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Post by Kurt Wagner on Mar 12, 2012 19:19:27 GMT -4
In a way, it was probably a lot like being born again.
But not in any good way.
It was excruciating pain and unbreachable darkness. It was gravity and convulsion that twisted and trampled and tore flesh.
It was screaming.
He was screaming.
And he was drowning.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Mar 12, 2012 19:19:55 GMT -4
Formless. Directionless. Smashed and beaten and thrown about. And then suddenly, he was hurtling. Catapulting. Falling.
He prayed with all his being that it would stop. And then, with all his being, it did stop.
And that hurt a whole lot worse.
It was like being hit by a truck. That was being hit by a locomotive. That had been tossed from the sky.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Mar 12, 2012 19:20:27 GMT -4
He wasn't sure how long ago he'd landed. He wasn't sure you could call it much of a landing. But slowly and painfully, Kurt Wagner wearily opened yellow eyes and lifted his head from the pavement.
Skyline. Silhouette. Asphalt. Cracked and broken, like he thought he must be himself. Wayward tufts of weeds and long grass had tried to work their way through shards, but had not survived the effort. All he could see was dust and rust and tangled metal fading into the distance of the newly breaking day.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Mar 12, 2012 22:14:41 GMT -4
"I am alive", Kurt shouted in defiance. His trembling effort to pull himself from the ground was not so convincing.
"I am", he insisted. "Alive."
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Post by Storm on Mar 14, 2012 14:40:40 GMT -4
The world was torn away leaving nothing and everything falling around her, or perhaps it was she who was falling while all the pieces remained. She tried to call upon the winds but they could not slow her descent. She could see nothing, hear nothing but, Goddess, she could feel, and it was excruciating.
And then it all stopped.
Slowly the darkness receded, but with the coming light the pain returned. All her senses felt heightened as she began to wake. She could feel the cold breeze tingling on her naked body, could hear the silence so deafening that when a voice suddenly broke it it was enough to cause her blue eyes to snap open sharply. Rolling to her side and propping herself up on one elbow, Ororo Munroe tried to ignore the pain that shot through every inch of her body.
“Are you certain?” she asked the figure, unable to identify him as the rising sun cast him in such strange light. Her own words felt strange on her tongue as if she spoke in a foreign language long forgotten.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Mar 15, 2012 18:26:05 GMT -4
“Are you certain?”
Somewhere between his faith and his humility, Kurt thought that what came after this life would be something wonderful. He believed in it, he just never quite ruled out the possibility that he would mess it up. Faith in God was somehow different than faith in himself.
But he did have hope that despite his all-too-human flaws his efforts in life and his belief in something more would tip the balance in the end.
Whatever this was, it wasn't wonderful.
"Nein", he admitted. He still hadn't made it past a miserable, trembling push-up and his breath scattered dust across the pavement.
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Post by Storm on Mar 17, 2012 19:34:31 GMT -4
The effort seemed to great, and Ororo wanted nothing more than to just roll upon her back again, close her eyes and perhaps surrender to unconsciousness if the Goddess were so kind as to grant it. It was not in her nature, though, to give in to such notions so she forced herself to remain as she was even if she did not, as of yet, push herself further.
As her companion confirmed her own uncertainty she let her eyes close if only for a moment. She did not know that language either, but even if the word itself was not recognizable, the tone in which he said it made it clear what he meant.
“I am not either,” she replied, wincing as she shifted her weight. “But the pain seems determined to convince me that I am.”
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Mar 17, 2012 21:10:46 GMT -4
It was the recognition of another's suffering that gave Kurt the strength to move past his own agony and work harder to catch his breath. He managed to pull his body into a sitting position.
He stopped there and leaned back on his arms. He tried to locate where the sound of her voice had come from. Everything hurt, and a hiss escaped his grimaced lips and clenched teeth.
He brought a hand toward his pounding headache and stopped, his eyes widened.
Blue skin. Two fingers. Kurt flexed his fingers and his thumb.
The grimace forced itself into a smile.
"I am alive", he said softly. Instead of defiance, he was clearly surprised. And pleased.
He found his companion's prone form. She was tall, with dark skin and cascades of long white hair. He knew her instantly.
"Ororo!", he said to her. The recognition surprised and pleased him more than his own revelation. She was someone he knew. Someone important.
She was practically his sister.
"Let me help you", he offered as he lurched awkwardly in her direction. The deed was not as impressive as the effort.
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Post by Storm on Mar 19, 2012 15:50:09 GMT -4
The more he spoke the more familiar he voice became, but Ororo was still having a difficult time focusing on anything but her own pain and confusion. Her arms shook from the strain as she attempted to push herself up into a seated position and, unable to bear the weight, eventually gave out. Falling back to her elbow, she bit back any sound of pain, unwilling to let it free.
Finally turning her attention back to the only other person that seemed to be nearby when he called her by name, she forced her blurry eyes to focus. The light had improved, and she soon discovered that it was not the shadows that made him so dark, but the deep blue of his skin.
“Kurt,” she said the name aloud, and as it passed her lips she realised it was true, and that she did know him. Watching him attempt to make his way over to her she winced again, this time for the pain he seemed to be feeling as well as her own. “I believe we are both in need of help.” Gritting her teeth, she once again attempted to push herself up.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Mar 19, 2012 23:02:13 GMT -4
Kurt slipped out of his leather jacket as he reached his friend and teammate. He slipped it over Ororo's shoulders and collapsed next to her, adding his support to her effort.
He knew that of all people, Ororo didn't have modesty issues, but that wasn't why he did it. He had modesty issues, and it was better this way.
“I believe we are both in need of help.”
"Ja", he agreed, "where is Logan when you need him?"
Somehow, it was such a random thing to say that it was funnier than Kurt had meant it to be. The idea that Logan could do anything to help their current situation... He'd probably just make fun of them and abuse them and tell them to 'walk it off' or something.
But the fatigue and the agony just served to make it funnier. Kurt started laughing until he could barely breathe. His eyes were watering as he leaned against Ororo, and trying to stop made everything worse.
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Post by Storm on Mar 23, 2012 18:17:20 GMT -4
With more effort than she felt should have been necessary, Ororo finally managed to sit up, but when Kurt collapsed beside her she did not deny the urge to lean against him. The jacket came as a bit of a surprise, and it took her a moment to realize that her lack of clothing was not acceptable to most. After feeling so free, the weight of the clothing on her shoulders felt a heavy burden but she did not shrug it off, nor did she thank him for it; she merely accepted it without a word.
Following Kurt’s next statement her friend burst into a fit of laughter, but she did not share his mirth. Another name she knew, one that meant very much to her, yet just as with Kurt she could not grasp onto anything specific. It was as if she was living in a fog, able to recognize things for what they were but unable to make out the details. She did want to be there for her friend, though, so she made herself laugh a little, leaning against him as much as he against her. For a time she said nothing.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Mar 24, 2012 20:37:57 GMT -4
He rubbed his eyes and tried hard to catch his breath.
"I needed that", Kurt admitted. It felt like such a long time since he had laughed. Such a long time since he felt a reason to.
He looked around. "Where are we?", he asked.
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Post by Storm on Apr 4, 2012 19:07:51 GMT -4
Despite everything, all the confusion and pain, Ororo could feel a slight sense of joy to hear laughter. It was something pure and good that did not belong in this place and felt like a way to fight back against destruction around them. She could feel nothing living around them, not tree nor flower nor grass, and it made the desolation that much more poignant. They needed to fight against it, but even that small reprieve did not last.
“I do not know,” she replied honestly. “I remember nothing before this, nor how I got here. It does not feel like any place I have been before.”
She could not say she did not remember being here before as there was little she did remember at this point.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Apr 9, 2012 12:36:34 GMT -4
"To me, either", Kurt admitted, though his sense of such things wouldn't match hers on his best day and her worst.
The bit of adrenaline rush he got from his laughing fit blunted the pain and gave him enough of a burst of energy to make it to his feet. "Let me help you", he offered along with an opportunity to take his extended hand.
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Post by Storm on Apr 13, 2012 14:28:15 GMT -4
Taking Kurt’s hand, Ororo was struck with a flash of memory of a similar gesture, in a place more familiar but much worse than where she was now. There had been so much pain, confusion, panic, and then an angel appeared to save her, one disguised as what many would call a demon. For a moment the memory took her breath away, but as quick as it had passed through her mind it fled again. She had no time to dwell on it now, she could only focus on the present.
Rising to her feet with Kurt’s help, she stood on unsteady legs, ensuring that they would hold her before she let his hand go. Removing the jacket from around her shoulders, she tied it about her waist, knotting the sleeves gently over one hip. Pulling her long white hair over her shoulders, Ororo positioned it to cover her chest. It was the most decently she could cover herself for the time being, and each action was carried out with precision and grace with not a hint of embarrassment.
“Where do you think we should begin?” she asked her companion once she was presentable enough.
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