El Hombre Pájaro
Join Date: May 2006
Re: Ultimate One Universe RPG: IC Thread
Originally Posted by Carnage27
I land after the aerial strike, and toll, stopping my momentum. As I look up, the environment around us begins to wave, before disappearing completely, revealing the inside of Charles's "Danger Room".
Looking up to the control room above, I shout to Xavier, "I think that went pretty well, no?"
Charles said into the microphone.
Kitty, who was to his right, asked with an arched eyebrow. "Dude, uhh, I mean sir, did you just see what I saw? They kicked butt."
"I agree with Kitty,"
Illyana said from behind the two of them.
"Yes, they did kick butt,"
Charles said with a small smirk. "But, they also got lucky. Their scores are still below what my...,"
he trailed off, his thoughts turning to the other students. "They're still lower than they should be."
Charles typed up another scenario into the Danger Room's computer and turned the microphone back on.
"For this one, I want Logan to remain out of combat. He will command, and everyone will follow his every order, but he is not allowed to directly take part in the scenario."
The scene below shifted to dark corridor inside a military facility. Somewhere, a kalxon blared out an intruder alert.
Jean Grey's eyes snapped open, bright white light blinded her sight. She couldn't see, but she could feel the metal restraints biting into her wrists and ankles. She could also feel the cold of the metal table underneath her t-shirt.
"Good morning, Miss Grey," a voice said to her right. "Sorry if you feel a bit sluggish and lethargic, but that's a side effect of the serum."
Jean blinked slowly, comprehending what the voice was saying. She wasn't sure what he was talking about, or what was going on. Last thing she remembered was working on homework with Scott...
"Oh, God," she said, the events after that coming back to her. The soldiers, them taking everyone else down one by one. She was the last to fall. After that... there was nothing. No memory, just here on the table with what felt like a head full of concrete.
"Curious choice of words," the voice said. "Funny that an abomination like yourself would say His name right, in a moment of need. Tell me, Miss Grey, what am I thinking?"
Jean tried to reach out and touch the mind that accompanied the voice. But there was nothing. She couldn't feel anything in the room or anywhere outside of where they were. No voices, no thoughts. Nothing.
"That's what I thought," the voice said with a soft chuckle. "Nothing. There's nothing because your unnatural abilities are gone."
Jean shook her head, trying to focus both her telepathy and telekinesis to work. Her brain felt muddied and sluggish as she commanded it to work like it had before. But it couldn't. There was nothing there.
"You see, Miss Grey, they're gone because we have leveled the playing field with just one little dose. No more mind reading, no more psychic ability. You're the one thing your kind hates the most."
The light was pulled away and Jean squinted as she adjusted to the new dim light. As her eyes came into focus, she saw a gray-haired man in a navy uniform standing above her.
"No," she said emphatically, trying to shake the cobwebs from her head.
The man disappeared from her sight. Even though she couldn't see him, Jean could feel him as he walked in a circle around the table.
"At the last supper, Jesus told the apostle Peter that before the night was over, before the cock crowed in the morning, Peter would disown him three times. Peter didn't believe it, there was no way he would disown a man he loved so much, a man so pure and righteous. Later that night, when Jesus was arrested, a woman pointed Peter out of a crowd and said he was one of Jesus' followers. For fear of his life, he said he did not know Jesus. The same woman asked again, and again he denied. Later that night, he was questioned by a pack of people looking for Jesus' disciples, and again he denied it. That was when the cock crowed, announcing the morning's arrival. Peter remembered Jesus' words, and he broke down into tears."
The navy man appeared back into Jean's sight. He stood at the top of her head and looked down at her.
"Moral of the story: Even the most dedicated falter. If a man like Peter, a saint, can disavow a man like Jesus, what hope do the rest of us have? More to the point, what hope do you have? You see, Miss Grey, you worship a false messiah. The man called Charles Xavier is not what you think he is. He is a horrible, selfish, person. Al liar who would manipulate mere children and send them out to die for him."
"Shut up," she said through gritted teeth. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
"Make me shut up," he said with a smirk. "Come on, I'm waiting..."
The man pulled a hypodermic needle from his jacket and began to put it to Jean's neck. She tried to trash and avoid the needle from touching her skin. He plunged it into her vein and shot her up with whatever was inside the syringe into her.
"There we go. An extra dose, just in case."
Jean felt her mind began to get fuzzier, more slow and prodding. She had trouble focusing on what was going on.
"Now, as I was saying. This man you worship is not worth your praise, and I will show you that. I will make you disown and disavow your 'savior,' I convert you and show you the glory of God. And after that, I will have you kill each and everyone of your friends before you help me purge the planet of all mutants."
"You...," Jean started in a slurring voice. "You can't make me."
"Oh, I no, that's what Dr. Essex is for. Doctor?"
Somewhere far away, Jean heard a speaker pop on.
"Ahhhhh!" The voice screamed through the speaker. She knew that scream, knew that voice and its owner.
"Yes," the man said. "It would seem the good doctor has taken quite a fancy in him."
"When I get out of here," Jean said slowly, her eyelids sagging. "I'm going to kill you..."
"Good luck with that. Now, Miss Grey, time for us to go digging into the professor's closest. Let's see if you'll like the skeletons he has in there..."
"These are the times that try men's souls... Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."
-- Thomas Paine