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[28 Sep 2008|03:00am] |
Mr Sinister - Mrs Sinster - guests and the Marauders after the Aftermath.
Experimentation was the one thing that never came to a standstill, in the cold artificially lit bio dome. Though Sinister paid no heed, for the air temperature, and the need to keep it low had its purpose, but it had to be kept at a recurring temperature continually. The beautifully, nasty little virus he had made active, could not exist in the air at this temperature, not that it had as of yet transgressed and mutated. Now that truly annoyed the scientist, it annoyed him no end. The fact that most of the population of the entire planet had been effected by his little experiment, did not seem to matter in the slightest too him. It was at the moment, appearing to be just another failure in a long line of failures. Apocalypse was still in hiding, which did little to truly appease his mood, but he knew that it was time, time for the self named ‘living god’ to awaken to once more walk about and he was relying on the damn virus to be airborne by then. Egypt, had been the first country where the virus had taken a hold, justifiable in Sinister’s mind, and as all authorities were all too eager to denounce the infection from starting in their country, all had been mislead, and allowed to believe that it had drifted out of central Africa. Unexplainable diseases, it would seem, because explainable to those studying them, when they could blame their existence in a third world country.
The dome, where they were situated, was high in the Rocky mountains, warmer than the temperature outside, but still kept regulated. They had power, for he had made sure of such, biological engineered and re-engineered on a gene splicing machine, mutants, that had no brains yet abilities were being used as conduits to power up all the strange and other worldly contraptions. A touch of Victoriana, with a science beyond what was capable of most apart from maybe Beast and Forge in the world before it became this twisted experiment that he, watched on many monitors. Long elegant fingers, swept gracefully over control panels, fingers of a surgeon, of a pianist, neck craned to look in yet another monitor, as a smug smile grew over his lips. “Lenneth, switch to monitor BH-02 and cross screen it with XM-03, I do believe my darling the idiots have both came to the same conclusion.” It was like a macabre reality television show, for they had eyes of sorts all over the city, bugs, mechanical, clock work, bugs, that flew and followed and got into places all those survivors thought were impenetrable.
Nothing happened anywhere on the entire globe, that they could not watch, he would not allow their other ‘guests’ to view such until his wife had first, so that she may see fit to allow them to view what she saw beneficial. He trusted her judgement and he cared very little if at all about any others. The feed was always alive though, it never faltered, so as he switched and flicked things on, the data that he wished her to view was being sent directly to her own personal monitors, rather than to those that were wired into the whole for all too view. He did however feel some kind of pride that among those surviving, their little girl was out there doing what he wanted her to do. Though of course he managed to avoid the notion that Wolverine had anything to do with such, or that the pair of them worked as a unit, he would attempt in due time to change that. To see if she would annihilate that revolting creature as she had the one that had taught her to become what she needed to be.
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