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Post by mutantx on Oct 27, 2004 15:38:44 GMT -4
With only moments left of life, Proteus stood silent and thought of his sister. He hummed softly to himself, a tune...a lullaby...from long ago. If only he could have talked to her. If only he could share with her the things he'd missed. The things he'd learned about from the little clone.
Then, gathering what strength he could he curled the wavering, diminishing energy of his hands into fists. He screamed in agony as the exertion literally tore him apart and wrenched them toward himself like some magician pulling a tablecloth out from under a dinner party's place settings.
Reality twisted once more spinning outward. Instead of a an inwardly spiraling whirlpool, this time the vortex pushed back. Like an image of a newspaper cartoon stretched out on a piece of Silly Putty, colors and sounds rushed together in a nauseating, spinning hurricane. The very universe shifted and swelled as if it were trying to give birth to something.
It shrieked with the pain of delivery.
Then, an explosion of intense light and heat and sound blew outward from the spinning eye of Proteus's storm. Behind it, came an overwhelming stench like brimstone and an immense mushroom cloud of thick, grey smoke.
As the cloud began to slowly disperse, so too did the creature called Proteus. A look of sorrow crossed his face.....and something else.
Proteus no longer stood alone.
As the yellow energy finally faded out of view, Proteus's sad expression held one corner of a smile.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Oct 27, 2004 15:59:19 GMT -4
He stood in silent shock with widened eyes and tried only to breathe. Tried, desperately, to comprehend what he was seeing. He looked first at the figures before him - one standing and fading from view, one curled up and shivering upon the ground.
Somewhere, he could hear the soft breathing of another.
He looked with astonishment at his own blue hand. He held it up before his yellow eyes, its two fingers no more or less odd to him than anything else in this world. This world? He didn't even know where he was.
He didn't know who he was.
He only knew that there was no way he could stand up any longer.
"Mein Gott..!", he said in a stunned whisper. With that, he collapsed onto the ground in a heap.
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Post by Logan on Oct 28, 2004 18:21:51 GMT -4
Still struggling against a tide of uncontainable emotions, Logan barely acknowledged what was going on. The air was thick with an acrid smell that for some reason Logan could not even put a name to. With wide and fearful eyes, he looked up and saw the ghastly but quickly fading form of Proteus. And right next to the corpse, Logan saw a ghost.
“M-m-misfit?”<br> He could hardly get a sentence out he was so frozen with fear.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Oct 28, 2004 18:43:58 GMT -4
The crumpled figure on the ground did not move. The way that he had landed looked very uncomfortable and his face was hidden by his arm and some of the debris that was strewn across the wooden floor. It took a few moments for the word to sink into his head.
"Ja", he answered in a very weak voice. "Gerecht geben sie mir zehn weitere minuten und ich verspreche, daß ich wecke."*
*pretty much "Yeah. Give me ten more minutes and I promise that I will wake up."
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Post by Storm on Oct 28, 2004 21:37:42 GMT -4
Mere moments after the threat had come, Ororo unconsciously resigned herself to her fate, and receded to the back of her mind. She wasn’t aware when the pain didn’t come. She didn’t hear Logan’s voice when he attacked the creature, didn’t even know he had arrived on the scene.
She didn’t hear the shrieks of agony due to the failed attempt to take over Logan’s body, nor did she see the yellow light that seeped from the many gashes in the creature’s form.
The storm raged on outside as a tiny hero made his attempt to save the others, the thunder rolled as his cries were cut short, and the lightening flashed as he vanished from sight, only to be replaced by another shivering form.
She was aware of nothing but the walls around her, and the silence in her own mind. Nothing... until the chandelier came crashing down on her. Staring up at the glass ceiling on her grave with sightless, it took the magnificent crystal light crashing down upon her for her to suddenly snap back to reality. As the shards of glass rained down on her much like the blood had earlier, she let out a silent scream, thrusting her arms over her head in a vain attempt at protection. The glass and metal cut into her skin, the pain bringing her back to life. Suddenly, she seemed to notice the storm, realize that it was her doing.
I have to stop this.
Closing her eyes tightly, she ignored the shards of glass that was imbedded in her skin, and tried to ignore the confining frame of the chandelier that pressed in around her. Taking a few calming breaths, she focused on her powers, and the elements around her. Slowly, the rain began to let up, and the booming thunder ceased. As complete exhaustion took her, she struggled to stay awake. Grasping the metal frame of the cage around her, she struggled weakly to push it off her, a frustrated and frightened whimpering escaping her lips.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Oct 28, 2004 22:16:34 GMT -4
He ran a hand over his aching head and tried to stop the pounding from inside. It didn't help. "Did somebody... get the number... of that truck?", he said wearily and with a slight, but noticeable accent.
Clumsily and very weakly, he pushed his body up enough to look at his trembling companion. His eyebrows raised in surprise.
"You look even worse than I feel, mein freund", he said with concern and just a hint of a smile. "I cannot wait to hear the story of how all of this happened."
Shakily, he looked around the unfamiliar room. He shook his head. "I find that I do not remember." A realization struck him and his expression dimmed. "I find that I do not remember much of anything.", he muttered.
Summoning strength he never could have on his own behalf, he stood and took the arm of his obviously shaken companion. "Let me help you", he offered. "Please....sit down."
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Post by Logan on Oct 29, 2004 15:58:02 GMT -4
With wide and petrified eyes, Logan looked over at Kurt as he approached, his presence only seeming to make the shaking worse. Though rational thought was fleeting, something flitted through his mind that Kurt shouldn’t be there. The last memory he had was of Kurt’s bloodstained image-inducer. Though it had never been confirmed, Logan had known that Creed was sending a message that Kurt was dead.
Then he remembered…reality was jacked.
No matter how hard he tried, Logan could not still his pounding heart, nor could he wipe the terrified look off his face. His presence of mind was so disjointed, that he didn’t even acknowledge a tear that slid down his cheek.
Logan accepted Kurt’s invitation to sit down, putting his face into his hands and shaking his head. “Sometimes it’s best not ta remember anythin’.” He looked up at Kurt through watery eyes, then over at Storm. “Ro…we got-gotta get her out…<br>
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Oct 29, 2004 16:32:10 GMT -4
In his weakened and battered state and his confused frame of mind it took him several seconds to understand what his companion was saying. "Vas-...? Who?", he asked as he scanned the room. Only then did he realize that they were not alone. There must be someone in the hole in the floor that looked for all the world like a glass-strewn bomb crater.
His expression fell.
"Lieber Gott...!", he whispered softly. He rushed to the edge of the hole in the floor without any further thought for his own pain or weakness. Lying on his chest, he peered down into the pit.
A woman cowered under the twisted metal and broken glass.
It broke his heart.
Although he had what some people would have thought were fearsome features, there was nothing about his compassionate expression that could ever have been mistaken for menace.
He held out his oddly-shaped hand to her and spoke in as soft and reassuring tone as he could muster.
"It's okay, liebchen....", he said quietly. "Take my hand and I will help you out. It is all over now."
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Post by Storm on Oct 29, 2004 16:47:28 GMT -4
Unable to move the chandelier at all, her injured arm screaming in pain, Storm bowed her head, tears trickling down her cheeks. She could hear muffled voices from above, but couldn’t seem to focus on them. She was afraid it was him. It. Coming back to finish her off. But when the voice drew closer, she found it was nothing like the menacing sound of her attacker.
Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she looked up to see yellow eyes, blue skin, and an outstretched hand. She found the voice soothing, his expression an instant comfort.
He must have stopped that menace... somehow...
This man, who by all standards could be viewed as a demon, looked more like an angel to the distraught Weather Witch. He appeared to be her saviour, bringing forth a strange vision. The same face, but a different time, a different garb. The robes of a priest?
He was familiar yet strange all at the same time, but so was everything around her. Her concept of reality had been horribly shaken, so even she felt like a stranger to herself.
“How...?” she whispered, wanting to know how he had defeated the creature, but also wanting just to forget it all. Of course that was something that would never happen.
Slowly, she reached out and grasped the three-fingered hand.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Oct 29, 2004 17:27:51 GMT -4
When she looked up at him he could see that she was injured by the way she held her arm. His hand easily covered hers and he slid forward and into the hole to better help her. "I wish I knew", he answered.
He clung to the edges with his oddly shaped feet and his devilish-looking tail.
Gently and carefully he lifted her through the wreckage of the chandelier, pulling her close and wrapping his arm around her to support and protect her injured limb.
"Allez-oop", he said softly in her ear. A flash of imagery crossed his mind as he said it. A circus. He paid it no mind and put his thoughts and his muscles to the task at hand.
In moments, they were both free of the pit.
He helped her gently to the ground, and only when she was safe once more did his own fatigue return to him.
He thumped to the floor on his backside and out of breath.
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Post by Logan on Oct 29, 2004 17:49:17 GMT -4
With a great deal of effort, Logan managed to turn to Storm as she was pulled free from the wreckage of the chandelier. Focusing on her well being, he managed to at least in part shake free the haze he was in.
Wiping his eyes with the backside of his hand, Logan looked her in the eye. “Sorry I hadda drop tha light on ya. It was tha only way….” A shudder ran down his spine, “…tha only way.”<br> Then he looked down at Kurt. He was too shook up to even be mad at himself for being too shook up. “You can’t believe yer seein’ him either?” With some amount of effort, Logan got to his feet, and came over to kneel down in front of Nightcrawler. Drawing in a few breaths, he recognized the scent without a shadow of a doubt.
He said he didn’t remember. Focusing on this dilemma was giving him strength as he pushed the incident to the back of his mind.
“What do you remember?”<br>
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Post by Storm on Oct 29, 2004 18:09:33 GMT -4
As Storm was finally freed from her prison, she almost cried out in relief, before settling for clinging to her rescuer and burying her face in his shoulder as he held her close. Only when he released his hold on her did she open her eyes again to see that she was free from what was sure to be her grave. Sitting on the damaged floor, she was only vaguely aware that he had fallen as her wide eyes surveyed the once immaculate entrance hall.
Suddenly, movement caught her eye and she started, before turning to see Logan. She could see in his eyes that he had not been immune to the creature’s brand of torture, but that he was trying to appear strong. At his words, she only nodded, not knowing what to say, not understanding. It had been him who had sent the chandelier crashing down on her? It was the only way to what?
Shaking her head, Ororo clutched her injured arm to her chest once more, watching silently as Logan got to his feet, his steps wavering as he approached the newcomer. He seemed to know him, a fact that made Ororo peer closer at the stranger. He seemed familiar, but different.
What of the little one I met earlier? Bamf? What became of him? she wondered, her mind instantly recognizing the similarities between the small blue child, and this much older, larger man. The same blue fur, yellow eyes, spiked tail.
But that wasn’t the only thing that nagged at her memory. It wasn’t that he resembled Bamf, but that she actually knew him. But how? Who? She could not place him... but for some reason she could recall the distinct smell of sulfur...
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Oct 29, 2004 18:24:29 GMT -4
Yellow eyes fell to the wooden floor in slight embarrassment. He searched his memories.
"Er...", he said as he looked shyly back at both of their faces. An uneasy smile crossed his lips.
"Not too much", he said with a soft chuckle.
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Post by Logan on Oct 30, 2004 0:42:54 GMT -4
“Not too much? Sounds more like nothin’ to me.” Though he was exhausted beyond belief, Logan reached an arm out to steady Storm. Somehow in serving the needs of her and Kurt, he was beginning to feel much more himself.
Storm looked injured and somewhat dazed. Kurt looked bewildered. Scrubbing a free hand through his hair, Logan looked from Storm to Kurt and tried to collect his thoughts.
“Well…yer in Chuck’s School, this is ‘Ro, and I’m Logan.” Watching Kurt’s face carefully, Logan figured that the amnesia might be more severe than he first imagined. “And yer tha Misfit.” No reaction. “Kurt Vagner,” he added with a terrible accent. Still nothing. “Nightcrawler. Any of this ringin’ a bell, or am I just wastin’ my breath?”<br>
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Oct 30, 2004 0:59:04 GMT -4
"I am.....sorry", Kurt said as he shook his head and closed his eyes.
"I remember a circus", he offered, hoping to sound positive. He tried but there was nothing else. His eyes opened once more and he shrugged. "And that only just came to me."
His skin was deep, dark blue. His expression grew even darker.
"I remember a yellow man.", he said in a voice that was just above a whisper.
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