Nate Henderson || Remy LeBeau (ragincajun) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2014-08-11 23:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | alec rey-morgan, frankie discombe, kylie kensington, nate henderson |
WHO: Nate (And other X-Men if they want to get in on the destruction)
WHEN: Immediately following this broadcast.
WHERE: Nate's room at the mansion.
WHAT: Nate's reacting very strongly to his father being involved in...anything, really.
WARNINGS: Cursing. Violence against inanimate objects. Lots of anger.
Nate wasn't sure what made him tune into the broadcast in the first place. He'd never been much of a tv guy, and certainly not somebody who watched news programs that did interviews with scientists. Normally he spent his time planning his next robbery, or making up Danger Room time to get Frankie off of his back. Occasionally he even wandered into card games to gamble a little, letting Remy take over to win the money while he sat back and reaped the benefits. Sometimes there were good things to being the reincarnate of a man raised by a thieves guild, and when he got in trouble with the people he ripped off? Well, there were powers for that. He was getting quite good at fighting and using his abilities, and he'd always been good at running.
He'd been idly flicking through when the headline about the possible 'Reincarnate Cure' caught his attention. The perplexed mutant sat up on his bed, instantly leaning forward to read it better. He could feel Remy's unease mixing with his own, a horrible plunging iciness all down his spine. As a mutant, the X-Men were no strangers to some of what had been happening politically lately. The virus was uncomfortably familiar to the Legacy Virus, and now, this cure? Nate frowned, turning up the volume so that he could hear every word.
Who he saw wasn't what he expected, and Nate nearly fell sideways off of his bed in shock. It felt like just yesterday that he was attending his friend's memorial, dressed to the nines in an uncomfortable black suit and trying not to stare at all of the sobbing people surrounding him. Now he was staring at a television screen with eyes that refused to blink, trying to put together puzzle pieces in his brain that didn't want to fit. The man on the screen was absolutely Nik, and even the name label under him read Nik Peterson. In Caitlin's room next door he heard a crashing noise like the sound of glass breaking; his assumption was that she had come across the same broadcast as him.
"What in the hell...?" Nate questioned nobody in particular, leaning forward some more so that his hands pressed against the board at the foot of his bed. And then his father showed up on the screen, all white coat and smug look, and before Nate realized what he was doing the wood of his bed board was being charged up to an intense glowing red. He should have known. His father brought everything awful into his life, why would this be any different? By the time the program ended, Nate's knuckles were white from his tight grip, his fingers' joints sore from the pressure. He barely had time to register what he'd done and jump out of the way before the bed exploded with a force that blew out his windows and sent splinters flying in every direction. The mansion rocked with the explosion like an earthquake, but luckily the damage was limited to Nathaniel's room only; they had had the foresight of reinforcing his walls for this very reason.
He heard chattering of others from his team coming closer to his room, undoubtedly curious about the explosion and overexcited by the prospect of a reincarnate cure. Quickly as he could, Nate disappeared out of his broken window; talking with anybody else wasn't exactly what he wanted to be doing.