As the name indicates...this RPG will revolve around Crossroads and New Beginnings.CrossroadsWe would like to see characters come to a 'crossroads' in their lives where important and life changing decisions have to be made. These events can be very personal...i.e. a relationship beginning, ending or changing, or they can be moral or spiritual. Whatever is decided, they should show 'growth' for your character.New BeginningsThis can be any number of items as well and most likely will relate back to the 'crossroads' in your character(s)' life or lives and/or career. They may be starting a new career as teacher or student at Xavier's School for the Gifted or may have been selected to train for the upcoming X-Men team(s). Their 'new beginning' once again may be as simple as establishing a new relationship or changes in an old one.
The X-Men and all likenesses are the property of Marvel Comics, 20th Century FOX, and ALL the creative minds therein. X-Men Crossroads is a non-profit RPG board. We here participate for the pure enjoyment and satisfaction writing in the X-Men Universe brings.Most of the Bio information is courtersy of Marvel Directory
"Don't know about that. Personally, I didn't know I was a mutant until a little while ago. Heck, I mean to some extent isn't every human a mutant because of small things that might go wrong on a chromesome?" Rawiri asked, shrugging his broad shoulders. It was more of a philosophical question than an arguement.
"I've known that I've been a mutant for around the last three years" Mez said. He knew that he was blessed. He knew this because he was still taking in air, so to be a part of the next stage of human-evolution was a big thing for his family when they found out. Accepting it open-armed, not something that probably a lot of mutants had to deal with. Mez never had the fear of losing his family, they would always be there for him no matter what he did.
"Not many of my people choose to wear these premanently any more, I will most likely be one of the few you meet who wears these markings all the time. They are the Moko, in ancient times they were symbols of rank and status among my people. In this day and age however, they are a symbol of my heritage," Rawiri explained. His right hand traveled to his face and traced one of the spirals there, flawlessly. He knew his Moko almost out of memory. He did not know as of yet all of the Moko on his face, but a great majority of them were commited to his mind's eye. Like the Maori of old, Rawiri was determined to use his Moko as a symbol of his identity.
"It was painful enough to recieve the Moko with a needle, I do not wish to imagine what it was like in the old days," Rawiri commented.
Mez had figured that Rawiri had recieved his Moko traditionally. But even with a needle such a tattoo is still quite painful, and very time-consuming, but Rawiri was right there weren't too many people in New Zealand who still knew the old ways of tattooing. "Got mine the old way." Mez said, He had to pull-up is shirt to allow people to see the tattoo covering his the whole of his upper-left torso. "My people call it **'Mnyamani'**, it means 'The ancestors blood', because the tattoo symbolizes all our heritage" The dark black color of a shark, a protector god of the Hawaiian people and the Octopus. Why Mez's father insisted on choosing Hawaiian images was something that boggled Mez, but he had been born in Hawaii. So maybe it was kind of natural that he get a tattoo in the same fashion his father had done but with a more unique design. It made James glad that his uncle was a professional artist before he decided to settle down in Ethiopia.
"My uncle performed it and my father did the blessing" Mez felt kind of odd explaining it. Mez's people were even smaller in contrast, to the Pacific Islanders, and the unique ways of his own village, still even more rare. It was a sense of pride for Mez, he was probably one of a few African-Americans, who actually could trace his lineage to the exact spot his people were from in Ethiopia.
The design of his tattoo, was made of shapes, triangles formed together and creating curves. It was a difficult process to do. He remember for 2 days how is uncle used white-ink in order to map out the tattoo. He had lie down for what seemed like ages in order for it to happen. "When I turned 16 my father and I went back to Ethiopia, it really was amazing to see the father-land, Ethiopia has some of the most diverse and colorful terrain on earth" The young man, said fixing his Tank-top shirt. Straightening himself out a little bit. "It hurk like hell, but it wasn't as bad as it should have been." Mez said, he really didn't want to describe why it didn't feel as bad. Truth was that the incense if that is what it's called that his father burned during the process, was made of ingredients with hallucinogenic properties, the point of process was to gain a higher level of spiritual awareness, because only on such a plain could one speak to the ancestors. His entire family-bloodline on both sides was buried deep into his skin, so that he would never forget who he was.
"Like many traditional tattoo's its a mark of my lineage, everyone of my family members is in my skin so that I would never be allowed to forget who I am, and where I'm from no matter what." Mez said. "It really was that important, not just to my father but to me as well, even my mother supported it.
"Don' take it too personal babe, I make lotsa guys die happy." It wasn't that Mez was a bad person...but it was very obvious that Stacy was jaded against guys in particular.
Mez quick as a whip came back. "I don't plannin' on dyin' any which way." The young man said his face straight. Mez felt like saying something like: "You're not gonna make me take you up on that are you?" but at the last second decided not to. Gabrielle didn't really feel he had a chance with her, most women of Stace's "profession" didn't exactly meet nice men, and were lesbians anyway.
"You shut yer mouth." She snapped. "Ya ain' even seen trash. Yer father was right, yer a smart ass." What gave him the right to start talking about the hard life? He had a father. A father who at least made it through his birth and stuck around. The only way Stacy knew that she wasn't dropped out of the sky was the fact that her birth certificate was legally written as: mother and father unknown.
Mez was growing tired of being clawed at every word. Mez's father told him a lot of things. A lot of which revolved around that even in a place like Hawaii you would encounter stupid and evil people. He looked at Mana "Did I miss something" is what the expression on his face said. Mez folded his arms across his chest again, and kept his head up, and kept his cool, even though his words were meant to sting. "Oh I've seen trash alright, I did the moment I laid eyes on you." Mez said to her, a lot of people had seen a hard-life but the young man felt least inclined to act like it gave him an excuse to be a jerk to somebody, especially since Mez was one of the people that actually helped her.
OOC:
**Mnyamani**
Pronounced: Min-ya-ma-nee
Definition: The ancestor's blood
Language: Amharic(Word itself believed to have relation to Ge'ez, Arabic, Hebrew and Bantu Language families. Although I am unable to verify this)
morpheusfan Proteus/Kiwi Black
Posts: 32
(4/23/06 12:38 am) Reply
Re: Foyer/Mez/Tags: Morpheus, Mana, Marina"I've known that I've been a mutant for around the last three years" Mez said. He knew that he was blessed. He knew this because he was still taking in air, so to be a part of the next stage of human-evolution was a big thing for his family when they found out. Accepting it open-armed, not something that probably a lot of mutants had to deal with. Mez never had the fear of losing his family, they would always be there for him no matter what he did.
"Most Kiwis don't honestly care. All we care about is our sports and our beer," Rawiri joked light heartedly. This was essentially true. Kiwis were moderates. Something for which he was grateful. Kiwis for the most part were a fairly laid back people. Provided they weren't too drunk of course. It was interesting to Rawiri that the largest single religous denomination in New Zealand were non religous with approximatley 26% of the total population. Rawiri just chuckled for a moment, remembering a shirt which read, "Ba, Ba, Ba...Beer, Beer, Beer". He had seen it in several shops in the Auckland Airport, but didn't buy one. He thought in retrospect it would have been terribly humorous.
"Got mine the old way." Mez said, He had to pull-up is shirt to allow people to see the tattoo covering his the whole of his upper-left torso. "My people call it **'Mnyamani'**, it means 'The ancestors blood', because the tattoo symbolizes all our heritage"
"Much respect," Rawiri said looking at the tattoo. He didn't want to imagine the sort of hell that must have been. The physical pain endured to bare the mark was a testament in itself to the willingness to continue tradition of the wearer. It was an interesting thing, the mark on Mez's body. Rawiri thought the design was almost beautiful, had it not been for the shark which made it seem almost preditory. Ever since seeing Jaws as a young child, Rawiri had a mild diversion to the ocean.
Rawiri rolled up the left sleeve of his shirt and exposed the Chinese character scrawled there. "This is from me dad's side of the family, me mum's the 'real' native although my dad is a natural born citizen," Rawiri explained. It was the beauty of the character that had made Rawiri decide on it, the significance of the markings came second. He rolled his sleeve over his bicep, concealing the mark again.
"My uncle performed it and my father did the blessing" Mez felt kind of odd explaining it. Mez's people were even smaller in contrast, to the Pacific Islanders, and the unique ways of his own village, still even more rare.
"So you're religous?" Rawiri asked, non-chalantly. He himself was close to being agnostic. Niether of his parents had been big into religion and Rawiri honestly could care less about metaphysics. Now was all that existed, now was how you defined your actions. Rawiri had tried to find more about the beliefs of the Maori before the Europeans arrived, but such information was little. Rawiri knew a few superstitions, but little else, his mother had only taught him the Maori language.
---
Proteus heard Stacy's comments and bit his lip to refrain from making an immediate reply. Such a thing was not in his manner. He thought for a moment, allowing the group to continue in conversation. He responded slowly, "I have to make a phone call, I thought I would excuse myself." He stood and walked out of the room. The phone call was a pretense, he just needed time to think.
He sat down, just outside of the common room. He pulled his legs close to his chest and let his head rest on his knees. It was the pose he had first assumed after he had become a fused being. Kevin relinquished all control to Lucas for a moment. Lucas could deal with crowds. Lucas could talk to people. Kevin was socially awkward.
Lucas stood up slowly. He would let sometime pass before he reentered. He didn't know what to say exactly. He needed to let time elapse for the "phone call" to occur. Lucas missed hearing the sound of his mother's voice. He even missed Moira's voice, and Moira was Kevin's mother. He was homesick, missing the highlands.
Re: Foyer/Mez/Tags: Morpheus, Mana, MarinaWarning: Language
Everything he said...was absolutely correct about her. Maybe that's why she wanted him to shut up so badly...or maybe it was the fact that he just kept talking long after she wished she let Animal Control kill her. "I've known that I've been a mutant for around the last three years" Stacy didn't comment on that, but she'd been a master over her powers for about 4 years; X Ranch had taught her to harness her power for pleasure, and she was a pro at it.
What she didn't get was how Mez obviously thought he had seen strife...and then went on talking about some special ceremony with his father and uncle. "My people call it **'Mnyamani'**, it means 'The ancestors blood', because the tattoo symbolizes all our heritage""My uncle performed it and my father did the blessing." Shit, she didn't even have someone she could call by name who could help her...she was a completely seperate entity. If Stacy wasn't a blemish on DCF's record, nobody was. Though they had never beaten her, the way they shunned her was even worse.
Stacy, as a child, had often prayed for a beating. That maybe, just maybe, she could have some physical contact that day. But alas, the rod was never lifted and her spirits continued to diminish. What also diminished was Stacy's interest in Mez's long, boring story about Ethiopia and a tatoo. Well, not until he shot back a retort at her, then she was quite interested again. "I don't plannin' on dyin' any which way." "Nobody plans when dey die, babe. It jus' happens." And that wasn't a retort in the least...that was the truth behind death. Death was not a half-assed creature...they got in and out, and there was no coming back.
And there was no coming back now from where Mez had put her. "Oh I've seen trash alright, I did the moment I laid eyes on you." For a moment, she just looked at him. Her dark eyes burned with something that could not be described in one word, they held a myriad of emotions behind them. "Yeah." She said finally; her voice was calm and level, but not harsh or cold. "I guess yer right. Ya ain' seen nothin' of the world tha' people like me live in. And yer damn lucky for it too." Stepping a bit away from where Kevin had left to make a phone call, she folded her arms over her chest.
"So ya go on an' talk about yer little drawings or whatever, an' ya tell your stories about yer happy little family." Turning, she didn't know where she wanted to go...but it was away from her. Suddenly, she turned, she expression blank. "But when ya hit reality, give me a call. I won' sit there an' make ya feel stupid about it."
With that, she took off, quickly but calmly at th same time. She just had to get out of there.
Stacy Exits TBD
TAGS: Mez, anybody
************************************
morpheusfan Proteus/Kiwi Black
Posts: 33
(4/23/06 9:52 am) Reply
Re: Foyer/Mez/Tags: Morpheus, Mana, Marina
Lucas saw Stacy storm out. He saw the anger in her stride, and something was upsetting her. Lucas could not read emotions as well as Kevin could, but Lucas had learned something from the normally passive Kevin. Lucas moved quickly, quietly towards Stacy. He didn't want to shout at her as that would make her angry most likely. He broke into a light jog to reach her. Lucas pulled up along side of Stacy, breathing just slightly faster than normal, a side effect of conditioning from real football, or as the Americans called it Soccer.
"Are ye alright?" Lucas asked. He looked directly into Stacy's eyes. He wasn't being confrontational however, he was trying to honestly read her, see her as she was. It was a difficult thing to read someone you didn't know well, you didn't know thier tells. Stacy's slightly unusual appearance would also make it mildly more difficult for Lucas to get a lock on her facial features.
Re: Foyer/Mez/Tags: Morpheus, Mana, Marina
WARNING: Minor Language
"Most Kiwis don't honestly care. All we care about is our sports and our beer," Rawiri joked light heartedly. This was essentially true. Kiwis were moderates. Something for which he was grateful. Kiwis for the most part were a fairly laid back people. Provided they weren't too drunk of course.
Mez couldn't but crack a small grin. "My kind of fun" Mez thought. There wasn't much better in life then simple things that a lot of people take for granted. Knowing how much his father loved sports especially Football and Boxing, a trait Mez himself also inherited.
The love of sports was only present in his mother who too was a fan of football, the same could not be said for his sister, although Mez's brothers still loved it. Regardless Mez's sister endured her families ranting on of football because it did bring them together. Monday's were their favorite day.
"Much respect," Rawiri said looking at the tattoo. He didn't want to imagine the sort of hell that must have been. The physical pain endured to bare the mark was a testament in itself to the willingness to continue tradition of the wearer. It was an interesting thing, the mark on Mez's body. Rawiri thought the design was almost beautiful, had it not been for the shark which made it seem almost preditory. Ever since seeing Jaws as a young child, Rawiri had a mild diversion to the ocean.
The young man had to bow his head slightly. Mez did it out respect for Rawiri, anyone hard-set on perserving their culture was someone Mez felt comfortable with "It was well worth it", Mez said. The physical pain for a tattoo the old way was incredible, but if you had a bad artist doing it then all that pain wasn't worth much. Which is why tattoing is such an important art at least for Mez anyway, important just as culturally as his native tongue.
Rawiri rolled up the left sleeve of his shirt and exposed the Chinese character scrawled there. "This is from me dad's side of the family, me mum's the 'real' native although my dad is a natural born citizen," Rawiri explained. It was the beauty of the character that had made Rawiri decide on it, the significance of the markings came second. He rolled his sleeve over his bicep, concealing the mark again.
Mez wished he could pull-out another tattoo. Especially one of Japanese design but he fell short in that category. "Nice" Mez said to him, he was glad to see culture preserved through art even when it wasn't his own. "I wish I had one of my mother's side." Mez said with a hint of half-dissapointment. "I'm half Japanese, I'd like to put a dragon, right along here." He said brushing the right side of his body. "I found a guy in the South Bronx that can do it, but I'm broke so." Mez said shrugging. "As important as it is I have to make sure my business is tight before I go doing something like that". He felt slightly dishonored that he had a tattoo not of his proud Japanese heritage, it at one point infuriated him but sometimes Mez found out that he needed to make sacrifices. His mother told him his education was more important but to a stubborn young man, personal identity seemed to be more important. But Mez was never one to disobey his mother.
"So you're religous?" Rawiri asked, non-chalantly. He himself was close to being agnostic. Niether of his parents had been big into religion and Rawiri honestly could care less about metaphysics. Now was all that existed, now was how you defined your actions.
Mez felt the question strange, but didn't outwardly show it. "Yes, my family's devout catholic, but...." Mez said. "We like to perserve the old ways. We pray to the ancestors and give them offerings, but I was baptised and went comfirmation like any good little catholic boy" He said, sometimes beliefs like that interfered but with Mez's family it never was a problem. "When I said my father did the blessing, I meant he did the proper rituals. Because when a young Amhara gets a tattoo like mine he is supposed to be now a Diligent Student. As such, I needed to be blessed, wishing me good-fortune in not only battle but in life in general." Mez said. He had yet to experience combat in a warzone yet, but so far Mez believed himself to be quite fortunate.
Nobody plans when dey die, babe. It jus' happens." And that wasn't a retort in the least...that was the truth behind death.
James really didn't have anything to say to that. She was right, Mez couldn't really help that. So instead he decided not answer that, some people did plan their deaths or at least expect them to happen, but mostly it 'just happened'. Mez still quite young already had that figured out.
For a moment, she just looked at him. Her dark eyes burned with something that could not be described in one word, they held a myriad of emotions behind them. "Yeah." She said finally; her voice was calm and level, but not harsh or cold. "I guess yer right. Ya ain' seen nothin' of the world tha' people like me live in. And yer damn lucky for it too."
For a woman that made her living pleasing men she sure didn't know that those words bit into Mez worse than shark-bite he ever could have. That was a direct insult to himself in Mez's mind, to accuse him of being ignorant of suffering, was something any black, any conscious human wouldn't appreciate.
Mez had seen and done a lot of dirty things, but after walking down the streets of Ethiopia's Captial, Addis Ababa, Mez knew for certain that his pain meant very little.
"I don't know what you've been through?" Mez asked his arms still folded across his chest, except this time his voice carried cool but slighter edge to it. "Maybe I don't" He shrugged. "I know that my suffering isn't nearly as bad as the story of a little boy in Sierra Leone, who had to watch as his mother was raped." The young man spoke with a near icey coolness. "I know that the life I'm living now out-classes 99.9% of the people on this planet" Mez said, everything he said more then true. "I know that eating puffed wheat, and hot-dogs a couple times a week to get through college is nothing to the boys and girls across the world that eat dirt and insects a couple times a week to get through life. I know that my suffering is not nearly as bad as the Bosnians when the Serbs raped the women, murdered the men and children."
"I know that my suffering is nothing compared to that" He repeated. "And if you think that yours does that you need to be sellin' that bullshit someplace else because I'm not buyin' it" He finished, he spoke loud so Stacy could hear him even as he walked out. He felt like scoffing at Stace's childish remarks, but kept himself in check. The time for pity was over. Mez wasn't really a pitying person. He had always lived by the idea that if you spelled "pity" backwards it spelled "y-tip", and Mez didn't really give people too many hand-outs. "You can sit anywhere you want to Stace. But one thing you won't be do anytime soon is lookin' down your nose at me, and you're the fool if you think you can."
morpheusfan Proteus/Kiwi Black
Posts: 34
(4/24/06 12:40 am) Reply
Re: Foyer/Mez/Tags: Morpheus, Mana, Marina"I'm half Japanese, I'd like to put a dragon, right along here." He said brushing the right side of his body. "I found a guy in the South Bronx that can do it, but I'm broke so." Mez said shrugging. "As important as it is I have to make sure my business is tight before I go doing something like that."
"There is a belief somewhere which states that where you come from does not matter, it is what you do that shapes who you are," Rawiri said. It was something he believed in. He was Maori, but he didn't let that shape his identity. He was Chinese, that didn't shape his identity. He was an older brother, and that shaped his identity as being an older brother was an action as well as a state of being.
"Yes, my family's devout catholic, but...." Mez said. "We like to perserve the old ways. We pray to the ancestors and give them offerings, but I was baptised and went comfirmation like any good little catholic boy"
Rawiri exhaled slightly, it was a difficult gesture to read. Rawiri didn't like holy places, perhaps it was a side effect of his power. It wasn't exactly psychometrics, but some objects already had a "trace" there, other energy present. Belief was a powerful thing, Rawiri had seen people recover using it. He had also seen people kill for theif beliefs. Rawiri favored ideas to beliefs, as an idea was easier to change. Beliefs were somewhat harder to change and often times were worth killing for in some cases.
"I don't know what you've been through?" Mez asked his arms still folded across his chest, except this time his voice carried cool but slighter edge to it. "Maybe I don't" He shrugged. "I know that my suffering isn't nearly as bad as the story of a little boy in Sierra Leone, who had to watch as his mother was raped." The young man spoke with a near icey coolness. "I know that the life I'm living now out-classes 99.9% of the people on this planet" Mez said, everything he said more then true. "I know that eating puffed wheat, and hot-dogs a couple times a week to get through college is nothing to the boys and girls across the world that dirt and insects a couple times a week to get through life. I know that my suffering is not nearly as bad as the Bosnians when the Serbs raped the women, murdered the men and children."
Rawiri saw the anger and said nothing for a moment. He remained silent. Mez had seen pain that Rawiri hadn't seen, this much was obvious. Rawiri however most likely was the most "normal" one here relatively speaking. He had a healthy relationship with both of his parents and New Zealand didn't give a rat's ass about mutations. It would only be a big deal if a mutant attacked during an All Black's game, then all hell would break loose. "Death is death, no matter where it comes from. There are states of being worse than death though. My best mate back home, his father's a drunk and his mother's never home. My little sister's classmate died from a heroine overdose. It scary to think about it like that. So many people refuse to actually deal with their problems, they turn to a poor substitute that ends up costing them their lives," Rawiri said. Drinking, though it wasn't the same level of illness among the American Indian peoples, was a problem for many Maori Rawiri knew. The film Once Were Warriors applied to several families Rawiri had known growing up. It was a difficult task, balancing the new world with the old.
Xavier's Office/Afternoon/JP: Xavier (Mana), X-23, J. Chase
Chicken! Karika was absolutely, positively in love with chicken. Not only was it filling and crispy, but it was delicious beyond measure. She had eaten a whole chicken practically by herself. And now...she sorely wished she hadn't. With food sloshing around in her previously empty stomach, it made her extremely queasy. Nothing seemed to help...she tried having a drink of water, which just made everything slosh more. Then she tried a little walk around...at least; Kitty had told her she was taking her to meet the boss man.
X-23 had followed her down a twisted path of corridors. It was difficult for her to stop the fluttering in her heart; who knew what was really going on. Karika wanted to sit down and she wanted Jonathon...at least she had her file back now. Kitty had led her up to a large oak door and Karika stood outside it. When she turned again, she was alone. Alone in the hallway, alone in the world...it was almost enough to make her jump out of one of the huge bay windows that overlooked the courtyard.
So, okay it wasn't just being alone in this building. It was the fact that she had no family. Jonathon had told her that when he explained what was in her file...there was no one. Karika wasn't the loving daughter of some poor family that was still searching for her; she was a medical experiment. In fact, she was Weapon X's 23rd try; thus, they had given her the name X-23. She was not special or loved...she was a group of cells. An expensive group of cells...but cells nonetheless. That's why Weapon X had continued to feed, clothe and train her...
Because she was far more expensive than any other weapon that the government possessed and 800 times as smart. But, there was one part of her that they had underestimated: her heart.
Slumping down against the wooden paneled wall, she let out a small sigh. In her head spun with the death of images she had created to soothe her through the nights: a loving mother, her father reading a story to her, parties like she had seen on the outside world...it was more painful than Karika dared to admit. Biting back the swelling of tears in her throat, she stared straight ahead. Yes, it was time to let go...she'd never be wanted or needed by a father or family. She'd have to settle for this place...
This home for mutant children.
Jonathan had been delayed returning to Xavier's office. Several things had conspired to keep him from getting back in a timely manner...a terrified kitten on top of a library shelf, Angel stopping him to tell him he would be leaving the mansion for an undetermined length of time, a spider in danger of being squished by a terrified student, and two puppies who were supposed to be in the kennel in their runs and not soiling the upper corridor floors. Jonathan smiled and shook his head, still musing over the day's incidents when he arrived at Xavier's door.
Frowning, he noted Karika slumped against the rich, panelled wall. She looked...abandoned. Kneeling in front of her, he gently reached out and tilted her face so he could see into her eyes. "I know it doesn't look it right now, little one, but it WILL be all right. Some us, myself included, don't have a real 'place' and must make one of our own...even those of us with blood relatives and family connections." Jonathan's blue eyes smiled encouragingly, "There are many out in the world that have a worse time and many that have it much better than any of us. We learn, we make do, we become better than what the world would make of us."
Jonathan released her; hoping his softly spoken words made sense. Standing, he offered his hand, "Shall we go beard this dragon together, Karika Yashida?" As he spoke, Jonathan tapped lightly on the door although he assumed the Professor already knew of their presence. That seemed to be a 'thing' with telepaths.
Karika had not been startled by Jonathon in the least. She had smelled him before he had even reached the corridor, and had heard his gentle footsteps far before that. It was a major plus to her extrasensory olfactory and auditory senses...she was almost never surprised. Then again, perhaps she was too cocky. As Jonathon kneeled beside her and gently cupped her face, his warm tone and the way he understood her pain, shocked her to the core. "I know it doesn't look it right now, little one, but it WILL be all right. Some us, myself included, don't have a real 'place' and must make one of our own...even those of us with blood relatives and family connections."
Looking into his deep blue eyes, she said nothing. Her eyes spoke it all, the depth of sorrow and the endless questions running in her mind that were now answered with a simple: Karika, you were a carefully calculated medical copy of someone we want under our thumb. Okay, so maybe Weapon X hadn't phrased it EXACTLY that way in her file...but that was the basic essence of it.
Still, Karika couldn't help feeling uplifted with Jonathon smiled at her. "There are many out in the world that have a worse time and many that have it much better than any of us. We learn, we make do, we become better than what the world would make of us." Karika nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Even in her brief sojourns out into the real world, a world beyond Weapon X, she had seen poverty beyond measure and yet, at the same time, she had seen wealth that stretched across the entire world. His words were not lost on Karika...she also understood the emotional side of it; though she could not voice the words, she grasped the meaning with a fervor that could not be matched.
Watching him with her deep hazel eyes, she marveled at his cool demeanor as he held out his hand to her. Jonathon was not an alpha male by any means...at least in the animal kingdom. But in a human sense, he was the very climax of knowledge and power to Karika; and she was forcing herself to trust him. Putting her small hand in his, she raised herself from her crouched position on the floor.
Gripping her file close, and keeping her hand firmly around Jonathon's she listened as he spoke. "Shall we go beard this dragon together, Karika Yashida?" Taking a shallow breath, she stared at the door before her. "No beard dragon." She echoed, with all the power and strength she could muster, before once again letting Jonathon take the lead.
The owner and founder of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was deeply relieved. It seemed the mission was in the process of being wrapped up. Now all that was left was to find everyone and get them home, the Professor not actually talking to Scott or any of the others via Cerebro, merely observing through some of their eyes.
Now, he was on his way back to his office, the lift seeming to take forever, well aware he had a meeting to get to. He’d sensed Jonathan’s surface thoughts they were ready for that meeting with him, gently searching for the man soon after leaving Cerebro.
Spotting the two shortly after exiting the lift, eyes lingering on the young form of Karika for a little longer than the norm, he motioned for them to follow him into the room, once they actually moved aside to let him in.
“Please, come in. I am finally free again to have that discussion,” he informed them, a warm smile on his face.
As Xavier moved toward them, Karika came face to face with the boss man. Actually, his appearance startled her. He was CERTAINLY not the Alpha Male...in fact, he would've been a nice meal for the Alpha Male because he was...well...he was in a wheelchair. In Karika's world, that meant weakness and weakness always ensued death. Her hazel eyes bored into him...
Even as she spoke, she remained shocked. Karika had to admit...she was starting to feel uncomfortable here. This whole school was a place she did not know...and she did not like being as shocked as she felt right now. “Please, come in. I am finally free again to have that discussion,” He might've been ready, but as Karika stepped from the doorway, she didn't feel like she was. Moving back quickly she grabbed Jonathon's hand, holding onto it as a safety blanket as she cradled her file in the other.
"Boss man?" She queried, and sniffed at him briefly. He smelled good, like strength and security. Already Karika was relaxing. Slowly, she was starting to realize that appearances didn't matter here. They were not going to judge her on her physical strength or aggressiveness; in fact, it was quite the opposite, the people here were going to judge her on who she was on the inside.
Pointing to herself, with her hand encumbered by her file, she made herself known. "Karika Yashida." Still holding staunchly onto Jonathon, she bit her lip. "Not X-23."
Jonathan gave Karika’s hand a reassuring squeeze and guided her to sit in the visitor’s chair next to the one he chose for himself. He nodded, smiling in Xavier’s direction, “Thank you for seeing us, sir.” He leaned forward to lay the second copy of Karika’s file on Xavier’s desk. “Ms. Yashida is applying for sanctuary with us. I believe, once you have perused her file, you will agree that we are her best hope for a safe haven.”
The younger man leaned back to wait for Professor Xavier, giving the other man a chance to read X-23’s comprehensive and very disturbing file.
Gliding into the room, his eyes following Jonathan as he placed the file on his desk, Xavier nodded, "Even without that she would be most welcome here," he said, smiling at her, "And it is wonderful to meet you, Miss Karika, please, do sit down," he added, opening the file and reading it closely, the look on his face changing to one of intrigue and definite concern.
A short time later, he looked up at the two again, "Well, I can now see what Jonathan means. You would be safe here, Karika. All of us will do the best we can to make you comfortable and welcome," looking at Jonathan at that point, he added, "It seems the young one has taken rather a liking to you, Doctor," motioning to the way X-23 was holding on to his hand quite tightly. "Perhaps you can be her advisor and generally just look out for her while she is here?"
“If it is agreeable with Karika, I will gladly add her to my mentoring group.” Jonathan said quietly, “We have some time before classes begin. I will see to finding which group levels she can be placed in. Perhaps a lighter class load than is normal would be in order, however?” He leaned forward, “I don’t think we want to throw Karika into an all day classroom situation immediately.”
Jonathan included Karika in his glance as he spoke. He didn’t want the child to think her life was being arranged without her say-so. “Does the sound favorable to both of you?”
X-23 was already liking the professor. He wasn't wary of her like some people had been and he wasn't bombarding her with stories either. He was very calm; X-23 was very grateful for calm right about now. And, he was suggesting that she stay, which made her even happier. "Even without that she would be most welcome here," "And it is wonderful to meet you, Miss Karika, please, do sit down," "Karika stay." She said quickly, indicating that she did want to stay. And with that, she sat down...on the floor.
Chairs were something rather foreign to X-23. Most of her life had been conducted standing up in the presence of the boss man. Or, she had been strapped to a table. Either way, she had never been asked to casually take a seat in a chair and relax. Sitting on the floor was the only option that seemed plausible.
"Well, I can now see what Jonathan means. You would be safe here, Karika. All of us will do the best we can to make you comfortable and welcome,""It seems the young one has taken rather a liking to you, Doctor,""Perhaps you can be her advisor and generally just look out for her while she is here?" The word cracked her straight in the face, and Karika dropped Jonathon's hand like it was on fire. "Doctor." She whispered, scooting away from Xavier, over to Jonathon. "NO DOCTOR!" She yelled, her hands itching already to bring out her claws. What she didn't realize quite yet was that Jonathon was the doctor. He had been careful not to tell her initially and it was not clicking now.
Her hazel eyes already warier than they had been before. Doctors were not who she wanted to see; she did not want to be a lab rat again. “If it is agreeable with Karika, I will gladly add her to my mentoring group.”“We have some time before classes begin. I will see to finding which group levels she can be placed in. Perhaps a lighter class load than is normal would be in order, however?” "Class?" Karika asked, cocking her head to the side. Class was not a word she knew the meaning of, but she had heard it before. “I don’t think we want to throw Karika into an all day classroom situation immediately.”
"No throw Karika." She repeated, wondering why people spoke so funny. Jonathon didn't want to hurt her, of that she was entirely sure. But throw was a word she did know...and it didn't make sense when he said it. Shrugging her shoulders just slightly, she listened as the final question was asked. “Does the sound favorable to both of you?”
Karika looked up at both the men before she nodded. "Stay with Jonathon." She said firmly.
Karika's sitting on the floor parted the Professor's lips in a smile, and now, because he couldn't see her properly over the desk, he glided his chair around to clear it, just in time for the young woman's outburst about doctors, of which the man gave Jonathan a look of deep concern. *You must be honest with her, Jonathan,* his telepathic voice was gentle, once again looking at X-23, "Yes, yes, of course, you will stay with Jonathan. And I agree with him, an all day class would be too much initially for you," at this point he looked back at the Faculty member, "I officially leave her in your care, my friend," the tone suggesting they were dismissed, unless there was further things either of them needed to say.
Jonathan frowned slightly at the Professor's mind voice. He felt certain they had discussed earlier the fact that he was a doctor but not the kind Karika needed to be concerned about. Be that as it may, in the excitement of the day, it may have gone unnoticed or slipped her mind or perhaps she had simply not correlated the reference to Jonathan himself. He nodded and smiled at the Professor's indicated dismissal and rose to his feet, gently tugging Karika's hand to get her to rise also.
"Thank you for your time, Professor Xavier. I will explain...perhaps even show...the type of doctor that I am so it will allay her fears." Smiling down at the young girl, blue eyes gentle, Jonathan continued, "We need to find you a room and a place to sleep."
OOC: No tags, will semi-start a new thread with JC getting X settled somewhere.
Edited by: Mana4X2 at: 4/25/06 8:16 am
Re: Foyer/Mez/Tags: Morpheus, Mana, Marina"There is a belief somewhere which states that where you come from does not matter, it is what you do that shapes who you are," Rawiri said. It was something he believed in. He was Maori, but he didn't let that shape his identity. He was Chinese, that didn't shape his identity. He was an older brother, and that shaped his identity as being an older brother was an action as well as a state of being.
Mez didn't find Rawiri's belief's to strange to him. Many people wanted to make their own destinies and forger their own lives. But their beliefs, although equal did seem to clash a bit. "Good point, but I believe, that in the path ahead just as much as the one behind me. Pretty much all the blacks in this country don't know where it is that they come from. I am one of those few Blacks that actually knows where my people come from, speak my native tongue and carry on my traditions." Mez said, he believed in it. He was lucky and he knew, and grateful for it.
"Death is death, no matter where it comes from. There are states of being worse than death though. My best mate back home, his father's a drunk and his mother's never home. My little sister's classmate died from a heroine overdose. It scary to think about it like that. So many people refuse to actually deal with their problems, they turn to a poor substitute that ends up costing them their lives," Rawiri said.
"True" Mez said, death was one of the few absolutes in this word. But the young man didn't really want to talk about such things, it brought about a lot of not-so-proud memories. By the time Mez was 12 he was already a theif. He chose to do it, no one really forced it on him, and he paid for it. Or more accurately, one of his best friend's did. "But perhaps its not as simple, you cannot blame people for doing evil if that is what is always shown to them. They become only what they know. Some, just a few actually have the strength,will, and fortune to turn themselves around all by their lone-some. But thats no usually what happens, a lot of times they need outside help to fix their lives, and a lot of times that never happens. So they continue to walk that wrong path and 'he who advises evil dies by it and he who digs a hole falls in it'" Mez said quoting an old Amharic Proverb.
"The kind of selfless people necessary to help others are in short-supply and in high-demand. Everyone no matter deserves the choice to choose the life that they live, get that second-chance. Thats what I think Xavier's is all about, the second opportunity, because take it from me, man, you don't get too many chances in this world. Life is short and you don't get a sequel to it, least on this earth." Said the young man.
Re: OOC
Just letting you know that Mana has left without saying anything further since the guys got to talking to each other. She didn't want to interupt. Am moving her after Stacy.
Re: Theatre Room/Early PM/Alisa, Marina and MorpheusBen took the offered stick of gum and put it in his mouth after unwrapping it. "Thank you," he said to Jubilee as he started to chew his stick of gum. He then looked to the door. "So, shall we get lost together?" he asked with a slight grin on his face.
Jubilee smiled as her bubble popped. "Sure." They walked out the door and into the foyer. "Well, what else can we talk about? We covered why we're here, and what we've been doing before coming here... Is there anything you want to know about me?" She asked, trying to make conversation.
OOC: I know, short and icky, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Sorry all.
Ben was not used to this at all. He tried to remember the way things were before the accident, how he would've reacted then, but could only blush. Finally, a question hit him, "How did your powers first manifest?" he asked.
Tag: Jubilee
Edited by: Loganfan2481 at: 4/26/06 11:18 am
Re: Front gate/The White Queen/Tags: Anyone?
Emma Grace Frost stepped lithely from the back door of her large car as it rolled to a stop near the entrance of the mansion. The high stiletto heels of her white leather boots crunched on the gravel as she took a few steps forward to get a proper look at the front of the house. She tilted her face slightly upwards and to the side, lifting one manicured hand to slip large sunglasses a little way down her nose to reveal narrowed blue eyes. A slow, cool smile spread across full lips and she allowed herself a moment of deep satisfaction mingled with relief at returning. But then the moment was gone and she pushed the sunglasses back up to the bridge of her nose and turned to observe the actions of her driver.
The hulking man had begun to move an array of luggage from the boot of the car to the gravel outside. Emma slinked towards him, enjoying the feel of his eyes on her body; even after working for her for many years, he still wanted the White Queen. As it should be, of course he has no chance, but it's the thought that counts she thought to her self, amused. "Well done, dear. Move them up to my room now. I shall go and re-introduce myself" she said with a wicked smile, her eyes glinting behind her glasses.
She turned sharply on her heel and strutted to the door, her long, tailored coat flowing around her as she moved, emphasising every movement. She placed on slender, gloved finger on the door bell and held it down from one long moment. Stepping back she leaned her weight on her right hip, and placed a hand in the curve of her waist as she waited for someone to open the door. After a minute or two, Emma narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, one foot tapping impatiently on the gravel. Reaching out with her mind, she sent a though into the mansion. "Charles, if you are in there, send one of your darling little brats out here to open the door for me". She was not one to be kept waiting, especially not at the Mansion. Flipping her hair back over her shoulder, she waited outside the door for it to open.
Re: Front gate/The White Queen/Tags: Morpheusfan, Mez
Mez heard the doorbell ring for little bit. "Got another one?" He thought, place was more popular then he thought. Well there was no shortage of mutants around, wouldn't take too much motivation to look up Xavier's and get there. Place was hard to miss that was for sure.
"Hey Kev." Said Gabrielle looking back at him. "Why don't we flip a coin and see who gets this one." He joked. Mez didn't really have a coin on him and he certainly didn't have time to decide who would get the door. Mez just decided to walk up to it anyway. He looked through the door and....Mez didn't really know that to think.
"What is it with this place, is it the location or something?" He wondered. Didn't matter, you could plainly see through the little peep-hole somebody was outside and not just anybody, a somebody who didn't really like waiting and the guy carrying this woman's things meant she matched this kind of place. Mez had never been in a Mansion before so this kind of thing was new to him.
He opened the door and The White Queen standing a little bit impatiently at the door. Mez stared at her long white leather coat. A regular leather coat was expensive but a full-on pearly white leather coat. Mez never imagined such a thing. Especially since there wasn't a speck to be found on it. Throughout his life Mez had cleaned entire bathrooms with a tooth-brush, he knew clean. He'd be in deep if a molecule of dust was found in his uniform during Officer Candidate School."This lady was probably born wearing Gucci or somethin'" Mez thought.
Recovering as fast as he could. "Afternoon ma'am" Mez said, with a small smile. "I'd ask to take your luggage but it seems you got covered" He looked back at the big guy carrying all of her items.
morpheusfan Proteus/Kiwi Black
Posts: 36
(4/27/06 12:49 am) Reply
Re: Front gate/The White Queen/Tags: Anyone?
Kevin instinctively reacted to the White Queen. He couldn't explain it. It wasn't a power or anything, but when he was around psychics, he got 'the chills' for lack of a better term. The stronger the psychic, the stronger the chill. It was almost a warning that to possess that person would be foolish. Kevin down right physically shuddered in the White Queen's presance, she was damned powerful alright.
Kevin inadvertantley crossed himself, a gesture of protection. He was shocked at how fast his fingers made the motion. He muttered the "Hail Mary" to himself in Scottish and moved back from the White Queen as is her aura itself was ice. He knew physical distance was a limit for some psychics, but based off of the intensity of the chill, Kevin guessed that distance alone wouldn't be enough to distance himself from it.
Lucas didn't understand why Kevin did what he did, it was an odd gesture, which seemed strangely out of place in this sort of company. Kevin didn't seem to appologize though, only bow slightly. It was a gesture of respect born out of half realized fears. He didn't know how much of his mind the White Queen might be able to read, but Kevin didn't want to take any chances and with a thought put up his mental defenses, leaving Lucas in control of the body.
---
Rawiri was puzzled by the shorter boy who seemed so eager to get away from the young woman who had entered the room. The White Queen was certainly good looking, so it couldn't be any physical factor that had repelled the silent lad from the corner. Rawiri just shrugged, it wasn't his place to know such things.
"What is it with this place, is it the location or something?"
"Must be, can't say that I'm really that partial to the weather though," Rawiri expressed, half joking. New Zealand was generally a little warmer than this. The winter on his part of the North Island wasn't all that bad. It varied from place to place to be sure, but generally, weather in New Zealand was fairly mind. Rawiri turned and walked towards the door and stood midway between Mez and "Kevin" as the other lad had been dubbed. Rawiri thought that it might grant Kevin some cover.
Rawiri saw the man carrying the baggage and said nothing. He just raised his eyebrows, the shape of his facial tattoing changing slightly. It was a gesture which said nothing specifically, but implied many things. This was a woman whose family might be among the wealthiest in America. She was certainly well dressed.
"Kia ora," Rawiri said in form of greeting. He made no translation, it was a habit. Rawiri was a big believer that tone of voice made a lot of difference to some people when it came to understanding language. He had greeted her warmly enough, time to see what she would do in response.
Walking around the Mansion
"Well...," Jubilee began, deciding honesty is the best policy. "I was living at the mall for awhile, long story, and stealing to survive. I was being chased by a rent-a-cop and got cornered. Suddenly, my powers burst out of my hands and blinded the guy. I took off and finally went home. Thankfully my Aunt Hope was there otherwise, I don't know what I would've done." She looked up at him, smiling grimly. "I'm not... I don't steal anymore so please don't think that I'm, you know, a criminal or something." she said nervously.
Re: Front gate/The White Queen/Tags: Morpheusfan, Mez
Emma was about to reach out and summon Charles to the door, when it swung open to reveal a handsome young man. For a long moment he stared at her and she could read feelings of awe sparking off him...for her coat?. That wasn't something she was used to from young men. She gave him a moment before stepping forwards; he seemed to recover himself and welcomed her.
"It's simply wonderful to see that Charles is still teaching his students such impeccable manners, don't you think?" she pointed out with a smirk as she walked past him into the entrance hall of the mansion. She could see others there, watching her entrance, but she waited a moment. Mainly to collect herself as an overwhelming feeling of rightness flowed through her. She was meant to be here, this was home. To hide her emotions she busied herself with taking off her glasses and carefully putting them away in her Chanel handbag. When she looked up again, any trace of emotion had left her face and she surveyed the students in front of her with icy eyes.
A young man with tattoos covering his covering his face said something in a language she didn't understand, but she senses the intention behind it. She extended a hand towards him.
"Emma Frost..."her voice trailed off and her eyes flicked to a boy standing behind the others. Something about him, something wrong, there was...two? Unusual even for the Mansion. Her mind reached out towards him but came up against mental defences, she could probably breach them easily, but an innate sense of respect stopped her from prying further. It would not do, to invade a child’s mind on her first day, she concluded as she turned her attention back to the others who had welcomed her. Edited by: Fionnoula at: 4/27/06 5:47 am
Quote:"I'm not... I don't steal anymore so please don't think that I'm, you know, a criminal or something." she said nervously.
Ben gave Jubilee a look of understanding, "Well, I used to fight people to the death, but I wouldn't call myself a murderer," he said, knowing exactly how she felt. They entered the foyer and witnessed the arrival of a coldly beautiful woman who even made Ben stop and stare for an instant.
Re: Walking around the Mansion
Jubilee smiled. "I wouldn't call you a murderer either." She watched the beautiful woman enter the mansion and make her way in. Her eyes didn't leave the woman, amazed by her cool beauty. Noticing that Ben stopped, Jubilee was torn between jealousy and laughter. She knew she'd never be able to pull off the air and clothing that the woman had on, but that just wasn't who Jubilee was.
Poking Ben's side, Jubilee grinned at him. "Hey, cute girl here. Drool over the lady later."
Re: Front gate/The White Queen/Tags: Morpheusfan, Mez"Must be, can't say that I'm really that partial to the weather though," Rawiri expressed, half joking. New Zealand was generally a little warmer than this.
Mez didn't really expect that. He meant it another way. He half-smirked at what Rawiri said to let Emma and her bodyguard pass. One big boy he thought as he passed carrying all her luggage, all in white.
"It's simply wonderful to see that Charles is still teaching his students such impeccable manners, don't you think?" she pointed out with a smirk as she walked past him into the entrance hall of the mansion.
Mez really wasn't a student he was a meer guest here at the mansion and half-debated whether to tell her that or not. " I can be quite certain that manners are very important here. I am but a guest here, madam. I thank you just the same" He said with a simple smile.
The young man felt whatever it was that Kevin felt too. Mez didn't really feel The White Queen's power until he heard her speak. "Whew woman has some serious stuff" Mez started to become fully aware of her power. Mez had only realized his telekinetic abilities with water for only a couple of years, but he felt the power from this woman emanating right from her skin, it seemed.
Beautiful and deadly....awesome, He thought. Then he figured he shouldn't really be thinking that, sense she could probably figure that out real quickly. Mez didn't really know what her gift was but it was far from his simple ability of controlling water. Not so simple but it was Mez felt in comparison to the White Queen. He had always wondered where he got the ability to "sense" things, it wasn't one of his mutant powers, but then again it might be. Psychics always felt some kind of sense on some level didn't they. And realizing danger seemed to be something that saved his life on some occasions. But that was where it stopped his abilities never reached the ability to "sense" any thing other than danger. He was a "hydrokinetic" not a telepath.The kind of Emma gave at Proteus made Mez believe that he still didn't know everything there was about him. Mez refused to give into the fear of just being around her, and squared himself away.
Quote:Poking Ben's side, Jubilee grinned at him. "Hey, cute girl here. Drool over the lady later."
Ben winced at the poke and shook his head to clear it. "Sorry, Jubilee, I, uhm," he started stammering. he may have been gone from society as a whole for a few years, but he could still be completely and utterly speechless by members of the oposite sex.
Tags: Jubes and anyone else in the entryway.
Edited by: Loganfan2481 at: 4/28/06 4:34 am
Background: Many, many years ago, Charles Francis Xavier established Xavier's School for the Gifted. Also, seeing other Mutants misusing and abusing their powers, he created the first generation of the X-Men.This original team was trained and lead by an old friend of his...Logan, aka Wolverine. Logan's co-leader was a young woman and student named Ororo Munroe, aka Storm. Once the team was trained and fielded on active missions, they took on the additional responsibility of teaching and helping new Mutants deal with their powers.On one horrible night, the X-Men were fielded to stop a particularly powerful Mutant and his 'gang'. The 'intelligence' received on this Mutant and his cohorts was sketchy and actually turned out to be a set-up to entrap the X-Men and take them captive. In the ensuing melee', 'things' happened and a number of the team were killed outright or severely injured.After making sure his remaining team-mates were going to be okay, Logan left. Xavier has not, to current time, explained his absence or even whether or not he survived.Current Time/Game Time: Almost seven years later, as Human/Mutant incidents are on the rise, Xavier once again sees a need for a Mutant 'police force'. He sees this new X-Men team as a force for good and a way to help peacefully integrate the rapidly emerging Mutant society with the established Human society. To this end, he has contacted Logan and asked him to 'come home' and train his 'new' team.
Logan has reluctantly agreed.Can shadows from their past be put aside for the good of the new X-Men? How will the surviving members of the original team react and what will they do as 'truths' are learned about that disastrous night?Note: We want the new X-Men to include younger versions of the old familiar characters such as Scott, Jean, Beast etc...as well as many of the OCC’s and other Canon characters that are available.Please ask the Staff BEFORE stating or establishing that your character was one of the old, now disbanded, original X-Men.
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