Beyond Evolution

Cary had it down to a system. Go to class as Miracle, slink off at lunch or ditch the last few periods to recuperate in his (thankfully private) room as himself, go to training, pass out. It was a tenuous system at best, but it had ensured that only a handful of people in the school were aware he didn't always look like a giant, chiseled hunk. The counselor, that Cal guy, Shatterstar and the handful of other students in his training group--who were all too tight-lipped about themselves to go blabbing about him to everyone. He was friendly on the journals but avoided people otherwise, too nervous they'd ask why he stayed in powered form just to go to class, and frankly, he wasn't even sure why. It wasn't as if looking like he'd been in one too many fist-fights was the strangest physical deformity a person could have at Xavier's. There was that green guy, and the silver winged girl. And the lion. Whatever the reason, the thought of losing half a foot and a nose that didn't look broken nearly gave him panic attacks, so he was going to stick to his terrible system for as long as he could.

But terrible systems being what they were, it was destined to fail. He was staving it off as long as he could with late-late night runs to the kitchen, avoiding people in the halls and making sure the place was cleared before skulking in, all 5'8" of him. He kept one ear trained on the doorway, listening for footfalls to warn him to change back as quick as he could. Although he was still in his regular non-Miracle clothes, he realized. Shit. And that energy thing Monica had given him was making him a little jittery. And he was tired; running around as Miracle all day wore him out. Was someone coming down the hall? Shit fuck, this was the worst system. He froze with his hand on the fridge door, the milk carton still in one hand, tensed to change but taring at the kitchen doorway.

Please just let him be hearing things.

[GEORGIE]

The X-ternals’ success in easily taking down Sugarman and his lackeys had been sufficiently dampened by the fact that all of their remaining teammates were not there upon their return. Hearing the news of those that had been taken, Vange’s rage and desire for revenge immediately bubbled up to a degree that she was barely able to contain. Even being one of the more volatile members of her team, the soldier’s bond that held all of them together ran just as strong in her as any of the others. Then of course there was the odd, maternal way her behavior shifted in respect to certain individuals that just added fuel to the fire within. With the blood of fallen enemies still lingering fresh on her tongue, she’d sniffed their trail to the same abrupt end as others had, then proceeded to scour every inch of the school herself. And of course, her efforts proved just as futile as anyone else’s. But failure wasn’t something that sat very well with Vange, particularly when it came to the protection of her own ‘hatchlings’. For a while it seemed that the dragon metamorph had a sort of uneasy reconciliation with the reality of the situation, however temporary it might be. But that was far from the case.

It wasn’t until around the middle of the next day that something- clicked. Moving through the hallways of the mansion, Vange purposefully made her way outside. As soon as there was enough clearance room she shifted from woman to creature, kicking up a brief gust of wind as massive wings were spread to take to the sky. Moments later she descended again in the exact middle of the hedge maze, branches snapping and cracking as the landing flattened the foliage there. Breathing rumbled forth in deep, even measures that could almost be labeled calm as the beast circled the spot to survey it properly. Soon enough a decision seemed to be made and Vange was off again, this time heading into the edges of the school’s grounds. The woods were given the same thorough consideration as the hedge maze before specific bits and pieces were chosen and clamped between her talons for transport back. The trip was repeated several times, every branch and piece of brush brought back being added in its proper place. Her work was meticulous yet swift, and before long it was clear that what the purpose of it all was. ( Vange was building a nest fit for a dragon. )

While the X-Ternals arrival to Sugarman's base of operations hadn't been anticipated, he wasn't wholly unprepared. He and the other refugees (if one could call them that) from their world hadn't necessarily gotten along, or trusted one another. But they could all agree on two things -- that they didn't feel like getting taken down by the Grey brat, or reforming their ways. And so a loose communication system had been set up between them at their various locals, a warning rigged up. If one was attacked, the other two would know so that they could begin preparations to at least kill the group at some other time, if not right then.

That was how the Dark Beast had known that the X-Ternals had found Sugarman, even if he was only vaguely familiar with the group itself. They had been formed after he himself had been pulled from that world, after all. But he'd known that Nate would be back one day, and that he'd likely try to be some kind of hero when it came to taking he and his ilk down. Well, two could play at that game.

The attack on the school wasn't immediately obvious. He had no reason to go in, guns blazing -- or, more correctly, to send his workers in. A pale white mist had crossed the grounds, innocuous enough that it triggered no alarms as it worked its way into the school via cracks at the joints of windows and doors. It wasn't poison, although it was a chemical-based assault. Its design wasn't intended to harm the residents of the school, merely to put them into an extremely deep sleep. It was at this point that Dark Beast's men went in.

When the school woke up from where it had collapsed hours earlier, Ali, Miranda, Valerie, and Elias were gone.

(Either open for reactions or a narrative! People at the school can feel free to post/comment after having woken up (early Sat morning!))

With permission given to Lorna to fly the Blackbird (since she not only had the training for it, but used to lead the teams alongside Scott's younger brother), the group of AoAers that Nate had chosen left on Friday, headed out to South Africa to find Sugarman.

He wasn't the most attractive of creatures -- a hideous being, in fact, who had been one of the runners of Apocalypse's many work camps. In addition, he was known just as Sinister and Dark Beast were for having secret laboratories in which he preformed sometimes-deranged experiments on humans and mutants alike. Unlike Sinister, though, and even Dark Beast (who both fancied themselves actual scientists), Sugarman's facilities were known for the level of cruelty and torture that his unfortunate patients were subjected to. When Nate had finally discovered him, hidden by the same kind of psionic-blinding devices that Dark Beast had used to hide Nate previously, before he'd shown him how to return to his own world, he was already working on new projects. Primarily, a mutate-bonding process that would forcibly enslave humans to various mutants that he chose -- his Magistrates, as he referred to them as. He was trying to create his own group of followers, to build up a hotspot of his own like before, but luckily it was still small-scale enough that he wasn't yet trying to take over South America. Local reports of the things going on, however, were how he was ultimately found out. When was when the X-Ternals went in.

His base was underground, and the plan was really more of the shock and awe variety than something involving a whole lot of stealth; the X-Ternals had more than enough firepower, to say the least, and Sugarman's own powers were physical rather than psionic. While he had mutant Magistrates and their slaves as guards, there were not hundreds of them. It would, theoretically, be an easy kill.

What they weren't aware of, however, was that a hidden warning button to someone else was being triggered as they came in.


(Open to the AoAers going to fight Sugarman (and his lackeys)!)

((backdated obviously!))

Well....shit. That hadn't exactly gone to plan, had it? Not that there'd really been a plan in the first place, which was part of the whole problem, here. Rhett knew that his powers didn't protect him from injury, and Spencer knew what happened to cars when they hit him, but a lack of communication between the two had ended up in something completely avoidable (albeit hilarious) as a result. Rhett wasn't really clear on what he'd been thinking in general, other than that it sounded fun. He knew that Spencer had a forcefield, but for some reason he hadn't really equated it with running headfirst into a wall at 60 mph. He'd been thinking more along the lines of something like bouncing off in a comically amazing way. At least something in his mind had clicked a warning into place at the last minute, giving him just enough time to turn hard and hit his side against Spencer rather than his head, sparing him the broken neck or cracked skull that would likely have resulted otherwise.

Still, he was injured. The shock of it had shifted him back to human as he'd hit the ground after flipping, and pain had shot through him immediately. He wasn't even sure where it was all coming from, at first, although he was in tune enough with his body and various injuries thanks to sports (and hitting the occasional wall when racing) that he had a pretty good idea what had happened to him. Once he had shifted back into his car form, at least, to avoid the pain. Something with his ribs -- at least one was broken. And his shoulder had popped out of joint. He'd told Spencer (via his speakers, thanks) to get his brother, thinking of Ryder before the healer or any of the other medical staff. Ryder was no doctor, but he'd been there the thousand other times that Rhett had been hurt somehow, had helped fix dislocations or help him hobble to where someone could examine him. Not to mention, he was huge and so was Rhett. And Rhett knew that when he shifted back, it was going to hurt, and he was going to want someone to grip onto; better his hulking mass of an older brother than any number of the other, smaller people around.

And, really, there was the simple fact that it was his brother. This was still a strange, foreign place, and he was injured and kind of freaked out. He wanted someone familiar there, and he wanted the buffer that Ryder tended to provide between Rhett and anyone else, if Rhett was feeling exposed or vulnerable for some reason.

So, he was still waiting in car form now, his passenger side holding a rather large (and vaguely person-shaped) indentation, having declined to shift back at Val's request (and subsequently turning up some music if people kept asking). When Ryder did appear finally, the driver's side door opened without prompting, waiting for him to get in before it shut again, and Rhett's voice appeared in place of the music. "Uhh....hey. So, I think I broke something."


(Open to Ryder! And also anyone else that was out there if they would like to tag?)

[ooc: backdated to winter break.]

They had pushed all of the furniture out from the middle of the room, including chairs and couches (where Rene and Sal had spent the previous night), so they would have more space. Space for what didn't necessarily matter, since there wasn't much of a predetermined structure to the evening, though it would work for dancing or lounging or passing out -- perhaps in that order. At this hour, it meant sitting on the rugs and blankets on the otherwise stripped floor, arbitrarily stoking the fire in front of them and passing around bottles of open wine -- the glasses had been eschewed once they'd been mixed up after dinner and which brand or flavor being sipped and in what order no longer seemed relevant either.

Sal was utterly relaxed and unconstrained, here, and it suited him. He seemed like he was 20 again rather than 30. But this sense of ease almost made him seem more mature and genuine, a departure from the dual silliness and seriousness that defined him most at the school. He was playfully engaging in some kind of hand game with his friend Piper, which seemed to sometimes involve smacking her hand when he could catch it under his own, which was not much bigger, or sometimes letting her trace the inside of his arm with her short, pale nails. He kept a bottle stable between his knees but it was almost empty, and dislodging it might disturb her long legs, which were comfortably and warmly draped across his lap.

( Later, he would work up the energy to push himself up from the floor. )

Megan knew she should have gotten around to unpacking the last of the things in her new room by now, especially considering she’d been at Xavier's for the entire break. But even with the school half empty there had still been plenty of people and things to distract her. And as always, she was an expert at finding things to distract herself. Then at some point the new arrivals began and there were people to meet and welcomes to be made and cupcakes to bake on top of her own distractions. But unpacking was an inevitable chore and now there was finally only one box of things left to rummage through and find places for. Getting closer to the bottom, Megan reached blindly in and pulled out an item that made her pause. Her helmet. It was a little funny that the pink and black design had been chosen long before her hair had any black in it, and long before pink had started taking over her formerly blonde head for that matter. ( It made her think of home, both the little town she’d left behind, as well as her grandparents. )

Rhett was, quite literally, outside kicking rocks.

The day had gotten marginally better when Ryder had shown up, but was still by and large a wash for him. The night before hadn't been any better -- for the first time since he'd been a teenager, he was actually staying in for New Year's Eve. He didn't really know these people, and wasn't really sure what the waters were like around here just yet. He'd been dry since getting off the plane and that hadn't helped his mood, or the desire to just stay in his room and feel sorry for the state of his life, regardless of how much of a role he had in making it what it currently was. Alexis was in the city, he knew, and he couldn't help texting her -- wanting to talk, wanting to meet her, wanting to try and plead his case again, as though if he restated it one more time then she would change her mind and decide that it was okay. He knew that she had a very valid reason for not wanting to see him; he'd lied to her, about something major, for the entirety of their relationship. Not to mention the fact that he was a fraud and a cheat, and all the other things he'd been proven to be by the courts. The texting hadn't gone well, but he'd eventually fallen asleep, only to wake up in no better a mood then he'd passed out in.

Ryder had lifted his spirits briefly, especially once they'd gone out for some food and something to drink. His brother's endless optimism could be good in that way, but with the funk that Rhett was currently in, it had only done part of the job. Now that he was back at the school and Ryder was sleeping the plane ride off, Rhett was back to feeling low again. He wasn't sure about the journal systems. He didn't know what half of the people here thought about him. He'd seen Ryder already attacked once for what they'd done, which was upsetting, but he'd also seen Ryder get fawned over by nobodies, which was equally upsetting. And he had class tomorrow. A full day of classes that he didn't want to be in. It was awful.

He wanted to go home. Back to Queensland, back to his old bedroom, back to hide in his parents house. Even though they weren't happy with the boys right now, he knew that it wouldn't stop his mother from hugging him, or from the place feeling like home. But he was stuck here instead, in the cold. Or the somewhat-cold, at least. Rhett was used to much warmer weather, of course, and when he went somewhere cold it was usually to snowboard or to be at some resort. He didn't have clothing for vaguely-cold weather, and so a rather large ski jacket was all he had to work as a cover-up as he walked the grounds, drinking some of the small bottles of airplane liquor that Ryder had grabbed him. And kicking rocks.

This sucked.


(Open!)

If someone had asked her what possessed her to make the gift for Will she was currently carrying Luce wouldn’t have been able to articulate it. It was complicated enough already, the way things were between them. Which wasn’t to say it was awkward, no, she didn’t think it was awkward at all now (though there were moments of uncertainty). Luce liked hanging out with Will, she liked talking to him, she liked his insights and his questions about this and that, she liked that he took an interest in her life and let her take an interest in his and while the things she had said to King months ago about things never being about her when it came to guys were still there they were wrested under control because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t really about her was it? Not her or the Other Luce, it was about Will. He was still grieving, she thought, and as hard as it was for her to wrap her head around their friendship it had to be harder for him. Needless to say at this point it was never hard for someone to work their way into her heart, Luce found it easy to care about people, to want the best for them, the desire to spare them pain be it emotional or physical was an intrinsic part of who she was so it was no wonder she’d become what they commonly termed a Lifer at Xavier’s; there was almost always someone who needed a little nudge, a little care and attention. People mattered to her. ( Will mattered. )

[ narrative! ]

New Year's Eve. A time for new beginnings and saying goodbye to old habits and welcoming a brand new life for yourself. Which was exactly what JP was going to do. .....Or, well, it was exactly what he was planning to do, at least. He had the ring, thanks to Walter. He had the blessing of the Carduccis, thanks to Val. He'd told his sister, whom he'd put off telling until only a few days prior because he wasn't entirely convinced of her secret-keeping abilities. Everything was in place.

Now he just needed to actually do it.

It was a harder thing than he'd thought it would be. Self-deprecating as JP could be, he was more than aware of his accomplishments, and the struggles in his life that he'd overcome. He'd been on Alpha Flight, he'd been on the X-Men, he'd survived the deaths of pretty much everyone who'd ever tried to take care of him, he'd been part of a terrorist cell, he'd dealt with teaching teenagers -- and yet asking this person that he knew loved him and wanted to be with him was more terrifying than all of those things put together. He felt like the ring had been burning a hole in his pocket ever since he'd bought it (and subsequently hidden it -- first deep within the recesses of his closet, and then in a safety deposit box at a bank out of paranoia that Luci might somehow uncover it otherwise), and he knew that his moods had taken a beating for it. He'd been more quiet than usual, alternating between being short-tempered with his students and being so distracted that they could do pretty much anything that they wanted. He was jumpy around Luci, constantly seeming guilty over something due to the secret he was keeping and his surety that Luci would somehow know. And he'd been disappearing at odd times, needing to get away to think, or to go and see people in Canada, or just to get the ring out of the box and stare at it for awhile.

But tonight was the night. New Year's Eve. When the ball dropped, when the New Year was officially here, that was when he was going to do it. He and Luci were out in the city, JP for some reason thinking that it would be easier with a crowd around that they could get lost in -- or at least easier than if he was alone with Luci for the hours leading up to it, unable to hide his mental pacing. But now, as it was starting to lower, his fingers couldn't stop turning the ring over and over in his jacket pocket, his heart hammering like a hummingbird's. He just watched the large orb as it descended, frozen, unable to shout the count out along with the rest of the people that were there. At the FIVE!, he turned, feeling his heart suddenly stop completely as he looked at Luci. "Luci --" Oh God, he couldn't even breathe. His throat was closed up and his tongue felt too heavy to speak. Fingers crossed he could manage some semblance of the words before he passed out right here in front of everybody. At least they were all too busy watching to notice what the hell he was doing.

All too soon, he heard the ONE! followed by the beginnings of the song and the cheers and shouts of HAPPY NEW YEAR! around them. He moved forward to catch Luci's mouth in a kiss, feeling like the touch of the other's lips was giving him a surge of strength. He could do this. He loved him, he wanted to be with him -- wanted it more than anything. As his mouth slowly pulled away, his eyes opened to look at Luci.

"Marry me."

[Open to Luci, obvs :D!]

Maybe Noah was going crazy.

Yes. That had to be it. He was slowly but surely losing his grip on reality. Whatever invisible cord that tenuously knitted his rational thought processes together was fraying, unravelling and dissolving, leaving him with a whole handful of loco. And like dry sand slipping through fingers, he couldn’t seem to keep a good grasp on what little semblance of sanity he seemed to have left.

There was no other explanation for it. First, a totally inappropriate and vehement reaction to a felled fucking tree on the journals, and now he had walked into his bedroom to find a perfect duplicate of himself standing at the window, completely butt naked. Fuck, was this one of his Spores? Even in a world where men could pull apart eight hundred thousand tonne bridges with their minds, where the universe could be cleft in two by tiny pink-haired fairies allowing demons to practically leak through the ensuing cracks, this to Noah seemed entirely out of the ordinary, and altogether wrong.

His other self turned toward him, slowly and unsteadily, as if he wasn’t too sure how his legs worked just yet. Automatically, Noah’s eyes flickered down to the space between his doppelganger’s legs and expelled a disappointed sigh. A perfect fucking duplicate. “Seriously?” He muttered, more to himself than this--thing. Pronouns wouldn’t do. No need to add to the insanity. Noah reached for a pair of silk boxer shorts, and held them out, “Can you—can you at least put some clothes on?”

( His other self blinked, a dopey eyed expression frozen across his face. (The quiet vanity Noah possessed flared up at this point, and he lamented at the fact his Perfect Duplicate didn’t look more like, say, Chris Evans.) )

[narrative]

OOC: Sooo feel free to have your character say they saw Noah acting really suspicious with Some Dude In A kimono and hat (who looked A LOT like him XD). Or even if they saw him down at the lake, though he'll swear it was just...wood he was tossing into the water >.> NOTHIN' TO SEE HERE.

By the time the break had rolled around Rose was practically ready to crawl out of her own skin just to separate herself from Xavier’s for a while. At some point the daily distraction during the hours she spent in the city had become woefully insufficient. She needed an extended opportunity to get away from the place she was sure was a deathtrap and would probably kill them all one day, away from the people that infuriated and irked her on a daily basis so much she found herself having to constantly quell the desire that they just up and disappeared off the face of the planet, and away from the people she was done letting herself care about because it hurt too much when she felt they weren’t doing the same. As much as she had needed the break, the preparation for it had threatened to send her anxiety to levels they hadn’t approached in months, fueled by concerns about this matter or that detail. And to her surprise it had all turned out much better than she expected.

Instead of it being awkward, spending time with Sal’s mother was somewhat easier without him around. Rose always did find herself a little more at ease when she was in Seattle, trying to ride the fine line between wanting to be closer and not wanting it all to fall apart like she assumed it was going to eventually. And of course, not having the automatic and undeniable need to address the off the charts tension between her and Sal, or why they still weren’t talking to one another, or what their endless list of roadblocks to sibling harmony was comprised of helped quite a bit. So did the fact that Rose could pretend it was all normal. ( As if it was perfectly normal to spend the week before Christmas with your biological mother while dancing around the fact that you weren’t even on speaking terms with her son or what that might eventually mean, and then spending the holiday itself plus the week after it with your birth family who had no idea about your biological mother or seventy five percent of the things your life revolved around. )

It was funny really. Before she had come to Xavier's Beau had wanted nothing more than to stay at home. She might have hated her neighbourhood after all the friends shunned her for a freak but she had wanted to be near her family, she'd wanted to look out for her little brother and sister while her parents worked on their stupid divorce and she had definitely not wanted to come here: Mutant High.

Of course now that she'd been at the school for a while and found friends, now that she'd started fitting in with her peers she had wanted nothing more than to come back after her brother had started getting better, really getting better. It pissed her off; her parents treated her like a damn yo-yo, tossing her away like mutant trash and then clawing her back like nothing had happened, like they hadn't hurt her with their careless disregard for what she wanted or what she felt. Beau was happy to be back at school, she had missed her friends and even the grounds themselves, but she was upset she'd had to yell at her parents and threaten them with a rampaging lioness to get their attention enough to agree to her coming back. Beau had hugged her siblings tightly, a little too tightly with her enhanced strength (something she was meant to be working on) and then she had gotten back as fast as she could.

After she'd said her hellos and dropped in for a counselling session that was, apparently, unavoidable no matter how much she wriggled and squirmed to get out of it, after she'd slept like the dead for fourteen hours she had to get up and go. Beau needed air, just to be outside and be quiet and find that carefully constructed eddy of control she had been working on since coming to the school. They were trying to help her ~become one~ with the ~beast~ inside of her but Beau was still trying to cage it; she was still the boss, she thought, she was still the one with the key to the cage and she didn't want the thing getting out on her no matter how much it itched and groaned. To maintain that tenuous control she needed to be away from walls and windows and doors, she just needed to breathe.

[ sharon! ]

If Lani’s college dreams ever fell through, there was no doubt she’d have a future in event planning. Besides a natural flare for interior design and an innate desire to boss others around, she had organisation skills in spades. It was why she’d been on the prom committee at her old school in freshman year, why she’d help decorate every dance at Xaviers since she’d enrolled and why she’d been especially horrified by the tacky Christmas scheme before she’d gone home for the holidays.

Christmas was a fairly big deal in her house, though only since her mother had left. Before her grand departure Lani couldn’t really remember anything significant about the 25th of December, besides the gifts that had been lavished on her to make up for all the shouting and broken crockery that had gone on during the year. As soon as she’d been old enough though, Lani had decreed Christmas hers and her father’s special day. So she’d made sure to have someone come in and decorate before her return and had then spent most of the day itself cooking in the kitchen. Although her father tried to dissuade her from cooking every year -claiming Chinese take away would suit him just fine- Lani wanted everything to be perfect. Any less than that and what was the point of it all?

So when she entered the dining room to find three place settings instead of two, there had been a momentary sense of confusion. Then, realisation and anger, quickly followed by a false smile and tense meal when it emerged her father had invited his girlfriend over. Lani knew not to make a scene though, if she did then the whole day would be ruined and she would not ruin Christmas over her father’s whore. So she smiled sweetly and paid the woman false compliments, admired the way the fairy lights lit up the room and told herself everything would be fine. And it was, until dessert was put on the table and she noticed the slightly nervous looks being sent her way.

“What?” she’d snapped, hackles raised, because she knew they’d been talking about her while she’d been out of the room. Why else would they look so guilty now that she’d come back?

Her dad had put his arm around his girlfriend then, a gesture of unity that made Lani roll her eyes before she could stop herself. “We have some news, Lani. Really great news that we’ve been waiting to share with you.”

He glanced at the woman, smiling encouragingly, and she blushed a little before meeting Lani’s gaze. “Your father’s asked me to marry him... and I’ve said yes.”

Later, after she’d screamed herself hoarse and been sent to her room, Lani would blame shock and momentary insanity on her throwing an entire apple pie at Hilary Langdon’s face. Dish included.


[Narrative. Backdated to the 25th.]

Whenever Emma thought she was done closing the door on her life’s woes, there was another door that she always seemed to leave ajar. She remembered that night like it was yesterday, sitting beside her attention-hungry sisters all eager to have Daddy’s millions. She remembered her father naming her as heiress to his fortune right before he began escorting men into her brother’s room. She watched helplessly as her brother, the only one she had actually loved, was hauled away. She remembered that first bite of the winter wind when she stormed out of her home after watching her father wipe the spit she spewed on his face. That was the last time she had saw her family, and in fact, she grew pleased by that with every passing year.

( Then about a month ago one of those doors came crashing down off its fucking hinges. )

[ open to Cordelia ]

TO: "Lani" <ubanu.lani@xaviers.edu>, "Simon" <ramsey.simon@xaviers.edu>, "Tatiana"<caban.tatiana@xaviers.edu>, "Rahne" <sinclair.rahne@xaviers.edu>, "Holden" <clarke.holden@xaviers.edu>, (anyone else who wants a friend-email!).
FROM: "Beau" <morgan.beau@xaviers.edu>
SUBJECT: ( Holidays )

As it were, Emma’s time in the main city had now come to an end. She had very important duties to uphold while in New York City, Fifth Avenue most specifically, and having met with them already she had finally found herself wanting to return to the X-Mansion. It seemed that she was needed at the Xavier Institute for one reason or another. It would have been foolish for her to ignore her role there or, more importantly, her intuition. As such, she telepathically hailed a taxi and demanded that the driver take her far from New York City, up the many hills and into Westchester County.

( On the ride she had been enveloped within her thoughts. )

[ Narrative ]

Last week Pete finally got his hands on Brian’s magical necklace long enough to have M-13 analyze it, and as usual he was pissed and impatient about hearing back, regardless of whether they’d even tell him the full truth. So he was happy to finally meet up with Alistaire Stuart to find out what it was and what their next step should be now that Brian was on the teams, managing his powers and growing in strength – while being visited by interdimensional wizards and being told by demon-fighting children that his soul was special. It was about time for some answers.

But the news wasn’t what he was expecting and certainly nothing he was happy about. Stuart informed Pete that this turn of events was getting above his paygrade, and he’d be assigning a new spy from W.H.O. to take over. It wasn’t just about keeping close to and safeguarding Brian Braddock anymore, it was venturing into a more complicated capacity, and M-13 thought Pete was simply no longer the most qualified for the job. Someone who knew about mysticism and mythology and prophecies should do it. There wasn’t much Pete could say in the way or arguing that; he had no idea what the hell was going on most of the time anymore. The last time he had a leg up in this scenario was when his mirror self told him about Britanic’s powers working on confidence, which was helpful but apparently not enough.

And even though Pete had spent years wondering when he’d get back to what he was really good at, what he’d been doing since he was no older than some of the kids around this place – espionage, fighting, new identities, secret missions – now that he was faced with ending this, he found himself unmoved by the prospect. But it was also necessary. He was getting older, he’d been out of the game too long, and if he hoped to ever go back with any sort of glory, without being in over his head and working with kids half his age, now would be the time. Though, he had to admit, he’d been missing that old life slightly less since they joined X-Factor and he could really get out there and go toe to toe with new foes and challenges on a regular basis, at the sides of men he lied to daily but was slowly coming to trust.

It wouldn’t happen rapidly. They’d come up with some ruse to get someone new in Brian’s life via Xavier’s. Pete would stay on some appropriate number of months helping to ensure that Brian bonded with and trusted this new guard. And then they’d find a clever exit strategy for Pete. He hadn't faked his own death in awhile. And that would be that; perhaps with some Brian consultations from time to time as needed.

It didn’t even take Pete a full day to realize the plot was bollocks. No one could step in and be what he was to the Braddocks. No one else was going to be taking his best friend out for drinks and scrutinizing his women and making sure robots or demons or villains or aliens weren’t about to take his life. No one could get into Brian’s head to know him in ways the blond didn’t even know himself. Even if it were possible, it just wasn’t right.

The problem with M-13 is that they’d also managed to forget who they were dealing with; coming from a slightly shadier past than what they were used to, Wisdom wasn’t the sort to put up with much when it came to his own particular interpretation of morality and ethics. It earned him such verbiage as ‘risky bet’ and ‘loose cannon’ in the past. But that was the past, and he’d been such a good little by-the-book yes-man since taking the Brian Assignment it seemed like they’d forgotten. Though Pete wasn’t quite ready to burn bridges and turn teams for X-Men and their save-the-world, children-are-our-future mutant ideologies quite yet, God no, he simply wasn’t without options here. So he’d just have to force their hand and remind them exactly who they were dealing with.

It was time. He would risk his reputation, his friendship and the future of his career. Even if it all went well, he’d be committing himself here for the next several years and losing any chance of heading back out into the field. He’d just have this one assignment on his plate until the day came when Stuart would forgive him and ring him up -- or keel over -- whichever was more likely to happen first for Pete to earn a more mature internal agency role. But at least it would mean no more substitute teaching? And wherever it might take him, he’d stay beside Brian Braddock.

[narrative]

The lingering days of winter always seemed to have a way of making things calm a little and slow down. There wasn’t the urgency of summer ones that seemed to fly by without you even noticing. Or the noticeable transitions of time or seasons or weather that took up the spring and fall hours and left you to wondering when the leaves started changing or the flowers started blooming. By this time of year things were consistent and everything seemed fine to just roll along at a leisurely pace. Or maybe it was just the cold making everyone and everything a little bit sluggish. Either way Aliyah wasn’t exactly a person who got too caught up in the hustle and bustle of many things and enjoyed the laid-back peace and quiet just fine. Afternoons like this were sort of perfect in her opinion- classes done for the week and a whole weekend in front of you to do absolutely whatever. They were most often when urge to just draw or paint or do or make something random hit her.

The impulse today ended up with her at one of the picturesque windows around the school, using the large ledge for a makeshift window seat. There was just enough room to completely stretch out her legs, one foot lightly tapping the edge of the sill in time to the music flowing from her ipod to her ears. Next to her were a handful of balloons, a random assortment she’d grabbed on the way out of her room. Littering the floor below were a few already discarded creations, things you both would and wouldn’t expect to see made out of latex like a dog, a flower, and a rather impressive spider. Scanning the pile for specific colors, Aliyah took up the small balloon pump that had been resting in her lap and started blowing up a few that once tied off quickly began to take the shape of a simple Christmas wreath. Tis the season and all. Aliyah didn’t really have a specific reason for busting out her balloon making skills today. Really it essentially amounted to being a relaxing and randomly creative enough thing to do on an afternoon when she didn’t have anything else occupying her time.

[Open]