The Ruins of Genosha, Wednesday Morning
Feb. 27th, 2013 09:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
genesisheroGenosha.
Genosha. It was a beautiful word, for such a horrifyingly devastated island. Once upon a time, mutants had been able to live in peace here, going through their day-to-day as normal people. The history of the island hadn't in living memory been peaceful by any stretch of the imagination, but in a world that hated and feared them, mutants had found sanctuary.
Until the Sentinels came.
Evan's hands were balled into fists as the group from the Jean Grey School surveyed the aftermath, wreckage left to stagnate for years. Buildings that once stood proud against the horizon, crumbled to dust in the streets. He had seen it before, once, in Magneto's Revolution class at Fandom. Here, in person, with the smell of old death in his nose and the safety of the Danger Shop long behind him, it was hitting him much, much harder. He didn't regret coming on the field trip. Not after Dr. McCoy insisted that the trip would be an important lesson for him, a reminder that every mutant needed, about what happened when hate was perpetuated between human and mutant.
It was a very poignant lesson.
"Sixteen million mutants died here," Dr. McCoy narrated as they picked their way through the ravaged streets. "They had no warning. They were offered no opportunity to evacuate the doomed city."
"My father among them," Headmistress Pryde added, walking at the Beast's side. "It's important we remember them. That we pay service to their lives by working towards a world where humans and mutants can live together, ensuring we never see a repeat of this atrocity."
Of course that was when Quentin spoke up.
It was always at the worst possible moment, wasn't it, that Quentin Quire chose to speak up?
"I got a solid good idea how we can start, Pryde." He levelled a finger at Evan, and Evan could feel the dread settling on his shoulders like a stone. This was why he'd left the Jean Grey School in the first place. This was why he'd gone to Fandom High, instead. "How about we don't raise our very own Apocalypse?! Seems like a good way to avoid any more genocide, right?"
"I-I never..."
Fortunately, Evan didn't have to try very hard to defend himself, standing there awkwardly with his breath ripped away and his heart beating in his ears. He didn't know anything about Apocalypse, except that he was a villain, except that he was an enemy to the X-Men. And the only person who seemed eager to tell him anything was the same person who was hell-bent on seeing him ostracized for it.
"Shut up, Quentin," Headmistress Pryde hissed, putting herself between Evan and his accuser. "We don't punish people for fear of a crime they might commit. And even then we still try to rehabilitate even little monsters like you."
And all the while, not a single person on the field trip was aware that they had an audience.
It had been about fifteen minutes since the last time Quire had spoken to Evan. That was always about as much time as he could stand to leave him in peace before trying to stir up trouble again.
"Hey, Evan-- Wait up!"
Evan intended to do no such thing, keeping his back to Quire as he stood, slightly away from the group, trying to gather his thoughts.
"Creepy place, huh? Must be like paradise to a sociopath like you." Not like Evan keeping his back turned would ever stop Quentin, of course. "You thinkin' on how you'll do this to the humans' cities?"
"Thinking how I'd deal with anyone who tried," Evan replied, his tone mild.
"I know how bad you want to sell that line," Quentin pressed. "But I've read all about you-- All about Apocalypse. All you are is a bad day waiting for me in the future. I look at you and see one thing..."
Quentin stepped around Evan, got right up in his face, and growled.
"... A monster."
What neither of them expected then was the third party, stepping in to add his own two cents' worth.
"Such a subjective concept," the man snarled, appearing out of nowhere, grabbing Quire's head like it was nothing and smashing it against the ground. Hard. "Especially comin' from you, Frail."
Evan froze in place, staring up at the hulking man, all leather and hair and claws and teeth, easily twice his own height, as he straightened from his crouch over Quentin and walked straight toward him.
"Well, well," he seemed to almost purr, something deep and dark and feral carrying in his words that gave Evan chills, "man o' the hour. Lets take a walk. Get to know each other. Name's Creed."
"Unless you run," another voice, not far off, this one belonging to Prince Kubark, Kid Gladiator, "your name's about to be 'Cerebral Hemorrhage.'"
"Mouthy runt," Creed growled, turning away from Evan to look at Kubark. "Stupid hair."
Evan didn't stick around long enough to know what happened to Kubark. He could feel the tremor in the ground that happened a little later, like something extremely heavy falling from a high place. Later, he'd learn that tremors like that happened in very specific circumstances. Circumstances such as when the Blob jumps from the top of a building onto a certain Strontian princes of the Shi'ar empire.
But for now, Evan was running. Running through the streets, looking for somewhere to hide, some sort of sanctuary in a city that had once offered it to millions. But the sanctuary of Genosha had ended horribly, years ago. So, so horribly.
He berated himself as he ran.
Coward.
Around a corner, now, his feet pounding against concrete. He didn't dare look back. Wished he had worn his rocket boots today, something that could help him get away faster.
Running from a fight. Not how you were raised. Pa'd be ashamed.
A doorway left wide open, into a toy shop filled with the ghosts of toys that had once been intended for vibrant young children. Young mutants, wiped clean from the world in the blink of an eye.
No-- not a coward. Smart. Like Uncle Cluster taught me.
He dashed into the toy store, ducked down an aisle full of packaged action figures, of an army of identical plastic heroes, row on row, waiting for a battle they'd never fight.
A smart man can tell time... Time to fight and a time to run. That's a villain after me. A real one.
And then, what he didn't want to admit to himself, what he'd been trying to learn and trying to hide from for over a year, now.
After me because of what I am.
Creed's voice cutting through the darkness broke him out of his reverie. It echoed around him through the room, so that Evan found himself desperately turning, trying to find its source.
"They been lying to you, boy."
No.
"Lying is what Chuck Xavier's clowns do."
No.
"You got power."
No no no.
"Power to change the world."
Evan spun again, eyes trying to seek Creed out in the darkness. Trying to find a place to escape to.
"Power to turn the tide an' set things right for folks like us."
Close. Creed was close.
"You just need better teachers is all."
No, not just close. Behind him. And Evan didn't even have time to turn before Creed dug the stun gun into the side of his neck and pulled the trigger.
[NFB and NFI, and adapted from the pages of Uncanny X-Force issues 26 and 27, the start of the Final Execution storyline. Heads-up now, the posts to come are going to be pretty horrifying and probably triggery as hell to some. OOC is welcome, though!]
Genosha. It was a beautiful word, for such a horrifyingly devastated island. Once upon a time, mutants had been able to live in peace here, going through their day-to-day as normal people. The history of the island hadn't in living memory been peaceful by any stretch of the imagination, but in a world that hated and feared them, mutants had found sanctuary.
Until the Sentinels came.
Evan's hands were balled into fists as the group from the Jean Grey School surveyed the aftermath, wreckage left to stagnate for years. Buildings that once stood proud against the horizon, crumbled to dust in the streets. He had seen it before, once, in Magneto's Revolution class at Fandom. Here, in person, with the smell of old death in his nose and the safety of the Danger Shop long behind him, it was hitting him much, much harder. He didn't regret coming on the field trip. Not after Dr. McCoy insisted that the trip would be an important lesson for him, a reminder that every mutant needed, about what happened when hate was perpetuated between human and mutant.
It was a very poignant lesson.
"Sixteen million mutants died here," Dr. McCoy narrated as they picked their way through the ravaged streets. "They had no warning. They were offered no opportunity to evacuate the doomed city."
"My father among them," Headmistress Pryde added, walking at the Beast's side. "It's important we remember them. That we pay service to their lives by working towards a world where humans and mutants can live together, ensuring we never see a repeat of this atrocity."
Of course that was when Quentin spoke up.
It was always at the worst possible moment, wasn't it, that Quentin Quire chose to speak up?
"I got a solid good idea how we can start, Pryde." He levelled a finger at Evan, and Evan could feel the dread settling on his shoulders like a stone. This was why he'd left the Jean Grey School in the first place. This was why he'd gone to Fandom High, instead. "How about we don't raise our very own Apocalypse?! Seems like a good way to avoid any more genocide, right?"
"I-I never..."
Fortunately, Evan didn't have to try very hard to defend himself, standing there awkwardly with his breath ripped away and his heart beating in his ears. He didn't know anything about Apocalypse, except that he was a villain, except that he was an enemy to the X-Men. And the only person who seemed eager to tell him anything was the same person who was hell-bent on seeing him ostracized for it.
"Shut up, Quentin," Headmistress Pryde hissed, putting herself between Evan and his accuser. "We don't punish people for fear of a crime they might commit. And even then we still try to rehabilitate even little monsters like you."
And all the while, not a single person on the field trip was aware that they had an audience.
It had been about fifteen minutes since the last time Quire had spoken to Evan. That was always about as much time as he could stand to leave him in peace before trying to stir up trouble again.
"Hey, Evan-- Wait up!"
Evan intended to do no such thing, keeping his back to Quire as he stood, slightly away from the group, trying to gather his thoughts.
"Creepy place, huh? Must be like paradise to a sociopath like you." Not like Evan keeping his back turned would ever stop Quentin, of course. "You thinkin' on how you'll do this to the humans' cities?"
"Thinking how I'd deal with anyone who tried," Evan replied, his tone mild.
"I know how bad you want to sell that line," Quentin pressed. "But I've read all about you-- All about Apocalypse. All you are is a bad day waiting for me in the future. I look at you and see one thing..."
Quentin stepped around Evan, got right up in his face, and growled.
"... A monster."
What neither of them expected then was the third party, stepping in to add his own two cents' worth.
"Such a subjective concept," the man snarled, appearing out of nowhere, grabbing Quire's head like it was nothing and smashing it against the ground. Hard. "Especially comin' from you, Frail."
Evan froze in place, staring up at the hulking man, all leather and hair and claws and teeth, easily twice his own height, as he straightened from his crouch over Quentin and walked straight toward him.
"Well, well," he seemed to almost purr, something deep and dark and feral carrying in his words that gave Evan chills, "man o' the hour. Lets take a walk. Get to know each other. Name's Creed."
"Unless you run," another voice, not far off, this one belonging to Prince Kubark, Kid Gladiator, "your name's about to be 'Cerebral Hemorrhage.'"
"Mouthy runt," Creed growled, turning away from Evan to look at Kubark. "Stupid hair."
Evan didn't stick around long enough to know what happened to Kubark. He could feel the tremor in the ground that happened a little later, like something extremely heavy falling from a high place. Later, he'd learn that tremors like that happened in very specific circumstances. Circumstances such as when the Blob jumps from the top of a building onto a certain Strontian princes of the Shi'ar empire.
But for now, Evan was running. Running through the streets, looking for somewhere to hide, some sort of sanctuary in a city that had once offered it to millions. But the sanctuary of Genosha had ended horribly, years ago. So, so horribly.
He berated himself as he ran.
Coward.
Around a corner, now, his feet pounding against concrete. He didn't dare look back. Wished he had worn his rocket boots today, something that could help him get away faster.
Running from a fight. Not how you were raised. Pa'd be ashamed.
A doorway left wide open, into a toy shop filled with the ghosts of toys that had once been intended for vibrant young children. Young mutants, wiped clean from the world in the blink of an eye.
No-- not a coward. Smart. Like Uncle Cluster taught me.
He dashed into the toy store, ducked down an aisle full of packaged action figures, of an army of identical plastic heroes, row on row, waiting for a battle they'd never fight.
A smart man can tell time... Time to fight and a time to run. That's a villain after me. A real one.
And then, what he didn't want to admit to himself, what he'd been trying to learn and trying to hide from for over a year, now.
After me because of what I am.
Creed's voice cutting through the darkness broke him out of his reverie. It echoed around him through the room, so that Evan found himself desperately turning, trying to find its source.
"They been lying to you, boy."
No.
"Lying is what Chuck Xavier's clowns do."
No.
"You got power."
No no no.
"Power to change the world."
Evan spun again, eyes trying to seek Creed out in the darkness. Trying to find a place to escape to.
"Power to turn the tide an' set things right for folks like us."
Close. Creed was close.
"You just need better teachers is all."
No, not just close. Behind him. And Evan didn't even have time to turn before Creed dug the stun gun into the side of his neck and pulled the trigger.
[NFB and NFI, and adapted from the pages of Uncanny X-Force issues 26 and 27, the start of the Final Execution storyline. Heads-up now, the posts to come are going to be pretty horrifying and probably triggery as hell to some. OOC is welcome, though!]
