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Post by summers on Sept 9, 2014 2:06:41 GMT
The library. Not Scott Summers' favourite area of the Xavier Institute, but today he had some catching up to do, study-wise. In the many months that the young Cyclops had been living at Xavier's, he'd been learning all about the condition that he and all other mutants were in possession of. Gifts, as the Professor termed them. The array of mutant abilities that Scott had encountered in his short life was large enough, but since he'd arrived at the school and really begun to learn all that both the Professor and Dr. McCoy had taught, Scott had been amazed by the science behind it all, discovering abilities he could never have imagined. Scott had tried hard to learn everything he could about mutation, including his own particular gift.
After a couple of hours reading papers written by Charles Darwin he'd been set for 'homework' (Scott found it funny to call it homework, since he lived at the school), he decided to head up to his room to get ready for a physics lesson with Dr. McCoy later that afternoon. Scott and Hank got on well, the youngster enjoyed hearing Hank's impervious ability to eloquently explain complex theorems. He looked up to the mutant known as Beast, and not only in the literal sense. Looking forward to his lesson, Scott hastened out of the library, down the corridor and up the grand old staircase towards the dormitories on the second floor.
Turning down the corridor that led to his room, Scott saw a face down the hall coming toward him that knocked the young mutant into some kind of trance. Stopping dead in his tracks, the red-headed girl walked up to him and spoke with a voice that Scott thought was the most perfect voice he'd ever heard.
"Hey! Could you, uh, point me in the direction of Professor Xavier's office?" Scott, still in a state of shock at seeing this girl for the first time and feeling completely dumbfounded, muttered some inaudible and unintelligible babble, before clearing his throat and awaking from his 'Dreamweaver' moment.
"Uh, yeah, sure, it's, er..." Scott spluttered out his words, his eyes seeing the girl with the shade of crimson that he viewed the world, her red hair glowing bright and her eyes shining like bright-spots in a distant nebula.
"I'm Jean. I probably should have said that first." Scott laughed, a little bit too hard, before he again cleared his throat and spoke up with a touch more intent.
"Oh, well hi Jean," he mustered up, before realising that this was where he should introduce himself, too.
"My name's Scott," he managed to say it sounding fairly normal, as Jean blushed ever-so-slightly. "Yeah, I can show you, it's right this way..." He motioned to Jean the direction they needed to head, and started walking with her, back down the corridor he had just come from.
"So, I suppose you're new huh?" Scott couldn't help but stare at Jean through his rose-tinted shades, which were more rose tinted than they'd ever been. She had a face that he never wanted to look away from, and he floated down the hall with his heart pounding inside him like it was any time about to make a jump for freedom out of his mouth.
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Post by summers on Sept 8, 2014 18:00:22 GMT
As Scott lay comatose in Wanda's arms, her hand stroking his hair as his face frowned intensely, his mouth open and his teeth grinding together, he fell into some kind of dtraneg dream. In his mind there was darkness, nothing to see, no light or anything, in every direction. Floating in complete blackness, unable to move his body, the X-Man focused on a small pin-prick of light, what seemed like eons away from him. Focusing on the light, it began to grow in size, as if he was moving towards it at an incredible rate. Accelerating, moving faster and faster towards it, the light grew until Scott was right in front of it, until he could make out what it was.
"Hello? Are you okay?" Scott could make out a young girl, a teenager, no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, sitting on a wooden chair, facing away from him. It sounded like she was crying, tiny delicate wimperings barely audible, but bouncing around the darkness like the acoustics in a great music hall.
"You were at the house, weren't you? It was you, whose face I saw before..." Just at that moment, the girl stopped crying, silence filling the atmosphere, creating a tension that could only be sensed.
"Yes," whispered the girl. "You came to take him away. But he's all I have got left..." Her voice crackled through into Scott's mind, echoing with each word until they faded away.
Scott tried to speak back to her, but found that his mouth was stiff, as if a spell had been put on him disallowing him from being able to speak. Trying to move his body, Scott realised he had lost all ability to move, like each and every muscle had been frozen, all except for his eyes. Terrified, he tried to speak, but only gargling sounds came from his throat, before he noticed that the girl had stood up and was turning around very slowly.
She whispered again, her voice reverberating in the solid darkness so loudly Scott felt like he might go deaf. "Leave us alone, or I will make you suffer all of your worst nightmares at once..." The girl's dark hair spun slowly and creepily, until Scott could see her profile. Just as she was about to turn and face him, Scott heard Wanda's voice, echoing in the darkness.
"Wanda, I can hear you, where are you?" he could speak again, and he could turn his head from left to right, desperately searching for where he could hear Wanda.
"See me, feel me..." he voice echoed, until Scott couldn't see anything anymore, the girl had disappeared and the darkness slowly changed into bright, blinding light. "Feel me..." Wanda's voice echoed, before all of a sudden Scott awoke, sweat beading down his forehead. He was lying on the floor, Wanda holding his head. Seeing her, face the X-Man, breathed a huge sigh, a wave of relief passing over him as he came to.
"What... what happened?" his quivering voice showed he was shaken, and he could barely remember the dream, but his aching body was rid of the tension that had left him unable to move in the dream.
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Post by summers on Sept 8, 2014 17:32:53 GMT
Charles Xavier's assurances washed over the young Scott Summers like rain on a hot day. Scott had found it really tough to speak to people, trust issues were always there for the orphan, and after what he'd been through at Milbury's, trusting wasn't something that Scott found easy to do. But in the presence of Charles, he felt able to calm his mind and body down, the tension and fear he'd been feeling for so long was almost pushed completely away. And Scott hadn't even seen his face yet.
“I understand, Scott..." That was exactly it. The Professor did understand, Scott knew that he did. The youngster felt that he'd been found at his lowest ebb, when all else had gone to pot, when everything looked like the end of the world, in ruby-scope. Salvation can come to some at distinct moments in their lives, pockets of time that are filled with hope, the hope that the future could only bring. And now Scott felt, for the first time in a long time, that hope was back at his side again.
As the Professor and his cohort Hank left the car, Charles reached out into Scott's mind. 'Like this...' Charles had whispered in the teenager's mind. Scott could feel his lips motioning into a smile, as he realised not only the great power that Charles had, but also the extent to which Charles was able to utilise his abilities. For Scott, having a mentor of immense strength and power could be the best thing that could happen to the boy at this stage in his troubled life. Smiling, with eyes still closed tight, Scott whispered back in his mind, hoping that Charles could hear as the Professor and Hank headed off into the building.
'You mean like this?'
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Post by summers on Sept 2, 2014 23:14:57 GMT
As soon as Scott had mentioned Magneto, the mood in the room fell rather awkward, as Wanda spoke and ripped away at her gloves. It seemed the very mention of his name had seriously affected her, like a fury had swept across her and had afflicted her emotions.
"I'm not one of his good little terrorists."
As she strode across the room, Scott tried to offer an apology, beginning with, "Look I'm sorry..." and ending with, "... okay I won't mention it again!" spliced between Wanda ordering the barely-able-to-move Cyclops to get dressed. Tossing clothes at him, the shirt opening up as it fell right onto Scott's head, covering his face. A muffled voice spoke from underneath.
"What's your plan here," Wanda was rooting in a drawer, as the X-Man swept the shirt from his head so he could see the room again. "Are we going after the girl? I can barely remember what she looked like..." Scott sat up and put on the shirt, wincing slightly from the bruising on his muscular torso. Standing up and slipping on the slacks, Scott tried to distinguish the girl in his mind, recalling the moment he saw her. Just before the place went boom...
"She was laughing, I remember that. I knocked on the door, the place was dead, I couldn't hear a thing." Holding his hand to his head, Scott turned his head from side to side, trying his best to re-imagine what had happened before the explosion.
"So I knocked again, shouted 'hello' once or twice. Then I heard a scream, a girl screaming. I crashed through the door, the whole place was on fire, and then I saw the girl..." Scott stood still for a moment, as if entranced by the recollection of her face. All of sudden, Scott jerked his whole body, letting out a long screech, like he was in absolute agony."Nooooo! Get out of my head!!" Slamming himself down on a chair aside him, he raised his head slowly and looked blankly across at Wanda. Tears began to stream down his cheeks from under his ruby-quarts glasses, falling completely silent, as if someone had hypnotised him and he'd instantly fell into a daze. In his mind, all he could see were his worst nightmares, all together at once, hellish scenes of horror swarming around inside his head. Then, he fainted and fell down to the floor, once more out cold.
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Post by summers on Sept 2, 2014 13:30:43 GMT
Hi everyone. I thought it would be a good idea to have a thread that everyone can post to, with ideas for site-wide and co'operative plots and storylines, that involve multiple characters. We can then begin to build our own site history and start to create large-scale plots that affect the individual histories of each character involved. Our own unique historiography would then begin to build, filling in gaps from between the movies, as well as utilising the AU board with alternate storylines and plots. Also, we can all keep tabs on what else is going on in the board, which is integral to the co'operative story that we are all building together.
So for example, I had an idea for all of those associated with the X-Men to partake in a Danger Room thread. It would be conducted by either the Professor or myself, and it could be set in the Danger Room, with all X-Men involved in a co'op thread. I or the Professor would ask for participants in a thread on this forum to confirm their involvement by a certain time/date, and then we'd start the actual Danger Room thread! And I just know that a Danger Room thread with all of the relevant characters involved would turn out to be pretty awesome  Other factions could of course do similar things. eg. the Brotherhood could collaborate on some kind of heist or guerilla attack, or whatever else it is that you baddies like to do  Even a full-on battle between the X-Men and the Brotherhood could be plotted out on here and then we can engage with the thread! The possibilities are boundless!
If this is not a good idea or if it makes things a bit complicated then I understand, I just want to try to help create some awesome stories with all you lot where we can all get involved together. With our great minds combining, I'm sure we can create something special. Let me know if this is a good idea or not. Thanks guys.
Cyke.
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Post by summers on Sept 2, 2014 13:14:18 GMT
Hey behbeh, you and I have got lots of threadin' to do |
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Post by summers on Sept 2, 2014 2:18:16 GMT
Thought it might be a good idea to have this linked on here as a guide, might be of assistance when working out when threads are set and such...
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Post by summers on Sept 2, 2014 1:55:29 GMT
1966-69 (estimated) Scott Summers is born to US Air Force test pilot Christopher Summers and his wife Katherine.
March 1975 Whilst out flying, the Summers family, including Scott's brother Alex, encounter problems with the plane they are travelling in, and Scott is forced to eject himself and Alex with the only parachute. The plane crashes and explodes, whilst the brothers fall to relative safety. Upon impact, Scott hits his head and falls into a deep coma. Awaking after several months, Scott is put into an orphanage, his brother's whereabouts remain unknown to him.
December 1976 Scott's mutant ability first emerges, as a concussive blast from his eyes obliterates a crane on a building site, almost killing several workers and causing thousands of dollars worth of damage.
May 1977 Scott is discovered by William Stryker and his unusual ability is identified as a powerful weapon. Kidnapped from the orphanage, he is taken to The Island where he is kept prisoner, along with many other young mutants.
1979 Scott and his fellow detainees are rescued by Gambit and Wolverine, who free the frightened mutants. Scott is put back into the orphanage he lived at previously, only it has now been taken over by a wealthy local businessman, Mr Milbury, who in fact is Mister Sinister posing in order to cover up his real intentions.
1981 After years of torturous experimentation, Scott finally escapes from the Milbury House for Orphaned Children and winds up meeting Charles Xavier and Hank McCoy in downtown Omaha. He is taken to the Institute and becomes a pupil at Xavier's.
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Post by summers on Sept 2, 2014 1:02:55 GMT
CX: No Erik, I already told you, I'm Starsky, and you're Hutch. Got it? EL: *sigh* 
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Post by summers on Sept 1, 2014 22:30:49 GMT
Scott lay there as his attractive 'nurse' assisted his injuries. His entire body felt sore, as if it had suffered from some kind of impact trauma. He still couldn't remember what it was that happened back at the house. He could just about recall the young French mutant's face, a worried, almost terrified face. The face of someone who was perhaps not in control of their own self, or their abilities.
The bruises on Scott's body were painful to the touch, and as Wanda brushed them softly he tried his best not to flinch. But now and again, as he felt the odd sharp pain, his body jerked slightly and tensed up, Scott's jaw clenching each time.
"Wanda, Wanda Bedi. I used to work with Charles."
The X-Man's eyes squinted as he searched his memory for Wanda. Worked for Charles? When was this? Had Scott already met this girl in his past? He continued to search through his mind, before he remembered something, a good few years ago, when he was still a teenage student at the Institute. Wanda. This was Magneto's daughter.
"You are hurt, was there anyone else with you?" She spoke with a cool, relaxed tone, a calm amongst the storm of his injuries.
"No, I was alone... I think." The truth was, Scott couldn't remember if anyone else was in the house, along with Adam. "Wait, yeah, there was someone else there. A woman, but I can't remember clearly enough..." Scott tried to raise himself up, to attempt to get to his feet, but he grimaced from the pain in his back and his body fell back down on to the bed.
"How did you find me, Wanda? And why are you helping me?" The mutant known as Cyclops remembered that Wanda was Magneto's daughter, and assumed her allegiance was with her father. "You're not going to turn me over to your dad are you?" Scott began to feel alerted to the fact Wanda's intentions may not be as honourable as he had first thought. Trust was a rarity in the lives of mutants, a human quality that was very difficult to both gain, and offer.
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Post by summers on Sept 1, 2014 16:29:08 GMT
Scott had been unconscious for a couple of hours, lying there in the burnt house of Adam Dupont, the mutant he had been sent to speak to. The meeting hadn't gone well, and Adam had gotten scared when Scott had turned up, complete in his full X-Men regalia. The frightened boy had let go of his powers and Scott had taken the brunt of it, the house may have been burning but at least it was still standing, unlike the unconscious Cyclops, who had attempted to crawl out of the house after Adam had blew the place up, only to be hit on the head by a flailing piece of furniture. Out cold, it was lucky that anyone had found Scott at all. But today was his lucky day.
Awaking slowly, the world spinning in front of his eyes, and a headache as bad as the morning-after-drinking-the-night-before with Wolverine, the X-Men leader tried to lift his head up, only for his energy-less body to fail him and allow his head to fall back down onto a cushion underneath. Eyes closed, face frowning, Scott lay there, trying to remember what had happened to him. Scott relayed his thoughts to what he could last remember; he had been sent to speak to a young mutant called Adam Dupont. He remembered that part, but had to really concentrate to try to remember. Scott recalled arriving at the house just outside of Paris, only to find the sounds of crying and weeping coming from inside. He'd knocked on the door a few times, shouted too, but the weeping continued and nobody responded. It was at this point that Scott had tried to gain entry to the house, and that was the last thing he remembered.
But now, where was he? Someone had saved him, that was for sure; he was no longer in the Dupont house. Opening his eyes, Scott saw the outline of a girl, beautiful eyes and long, flowing hair coming towards him, against a backdrop of bright, shining light coming from the open window on the far side of the room.
"Its ok, you're safe, I promise, everything will be ok." She spoke with a soft, soothing voice, and she began to take off the upper part of his X uniform to tend to his sore body.
"Who, who are you? I recognise you, but..." Scott's voice was thin and crackling, he had just awoken from being out cold for a couple of hours and he was still unsure whether he had even properly woken up, or whether he was dreaming.
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Post by summers on Sept 1, 2014 16:07:52 GMT
Feeling the warmth of the blanket now draped over Scott's shoulders, his shivering began to slow down, his mind now at ease and his tension relieved. Scott hadn't felt this comfortable with anyone since he had been a boy; his time at the orphanage had only managed to further displace the youngster from any meaningful relationship with anybody. His 'friends' back at the home were no more than bullies, the teenager had always been rejected by most of the others due to his weird eye condition, it seemed maybe the bullies had known that Scott was a mutant even before he realised it himself.
The three were now heading out of the alleyway and towards a rental car, as their conversation continued. "Westchester, huh?" the teenage mutant spoke softly, his eyes still kept tightly shut. He listened intently as Charles explained his school to the youngster, who was very much intrigued by the sound of the place.
"It sounds like a haven, for people like us. You're some kind of protector, some kind of helper to other mutants?" asked Scott, as he was assisted into the car by the rather large and furry blue mutant known as Beast. "Thank you, Hank," Scott offered his gratitude to the man who he hadn't yet seen.
The car had now pulled away from the scene of Scott's accidental display of destruction, the youngster keeping his head down and his eyes as firmly squeezed shut as he possibly could. He didn't want to cause another accident, not on the open roads.
“Would you prefer to wait in the car while Hank and I collect our things,” Scott turned his head to hear Charles' words better. “Or would you rather come in with us?”
"Well, I guess if we're heading off straight away, I'll be okay here in the car." Scott's lips shaped into a feint smile, as he realised he now needed caring for like any other disabled youngster. "I just hope we can turn me off, this eye thing, y'know? I don't wanna live like this..."
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Post by summers on Aug 27, 2014 12:08:21 GMT
“There must be a way to control it, Scott,” Charles' voice was reassuring and deliberately determined. “We’ll figure it out together.”
He seemed so intelligent, so friendly and caring. He was very well-spoken, which suggested he came from a distinguished background. He was educated, and Scott reasoned in his mind that a man such as this may well have the necessary tools and abilities to help the confused young mutant. Charles, and Hank, clearly wanted to help the teenager, and clearly believed they could. Scott had nothing left to lose. He was at zero point, and the desperation he felt urged him to trust and believe in the two gentlemen who had so diligently tracked the boy down.
Scott moved his head left, as he heard the second man speak for the first time. Again, a well-spoken, educated voice resonated with Scott, these men were definitely intellectuals.
“If nothing else,” Hank offered, “I’m sure there’s a substance out there that could serve as a barrier of some kind. After all, there’s really no such thing as a completely unstoppable force.”
Scott nodded along as Hank spoke. Deep in his mind, he had wondered if there was such a material he could use to block out the tremendously powerful beams of energy that blasted out from his young eyes. These men, these educated, intelligent individuals, who themselves were mutants, these men could be the ones to find a way to allow Scott to control, or at the least guard his powers.
“We’ll think of something,” Charles confirmed with a nod. “Now, if you’re willing to come with us, we’ll need to stop back at our hotel before heading to the airport.”
Scott nodded. "Okay," he murmured, a little nervous tension in his voice. He'd always been told, as most children are, not to trust strangers. But compared to what he had experienced back at Milbury's, the youngster decided that he would indeed trust, in his own instincts.
"I'm ready to go with you," Scott spoke as he lifted his head toward Charles. "You mentioned an airport... where exactly is it that we're headed?"
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Post by summers on Aug 24, 2014 19:08:15 GMT
Scott's breathing was getting slower, and his temperature was starting to calm down a little too. But he was still terrified to open his eyes. He could feel the energy, dancing around behind his eyelids, waiting for any kind of chance to surge out from their dark hiding place. The man spoke again, his voice soothing the youngster with each spoken syllable.
“My name is Charles Xavier; I’m like you, Scott, a mutant.”
A mutant? Is that what he really was? Scott was aware of the new race of human kind, the world was beginning to become a really weird place recently, but he hadn't considered that he himself might be a mutant, that these episodes were the result of his own DNA. The more he thought about it, the more Scott realised that this man, this Charles Xavier, this mutant, he was telling the truth. Scott was a mutant.
As the two spoke, the youngster's condition returned to normal, Scott feeling more and more at ease. This man had a very calming effect on Scott, and he felt comfortable instantly with him, like he could trust him. Scott motioned his head upwards, to hear better the words of Charles Xavier, but he kept his hands over his closed eyes.
"Now, you aren't hurt, are you? Any injuries that my friend and I should see to? After all, it seems you’ve had quite the eventful night.”
Scott managed a tiny smile, before he responded to Charles' questions.
"No, I'm fine, thank you." Moving to get to his feet, Scott took his hands down from his face, revealing his tightly-squeezed eyelids. "I can feel it, I can still feel it inside my eye sockets. It's like, it's like I can't stop it. If I open my eyes, I just know it's going to all fire out!" He sighed as he bowed his head down to the ground again. "And so this is my mutation, I guess. My 'power'? Well, some good it's going to do when I can't even stop it from coming out of my eyes. Some power."
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Post by summers on Aug 24, 2014 18:50:48 GMT
You f*****g rock!!!  |
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Post by summers on Aug 24, 2014 18:49:44 GMT
It was the summer, and every year the city of New York played host to several high-profile events that attracted huge crowds from across the country, and world. One of these was the annual New York Scientific & Technological Engineering Convention, or NYSTEC. The NYSTEC was one of the world's largest festivals celebrating and showcasing the advance of human endeavour, in the fields of science, technology, computing, robotics, engineering, and everything in between. It brought together the best minds in their respective chosen fields, and all of the major related corporations and companies were both in attendance and showing off their own advances.
The US military were this year demonstrating a brand new weapon. Ten years in development, the much-talked about Weaponiser Project was to finally introduce to the people of America it's newest weapon in the fight against the new modern terrorist; the Wardens. Remote-controlled robotic drones which utilised the best modern technology had to offer, the Wardens used AI, something which the world had seen before with the creation of the Sentinels, and something that some influential pacifistic commentators had been actively speaking out in opposition of. This year, the NYSTEC had a lot more attention on it.
The X-Men, having their very own array of state of the art technology, including the Danger Room and of course, the Blackbird, were usually present at the NYSTEC, and Scott was looking forward to seeing some of the best that the likes of Stark Industries et al had to offer the scientific world.
Security was always a tight-knit affair, the event was broadcast on TV, news channel's had been speculating about what modern marvels would be shown to the world for weeks, and this year was no different. Scott had been selected to chaperon one of the school's more renegade students, John aka Pyro. The lad had a lot of potential, and his powers had been gaining recently, both in strength and intensity. The problem was, Pyro seemed to have a problem with authority, something that Scott, the field leader of the X-Men, believed in very strongly. As much as Scott had been looking forward to the day, he knew that his young student had been too, but not for the same reasons.
"So... looks like you got the short end of the stick. Pull the shortest straw? What made you get stuck babysitting? Figure this is the ultimate low for a teacher."
He had a sharp tongue too, and Scott grimaced a little as he heard John speak from just beside him, in the queue to enter the convention.
"The ultimate low? Don't be so hard on yourself there John," Scott turned his head, smiling to his young accomplice. "There could be worse people to babysit than you, mister. We'll have a good time here today."
The pair stepped forwards and passed through the barrier and up the steps into the huge hall where the NYSTEC was being held. It was loud, really loud, the excited voices of thousands all chit-chattering to combine with the sounds of engines and other machines being tested and switched on and off.
"Okay, so where d'ya wanna go first, John? Anything in the brochure you liked the look of?" Scott knew that Pyro was probably more interested in causing mischief, but he also believed that the young mutant had something good in him. Some kind of spark, anyway.
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Post by summers on Aug 18, 2014 18:05:23 GMT
Eyes wide shut, trembling like an orange-coloured autumn leaf, Scott was whispering to himself, praying almost, wishing this curse of his away. Although his unique power had rescued the naive and innocent-minded young mutant on this occasion, Scott knew that his inability to control his power made him a dangerous weapon, something that the Summers kid couldn't handle. He didn't want to hurt people, he wasn't an aggressive person, for Scott was just a frightened boy with nobody in the world to help him. He was alone.
A couple of times Scott had tried opening his eyes, relinquishing the tension between his eyelids just a tiny amount to be able to look at where he was. But as soon as the smallest gap appeared between his eyelids, as soon as the ruby-red energy had the tiniest of holes to expel itself from Scott's eyes, it would make a dash to the outside world. Scott instantly squeezed his eyes shut again the moment he realised the energy was still there, lurking behind his eyelids, waiting to demolish, destroy, devastate...
Scott had been kneeling there in the same place, head bowed, eyes closed, arms at his side, for a quarter of an hour, when he heard the voice of a man saying his name. The voice was calming, soothing, relaxing, and it instantaneously put Scott at some kind of ease. Wanting to open his eyes, but knowing he couldn't, Scott slowly opened his lips to reply to the voice in the early morning quiet.
“Scott Summers?”
"Hello, who's there?" he whispered, the crackled voice of a nervous teenager who'd just been through one of the most traumatic experiences of his young life. "How do you know my name?"
Scott lifted his head up, his eyes still squeezed tight. "I... I can't open my eyes. If I do, I might hurt you, I might, do something terrible..." The youngster was still in a state of panic, and his trembling voice spoke with a very real sense of worry and fear.
"Can you help me? Please?"
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Post by summers on Aug 14, 2014 0:51:53 GMT
The Milbury House for Orphaned Children Omaha, Nebraska Sometime in the early 80's
He was awake. In the huge, damp, pitch black dormitory where fourteen boys lay in their beds, one teenage youngster was lying wide awake. He just couldn't get the images out of his head. Images of things that had happened to him, in the basement of the grand old building that housed over fifty orphaned children. The images, they were intense, yet the young lad couldn't quite remember what had happened to him. Had anything even happened to him, or had he maybe just thought the whole thing up? Was he going crazy?
Lying there, staring straight up at the ceiling above him, the dark shadow of a damp patch was playing tricks on the child's tired eyes. The room was quiet, save for the sounds of his fellow orphans breathing and snoring and occasionally moving in their sleep. The time was around 3am and for the boy lying wide awake, the horror of his experiences had pushed him over the edge. Lying there, his young body filled with the stress, fear and intense trepidation of what else might happen to him, something clicked in his brain. A button or device of some kind had been pressed, for the events of the previous evening, whether the young mutant could remember clearly enough, had resonated somewhere in his psyche that told him that he had to get out of this place. Tomorrow. He would do it tomorrow.
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On a Tuesday afternoon, on the small sports field behind the orphanage, the sound of children could be heard, playing sports and performing other physical activities, as instructed by the staff of the Milbury. The orphanage was named after Mr Milbury, a well-off and seemingly friendly gentleman who was very interested in youngsters with 'special' abilities. After Scott and several others had been rescued from The Island, a few of them had been taken in by Mr Milbury, whose orphanage in Omaha had been recently set up. That had been a few years ago, and Scott Summers was now a teenager. And his very own 'special ability' had begun to creep into the youngster's already complicated life.
Scott was playing football with the other older kids, although he wasn't really being involved in the game. Not that he minded, of course. Today was the day when he would make his escape. It had been planned for weeks; straight after football, around 4pm, the staff would all head into the staff kitchen for coffee and cigarettes whilst the kids showered and got changed and ready for dinner at 5pm. The fence at the top end of the field backed on to a wooded area. Scott's plan depended on the staff ensuring all the children were inside before the last of them went for their break. Time would tell.
The whistle for the end of the session pierced the air, and Scott's heart started to beat faster. And faster.
"Hey Summers, you sucked ass, as usual!" One of the other boys, Tommy, the token bully-boy of the orphanage, always targeted Scott, and the other boys always went along with Tommy.
"Yeah, Summers," squealed another of the boys. "You should go play with the girls, you freak!" Scott, holding a ball, simply looked down at the ground and didn't say a word, hoping that the bullies weren't going to ruin his plans.
Suddenly, a shout came from across the field, it was one of the staff members, Chili.
"Do you guys want to go to bed without your dinner tonight? Get you asses in there and shower, right now!" Chili shouted, standing waiting for the group of teenagers to start making their move inside. Scott froze. He tried to look as conspicuous as possible. The other boys walked past Scott, still standing there, eyes to the ground. Tommy, stood on Scott's foot as he walked past, and knocked the ball out of Scott's hands, smiling as he did so. The ball bounced off Scott's foot and rolled away, in the direction of the far fence. Still Scott stood there, unmoving. Watching the ball come to a stand still a few metres away.
"Get movin' Summers! Jesus!!" shouted Chili.
"Just gotta get the ball," the youngster shouted back, pointing to the white ball. "Okay, go get it, then get in there and get ready for dinner." With that, Chili, the last staff member to be outside, headed in towards the staff kitchen. Scott managed a thin smile and looked across to the 10ft fence over 100 metres awy.
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He was running as fast he could. His heart felt as if it would come right out of his mouth. He was petrified, the sound of dogs barking behind him as Scott was chased by guards from the orphanage. Through the trees and the underbrush of the woods, branches snapping underfoot, heavy breathing accompanying the hurried sprint to freedom for the teenage runaway. Tripping on a loose branch, Scott fell down, knees first, then hands, followed by face. Into the leaves, he lay for a split second. Breathing heavily and eyes beginning to glow ruby-red, Scott looked ahead of him and saw the faint dark grey colour of buildings, lights emanating dimly in the distance. Turning to look behind him, Scott focused his eyes to try to make out the shape of one of his pursuers in the evening twilight. Nothing. And the dogs, their barks. They seemed to be fading. As if they'd taken a bad turn, lost his scent. Maybe he'd gotten away? Maybe he was finally free?
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The following morning, in the early hours around 5am, the young mutant awoke in an alleyway to the sound of a couple of tramps arguing over a pile of what looked like cardboard boxes. Lifting his head slowly, the tramps noticed the youngster and started to make their way over to him. Realising he might be in danger, Scott quickly awoke and sat up, before getting to his feet and backing up into a wall.
"Leave me alone," Scott tried to sound authoritative, older than he was, deepening his voice in an effort to sound like he wasn't the innocent, teenage boy that he was.
"What you doin' here, kid. Don't you think it's a little dangerous for someone of your age to be out here on their own? Huh?" The tramp, an older man with a stained yellow beard from years of smoking and shaggy brown, smelly hair, teeth missing in all corners of his mouth. "Bad things can happen..." the man's voice sounded more threatening, and a devious smile came across his face.
"No, you don't understand, you've got to leave me alone!" Scott exclaimed, beginning to sound hysterical. He was frightened, in fear for his life, and his fight or flight natural instincts began to take over his body in a psycho-somatic reaction.
"No, sonny, you don't understand..." the man, a wild look in his eyes, suddenly made a move towards the young mutant, and that's when Scott lost control.
Eyes glowing red, energy building up, anger and fear and adrenaline all combining in one intense moment, a burst of ruby-red energy suddenly emanated at an incredibly rapid speed from Scott's eyes.
"Noooooooo!" screamed the youngster, as the beam of energy pulverised the man backwards and into the air, his screech of pain fading as his body flew away from the young mutant. Closing his eyes and kneeling down on the ground, Scott moved his hand up, directing the other tramp, who had simply watched in silence at the unbelievable thing he had just seen, to leave the scene.
"Just go, run away!" shouted Scott to the man, who realised this was his cue to leave. Scott, sat there, eyes wide closed, shaking with fear and wondering how he was going to be able to live his life like this, let alone get to somewhere safe. Sitting there, all alone in the world, the frightened teenage mutant began to weep, tears forcing their way out from his tightly squeezed eyelids and down his pale cheeks. Not daring to open his eyes, he just sat there and cried in the dark, dirty alleyway. Alone.
Tag; Professor |
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Dec 21, 2020 15:03:19 GMT
Tag me @cyclops
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Post by summers on Aug 8, 2014 23:10:18 GMT
 Character Basics
.:Name of Character:.
Scott Summers
.:Species:.
Mutant
.:Alias:.
Cyclops
.:Year Born/Timeline:. Scott was born sometime between 1966 and 1969
.:Affiliation:. X-Men
Appearance
.:Physical Appearance:.
Standing at a tall 6 ft 3 inches and possessing an impressive physique, Scott is an imposing figurehead who walks with the authority that his position demands. The mutants' eyes are the main focus of his condition, constantly expelling concussive energy that means his eyes are glowing red. Because of this, he is always wearing his trademark ruby-red glasses. When a child, and before his powers manifested, Scott's eyes were brown, along with his hair, but ever since his teens his eyes have been impossible to see due to the emission of energy.
His relatively small stature developed throughout adolescence, and Scott has become an attractive and confident-looking individual who enjoys his role as leader of the X-Men. When dressing down, Scott wears jeans and t-shirts, combined with jackets, and he enjoys working out in the gym in order to maintain a high-level of fitness and his muscular frame. He sometimes wears sports-style clothing, depending on his activities, and when teaching his classes Scott likes to wear a more formal form of attire, which includes shirts and ties with stylish suits.
.:Height:.
6' 3"/192cm
.:Portrayed by:.
James Marsden
Personality
.:Personality:.
Scott was always a shy and reserved youngster, who found it difficult to make friends and was inept in social situations. Often bullied by older and bigger kids at the orphanage he grew up at, the young mutant found life even harder once his mutation began to manifest, early signs demonstrating his inability to control the power he had been bestowed. As he has gotten older, Scott has matured into a fearless and confident leader, whose self-belief has increased in tandem with the control of his optic blast.
Scott is an impassioned man who believes wholeheartedly in the teachings and philosophies of his mentor and teacher, Professor Charles Xavier. His honesty and loyalty cannot be questioned and Scott cares deeply about his fellow mutants, believing that humans and mutants can live together in peace. Although not a violent or aggressive man, Scott is not afraid to make tough decisions and is the archetypal leader; unafraid to lead his teams by example into battle if the occasion arises.
Still occasionally shy and introvert, Scott has developed top-level professionalism into his character and the serious edge of his persona is reflected in how he sees the world. His only weakness is when it come to members of the opposite sex, and sometimes it is not his mutation that can blind him, but his love. Fearless and determined, Scott is the personification of what it means to be a member of the X-Men, and he enjoys the personal responsibility that his esteemed position grants him.
.:Powers/Abilities:.
Manifesting in his teens, Scott has developed a unique mutant ability that allows him to expel a concussive force of ruby-red coloured energy from his eyes. This energy is extremely powerful and Scott has had to train himself to measure his optic blasts to enable himself to become a dangerous weapon. He can utilise his power to great effectiveness, being able to aim his blasts by focusing his eyes on a chosen target.
Due to an accident suffered when he was a child, Scott's optic blasts became uncontrollable as they manifested more and more, to the point that he must wear protective eye-wear (usually ruby quartz glasses and a visor as part of his uniform) to enable him to see. Scott's eyelids can naturally contain the energy from expelling but his inability to control his power is Scott's biggest weakness, for without his glasses or visor he is left blind by the devastating effects of his mutant condition.
History
.:Birthplace:.
Anchorage, Alaska
.:Family:.
Christopher Summers - Father (deceased)
Katherine Anne Summers - Mother (deceased)
Alexander Summers - Brother (aka Havok)
Gabriel Summers - Brother (aka Vulcan)
.:Occupation:.
Professor, Team Leader of the X-Men
.:Current Location of Residence:.
Xavier Institute for Higher Learning
.:History:.
Born the son of a US Air Force test pilot, he and his brother Alex were forced to abandon their parents as children when the aircraft that the family were travelling in was attacked by an alien spaceship. Scott and Alex were pushed out of the plane by their mother in a desperate attempt to save their lives, using the only parachute available to survive the ordeal. Comatose for months, Scott was placed into an orphanage in Omaha where he grew up.
Upon reaching his teens Scott's powers began to manifest, which got him into trouble after destroying a crane and almost killing several people. The attention that his condition brought him resulted in the young mutant being kidnapped by William Stryker, who wanted to harvest his powerful ability to create the ultimate mutant; Weapon-X. After being freed by Wolverine and Gambit, Scott was approached by Professor Charles Xavier to join his newly established Insitute for Gifted Youngsters, where he learnt to deal with both the responsibility of his powers and his control. Becoming Xavier's main student, and developing a close bond with the telepath, Scott grew from a scared teenager into a confident and assured young man whose heroism and loyalty could not be questioned.
After graduating from the Institute, Scott remained there to become a teacher of young mutants, using his own experience to help and aide the mutants of the future. He also assumed the responsibility of being the field leader of the X-Men, and is his mentor Xavier's right-hand man and most trusted cohort in the fight for mutant equality.
Sample Post
Awaking to the sound of falling rain hitting the window of his bedroom, and the calling of sea-gulls as they swoop in and around the grounds of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, the young man known to many as Cyclops perched himself on the edge of his bed, stretching out his arms above his head to enable the blood to flow and waken himself up. Eyes still closed to prevent his mutation from damaging the quaint and comfortable bedroom, Scott Summers reaches towards his bedside table for the specially-constructed glasses that give him some form of control of his amazing power, the young man pats his hand around the table, his fingers brushing against the glasses and taking hold of them. Putting them to his head, Scott opened his eyes for the first time that day and looked out of the window.
Raindrops covering the glass, water running down the pane to fall down to the ground outside, Scott stood up and strolled over to the window to take a better look at what kind of day it was. Looking out from the third-storey bedroom across the cliffs and out towards the ocean, Scott peered disdainfully at the huge dark-grey clouds heading towards the school. Frowning, Scott remembered that he had a class to take out later that day, and never being one for rain, he began to make amendments to the plans he had made for his class the day before.
'Well, I guess a trip to the science museum would be a little more comfortable for the kids today,' he mused, not completely thrilled at the state of the weather and his initial plan to take the children to the beach for the day.
'A little scientific education followed by McDonalds, that should keep them happy.' Scott smiled to himself, knowing that some of the kids would be more than a little disappointed with the way the day was to be re-arranged. After showering and getting dressed, the senior X-Man made his way downstairs to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast, before heading to his office where he awaited his young students to deliver the new plans for the day.
'This should be fun,' he said out loud as he sat down at his desk and made preparations for the days activities. He knew the disappointed kids would be giving him a hard time, but Scott was used to making decisions that might upset one or two people. That was part and parcel of his role at the Institute, and reflected in his responsibility as field-leader of the X-Men. It was what he believed he was born to be; a leader, an inspiration. An X-Man.
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Other factions could of course do similar things. eg. the Brotherhood could collaborate on some kind of heist or guerilla attack, or whatever else it is that you baddies like to do 
Even a full-on battle between the X-Men and the Brotherhood could be plotted out on here and then we can engage with the thread! The possibilities are boundless!
