Post by The Man on Jun 30, 2007 9:00:03 GMT -5
Posted by The Man on Mar 31, 2007, 11:10pm
((OOC: Another April Fool's Day thread. Part One of the Saga.))
::The rain fell from the darkened heavens, as if God himself knew what had happened, disapproved, and wanted it known to all mortals. The sun had been taken away because Charles Xavier dared fly too close to it and usurp the powers of beings beyond the conception of mankind, beyond that of mutantkind.
Lightning flashed around the mansion; thunder on its heels, dangerously close. The sound roared in his ears, loud enough that he should involuntarily shudder. That he should feel discomfort, that he should feel cold. That he should sincerely wish that he was inside his office rather than wheeling slowly across the front lawn. Instead, he was merely numb.
The wind whipped across his back; the rain beat against his skin, soaking through his clothing, tattered as they were. The lightning flashed before his eyes; the thunder echoed in his ears. None of it drew even the slightest reaction. Charles Xavier wasn't there.
He was hundreds of miles away, and several hours in the past. Back at Erik's cabin...
His discussion with Phoebe had weighed heavily on his mind for weeks. His discussion with Raven had only momentarily distracted him from the ethical concern. What was he to do? Erik was lost; he had become Magneto. And Magneto was dangerous, insane, unreasonable. He was the mutant Hitler, just as driven, just as charismatic, but all the more powerful, fueled by stubborness, vengeance, and controlling one of the four forces of nature. Like Hitler, he needed to be stopped, for as long as he lived, he was a threat.
Despite it all, he had taken the Blackbird and flown to the other man's cabin, planning to reason with him once more. And, failing that, to make peace with the other man and with himself in the wake of his moral obligation.
Magnus had sensed his wheelchair and had met him outside; still having refused to build a ramp. It was humiliating, that a cabin with no metal for the other man to control could be an impenetrable fortress to Xavier, because it had stairs.
Magnus had smiled at him, that cruel, condescending smile of triumph, as he stopped at the stairs, unable to go further. It only drove home the fact that this was not Erik Lehnsherr, the young man he had met when he was seventeen; his lover for years; the man who had helped him build Cerebro and had once shared his dream. This wasn't the man who had become consumed with guilt over his disability, because Erik hadn't been there to protect him. And cars that contained Erik Lehnsherr never crashed.
That man was gone. In his place stood a cruel, sinister man, who wore the aged face of his first and greatest love. A man who had used people and discarded them like tissues when he was finished with them. A man who had hurt everyone he had encounted in the last few years. A man who was motivated by vengeance and yet had almost as much blood on his hands as those whose faces haunted his dreams.
"Why do you insist on coming here, Charles?" Magnus had asked him, his tone weary. That weariness, the same as that which had led Xavier to believe that the other man had changed, that he had redeemed himself in light of his actions.
"To talk," he had responded, measured earnesty in his own voice. He refused to be seen as weak, to be mocked again outside this very cabin. But he had needed to impart the importance of this conversation.
"There's nothing more to say," Magnus had responded coldly. As though he were talking to an obnoxious salesman, rather than his oldest friend and ex-lover. The distance in his eyes, in his voice, it was unnerving. That he could shut out memories, feelings, that might cause him to waver in his goal...it was inhuman. More than that, it was wrong.
Xavier had plead with him, then, in not so many words, to speak, pressing the urgency of their conversation. But the other man had shut him out, verbally, with body posture. Finally, he had asked Magnus if he would at least reconsider helping fight Project Wideawake.
"Not on your terms. They chose to strike first, we must show them no mercy," the other man had replied. There was fire in his eyes then, a cruel gleam. No mercy...the words echoed in his mind.
Xavier felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought, billions of humans dead in retalliation for the acts of a few. He couldn't let it happen. He wouldn't let it happen. Hands gripping tightly the arms of his wheelchair, he opened his mind and focused on the other man's.
Magnus had left himself defenseless against mental attack, believing that Xavier had gone soft. That his reluctance to even read thoughts deep enough to see that he had been recruiting students since his return meant he was safe, that he didn't need to fear. That Charles Xavier would never hurt him. Place him under arrest, perhaps, and still visit every week. But never hurt him...
How wrong the other man had been. Xavier had meant his threat, that he would do anything to protect his X-Men, his children, his dream. That the man who came to his school searching for trouble would find it in him. It wasn't supposed to be Erik, but Erik was gone.
Xavier had sliced open his mind without mercy, digging through the layers for the man Erik once had been. And he had destroyed everything in his wake, years of memories, decades of feelings, thoughts, experiences. Everything until he had found that frightened teenager who had survived Auschwitz. That young man who had seen far too much in his few years in this life. And had clung to Xavier gratefully when they had first met, who had imprinted upon him like a duckling.
He had faltered, then, seeing the Erik he had fallen in love with. Frightened, confused, and needy. The expression in his eyes brought back feelings begun decades ago, including his first protective urges. He couldn't leave the other man here, like that. With such scars in his mind, it would have been cruel. So in the end, he had taken those too. Taken the pain, the memories, the knowledge of his powers. Leaving him a blank slate, but for his name, and an unstained soul.
Erik had collapsed then, under the weight of nothingness. He fell forward into Xavier's arms. He held the other man's unconscious form, stroking back the hair from his forehead and shedding the tears he had held for years. Tears for Erik, for the pain between them, and for his own lost soul. *Go forth and love,* he had impressed upon that malleable mind. Then he had left him there, returning to Westchester.
The sky had begun to rain down, miles upon miles of rain. He had left the Blackbird on the far side of the grounds, believing it better than risking another crash. And so he had wheeled from the edge of the grounds to the front door. The rain beating against him, soaking him through and through.
He had nearly reached the front door, when the sheer force of will to keep himself conscious broke beneath him. His eyes slipped closed and all went dark. With a whispered, "Goodbye Erik," he fell from his wheelchair onto the cool, damp grass.::
Posted by Mystique on Mar 31, 2007, 11:50pm
Mystique had been walking past a window, noticing that the rain had begun to come down harder, when she saw something on the grounds. Going closer to the window, she saw that it was a wheelchair. With something lying in front of it.
She hadn't seen Charles all morning. She panicked and bolted outside, into the rain.
"Charles?" She asked, frantic as she discovered him unconscious on the ground. It was only a few feet to the front door, so she half carried him onto the porch, setting him down and leaning over him, with his head in her lap. He was soaked, unconscious and cold. "Charles, please, answer me," she said, her voice racked with fear. What should she do? She didn't want to leave him, but she needed help.
Posted by Knightmare on Mar 31, 2007, 11:53pm
::he walked up to his window, looking out over the grounds. He looked down and saw Professor's wheelchair...but no Xavier. He squinted against the rain, cupping his hands over his eyes and saw Mystique, holding the Professor in her lap, his eyes went wide and he bolted out the window, shadow swinging himself to where they were:: Oh my God! What happened??
Posted by Mystique on Mar 31, 2007, 11:55pm
"I don't know!" She cried, eyes moving from Charles to Tim, who had just appeared on the porch next to them using his shadows. "He needs help, now!!"
Posted by Knightmare on Mar 31, 2007, 11:59pm
Ok...ok...uhh, I think we should take him to the labs, here, let me carry him.... ::he crouched down, scooping him up in a cradle and making towards the front door::
Posted by Mystique on Apr 1, 2007, 12:13am
She followed behind, nervous and scared, and watching Tim carry the man she cared so much about, looking like a lifeless sack of potatoes. Please be okay, please, she prayed silently.
Posted by Knightmare on Apr 1, 2007, 12:16am
::he pulled the front door open, barely, then the rest of the way with his foot, he jogged into the Mansion, looking back over his shoulder to make sure Mystique was following::
Posted by Mystique on Apr 1, 2007, 12:28am
She had to run to keep up with him, but she stayed with him, concern etched in her features as they hurried down to the Lab, past the scared looks of students and their questions.
((Now let's move this on to the lab...))
((OOC: Another April Fool's Day thread. Part One of the Saga.))
::The rain fell from the darkened heavens, as if God himself knew what had happened, disapproved, and wanted it known to all mortals. The sun had been taken away because Charles Xavier dared fly too close to it and usurp the powers of beings beyond the conception of mankind, beyond that of mutantkind.
Lightning flashed around the mansion; thunder on its heels, dangerously close. The sound roared in his ears, loud enough that he should involuntarily shudder. That he should feel discomfort, that he should feel cold. That he should sincerely wish that he was inside his office rather than wheeling slowly across the front lawn. Instead, he was merely numb.
The wind whipped across his back; the rain beat against his skin, soaking through his clothing, tattered as they were. The lightning flashed before his eyes; the thunder echoed in his ears. None of it drew even the slightest reaction. Charles Xavier wasn't there.
He was hundreds of miles away, and several hours in the past. Back at Erik's cabin...
His discussion with Phoebe had weighed heavily on his mind for weeks. His discussion with Raven had only momentarily distracted him from the ethical concern. What was he to do? Erik was lost; he had become Magneto. And Magneto was dangerous, insane, unreasonable. He was the mutant Hitler, just as driven, just as charismatic, but all the more powerful, fueled by stubborness, vengeance, and controlling one of the four forces of nature. Like Hitler, he needed to be stopped, for as long as he lived, he was a threat.
Despite it all, he had taken the Blackbird and flown to the other man's cabin, planning to reason with him once more. And, failing that, to make peace with the other man and with himself in the wake of his moral obligation.
Magnus had sensed his wheelchair and had met him outside; still having refused to build a ramp. It was humiliating, that a cabin with no metal for the other man to control could be an impenetrable fortress to Xavier, because it had stairs.
Magnus had smiled at him, that cruel, condescending smile of triumph, as he stopped at the stairs, unable to go further. It only drove home the fact that this was not Erik Lehnsherr, the young man he had met when he was seventeen; his lover for years; the man who had helped him build Cerebro and had once shared his dream. This wasn't the man who had become consumed with guilt over his disability, because Erik hadn't been there to protect him. And cars that contained Erik Lehnsherr never crashed.
That man was gone. In his place stood a cruel, sinister man, who wore the aged face of his first and greatest love. A man who had used people and discarded them like tissues when he was finished with them. A man who had hurt everyone he had encounted in the last few years. A man who was motivated by vengeance and yet had almost as much blood on his hands as those whose faces haunted his dreams.
"Why do you insist on coming here, Charles?" Magnus had asked him, his tone weary. That weariness, the same as that which had led Xavier to believe that the other man had changed, that he had redeemed himself in light of his actions.
"To talk," he had responded, measured earnesty in his own voice. He refused to be seen as weak, to be mocked again outside this very cabin. But he had needed to impart the importance of this conversation.
"There's nothing more to say," Magnus had responded coldly. As though he were talking to an obnoxious salesman, rather than his oldest friend and ex-lover. The distance in his eyes, in his voice, it was unnerving. That he could shut out memories, feelings, that might cause him to waver in his goal...it was inhuman. More than that, it was wrong.
Xavier had plead with him, then, in not so many words, to speak, pressing the urgency of their conversation. But the other man had shut him out, verbally, with body posture. Finally, he had asked Magnus if he would at least reconsider helping fight Project Wideawake.
"Not on your terms. They chose to strike first, we must show them no mercy," the other man had replied. There was fire in his eyes then, a cruel gleam. No mercy...the words echoed in his mind.
Xavier felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought, billions of humans dead in retalliation for the acts of a few. He couldn't let it happen. He wouldn't let it happen. Hands gripping tightly the arms of his wheelchair, he opened his mind and focused on the other man's.
Magnus had left himself defenseless against mental attack, believing that Xavier had gone soft. That his reluctance to even read thoughts deep enough to see that he had been recruiting students since his return meant he was safe, that he didn't need to fear. That Charles Xavier would never hurt him. Place him under arrest, perhaps, and still visit every week. But never hurt him...
How wrong the other man had been. Xavier had meant his threat, that he would do anything to protect his X-Men, his children, his dream. That the man who came to his school searching for trouble would find it in him. It wasn't supposed to be Erik, but Erik was gone.
Xavier had sliced open his mind without mercy, digging through the layers for the man Erik once had been. And he had destroyed everything in his wake, years of memories, decades of feelings, thoughts, experiences. Everything until he had found that frightened teenager who had survived Auschwitz. That young man who had seen far too much in his few years in this life. And had clung to Xavier gratefully when they had first met, who had imprinted upon him like a duckling.
He had faltered, then, seeing the Erik he had fallen in love with. Frightened, confused, and needy. The expression in his eyes brought back feelings begun decades ago, including his first protective urges. He couldn't leave the other man here, like that. With such scars in his mind, it would have been cruel. So in the end, he had taken those too. Taken the pain, the memories, the knowledge of his powers. Leaving him a blank slate, but for his name, and an unstained soul.
Erik had collapsed then, under the weight of nothingness. He fell forward into Xavier's arms. He held the other man's unconscious form, stroking back the hair from his forehead and shedding the tears he had held for years. Tears for Erik, for the pain between them, and for his own lost soul. *Go forth and love,* he had impressed upon that malleable mind. Then he had left him there, returning to Westchester.
The sky had begun to rain down, miles upon miles of rain. He had left the Blackbird on the far side of the grounds, believing it better than risking another crash. And so he had wheeled from the edge of the grounds to the front door. The rain beating against him, soaking him through and through.
He had nearly reached the front door, when the sheer force of will to keep himself conscious broke beneath him. His eyes slipped closed and all went dark. With a whispered, "Goodbye Erik," he fell from his wheelchair onto the cool, damp grass.::
Posted by Mystique on Mar 31, 2007, 11:50pm
Mystique had been walking past a window, noticing that the rain had begun to come down harder, when she saw something on the grounds. Going closer to the window, she saw that it was a wheelchair. With something lying in front of it.
She hadn't seen Charles all morning. She panicked and bolted outside, into the rain.
"Charles?" She asked, frantic as she discovered him unconscious on the ground. It was only a few feet to the front door, so she half carried him onto the porch, setting him down and leaning over him, with his head in her lap. He was soaked, unconscious and cold. "Charles, please, answer me," she said, her voice racked with fear. What should she do? She didn't want to leave him, but she needed help.
Posted by Knightmare on Mar 31, 2007, 11:53pm
::he walked up to his window, looking out over the grounds. He looked down and saw Professor's wheelchair...but no Xavier. He squinted against the rain, cupping his hands over his eyes and saw Mystique, holding the Professor in her lap, his eyes went wide and he bolted out the window, shadow swinging himself to where they were:: Oh my God! What happened??
Posted by Mystique on Mar 31, 2007, 11:55pm
"I don't know!" She cried, eyes moving from Charles to Tim, who had just appeared on the porch next to them using his shadows. "He needs help, now!!"
Posted by Knightmare on Mar 31, 2007, 11:59pm
Ok...ok...uhh, I think we should take him to the labs, here, let me carry him.... ::he crouched down, scooping him up in a cradle and making towards the front door::
Posted by Mystique on Apr 1, 2007, 12:13am
She followed behind, nervous and scared, and watching Tim carry the man she cared so much about, looking like a lifeless sack of potatoes. Please be okay, please, she prayed silently.
Posted by Knightmare on Apr 1, 2007, 12:16am
::he pulled the front door open, barely, then the rest of the way with his foot, he jogged into the Mansion, looking back over his shoulder to make sure Mystique was following::
Posted by Mystique on Apr 1, 2007, 12:28am
She had to run to keep up with him, but she stayed with him, concern etched in her features as they hurried down to the Lab, past the scared looks of students and their questions.
((Now let's move this on to the lab...))