to be opened by a locksmith,the one weakness was, as with most things, human error. -c-
Grease from your fingers always smudged the foamy buttons of the keypad and from there it was simply seeing which were the most degraded to decipher the password. Now, Gambit was good, but deciphering a husband’s password after one particularly wild night with the wife wasn’t exactly in his wheelhouse, still, there were other options. He tried his first three guesses, two random combinations of the numbers he could tell were clearly used and the last, the mark’s birthday. There was a satisfying click that meant the safe was locked up and wouldn’t be opened by the owner’s code anymore. A message appeared on the digital display. “The safe is now locked, contact your provider.” Gambit grinned and went back to his phone, pressing send and placing the device to his ear. He kept his voice low. “Hey, dere homme’, I need a manufacturer’s fo’ a sentry model 2210, two years old I’d say.” -c-
His fingers went to the touchpad, entering the four number combination and the most satisfying click of all was heard. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get you yo’ cut, friend, be by after I get my share..” The call was ended an Gambit opened the safe quickly, there were several thousand dollars worth of jewelry that his nimble fingers were quick to grab and there in the back was the file he’d been sent to retrieve. The rules were simple, don’t open it, don’t look at it, just take it and make contact for the drop. Gambit didn’t have time to read it now, but curiosity had always been a weak point of his. The safe was closed, not locked and Gambit stepped back into the bedroom, tucking his hall under his coat and slipping his feet into his boots. His eyes fell onto the form of the woman who had been his ‘way in’ and he gave a brief nod. “Appreciate de night, chere, I’m sure you understand if Gambit don’t call, no?” -c-
She couldn’t hear him, but it was the polite thing to do, with the file in hand, he made his way out of the room and eventually the house, as planned. -e-
(Rogue)
“Yeah, Ah agree Logan” she replied to Wolverine, they had been talking about claws being really useful in general and, clearly she had them among her favorites, in her own borrowed version of it, that is, no adamantium but bones instead, well, much stronger than human bones anyway due to her new nature, but still bones. “Painful at first, then they’re okay” she added with a shrug of her shoulder. The two seemed to have been listening to Xavier, and now they have been speaking at times about their own things but standing to the side and resting against the wall. She was in casual clothes, nothing out of the ordinary including her gloves to prevent any accident in case that she felt like joining the crowd… which she had been considering for a while but only now figured that she would at least go and grab a drink. “Comin’?” she asked already knowing that he would give her a no for an answer, well, a shake of his head with maybe a grunt. -c-
“Ok sugah” she said before waving and walking away towards the drinks. Rogue greeted a few newcomers, patted a kid or two on the head and finally managed to make it to the drinks area. Of course there was no alcohol so, she got herself an unopened can of coke, and started to drink from it, only now noticing that the Professor and at least Scott were gone, she raised an eyebrow as she found it strange.-e-
(Professor X)
As he arrived into the office he could hear the voice through the vast amount of information coming into his mind. ~Turn on...the tele-television...Turn on the television...~ His eyes opened and he lowered his hands from his temples and he spoke. "Cerebro, television. Channel 6, please." "Yes, Professor." a soft feminine voice replied. A flat television screen would slide down from the ceiling on a mechanical limb, as Charles waited with anticipation he sat straight in his chair and intertwined his fingers while resting his elbows upon the arms of the chair. His eyes fixated upon the blank screen as it changed into a display.
"Doctor Gwendolyn Hertz has created a Miracle drug that taps into and unlocks the human's ability for mutant powers. Is this the start of human evolution or the dawn of a new super-powered weapon? Government officials are already attempting to push legislation on this miracle drug and Congress has been going back and forth on the debate of mutants for the past 20 years. This new drug seems to be sparking a controversy that's long over due." Charles stared at the television screen and his mind would flash to a moment in the past of him staring at his friend as he spoke. Erik leaned closer to Charles from his chair across from him and began explaining
"Has humanity not learned anything? Trading one tyrant for another? Replacing one prejudice with another? Look around us, Charles. There is no concept of right or wrong, good or evil, there is only 'the game' and whether it's the C.I.A or the K.G.B, we're just pawns. I'm tired of being someone else's pawn and I'm tired of being someone else's excuse for their behavior. United States or Soviet Russia, this decade it is nuclear arms, before that it was humanitarian rights, the one before that was conspiracy, the one before that was privileged society...They will repeat history, replace Fuhrer with President, Emperor with Prime Minister. The only ones deserving of power are those who are gifted with it. And when the time comes, I won't let them treat us as an excuse to commit genocide. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, like steel tempered in a forge, our time will be the future and we will break this cycle or be doomed to repeat it."
It was within the files a document outlining the creation of a mutant gene activation sequence. There was a lot of scientific information inside it that Gambit may not have understood, but he most likely understood a sentence that stated "Mutation activation via injection of Dimorphometagenetic accelerate." The drop man sat upon the park bench of central park, unsuspecting that the location would be changed in a few moments. Clint wore a signet ring labeled "M" for the Maggia crime syndicate based in Europe, he was relatively new to American criminal activity - only having a single decade of experience, his youthfulness allowed him to adapt in this environment to later educate his family in Europe. He sat patiently scrolling through twitter on his phone.
(Christopher Xavier)
The bag that Christopher toted was filled with articles of clothing and the smaller parts of his gear, the suit itself was left in the trunk of the car to be fetched a little later for dry cleaning; hence, why it was left in the car. A bit impractical would it have been to bring it into the house only to carry it back out, not a very pragmatic way of looking at things. The door to Charles’ office was open…that was odd. In the time he had been here had not seen the man once, and it was accompanied by the thought of him simply being busy as everyone seemed to have been these days. Nothing was said as he stopped in the middle of the doorway and took the moment to listen to what was being said on the television, something that was equally as drawing as his father was in regards to where his attention laid. “Unlocking mutant abilities...so, now we are being created through scientific means like lab rats to be experimented on,” he said aloud. There was a dual purpose his outspokenness served
It was not only meant to garner the attention of Charles, but it was also meant to start a conversation of perhaps mutual interest. “What happens if they unlock the wrong powahs within the wrong person, and what’s gonna happen to those who already have active mutations…that is saying they are to further such an idea,” was the question he posed. It seemed that he was already thinking ahead of longer term advancements as well as long term consequences to this project taking root as well as being improperly handled. An interesting way it was to introduce himself to the man he had never seen before until now. He sat his bag down on the ground for a moment and patted some of the wrinkles out of the off white long sleeve shirt he had on that was matched with a typical pair of blue jeans and equally white shoes. [e]
(Gambit)
Gambit held what he was sure was one of the greasiest burgers in the city, but it was cheap and somehow, delicious. There was a lot on his mind, he hadn’t understood the math or the science behind it all, but he’d seen enough. ‘Against Government protocol.’ ‘Non-FDA approved’ ‘Human evolution in pill form.’ They were going to make them, designer mutants to the highest bidder. You want to fly? Take the blue pill, Breathe underwater? The green. Powered up pill heads and all the dangers that implied. Usually, Gambit didn’t worry with the details, he was paid, the job was done, and it didn’t matter. Still, he knew, he knew why they wanted it, what it was and he had a pretty good idea of what they were going to do with it. Men in power always craved more power, it was a fact of life that made Gambit’s business so successful, if they had money they wanted more money, fame, more fame, enemies, total dominance. -c-
All of these things Gambit could deliver and more, but with all the information he’d gleaned, could he live with himself after? He saw the young man waiting for him, the ring on his hand a dead giveaway. “Dere he is, Gambit didn’ keep you waitin’ too long did I?” He finished the last bite of the burger and slid into the seat beside the man.-e-
(Professor X)
He turned from his seat to see Christopher, a cold gaze fell upon the man before him whom seemed almost like a younger and splitting image of himself, though a few of his mother's traits apparent. The boy's command of the English language was sufficiently lacking and not of the Xavier's lineage of academic prestige. Never the less Christopher's career in academia was worthy and not unexpected. The question was incorrect and the wrong one to ask, Charles didn't expect Christopher to know anything about genetics or the science behind mutations, Charles himself barely knew of it until Moira Kinross explained it all to him and of course Charles engrossed himself in this knowledge.
"The mutant gene cannot be 'added' like it's a virus. It's a dormant gene that is activated within the person, it's gift are inherit and cannot be changed or added onto. What is there is always there...Like your eyes do not change, your hair stays the same, your skin doesn't change." He stated with a clear lack of emotion, very pointed and to the facts. "Hello, Christopher, my apologies for not having sat down with you sooner...I've been busy." Charles didn't want to tell Christopher he had been secretly training a team of superheroes, but as it stood right now that seemed like the better route to go.
At the park, Clint would shift in his position and seemed a bit impatient and uncomfortable around Gambit or in the public place...which ever it was Gambit could sense the man wasn't calm. "I've been waiting for ten minutes. Do you have the package?"
(Christopher Xavier)
“Perhaps I should have rephrased myself,” he said to the seemingly emotionless man before him, a far contrasting difference from the expressive son of his. “What happens if the powahs that ah awakened ah mo-uah than the subject in question can handle,” he asked. Christopher’s accent was Boston at its finest, and one of the things that made it so popular both culturally speaking and in regards to mainstream media. Although it was, perhaps, not what his father expected it was there nonetheless, and so was he. “…and what about those who already have an active primary mutation, and perhaps anotha one that is dormant,” he asked. Christopher’s majors, which he had Masters in, were in Chemistry and Pharmaceuticals and although not exactly on the topic of genetics they were subjects that crossed over into it greatly. He was also from a family of mutants on his maternal side which naturally bolstered some of his knowledge, even with personal experience of his own abilities.
So although not as far into the specific category of genetics as his father, his academic background didn’t leave him without knowledge of it. Chris was also very intelligent despite the accent being thought of as below par of standard English by many. He said he was busy and Christopher’s response was “So I’ve heard,” before he added “It’s okay, theah is plenty of time, hopefully, for us to play catch up,”. Here was a man that was so in control of himself, and the other who wore his heart out on his sleeves. So different, but yet so alike in quite a few ways. Genetics…a finicky thing indeed. “Is it even propah for othahs to do this in the wake of all the negative limelight focused on mutants,” a question of ethics had just presented itself from one mutant to another. [e]
(Nemesis)
Brynjar was just a kid. Fear, panic; a sense of acceptance led him here. There were many just like him at the institute, here for the same reason. Control. He'd been there through the course of the speech, clinging to each word spoken by the Professor. Upon the climax of the speech, he'd taken notice to the many white tables carrying varies foods and drinks around. Being a bit peckish, he found himself already having a plate to indulge in the food provided. He'd seen it televised, just like everyone else had, someone had created a pill meant to unlock the mutant gene. It was in his opinion an abomination, the creation of something is nothing short of unnatural; an abomination. Could they ever truly fit in amongst the more naturally cultivated mutants? That was only a question time could answer, should this drug hit market. Over the course of his meal, Brynjar could not help his gaze lingering around each and every person that had joined him. Though he wasn't, he could not help but feel that lingering sense of being alone. Probably not the only one feeling that sensation. Though he'd not been here quite long, his tenure had permitted him to befriend a few residents here. One, in particular, had a habit of spewing vulgarity. But, that's who he was, how he was most likely raised. He could hear many various conversations roaming about, but all it came to, aside from those in close vicinity, was white noise.
(Cyclops)
Scott soon returned to the gathering of students, his eyes searching the crowd. Everyone seemed to be calming down and adjusting to their new surroundings. It would take time for them to adjust and accept that this would be their home, at least for as long as they were willing to stay. The elders here would try their best to keep any that wished to leave from going without being prepared, but the school was not a prison and, therefore, not meant to hide people away; sequestered into a corner of the world to be ignored or forgotten. Scott slipped through the crowd, his stoic face and cold presence aiding in keeping people from bumping into or otherwise trying to gain his attention. Working his way over to stand beside Rogue, he reached over into the ice bowl and pulled out a bottle of water, popping it open, "What do you think of the group, Anna?"
(Gambit)
“Calm down, homme, dis ain’t de place to de-liver, dis is de place where I make sure you didn’ set me up. We jus’ two guys talkin’ bout de weather far as anyone know.” He was nervous, which was good for Gambit whether it was because they were doing dirty deeds or because of Gambit’s demonic visage, Remy couldn’t be sure but it didn’t matter. “Now, we gonna sit aroun’, enjoy de day for a minute and den we gonna head to the south end of de park, see?” He took a look around, spotting several joggers, public places were always best, many organizations wouldn’t make a move on someone in broad daylight and gophers didn’t have the pull to make a decision on the spot. “Aight, I t’ink dat’s long enough, let’s go.” It may have seemed strange, but Gambit had a particular way he did things, the world was a nice place, but it was filled with not nice people. -c-
Gambit’s hands were in his pocket, one resting on a deck of opened playing cards, the other gripping his compact telescopic bo staff through a hole in the coat pocket, to keep the shape hidden. As they rounded a corner, two police cars were parked at the corner with the lights on. “Now, we get to de bad news, homme. I done a lotta t’ings in my life, I helped a man make a fortune on Wall street, robbed a couple mom and pop stores so dey’d sell de storefronts. I knew every con-se-quence of my actions, see? De way I look at it, I’m a guy wit one t’ing, de t’ing is dat, no matter how bad I was, I never did anyt’ing I couldn’t live wit. But dat file yo’ bosses want? I can’ live with dat. I called de two cops ova dere, told ‘im what you look like and said dat you was plannin’ to kill a guy who looked a lot like me. So, here yo’ options, you can go back to yo’ bosses and tell dem Gambit ain’t playin ball, den come try and fine me. -c-
Second option is me an’ you can have a little tussle and I can tell de nice po-lice man all about how you attacked me fo’ no good reason.” -e-
(Rogue)
By the time Scott was back and standing by her side, she had taken care of her coke, chit chatted with new kids, saw Wolverine sneaking out elsewhere, probably to find a beer she thought and now she was enjoying some chocolate ice-cream in a little glass bowl and, obviously with a small spoon, it was free, might as well eat some! She greeted Scott with a small wave of her now empty spoon, waiting a bit to reply because she had ice-cream in her mouth. “Ah don’t know to be honest, but overall they seem like nice kids, as normal as they can be, ya know? We got a couple of solitaries though” she said before subtly pointing at three of them that were standing in different places at a safe distance of the crowd. Luckily Rogue was subtle enough to not make anyone feel uncomfortable. “So where did Charles go? Thought that he would mingle with the rest after the speech but you guys disappeared” she asked with obvious curiosity, since she had seen them go earlier. -e-
(Professor X)
Remaining still and with the mechanics of a robot and perhaps the personality of one, Charles continued to answer Chris. "A secondary mutant gene is what you're questioning. And thus far there have been no such things. Mutations are given as a set, what we do with them is what some misunderstand as 'evolution' of our powers." ~For example, I can speak to you through your mind. Many of my abilities derive from my mind - the ability to communicate is but a drop of water in the ocean, Christopher.~ Charles stare would fixate on Christopher with an intense heat that one would expect from a hot summer's day. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was incredibly organized and each thought well calculated and anticipated. Only two men truly knew and understood Charles' thought process; Scott and Erik, and only the latter took the opportunity to analyze and objectively conflict with it, as Scott was still sub-servant to Charles' influence.
"I am unaware of any negative mutant outcries...Our community of people is still relatively small. I fear that this may be the beginning of something greater. This will re-ignite the mutant debate in the public. Something I've been preparing for, for the last twenty years." Charles' eyes for the first time in their conversation stared off to the wall next to the doorway, his mind was clearly off in another place as his face would seem to be mixed with confusion, distress, and concentration. Like how one would try to understand a complex painting and every stroke of a brush upon the canvas. Christopher may not have known how his father would feel about the conversation or about the man, but it would be quite typical of his interactions with everyone on the grounds. As Mr. Drake as noted 'Cerebro has more personality than Professor X.'
Clint would stand up and follow Gambit and as the terms and conditions were placed down Clint began to wiggle the ring around his finger as if building the courage to use his 'authority' on the thug. Instead Clint tapped his feel and bit his lower lip until forcing out of his mouth with contained frustration. "Why? Do you think those cops will protect you? If you know about us, you'd know we're not the kind of people you fuck with." Within his household and organization the vulgarity was disrespectful, but to Americans it was common procedure and protocol to build street credit.
Clint bit his lip and shook his head at Gambit and then took a few times back, raising his hands defenselessly into the air. "You just signed your death warrant. I suggest you reconsider. I need to talk to my boss, if you're lucky he'll let you sink to the bottom of the hudson."
(Christopher Xavier)
Charles was far greater in magnitude and ability that his grandfather of the same ability and upon making contact with Christopher unexpectedly caused him to become a bit mentally withdrawn towards the end of it, just a bit. The sensation of talking to mutant of a far greater level of power was a different experience despite Charles being very in control and at ease with it. The stare he gave was actually more pulling than pushing as his own blue eyes met his father’s eyes in conversation. Structure and wrapped tightly was the mind of a much more experienced telepathic mutant, and on some level it intrigued him. ” You gotta give me heads up fathah when you do that as your mind is intense, even mo-uah so your stare,” he responded telepathically. So that is how it felt to be on the receiving end of such ability. Interesting. He was familiar with communicating, but the deeper aspects of telepathy that his father referred to were something he had yet to truly explore. [c]
Christopher was more hands on and thus his powers evolved in a much more physical manner such as manifesting his telepathy in the form of psionic constructs programmed by him to relay messages. This was a rare moment he actually made direct contact with another and felt as if he was at a huge disadvantage. The vulnerable feeling that washed over him was foreign, When Charles stared off it was obvious what he was doing for the mere reason that the same often happened to him when he initially started opening up to that offshoot, or aspect, of his abilities. “Something wrong,” he asked as he turned around and picked up his bags. “Wanna go fo’ a stroll fathah,” he asked despite the latter word still feeling just a tad awkward. He needed to put his things up and thought about joining the others. [e]
(Cyclops)
Scott shifted his gaze towards the students that she pointed out, his head tilting a bit as he studied each of them. Two did have clear and noticeable mutations: one had what appeared to be smoke or steam constantly flowing up into the air from his body and, even though the other two stood near him, both seemed to avoid touching him. He he had to guess, then it had something to do with his body heat. Perhaps the start of some form of... heat manipulation perhaps? The other had two mismatched eyes that bugged out a bit from his sockets and constantly moved of their own accord; in addition to that, his fingers appeared to be webbed. The third was an interesting case. At least for Scott, he could not pick out anything different about him at the moment, position, and visual he had. "The Professor had business matters to attend to and as did I. I came back to check in, but if you need to speak with him, I can tell you where he is."
(Nemesis)
From time to time, solitude is what Brynjar sought out. To be alone wasn't a bad thing, nor was it necessarily a good thing either. However, being that he wasn't very well versed in the English language, it wasn't very hard to figure out why exactly Brynjar wasn't consorting with the rest of the mutants that did so. The language barrier sometimes was difficult, whatever the case, he got by a little with what conversations he'd had with the few he'd met. This is probably why he strayed away from the rest, avoiding conversations. he may have been practicing and studying the English language, but it was still difficult to carry on a conversation and speak it properly. To call Brynjar an interesting case would be putting it lightly, his particular mutation could be visualized, but one would have to bring it into play. But now was not the time, nor the place to be displaying powers; now was a time for consumption. There was always a reason for not associating with others, some didn't do it due to their powers, touching was a dangerous thing to them, some did it because language barrier, but most wouldn't talk to others due to the instilled fear of still being quite different. No matter how you look at it, they may be mutants, but they're all still very different. Finally looking up from his plate of food, the moment that Scott had placed attention on him, is when he took notice of him watching. Sunglasses? why would the man require to wear sunglasses inside? Did he have a vision issue? That was very possible. "Hello." the younger male spoke, not wishing to be rude.
(Professor X)
"My apologies if I was overwhelming. Understand that it's exciting to meet a fellow telepath, it is but a fraction of your powers, Christopher. And although you may not be what we consider omega level, you have great potential." "No." Charles stated simply as though he was coming back to reality. "No, please...Run along without me. I should look forward to working with you, Christopher. I would like to have dinner with you...perhaps not today as I have some things to take care of but, soon if that is alright with you?" Charles tried to be 'right' by a father's standards, but up until meeting Scott, Charles could only help but feel he was cursed with a good family. Scott was the son he never had, but never fully integrating with Scott like he could with Jean whom was a telepath as well.
Charles would await Chris' response and should he leave, Charles would stare the television as he waited for the next visitor to enter his office - for there was someone waiting patiently and within the shadows unknown to Christopher.
(Christopher Xavier)
He had things to attend to, and that was alright. However, there was this feeling of inadequacy. The meeting with his father for the first time wasn’t great as he expected it to be, but then again it was not bad either. It was…okay. “Sure,” was the short answer he got that was only hinted with uncertainty. Hopefully he was not expecting a longer response, but okay was just that, okay…far from great and only marginally better than good. Then again it was their first time meeting, and he was sure that their respective first impressions of each other were also…okay. Charles did seem to be distracted, and that only detracted to the value of the conversation. Disappointed? A little. However, there was plenty of time to make better on it, and that was what he hoped would happen in time. With that he moved out of the room and headed to his own to put his things away.
(Professor X)
"Intruder alert!" were the words of Cerebro within Xavier's office, prompting Charles to look to his doorway where a man dressed in blue business suit stood. Brown hair with graying side burns and an eye patch upon his left side. "Sophisticated security system, easily bypassed, though." The man spoke as though slightly. An atmosphere of no non-sense surrounded the man as determined foot steps entered the office. Charles spoke calmly. "This is a school, not a top secret government agency. Why are you here?" "You know why I'm here, Charles. Over twenty years ago, you wrote a report stating that Erik Magnus Lehnsherr was a potential threat should the mutant population increase and/or if Government proposes regulation upon them." Charles didn't react and simply remained cold and calm despite the sort of interrogation being given to him. "I also stated that it was to any Government, not strictly the United States."
Charles watched as the government agent stared him down. "You're not a government agency, but you mean to tell me you've been training these kids for...what? Psych studies on human behavior? A war is coming Charles and some might believe you're preparing for it--" Charles would interrupt. "--Or...I'm preparing to prevent one." Despite his cold demeanor, Charles words held a determined and protective tone that a parent would have over their children. The agent bobbed his head some and began walking out of the office. "Just remember, there are those of us who are tasked with protecting this country from both foreign and domestic threats. This breakthrough could go a long way, although...we've gotten along the last few centuries without it. In case your interested, Hertz and her team have a presentation at the State Convention tomorrow. The outfit doesn't see it as a necessary thing to get involved in."
Charles would nod his head once and then speak in parting. "Good day, Nicholas. Cerebro will--" Nicholas would wave dismissively. "I know my way out." Charles would turn to look at the computer as the door to his office closed and he spoke. "Cerebro, pull up a list of the convention center's staff..." Charles spotted the first name and immediately began placing his right digits against his right temple of his head with intense concentration, swiftly Cerebro would begin drawing out a map of the convention center as Xavier transferred the information into the computer. Once finished he would transmit a telepathic message to Scott, creating a floating image of Xavier's head in front of Scott. ~Scott, come see me in my office. And inform the others of a faculty meaning in a few minutes, after I've finished speaking with you.~
(Cyclops)
Scott stopped in his tracks when he felt the message to his head. Without a word or second's longer thought, his feet immediately began to carry him forward and towards the Professor's office. He arrived outside the door within the minute, fist raising up and rapping against the door. After waiting for permission to entire, the male would quickly step inside and move to stand a few feet from the front of the desk of Xavier. "Professor?" his tone was clearly inquisitive, wondering what had come up that would cause for his immediate summons to the office. Whatever it was, in this moment, Scott was prepared to handle it and see whatever needed to be done accomplished with efficiency.
(Professor X)
Charles would signal for Scott to enter the office and wasted no time explaining. "Dr. Gwendolyn Hertz will be at the New York State convention Center tomorrow afternoon for a presentation of her new drug...This drug, activates the mutant genes within the recipient. I..." Charles' harden gaze would lower from Scott with a small pause in his words and fall to the desk in front of him and its dark amber shade. "...am afraid that she may be a target for perhaps extremist groups. Those who may look favorably or unfavorably upon mutants and what our impact can do to society. I took the liberty of obtaining the schematics of the convention center, they are thorough and detailed as of this moment."
Cerebro would reveal the schematic upon the screen. "I would like for you to devise a strategy for defending the doctor and prepare the X-Men for your first mission. As a secondary objective, I would encourage the Doctor to either destroy her research or trust it with no one...But that's not my decision, that is why I want the faculty meeting. It will be up to *you* X-Men to decide what should happen with the drug, if the threat you face is dangerous enough I'm sure you can give a compelling argument to Doctor Hertz. If you are perhaps more hopeful in the future, you may be able to persuade her otherwise. I don't know what you will encounter, for all we know it could be a wild goose chase...But I do not want a mutant drawing first blood."
Charles' gaze hardened on Scott in a manner implying mutual cooperation and determination to ensure this objective was understood.
(Christopher Xavier)
A shower was nearly always a good remedy to soothe the nerves, and as this day had gone on that was the one thing that he found he needed most. There were a lot of things questioning his motives for being here this late in the game. It was not as if he needed his father to hold his and while crossing the streets, or need him to take the training wheels off of his first real bike. The first meeting with him was not what he expected, but it was not horrible either. It was somewhere in between the concepts of bleh and okay at most. Charles was preoccupied, and that only suggested to him that his timing of running into him was bad…really bad. Dressing himself afterwards into a black long sleeve crew neck thermal and a pair of dark jeans and naturally black shoes he felt that taking a drive would further propagate a peace of mind, maybe stop and get a bite to eat while out; hence, it was why he found himself jingling his keys in his and while heading down the staircase to the main floor.
Christopher had a need for speed as well as a need for comfortability in his cars as suggested by his sports sedan parked in the garage. He needed to drop his fencing attire off for dry cleaning anyway, but the idea of that happening today wasn’t all that great. However, he’d leave he found it, at least, behooving to let his father know which is why he created a spherical construct no larger than a small marble within the palm of his hand and sent it off to Charles’ office. Being composed of psionic energy it was able to phase through walls and most nooks and crannies. When it arrived the light blue construct would blink to get Charles’ attention ”Fathah, I’m probably gonna to head out and get something to eat,” was the telepathic message encrypted in the sphere that would relay the message. ”Would you like something as well while I am gone, or is theah anything needed of me before I leave” it projected. Christopher remained downstairs until a reply was brought back. [e]
(Cyclops)
Scott moved forward, standing closer to the screen as he began to study it. His eyes picked apart each detail, searching the the layout. "First," he began, turning his attention towards the Professor with a glance and a pause, a subtle asking of permission to speak before continuing, "We can't have it here." His finger indicated a large room. "From what I can see, this is the main auditorium and where they will likely have this showing so the maximum amount of people can see it. That creates a security problem with too many people to make id checking safe. Even with the wide view, they'll likely darken it and fix extra light on the doctor for the cameras. The best place to have it will be here," He adjusted the screen and showed the second floor and pointed at a larger, but still noticeably smaller room from the first, one over from the corner. "Here's the best. The smaller location can, openly, be more about giving a smaller number of news channels 'exclusives' while limiting-c-
the number of participants in the audience. To us, it gives less faces for any one to lose themselves among. Secondly, we have two warning systems. First, here." He pointed to the corner room right next to the one he wished for the gathering. "We have one of us here. If they attack from the side or below, we have eyes out to spot any disturbances. And then here," he scrolled back to the first floor and pointed at the room directly beneath it. "This is another warning system. As long as Jean can maintain the telepathic link, even if they get to whoever they have in either room before they can warn us is warning enough the moment their minds go quiet. Third," he scrolled back up to the second floor and to the room that was the base of his plan, "We want the Doctor here, her back to the wall that is set against the inner building. Not outside. If they attack the outer wall with her positioned here, they will be hitting the crowd first. Dangerous, but it will give us time to -c-
react from the initial arrival and spray of dust and debris. With her back to this wall, we have options and time to go any direction required, especially with the warning from a frontal assault. Above will be an issue, but we cannot afford to spread ourselves any thinner by covering all sides. That leaves the main room too thin on guard and we can still be picked off in single numbers at greater risk to ourselves. With this in mind, I suggest we run this scenario in the danger room for the rest of the week, or longer if need be: Similar set up to this, but everyone in the main room. It needs to be filled with smoke, with civilians to protect and fire hazards. This will make us used to operation in the low visibility setting to start with. When the encounter begins each time we run it, it should be randomized between a cover and overt entrance that we must react to. Everyone must be ready to be in the main room as we cannot foresee the health of anyone one when the day comes -c
and we have to ensure everyone is able and ready to protect the target; therefore, they must be as adjusted to these conditions as any. If we are able to convince the doctor to not go through with this, at least on this day, extraction will be our priority. We'll need a vehicle positioned at the the side, here," he zoomed back from the map and pointed to the outside of the building on the right side. "We can use the side exit if we have time, but I can make the quick doors needed should things being to turn south. If anything starts immediate heated, the X-jet should be on standby and we can either make for the roof or the outside and, if worst comes to worst, Storm can lift the doctor up to it and the autopilot take her to a pre-programmed safe destination. As for how best we involve ourselves, if we're open about it and she is accepting of it, then diplomacy. If her safety and security is our main focus... then I suggest we pose as a private security firm hired for this -
assignment and let everything play out until after it's done. She will be less likely to be agitated once this showing is done and leaves us more options to adjust, that is unless you wish Jean to be persuasive. Sir." Scott finished his initial assessment and turned to face the Professor, awaiting his response.
