Age of Marvels (Mod Journal) (modsofmarvels) wrote in ageofmarvels, @ 2016-02-12 07:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | arsenic, black widow, box, captain marvel, hawkeye (clint), hawkeye (kate), magneto, meltdown, miss america, phoenix, pyro, rescue, rogue, she-hulk, the hulk (amadeus), tigra, winter soldier |
Narrative: The End is the Beginning
Characters: Charles Xavier (Open to reactions)
NPCs: A crowd of supporters
Location: NY State Capitol building
Timeline: February 12, 2016 - afternoon
Description: A moment that will echo through history—Charles Xavier is shot and killed.
Rating: PG-13
A sizable crowd had packed into the venue, and even more stood outside, bundled up in the cold, simply wanting to be part of the movement and the moment. The New York State Gene-Equality Act was no surefire thing, but it had impassioned supporters, many of whom had turned out today to hear from one of the bill's most vocal advocates. Most had come to the rally anxious, wanting to feel the swell of support from other like-minded individuals, wanting to believe that they could achieve what only fourteen states before had achieved. They wanted to believe that Charles Xavier was right. The event had attracted detractors, of course, as all political events were wont to do, but security had been increased in preparation for the occasion. Protesters were kept a distance away, their signs and chants having to speak for them where direct confrontation could not. Inside the venue, a small stage had been set up. The rally was being streamed over the internet, played on TV up and down the east coast, and a lot of it had to do with the main speaker. Charles Xavier was a man who had spent his whole life trying to help human beings understand the X-gene mutation and the plight of mutants in the United States as well as abroad. He had made one of the first safe havens for mutantkind in the country, and more recently, he had been helping to bolster support for laws that might one day make all of the country safe for mutants. There were murmurings that he might someday hold office in the halls of the state capitol or even the White House. For all his accomplishments, Xavier felt that the passing of this law would be the one closest to his heart. New York State was, after all, home to his successful school for mutants, the place where he had been able to save so many young lives from turning down dark and dangerous paths. This law would be one step more to ensuring the safety of his Xavier School family. It was also his home. It would be a big moment for them all. He brought some of his former students along to stand beside him. As he was being introduced and invited to the podium, he felt a supportive hand come to rest on his arm. He didn't need to turn around to know that it was Jean, a telepath (like him) who had grown up in New York, attended his school and was now working there herself. She was one of his success stories, and he was reminded that today was for all of his children—past, present and future. His chair glided to the podium, his movements underscored by the sound of applause from the crowd. The hope in the room was nearly dizzying. He could feel it wrapping its warmth around his mind, steeling his resolve, making the words that much easier to say. He raised a hand to quiet the crowd. "Hello, my friends. My neighbors. My name is Charles Xavier. I am a New Yorker, and I am a mutant." The cheers resurged for a moment before those in attendance quieted again. "We are here today in a sign of solidarity with members of the state's legislature who support the Gene-Equality Act—a law that will finally solidify the rights of all of New York's citizens, including those with unique gifts or unusual abilities. We are reminded today that few among those gifted with an x-gene ever wished for or dreamed of such gifts, few anticipated the unique emotional or medical challenges that they bring, and none deserve to be treated less than they are—full citizens and residents of this great state. "We have seen time and again, people on the wrong side of history—human beings discriminated against because of the color of their skin or gender or who they love. We've seen too the anger and violence that has occurred in the wake of oppression. The loss of life. The senseless violence. Putting an end to this cycle of injustice doesn't happen overnight. It begins with small steps, taken together, to move fo—" He quieted suddenly, his head careening backwards at an awkward angle. For a moment, no one quite knew how to react to the spray of blood against the banners and supporters behind him, but it was only half a second before someone in the crowd saw blood seeping down his face and screamed. That's when all Hell broke loose. The crowd stampeded, running over each other to reach the exits in a frenzied panic. Some of the media were trying to get closer to the podium for a better vantage point. Bodies colliding into bodies as confusion and terror grasped the hearts and minds of nearly all in attendance. No one had heard a shot fired, but those on stage with Charles Xavier could see the larger exit wound at the back of his skull. His body had slumped to the side, unmoving. A pool of blood grew with each passing second next to the chair that held their murdered torchbearer. Jean Grey was the first to reach him, examining the horrific wound before wrapping her arms carefully around him, placing her head against his and closing her eyes in the hopes of finding some small sign of life in his mind. You're alive. You're alive. He had thought those words to her once upon a time and brought her back from the brink of death, but in this moment, her thoughts were useless. She couldn't bring back what was already gone... |