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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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 CASUALTY report, Tag +David|Egan|Molly|The Stitch
WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: May 6 2017, 12:15 AM
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VERVE

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Minutes after Camelot's destruction

She felt fine. The hole in her torso spoke otherwise. As did the urge to turn back toward the tethered energy thread that was linked between herself and her unofficial student It didn't matter that they were a hundred feet above the ground or that behind them by about a half a mile ground zero was sucking everything they knew into a black hole. Her hands were clawing into David's shoulder and she was screaming bloody murder that they had to go back; that the distance was killing someone. She could recognize the energy pattern that was ricocheting on her insides. "Its Doyle. I'm killing him. I don't-" breath was getting ragged and asthmatic. "-know how I know, but he was close. When the spell-augh, Oh God David, stop please! Go back!" Pearly whites (that were stained pink with blood) grimaced as the distance increased a few more blocks. "I can't keep this!" She was bowstring tense and fighting for him to let her go so that she could spare them one more casualty; her words slipping into a delirium reminiscent to Luke Skywalkers' fevered state on the planet Hoth.
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DAVID C.C. SUMMERS
 Posted: May 13 2017, 09:20 PM
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PHOENIX

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The Phoenix screamed in his head. Winona had managed to break the cosmic entity’s grasp for a few moments, but David was still fuzzy. The entity called out for the deaths of all of Division and a lot more. He shook his head and started to hear her quiet down for the first time in a very long time. His vision cleared and he focused on his hand, still wreathed in the cosmic flames of the Phoenix. The implications of what he’d done to save the X-men were finally starting to sink in. Berserker looked at Winona, noticing for the first time that she was speaking. He focused and realized that she had taken a power that didn’t belong to her by mistake and that she was bleeding.

Winona was fighting against him. Saying something about Doyle. Egan. David was not his biggest fan, but he was helping Winona with her abilities. He was teaching her control. And now he was a part of her and killing her. He felt different. Summers could feel a new power buzzing inside of him and felt the otherworldly presence. He leaned Winona against the wall in the alley and stepped back.

“Give me a moment.”

There was a flash of light as Phoenix fire engulfed David Summers and he reappeared in the alley behind Egan. He narrowed his eyes at the Irishman. When David spoke, his voice still had that otherworldly echo to it as if two beings were speaking at once. “Winona needs you. Come with me immediately.” His voice softened a little bit and the echo dropped a bit. Summers held his hand out, preparing to teleport the moment the light manipulator accepted and took his hand.

“Please.”

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EGAN N. DOYLE
 Posted: Jun 10 2017, 05:48 PM
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EGAN N. DOYLE

IRE, FORCES 29 He/Him 71 POSTS
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Sirens screamed down every street, echoing an inglorious cacophony in the alleyway where Egan had stopped to catch his breath. His chest was heavy, filled with grief and the pained effort to move. Thoughts raced through his mind, but he couldn’t capture one to begin to understand what had happened. He knew the Light was all but gone, leeched from his body by Winona’s culling pull. He was conscious only so that he could find somewhere to pass out. It wouldn’t be his death, but it certainly felt eerily close. Only then did the Irishman begin to consider the effects she was feeling. The pair established, rather early in their relationship, that their energies weren’t commutable. At least, not for Winona. The Light, if it was where Egan suspected, would be devastating the witch’s life more than just her physical injuries.

Anguish wouldn’t be permitted time over Egan’s conscience, though. The sound of David’s voice behind him drew attention away from any lamentation. “Winona needs you. Come with me immediately.” His hand was offered, though less from acceptance and more of demand. Egan knew the situation was dire if her boyfriend was coming in search of him. His suspicions about the Light must be true. No other words were exchanged when he took the man’s hand and blindly allowed him to lead. Fire engulfed both men in an instant, and in another they were gone.

Time felt irrelevant for a moment, which was too paradoxical for Egan to even begin to consider. He knew he could feel David’s hand clamped around his, but he couldn’t see him. Everywhere was white and hot, but not burning. The flames in which they had vanished reminded the catholic of hell, but the immediate sensation following was quite opposite. In fact, it was familiar. In whatever span had passed before they reappeared somewhere entirely different, Egan observed a renewal within himself. The space in which they passed through had begun to revitalize his lifeforce, charging him like a car battery being jumped. It was by no means perfect, but refreshing enough for the Irishman to regain his bearings.

Egan didn’t recognize the new alleyway they were in, but the distant sounds of the sirens told him that David and Winona hadn’t made it very far. His eyes came upon her right away, propped against the wall of a building and growing pale. “Winona! Rushing to her side, he let instincts of his medical education prevail. Her pulse was steady, though weak - the hole in her abdomen still bleeding. He removed his jacket and packed it tightly against the wound.

Egan looked up to David, “We need to get ‘er to a hospital. I can’t risk taking the Light back in t’me like this. The shock will kill ‘er.”
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MOLLY A. CARTER
 Posted: Jul 6 2017, 05:14 PM
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night nurse

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The arrangement with the Stitch Molly had wasn’t exactly the best, all things considered. But she took it because she needed to learn not to be such a bleeding heart. On some level, she knew she couldn’t help people for free and medicine was expensive, and that’s why she was here, in the slums. To learn what she could while letting the Stitch use her and her powers. Plus, she also was paid for her work. She was not a big fan of the methods she was being taught, but this was an opportunity to learn and she wasn’t going to screw that up by opening her mouth. Much.

Molly was coming in to start her time, walking toward the back entrance to trading post, keeping her hands in her jacket pockets and an eye on her surroundings. The sirens she’d heard on her way over had her a bit paranoid, so she kept her head down and did little to attract attention. Sliding her hand out of the pocket, she reached for the handle on the door, the knob starting to twist. She felt a wave of heat on her back, turning to look as she opened the door, preparing to slip inside if necessary. She shut her eyes the moment she turned around, hugging the door, an after image of a phoenix still burned into her vision from the briefest moment she dared to look. Once the heat dissipated, her face felt flush and the air felt cold at the sudden absence of it but she cracked her eyes open to see what had caused it, only to find three people standing there. Well, there were two men were standing, one in a very loud Hawaiian shirt. The third, a woman, was held up between the two while one held what looked like his jacket tight against her side.

Immediately, Molly let go of the door and rushed over, her training and instincts kicking in as she tried to assess the situation. She kept her hands up, placatingly, showing she had nothing in them. “I want to help.” She looked at first the slightly more panicked man, trying to keep his blood soaked jacket at his friend’s side, then up at the Hawaiian shirted man, trying to make sure they understood. “Let’s get her inside, I can help her better if she was lying down” She put a hand out to touch Winona’s neck, checking her pulse and frowning. It was not as strong as she would like.

Twisting the knob once again, Molly threw open the door and guided them inside, before looking back around the alley and closing it behind them. She was about to lead them farther in, toward their actual facilities when she heard her name called with a warning. “Molly,” The Stitch said, walking calmly into the room. “You know how this works. Did you help them already?”

Molly shook her head, looking down, fingers twisting together as they longed to do something more than just be idle while someone was injured. “Not yet, they just appeared...but...she needs help soon. Otherwise it’ll take too much.” The Stitch looked at Molly, then at Winona, silently deciding what to do.

“Bring her, we will discuss everything before we begin”
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WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Sep 28 2017, 10:37 PM
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VERVE

LIBRARIAN TWENTY EIGHT She/Her 536 POSTS
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.winona.

She was in and out for a lot of the trip to the black market medical facility that was fronted in the slums by Bloom's Trading Post & General Store. Highlights included: The bright hot agony when Egan pressed his hand and balled up jacket firmly over the GSW; The change in how she was being carried so that she could fit through the doorway and most recently the unnatural crunch of torn innards and cauterized flesh being pinched on a microscopic level to keep her from bleeding out all over the table.

For all of these moments, she'd kept herself from screaming, but she had no control over the involuntary reaction that was making moisture fall out of the corners of her eyes and roll down into her hairline. In any other situation, Winona would have been angrily scrubbing her face of the evidence - this wasn't an option. Breathing was agony. Moving around made the bullet that was still inside of her, feel like it was the size of a softball with a thousand teeth. If she was making any noises (and she was) they sounded terrible, fevered. Not unlike the sounds of an animal dying on the side of the street after wrestling with a sedan.

- - -


.the stitch.

The Stitch was very patient. Patience helped in her line of work. The newest recruit was the typical bleeding heart. She understood the lure toward absolute chaotic good alignments. But picking up where modern medicine left off put her in a precarious position if she was going to give it away for free. Word of mouth would and had made the line a never ending stream of human and mutant suffering. They didn't let her rest. They woke her at all hours. Fifty percent of them didn't have any money, so she got payments in casseroles, handiwork, housekeeping, or any other manner of not currency they thought they could trade for a miracle. It was why she had to start charging for her services with things other than charitable donations.

Today's customers had all of the tell tale signs of desperation. Bloody and breathless, talking a million miles an hour, a half alive somebody other and some muscle that was either going to get loud and attempt to get violent with her... or they were going to beg. Eyes drifted from Molly to the gut-shot girl. Breath yawned out of her as she reached out and applied a light application to stabilize the bleeding while they negotiated treatment and price. "How much of her do you want fixed?" She shot Molly a look and held up a finger as she tilted her head in warning that she was to observe... for now. " Clarification would be prudent. You've got a whole box of tools to choose from, And while its fun to pick up the hammer and be blunt, I am not about to overhaul this broken mess to factory new until I know how extensive you'd like these repairs."
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DAVID C.C. SUMMERS
 Posted: Feb 7 2018, 03:18 AM
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PHOENIX

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Grudgingly, David accepted Egan's assistance with Winona. The Irishman balled up a jacket and put it against her wound. She had drawn some part of his powers inside her and David permitted him for just that reason. Old animosities could wait. Winona's life hung in the balance and Berserker was pretty sure that Death would not. Egan said something about a hospital in that rather punchable brogue of his.

David's response was short and almost growled. "No hospital. Help is here. At this place."

A bit of smoke still poured off of his Hawaiian shirt as he blinked away the default optic blasts that welled up when the X-Men leader saw the blonde girl rush towards them. If she wanted to hurt them, he was pretty sure she wouldn't be offering to help. Something told him that she could be trusted. He wasn't sure how much of that was instinct and how much was a cosmic force of annihilation bonded to his soul.

He followed the girl on autopilot, barely feeling the weight of Winona in his arms. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion for him now. Berserker felt like he was wading through three feet of syrup. Once they were inside, David scanned his surroundings. A cursory glance to make sure that it wasn't a trap and that all of Division wasn't waiting inside the store. Summers' eyes locked on the Stitch as he set Winona down. Already, he didn't like where this was going.

"The bullet wound. Fix it. Cost is no option. You can name your price. Just make sure she lives. I can't lose her. I won't lose her." The faint glow of the Phoenix Force surrounded David and then he took a deep breath and managed to put it back in a metaphorical box. This power was new. Different from the past attempts to use the powers. It was raw and hard to control. He made a mental note to try and figure out a way to train himself when all this was over. He needed control of the space chicken to keep everyone safe. He refused to become his nightmares.

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WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Apr 7 2018, 02:50 AM
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VERVE

LIBRARIAN TWENTY EIGHT She/Her 536 POSTS
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© NERYS · She/Her · Offline


.the stitch.

Her fingers flexed at the momentary illumination that flared up around the angry man who'd barged into her place of business demanding preferential services. Every client thought they were the exception to the rule. The desperation that it took to bring someone here, was almost always a choice between life and death. She didn't often get asked to treat minor injuries. Stitch sucked at her cheek to bring out the crisp line of her zygomatic bone. Her eyes stayed fixed onto the turmoil and the unspoken threat that he'd just presented. Fingers flexed again as she shifted the charred up tissues inside this woman to give David a very clear message about the chain of command.

- - -


.winona.

It was sharp and bright, and it woke her from the dreamy between that her consciousness had slipped into with indifferent aggressiveness. Even if she wanted to put on a brave face, this was beyond her ability. Her body writhed against it. Her arms flailed, and moved blindly to find purchase with whatever was near. The examination table. The Stitch. David.

- - -


.the stitch.

"Put it away. Now." Stitch didn't have to flex her powers again. There was no mistaking that this client was unstable. Thankfully, he wasn't stupid. But she felt it was important to bring him into the know, just in case he decided to try and pull a dine n' dash. "You will, if you pull that shit again. Are we clear?" Again her patience was a virtue as she waited to hear compliance before she continued with her work. Breathing evenly, she reclaimed a hold on the woman's life before it bled out all over the place. Attention went briefly to her assistant. "Go and get this young man a standard contract of agreement, terms to be discretionary... I can't be quite sure, but phone the Apothecary please. Let him know that we could be making a substantial deposit." As the perfunctory arrangements were made, she kept her eyes on Summers. "If you're determined to stay while I work, make yourself useful and hold her down. I cannot apply any sort of anesthetic because it muddies my concentration on the cells."
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