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For a while, the children of fallen heroes started to work in the shadows as the new X-Men. Not all that long ago, the latest incarnation of the X-Men was brought down in flames by Division's efforts. Team members captured, Agents killed, Cosmic fire everywhere... It seems as though the days of the X-Men have come and gone once again. Or have they?
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|MIMI T. SIMONSEN||
Posted: Jun 7 2017, 07:19 PM
"Did you hear? Did you hear?"
Mimi looked up from her sad salad without enthusiasm, plastic fork hovering somewhere between wilted lettuce and a sliver of a carrot feebly attempting to brighten the plate up. She always got a table to herself in here, even if there were no spirits keeping her company. People liked a bit of distance on principle. That left room to converse if any ghosts did decide to put in an appearance; other people would still think that she was strange from a distance for speaking to thin air, but they were going to think that no matter what.
"Did I hear what?" Mimi asked, ignoring a startled cadet passing behind her. "Unless someone crashed through here in the past fifteen minutes or so I haven't heard a damn thing that wasn't about Hugo in Personnel leaving his wife or whatever it is."
She hadn't actually been paying very close attention. The inter-office gossip of human bigots wasn't a thrilling topic, even for someone trapped with a limited well of working knowledge. She had a worn copy of Wuthering Heights out on the table instead. It was one of the few books she owned. A few of those alleged doctors were often worried about her being exposed to subversive materials. Realistically, she was more likely to toss hardcovers at someone's head.
There was one topic of interest that people were carefully avoiding in the commissary: the results of the anti-vigilante raid. Black Ops had gotten the drop on a team of mutant vigilantes operating out of Chinatown. They had been after them for years, of course, because any group adopting the name X-Men were going to get on their target list in a big way. There was some big secret project involved, and a couple of the vigilantes were now in custody in the facility.
A few of the ghosts had reported back about seeing them in the halls, but they had their limitations. They could follow them around, but they couldn't tell what anyone was actually thinking or go through files on the Division computer system. She glanced both ways to double-check that everyone was giving her a wide berth.
"You know the new ones?" the Victorian ghost asked. "So one of them was down in interrogation, the bloke with the oddly shaped head, and he didn't come out of it in good shape. They got a bit enthusiastic working him over."
"Is that really news?" Mimi asked.
"I thought you'd want to know if they started offing the captives."
"Odds are the alarm would go off if he were actually dead, that's a separate issue. But it's not entirely shocking to hear they're not being gracious hosts. I'd rather know more about the alleged escape plans. Or that thing in the labs. 'Project Split.' You want to talk leverage, that's what caught the vigilantes in the first place," she said quietly, tapping her index finger thoughtfully against her chin.
"Behind you!" the spirit hissed
Mimi spun in her seat to face the person that had just ventured into the no man's land that typically surrounded her when she sat in public. "Private convo here."
|XAVIER N. RASPUTIN||
Posted: Jul 2 2017, 11:20 PM
Being captured by Division wasn't a first for the young adult, though it wasn't a pleasant feeling either. In fact, it was worse than his previous visits, he was actually conscious for this visit. His feet shuffled along the floors, dragging himself along as he was escorted through the halls of the facility. He eyed the guards in front of him and the ones behind him, not enough to make himself appear suspicious but enough to be aware of his surroundings. It was clear that he wished to be anywhere but here; hell, he would rather a room in hell or be forced to sit on a plane with crying children than being here. His sister was his priority though and he wasn't leaving this scientist's wet dream without her. He eyed the many doors, rooms, and hallways that they past making mental note of it for later; when the moment was right he would have to find his way out.
They approached a double door at the end of a hall, he let out an inaudible sigh as they closed in on the door. The guards in front of him came to a halt causing him to stop walking. He turned and took in the guards behind him, one of them refusing to look at him and the other with a smug look on his face. His attention was brought back to the double door and the rapping of a fist hitting the door.
Xavier glanced around the room, most of them appeared to be eating while others read or chat with others nearby. Though there was one woman in particular who caught his interest, she seemed to be talking to herself. In his many years of experience, Xavier knew that meant one of two things: they're crazy or they're too smart for their own good. He had caught Stark talking to herself many times...She was both smart and crazy. He stood there now thinking about Stark and where she could be before being nudged by the guard behind him.
He turned to look at the guard who motioned him away from the door, he would have thanked the guy for knocking some sense into him but anyone in a Division uniform was the enemy. Xavier picked up a tray and browsed the selection of what was left in the cold cases, grabbing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a fruit cup, and a bottle of water. His feet taking him right to the woman talking to herself.
"Private convo here."
"I see that..." he stared blankly at the woman before sitting down at her table anyways. "Just pretend I'm not here. Makes you look normal and everyone else seems to be avoiding the weird girl" he shrugged as he twisted the top off his water bottle and took a sip.
|MIMI T. SIMONSEN||
Posted: Jul 24 2017, 08:05 PM
She took a slow, steadying breath, willing herself to stay calm. New guy. Had to be new, if he hadn't been warned against the Deathfast Club they had going around here. It wasn't in any official reports, of course, but it was impossible to miss the gossip if one lived in a small self-contained environment long enough. Then again, he didn't look quite like a trainee agent. And any trainee was more likely to run the other way when she was being especially mutant in public.
Even if they weren't actually frightened of her or mutants in general, trainees would want to appear properly disgusted by the concept of being around a mutant. Any equal opportunity brochures Division sent out were a big lie. Only those who were properly interested in humanity stood a chance of getting ahead. A trainee purposefully sitting near the person everyone else was leaving in a personal space bubble was a bit dim. Or else...not an agent?
Mimi glanced to one side at her companions, who shrugged. He clearly couldn't see them, or he wouldn't have dropped his elbow into Sally's shoulder like that. Well, probably not. She scooted down along the table without comment; most of the ghosts were quite used to oblivious Division personnel walking right through them as they traversed the grounds, and only complained when they wanted some attention.
"I do believe the boy is one of their new captives," said the Victorian ghost, giving the table the most regal nod they could manage. Their shabby garb didn't help, but Mimi never commented.
"He's obviously gotta be one of them what they've caught," Sally agreed, "They must be turning their brains into soup if the poor sod thinks he can make you look normal."
"Oh stuff it," Mimi complained, flicking her fingers toward the empty space.
She paused, letting the silence hang for a moment. It seemed like he really was going to sit here and not run fleeing for the hills with worries of girls who talked to thin air. She didn't know how to say 'sorry about the capture' without sounding incredibly creepy, and that was only if her ghostly information was correct. The ghosts overheard and saw quite a lot, but if they overheard a lie then that's what they would relay.
"Hate to break it to you, but I've been here for years, it's way too late to convince anyone here that I'm normal. I even have a shiny little ankle bracelet of my very own in case anyone risks forgetting. None of the workplace diversity seminars seem to have stuck, somehow," Mimi said with a wry smirk.