Re: The Coming of Darkness
::: It SO not suits ya! :::
As an alpha level mutant, Rouge is a powerhouse in her own right. With sonic flight and superstrength that would alow her to crush a man's head in her hands, the southern belle is not a foe with which to be trifled.
Any other man that had the ballistic missile with the skunk stripe hertaling at him in the fasion would be as some would say, 'fresh out of luck'. The dark lord Kayel, on the other hand, had other plans, as he was known for making his own luck as he stood, motionless, watching Rouge's charging advance. his face completly hidden behind his expressionless skull helm. It was also important to note...Lord Kayel is no longer -just- a man.
With a speed that could only be only perceived as a blur of motion, Lord Kayel's comparatively massive hands grasp Rouge's wrists and with a turning motion that utilizes her already incredible momentum, slams her into the force field behind him with a loud report that shakes the entire room with the incredible force of the impact.
Kayel then leveled a thunderous punch to her midsection that was followed by another. Then another. Then another. Each blow had an impact the rough equivalent to a bus loaded with nitro, traveling at 180 mph into her gut. The dark lord's cloak fluttered with each blow as the incredible force of his punches rocked the body of the possesed mutant, her arms flailing about with the demon lord's brutal assult like some sick rag doll.
A massive shoulder thrust into her center mass brings forth a gurgle from the southern belle and the satisfying sound of crushed ribs to the dark lord's ears. Grabbing a handful of her shirt, or what's left of it, Lord Kayel flings her nearly limp form into the ceiling, only to 'catch' her on the way down with another ruinous, steel hard fist to the stomach. Then with a surge of viciousness, the demon lord slams her to the ground, grinding his fist into her already damaged midsection.
For a moment it looked as though the demon lord's brutal assault was over as he slowly stood and walked back toward Willow and her new pet that seemed to be about to leave. In reality, the Lord of the army of the Profound Darkness had only just begun, as he suddenly reached down to the prone mutant's ankle and clasped he entire hand around it. All at once, it seemed that very shadows surrounding the dark lord deepened to an unnatural darkness. It was more than clear to any mystically inclined individual that Lord Kayel was tapping into the very essence of the Profound Darkness itself.
With the ease of lifting paper, Lord Kayel slung the souther belle into the sides, top and bottom of the room they inhabited, pushing the force shield he had previously erected to it's limits. Finally, he slammed the worn woman into the floor just in front of the vampiress so that she may witness up close the suffering he inflitced upon the object of her hatred.
"Witness her agony and know that I give her pain to you. As a gift."
The dark lord knew how to treat his minions. potential or otherwise....
The Essence of Pain and Power
As Kayel stepped out of the shielded area, the possessed Storm saw her chance as come. Despite the lack of opportunities to attack while the Dark Lord had been inside the protected area with Rogue, the weather controlling mutant had gathered her powers, waiting.
It was a frighening sight, indeed, for although Ororo stood motionless, her hair was pulled back by strong winds that arose when Kayel came back in sight. Thunder was rolling, lightning was striking and as her formerly at the ceiling staring head was lowered, her face opposing that of the Lord's, it became obvious why she had once been known as a Goddess. The glow of her eyes even stronger, a bluish-white hue illuminating her form that was crackling of pure electricity, Storm raised a hand, gracefully in an almost tender manner... and the windows shattered as hail of unknown violence - appearing out of nowhere - was spit out by a sky tinted black.
Over the recklessly raging nature's hymn, the voice of the possessed weather witch sounded effortlessly, as if storm and hail stopped everytime she prounounced a word. This resonating voice of hers, warm yet cold, calm but enraged, had a tone that could have been considered mocking and the self-assured smile that played around her lips only added up to that impression. There was no need to pay attention to what her powers were causing outside, neither did she know nor care whether and whom she hurt for all that counted was victory.
"We shall see whether you can withstand nature's might itself, creature!"
A condescending laughter sounded from her which showed well enough that as far as she was concerned, the answer to that question was simple and to her advantage. This was freedom, the freedom her very soul had longed for and had only been granted rarely like back then in the Savage Land. The one manipulated by the Witch King then knew it for certain.
"I am the Goddess of the Elements. Nothing shall stand in my way and survive this blasphemy unharmed. Feel the Power of Heaven itself,"
For a moment, silence reigned which was then interrupted by one single snap of her fingers. And through the glassless window Heaven's Punishment was executed in the form of lightning stronger than any that had ever hit a living being before. It was just thanks to Storm's absolute control that Kayel was the only one inside the room that got in direct contact with its effects for the Wraith knew its master would have been... upset if any of his minions or possibly he himself would have been affected.
Nevertheless, an unpleasant feeling bordering physical pain was inflicted on everyone but Ororo whose non-humanly glowing gaze was fixed onto Lord Kayel. A smirk crept onto the possessed mutant's face as she even enstrengthened the seemingly never-ending discharge that - contrary to natural lightning - continued for seconds with destructive force. It was his reaction she was waiting for eagerly.
"You shall understand the true meaning of agony,"
she whispered longing to see him writhe. Unnoticed by the power-crazed Wraith, the real Ororo had awoken. Although there was not much she could do, her fury upon seeing her friend harmed to such an extend increased the attack's might while she even managed to shield the apparently unconscious Rogue. Getting rid of the possessor was subordinate... vengence had top priority. A man by the name of McCoy would have diagnosed this phenomenon as mutual subconscious influence between Storm and the Witch King's minion.
The word "pain" and its connotations - as varied as they may be - did anything but suffice for what the mutant known as Rogue and thus the Wraith that possessed her was going through. In fact, even "agony" was an understatement as she lay motionless on the floor, not daring to move to avoid to inflict even more suffering to her battered body... in fact not even being able to.
To ease this unknown, unwanted, almost unbearable feeling, the demon inside the southern belle loosened the grip around Rogue's mind and thus the connection to her physical form, thinking the abused woman would be too weak to struggle against it anyway. And for the moment, it was right. Slowly, as if even this was a difficult act, the X-Woman let her mind wander, forcing it to explore her body and find out what had actually happened to her. It was a difficult task for how should one find out what was broken, split or in any other way damaged if one's whole existence, the only thing of importance - was paralyzing pain beyond measure?
After an undefined amount of time - seconds, minutes... hours? who would care - she was about certain that at least 5 ribs were broken, as was one arm. There was a weird feeling in her stomach as well and something was wrong with her legs. With undoubtable certainty she knew that if this nightmare of inability of controlling herself would not end soon... she would die.
As this thought came to her, in the very instant she and not the demon knew what was to come, yes, when she actually realized there had been a battle at all, it occurred to the one that was the real Rogue that there was another one ruling her body, letting her speak words that were not hers, letting her act in a way she never would. For everybody else save for - maybe - Matt, it would have seemed as if she was staring at the wall, her bruised body lying on the back while her head had rolled to the side. It was mere and lucky coincidence that this had happened for otherwise, the absorption mutant would have died choking of the blood that now ran out of her half-opened mouth.
Only if one watched her closely - weak breathing, a light moving of her chest - one could know that she was not dead... although neither her eyelids nor the eyes itself moved in any way. It was obvious that the Dark Lord was a master of torture, knowing exactly how much he could inflict on anyone to leave his victim only on the border to death without passing it too soon. However, when Storm let hell break loose, it seemed highly improbable anyone would pay attention to what Rogue looked like and thus recognize Kayel's masterly piece of "art".
Unaffected by what was going on outside her own suffering self, with the realization of being possessed, the struggle for freedom had begun. And the Wraith came to understand that even a weakened Rogue was none to be underestimated.
"I cannot understand why there was any thinking
about hurting bystanders.
There are things that need to be done and if lightning strikes those 'innocent'
people, well, none of my business!"
"Spike? Ya mean that tanless wannabe demon with
some kinda sick crush on meh?
Oh gee, ah was just playin'! Seriously, how could someone actually be
in love with that?!
Re: The Coming of Darkness
::: We shall see whether you can withstand nature's might itself, creature! :::
The large, methodical steps taken by the dark lord was proof positive that he was more than sure that this battle of wills was over. The Witch king's hold over his charges was waning. He, himself, looked like he was having problems maintaining control over his own power.
Very little stood in his way of obtaining not only his main goal in the form of the page form the Thousand Eyes Bible, but a new agent and 'distraction' in the form of the vampiric cousin of the young man he had every intention of slaying in a moment...
::: I am the Goddess of the Elements. Nothing shall stand in my way and survive this blasphemy unharmed. Feel the Power of Heaven itself! :::
Nothing, save for the Mistress of the winding storm herself. Arguably, the most powerful of the wraiths assembled here.
*This one has a certain fire to her as well. Impressive. Let us see if she has the power to fill her seemingly hollow words with action*
To the Stygian Beast's great surprise she did so with but a simple snap of her fingers.
Mere moments later, a deafening thunder clap heralded the onset of a massively powerful arc of lightning, the likes of which had not been seen by mortal eyes for millennia. And even then, not without the aid of a large-scale magic incantation.
The intense potency of the bolt awed the dark lord. The question of how could a being, a mortal at that, generate such force in mere moments that would take an entire cabal of mages a weeks of chanting and spellcraft with but a thought? As the bolt struck, that question was the last thing on his mind.
"Aaaaaahhhhggghh!!!!"
Obsidian armor exploded from the areas that the arc of blueish-white energy that ripped across the dark lord's chest with enough force to cause him to stagger backwards a few steps. The distinct odors of both ozone and charred flesh filled the senses of everyone in the room. Lord Kayel's massive form shuddered and convulsed with Storm's assault.
Suddenly, Lord Kayel's body ceased to shudder and he stood up strait in the face of the attack. It was in that moment that all in attendance could perceive the light in the room and especially around the dark lord dim once again.
The lord of despair took one strong, almost defiant step toward Storm. Then another. Then another seeming to push through the onslaught leveled at him. With an incredible and unbelievable burst of speed, Lord Kayel closed the gap between them, wrapping a gauntleted hand around the weather witch's throat and lifting her into the air.
"Hmmm...you must be the one called 'Storm'." Mused the dark lord as the tatters of his cloak and armor reform in a wisp of darkness.
" I have heard much about you. I wonder if your wraith inhabitant shares you dislike of enclosure?"
With what would be, comparatively, a flick of his wrist, Storm was thrown into the air toward a wall swiftly followed by a quick hand motion signifying yet another lightning fast spell.
"Vigor Circummunio"
Storm's midair flight is abruptly halted by a nigh-transparent shell of energy that encloses the weather witch within it's confines.
"Atrum Integumentum"
Another quickly cast spell fills the shell with an unnatural darkness that would obscure any and all sight in or out of the prison. A very effective 'small, dark space' for the claustrophobic mutant to amuse herself with.
"And now, 'Witch King'..." Bellowed the dark master of the Army of the Profound Darkness. "I have you to deal with. I believe you posses something I covet. I mean to have it....Now."
ooc: Dear Lord.. I have no idea what to put.. sever writers block.. even after all this time!
I'm feeling very lazy with this thread as well so.. that isn't helping ... I'll let you bring Aran and such into the thread Matt! ^^"
--------------
The very air itself came alive with Storm's impressive power, yet all this went mostly ignored by Willow, her weakened form cringing and curling tightly from the pain that screamed agonizingly within her. There was something wrong, something horribly, uncontrollably wrong, Matt was in trouble, her precious, loving cousin ...
"And now, 'Witch King'..." The promiscuous Wicca of the undead shifted slightly, soon rolling onto her stomach, the fresh taste of Arisa's now enchanted blood flowing through her veins. "I have you to deal with. I believe you posses something I covet. I mean to have it....Now." Was the great Lord going to kill her cousin? No! She wouldn't let ANYONE kill her cousin! Only she was allowed to kill him, and she didn't want to, not at this point in time anyway... sure there are moments she gets so jealous he didn't give her enough attention that she does imagine moments of destroying him, but she loves Matt too much to actually go through with ending his existance.
She wouldn't let Kayel harm her cousin, if anyone was going to hurt him, it was going to be her! He looked as if he was hurting, she'd take away his pain, her hypnotic charm radiated from her weak, tormented form, she spoke to him via their mind link, whispering soothing words of assurence, sounding far more stronger then she appeared. Just because she was weak in her body, didn't mean she was going to let her mind show that she was weak if she could help it. But before she could move, a bright burst of flames swirled behind Lord Kayel.
"My Lord, they come." It was not best that the X-men see Kayel's true face, Cole's dark eyes examined with slight amusement at the sight around him. Cole gave a mild wave of his right hand, summoning two other demans to collect Willow and take hold of the struggling Witch King. "I will bring to you what you seek." Cole assured the Dark Lord, as soon as got Matt and Willow out of here and back to Obsidian Tech he could destroy the 'Witch King' and thus gain access to the sacred item Kayel desires to obtain. With Kayel out of the way, his face hopefully still remaining a mystery to the X-men, as soon as the Witch Kings control over them breaks their memories will become fragmented and should help stop them from recognizing Kayel.
Cole glanced up at Storm's enclosure, then turned around and walked over towards the red couch, comfortably sitting down as Kayel's spell wore off and watching with great delight as Storm is freed. The Part demon seemed highly relaxed considering he was surrounded by so many enemies. but he knew things were only going to shift off him soon enough, he was just here to watch the entertainment. Besides, if anyone tried to attack him he could just shimmer off, he hardly considered these people a threat, some of them hadn't even fought!
Cole: I think you're confused.. you seem to think you have the upper hand
Taylor Andrews
Team : Gold Strike Force Co-Team : X-Treme
Iceman
Bobby Drake
Team : Red Strike Force
Shinzon
Scimitar Commander
Matthew Rosenberg
Eldest of the Rosenbergs
Lady Death Strike
A Clawed Huntress
Posts: 254
(6/21/04 3:49 pm)
Re: The Essence of Pain and Power
Matt shuddered greatly as he watched through squinted eyes at what happened, his abilities to hold the Witchking and use his strengths to empower himself had failed, he had overstepped the mark when releasing this menace, encouraged by his vampire cousin so they could be strong. And now where was she when he was most at need, her small form following Kayel like some sick puppy while her only ally in this realm, this dimension was fighting to keep his form without the demon presence inside him tearing him apart.
The once powerful sorcerer looked up to see Kayel enclose and rid himself of another of the mutants he had called to be his protectorates; he had overestimated their abilities and underestimated Kayel’s. If only he had been able to harness the power of his demon symbiot. As Matt fell to the ground he saw as Belthazor, Kayel’s trusted right hand man, appeared before his lord as his adversary’s words filled his mind, fighting those of the put downs and condemnation that his symbiot was now spewing into his fuzzy blurry mind.
"And now, 'Witch King'...I have you to deal with. I believe you posses something I covet. I mean to have it....Now."
Matt felt two pairs of arms grab him from either side and the forms of two more demons had hoisted him up so he was now facing the enemy who was easily pushing through his defenses. Fear began to filter through his being, he hadn’t felt anything like this since the Witchking had taken his form, he was coming back, the Witchking was doing as he said, pushing from Matt’s body so that he would escape before he was lost within Matt’s body.
: --> :Pathetic human, you have weakened me and lost me what gave me my strength, the page will no longer be mine, and I can only hope that I will be reborn again. I leave your puny undeserving form to the fate it deserves, to allow you to live would be an atrocity to this whole realm:: The words came from Matt’s mouth but in a voice that was nothing like his own and it was not directed at Kayel or anyone else at this point, it was as if he was talking to himself, Matt’s eyes rolled up as if into the back of his head and his whole body seemed to shake as the demon servants held him from the ground. The dark eyes fell back down at Kayel and one last things spoke in the unfitting voice : --> :Kayel, you are strong:: With that Matt’s arms swung out from his side and his eyes rolled up once again, the demons struggled to keep hold of his form as his mouth opened wide at with an ear piercing roar that poured from him and a dark, almost black wisp of something almost cloud-like poured from his now blue glowing body retreating into the air and into the darkness above them.
The armour that had covered his form began to fall off, the heavy clank to the metal filling the fighting room as it hit the hard floor, and as soon as it touch the floor it seemed to melt away. As the last chunks of armour that protected his body fell away the blue glow left him, his now almost naked body slumped into the holding arms of Kayel’s servants, and the trait Rosenberg green/brown eyes rolled back into their sockets and before they fell on the now larger and imposing form of Kayel they met with Willow’s, a slight plea within them hoping that she can be there for him in his now time of weakness as he had been form her.
But before he could say anything one of the demons holding him grabbed his cheeks and made him look upon Kayel, the fear obvious within his eyes as it pulsed through his soul, why had he thought he could take the dark lord from his throne. His lack of clothing a symbol that he had been left now vulnerable to take what punishment the dark lord would bestow upon him for putting his faith in an ancient spirit that had escaped when he saw he was loosing.
Re: The Coming of Darkness
The chase didn't last for long, in fact Aurora had just soared up to hopefully spot Aran - or whoever he was - to see him stop not far away in front of a rather old but well-kept building. Faintly, the ebony-haired girl thought to remember this complex to be called Renaissance Hotel which - considering the circumstances - was an all too suiting name.
From her elevated position, a blurred form quickly drawing a line from the Baracas to that hotel could be seen, one that turned out to be her vampiric friend's. His speed, indeed, had dramatically increased and not for the first time Garnet wondered whether this really was a side effect of his regained soul.
There was no time of thinking needed to know there were matters of highers importance at the moment and like a shooting star, the mutant speeded towards where her possessed friend was - apparently - waiting for her. As soon as she touched the ground, she started to speak, a confused, scared tone in her voice, wearing a similar expression.
"Aran, what is it?"
A silly question - she realized that the moment she heard herself speak - but then again what question would not have appeared strange in such an unreal situation? Still, a part of her kept struggling against the truth while another embraced it with open arms. If what she had seen in front of the club had been done by someone, something possessing the greening mutant, it hadn't been his fault... and everything could be like it had been again, couldn't it?
(OOC: sorry, no time to go on at the mo. also, I'm not sure whether a) Kayel is gone and b) the Wraiths have left the X-Men now.... ?
To finish this thread soon, I propose a sudden end. Like all those people arriving and everything's already over, Storm, Arisa and the rest are already "unpossessed" and Cole vanishes just in time so that everybody could have a glimpse on him to think he had been behind it all.)
"Everybody deserves a second chance. Past mistakes must not be forgotten... yet forgiveness is an option that should be taken into consideration.
If there is someone who knows how much a person can change it is I."
Maybe the best thing I could do for you Is leave you in Peace
Posts: 607
(6/24/04 11:52 pm)
Re: The Coming of Darkness
ooc: I'd say once the WitchKing thingy left Matt's body then the Wraiths woulda started growing weak, which will help the X-men coax the possessed ones to fight off the wraiths..
----------------
Spike hadn't run this fast since... ever! It was amazing, as if he was flying, it took a moment to actually remember he now did possess the ability to fly, all this advanceed abilities where slightly frightening since he didn't want to be any stronger incase he ever lost control again. With his highened visial senses it helped him greatly with his speed since he was able to see so far ahead. Garnet was standing outside the hotel, Spike didn't want to stop for a chit-chat, it infuriated him that she was standing around instead of bursting with flames and devistating all those who dared turn Rogue against him and steal those others away.
Diving into the air, the vampire's body smashed effortlessly through one of the windows, the glass still shattering to the hard floor by the time Spike's body was rushing up the wall opposite of Cole, who had instantly thrown a ball of fire towards the sound of the disturbance. When another ball of fire was thrown towards the ceiling, Spike dropped down quickly, flipping his body about so that his back was no longer facing the ground, turning about so that his feet hit the ground and his body landed in a crouched position, his left palm resting on the ground to help soften the impact.
Having shifted into his demonic form while falling, Spike's now golden eyes glared over towards Cole who was standing up now, but looked more relaxed as he realized it was only Spike. With an amused smirk Cole watched as the vampire's fangs were slowly bared in a threatening manner while a deep riverting sound resonated in the very pit of the undead creatures throat. Cole shimmered off however, which confused the vampire as he slowly stood up, looking about cautiously before spotting Rogue's battered form and running over to her.
"Ro'!" Dropping to his knees beside her, his body sliding a little along the ground and coming to a stand-still right beside the beaten wreck she had become after her short fight with Kayel. It was amazing, missiles don't leave a scratch on her yet she looked terrible! "Hold on luv," The loving whisper was uttered quietly as his fingers traced along her cheek and jaw line very gently. His body was however jerked back as an arm wrapped about his neck and pulled him up to his feet, almost completely lifting him off the ground as the vampires toes attempted to keep contact with the ground.
"Spike, Spike, Spike.. what will I ever do with you, you're proving to be rather bothersome, I think it might be best if we send you back to where you belong." Spike caughed slightly as he struggled, "I'm sure the residents of Lost Angels are missing their demonic conquerer by now." With a growl Spike tried slamming his elbow back against the side of Cole's face. The brutal impact caused Cole to drop Spike but he didn't even recive a bruise from the powerful blow, Spike blinked slightly, remember how easily Cole had subdued him back in the Initiative's cell. With impressive speed even for Spike, Cole's hand back slapped the vampire clear across the face, the skin in the corner of his lips cutting agaisnst his fanged teeth and trickling blood down the corner of his mouth moments after.
The fact it was a slap in the face was... it was.. humiliating.. but Spike didn't stand down, Cole could beat him silly, but he wasn't leaving Rogue's side. Fair enough he could be thrown clear across the room, but he'd just run back to this spot! Wiping away the thin trail of blood in the edge of his mouth with the back of his right hand, Spike licked his lips slightly to remove any further mark.
Moments later Jean and Kurt with the group of others who had joined them in their mission to rescue their mission companions appeared in the great hall of the infamous hotel, well known to the demonic underworld since Angel and this worlds Spike did a lot of demon hunting and this was their headquaters until it was possessed by these dark forces.
"Cole!" The tall demonic entity turned to look over his shoulder and towards Jean and her group, he offered another smirk before shimmering off with a fiery aura engulfing his body. Spike placed a hand on his cheek for a moment before remembering Rogue and dropping back to the floor after turning to face her.
"Ro', the others are here now, I'm goin' t'take you back to the Institute... you'll be okay luv." While he tried to assure his lover of her saftey, Connor was glancing about for Arisa, his heart sinking when he found that she was there, Matt and Willow where taken away instantly as the demons teleported after Cole.
"..Lachlan." Connor almost snarled the name when he saw the boy, but was distracted with Tessa, his thoughts leaving Madison's ex-boyfriend. "Tessa! Are you alright?" She had talked to him earlier that year when he had been really down, she had always been so kind and gentle with people, how could anyone try and hurt her like this?
"Storm!" Jean looked towards her best friend, the white weather witch didn't look at all well, the Phoenix hurried over to her long time friend, unaware they were all still possessed by the wraiths, even if their grip on their victims where deminishing rapidly.
Re: The Coming of Darkness
Darkness, immobility, deafened sounds - a nightmare for Ororo Munroe, seemingly almighty weather goddess. One weakness, at least, was very well-known and strongly existent: claustrophobia. The mutant's iron will had - over the past years - somehow managed to build up a protective shield against this fear of being trapped, of walls closing behind her like back in her childhood when a house collapsed above her traumatizing the young girl she had been. However, it remained what it was: a means controlled by mere will, a will that was strongly restricted by the demonic creature possessing Storm's mind and thus unknowingly blocked the only chance of not suffering from what the Dark Lord inflicted onto the weather witch.
Kayel's cruel experiment showed clearly how close the connection between those two minds actually was for in the very instant the magical wall darkened, panic arose within the Wraith. Like Storm, it reacted instinctively, employing the goddess' amazing powers in an attempt to destroy whatever was caging it. The sky outside which had cleared up whilst a moment of shock began to darken again, a hurricane-like wind accompanied by pouring rain arose and unseen by anyone, inside those magical walls, pure electrical energy attempted to force the walls apart. And failed. Oh yes, nature's might sure is impressive and powerful beyond measure... but so is infernal magic woven by one of the most powerful beings ever existent.
Suddenly, without any warning, the spell ended though. Caught by surprise, the raging ended the second light hit the mutant's eyes again for although cursed with the same weakness, the Wraith had the advantage of being able to recover much faster than the original Storm who would have been difficult to calm for minutes exposed to this her greatest fear unprotected. With a dull sound, she fell to the ground and jumped up only a second later. Yet the expression the possessed mutant wore was a confused one. What had just happened?
It was when Kayel's magic wore off that Kane appeared on the scene, accompanying Nightcrawler and the rest of this rather unusual rescue team. In fact, they had not known what exactly they were to expect - most of what they had heard stemmed from guesses and were thus rather vague. Having been worried over the GSF leader's whereabouts, the usually rather anti-social mutant known as Tempest had instantly agreed in coming along, hoping to be at least of little help to bring the older weather controlling mutant back.
It was strange. The fact that she had promised Kane to help him control his powers better aside, they hadn't had much contact, barely any to be precise, still there was a connection he felt. Or thought to feel. In fact he doubted it was a real feeling and tended to blame it on this drugged state he had willingly turned himself in to silence his gift so he wasn't of any danger for those around him - what had happened back at Lost Angels and the following events had scared him too much to take the risk of letting them break through outside the Danger Room.
Now, that he was facing Storm, he hesitated a moment, stopping in his pace simply looking at her who seemed thoroughly puzzled about something. What was he actually supposed or even able to do? In those few seconds of thought, a change occurred to Ororo who - suddenly - began to shout incoherently. Electricity crackled around her and it seemed as if she was talking to herself.
The real Storm who had been waiting patiently saw her chance as come when the Wraith was too distracted by what had just happened to it to keep the control over her mind up with full strength. Like a crowbar of pure will, Ororo attacked the cage the demon had forced her mind into, struggling to open a hole in those imaginary bars that rid her of the control over her own body.
"Your attempts are ridiculous, do you really believe you can defeat me, little mutant?"
Though coming out of her own mouth, those words were spoken by another. The voice was her own, yet the tone resembled nothing one had ever heard from the real Storm. There were hatred and loathing, arrogance and a self-certainty even higher than that of the weather witch herself.
Through clenched teeth, Ororo's reply came - the Wraith trying to stop her from speaking but obviously failing.
"I am just inches away from doing just that. Goddess knows, your power over me is fading"
The struggle went on as did the argument which - to any unknowing witness - Storm seemed to have with herself.
Meanwhile, Kane was watching. His slightly clouded mind - although the effect of the drugs began to wear off - focused on Storm's form and as he realized what it was he was witnessing, he felt the sudden urge to run to this woman, tell her to fight and stay strong, to defeat whatever was holding her captive and become herself again. To return home.
"Home?"
Realizing what he had just thought, Kane repeated the word quietly, a surprised whisper spoken with the large and curious eyes of a child. A sudden flash of memory hit him showing the image of what he thought to recall to be his parents... yet their faces were blank and as the picture faded, the large blue man that haunted his dreams appeared. Normally, the dream would end when He showed up but this time - since it was no dream, nothing he could wake up from, but something close to drug-induced vision - it went on. A proud expression seemed to be displayed on this strange man's face who caused such terror to rise inside the young man. A glass wall or some sort was between them but strangely enough, this just added up to the fear. He was trapped and - as he realized looking down at himself, still in this bizarre state between being awake and dreaming, seeing - naked, fully covered in a transparent liquid that he appeared to be able to breathe in.
The blue guy's face, his whole form, was a caricature of nature's creation, a half-hearted attempt of appearing human but still obviously wanting to emphasize the difference, maybe the superiority over that race. The one whose name he still didn't know disappeared out of sight but as Kane expected a fade-out of some sort, he stood corrected. Another man, less impressive but still somehow scary from a child's perspective which he suddenly realized it was, appeared and as if his face had triggered something, the scene changed just a little. The stranger was close to Kane now, looking inside whatever he was in with a mocking look on his face. He held a picture against the glass, grinning broadly, evilly with such a loathing in his eyes, Tempest could almost feel it physically.
"Beautiful bitch, ya mother, ain't she? Gonna be da one who's gonna find out if she's dat pretty from da inside as we-.."
Kane was not listening at all. His eyes were glued onto the picture which erased everything he thought to remember of his "parents". Back then, something had stopped him from realizing what was going on around him - maybe it had been altered afterwards, he did not know... but now, now that something else made him remember, he saw.
"Mother,"
the whisper was as silent as the previous one and as the vision faded and tears hindered his view, he knew. The family he had been longing for, it had been so close - if only for the past months. As his eyes met Storm's, he saw the fire of a fighting spirit burning inside and so many similarities, he couldn't understand he hadn't thought of it before. This wasn't the time to tell her though, not it wasn't. She surely wasn't aware of it as well and now that she was struggling against her possessor, distraction could mean defeat. For him, it was a comforting knowledge though... comforting... confusing... frightening.
What did all of this mean?
Who was the blue man?
Why did his own mother not recognize him?
Where and what was this glass thing he always was in in those strange but apparently real memories?
Why was a part of what he thought to know obviously faked?
"Who am I?"
Nobody would have heard those words that left the mutant's lips and vanished as if never spoken. A question so essential. A question only one could answer.
And as Storm succeeded in forcing out the Wraith that had been possessing her, a victorious yell sounding from her as she focused her will to cast it away, Kane stood silent without moving.
- Fade Out for Storm and Tempest -
(OOC: If necessary, they can be NPC'ed outside and away)
"You thought you could use me like a puppet?
No, not me, not I!"
"Everytime I find the answer to one question, a dozen new pop up. It's like somebody plays games with me and my life!"
Re: The Coming of Darkness
Although lying with open eyes, Rogue did not see.
Although her body clearly touched the ground, Rogue did not feel.
Although not every bone was broken, not every muscle and sinew damaged, Rogue could not move.
All that was - was pain. Did that mean, everything that was not pain, did not exist? Like this thing that she had circled, crouching on all four like a wild animal would do with another that was predator and prey at the same time. She knew now that she had been used, yet this knowledge didn't help much in this state she was in. However, the Wraith was suffering with her. The agony weakened her, reduced her ability to think to a minimum... but the demonic spirit who needed all its strength left to keep the control over Rogue's mind was forced to loosen its grip as its powers began to wane with the Witch King's absence.
Although seeing nothing with her physical eyes, Rogue could see what there was in her mind.
Although feeling nothing outside her body, Rogue could feel something inside.
Although unable to move, Rogue could attack the Wraith.
All that was - was pain. Hence, the most powerful weapon she could employ, was just this pain tormenting her.. and beyond. It was amazing what strange thoughts occurred to the southern belle. As if her brain was a scrapbook somebody was thumbing through, fragments of plans, thoughts and emotions popped up and disappeared again, yet one remained and helped her to focus. Slowly, she could feel herself getting used to the pain. No, not used in the common sense, rather... numb. The human body and mind is only designed to bear so much before either collapsing or shutting out what made it suffer, yet in this case, neither worked.
However, suddenly Rogue could feel she was at least able to think a bit clearer which - still - didn't mean grasping a thought was easy. She could "see" the demon clinging to her mind like a sharp-teethed animal refusing to let go.
Suddenly, she thought to hear a voice.
A familiar voice.
A loved voice.
The rush of excitement and joy flowing through her gave her strength, strength she immediately directed into her attempts of fighting the Wraith. It very well realized the threat Spike was as it had done earlier. Actions were necessary, now!
"Ah told ya ah didn't wanna see ya again,"
Talking was difficult, yet since her face was not at all damaged, it was only blood dripping out of her mouth and the general weakness hindering. There was cruelty in the possessed mutant's voice, a lack of any positive emotion and a careless coldness that was supposed to show all too well how much Rogue did not care about the vampire.
The real Rogue, however, finally and for the first time heard the Wraith speaking. "It's lyin'!!!" The voiceless scream sounded unheard, not strong enough to leave the shell of her mind. She couldn't just lie there listening to this demon pretending there was no love inside her, no love for this man she felt ready to give her life for. Was there no way of regaining control? Was there no way of ending this nightmare?
"To the Institute? With you?!"
The word was spit out like something disgusting but while the possessed Rogue's face was a grimace of detest, there was something about her eyes. Slowly, the loathing faded from them and the more the real Rogue tried to break through from the inside, the more the look of her eyes changed. Suddenly, she could see! There it was, the loved face with the pronounced cheekbones - so close and yet so far away. Finally, she could see and while the Wraith showered the vampire with derogatory, cruel words, those eyes of hers told the truth.
"Don't give up on me...,"
they seemed to say and so she was shouting inside. Waves of memories rolled over her, times past returning. It was this which suddenly let a dangerous plan take form...plans which might as well were the only chance she had. "Trust me... trust us,"
If the Wraith controlled her personality, her being, and was almost overtaxed by doing so, what if there were many to be controlled? There was a door in her head, a door that Professor Xavier, Jean Grey and herself had sealed years ago but still she knew what there was behind. Was it time to face her greatest fear? Was she ready?
Spike: "...you'll be okay luv."
Was there another way?
She felt herself becoming weaker... her resistence lessened, maybe faster than the Wraith's strength withered. It was now or never.
Before the demon could know what happened, Rogue turned to the door and - without any other moment of hesitation - forced it open. Instantly, her mind was flooded with thoughts, emotions, memories... whole personality patterns and hundreds of decades of life. The struggle for the control over Rogue's mind began between them, yet it was different. They were no beings, no wills as was the Wraith... they would change her, not be her.
"I love you more than my life,"
Before she drowned in this sea of souls, in the second the demon had to let go, vanishing from inside her, Rogue regained full and conscious control over herself. If only for a second, she returned to her battered body, her eyes solely focused onto William's.
"Never forget,"
And she disappeared into herself.
- Fade Out for Rogue -
(OOC: Spike could carry her back or something... She seems to be dead at the moment... meaning she's in the same state she had been in at the end of my last post with her, staring blankly, no eye movement and all that. I'd love to go on with her during the time leap... think we should discuss some details via MSN oooor next week face2face)
"Who am ah?
Is there anythin' else in this world... anythin' tha's not pain?!"
Maybe the best thing I could do for you Is leave you in Peace
Posts: 609
(6/26/04 10:05 pm)
Re: The Coming of Darkness
ooc: Yes, we'll buy iced drinks, lay down our comfy towels on those cosy beach chairs, then spends hours soaking the sun, catching the waves, spying on spunks, and discussing highly important RPG matters!
-----------------
"Ah told ya ah didn't wanna see ya again,"
The words really cut deep for the fact that he had thought that maybe she had been strong enough to fight off the demonic possession and that is why she was brutally thrashed like this. He closed his eyes, seeing the way she held him in the past, the way they talked alone at night, the way she never seemed bothered by the cool touch of his hands, drained of the life they once possessed. But this wasn't his Rogue, he just had to keep that in mind, like Garnet said, this wasn't her doing, he had to protect her, even if it was from her own self. Spike opened his bright eyes, it was so easy to see how much her attitude towards him hurt, even if he did know there was another demonic entity inducing this behaviour.
"To the Institute? With you?!" Don't listen to the words, those were the only thoughts he allowed himself to think of, his eyes just pleading for her to return to him as he looked down at her, ignoring the commotion taking place around them. It seemed an eternity until she actually truly looked at him, and those eyes, those deep emerald eyes, they had been his salvation, his firm ground when the world trembled all around him. Without the help of Rogue who knows where Spike would have ended up, what soulless misdeeds he would still be forced to do at the hands of his sires, or perhaps he would be slain, as his sires were both defeated.. He was utterly alone, with only those eyes as his guides, her arms as his support, and her love as the strength that helped him survive the torments he endured.
"Never forget,"
There was silence, everything around him was shut out by his mind, only accepting one thought, one image, one source of sound.. only registering Rogue's presences, as has happened so many times before. She hadn't died, though for a frightful split seconds it had appeared as if she had passed away, but her heart continued to beat, though all signs of life were faint. Her body motionless, unpresponsive to Spike's touch as he let his fingers stroke against the skin of her cheek once more, in a way only he - one of the rare few - were able to do.
"Luv?" The word was barely whispered, "Ro'?" Why wasn't she responding any more? He shifted about looking helpless and confused, he wouldn't forget, he'd always remember, he had a perfect memory, he'd remember anything she wanted him to remember, he a little too frantic at the moment to realize the meaning of what she had said. Carefully he scooped her up into his arms as the remainder X-men focused on subduing the last possessed mutants, taking her away from the scene as he moved towards the door, forgetting all about Aran and Garnet who were still outside..
---------------
ooc: I say after Garnet and Aran have their thing, you just have a mass fade out for all characters Matt and finish off the entire thread!
Selkie Halle Parker
Half girl, half seal, all attitude
Tantrum Julian Edwards Quite the Temper
Tinkerbell
Tessa Macneil
Team: Silver Strike Force
Transformer
Trent Carson Unsure of his place
Lexi Moore All Five Senses
Clark Kent Kal-El Last son of Krypton
Viper
Victoria Fitzbruin
Poison Princess Brotherhood Member
Posts: 696
(7/1/04 8:15 am)
Re: The Coming of Darkness
Tessa had been held back so so long that she felt as if she were a prisoner in her own body. Even her thoughts, her emotions and her memories of everything were an open book to the wraith inhabiting her and if she had had her face to herself it surely would have been weeping tears of frustration and humiliation. When she felt the pressure around her lifting it was as if emerging from underwater after having been forcibly held under with little breath remaining. The Faerie had little energy but all that she did have was channelled in one direction, towards the wraith.
With their brains connected she felt his agony even without the dead giveaway of a strangled groan as she tried to push him away from her body.
"Do you think you're free of me? Stupid girl I'll always be there and you'll always feel me. You'll only be free of me in body," the Wraith sneered at her but he was losing strength.
"Fine with me," Tessa said and she felt the freedom of thinking and of having her own mouth speak her words. It had been so long and the simple sensation of it was enough to curve her cimson lips into a smile. Her body was still not hers, not entirely but as the familiar voice of Connor spoke she felt stronger and the demon, who she could now almost see in her mind clinging to her body, couldn't hold on.
He screamed but he didn't have control of her body, not entirely anyway, and instead she felt the scream in her head. Tessa covered her ears with her hands to no avail and she fell to the floor, thrashing at the sound of the scream audible only to her. Her face contorted in pain and she was only dimly aware of Connor standing over her. Even as he asked outright if she was okay she was unable to answer, her mind now focused solely on that horrific sound that chilled her to the bone.
Tess felt her breath come in short gasps and wondered if she was hyperventilating. With the scream still echoing in her ears she lost consciousness and fell into a black abyss where all she heard was silence.
Across the room from her the dark haired woman now known as Nightmare stared out coldly from posessed dark eyes that glinted with malicious intent. Her wraith had trapped her and had taken hold in her dream state making his hold over her far more powerful. In dreams people were vulnerable, even people with the power to manipulate them for here in reality she was unable to change or manipulate anything.
She stared out at the various others, the wraith controlling her not willing to help the others of its kind since the price would be sacrificing the hold he had on her. Even her powers were not of much use now. Putting the room to sleep would be of little use and it would be a great drain on the energy of him and of the girl whose body he plundered.
Loni was only dimly aware of what was happening around her. She saw only what he wanted her to see and that was very little. A part of her noticed that there were others around who seemed to be a part of her life, she knew that they were familiar but it had been so long that she couldn't remember any of them, only their faces. Who were these people and why were they here?
For a reason that she couldn't explain Loni felt a strange bitterness inhabit her. Someone wasn't there. Someone who should have been there but she had no idea who. Whoever it was they had mattered to her in this life that she could not quite remember. Yet try as she might she couldn't find anything related to this person until... yes as she remembered the night that everything had changed in blurry detail there was a man there who had been standing behind her. Who was he? Should she know him? She thought that she should but she couldn't remember him.
There was a petite african-american woman in front of her now and both her and the wraith squinted their one pair of eyes trying to place her. Worry was held in her eyes and there was an aura of concern about her. "Loni, are you alright? Oh my God," she said and her tone was full of worry.
Why was this girl worrying about her? Loni searched her memory but it had been damaged and she saw only weather surrounding the girl. Immediately the wraith glanced over at the weather mutant in the room who had also been posesssed. A daughter perhaps? Loni didn't know. Whoever it was this person seemed concerned about everyone and she left her place to glance at the fallen faery with deep sadness. Her glance also focused on the white haired mutant who was standing by another male mutant. How sweet, the wraith thought and Loni felt disgust course through her.
She seemed to awaken fully at that moment and became aware of the wraith distorting her memories. She wanted to know who the man who had tried to protect her was. Had he been a relative, a brother or her father? Or perhaps had he been her lover, had he cried at her loss? Loni felt like she didn't know who she was anymore but she wanted to know once again and deep yearning filled her.
A yell escaped her lips and Loni started in surprise. It was her yell, her cry through her lips. She was gaining control. Using all of her energy and focusing on a foggy image of a rock and chains with a faceless man attached that somehow meant something to her Loni began to fight. She put every inch of her stubborness into this and she felt the wraith losing ground. As she sank to the ground in exhaustion she knew nothing except that she was Loni, that the wraith was leaving and that the man would protect her, somehow he would be there in spirit if not in body. With that she fell into muddled dreams that she could not control.
(OOC: Fade out for Tessa, Aisha and Loni. I hope it's okay that I brought Aisha in. She has connections to alot of the people and I thought that her seeing her mother from this Universe but not being able to help or to stand near her might be a sort of paralell of her feelings about their relationship. I'm gone for a few days but that's it for my characters in this topic.)
(OOC: This closes off the topic and thus the timeframe!)
Once again, crystalline stars of chilling white descended from the sky like silent messengers from the Gods speaking of a divine beauty and perfection man could not dare to imagine. Slowly, softly, the world was – all the more – covered with a burial garment that attempted to hide the grayish misère mankind had inflicted onto this world with innocent cruelty. Although clubs, fast food restaurants and other establishments kept the city illuminated 24 hours a day, true light was rare and even the street lamps in front of the Renaissance Hotel had something artificial, something fake and unreal everything manmade would probably possess until the day of its extinction.
At time of the night, in this part of the town, hardly anyone was seen outside and those who roamed the nocturnal streets mostly took other - faster and safer – ways back home. While inside the Hotel, many battles had just found their surprisingly quick end, one was yet to begin outside.
Matthias knew he would neither be helpful nor involved in any way until there was an end to whatever was to come and so he retreated into the deep shadows that place that had been inhabited by ancient evil cast.
“Aran, what is it? (or something…)
Garnet’s question posed in a concerned manner let the green-skinned mutant opposing her roll his eyes in annoyance.
After following Aran to the Hotel as fast as she could, Aurora seemed reluctant to actually get closer to him, her eyes unusually large and fearful as she tried to examine him from the distance of about five meters that made it difficult to even see the details of his face properly as dark as it was.
“You just don’t get it, do you?”
Slowly, he approached her, his features becoming more visible the closer he came. Aurora couldn’t suppress a shocked gasp as she noticed her friend’s almost twisted expression, which she could only connect one word with: evil. But that wasn’t him, was it? He was possessed, not himself, controlled by something he was struggling against… somewhere inside there.
“Awww… is little Ms. Perfect’s world about to crumble? Quel malheur!”
His voice was mocking as he spoke mimicking a child. Still he was coming closer – slowly, casually – and as he did, Garnet felt the strong urge to just run and hide, to cover her ears with those trembling hands of hers – to close her eyes so she didn’t have to see that thing that talked like Dryad but sounded totally different at the same time.
“Did you really think I would sit back and forget about what that filthy brood did to me, listening to that old guy’s babbling about peaceful co-existence. He can talk, he doesn’t know, no one knows – they all hide instead of facing the real world, chère. They dream and risk their lives to save those who wish them dead, those who detest our kind and see us as something sick and misshapen. Isn’t that just ridiculous?’
A bitter laugh interrupted those words spoken so sarcastically. He had almost reached her as Aurora finally managed to get her lips to move. Her voice was weak, her faith waning as she stuttered the only thing that kept on bouncing in her mind.
“That is just not true’
No, it couldn’t be. Those dead bodies she had seen, the insane twinkle in his eyes… this couldn’t be the real Aran, her friend, the only one Madison aside she thought to actually know as a friend. Aurora knew what he had been going through and she had always admired how he was able to still laugh so much. There had been so few days when she had seen him sad. Occasionally melancholy, yes, yet most of the time, he seemed to cope. And there was a difference between disliking normal humans for obvious reasons and killing them! No matter what he said, Aran – the real one – had a deep respect for all life… he wouldn’t take it… would he?
Suddenly, pictures intruded the fiery mutant’s mind as she remembered a scene in front of the Dying Star. It had been to defend himself and those who were with him but still, she had seen a expression close to what his face displayed now that day as well. Still, it couldn’t be!
“Why do you keep on lying to yourself, Garny? Normally you’re such a clever girl, aren’t you? You see through everything, impeccable as you are. Maybe you were mistaken… that happens, you know,”
By the time he said that, Dryad had stopped just a few inches away from the girl that suddenly seemed so much not her usual calm and superior self. It took all her self-control not to start panting out of mere despair. What he said was right and so wrong at the same time. Suddenly, he was at her side, his mouth whispering, almost hissing words she didn’t want to hear.
“They deserved it… one for all and all for one… and you know what?’
She gave a quiet whimper as she could hear him smirk diabolically, his voice full of a malicious cruelty she had never heard before… she had never wanted to hear. Whatever he was about to say, she didn’t care. She just wanted her friend back… she wanted to wake up from this bizarre nightmare and tell him about it. They could laugh together and then forget about it.
“I enjoyed it!’
There was a moment of silence after those slowly spoken words that echoed in the ebony-haired beauty’s head over and over again. If she would have looked into the other’s eyes at that moment, Aurora might have noticed a trace of confusion, a hint at the inner struggle that had suddenly started.
Gathering all his strength, Dryad was trying to get out of this chain of thoughts the Wraith had put him into. If what I did was what I wanted to do, why does that demon keep me from acting myself? Was it me who acted or the other that I didn’t realize coz it did what I wanted? But is that a possession then anyway? As he tried to find an answer to those questions, he was always forced to start anew, trapped in a vicious circle but still, he registered what was going on outside. A part of what the demon was saying actually was what he had been thinking for years. Partially, it contradicted his morals severely though, something that helped to regain control over his own thoughts slowly as did the Wraith’s diminishing power as the Witch King disappeared.
Along with it, pictures came to his mind though… pictures of mutilated bodies, people he had killed. It didn’t matter whether it had been his own mind or the other’s; it had been his body, his powers that had taken so many lives. That put him on the same level as those who had slaughtered his family. They had been innocent.
That realization stunned Aran’kla for a moment. It had been what he had wished for, deep, deep inside but still, it felt wrong. By doing what he thought would fulfill his revenge, he had betrayed himself… and for the first time, he understood the true meaning of losing control. A saying intruded his mind unasked, forcing its wisdom onto him.
Be careful with what you wish, it might become true.
Meanwhile, the Wraith had gently placed his right hand on Garnet’s cheek, his face hovering close to hers as if he wanted to kiss her. Anxiously, not daring to move, her dark eyes searched his, diving into them in search of what she knew was her friend.
“What are you looking for? Don’t you see that you’re lying to yourself?’
The grab of his hand became almost painful as he talked on with a tone that bordered cheerfulness. “Wait, I make you understand…”
Suddenly, a burning sensation erupted where their skins met, spreading out over her face with violent strength. A blinding, piercing light came along with it but as she tried to withdraw herself from this painful touch, she found she couldn’t. With his other hand, Dryad was pressing her against the solar flame, stopping her from escaping with all his strength.
However, it was just a second until he pulled away, holding his own hand, staring in disbelief at the red burn mark seared into the sensitive flesh of Garnet’s face. Quickly, it began to swell but fortunately for her, a primal mechanism didn’t allow the full intensity of the pain to reach her consciousness.
A scream of fury had arisen inside Aran and somehow, seeing his friend being hurt had broken the chains for the ultimate answer had been given. This was less what he wanted to happen than anything else… and using his will strength, he cast out the evil spirit that had – in sense – been more himself than he had ever been.
“I-I’m sorry!”
He stuttered, stepping backwards, his expression so miserable Aurora knew in an instant that he was back. Again with a lot of effort, the X-Woman kept herself from touching the wound and tried to smile. It was painful but still she somehow managed to appear almost cheerful although tears were shimmering in her eyes. Garnet herself wasn’t sure whether it were tears of joy, pain or sorrow. But it was over… finally. Or so she thought before she noticed the instable flickering of the other’s eyes.
“It’s ok, Aran… it hasn’t been you who did all o-,“
she started weakly, attempting to get closer to him. What ever had happened they could sort out later… home… anywhere but here where the night’s obscurity reminded her unpleasantly of what she had seen in front of the Baracas. He shook his head though, wildly, panicking, his gaze flicking around in a haunted manner.
“It’s not gone… it’s still inside o’me. I’ll never be able to defeat it,”
he spoke hectically as if chased and suddenly, his eyes focused on Circe’s, pleadingly. He opened his mouth to speak. *I can’t do this to her!*
The greening mutant pressed his lips together, his look becoming distant, somehow, clouded even.
Contrary to what he pretended, he knew the Wraith was gone forever, yet at the same time, he still could feel the satisfaction inside of him, the one he had felt when those pes-… those humans had dropped to the ground with a terrorized expression, fearing him. And wasn’t fear a form of respect, something they had always lacked for his kind?
Even when he thought that, when he remembered that emotion, he felt like hitting himself for that blasphemy. There a side of him he had feared existed, but there can be a sanity’s distance between guessing and knowing, something Aran had learned just then. That realization had made up his mind, yet he dreaded the consequences which was why the thought of asking Aurora to take the burden off him had come to his mind, But how was he supposed to leave in peace knowing he was putting an unbearable weight on his friend’s conscience? How could he redeem himself if he pulled her with him?
As if reading his thoughts, Garnet’s eyes searched his. “Let’s go home, Aran… let’s just… maybe later the Professor can…,”
There was despair in that voice of hers as she tried to distract her friend of those dangerous thoughts he seemed to be having. It had not been his fault, whatever had happened, had it? That evil spirit had used him as a marionette, nothing more, and now he was back to normal and everything would be all right again. If they just stood united like the family they were, they could sort out anything!
“He isn’t almighty, Aurora!”
he interrupted her jadedly, slowly shaking his head. A sad smile crouched onto his face, betraying his attempts to at least fake a smile for her, something she – as he thought – would have deserved for still trusting in him despite what he had done. It was amazing him how strong a friendship could be, always believing in the other, not giving up on him and even shutting one’s eyes from the truth if it helped bearing reality and preserving what was considered of value. For a moment, Aran considered to do as she proposed, to just go back and maybe have a blunt talk with his team leader, Kurt Wagner. Earlier, the blue-furred seemed to understand him, not to actually share his opinion but at least see why he was having the attitude he had.
Then again, what would there have been for him to say? Sorry, I accidentally murdered some people but don’t worry, it wasn’t much more than a dozen?! Even thinking it felt highly ridiculous and even worse, disrespectful towards those who had lost there lives in course of his rage. Dryad knew he would never be able to keep on with this struggle named life knowing of his reckless demeanor of vengeance. And no matter how powerful Charles Xavier was, he couldn’t raise the dead.
“No one can undo what I caused… and I’m still a threat’
In a way, that was even true. It was not the Wraith he was fearing but himself. Still, he did not dare to tell his only true friend that terrible truth… the truth about who, about what he was. It would be easier for her that way, wouldn’t it? Oh what arrogance to think of her mourning him! How could he dare to think of himself to be of any importance? It was an all too human way of thinking that got them to write letters explaining their reasons, saying goodbye. Mostly, it was not so those left behind would understand or feel better but rather a special kind of self-pity, yet his case was slightly different. With a painful sting he realized how hard he wished to be able to tell Aurora, to make her see what it was like to be him. After all, there is always a difference between understanding and sympathy on the one side and actual knowing on the other; however, it was clear enough that this was nothing that would help her.
With an inner sigh – silent, unheard – Dryad pulled himself up. He wanted to get it over with quickly; no need to waste time with maudlin speeches was there? This was no Hollywood movie; it was the real world where lunatic mass murderers rarely explained the details of their plans and saving the world was no matter of heroism and glory but blood and tears. There were no heroes in this world they were living in but those trying to make it a little better and those surrendering to the omnipresent, omnipotent injustice and misery man spread among themselves to have advantages of various kinds and for numerous reasons. What the Wraith had said about the scurrility of the X-Men’s codex was – in Aran’s mind – not that far away from truth. In the end, nobody would thank them or even consider changing the attitude with which they were being regarded. Somewhere, sometime, this band of brothers and sisters fighting for a better world would simply vanish from the face of this earth that gave birth to them without making sure they would be accepted, tolerated… allowed the essential right of living. He just wished he could make them understand that there was nothing blasphemous in being reluctant to give that precious gift of life for those who wished to crash it.
He was tired. So tired. It was about time. Raising a hand slightly, a golden hue appeared around his body that grew ever stronger, a burning aura that seemed to engulf him with blissful heat. It was comforting in its own, merciless way like a mother that – although strict and abusive – can still love her child with unknown intensity. Although concentrating hard to channel his powers, to focus them stronger than he ever had in his lifetime – although he inflicted that agonic pain on himself and the light was blinding him like the sun itself – Aran refused to close his eyes. He wanted to see this world one last time, not knowing what was to come after. If one of those many religions was right, his soul’s future was anything but pleasant and even if he would just vanish as a being, his body disintegrating and entering the circle of life as an accumulation of proteins, he wanted this schizophrenic world that he loved and hated and in which he was loved and hated in return to be burned into his mind like the solar flames carved their words of death into his flesh.
Sweet raptured light, it ends here tonight.
“You don’t have to do this… there’s always another way,”
She had long realized that whatever she said now, it would not change his mind and even if it had, his skin as far as she could see was already too mutilated to promise realistic chances of survival. Tears were abandoning Circe’s dark eyes as she reached out for him until the heat became painful. It was strange, somehow her usual invulnerability for everything connected with fire didn’t work this time as if since there was another source the energy was drawn from meant it was a different kind of heat as well. In fact it was just that the solar flame had reached a level even she was unable to resist. Although he must have been suffering unimaginable agony, no sound was heard from him, which didn’t necessarily mean he was able to keep himself from screaming. The golden-whitish light roared loud enough to swallow every sound that might arise from within or so Garnet guessed as she, fruitlessly, tried to get closer to him just to do something. There was nothing worse than being unable to do anything. Blinking to see her friend’s form in that infernal sun, she shouted out for him over and over again until her throat hurt and her lungs surrendered, forcing her to limit herself on breathing. Yet even this became a painful action – in two ways – for soon, the air was filled with the foul odor of burning flesh, vaporizing hair – of death. Before – all of a sudden – the light disappeared, she thought to hear her friend’s voice one last time. Whether he was whispering or shouting, whether it was real at all or just a product of her imagination, wishful thinking, she could not tell and truth be told, she feared the answer to much to actually dare and pose the question.
There was something peaceful and somehow calming as he spoke, yet then, it failed its purpose. “Don’t live in the past, you can’t change it. Don’t let hatred blind you for the light side of life… I wished I would’ve understood that earlier”
When Matthias gently took her hands from the burned, defaced figure on the ground that had once been her friend, she let it happen without any apparent reaction. Her arms dropped to her side as soon as she lost contact with the coaled skin that seemed all too fragile to remain shaped for long. Although the young black-haired mutant almost had to drag her all the way to the Institute with Storm who suffered from severe headache helping the best she could, Aurora followed as if her soul had left her body and she was but an empty shell that could only move if pushed into the right direction. Her gaze was aimless, distant, dead and as they slowly left the illuminated grounds with Lachlan and the others, there was nothing victorious about their moving. It rather had something defeated, beaten like warriors returning from a battle site where they left the majority of their comrades. There was only one, who really knew what was lost forevermore.
The snow began to fall in even thicker flocks of pure coldness covering everything and later, much later, when she asked, Aurora was told that the remains of Aran”kla Tzho-Quentin had vanished along with the heavenly burial garment.
... I'll let you bring Aran and such into the thread Matt! ^^"
:Pathetic human, you have weakened me and lost me what gave me my strength, the page will no longer be mine, and I can only hope that I will be reborn again. I leave your puny undeserving form to the fate it deserves, to allow you to live would be an atrocity to this whole realm::
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