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sixwordstories2015-02-22 01:39 am
blindbirdboy) wrote in sixwordstories2015-02-22 01:39 am
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"Yeah, they're real. Left one's ...hurt."
"Sounds like the kind of thing a guy who harvests organs for a living would say." He replied to the first, though there was amusement there and none of the previous trepidation.
At the speed of that ascension it was reflex for him to flare his wings, trying to slow down, though it didn't take him more than a moment to realize that it was a useless endeavor and to tuck them back down against his shoulders again, acting more as a shield than anything.
He had a sense of distance and of weight, and his sense of light had always been finely tuned, it made it easier to turn towards someone who was blocking a light if he couldn't quite pick out their voice in a crowd. He wasn't surprised by the voice across his mind, he'd dealt with telepaths before, even after Angel and her casual mind-reading of everyone. He'd learned early on how to pull full sentences together at the surface of his mind to make himself heard and understood: I'm sure it'd be super-impressive if I could see it
At the speed of that ascension it was reflex for him to flare his wings, trying to slow down, though it didn't take him more than a moment to realize that it was a useless endeavor and to tuck them back down against his shoulders again, acting more as a shield than anything.
He had a sense of distance and of weight, and his sense of light had always been finely tuned, it made it easier to turn towards someone who was blocking a light if he couldn't quite pick out their voice in a crowd. He wasn't surprised by the voice across his mind, he'd dealt with telepaths before, even after Angel and her casual mind-reading of everyone. He'd learned early on how to pull full sentences together at the surface of his mind to make himself heard and understood: I'm sure it'd be super-impressive if I could see it
"Spoken like one who was truly known acquaintance with organ harvesters." He responds gravely just before the winds take them, and with how deadpan he says it, it really is impossible to tell whether or not he was jesting.
Had he remembered how much of the ascent would be wasted on his companion, he might have opted for the less dramatic approach and simply teleported them straight into Avalon, expending more of his power but certainly getting it done faster.
But he has forgotten, at least momentarily, caught up instead in playing the part that his leader chose and trained him for. Months of living in sequestered isolation, being groomed by Magnus to assume his role as herald to the mutant messiah, has certainly left him with a tendency to err on the side of the imperious and overwrought. How much like puncturing a ballon, then, it is when his work has been for naught with a simple, blunt reminder from Iggy.
It would be almost comical to witness if Iggy could see him right now. For a good three or four second he doesn't even say anything, instead just hanging there in space, looking and feeling like nothing so much as a slowly-deflating balloon. It is like having ice water dumped on his head, a rare experience indeed for a mutant of his power. And when he finally finds his telepathic 'voice', even it comes across as quite a bit more subdued, more like he was before and perhaps even a touch embarrassed.
Ah, yes. My apologies. Allow me to make amends for my carelessness.
He reaches out with his thoughts to extend a psychic connection between them as before, this time allowing Iggy to not just see with his eyes but feel this moment with all his, Exodus's, senses, stopping just enough so the experience won't entirely overwhelm the boy. The connection is strong enough now that, if Iggy were to try, he would even be able to reach out himself and move Exodus's limbs as if they were his own.
Had he remembered how much of the ascent would be wasted on his companion, he might have opted for the less dramatic approach and simply teleported them straight into Avalon, expending more of his power but certainly getting it done faster.
But he has forgotten, at least momentarily, caught up instead in playing the part that his leader chose and trained him for. Months of living in sequestered isolation, being groomed by Magnus to assume his role as herald to the mutant messiah, has certainly left him with a tendency to err on the side of the imperious and overwrought. How much like puncturing a ballon, then, it is when his work has been for naught with a simple, blunt reminder from Iggy.
It would be almost comical to witness if Iggy could see him right now. For a good three or four second he doesn't even say anything, instead just hanging there in space, looking and feeling like nothing so much as a slowly-deflating balloon. It is like having ice water dumped on his head, a rare experience indeed for a mutant of his power. And when he finally finds his telepathic 'voice', even it comes across as quite a bit more subdued, more like he was before and perhaps even a touch embarrassed.
Ah, yes. My apologies. Allow me to make amends for my carelessness.
He reaches out with his thoughts to extend a psychic connection between them as before, this time allowing Iggy to not just see with his eyes but feel this moment with all his, Exodus's, senses, stopping just enough so the experience won't entirely overwhelm the boy. The connection is strong enough now that, if Iggy were to try, he would even be able to reach out himself and move Exodus's limbs as if they were his own.
Iggy deliberately made it easy for people to forget that he was blind, even his first boyfriend had forgotten from time to time, and so he wasn't at all surprised that Exodus had done the same.
The vertigo of overlapping senses caught him off-guard again, though not as badly as it had the first time, and he managed to settle into it more easily the second time.
Oh holy sh...oot.. Even now, years away from Angel and Nudge -and both of them adults now anyway- it was still reflex to neutralize his swearing, a habit that made his friends laugh every time it happened.
The vertigo of overlapping senses caught him off-guard again, though not as badly as it had the first time, and he managed to settle into it more easily the second time.
Oh holy sh...oot.. Even now, years away from Angel and Nudge -and both of them adults now anyway- it was still reflex to neutralize his swearing, a habit that made his friends laugh every time it happened.
An interesting oath indeed, goodsir Iggy. For all that he can maintain the aloof and stoic façade normally, mind-linked like this it's rather a bit harder for him to fully hide his amusement.
It's also a bit gratifying, yes. He helped Magneto build this sanctuary for their people; even knowing it to be a sin, Exodus cannot help but feel a bit of pride at the awe Iggy is experiencing to witness it now.
You are wondering, perhaps, how an object of this size is not noticed on Earth? Mind-linked as they are now, even the passing flicker of the question is enough for him to pick up on. Our leader possesses complete control over the electromagnetic spectrum. He has personally cloaked Avalon in a mantle of his own power. No telescope, no radar, no system on Earth can detect our sanctuary. Until closing to within a certain distance we are invisible even to the naked eye. As you may have noticed.
It's also a bit gratifying, yes. He helped Magneto build this sanctuary for their people; even knowing it to be a sin, Exodus cannot help but feel a bit of pride at the awe Iggy is experiencing to witness it now.
You are wondering, perhaps, how an object of this size is not noticed on Earth? Mind-linked as they are now, even the passing flicker of the question is enough for him to pick up on. Our leader possesses complete control over the electromagnetic spectrum. He has personally cloaked Avalon in a mantle of his own power. No telescope, no radar, no system on Earth can detect our sanctuary. Until closing to within a certain distance we are invisible even to the naked eye. As you may have noticed.
Younger siblings He explained, One of whom was psychic. Had to learn to keep it clean. Just never got out of the habit. Which was true enough on all counts.
The explanation was one that made sense to him, because he had been curious: Makes sense. It's got a ...weight to it. No atmosphere, no real weight, I know, but I don't have radar or sonar really He always called it that just because that was the easiest way to explain it to people, It's like how birds know to fly south for the winter. As best he'd been able to figure, it was some biological electrical, even electro-magnetic field
The explanation was one that made sense to him, because he had been curious: Makes sense. It's got a ...weight to it. No atmosphere, no real weight, I know, but I don't have radar or sonar really He always called it that just because that was the easiest way to explain it to people, It's like how birds know to fly south for the winter. As best he'd been able to figure, it was some biological electrical, even electro-magnetic field
And you still believe you are not one of my people? He still sounds amused, and also pleased now. Were you simply a mutate, even a second-generation one, your brother would have a mutation identical to your own. Mutates do not have the potential for genetic variation that our kind do.
Ordinarily, Iggy's explanation might have been difficult for him to parse out, coming as it does from his own personal understanding of his abilities, one only he could know. But connected like this, he understands what the boy speaks of as surely as Iggy himself can now understand how his own great powers function. Aye, I understand now. A secondary mutation, one that allows you to glimpse the electromagnetic spectrum as even I never could. A rare and valuable gift indeed, I think.
Come. He spreads his arms wide, drawing back enough to take control of his body again -- and Iggy's too, since the boy is still dependent on him for protection from the vacuum of space. You have seen what lies without Avalon; now you shall see within her.
Having glimpsed that brief, surreal glimpse of Avalon not just as he sees it but as Iggy sees it too, using his own unique senses, he wonders if healing the boy is even possible. Because he has considered it, right from the start, whether his abilities to reconstruct tissue damage might be something he could use to help him. But now he is not sure if doing such would not cause more harm than good to him. Clearly Iggy has had plenty of time to adjust to his current perception of the world around him.
Pulling his young pilgrim along with him, Exodus reaches out to bid one of the great ports open and permit them entry. From there it is not too long before Iggy will find his feet back on solid ground at last - or rather, a metal grating of a floor - and find himself able to move and breathe again normally.
Ordinarily, Iggy's explanation might have been difficult for him to parse out, coming as it does from his own personal understanding of his abilities, one only he could know. But connected like this, he understands what the boy speaks of as surely as Iggy himself can now understand how his own great powers function. Aye, I understand now. A secondary mutation, one that allows you to glimpse the electromagnetic spectrum as even I never could. A rare and valuable gift indeed, I think.
Come. He spreads his arms wide, drawing back enough to take control of his body again -- and Iggy's too, since the boy is still dependent on him for protection from the vacuum of space. You have seen what lies without Avalon; now you shall see within her.
Having glimpsed that brief, surreal glimpse of Avalon not just as he sees it but as Iggy sees it too, using his own unique senses, he wonders if healing the boy is even possible. Because he has considered it, right from the start, whether his abilities to reconstruct tissue damage might be something he could use to help him. But now he is not sure if doing such would not cause more harm than good to him. Clearly Iggy has had plenty of time to adjust to his current perception of the world around him.
Pulling his young pilgrim along with him, Exodus reaches out to bid one of the great ports open and permit them entry. From there it is not too long before Iggy will find his feet back on solid ground at last - or rather, a metal grating of a floor - and find himself able to move and breathe again normally.
Edited (fixing an italics goof) 2015-03-29 20:55 (UTC)
He thought about trying to explain that only Gazzy and Angel had been related by blood and the rest of them just called each other family by necessity, and by blood spilled to keep each other safe, but it wasn't worth the trouble.
So instead he just settled once they were inside, wings ruffling for a moment, stretching again before settling comfortably against his shoulders, not quite a shield, but definitely giving him a bigger profile, he often used them the way cats used their whiskers, to gauge the size of doorways and the proximity of other objects.
"So, time for the grand tour? Hope there's refreshments if it's more than an hour long." That was typical of Iggy, almost-wry, definitely amused, and making the most of the situation.
His vision had been damaged, completely removed, rather, in the efforts of giving him better night-vision, and once, years prior and a world away, he'd had the night vision come back, for a while, at a time when everyone was getting powers and no one had been able to explain why. For the most part they'd worn off, his had, and he was actually glad for it, as it had been disorienting, and even downright painful in the daytime.
So instead he just settled once they were inside, wings ruffling for a moment, stretching again before settling comfortably against his shoulders, not quite a shield, but definitely giving him a bigger profile, he often used them the way cats used their whiskers, to gauge the size of doorways and the proximity of other objects.
"So, time for the grand tour? Hope there's refreshments if it's more than an hour long." That was typical of Iggy, almost-wry, definitely amused, and making the most of the situation.
His vision had been damaged, completely removed, rather, in the efforts of giving him better night-vision, and once, years prior and a world away, he'd had the night vision come back, for a while, at a time when everyone was getting powers and no one had been able to explain why. For the most part they'd worn off, his had, and he was actually glad for it, as it had been disorienting, and even downright painful in the daytime.
Perhaps it may not have been as much trouble as the boy thinks; for all the importance he places upon his heritage as a mutant, Exodus understands well too what it means to find family in those whom one has fought beside, or sometimes bled beside.
Having been in extended contact with Iggy's mind, he has the good sense to give the youth ample space to spread his wings, now that he has no reason any longer to hide them. It is interesting, observing the way he moves with them; though Iggy cannot know it, his own first uniform incorporated a pair of exceedingly ornate spaulders in the shape of wings. The spaulders certainly served their purpose from a ceremonial standpoint, but moving about in them, particularly in narrow hallways, had been a continual exercise in frustration. What a difference being born with such appendages can make.
"Do you require refreshment? If you are parched from the journey, we can always make the first stop the dining hall." As cracking wise is Iggy at his most natural, so too perhaps is this Exodus at his most distilled -- matter-of-fact in the way only a man born before irony became commonplace can be, literal well past the point of being simply a fault, but ultimately trying to do right by those under his charge.
Having been in extended contact with Iggy's mind, he has the good sense to give the youth ample space to spread his wings, now that he has no reason any longer to hide them. It is interesting, observing the way he moves with them; though Iggy cannot know it, his own first uniform incorporated a pair of exceedingly ornate spaulders in the shape of wings. The spaulders certainly served their purpose from a ceremonial standpoint, but moving about in them, particularly in narrow hallways, had been a continual exercise in frustration. What a difference being born with such appendages can make.
"Do you require refreshment? If you are parched from the journey, we can always make the first stop the dining hall." As cracking wise is Iggy at his most natural, so too perhaps is this Exodus at his most distilled -- matter-of-fact in the way only a man born before irony became commonplace can be, literal well past the point of being simply a fault, but ultimately trying to do right by those under his charge.
He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish, but unembarrassed as his stomach grumbled audibly at the prospect of food, "That's actually probably a good idea." He replied, "Part of the 2% bird is the metabolism. I don't exactly burn calories just standing still, but sometimes it seems like it."
Two extra limbs and a handful of extra or altered organs needed extra energy to operate. Which was something all of the Flock had figured out early on, and why most of them were snackers by nature, it just came with the territory.
Two extra limbs and a handful of extra or altered organs needed extra energy to operate. Which was something all of the Flock had figured out early on, and why most of them were snackers by nature, it just came with the territory.
He chuckles heartily, realizing only belatedly that it is a reaction more suited to the crusader he was than the herald he now is. Fortunately, he thinks this boy is one he no longer has to impress with grand speech and gestures. "Say no more. If refreshment is what you require, then refreshment you shall have."
Saying so, he claps Iggy on the shoulder and, with a thought, teleports the both of them into Avalon's mess hall. It's large, but also largely empty, with only a few Acolytes conversing over meals.
All the conversation dies the moment Exodus and his intended recruit materializes.
"This way." He leads the way as though guiding someone who could see and not a blind person, confident that Iggy's hidden ability to perceive the electromagnetic spectrum would allow the youth to follow his movements as easily as if he could see. "You will find the food to be plain fare, but everything required for nutritional balance is here."
"Uh, what would you like?" asks a rough voice. The speaker is a large man, larger than either of them, but his tone is almost meek, and he keeps stealing glances at Exodus, something Bennet himself pretends not to notice. Just his luck to have one of the oafish Kleinstock brothers on kitchen duty today.
Saying so, he claps Iggy on the shoulder and, with a thought, teleports the both of them into Avalon's mess hall. It's large, but also largely empty, with only a few Acolytes conversing over meals.
All the conversation dies the moment Exodus and his intended recruit materializes.
"This way." He leads the way as though guiding someone who could see and not a blind person, confident that Iggy's hidden ability to perceive the electromagnetic spectrum would allow the youth to follow his movements as easily as if he could see. "You will find the food to be plain fare, but everything required for nutritional balance is here."
"Uh, what would you like?" asks a rough voice. The speaker is a large man, larger than either of them, but his tone is almost meek, and he keeps stealing glances at Exodus, something Bennet himself pretends not to notice. Just his luck to have one of the oafish Kleinstock brothers on kitchen duty today.
The teleportation made Iggy wobble just a little on the landing, like someone expecting another step in a staircase and not having one there. But he recovered quickly enough, wings flaring just briefly before settling again.
He followed easily enough, footfalls and voice were enough, and the background noise of conversations picking up again helped him fill out the space. He didn't know exactly where tables and chairs were, not at a distance, but he'd be able to tell as he got closer to one, only maybe before he actually walked into it.
Luckily the path was clear, and the second voice was also easy enough to focus on, "Uh..." He blinked, he hadn't actually been expecting that question, and the response that came out was almost reflexive: "Peanut butter sandwich?" A pause, "Two peanut butter sandwiches?"
He followed easily enough, footfalls and voice were enough, and the background noise of conversations picking up again helped him fill out the space. He didn't know exactly where tables and chairs were, not at a distance, but he'd be able to tell as he got closer to one, only maybe before he actually walked into it.
Luckily the path was clear, and the second voice was also easy enough to focus on, "Uh..." He blinked, he hadn't actually been expecting that question, and the response that came out was almost reflexive: "Peanut butter sandwich?" A pause, "Two peanut butter sandwiches?"
Privately, Bennet is impressed when Iggy neither becomes disoriented nor even starts babbling questions, the two most common reactions he's observed from those experiencing teleportation for the first time. Perhaps the lad has simply experienced such effects before, but such sturdy constitution is still to be commended.
It's more than he can say for Harlan Kleinstock, who at present is eyeing Iggy with a squinty-eyed, piggish suspicion, as though he's not sure yet if this kid is trying to play a joke on him or not. There are no sandwiches laid out, peanut butter or otherwise. There's plenty of dehydrated fruits and vegetables, shelf-stabilized pork chops, and a crudely-made pizza. But no sandwiches.
"You tryin' to play head games with me, chicken wings? You think you're being smart? You want me to kick your face in?"
"You will do no such thing, Harlan." Exodus's voice is mild compared to the rough baritone of Harlan Kleinstock, but ther's a note of dangerous warning there that makes the huge mutant back off instantly. His eyes flare as he pins the junior Acolyte with his gaze, and what he says next comes out more as command than suggestion. "I'm sure we have some of this peanut butter among the condiments in the pantry. Why don't you fetch some, that I might forgive this momentary lapse in decorum?"
"O-Of course, Exodus," Kleinstock stammers. "I'll get right on that." And he doesn't waste time either, practically tearing out of there. Unlike Iggy, he has seen personally what Bennet can do to those who displease him.
It's more than he can say for Harlan Kleinstock, who at present is eyeing Iggy with a squinty-eyed, piggish suspicion, as though he's not sure yet if this kid is trying to play a joke on him or not. There are no sandwiches laid out, peanut butter or otherwise. There's plenty of dehydrated fruits and vegetables, shelf-stabilized pork chops, and a crudely-made pizza. But no sandwiches.
"You tryin' to play head games with me, chicken wings? You think you're being smart? You want me to kick your face in?"
"You will do no such thing, Harlan." Exodus's voice is mild compared to the rough baritone of Harlan Kleinstock, but ther's a note of dangerous warning there that makes the huge mutant back off instantly. His eyes flare as he pins the junior Acolyte with his gaze, and what he says next comes out more as command than suggestion. "I'm sure we have some of this peanut butter among the condiments in the pantry. Why don't you fetch some, that I might forgive this momentary lapse in decorum?"
"O-Of course, Exodus," Kleinstock stammers. "I'll get right on that." And he doesn't waste time either, practically tearing out of there. Unlike Iggy, he has seen personally what Bennet can do to those who displease him.
Honestly he just hadn't been able to sort through the individual food smells yet, and as far as he knew, peanut butter sandwiches were a cafeteria staple.
He managed, barely, to bite back his initial response, which was to correct the taxonomy, because anyone who'd ever seen a bird before should be able to tell that what he had were raptor wings and not chicken, wrong color and wrong shape. He didn't, however, because he recognized the tone even before the threat came. That was the same tone, almost down to the diction, that the pack of assholes at his high school had used. The type of people who would leave books, book bags and occasionally desks out where he'd trip over them and had, on one memorable occasion, sent him ass-over-teakettle down the front steps.
The tension that had shot up his spine, causing him to draw up a little and back a little to a better, more solid, footing was slow to dissipate even once the speaker was gone, "Helluva welcome." Was all he said, sounding mostly wry, but also a little wary.
He managed, barely, to bite back his initial response, which was to correct the taxonomy, because anyone who'd ever seen a bird before should be able to tell that what he had were raptor wings and not chicken, wrong color and wrong shape. He didn't, however, because he recognized the tone even before the threat came. That was the same tone, almost down to the diction, that the pack of assholes at his high school had used. The type of people who would leave books, book bags and occasionally desks out where he'd trip over them and had, on one memorable occasion, sent him ass-over-teakettle down the front steps.
The tension that had shot up his spine, causing him to draw up a little and back a little to a better, more solid, footing was slow to dissipate even once the speaker was gone, "Helluva welcome." Was all he said, sounding mostly wry, but also a little wary.
Incidents like this remind him of how much some of his 'brothers' can truly test his patience. No small wonder that Magneto treats the lot of them like children, he thinks, when there are those among them like the Kleinstocks who act like just that, despite being grown men.
And then there is Iggy, who in spite of his chosen moniker and his youth might be described as the exact opposite. He chooses his words carefully. "Aye, you will find that not all who have accepted Magneto's offer of sanctuary and come here are... understanding, of the honor." Worthy is the term he would have used, but despite his authority, Magneto's voice is still the final say on Avalon. He is loathe to admit it, but more than once he has found himself overruled by his liege and ordered to bring here pilgrims he would personally have chosen to pass over. The Kleinstocks, louts though they are, aren't even the worst of Avalon's denizens. That dubious honor would go to Magneto's original recruits for his Brotherhood, Toad and Mastermind and the Blob.
The thought of Iggy finding himself alone in a hall with the likes of them turns his stomach, so he does something he does not do often: he reaches for Iggy's shoulder and squats down slightly, speaking to the younger mutant as an equal rather than a child.
"When I touched your mind, I saw that you have known men like this before in your life. Harlan Kleinstock and his brothers are not the only ones here you will find here who will fall short of your expectations. Do not be afraid, for far more of Avalon's people are good folk than ill, but trust your instincts. They have served you well in the past, and should you choose to stay, they will serve you well here too."
He hopes that Iggy does not let this experience taint his experience here, but if he does, he will still honor the promise he made to the boy. And in the meantime... rising back up, he looks to the few Acolytes still remaining in the cafeteria, finds one among them he trusts to make a better impression, and reaches out to that one with a silent request. That one Acolyte rises from his meal, obligingly headed for the pantry as Exodus has asked him to.
Releasing Iggy's shoulder, he rises back up, tall and proud once more. "Now, let us find you a seat. The sandwiches you requested will be here for you soon, and better company with them."
And then there is Iggy, who in spite of his chosen moniker and his youth might be described as the exact opposite. He chooses his words carefully. "Aye, you will find that not all who have accepted Magneto's offer of sanctuary and come here are... understanding, of the honor." Worthy is the term he would have used, but despite his authority, Magneto's voice is still the final say on Avalon. He is loathe to admit it, but more than once he has found himself overruled by his liege and ordered to bring here pilgrims he would personally have chosen to pass over. The Kleinstocks, louts though they are, aren't even the worst of Avalon's denizens. That dubious honor would go to Magneto's original recruits for his Brotherhood, Toad and Mastermind and the Blob.
The thought of Iggy finding himself alone in a hall with the likes of them turns his stomach, so he does something he does not do often: he reaches for Iggy's shoulder and squats down slightly, speaking to the younger mutant as an equal rather than a child.
"When I touched your mind, I saw that you have known men like this before in your life. Harlan Kleinstock and his brothers are not the only ones here you will find here who will fall short of your expectations. Do not be afraid, for far more of Avalon's people are good folk than ill, but trust your instincts. They have served you well in the past, and should you choose to stay, they will serve you well here too."
He hopes that Iggy does not let this experience taint his experience here, but if he does, he will still honor the promise he made to the boy. And in the meantime... rising back up, he looks to the few Acolytes still remaining in the cafeteria, finds one among them he trusts to make a better impression, and reaches out to that one with a silent request. That one Acolyte rises from his meal, obligingly headed for the pantry as Exodus has asked him to.
Releasing Iggy's shoulder, he rises back up, tall and proud once more. "Now, let us find you a seat. The sandwiches you requested will be here for you soon, and better company with them."
There was a twitch of a smile, just as wry as his statement had been, though less wary, and that initial spike of adrenaline and tension was slowly easing, "There's always going to be guys like that. But somehow I'll probably keep being surprised by it." Because he, like many, wanted to believe the best of people, even despite mostly only experiencing the worst in them.
He nodded at the statement that followed, "Sitting's probably a good idea, not entirely sure I've got my sea legs back yet. Always had a delayed reaction to the side-effects of teleportation." Which answered the question as to whether he'd traveled that way before.
He nodded at the statement that followed, "Sitting's probably a good idea, not entirely sure I've got my sea legs back yet. Always had a delayed reaction to the side-effects of teleportation." Which answered the question as to whether he'd traveled that way before.
The lad's hardier than he knows, and he too smiles, at least as much as he ever lets himself smile, before motioning Iggy forward gently with his hand on the youth's shoulder. "The Kleinstocks are of sturdy stock in battle, but outside of it, not good for much. But they serve their purpose here, as do we all." A hint, there, that there is more to Avalon than simply sanctuary.
He lifts his eyebrows at the explanation, obtained at last without need to ransack Iggy's memories wholesale. "Ah, I had wondered if you had experienced something like it before," he admits readily, pulling open a seat for him and doing it loudly enough that he can find it on his own. "One of your brothers, perhaps, or an ally?" He is curious about this 'Flock', and has been since the start. If it is possible, he would gladly offer all of Iggy's brothers a home here.
He lifts his eyebrows at the explanation, obtained at last without need to ransack Iggy's memories wholesale. "Ah, I had wondered if you had experienced something like it before," he admits readily, pulling open a seat for him and doing it loudly enough that he can find it on his own. "One of your brothers, perhaps, or an ally?" He is curious about this 'Flock', and has been since the start. If it is possible, he would gladly offer all of Iggy's brothers a home here.
"An ally, few years back." And a world away for that mater, the sort of thing that he wasn't sure if it had actually happened or if it was something he'd made up to cover a more traumatic experience, but he didn't think that was the case.
"None of us ever picked up that trick, but if anyone was going to it'd be Angel." It wasn't necessarily that she had more powers than the rest of them, she'd just had them to start with, the telepathy at least, and she gained -and adapted to- the new ones more quickly than the rest of the Flock did. A little flicker of a smile followed, "Or maybe her brother, Gazzy. Teleportation seems like the kind of thing the Gasman would pick up."
He scratched a hand through his hair, "Max can fly over 300 miles per hour, Mach 1, we think, but never really tested it. Fang can be invisible, as long as he's quiet. Nudge has this emotional imprint thing, she can tell what someone was feeling, and she's some kind of tech genius. Gazzy's better at explosives than I am, and I'm good at them, and Angel's psychic, always has been."
"None of us ever picked up that trick, but if anyone was going to it'd be Angel." It wasn't necessarily that she had more powers than the rest of them, she'd just had them to start with, the telepathy at least, and she gained -and adapted to- the new ones more quickly than the rest of the Flock did. A little flicker of a smile followed, "Or maybe her brother, Gazzy. Teleportation seems like the kind of thing the Gasman would pick up."
He scratched a hand through his hair, "Max can fly over 300 miles per hour, Mach 1, we think, but never really tested it. Fang can be invisible, as long as he's quiet. Nudge has this emotional imprint thing, she can tell what someone was feeling, and she's some kind of tech genius. Gazzy's better at explosives than I am, and I'm good at them, and Angel's psychic, always has been."
"A remarkable array of companions, by any measure," he notes, and means it: their powers alone would have been impressive enough, but what really leaves an impression on him is the way the boy's face seems to light up when speaking of them, his tone and gestures both becoming more animated. That's the passion that comes from having know true brothers, and it makes him wonder anew what could have happened to force Iggy to separate from them. It's clear to him now that the lad wouldn't leave such people behind by choice.
"Were you all told these gifts were the result of... how did you put it, 'recombinant DNA hybrids'?" He doesn't laugh, to do so would be to mock the boy, but he cannot help but feel a certain incredulity, that these children could find each other and fight together without even knowing who they were. But then, from the glimpses he got, they spent their formative years in the custody of an institution not unlike Weapon X. It only makes sense they would have been kept in the dark.
Footsteps are approaching them now, lighter on the floor than Bennet's, and he lifts his head and smiles, "Ah, and here are the sandwiches you requested now, along with some milk to go with them. Good man, Chrome. Sit and speak with us a while, I would have our guest know Acolytes who aren't the Kleinstocks." They share a laugh, and Bennet gestures with one hand to the man now pulling up a chair before he remembers once more that the motion is unnecessary. "Iggy, this is Allen Yuric who calls himself Chrome. He has been with our lord longer than even I, and his powers are a constant boon to our cause."
"Nice to meet you." Chrome's voice is polite if flippant, with just the hint of some not-readily-identifiable European accent somewhere in there. "You're not, uh, Angel's little brother, are you?"
"Were you all told these gifts were the result of... how did you put it, 'recombinant DNA hybrids'?" He doesn't laugh, to do so would be to mock the boy, but he cannot help but feel a certain incredulity, that these children could find each other and fight together without even knowing who they were. But then, from the glimpses he got, they spent their formative years in the custody of an institution not unlike Weapon X. It only makes sense they would have been kept in the dark.
Footsteps are approaching them now, lighter on the floor than Bennet's, and he lifts his head and smiles, "Ah, and here are the sandwiches you requested now, along with some milk to go with them. Good man, Chrome. Sit and speak with us a while, I would have our guest know Acolytes who aren't the Kleinstocks." They share a laugh, and Bennet gestures with one hand to the man now pulling up a chair before he remembers once more that the motion is unnecessary. "Iggy, this is Allen Yuric who calls himself Chrome. He has been with our lord longer than even I, and his powers are a constant boon to our cause."
"Nice to meet you." Chrome's voice is polite if flippant, with just the hint of some not-readily-identifiable European accent somewhere in there. "You're not, uh, Angel's little brother, are you?"
Edited 2015-04-13 21:29 (UTC)
He nodded at the question, "Yeah, gene splicing. Hybrid mostly explains the physical changes, but we don't know what all else they did." And most of it had been while they were still embryos, so it wasn't like they were given a list of possible traits.
Another shrug that was mostly wings followed, "I saw some of the failures." He added, a little more quietly, "Before..." A vague gesture towards his face, "And we ran in to more of them after we got out. Most of them didn't live long enough for powers to develop. The DNA unravels after a few years, we're the only ones who haven't had our genes start falling apart like an old sweater."
He looked up at the approaching footsteps, and even smiled, giving a nod at the introduction, though his brow creased a little at the question, "Older brother, and only technically. But I'm pretty sure we're not talking about the same Angel, unless yours is a sixteen year old girl." A pause then as he calculated, "No, sh...oot, she'd be seventeen now, going on eighteen."
Another shrug that was mostly wings followed, "I saw some of the failures." He added, a little more quietly, "Before..." A vague gesture towards his face, "And we ran in to more of them after we got out. Most of them didn't live long enough for powers to develop. The DNA unravels after a few years, we're the only ones who haven't had our genes start falling apart like an old sweater."
He looked up at the approaching footsteps, and even smiled, giving a nod at the introduction, though his brow creased a little at the question, "Older brother, and only technically. But I'm pretty sure we're not talking about the same Angel, unless yours is a sixteen year old girl." A pause then as he calculated, "No, sh...oot, she'd be seventeen now, going on eighteen."
He listens to the explanation thoughtfully, brow furrowing at the mention of gene splicing, and then, when Iggy speaks of his brothers and sisters who didn't make it. "If this facility you speak of still stands, I could learn the answers you seek by going there, but otherwise, we will have to rely on greater minds than my own here. The procedures you speak of are not unknown to me, but I am no scientist."
Lifting a hand to his chin, he considers this new information, "It is possible, of course, that you were right from the start in your belief that you and your friends are simply mutates." He is skeptical when he says that though, and a grimace flickers across his face that he is glad the boy did not have to witness. "This unstable DNA you speak of would indicate a mutate procedure, but if you and your friends were mutates as well, your powers would have burnt you out by now too. Perhaps the mutates were attempts to clone you and your siblings."
He is glad that Chrome's arrival gives them a chance to speak of other matters, for the prospect of Iggy being a mutate is one he does not want to dwell on, not when he's already begun to consider the boy one of his own. And certainly Chrome's question provides that, he looks towards Exodus in confusion and this time it is his turn to indulge in a rare wry chuckle. "Do not look to me for answers, Chrome, you should have known better than to accuse our guest of being one of Xavier's brood from the start." He doesn't sound particularly displeased though, and he quickly explains, "'Angel' is also the name of a mutant who stands among our enemies. Not your Angel, though, have no fear of that. This Angel is a pampered young dilettante named Warren Worthington the Third."
"Yeah, okay, I had that coming, his feathers are the wrong color, but c'mon," Chrome protests good-naturedly. "How many guys with wings do we meet?" Turning back to Iggy, he starts to extend his hand, but stops when Exodus raises his hand, blinking in confusion momentarily before it clicks. "Anyway, glad to know you're on our side. That Angel's tried to take me for a ride, and I can fly, but that high?" He shakes his head. "Not this kid."
Lifting a hand to his chin, he considers this new information, "It is possible, of course, that you were right from the start in your belief that you and your friends are simply mutates." He is skeptical when he says that though, and a grimace flickers across his face that he is glad the boy did not have to witness. "This unstable DNA you speak of would indicate a mutate procedure, but if you and your friends were mutates as well, your powers would have burnt you out by now too. Perhaps the mutates were attempts to clone you and your siblings."
He is glad that Chrome's arrival gives them a chance to speak of other matters, for the prospect of Iggy being a mutate is one he does not want to dwell on, not when he's already begun to consider the boy one of his own. And certainly Chrome's question provides that, he looks towards Exodus in confusion and this time it is his turn to indulge in a rare wry chuckle. "Do not look to me for answers, Chrome, you should have known better than to accuse our guest of being one of Xavier's brood from the start." He doesn't sound particularly displeased though, and he quickly explains, "'Angel' is also the name of a mutant who stands among our enemies. Not your Angel, though, have no fear of that. This Angel is a pampered young dilettante named Warren Worthington the Third."
"Yeah, okay, I had that coming, his feathers are the wrong color, but c'mon," Chrome protests good-naturedly. "How many guys with wings do we meet?" Turning back to Iggy, he starts to extend his hand, but stops when Exodus raises his hand, blinking in confusion momentarily before it clicks. "Anyway, glad to know you're on our side. That Angel's tried to take me for a ride, and I can fly, but that high?" He shakes his head. "Not this kid."
"Yeah," He shook his head, explaining between bites, "I've met guys like that, Chesterfield Chesterfield the third of the Oxford Chesterfields." Hadn't actually been the guy's name, but it had definitely been something similar, "And I don't take people that high, I mean, I can process the air that thin, but I know other people can't and honestly I shouldn't even be able to lift anybody at all, hollow bones don't lend themselves to that kind of strength."
An easy shrug, "But something about muscle density or fibers or something, I don't know, I just know that I can carry people and don't question it too much, since I'm pretty sure that's when I'd start dropping them."
Everything Exodus had said previously, the clones and the power burnout, it sounded familiar, considering how they'd run into an actual clone of Max before, but he was, likewise, happy enough to table that discussion for later.
A name had caught his attention, though, and so he asked: "Xavier, though, he's the one operating out of New York, isn't he?" He knew the name, and it was going to nag at him that he didn't know why.
An easy shrug, "But something about muscle density or fibers or something, I don't know, I just know that I can carry people and don't question it too much, since I'm pretty sure that's when I'd start dropping them."
Everything Exodus had said previously, the clones and the power burnout, it sounded familiar, considering how they'd run into an actual clone of Max before, but he was, likewise, happy enough to table that discussion for later.
A name had caught his attention, though, and so he asked: "Xavier, though, he's the one operating out of New York, isn't he?" He knew the name, and it was going to nag at him that he didn't know why.
"Yeah, you won't find too many guys like that up here on Avalon," Chrome admits, not at all apologetically. "Maybe with the X-folks, but most of us up here didn't get to afford roman numerals after our names. Well, except maybe Cortez." He laughs, but this time Exodus doesn't, and he winces. "Righty, sorry, I forget we don't talk about him anymore."
Leaning forward, he reaches for Iggy's paper plate, nudges it a little so the kid knows what he's doing. "Anyway, here, let me show you what I do. Put one of your hands on the plate, you'll feel it."
He waits until Iggy's ready and, after getting the okay from Exodus, turns the plate from styrofoam to solid gold under his fingers. Then into diamond, and then back to styrofoam. Seeing the kid's reaction, he grins.
"Pretty cool, right? If you were wondering how a bunch of muties in space pay for anything, now you know." He leans back in his seat, stretching out catlike. He's clearly the type who doesn't mind showing off, but when Iggy mentions Xavier, he's quick to straighten back up.
Chrome doesn't answer right away. Instead he looks to Exodus, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Bennet's got that tight-jawed look he's seen before, the one he usually sees when Cortez or Xavier get brought up. But it's him who answers, with the kind of weary resignation in his voice of a man who knows he was eventually going to have to talk about the elephant in the room sooner or later.
"Aye, he is," Exodus confirms, folding his arms, "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. He presents himself to the public as an advocate of mutant rights issues, that is probably where you have heard of him before. What you will not have heard is that he himself is a mutant. A telepath, like myself, except with even greater strength. He is probably the single most powerful telepath alive today."
Leaning forward, he reaches for Iggy's paper plate, nudges it a little so the kid knows what he's doing. "Anyway, here, let me show you what I do. Put one of your hands on the plate, you'll feel it."
He waits until Iggy's ready and, after getting the okay from Exodus, turns the plate from styrofoam to solid gold under his fingers. Then into diamond, and then back to styrofoam. Seeing the kid's reaction, he grins.
"Pretty cool, right? If you were wondering how a bunch of muties in space pay for anything, now you know." He leans back in his seat, stretching out catlike. He's clearly the type who doesn't mind showing off, but when Iggy mentions Xavier, he's quick to straighten back up.
Chrome doesn't answer right away. Instead he looks to Exodus, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Bennet's got that tight-jawed look he's seen before, the one he usually sees when Cortez or Xavier get brought up. But it's him who answers, with the kind of weary resignation in his voice of a man who knows he was eventually going to have to talk about the elephant in the room sooner or later.
"Aye, he is," Exodus confirms, folding his arms, "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. He presents himself to the public as an advocate of mutant rights issues, that is probably where you have heard of him before. What you will not have heard is that he himself is a mutant. A telepath, like myself, except with even greater strength. He is probably the single most powerful telepath alive today."
"Okay, that? Is awesome." He replied with a laugh, "And honestly the thought hadn't even crossed my mind." He knew enough about science fiction to know that the good space stations were self-sufficient, at least to a point, he just hadn't had a chance to actually stop and think about it yet.
His second sandwich was gone by the time Exodus had explained about Xavier, even as brief as that explanation was, and he dusted the crumbs from his fingers, nodding once, "Probably where I heard him, or heard about him, yeah." Even knowing that, though, the niggling feeling hadn't gone away, but he put it aside for the time being, knowing that it would sort itself out eventually.
His second sandwich was gone by the time Exodus had explained about Xavier, even as brief as that explanation was, and he dusted the crumbs from his fingers, nodding once, "Probably where I heard him, or heard about him, yeah." Even knowing that, though, the niggling feeling hadn't gone away, but he put it aside for the time being, knowing that it would sort itself out eventually.
"Oh, if you think that's awesome, just wait 'til the day you're in a firefight and I get to transmute your skin to adamantium. The look on their faces when the bullets start ricocheting, it's amazing." He laughs, only for the laugh to get cut short when Exodus levels a glare in his direction, and he hastily adds, "Uh, I mean, if you ever decide you're okay with being in one of your combat units. There's plenty of Acolytes that don't."
Exodus himself sighs, for the truth is not so much 'plenty' as 'one in ten'. Maybe. For good or ill, theirs is a home that must be defended often, and not even just from humans. "Brother Chrome brings up a good point, however suddenly. Iggy, if you decide you do wish to stay here, you should know that the day may come when you are needed to defend your home. Avalon is our sanctuary, but she is not impregnable, and invaders have breached her before -- the followers of Xavier among them. He commands a private mutant strike force and has sent them up here before. It is not inconceivable that he might attempt to do so again."
Exodus himself sighs, for the truth is not so much 'plenty' as 'one in ten'. Maybe. For good or ill, theirs is a home that must be defended often, and not even just from humans. "Brother Chrome brings up a good point, however suddenly. Iggy, if you decide you do wish to stay here, you should know that the day may come when you are needed to defend your home. Avalon is our sanctuary, but she is not impregnable, and invaders have breached her before -- the followers of Xavier among them. He commands a private mutant strike force and has sent them up here before. It is not inconceivable that he might attempt to do so again."
He tilted his head, not quite a dismissal and not quite a shrug, "I'm not so good in a fight. One on one, enclosed space without too much of a crowd to confuse the echoes and I can do okay for myself, but more than that?" He did shake his head then, "Better if I keep out of the way." He didn't refer to himself as a liability, but mostly that was because others had told him not to do so often enough that he knew it bothered them more than it bothered him.
He was also understating his abilities, although not by much. He did better than just okay for himself, and could be downright brutal in making sure an opponent stayed down. He wasn't the sort to start fights, but if one came his way he finished it as quickly and as completely as possible.
An easy, if somewhat guarded, smile followed, "Besides, jumping the gun a little, don't even know if I'm going to be welcome except as a guest."
He was also understating his abilities, although not by much. He did better than just okay for himself, and could be downright brutal in making sure an opponent stayed down. He wasn't the sort to start fights, but if one came his way he finished it as quickly and as completely as possible.
An easy, if somewhat guarded, smile followed, "Besides, jumping the gun a little, don't even know if I'm going to be welcome except as a guest."
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