gota


The heroes of yesterday are dead and gone. Division and the Mutant Control Enforcement Agency (MCEA) saw to that. This dystopia we live in is the result of one anti-mutant hate crime that sparked the third world war. The law now requires mutants to register, to spend the rest of their lives being a number on a file with a tracking device on their wrist or in their bloodstream.

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?

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?

Notice: Human Division employees are still much needed, even if they're depowered mutants. We would also love to see more MHA, Morlock and Purifier affiliated characters.

We are currently accepting Site-Canons and Originals



 
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 MY EYES! THE GOGGLES DO NOTHING!, +tag MORTY [OPEN]
EWAN J. MACTAGGERT
 Posted: Feb 18 2017, 05:27 PM
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fuck you

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"This helmet smells like Cheetos." MacTaggert was pulling the hood of his Hazmat suit off and making a face at the Plexiglas as if evidence of the odour would be there in orange fingerprints. "From what bargain bin did you scrounge these up again?" Ewan doubted that his subtly to insult with interchanging native terms would pay off for anyone except for on a long shot Isla. Most of his across the pond phrasing and jokes were wasted on the American audience. It didn't stop him from stretching the puns and layered intellectual insults at the masses. On occasion the zingers were met with good reception and just as wicked return. Just enough to bring up his morale when he knew he could whack at the green and make contact with something.

Standing out in the 'courtyard' of the hollowed out factory, Ewan gave a glance up at the sky to wonder if this was going to be the last time. It wasn't every day that he ventured willy nilly into a radioactive city on some wild hunt for fabled technology. For a long number of years, given the impossibility of getting to the half demolished estate of his late father, Ewan had convinced himself that it wasn't there. But the more time he spent around mutants that were way above his weight class, the more he wanted to be wrong.

Ultimately, it was one of his nocturnal mind links with Isla that had rekindled the memory he'd long put into mental archives. Back before Division had raided his mother's facility on Muir Island, the young telepath was working to help his half-brother David. It was easier for him to do the guided restructuring of Legion's psyche, because he was able to anchor the main personality amid all of the voices, without the nasty backlash of falling too deeply into his fractured mind. And while he laboured at Davie's treatment, back in Westchester, his father and Forge, were working to repair him. Ewan would have never known about any of it, but it was one of the last things that his brother managed to telepathically convey before he died.

It was one of the few things that Ewan ever spoke about regarding personal details. When pressed, he'd make it a point to make sure that no one spoke ill of his late brother and what he did to keep the world at large, safe from Proteus. Even if he did wrap it up with humour and analogies to the Ghostbuster's containment unit. "Not to pinch too much of fuss, but this has already cost a bomb. are you entirely secure in the fact that we'll not go sterile after dropping into a radioactive playground? I dunno about you, but I'm not quite ready to step into Jim Hammond's unitard."
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MORDECAI G. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Feb 18 2017, 09:03 PM
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"This junk ain't what you're paying for, boss." Mordecai took a swig out of a small canteen and shoved it back into the inside pocket of his worn but comfortable jacket. "But as you've so charmingly observed, we ain't exactly about to hike through the friendly part of town- believe it or not, it does get worse than this." Gary wasn't good for much other than the lowest categories of engagement, although Mort did regularly manage to scavenge a few jobs a month from this corner of the city. Unfortunately for him, they were usually from men like Ewan MacTaggart.

"Now, I personally don't usually spend my weekends in that glowing hell. So to answer your question, no," Mort chuckled to himself. "I don't have a goddamn clue what good this stuff'll do us. What I do know is that I can get us out if you get a tummyache."

The man got no clue what he's getting us into, Mort thought as his client fiddled with the protective gear he had asked Mort to pick up. And the fact that he's Brotherhood means he's at least as likely to do me in as the radiation. Nevertheless, the man showed up to their meeting and made good on Mort's fee (which Mort knew full well to be disgustingly high, especially after accounting for the price hike that came with dealing with men he suspected would at some point try to kill him.

"Believe it or not, MacTaggert, I'm not quite as eager as you seem to be to go traipsing through the wasteland in search of God knows what, so if you really want to sever our arrangement right here, I'd be more than amenable." Mort grinned reservedly at his client before turning to pace a short, tight lap around the dusty yard. Stopping and turning to look back at the older man, Mort adopted an ever-so-slightly more serious tone.

"If, on the other hand, you're not engaged in an elaborate effort to waste my time, you might consider offering me a few of the answers I've already requested of you- most preferably," Mort took both hands out of his pockets in order to count off on his fingers, "What do you want, and why do you want it?" His tone was lackadaisical, but he was also ready, as usual, to warp out at a moment's notice. He didn't trust the man he was doing business with, and the fact that he came through a reliable contact wasn't nearly enough of a reason for Mort to turn his back to him.
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ISLA M. MOORE
 Posted: Feb 23 2017, 02:41 AM
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Isla’s candy pink rubber boots made very little sound as she wound her way through the old building towards the main exit. They were going somewhere, to do something with persons unfamiliar, for reasons Isla could quite not put into words. She had no guarantee when or if they would return to this place. That sort of uncertainty was usually how things went whenever she went beyond the fences. It was why she wore her favorite sweater and why her bag was coming with her. It held the few things she cared about and other things that people kept saying were important. She would not particularly miss this location.

Her subconscious homing-beacon lead her to Ewan and what he was holding was strange enough to catch her immediate attention. Without really looking at him, she held out his knit cap to in the general direction of his face. “Th’ wee chatty box says tis aff tae be cauld.” [The little chatty box says its going to be cold.] Isla was not a fan of the little chatty box, but she could use some of those apples on it as long as she did not have to talk to that ‘Siri’ person. Siri was rude and very anti-Scottish. She'd tried to use her inside voice to communicate with Siri once, it had resulted in the pieces of the chatty box having to be chucked in the bin.

Extending one of her fingers to poke the weird white thing she was surprised to find that it felt like tent but had far less resistance. Isla bent down to look in the little window, still unable to figure out what it was. Perhaps it was one of those fish houses, but with more privacy. “Aren't thare suppose tae be fish?” [Aren’t there supposed to be fish?] Were she a fish, she wouldn’t mind living in a fish house with privacy. As much as she enjoyed watching the fish at the pet store, she knew it had to be annoying for the fish. Everyone always looking in or tapping on the glass. It was something she had been meaning to ask the wee baby angel about, but she had not seen her around lately.

Isla finally realized that someone else was standing there, not because of his inside voice but because of his shadow. Inside voices could come from anywhere at many different volumes, it made judging proximity difficult sometimes. The redhead looked up and in the direction of the shadow-casting stranger with some surprise. “Ye'r tauhl.” [You’re tall.] She stood up straight so she didn’t have to look up quite as far. She didn’t know what to make of him, but she was certain that she had never seen this one before. Isla listened for his inside-voice and was sure she’d not heard it before either. “A dinnae knaw ye.” [I don’t know you.]
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JEREMIAH R. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Feb 26 2017, 02:47 AM
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The elder Guthrie sibling stood nearby, taking in the scenery. They were in an abandoned factory in Gary that looked like it had seen better days long before the war came around. He didn't really know what purpose the place served, just that MacTaggert had wanted to meet here. He'd helped Jeremiah get Pyotr Barton out of a rather tricky spot in the middle of a major league baseball game on national television. So, needless to say, Jeremiah was not surprised when the man wanted to collect on a favor. He wanted to go to New York City, that glowing utopia and real, live version of a Fallout game. Guthrie didn't ask why and MacTaggert didn't volunteer any information. That was something else he found unsurprising.

He'd put the man in touch with his younger brother, who was eager to make a profit. As much as Jeremiah didn't want to be a part of it, he felt like he had to go along to watch Mordecai's back. He didn't know Ewan that well and even though the man hadn't done anything overtly hostile, the telekinetic detective didn't know enough to trust him. His fingers absently fondled the pack of cigarettes he kept in his pocket. Mostly, they were for cover work anymore. He'd quit after he got out of the service and just used them as part of a bullshit cover if he had to observe from an alley. Today though, he was regretting quitting.

"I vetted them myself, MacTaggert. The radiation shielding is still functional. I'm wearing one too, so you can stop worrying. Though, if you ask me, you being sterile might be doing the female population a service." The last part was said with a grin. Jeremiah was trying to diffuse the tension. His and everyone else's. "If nothing else, we at least need to know the size of what you're bringing back, so Morty can get a proper size portal going," He added, hoping to get a little more information out of the man.

As a smaller red head came out and started speaking with what sounded to Guthrie, like a Scottish accent, to Mort, Jeremiah pondered texting Sidony, not for the first time today. He didn't really know where he stood with her, but he knew that he could rely on her in a fight and that she was trustworthy. That was more than he could say of about two thirds of the people before him. Pyotr was an option, but he had Wade and shouldn't be taking these kinds of risks. And Joe... Well, Joe would just tell Jeremiah to stay out of his city, since he used the place to blow off literal steam. But there was no guarantee she'd show up. He was going to run without back up this time. He'd be fine.

Two fingers touched Guthrie's forehead in a playful salute as he respectfully acknowledged Isla. "Ma'am."

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EWAN J. MACTAGGERT
 Posted: Mar 5 2017, 02:15 AM
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fuck you

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Despite his assurances that this teleporter was up to snuff, MacTaggert was really less than thrilled with the guy. His brother Jeremiah was decent enough, for a registered dog on a lead, but his brother seemed like a right smart douche. Ewan was used to dealing with shitty people. He was a card shark and a grifter. It came with the territory. He couldn't blame the kid for being curious as to nature of the visit to New York. The east coast was a wasteland of uninhabitable everything. He'd heard rumour that there was a mutant who was being paid to go into those parts and soak up the toxicity with his powers, but it was a big job. By his warrant of the news reports, that sort of work would take years to fully unfuck. "You always puff up when you're pitched a bit of healthy cut and thrust?" Breath let out as he worked a grin over his face and started to pull the suit on over his clothes. "I'd think you'd be excited to go and see the ancient and illustrious homestead of Jet-Ass."

It was enough of a lure to judge if Mordecai was going to go off the rails on him. If that was the case he was willing to explore other options for transport. There was no telling the sort of stresses that they were going to come under once stepping foot onto unfamiliar soil. If L'il Guthrie wasn't able to roll with the punches he wasn't the right guy for the job. "What I can tell you is I'm not even sure if what I'm looking for will be there, if its not buried under three hundred tons of rock and rubble or even if Forge was able to actually build the thing. All I know is if its there, and I find it, maybe I can stop from having this motherfucking dream about it night after night. Its really cutting into my beauty rest." playfully, the Scottish born mutant batted his eyes and made girly gestures around his ears to fluff at imagined hair. Brow quirked at the arrival of Isla and the other Guthrie.

"Fair warning. The insides of these suit smell like bar snacks, so if you're hungry we should stop for sandwiches before heading into the radioactive wasteland." He winked a cerulean eye at Morty before putting the final snaps into place and picking up his helmet. Turning to address the easily confused redhead, Ewan's tone changed entirely. She was one of the very few people that he regarded kindly. Her mind was torn and twisted. He felt her unrest every time they linked and it gutted him to the core to know that she was almost as broken as his brother Davie had been. "Shouldn't be a problem, if you've dressed yourself in that cardigan I laid out for you." Head shook at the commentary about fish, and he half chuckled. "You're thinking of a diver's helmet." He fixed his mind onto the image so that she could pluck it out of the foreground of his thoughts.

"No dove, you've never met these two. Don't let the tall one scare you. Safe as houses we are." Hands clapped together mutely because of the heavy gloves. "So now that we're all introduced, I'd suggest we suit up and get a move on. Daylight is burning and I've no strong desire to look for a summer home out in the Big Apple's countryside. Locals that glow in the dark and eat human flesh make for lousy neighbours." Back leaned against the concrete remnants of an outer wall of the building as he waited for the lollygagging team to get all of their bits sorted.
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CAROLINE V. DANE
 Posted: Mar 5 2017, 12:39 PM
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Polaris

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Caroline knew she was running late, but didn't much care. Things had gone south lately for the blonde woman. She didn't have as much positive as was normal for her. Caroline retreated into herself most days now. The incident with Evangeline and the X-Men left her deeply scarred. She had already been thinking of leaving this group before that incident, now she was going to soon. Carol was just waiting for the prefect moment. She had no doubt they'd object to her abandoning them, but she wanted the exit to be clean. Without a moment for them to react. The situations lately may have caused her to have a great deal of hate towards the Brotherhood, but that didn't mean she wanted further bloodshed.

"Yes I know I'm late.." Dane walked up on the group looking like they've started or ending getting to know each other. Caroline walked with a purpose, not the cheerful one she had in the past, but that of a woman just wanting to get this done and move on with her life. She didn't care why they were here or for what. For now she'd follow orders, but not for much longer. Ewan and Isla were just tools used by a crazy woman. Their leader was a woman who didn't mind throwing away their lives in pursuit of her own ambitions. Even her own grandfather wouldn't have approved of attacking children at a college. Magneto even had lines he didn't cross.

Normally she'd let Ewan know that his manner of speech was quite rude. She was content to just leave him be. "I take it this one is mine?" She walked over and started to put hers on. At least they didn't require her to get naked. It appeared like they could just be worn over-top of whatever clothing one currently wore. The blonde didn't say a word, but just dressed in silence. "You're going to need some back up. You're looking at it." Caroline didn't know about the other two she hadn't seen before, but she could more than handle herself in a fight. She was after all related to three of the most powerful mutants in the world.

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MORDECAI G. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Mar 8 2017, 01:33 AM
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tripper

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Mort passed a weary look at his brother as the irritable crumpet blathered on.

"Do you always shit out your mouth?" The younger Guthrie offered the single lazy, brief retort before reaching into his pocket and feeling what was there. Somewhat comforted, he withdrew the pack of cigarettes and waited for MacTaggert to fumble his way towards answering his questions, which he more or less managed after taking his experimental jabs.

Lighting a cigarette, Mort suffered through the joke about missing beauty sleep. "No kidding," Mort quipped flippantly between slow, steady drags. "So the old man's got a brain like a WMD, and the runt gets nightmares and a brain-dead carry-on." Mort chuckled to himself and shook his head, satisfied in his own attempt to get a rise from the Scot. "Brotherhood as strong as ever, yeah?"

The redheaded woman approached Mort. To him, the woman actually seemed inoffensive apart from her accent and choice of company, and in lieu of an apology he extended offered a sincere (if reserved) smile.

"Ayuh," he responded to her observations. "Mort Guthrie, ma'am."

Be a shame if something happened to that one, Mort thought as he watched the girl and Ewan interact. Although it's bound to happen if she stands too close to the snot.

Mort tapped the end of his cigarette and cocked his head towards Jeremiah. "You ready to ride?" The look he shared was enough for the brothers to confer their shared concerns, and Mort, for his part, was glad to have one member of their party that he could trust.

The blonde woman arrived as something of a surprise, but not one which merited more than a lifted arm from Mort in great, fine, whatever gesture.

"Marvelous." Mort spoke with tapered sarcasm around his cigarette. "Let's bring the whole damn family. There's plenty of cancer to go around, where we're going."

Stretching a hand in front of him, Mort tore a horizontal ridge through the air in the courtyard, wide enough for two members of the group to walk through at once. He glanced at Ewan with sour pleasantness.

"After you, boss."
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ISLA M. MOORE
 Posted: Mar 12 2017, 12:43 AM
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Ewan said the strangers were safe, so Isla believed him. He also said that there were two men which made her stop and look around. When she finally noticed the other man, he called her ma'am just like the slightly taller man who was smoking. Was he actually there or was he inside the first man's head? She couldn't quite tell. The second man's inside voice was strangely muted, like he was using his out-loud voice in a different room. "Tis okay, ah hud a waffle." Isla offhandedly replied to Ewan as she drifted over to the second strange man, stopping once she was close enough to touch him.

The telepath reached up and gently touched his beard to make sure he was actually there. He was. Isla smiled up at him as she continued to feel the coarse facial hair with her fingers. She glanced over at Ewan and telepathically asked him, . o O ( Why doesn't your beard color match your hair? ) O o . He was putting on the weird suit and having opened the telepathic connection she got the mental image of the old timey scuba diver. Scuba. It was a funny word, so she laughed as she drifted away to the weird suit that was intended for her. She'd picked that information up along with the mental image Ewan had transmitted. She also wasn't looking forward to the suit.

Isla ignored a lot of the things Ewan said or thought, as it was quite often gibberish. Or it made her uncomfortable. Or it was things that he thought just for himself. Those ones made him sad. The sad thoughts were why they had to go somewhere for something. Her tent suit was too big, but not so big it would be impossible to move around in. She frowned but quickly shifted back to a smile when Caroline showed up. She was coming... wherever too. Of course she was, she was still mad at the Blue Lady. Any reason to get away. Though those were not the words the blonde woman had put to the thoughts.

"Cancer? Whit's cancer?" The smoking man caught her attention again and she paused with the suit on but not done up. She wasn't sure but she may have heard the word before. It was something bad, she was sure. Based on how nobody seemed to like the word. They never told her what it was though. Isla peaked at the tall smoker's outer thoughts but he'd already moved on. Isla watched his movements intently, trying to make sense of his inside voice. He opened the air up. Made a hole in it. Isla set the dumb helmet thing down and moved in a slow, wary circle around the strange thing.

The second she became aware of what exactly it was she was seeing, Isla turned to Ewan and waved frantically at the tear. "Ah telt ye! It was an exclamation of mild annoyance. They'd had the conversation a number of times. 'No they couldn't just pop back to Scotland for tea and come right back.' It was too far, and travel time and other such dumb reasons. Isla had tried to tell him. She had tried to tell him that time and space weren't real and therefore a non-issue. He was very exasperating sometimes.




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JEREMIAH R. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Mar 17 2017, 11:15 PM
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Guthrie started to suit up, letting Ewan and Mort vent their spleens towards each other. He knew the two wouldn't like each other, but he also knew that Ewan would be good for the cash that Mort needed for his lifestyle. He'd managed to pull on the jump suit and was checking over the respirator. Then the Scottish girl reached out and touched him in a way that was rather familiar to Jeremiah. That same way that he touched people after he'd had an episode and his powers manifested in a human form construct. It caused him to give a sad sort of smile to the girl and the telekinetic detective found himself hoping that a nice girl like that wasn't suffering from the same thing. Then the girl started touching his beard and he heard the way that Ewan talked to her. Perhaps, they were siblings.

The girl kept running her fingers through his beard and he didn't really seem to mind all that much. She seemed rather fascinated by it. He hoped that she was okay, not for the first time. Then she drifted away and started to put her suit on. Caroline's appearance was unexpected, but not unanticipated. She'd shown that she'd known Ewan at the Ballpark and she'd been in his house once for some reason. With Mac. Jeremiah brought a hand up to the bridge of his nose and pinched it. He couldn't remember that day very clearly. It was fuzzy for some reason. Like there was a hole.

The younger Guthrie's words snapped Jeremiah out of it. "Nice to see you again, Miss." He gave another two fingered salute to Caroline and a smile and then looked over to Mort. "Before we go... I wanted to give you something. You know for when we get there." Jeremiah pulled out a gallon freezer bag full of bottle caps and offered it over to Mort. "I didn't know what the exchange rate would be, but I figured you could buy yourself a nice little souvenir. Maybe even a plasma rifle." It was the first time he'd offered a genuine smile to his younger brother since they'd crossed paths a few weeks back. The reference was to a series of video games they'd played as kids. Even if no one there got it, he knew his brother would at least laugh.

The question from Isla caught Jeremiah off guard. He looked back at her and answered gently. "Radiation breaks the cells. They grow wild and uncontrolled. It can do very bad things to a person."

Then as a show of good faith, Jeremiah tucked his beard into his helmet as he put it on and turned on the air supply. He gave a thumbs up and then walked through the portal Mort manufactured. He wasn't entirely sure what the situation was like on the other side, but his ability to fly and create shields would make him a good advanced scout in case the other side was hostile. His skin still felt the tingling sensation that happened when he crossed Mort's event horizons and then he found himself somewhere else. He took a quick look around and then moved into a position where he could cover the portal exit, while he waited for everyone to emerge.

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EWAN J. MACTAGGERT
 Posted: May 21 2017, 12:34 AM
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fuck you

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The trash talking Guthrie was his mode of transportation, and he knew his value. Giving him the much deserved beat down was just going to make the job of getting into the radioactive Westchester that much harder. So rather than quipping back anything at the kid, Ewan let him have the last word as he turned his attention to the other people in the yard. Caroline was, as expected, late, but Ewan was used to his adoptive sister's habits so he wasn't upset at all; at least she was consistent. Really what had Ewan's jaw tensing was Isla's motions toward immediate trust and (for anyone else) inappropriate first contact. He felt the muscle on his cheek twitch at the flicker of jealousy that washed his thoughts. First it was Sidony, now Isla? Breath puffed out with a disingenuous chuckle to mask the crack in his obdurate buffer. If Isla was keen to trust Jeremiah Guthrie, it was difficult to dissuade the view. He'd never known her to judge people incorrectly, despite her outward naiveté.

Following Jer's lead, he fixed his helmet onto his head and then moved to help Isla get hers fixed properly before he put his gloved hand into hers and stepped through the rip in space from Gary to New York. Mordecai had placed them on the expanse of greenery that was laid out on the east side of the ruined building that was once his birthright. To their right was the hollowed out structure that had been home for the equestrian studies. The roof was caved in, along with part of the back wall. Regardless, enough of it was still there to trigger a childhood memory of time spent there with his father. Charles watching from his wheelchair with avid interest as he learned how to ride a horse around the paddock. His voice was calm and encouraging during the lesson. The sun had felt good on his face. And Ewan remembered feeling a pang of sadness that his father's spinal injury had robbed him of being able to take a more hands on parental role.

He made no comment on the rogue memory, and instead, drew his attention to the derelict mansion. As predicted, there wasn't much left. He as glad for the muscle of Caroline, Jeremiah and Isla to help clear away a path to the sub basement. He'd given much thought on where Forge and the Professor would have stored this illustrious piece of technology, and it was the most logical of choices. Ewan remembered that it was built to withstand a cataclysmic event, and it didn't look as though there had been any other faction, government or independent there to dig out the possible treasure trove. "I don't suspect we're going to run into any trouble, but none the less we should keep a wary eye open just in case." Not bothering to see if anyone was going to come with him, MacTaggert began to cut across the tall overgrowth to close the gap between himself and the pile of stone and ruin.
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MORDECAI G. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Sep 19 2017, 08:50 PM
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The motley crew made its way through Mort's portal and he shut it behind them. The whooshing noise that complemented the closing of the gap was followed by eerie silence. As the group trudged forward, Mort met the eyes of each member through their masks. They each took their place in the formation, with Ewan taking the lead. As he surged ahead, Mort stomped over to his brother.

He nodded at the older Guthrie. "Tell me you know more than I do about what we're looking for here. Or what he's looking for here." Mort nodded towards Ewan. "Personally, I'd be more than happy looting half of what I expect to find in there. Place must be a treasure trove." And one not many people are likely to have explored, what with the radiation.

The de facto leader of the group was pulling somewhat farther ahead than the rest of the group. Mort called out to him from a few dozen yards behind.

"Hey, Junior!" Mort hoped sincerely that the nickname would irritate him. The son of the professor was smug, but that wasn't the most of what irritated Mort about him. That honor went to the earnest belief that the leader of their merry band would get them all killed, either through negligence or just by virtue of the fact that he cared for them less than achieving his goal.

"We got any sort of game plan here, or should we all split up and mutate separately? I guess it'd be too much to ask for you to have any sort of idea where we're going here." Despite the jeering tone he was taking, Mort found that he felt a legitimate sense of impatience to get in and out of the compound. The X-Mansion was a place of depthless history, and it had developed a reputation akin to any number of urban legends. Of course, Mort was less concerned about those than he was about the prospect of a sudden raid by local bandits, or an emerging turf war between the irradiated locals, or (perhaps most likely) the risk of hostile infighting. [/i]At least one of those things I can look forward to,[i] he thought with a grimace.
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ISLA M. MOORE
 Posted: Sep 20 2017, 01:32 AM
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Isla decided she liked the bearded man. He was nice, not in the same way Caroline was kind but he meant no harm just the same. In her own way she appreciated the way he explained cancer to her as though she knew what a 'radiation' was. She rolled the bearded man's words around in her mind as though they were play-doh, as Ewan helped her with the weird body tent and head cage. Isla found she only had more questions. Ones that she was not certain she wanted answered.

Was she cancer? Did she have radiation? She had broken things apart at their smallest levels before, not that she'd meant to. She'd heard words like 'uncontrolled' used about her in quiet out-loud voices before, when they didn't think she could hear. She'd seen pictures of destruction and broken things in their heads where their inside voices lived, while they thought about her. More things she couldn't quite understand.

Her face scrunched up as she considered these things. Ewan held her hand and lead her through the hole in the world and into the green beyond. She was immediately struck by just how quiet it was on the other side and was incapable of hiding it. "Whaur is a'body?" [Where is everybody?] Isla could barely remember when there had been so much silence. The beginning had been quiet, the before that had been too. Everything had gradually gotten louder ever since. Even the Echo.

There was something strange about this place, other than the lack of people-noise. Isla only continued to walk because Ewan's hand was still in hers. She didn't know where he was leading her as it did not particularly seem to matter, which only meant Isla was not particularly paying attention to where her footsteps fell. This would have been potentially hazardous, were she anyone other than who she was. Dangerous things that could cause her harm had the strangest habit of moving, however slightly, out of her path without her even realizing it had occurred. It was no different in this strange place.

A horrible feeling on her insides rumbled to life like an angry old engine. It was something which she almost did not recognize, as it was stronger than she had ever previously felt it. I'm not supposed to be here. The words she thought seemed to echo and repeat under her skin and in her head until The Echo appeared in the strange place they had travelled to. The Echo was suddenly everywhere all at once. Sometimes different, other times the same. All of them flickering, not quite solid. Like all the Echos were made of infinite coloured dust motes dancing in the field. It was there walking through the grass that Isla finally, and properly, understood why people seemed to think that she was the Echo.

Isla's free hand raised and touched the helmet over her lips as she watched a younger version of the Echo kiss a boy with red glasses under a tree that was not as real as it had once been. Another version of the kissing girl came up behind the pair of Scots and passed them on their path, only to react to something Isla could neither see nor hear, and change route. Still oblivious to what was going on around her, away from the coloured dust and infinite Echos, Isla quietly spoke with her outside voice. "Ah gaed that wey..." [I went that way...] She watched herself walk away, wanting to follow to the places she could not go.
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JEREMIAH R. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Feb 20 2018, 03:15 AM
Quote

GUARDIAN

P.I. 32 He/Him 170 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© MATRIX · He/Him · Offline




Guthrie looked around the deserted remains of the former X-mansion. He heard Isla's quiet brogue through the helmet comm. "Gone now. All gone." Was all he could think to say. The telekinetic detective looked around and saw his own past ghosts wandering around. A younger version of him and Mort playing with the other X-kids.

He looked at his brother and shrugged. "I think he's looking for his inheritance. Think Xavier left him something. Can't say for sure. I just know he needed an engineer along for the ride. Wait... Do you know where we are, Mort?" The elder Guthrie stopped by a large broken oak tree and kneeled down, smiling. His hand brushed away radioactive moss from a spot and revealed various sets of Guthrie initials carved into it. All the Guthrie siblings had taken a turn carving their signatures into the tree when they were little, as their father, aunt and uncle had done years before. His eyes caught sight of something else and he brushed away more moss and growth from the trunk.

A small heart with an arrow through it and the letters J.G + K.W. carved into the center of it emerged. A sad smile crossed his face. "This was from the last picnic we had here. Katy. I kissed her under this tree that night." Guthrie stood up and cleared his throat. "Stop dawdling, little brother. Things to do, places to see, Deathclaws to kill." The elder Guthrie pushed ahead, walking past the Scots' adjusting his gun belt and resuming his role as forward scout.

"Bring back old memories, Ewan? You and Mort couldn't even get along back then as I remember. I was always getting yelled at to separate you two."
Jeremiah reached out with his TK in a subtle ping of the area. The energy wave would brush against things gently and work almost like a radar. He didn't want to be surprised.

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