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T O · E A R T H · 7 4 0
One cannot break the rules of time and space without suffering the consequences... much less four...
What have they brought with them? What has been lost?
The [REVOLUTION] is coming.
But this time, the villains have the upperhand..
· N O · S O L D I E R ·
· OUTLIVES · A · THOUSAND · CHANCES ·
P L O T
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Organic Metal Form
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Joined: 10-April 11
"You know, maybe I will take the water." Martin seemed to I ally understand the need for the water, and Piotr obliged him the cup which the boy gulped down and tossed into a small trash can nearby. The boy seemed slightly embarrassed at Rasputin's jest, and the mutant reminded himself to go easier on the kid.
The corpse responded to the metal man's suggestions, “We do not shelter anyone here... Due to the attacks... Although it would probably be easiest for him to not move ... It would only cause him to walk a further distance to reach your vehicle."
Piotr frowned for a moment, feeling as if suddenly he and Martin were unwelcome here at the Corps, but the feeling passed and he figured she was just not one to beat around the bush. He knew quite a few women like that it seemed. Nodding his head, the metallic Colossus patted Martin on the shoulder.
"Understood, Tovarischa. Once my friend feels up to it, I believe that we shall take our leave. It would not do us or you any service at all should we overstay our usefulness."
"Is there a bathroom around?" Martin took off in the direction of the restroom and the. It was just Piotr and the Corpse.
"How long have you worked for the X-Corps, ma'am?" Piotr said, trying to keep the moment from turning into an awkward silence. Usually he was fine with silence, but considering the situation, he felt that maybe if he kept this one talking that she wouldn't remind them yet again that they shouldn't still be here
Eventually Martin returned from the bathroom. "Sorry for the wait, I was just cooling myself down." Martin's grin opened up a window for Piotr to speak again. The student was feeling better, so they could leave without him being carried. That was good.
"Well, it seems that we are prepared to head out, so thank you again for your guidance, and we shall return when we can be of better use than we currently are. Thanks and goodbye, Ma'am." he said, leading Martin back to the entrance door and through it. After they had walked a few yards, Piotr asked.
"Ok, what is wrong with you? There's gotta be something up."
Necromancy / Necrokinesis
Group: Horizon Labs
Member No.: 316
Joined: 6-July 08
It wasn’t so much that the two men weren’t wanted within the building. Well, they weren’t, not for the time they weren’t. It was just that no one was being sheltered within the building. It was still in repair, it was unsuitable for anyone. The corpse had hoped they would have understood it wasn’t that long ago that they were attacked; the gaping holes on some of the upper floor had yet to have been repaired.
As it appeared on their faces, though, the men did not understand and seemed slightly upset that they couldn’t stay. The blue hued girl had a feeling that they would soon change their minds on that feeling, because it was as if Martin had listened in on the private conversation, that no one else normally heard, between herself and the Sergeant and took the water that was previously offered.
The Dead Girl stood, staring as Martin spoke, "I think wherever you can hold us up for the night will be fine for us, but if you'll excuse me, is there a bathroom around?" She pointed down the way for him and as soon as he left, she turned to the metal man; it seemed both had the idea that it was her choice to deny them shelter; she didn’t bother to try and explain why that was.
The Sergeant mirrored her thoughts, ”Building got blown to bits. And, this is a daggum business… even if it wasn’t blown to bits this ain’t some damn shelter, we help people here, not foster them.” Moonbeam looked over to the side and shrugged her shoulders. The Sergeant was always critical of people. While he was just starting to like Hartley, he still found Riva to be as he called her ‘a red haired Cajun twit’.
The corpse was more forgiving of the living. After all, if it wasn’t for a premature death, and a mutation that sparked her back to the life of the living dead, she still would have been a living, breathing human. The metal man had asked her a question. Having not known his name, as he didn’t speak what it was when they initially met, she assumed the metal man hadn’t spoken his name on a sort of level like she didn’t use her name.
Perhaps he was always metal and found no real reason for him to use his name. Or his parents didn’t name him. For the Dead Girl, she had rarely spoken her name because Moonbeam was the name of a girl who died in a hotel room so many years ago. That girl was a rising star, cut down from life before she could experience it. That wasn’t who she was anymore.
She answered his question, “For a few years now. I don’t keep much track of time. I was previously employed from the old leader. I was still being paid but never called, I assumed the old leader of X-Corps had forgotten I was an employee and lost my number. I returned when Hartley asked me if I’d like to return.” The corpse didn’t bother with particulars when it came to how her employment was dropped, all she knew was she had volunteered one moment and the next she was buried, figuratively speaking.
Martin had returned shortly after she had answered, apologizing for the wait and giving his reason. The grin he gave was false, the Sergeant was skilled in such things, Moonbeam was not. But even she could tell his smile was a fake one. The metal man bid his fare wells and finished by saying, ”Thanks and goodbye, Ma'am." As they walked off she called out after them, “My name is Dead Girl… and you are welcome. Be safe in your travels.”
It wasn’t until they exited the building that she turned on her heels and headed in the opposite direction. ”So what now? They come back tomorrow for more stupid ass questions? If they help… give metal head the heavy lifting, the yuppie looks like he could be blown over by a gentle breeze in the middle of fucking Spring.”
The corpse kept walking as she replied to the Sergeant, “Maybe all they need is rest.” The Sergeant scoffed and replied, ”Rest my ass. Those two pansies need some fucking discipline.” She nodded, acknowledging his words and replied, “Still… we can’t look a gift’s horse by mouth.”
The Sergeant sighed, ”It’s a gift horse in the mouth, Moonbeam.” He paused, ”Bah, maybe you’re right… Send them to that lamebrain moron, Jackson though, that boy needs more responsibilities.” She smirked, ever so slightly, “Yes sir…”
[Exit Dead Girl]
The EX-Corpse of X-Corps
Crystalline Skeletal Structure/ Explosive Crystal Projectiles
Group: Legacy Squad
Member No.: 1,411
Joined: 11-August 11
JP Martin and Colossus
They had finally left the X-Corps building. Martin had found the situation quite nerve racking once his episode started up. He'd never experienced something like that except for the time Tomas had gotten lost in the forest. With his head down, Martin slowly started to recollect what had happened.
It was the middle of December in Susquehanna and as always, it was a chilled and snowy Winter. Martin and Tomas were the young age of eleven years old and they were enjoying their time off from school. They made snowmen, snow angels, and any other snow-somethings they could come up with. The more adventurous Tomas said they should go past the treeline and explore.
“It's the perfect day!” Tomas had exclaimed.
“No Tomas, mom says we can't go out there!” Martin replied.
“Ugh, you're such a stickler! I'm outta here!” Tomas had made up his mind and ran off.
“You better come back Tomas, or mom will find you a beat you!” Martin threatened, having no regard for the other houses near by that could get the impression that the two children were being beaten.
Thinking no more of it, the young Martin marched back onto the porch and plopped himself down on the cold wooden planks. Picking up some toys, he let a story roll through his mind, his action figures his cast to play out his every demand. Before he knew it, the sun was setting and the air had gotten twice as chilly than before. Martin looked toward the treeline, and Tomas still had not returned. The ping of guilt he felt resonated within him. What if he'd gotten hurt? What if he'd died!? His young mind ran with dreadful ideas. Martin jumped up and ran inside to tell his mother when...
“Ok, what is wrong with you? There's gotta be something up.”
His Russian friend's heavy accent pulled him right out of his head, and with a look of slight confusion, Martin looked over. “What? Oh...nothing, don't worry about it.” He spoke and kept walking.
"So all the fainting from earlier and strange glazed over looks right now are just how you act, then? Nyet, Tovarich. I was born at night, but it was not last night." The metal Russian said as he stopped walking. The boy could him and haw all he wanted, but it was painfully obvious By the way Piotr planted his feet that they weren't going anywhere until he was satisfied with his partner's answer.
"So, you can tell it to me clear, or we can camp here in the middle of the street."
Martin stopped with a heavy sigh. His hands in his pockets, he looked up to the stars as if begging someone's god to let this night be over. When he looked back down, he sighed again, “I don't know Pete, I really don't.” Martin was ready to leave it at that, but looking to his metal friend, he knew that doing such would only leave him standing cold in the middle of the street, “I've just...been seeing things. Memories...of me...and my brother.” He said with a more solemn tone over his brother.
Pete stared at the young man as he explained that he had been seeing his brother in his head, and he nodded. May e being back here rose the memories of his family because this had been his home. But then, what was wrong with that? He remembered his family. That's a good thing. Usually always is.
"So you remember your brother. This is good. I keep the memory of my family fresh in my mind as well. Keeps them from not existing." It was apparent that he didn't understand, but he was trying to sort it out a little at a time.
Martin looked down a bit. He would have shuffled the tip of his foot on the ground had it not been so cliché to him. “No Piotr, these visions are vivid like I'm reliving them, not just remembering them. In the Corps building, I saw them dragging me in, covered in blood from the night of the attacks. How do you explain that? It was like I was watching myself, like there were two of me.” It was obvious that Martin was a little scared at what was happening to him, that he clearly didn't understand it. “L-Let's just get back to the car okay?” Martin said, attempting to walk away again.
Piotr stared at Martin for a second, and nodded slowly. He could tell that this was very tough on the boy, but he had to deal with it. Bottling up rage and sorrow to use as fuel in a fight was one thing, but letting it slip through the cracks when you needed to be calm was entirely another matter. So Piotr decided that he was going to Help Martin.
"Ok, Martin. Let's go."
With that, Piotr shuffled and stuck his leg out to make the first step forward, and as he let that foot hit the pavement, he stopped yet again. With a huge grin on his face, he looked at his friend yet again.
Martin stopped with him, sighing again, but with a grin on his face. “Really? We're children now?” He joked. “I honestly can't tell you what I don't know man, I think I need to just rest on it. How about we get back to the car, and if I think of anything I'll go ahead and share it with you?” He wasn't lying, in fact, if someone could figure what the hell was going on for him, he'd appreciate it. Before he started walking, he looked to his friend, “I'm sorry you have to see me like this...this isn't me, though you can't really know that considering you've just recently started to get to know me.” He sighed.
Piotr laughed at Martin as the boy grew exasperated with his antics. He got what he was looking for though. An honest admittance that he was just as confused as anyone else would be. That was a great step.
"Ok then, let's get back to the car." he said, stepping off and pausing on his foot once again as a joke. Then he continued walking and smirked for a good twenty yards as he surveyed the skyline.
"You ever get that feeling that maybe your family isn't gone, they're just ... like they're just around the corner but you don turn it fast enough to see them?"
Martin gladly took step with his friend, even chuckling slightly as he paused for a short second and grinned at him. It was nice having someone to get help from. When the Russian spoke though, the seriousness returned to Martin's face again.
The question hung in the air for a few paces, not so much as a breath escaping from Martin's lips, only the click clack of their shoes against the sidewalk.
“I'm not much of a religious man, Pete, but I believe in a...metaphorical existence.” When the words came out of his mouth, he realized how confusing that might sound.
“Like...I don't feel they're actually there, physically, but I feel everything they've ever taught me resonate through me every time I feel I need help. When I'm having trouble with a girl, my mom's advice springs to mind, when I used to get bullied, my brother's fighting lessons come to me clear as day.” Martin paused for a moment, “but I've never thought something like that and have it feel so lifelike, not like tonight. It scares me.” He finished plainly and matter-a-factly, a sign he was comfortable with the Russian beside him.
The metal Russian easily understood what his crystalline partner was saying. He quite understood the memories of his parent's teachings that seemed to show up in each and every day of his life. Even when he had spent time in the CAGE had he taken the lessons he knew within to heart. Had he any regrets though, it would have been that he had not clung to every moment as if it would have been the last one. Even the times of anger, like any of the numerous fights he had had with his brother, he wished there had been a stronger drive to cherish them.
What he had now though was all he could ever have, so he tried to contend himself to them. But Colossus still could wish. In silence they walked, Piotr feeling that what was said was enough said. He figured that to press any further for the moment would be counter productive, so he remained pleasantly silent. Soon enough they would reach the car, and then maybe he would continue their conversation.
The Russian fell silent and Martin was fine with it. He enjoyed the quiet, and the smell of Mutant Town was bringing back memories enough for him. It was a beautiful night really, no rain, no snow, just chilled air and some easy breezes. He gazed up at the stars as they walked, making out the big and little dipper. Had he not looked down the very next second, he would have walked right into the car.
Rustling around in his pockets, he pulled the keys from them and opened the driver's side door. Martin say down in a started her up, then looked over to his friend once he got in. “The X-Corps woman, Dead Girl, she said that there was lodging a couple of blocks up from there, correct? Hopefully she called ahead for us.”
Shifting into drive he pulled out of the grocery store parking lot and pulled onto the street, gliding silently down it until they reached a small set of houses. “This should be where it is. When I was younger we stayed here the first couple of nights before the house sale passed through, so we should be able to stay here tonight.”
Martin pulled the car into the driveway and what had been an opening before now closed with a gate on wheels. It was noisy and made Martin jump, but soon after, he had them parked. Rising from the car, he shuffled the keys into his pocket again, hitting the lock to seal the car. Martin made his way to the door and knocked lightly.
It swung open to a elderly woman with light purple skin and slanted eyes. Martin remembered seeing her for the first time like it was yesterday. He'd been taken back by it at first, but she proved to be so nice, Martin quickly became friends with her, and today was no different.
“Martin!” Shrieked the old lady.
“Mrs. Cayna!” He returned the excited, albeit much quieter and quickly embraced the stout woman.
“Come in, come in!” She said in a rush, waving her hand toward her self as she shuffled inside.
Martin turned to Piotr and grinned a bit before stepping inside and walking into the living room. It was a quaint place, easy on the eyes and warm from a steadily burning fireplace. The woman had disappeared, and as Martin took a few more step in, she reappeared from the kitchen with a tray full of cookies and a pot steaming with tea.
“Please, sit, sit!” She exclaimed, almost frantic with excitement.
Martin took place on the couch, still as comfortable as ever. “Mrs. Cayna, this is my friend Piotr Rasputin.” Once they introduced their selves, she gave them each a cookie. Martin happily took his and ate a bite.
“Now..” Mrs. Cayna began, “You're staying the night I presume? The wonderful young lady at the foundation called and told me you'd be staying, I was so excited, and so was Emily!”
Martin's eyes grew a little big at the mention of the name, and he quickly looked down and away from Piotr. “She should be down any minute.” The woman added.
“So what brings you here, my dear?” She asked.
Martin looked up and nodded, “Well ma'am, we're here on business actually, for....” He stopped mid sentence, wondering if talking about the X-Men was allowed, and decided against mentioning it. “...for Warren Worthington. He helps fund the X-Corps and now that the dome has come down, he thought it necessary to send us to check in and see if we could help.”
Martin made no mention of his episodes earlier either. The woman had poured the two of them cups of tea, and a third for the elusive Emily. Taking sip, Martin made out footsteps coming from upstairs. Enter Emily. A young blonde girl strode down the stair well, hair bouncing at her shoulder and light make-up to compliment her already beautiful features. She wore a tight brick red shirt and a simple pair of dark blue jeans. Martin was awestruck.
“Martin?” Emily asked from the stairs, a large smile on her face. “Ohmigosh!” She bolted for him, and he quickly rose and stepped by Piotr to catch and embrace her.
“Emily! It's been too long!” He said with a smile.
Emily looked to the chair beside the older woman and frowned slightly, “I interrupted didn't I?” She asked, arms still locked around Martin's neck. “No, you made it just in time.” He replied.
She released and he took his place again and Emily took hers. “Piotr, this is Emily, Mrs. Cayna's granddaughter.” Martin shot him a glare that shouted “not a word.”
When all was said and done, and their story concluded, Mrs. Cayna leaned back in her chair with a smile on her face. “Oh Martin, it is so good to see you my dear. I remember when you, your brother, and your mother showed up on my doorstep in the pouring rain, oh, your pouting face!” She said with a cackle. Martin grinned and looked down shyly, “Yeah, those were simpler times weren't they?” He said with a chuckle. Mrs. Cayna paused, rocking back and fourth in her chair. “They truly were...You're mother was the most beautiful lady to grace my home, Martin...she truly was.”
Emily slapped her grandma's knee lightly, “Hey!” He shrieked with a laugh, to which Mrs. Cayna waved her off, “Oh shush, you know you're pretty!” Martin laughed with the two. The elderly woman looked over to Martin again, “Now how is Tomas, Martin?” The question hung in the air, tension seizing the air around him. “He...he passed away.” Martin didn't elaborate more then that, and his head falling and looking down into his tea cup was all that needed to be said.
“Well it's probably best for you boys to get to sleep.” Mrs. Cayna said, slowly raising from her chair, “Emily will show you to your rooms.” The old woman came to Martin and embraced him again, “It was so nice seeing you.” She said, and with that, made her way out of them room.
Emily led them upstairs and to their room. “There's two beds in this one here.” She said opening the door to a small room with nothing more then the beds, a dresser and a window. “It's not much...but it's cozy.” Emily smiled to the two of them, then hugged Martin, “It was great seeing you Marty, Grandma loved it. We'll see you in the morning.” She hesitated for a second, then quickly pecked his cheek. “Goodnight”
Martin watched her leave, his face in pure shock. When he caught up with himself, he walked in the room and hung up his coat. He turned to Piotr and sighed, “You're going to ask aren't you?” He said, a grin spreading across his face.
Organic Metal Form
Member No.: 1,229
Joined: 10-April 11
“The X-Corps woman, Dead Girl, she said that there was lodging a couple of blocks up from there, correct? Hopefully she called ahead for us.”
"Well, even if she didn't, I'm sure that we can convince them to let us stay a night. I don't think I could make it all the way back to Warren's before I'm done for the night.
Shifting into drive they pulled out of the grocery store parking lot and pulled onto the street, gliding silently down it until they reached a small set of houses. “This should be where it is..."
Martin pulled the car into the driveway and the noisy flare rolled closed behind them. Laughing a little as Martin jumped, Pete waited for the car to stop and he made his way to the entrance where Martin was good enough to knock for them.
A purple elderly woman opened the door and after a brief reuniting with Martin, ushered them through the door. It was a nice, cozy place, easy on the eyes and kept warm by a flaming fireplace. The woman reappeared with cookies and tea.
“Please, sit, sit!” She exclaimed, almost frantic with excitement. Pete was a tad worried that the lady would overdo herself before they could get to know her better. She seemed like a wonderful little lady.
“Mrs. Cayna, this is my friend Piotr Rasputin.”
"Pleased to meet you, Babushka Cayna. Piotr Rasputin."
“Now... staying the night I presume? The wonderful young lady at the foundation called and told me you'd be staying, I was so excited, and so was Emily!” Martin's eyes grew like plates in his head at the mention of the girl Emily, and he wouldn't meet Piotr's eyes, which made a grin appear on his face.
“So what brings you here, my dear?” She asked.
Rasputin allowed Martin to speak to the lady. He knew her better so the Russian figured that he could be the spokesman. Then came a girl who was obviously Emily. A young blonde girl , hair down to her shoulder wearing a tight brick red shirt and a simple pair of dark blue jeans. Martin, from what everyone in the room could tell, was struck deaf and dumb to the world outside of this girl. She bolted for him, and they shared an embrace.
“Piotr, this is Emily, Mrs. Cayna's granddaughter.” Martin shot him a glare that shouted “not a word.”
Laughing, Piotr nodded at Martin's crush-spawned threat, and he waved at the little lady. "Pleasure to meet you, Emily. I am Piotr Rasputin."
Eventually the pleasantries and the conversation died down, and Martin's Emily led them upstairs and to their room. Pete sat at the end of the closest bed and began to stretch and groan after he powered down. Tonight was a night when he was actually going to sleep. He was going on a good six days of no sleep, and tonight he was going to catch up on it.
“It was great seeing you Marty, Grandma loved it. We'll see you in the morning.” She hesitated for a second, then quickly pecked his cheek. “Goodnight."
Piotr watched as she passed by him to leave and he smiled, giving her a quick 'thank you', then he turned back to see Marty's face in shock.
“You're going to ask aren't you?” He said, a grin spreading across his face.
"Ask? Haha, Tovarich, I'm going to tell you what my father told me. 'Boy, when people look at your face, asking is made useless.'" he pried his boots from his feet and went into the bathroom to rinse his face. "But yes, a little background story would be nice to go to sleep to." When he returned, he finished getting ready and hopped under the covers.
"Martin, I'll tell you another thing my father once said," he started, pausin to yawn as his eyes began to droop, "'If you were smart, son, you would talk to that girl's parents and take her as your wife, then settle down and learn her family's business.' There are days when I wish that I had... been smart enough... to heed... his...... words... ZZzzzzz." Piotr Rasputin, a man of the capability to stay awake and refreshed for seemingly unending amounts of time, was asleep.
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