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Post by Gambit on Jul 16, 2009 13:31:12 GMT -4
The trek above ground had not lasted long, yet Remy strangely found the tunnel he was currently moving quietly and swiftly through to be more comforting. Here there was no room for a surprise attack, but more than that it was the feeling. A tunnel was meant to be dank, dark and close, while the city above should have been bright and fresh. One expected the smell of death and decay underground, not above. The city was an unsettling place with its dilapidated buildings and eerie silence and the Cajun man was glad to be rid of it.
That was not to say that a sense of foreboding hadn’t settled in his heart. The closer he got to his goal the less God spoke to him. Without his guide’s constant reassurance he couldn’t help but feel more and more alone.
Rounding a bend, he suddenly stopped short, his heart hammering in his chest. Up ahead, he could see light. He was there. He had made it. He wanted to run, to conquer the short distance that remained between he and his destiny, but now was certainly not the time to throw caution to the wind. Keeping close to the wall he crept forward. As he grew closer sounds began to accompany the light, and fear began to cloud his anticipation. These were not kind sounds. They were cold, mechanical, electronic, but it was the rhythmic and familiar beeping that he feared most.
After an eternity yet not enough time, he finally reached the end of the tunnel. Taking a deep breath, red on black eyes, demon’s eyes, peered around the corner into a lighted room...
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Xavier
Training Mutant
X-Men
Posts: 39
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Post by Xavier on Jul 16, 2009 22:43:07 GMT -4
The glow was a deep blood red. It pulsed feebly, threatening to fade into blackness, barely hinting at the shape of the cavernous space. The dome was laced with criss-crossed cables and electronics that throbbed and clicked like struggling insects caught in its web-like metal tentacles.
A slender walkway extended into ebon nothingness like the plank of some accursed pirate ship. At its terminus, a tangle of tubes and cabling and wire seemed to erupt upward like some sort of man-made mechanical volcano.
It was not at first apparent that its apex held the form of a man.
Well, part of a man.
His corpse-like flesh was torn in places...in others, it looked eaten. His arms were bound by cables from above, a heavy skeletal conduit emerged from the back of his skull and snaked off into the volcanic pile of machinery.
Below his ribcage, there was nothing organic.
Thoughts reached out from flesh too far gone to speak as the body trembled and he struggled to lift his head.
It was nothing compared to the struggle within Charles Xavier's mind.
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Post by Gambit on Jul 18, 2009 15:17:33 GMT -4
When used to the simple surroundings of a chapel, the room the priest suddenly found himself in was foreign and terrifying. The walkway led to nothingness, as if it led to the very end of the world, and despite the hammering of his heart that threatened to drown out all over sounds, his feet seemed to move him forward of their own accord. There was something at the end, something dreadful yet important. It was the purpose of his life, everything he had been fighting for, and while part of him wanted to turn and run he knew he had to see this through.
The closer he got to the apex, the clearer and more horrendous the image became. He only stopped moving when he realised just what it was he was looking at.
Whether they realise it or not, every believer has, somewhere in their mind, an image of what God looks like. Whether he look like a man, or a blinding ethereal light, everyone has a vision. What stood - no, hung - before Remy looked more like it was born of the hottest fires of hell.
“Mon Dieu,” he whispered, frozen in shock. It was the only thing keeping the contents of his stomach where they belonged.
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Xavier
Training Mutant
X-Men
Posts: 39
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Post by Xavier on Jul 18, 2009 19:53:06 GMT -4
The pain was excruciating. The feedback loop that was key to everything had done more to destroy Xavier's body and mind than any of the greed and experimentation of Henry McCoy. To be sure, McCoy had done terrible damage in his obsession to add mental powers to his arsenal of mutant abilities...but it was the telepaths that made Xavier such an easy target. Ironically, as they controlled him and kept him immobilized....kept him alive, he controlled them. Made them do Magneto's bidding. Believe Magneto's lies. And they....they controlled everyone else. It was diabolically simple, and it gave Magneto... Erik....everything he had ever wanted. But Erik had underestimated Xavier's strength of will. It wasn't much, but he had defied Magneto's command and the power of the other telepaths and had sent out a cry...a plea...for help. It was Magneto's arrogance and paranoia that had given him the opportunity. Had he not hidden the source of his power, there was nothing Xavier could have done to defy him. As it was, he did not have the strength to do more than whisper to a receptive mind. The word disciple was an unfortunate misconception when it came to the man who had come to his rescue...one that Xavier regretted but had not tried to correct. The priest had followed his every request with zeal. He wondered if he would have told the priest the truth, had he the strength. As it turns out, he did not. But in truth and in his hopes, savior was the more appropriate word for his new companion. At least in Xavier's mind. ".... please....", he thought with every ounce of strength and defiance he could muster, ".... kill me...."
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Post by Gambit on Jul 18, 2009 20:29:50 GMT -4
He wanted to look away so badly but he was transfixed. Not a machine, but barely a man, this pitiful... creature... the priest couldn’t even complete a thought. He could only stare... until he heard it. The voice. That voice. His voice.
For so long it had been his companion, a comfort when things were bleak, a reassurance when he was confused. The voice of God, the confirmation that he had a higher purpose. It had guided him through so much, gave him strength and will and now...
“Quoi?” Remy whispered, shaking his head. “I... I can help. I came t’ help.”
It was all a lie. Had the voice ever truly lied to him? He could not remember, but he had obviously spent all this time lying to himself. A messenger of God? How egotistical he had been! Whatever this was before him, man or monster, it was certainly not a God of any sort. How could this be the saviour of the world?
He had failed. In succeeding in his mission he had failed in his purpose. It truly was over.
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Xavier
Training Mutant
X-Men
Posts: 39
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Post by Xavier on Jul 21, 2009 19:04:57 GMT -4
"No", Xavier said directly into the mind of the priest. His fragile form shook as he tried to emphasize his message with the lurching movement of his head. There was a clatter of metal as the cables that held him, confined him and kept him alive reacted to the motion.
He wished that he could laugh. He wished that he could scream. Something. Anything to make the younger man understand that he had not failed. That all he had to do to succeed beyond his greatest hopes was to....
"...KILL me...", he repeated. He hoped that the plea in his expression would add the urgency that his mental strength would not allow him.
He had too much to communicate. There was too little time. It was almost certain that they would not be alone much longer.
With the last of his strength, Xavier sent a barrage of imagery into the thoughts of the last person he would ever see in this world. He hoped that the next one would be a better one than this.
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Post by Gambit on Jul 24, 2009 10:20:18 GMT -4
The image only seemed to become more horrifying when the man tried to move. Or what was once a man, at least. He seemed almost more machine now than flesh, except the voice... that voice... Remy could actually feel the pain within it as it reverberated in his head. That absolute desperation that one only felt when there was nothing else; when there was no hope. Despite being led astray by his own ideals, the priest wanted to help.
Taking step closer, he was stopped cold as a series of images suddenly flooded his mind. He saw a land untouched by civilization, people unmarred by war and prejudice, and... something else. Something important. More important than anything else in the entire world.
When he finally opened his eyes, Remy found himself kneeling on the floor. So overwhelmed by the experience, he looked up at his guide with wide eyes. “It’s... it’s still possible? De world... it don’ have t’ be dis way?”
He needed the reassurance. He needed to know that he hadn’t wasted his life chasing an ideal and a future that would never come to pass.
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Xavier
Training Mutant
X-Men
Posts: 39
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Post by Xavier on Jul 29, 2009 0:48:16 GMT -4
The defiance had taken its toll. Though he wished many things to be different, Charles Xavier knew that such a dream could only be accomplished by others. Magneto's hold over him made it possible to control so many others. Every telepath under Xavier's influence extended that reach to countless more.
There was only one answer. Only one escape.
"Yes", was his final, feeble, pitiful reply.
It was all that he could manage.
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Post by Gambit on Aug 4, 2009 17:00:10 GMT -4
Yes, it was still possible. Yes, he could still change the world. Yes, things didn’t need to be this way. One word, a single word, yet is said so much and it meant even more. It was not too late.
Getting quickly back to his feet, Remy ignored the lightheadedness he felt momentarily and approached the man. Squinting at the contraption that bound him to this machine, the priest tried to determine the best way to free him.
“Den we best get a move on. I gonna get y’ out o’ dis t’ing,” he explained, his accented voice filled with urgency and a renewed determination. “Den we gonna leave dis place an’ get y’ some help, an’ den y’ can tell me what y’ need me t’ do.”
Whatever it was, he would do it.
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Xavier
Training Mutant
X-Men
Posts: 39
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Post by Xavier on Aug 7, 2009 12:37:22 GMT -4
There would be no leaving. Not for Xavier.
The machinery that held him captive was all that kept him alive. Connected, he would probably last for dozens of years.
Maybe more.
Torn free, there just wasn't enough of him left to sustain him for more than a couple of minutes.
Maybe less.
His hope was not for himself, but for a world made better by his choices.
It might have been that hope. It might have been the hope and kindness in the words of the other man. There was a glimmer of expression on Xavier's face, full of warmth and encouragement.
...and forgiveness.
He closed his eyes and waited to be released.
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Post by Gambit on Aug 10, 2009 22:08:10 GMT -4
With great haste, Remy managed to loose one of the man’s hands from the cabling that held him captive. He tried not to look at the torn and tattered body; tried not to think of what would happen next. Once this man was free... then what? There was so little left of him, what life could possibly be waiting outside? The priest would have to carry him, it would slow him down... but he could not just leave him here. This was his destiny, this man was the key to everything.
Reaching for the other hand, it was then that he noticed the large conduit that seemed to sink within the man’s skull. Moving closer, he examined it with quickly fading hope.
“I don’ know how t’ remove dis one,” he admitted. How deep did it penetrate within the man’s skull? This was sophisticated equipment, Doctor McCoy had truly been a madman. He couldn’t just... “I could sever it, look at it later,” he tried to explain, talking as much to himself as his guide. Realisation was starting to settle in, cold and harsh. “If I disconnect y’... from all o’ dis...”
He left the question partially unasked. He felt he already knew the answer. “Y’ led me dis far.” Stepping back, he looked the man in the eyes, his face full of emotion. “Please, I need y’. I need y’ t’ tell me what t’ do.”
This voice had been a comfort for so long, always leading him, always giving him hope. It made him believe he could be something, that he could change the world. He needed that now, that comfort and determination. He suddenly felt overwhelmed by the fact that he would be doing this alone from now on. He couldn’t do this alone. He wasn’t ready.
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Xavier
Training Mutant
X-Men
Posts: 39
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Post by Xavier on Aug 12, 2009 0:03:19 GMT -4
He had already done what he could. The messages, the images he had planted within the younger man's subconscious, would send him on. Lead him where he needed to go.
To find what he needed to find.
The artifact.
But he was unable to say any more. The loosening of his bonds had shifted the weight of what remained of his body. It was difficult to breathe.
Softly, laboriously, he gasped for every remaining breath.
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Post by Gambit on Aug 12, 2009 11:47:35 GMT -4
He needed guidance, he needed help, but with a sinking feeling Remy realised that this man was no longer in any shape to do so. He was the one who needed the help now... and maybe that was the point all along. Maybe this was his destiny. This man had helped him find his way for so long, maybe now it was his turn to repay the favour. But what he had to do to repay it... the priest wasn’t sure he could do it.
“If I release y’...” he said, but it was obvious that this man knew what would happen. He had known all along. ‘Kill me’ he had begged earlier. There was so little left of him, what life could he even have outside of here? Remy was coming to terms with the fact that he couldn’t free him, couldn’t save him... but maybe in releasing him, that was the only way to save him.
Time was running out. He had to make a choice, probably the hardest choice he had ever had to make in his life.
“Do y’...” he started. Lowering his eyes, he swallowed hard. “Do y’ have any last words?” The man was struggling to breathe, let alone speak, but Remy knew he didn’t need his voice to speak.
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Xavier
Training Mutant
X-Men
Posts: 39
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Post by Xavier on Aug 14, 2009 18:42:43 GMT -4
The frailty of his ravaged body was misleading, for Charles Xavier's mind remained the most powerful on the planet. Had it not been for Magneto's arrogance...his paranoia...none of Xavier's defiance would have ever been possible.
Magneto's power should have been absolute. It would have been, had he not hidden its source.
In his heart of hearts, Xavier couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't Erik's guilt that had given him a sliver of a chance to tear it all down like a house of cards.
Yet, even now, Xavier did as he was commanded to do. He held the other telepaths firmly under his...under Magneto's...will. In turn, they removed any shred of disagreement from the minds of those within their spheres of influence.
All but the very ends of the earth did Magneto's bidding.
But the fight there raged on. Closer to the source of the King's power than anyone guessed.
Anguish crossed his features as he fought to place an image in the mind of the priest.
A ragged volcano, angrily spewing a dense column of smoke and flame into the sky. Power pulsed within the inferno like a living heartbeat.
A breath.
The volcano exploded violently upward and outward sending showers of rock and magma into the dense jungle below it.
A gasp.
The universe is born anew in a burst of blinding light, expanding swiftly to fill the empty void with possibility....
Xavier's broken form shuddered and went limp. He was silent for a very long moment before he sent one final image. Shrouded mostly in shadow, he did not appear to move at all.
Dark silhouettes. A younger man knelt by the softly breathing remains of an older one bound in machinery and metal. There was a neon glow of energy in violet hues.
Machinery and man alike went silent.
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Post by Gambit on Aug 20, 2009 12:26:03 GMT -4
The images flooded his mind and his senses, and the priest knew without knowing where his path would lead next. He knew what he had to do, and even when this man was no longer able to guide him, he would not fail. He had been wrong, this was not the end. His mission was not completed, yet, but not he thought he understood. After today things would definitely be different, but there was still work to do before the world would be right again.
The final image, though, was the one he both dreaded and expected. It was the only way, he knew now. He could still save this man, just not in the way he had originally thought.
“Almighty, everlastin’ God, who art nigh t’ help all dat are in danger an’ necessity, we beseech thee, in deep humility, dat thou wouldest come t’ help dis, thy servant, in his extreme need; strengthen him in his death agony, an’ convey his soul into everlastin’ happiness,” Remy began to speak. After a moment of involuntary repulsion, he wrapped his arm around the man, supporting his weight so that he could free the bindings. It made it more difficult having only one free had to work with, but he worked rapidly, hastily, yet careful not to waste a moment.
“Look, O most merciful Creator, wit’ de eye o’ pity upon our dyin’ brother, and comfort de soul which thou hast made; dat bein’ cleansed from all its sins, it may be received int’ eternal glory.” The arms free now, Remy reached for the cable that led into the dying man’s brain. It was his lifeline. Without it... Dis is de only way. Resolving to save his thoughts and feelings for later, he tried to focus on the task, convincing himself that he was just freeing this poor soul and not condemning his own to hell. Grasping the cable, he watched the metal casing begin to glow and take on a fuchsia tinge.
“Merciful God, who lovest de souls o’ men, an’ for deir good dost chasten dem wit’ temporal punishment, we beseech thee let thy fatherly love an’ divine consolation be imparted to de soul o’ thy servant, now wrestling wit’ the pangs of death;” he released the cable. Having charged it with just enough energy, he shielded his eyes as it blew apart, severing the cable in half. Lights started to flash and alarms to sound from the equipment surrounding them. “Dat bein’ purified at his decease, he may be borne by de hands o’ holy angels to thee, his Creator.” Loosing the last binding that held the man, he lowered him to the floor. Kneeling beside him, the priest cradled his head, the partial cable that still protruded from the back preventing him from laying him comfortably flat.
“O God, receive thy servant int’ de dwelling-place o’ joy, as he hath hoped, trustin’ in thy mercy.” Red eyes filled with quickly growing anguish watched the man’s face, one hand behind his head the other upon the barely rising and falling chest.
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