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Old 09-12-2012, 09:37 PM   #73
Byrd Man
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Default Re: Ultimate One Universe RPG: IC Thread


Spoiler!!! Click to Read!:

Originally Posted by Byrd Man View Post
Psimon ran through the maze he now found himself in. The walls were white, the floor was white, and ceiling overhead was white. The only sounds he could hear were his own frantic footsteps echoing through the white void, and his ragged breathing. He was gasping for air, running for dear life from something that, deep down, he knew was fake.

As he ran, memories of his life began to flash through his eyes. The way he was shunned and picked on for his odd shaped head, the day his mutant abilities manifested. The overbearing sounds of other people's thoughts... and the way he had used them to his advantage.

~It must have been horrible,~ a voice echoed through his head. The voice was so crisp and clear, it was like the voice's owner was whispering into his hear. ~The constant stream of thought, pounding into your skull day and night. Hearing the innermost desires of your friends and family, seeing them for what they really were. It's enough to drive a man mad. I know for a fact that it can drive you mad.~

Psimon turned a corner in the maze and crashed into the man he was running from. Psimon was knocked back and fell flat on his backside. He looked up at Charles Xavier looming over him, Xavier's hands in his pockets and his face a mask of concentration.

"It drove us both mad. We have that much in common. But I think that is where our similarities end, old boy. I chose to seek out my own kind and try to help those who couldn't be helped by normal mutants. You, on the other hand, took the path of manipulation and greed. You used people to get ahead."

"No!" Psimon shouted, jumping up and running past Xavier. He ran as fast and as hard as he could, going through the twisting maze for nearly five straight minutes before stopping. When he finally came to a stop, Psimon was struggling to catch his breath.

"What about your mother?" Xavier asked as he appeared in front of him. "The way you pushed her to insanity, putting voices into her head until finally, she couldn't take it. She had to make them shut up, no matter the cost. How far did she fall, seven stories? A life you snuffed out in the name of revenge."

"She needed," Psimon wheezed. "To feel my pain... What I felt all those years. If your lecture is done, go ahead and kill me..."

"I have no plans to kill you," Xavier said, reaching out and touching Psimon's head. "I just want you to sleep..."

Psimon collapsed to the white floor, his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

With a start, Charles opened his eyes. He was still inside the helicopter, hovering over the street below the ongoing fight. Charles closed his eyes again and went back inside his mind.


Metamorpho, his body transformed into titanium, slammed Mammoth back with a punch. The wooly mutant recovered quickly, knocking Rex back with a blow. Rex stood his ground and delivered a hard blow to Mammoth's ribs.

Behind him, Black Lightning charged up. Electricity was sparking from his hands as he placed them on Rex's shoulders. "Guess what titanium conducts real well...," he said with a grin.

The electricity coursed through Metamorpho's body as Mammoth charged again. Rex ducked his swipe and swung upwards, hitting the large mutant with a electric-powered punch. The blow, combined with the lightning, blew Mammoth up into the air. He landed half a block away on top of a car, unconscious with his hair poofed out by the electricity.

"YEAH!" Rex said triumphantly, high-fiving with Jefferson. "Science and stuff!"

~Rex, Jefferson,~ Charles said inside their heads. ~The mutant known as Psimon is down the street, unconscious and out of action. Round him up, along with Mammoth, Powderkeg, and Jean.~

~Is Jean alright?~

~Her mental readings are normal, she just appears to be unconscious.~

~We're on it.~

The two of them ran down the street towards where their fallen enemies and cohort were laid.


Hank jumped on a taxi cab, leaping off of it as Rogue lifted it into the air with her telekinesis. Snarling, he ran towards the mutant and jumped, his claws out. He was a few feet from her when his momentum slowed and then stopped, hovering above the ground.

"No really think that would work?" She asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"As an attack, no... but as a distraction?"

Rogue was suddenly knocked forward as an optic blast struck her in the back. She fell forward and hit the ground while Scott charged. Quickly turning around, she ripped Scott's visor from his face with Jean's stolen telekinetic powers. Undeterred, he fired off an optic blast with is unshielded eyes. One beam went wide, the other struck Rogue in the shoulder.

~Sleep...,~ a voice said in both Rogue's head and nearby Shimmer's head. Shimmer collapsed to the ground but Rogue, fighting off the sudden fatigue, quickly stood and knocked both Scott and Hank back away from her.

Looking around, she saw the helicopter above and could hear the sounds of sirens approaching the area. With her attackers distracted, she ran down across the street and down a side alley.

~Are you two alright?~ Charles asked Hank and Scott as they recovered.

~I seem to be,"
Scott said mentally as he stood. "But I don't get it... how'd she avoid getting knocked out?~

~I'm not completely sure, but I believe she may have inherited Jean's resistance to mind control when she absorbed her powers.~

~What about the young girl? Should we give chase?~

~No,~ he said, reaching out to her mind. Her could feel feel her fright and her confusion just on the surface of her thoughts. ~Not as this time. For now, help Jefferson and Rex secure the rest of this group. We can deal with whatever happens next.~

San Francisco Bay

Charles looked out across the bay as the sun slowly sank below the horizon. He was on the island facility's outer deck. In his hand was a glass of scotch with a few ice cubes floating in it. Behind him, Jean sat on a bench, cross-legged with an open notebook in her lap.

"You're making excellent progress so far," he said, taking a tiny sip of his drink. "I am curious, though," Charles said as he turned around to look at her. "How today's earlier events effected you."
"I'm alright," Jean said quickly, pushing the hair from her eyes. "I told you that already."

"Be honest with me, please," Charles said, kneeling in front of her and attempting to make eye contact. "You know I can't read you like the rest. I can sense some psychic backlash. That girl did more than just temporarily take your abilities."

Jean stared down at the ground, not wanting to meet her teacher's gaze. "When she touched me, I felt something. I could... feel what it was like to be her. All her emotions went through me."

"What did you feel?"

Jean looked up suddenly, making eye contact with Charles. "Pain. Fear. Anger. Whatever this girl was doing with these criminals, she was doing it out of necessity. Her life had been so hard... and so sad."

"I thought as much," he said, standing up and turning away from his student. "A life of hardship. A life, not unlike yours, or mine, or the rest of our group. It seems like suffering is the permanent mutant state."

Charles took a long sip of his drink and sighed as he walked across the deck. "See that island a few miles away," he asked, nodding in the direction of the floating rock a short distance away. "That's Alcatraz. The famous prison that hasn't been in use for almost fifty years... until today, that is. That's where they're holding Rogue's cohorts. Without trial or due process. Why? Because they're mutants. Criminals, yes, but they're all like us. They live in a society that won't accept them. Is it any wonder they went bad? Punishment is not the answer... and what's worse, I'm helping."

Turning around, Charles shambled towards the bench Jean was sitting on. He plopped down beside her and drained the rest of his scotch. "If only we were teaching and rehabilitating instead of incarcerating. Between this and the feelings I get from our own federal 'friends' in Utopia, I am starting to believe Erik may have been on to something..."

"Professor," Jean said, mentally plucking the glass from his hands. "I think you may have had too much to drink..."

"Jean," he said with a long sigh. "I am so sorry for bringing this all to you. You are a teenager, you have your own problems and your own concerns. I am supposed to be your mentor. I'm supposed to set an example. But what example do I set by getting blotto and ranting..."

"You showed me something," she said, reaching out and taking one Charles' hands. "You showed me that you have fears and faults likes the rest of us. That you're human. And that can go a long way. More than you could know."

"Thank you," Charles nodded, patting Jean's hand. "Just don't tell anyone else. Rex's powers are developing at a rate that he'll be able to shape shift before long. The last thing I want to see if a weeping copy of myself roaming the halls of Utopia."

"He's already doing voices. Apparently, he pretended to be me and asked Scott to meet him in Mrs. Waller's office at midnight. Yeah, she and Scott didn't find it as funny as Rex and Hank did."

"Heh," Charles said, standing. "Come on, we'll be late for dinner."

Charles and Jean walked across the deck back inside Utopia. Before they reached the door, Jean stopped and glanced back at Alcatraz. "Professor? Can you tell what's going on inside there?"

"That's what bothers me more than anything, Jean. Whatever they've done to prepare it, they've turned it into a telepathic deadspot. I'm blocked off from the island entirely. It could be a countermeasure for Psimon's own considerable telepathy, but something tells me they don't want any prying minds looking in."



The footsteps of Henry Peter Gyrich and his visitor echoed off the walls of the nearly empty facility. Together, the two of them walked through Alcatraz's main cellblock.

"As you can see, we're just getting up and running. The telepathic countermeasures were placed just as you asked for them."

"Good," the man said with a crisp British accent. He looked around the cellblock, inspecting everything his eyes fell upon. Gyrich took a moment to do his own inspecting. Tall and lanky with a pair of glasses, the man was dressed in a dark blue suit. He supposed to be a world renowned geneticist who was on loan from a government project that was too classified for Gyrich to know about. "And you said you have some inmates already?" The man asked, turning back to Gyrich.

"Yes," Gyrich said, nodding. "The guards are prepping him for your table right now."

"Excellent. Show me the way to the laboratory, please."

Gyrich led the man through the facility, down into the basement of Alcatraz. There, the government had set up a state of the art lab that would make almost every academic on the planet drool. In the center of the lab, strapped to a triple-reinforced steel table, was Mammoth.

"Swear to God," he snarled. "You hurt me or my sister, I'll snap the neck's of all you sons of *****es!"

"Easy there," the man said, approaching the mutant. "Hello, Mister Flinders, or do you prefer Mammoth?"

"I'd prefer to rip your goddamn head off and shove it up your ass!" He roared, spitting at the man and hitting his glasses with the spit.

"You are spirited," the man said, removing his glasses and carefully wiping them off with his jacket. "So are all mutants when they first come into my care. But that will soon change. That always changes."

While Mammoth fought and struggled, the man walked to a rack where a dozen power tools were hung. After long consideration, he gingerly plucked a power drill from the wall. He pulled the trigger and the drill whined to life. "Fully charged. Excellent. Points to you, Mister Gyrich."

With the drill in hand, he walked back to Mammoth.

"The government has brought me in to investigate the cause of the mutant outbreak. You see, they see it as a infestation that must be cured."

He removed his glasses and placed them into his jacket pocket. He then removed his jacket and placed it on a nearby counter, revealing a navy blue waistcoat underneath.

"I, my dear man, have a more neutral view on the subject. I see it instead as a problem. A difficult equation, a puzzle, something that can be solved. But before I can solve anything, I need data. For instance, you. I am told you have incredible strength. Is that your mutation? If so, what other side effects come with it? Are your skin and bones more durable than a common man's?"

With a pop, he slid on a pair of latex gloves and popped a long drill bit into the cordless powerdrill.

"This is the data I need. But before we begin, you need to know that I take no pleasure for this. This is only a necessary evil. In a hundred years, I we will both be seen as pioneers."

He stepped over Mammoth's head and lowered the drill until it was pressed against his forehead. "Although... everybody remembers Gagarin, not the dozens of animals the Soviets sent up before him. Well, no matter. You will be but a footnote to my... full note. But it will be well worth it to eve be mentioned in the same breath as Dr. Nathaniel Essex."

Pressing the trigger, the drill kicked on and Mammoth screamed as the drillbit tore into his head.

"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

"People never lie so much as after a hunt, during a war or before an election."
-- Otto von Bismarck

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