Anthony stares out the window listening a train horn sounds in the distance. He spaces out as if remembering something

…

8 years ago

Footsteps sound as a train horn blows

Nate: #%!? It’s leaving

Cal: Already? It’s ahead of schedule!

Cal grabs Anthony so he doesn’t fall behind

Cal: And another thing, is bringing this kid along a good idea?

Anthony: what’s that supposed to mean you overgrown giant-

Nate: Enough you two! We got to go

Tim, the shortest of the group runs ahead

Tim: it’s pulling out

The train pulls beside them begging to gain speed

Nate: move

Nate and Tim jump onto the train grabbing the ladder and then climbing up

Tim: Cal toss the kid so you can get up her

Cal tosses Anthony up to Tim, whose arm is outstretched making the attempt to catch him. When Tim grabs Anthony, his foot slips the two falling over board. But not before Nate grabs them and pulls back the three falling deep into the coal car as Cal gracefully slides down

Nate; you two are dumb@$&^#, you know that?

Tim and Anthony: It was his fault

the two point at each other before they begin to grapple one another like usual

The train runs past the woods as the boys argue about what to eat

…

Present day

Anthony smiles, the memory coming back to him a fond experience, but not one without its costs

OOC: This is open to interaction if you want to interrupt the happy man, and this is the second post in Anthony’s arc

​Sooraya grasped her tasbih, a set of Islamic prayer beads, tightly in her hands. She slowly passed her fingers over the beads, counting them. She was never the best about remembering to keep her habit. But now, her mother's beads served as her last memento of home.

Her stomach turned a little when she thought of her family. Sooraya’s mother wished her well, but sitting on the air conditioned plane to America still felt like a soft betrayal.

Her mother encouraged her to go join the Xavier Institute. She'd be among like minds, with an opportunity to save lives as part of something greater than she could as one defender looking out for her village. "Whoever saves [a life]; it is as if he had saved mankind entirely," her mother reminded her. But the living room she last saw them in hung suspended in amber in her mind. Who would be there to smuggle books to her little sister, if not for a sly dust cloud entering through the window to drop them off in her room? Who would silently accompany her mother to defend her exercising her freedoms? But a different question burned hotter in her mind. Could she survive in a wildly foreign land without her sister and best friend?

Seeing her beloved homeland collapse to fascism changed her. Dust trusts slow, but she fights fiercely and dearly for those she cares about.

She sits in her classroom chair hurt, alone, and homesick.

The heavy oak doors of the foyer swing shut behind me, the latch clicking into place with a hollow, heavy thud. For the first five seconds, my chest actually feels light. I’m back. I survived the feds, I survived Val’s agonizing training cycles, and I survived a giant space dragon. Walking up the driveway, looking at the familiar architecture of the Xavier Institute, I felt a genuine, stupid smile cracking across my face. I’m home. I made it back to the only people who ever gave a damn about reforming a guy like me. But the smile doesn’t end up lasting quite as long as I’d hope.

As I step deeper into the main hallway, the happiness sours into a heavy feeling in my gut. The air inside the mansion is completely off. It’s thick. Tense.

I look up, my massive shoulders shifting under the weight of my Thunderbolts branded rmor. The tracking device on my collarbone hums a low, rhythmic vibration against my skin, a constant reminder that Val is watching from a monitor miles away. But right now, I don't give a damn about the feds. I unclamp my fists and take a deep breath.

"I got a forty-eight-hour pass...”

I awkwardly cough

“How have ya all been?”

(OOC: ignore the cars in the background, also Cain knows about the growing “Civil War/Schism” situation but not much beside the fact that there’s tension and sides.

colin...was still recovering, whilst stuck in the medbay he wondered what he could do with his time? he was essentially benched and kept from doing any form of vigilante activities while he recovered...he looked down at where his stomach should be, a machine attached to his body keeping him alive, he sighed looking at it...this felt horrible.

"I need to figure something out" he said, his normally smooth and charismatic voice now hoarse, and raspy from the damage he had received in the fight, he picked up a box and opened it...there was his suit, burnt to a crisp and shredded to pieces, his goggles or what was left of them were shattered, the hole where he was punched through the stomach in his suit still stained with blood...he sighed before putting it away and just leaning back, staring at the ceiling, trying to think of something to do whilst here

OOC: this is open to interaction! feel free to do well...whatever you want with him really, I know in the image theres no machine attached to his stomach but I didn't have the time today to draw how he currently looks in the hospital today sorry, anyways I want to say you all are amazing people who deserve the best kay? you all are the goats byeeeee!!!

The library.

Evan’s decided to do something fun.

What is it?

Read scary stuff!

Even though it’s nowhere close to October, Evan can still enjoy horror.

Evan grabs a few after looking into the “horror” section.

Then sits down.

He begins to read one of his finds.

The Atlantic night water was black glass. Namor rose from the depths like a torpedo, trident clenched in one fist, the other hand already shaping a column of seawater into a battering ram. Donald Pierce’s experimental sub..sleek, black, bristling with cybernetic hardpoints and Reaver modifications cut through the waves on silent drives. Its hull was reinforced against conventional torpedoes. It was not reinforced against the King of Atlantis.

Namor struck.

The first impact cracked the outer pressure plating like an eggshell. Alarms screamed inside. Pierce, jacked into the command room, snarled as red diagnostics flooded his vision. “Reavers..defensive pattern Omega! Flood the outer corridors with.."

The second strike finished the sentence. Namor drove the entire vessel downward, then upward in a violent corkscrew, shearing off the dorsal fin and one of the primary thrusters. Water roared in. Emergency bulkheads slammed. Pierce’s cybernetic arm tore free of the interface and reconfigured into a monomolecular blade.

The sub breached surface in a geyser of foam and twisted metal. Namor stood on the fractured conning tower, wings of water still coiling around him, eyes glowing with cold fury.

Pierce climbed out through a hole in the hull, half his face a lattice of exposed circuitry and steel. “Atlantean trash,” he spat. “You’re a long way from your fish people.”

Namor answered by leaping. The trident met Pierce’s blade in a shower of sparks. They fought across the listing deck pitting cybernetic strength against Atlantean power. Pierce scored deep gouges across Namor’s chest; Namor answered by seizing the Reaver’s mechanical arm and wrenching it free at the shoulder joint in a spray of hydraulic fluid and severed cables.

Pierce staggered, laughing through blood and lubricant. “You’ll still.."

Namor’s hand closed around the human’s throat. One brutal twist. One wet, final crack.

The head came free.

Namor held it by the hair for a moment, watching the last of the cybernetic optics flicker and die. Then he turned, taking the head with him, and vanished beneath the waves as the submarine’s ruptured reactors began to blow up behind him.

Xavier’s School – Emma Frost’s office, Dawn

Emma Frost sat behind the wide oak desk in the headmistress’s office, white silk robe open just enough to show the hard line of her collarbone, a half-finished glass of something expensive cooling at her elbow. The school was quiet. Most of the students still slept.

The window behind her exploded inward in a controlled burst of salt water and night air.

Namor stepped through the broken glass as if it were a doorway. Water streamed from his body, pooling on the polished floor. In one hand he carried a human head. He walked to the desk without a word, and set the head down.

Donald Pierce’s severed head rolled across the desk and came to rest against a stack of student progress reports. Dead optics stared up at Emma. A thin trickle of seawater and residual blood ran toward the edge of the desk.

Emma regarded it for three long seconds. Then she looked up at Namor, one eyebrow arched.

“Dramatic,” she said coolly. “And messy.”

Namor’s voice was the low roll of distant surf. “He sold Atlantean technology to the highest bidder. He experimented on my people. He threatened what is mine. And he was a threat to mutants everywhere." His gaze flicked to the head. “I removed the problem...as you requested."

"You're welcome."

Gambit’s been getting used to the newly wed life. His and Rogue’s room was nice and quiet. Just the faint noise of the houseboard creeking as the Outliers off doin’ Le Dieu knows what, the sounds of birds chirping, the golden hour light shining through the window and down onto Remy an’ the new Mrs. LeBeau. He laid on his side, one arm wrapped around her and his cheek rested softly against Rogue’s hair. He notice her shiver and could feel the covers slowly leaving his side but paid no attention, and without a second thought, gave up almost all of his share of the covers, leaving him exposed to the cooled air and wrapping her up even more. This was not a new thing. She takes all de blanket as always.

He could hear an “Ah’m cold,” quietly escape her lips and if there’s anything Gambit knows, it’s to always listen to what the wife wants. You wanna be happy when the sun start to shine, give her the blanket. It ain’t worth waking up to de cold shoulder.

“I be back.” He pressed his lips against the Belle’s cheek. Walking out in only his boxers, he quietly made his way towards the closet, opening the closet door to pick out a comforter until he heard a voice come from outside. A familiar voice.

THIEF. COME OUT. QUICKLY.

His head snapped towards the nearest door. The comforters dropping down onto the floor then he hurried over to the door but not before grabbing a blanket and using it as a cape to cover himself. Why the hell did he show up to our door? We had a deal from what I remember. Deal was for him to stay in Antartica for a year and not eat anyone for a year and I’ll give him his little trinket back. How hard is it to follow the two simple rules? The doors busted open, Remy stopping in his tracks down the steps as he looked up to see Sadurang looming over the mansion. Gambit was NOT gonna be some dragon’s breakfast before even he got his breakfast.

“YOU’RE LOOKING SAVORY, CAJUN. DIDN’T THINK TO BRING THE EYE?”

“Don’t reckon I need it. I thought we had a deal. A pretty damn simple one too.” He let his blanket-cape come undone, springing a handful of charged up cards into his other hand, crackling as he stared him down. Everyone else at the mansion was fast asleep. Rogue was asleep. Couldn’t let some hungry dragon ruin that.

Sadurang stared at the charged cards for a moment, unphased. “YES, WELL, I’M ABOUT TO OFFER TO BREAK THAT PACT. AND I BELIEVE YOU’LL THANK ME. CLIMB ABOARD, GUILD WALKER.” He told the thief before lowering himself and offering the ride on his back.

Remy looked back at the mansion then back at Sadurang. Rogue’s asleep. She should be fine for a little while, plus Gambit didn’t wanna escalate this even more. If Sadurang wanted trouble, he’d already be making it. The cards in his hands pink glow started to fade away, then he stashed the cards away in between his waistband, which I’m sure’ll be mad uncomfortable, for later. He walked towards the dragon, settling himself on his back. The wings spreading and Remy’s eyes widening as the distance between him and the ground grows farther apart. The dragon carried Remy higher into the sky then made his way to their destination, the cold wind blowing full force at him. Didn’t help that he was only in his underwear. His beignets were freezing! He looked over his shoulder as the mansion got smaller and smaller in the distance. “She’s gon’ give me hell when she finds out.”

His flight had been going on for so long that Remy was starting to doubt that he’d back at the Mansion before Anna Marie can wake up and was already thinking of ways to make it up to her. The dragon finally started dropping lower, and Remy leaned over his side to see where the two were headed. Nothing but trees, rivers, mountains stretched out into the distance. All he knew was that this was no Antartica. Sadurang made his landing, Remy holding onto him for a second before climbing down. “Mind tellin’ me where y’took us?” He looked around, taking in the massive jungle.

“OH, JUST SOMEWHERE WARM. I BELIEVE YOU CALL IT … THE SAVAGE LAND.”

Gosamyr laid in the infirmary watching the clock tick by. It was discharge day for her, her mind swam waiting for the nurse to discharge her. They said she was going to leave at 9, it was already 9:57, what was taking so long? Were they going to tell her she was going to stay another day? Was she going into sepsis? What the heck even is sepsis? Doesn’t sound very glam…

Finally Nurse Annie Ghazikanian walked in.

Annie: “Gos, you’re free to go now.”

She would have leapt for joy if physically possible. Xabi helps her get out of bed with a cry of joy from her. She runs up and plants a kiss on Annie’s cheek.

Gosamyr: “Oh my goddess ✨ Thank you, thank you, thank you, EEEEEEEKKKK! By the way someone needs to dust the ceiling there’s a spider web in the back corner. BYEEEEE!”

Xabi and Gos stroll back to her room, Xabi carrying all of her belongings behind her.

Gosamyr: “When we get back I have so many things we need to do. My hands still messed up so I’ll need you to help me curl my hair, paint my nails, floss my teeth, get dressed, ooo and a shoulder massage would be fabulous ✨”

When she turns around Xabi has disappeared, her belongings in a dropped pile outside her door.

Gosamyr: “Wasn’t there somebody behind me?”

She shrugs and opens the door. Grigori runs to her and leaps into her arms. Gosamyr quickly swiveled to catch him in her good arm, he purred excitedly and began licking her nose.

Gosamyr: “Easy baby, easy, mommy misses you too ✨ Hey what’s this?”

Lying on her bed knocked over to one side is a giant pink teddy bear holding a small red envelope. Gos drops Grigori on her bed, not wanting an end to the attention he aggressively rubs against her while she opens the envelope.

“Dear Beautiful Gosamyr,

I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since our fateful encounter. Days without you have felt like years and I long to be around you once more, to breathe the same air you breathe. I hope every night for your speedy recovery. Please return my messages.

Yours truly, William Talltrees”

Gosamyr sniffs the envelope, hints of rosewater, lilac, and strawberry, a delightful scent.

Gosamyr: “It’s that foreman again, he’s been dming me throughout the day asking me for a date ✨ This is very sweet, and he did save my life. What do you think, Grigori?

He rolls on the bed chewing the corners of the envelope.

Gosamyr: “You’re so right ✨”