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RebalHermione

08/02/2021 02:09 PM 

Cho Chang(Single)

Full name:Cho Chang Other names:Chang,Cho Gender:Female ♀ Age:19 Nationality:English, Great Britain Significant other:Noone Yet Weapons:WandQuote:You're a really good teacher, Harry.

RebalHermione

08/02/2021 02:05 PM 

Ginevra Molly Weasley(Single)

Full name:Ginevra Molly Weasley Other names:Gin,Weaslette Gender:Female ♀ Age:18 Nationality:English, Great Britain Significant other:Noone Yet Weapons:WandQuote:"His Eyes Are As Green As A Fresh Pickled Toad,/ His Hair Is As Dark As A Blackboard./I Wish He Was Mine, He's Really Divine,/ The Hero Who Conquered The Dark Lord."

RebalHermione

08/02/2021 01:59 PM 

Hermione Granger(Single)

Full name:Hermione Jean Granger Other names:Mione,Hermy,hermz,Mudblood,Granger,Miss Know It All Gender:Female ♀ Age:20 Nationality:English, Great Britain   Significant other:Noone Yet Weapons:WandQuote:“Fear of a name only increases the fear itself”

πŸ”₯ ʟΙͺα΄ ΙͺΙ΄Ι’ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ α΄…Ιͺα΄ α΄€ πŸ”₯

08/01/2021 11:28 PM 

πŸ”₯ Living Dead Diva's Rules πŸ”₯
Current mood:  angsty

● 1ST & ONLY LIVING DEAD DIVA KAT MARIE MYERS● NO DRAMA ZONE OR BULLYING ALLOWED β— PROUD MEMBER OF OUR FAMILY & ALLIES RPG β— I WILL NOT ACCEPT ANY WRESTLERS, BDSM, S&L, INCEST, SEXUAL THEMES, SMUT, EROTICA, DRUGS, MAFIA, TEEN WOLF, TWD, SOA, OOC MINORS, DRAMA QUEENS OR DRAMA KINGS,  NO RACISM β— NO BULLYING ALLOWED β— VERY HAPPILY MARRIED TO & DEEPLY IN LOVE WITH MY VERY HANDSOME HUSBAND MICHAEL GEORGE MYERS● PROUD WIFE & MOTHER 

The Diamond Standard

08/01/2021 11:01 PM 

Killer Queen

She's a Killer QueenGunpowder, gelatinDynamite with a laser beamGuaranteed to blow your mindAnytimeLace upon gilding, velvet accented with gold. Opulence hardly seemed the appropriate word. Ostentatious was more fitting, perhaps. It was a mockery of a bygone era, bastardized to suit a fetishized idealism. To the tune of softly playing parlor music, a small social was being carried out. Antique furniture was violated by the scantily covered posteriors that rested upon them. Women were everywhere, their most intimate parts barely covered, but still readily available for the wandering hand's amusement. An even mixture of black and white themed corsets exaggerated their feminine forms, accented with sparkling jewels and their hair drawn back in complex mixture of braiding and curls; they were too beautiful to be real, as though crafted by Pygmalion himself. Strewn about with glasses of champagne in hand, they flocked around the much smaller population of men. These gaggles laughed and fawned upon each man, treating him as though he was the most interesting human being in the world. And, in a sense, he was.The Hellfire Club's roster was composed of the most powerful and influential people on the planet, after all. Politicians and captains of industry. The crème de la crème. The most upper crust of the upper crust. To be a member of the Hellfire Club was a prestige limited to only a few, inherited by others. Unbeknownst to most of these talking money bags, however, there was an organization within the organization. It was called the Inner Circle. Themed after a chess board, the Inner Circle was divided into two courts: White and Black, with ranks ranging from King and Queen to Pawn. Though united in their ambition, the Courts often competed for control of the Inner Circle. It was a little game they played while covertly ruling the world. One such member was about to make her entrance to the social gathering. Unlike the sea of flesh, the White Queen was not some vapid arm adornment. Wearing a white lace mask, she remained--by comparison--overly dressed. Hair so blonde it bordered on white, her bobbed hair was the least of her appeal. Alabaster skin and ocean blue eyes, she was a regal woman by her own right. But it was the clothes that really made the woman. Her signature white corset hugged her frame while her pale shoulders were shrouded in a white, fur-lined cape. Thigh high stiletto boots completed the White Queen's attire. The only thing missing was the coiled whip in hand--this wasn't /that/ kind of party, after all.On her heels were two White Court attendants. Mirroring their mistress's all white attire, they smoothed out the folds of her cape, making sure she looked pristine, least they suffered her wrath or her lash at a later time. Signaling the door should be opened, Emma Frost was one step away from making her grand entrance to the soiree, when another White Court attendant came shuffling in. With minor annoyance, the White Queen gave the faintest of grimace, barely enough to dimple to corner of her mouth."Mistress, there is a phone call." The attendant stammered."I will take the call in my office."With a click of her tongue, Emma turned back the way she had come in a sweeping wave of white. With a deft maneuver mastered over years of practice, she had unfastened her cape and tossed it at the interrupting attendant. Befuddled, the woman clawed wildly at the cape to gather it up against her chest, following behind the White Queen as she advanced down the dimly lit hallways of the Victorian mansion to the White Wing. This was Emma Frost's dominion within the Inner Circle. She was the highest ranking member of the White Court and, to be quite honest, even if there were a sitting White King, she had seniority; this was her Queendom.As one might expect from something christened the White Wing, it was white. While the style and coloration of the house itself remained consistent, the walls, drapery, the overall décor was white and accented with silver or glass. Pushing open the door to her office, Emma set her eyes on the large desk to the phone. But no sooner had she stepped through the threshold, something blindsided her from the left. The momentum of being hit by what felt like a freight train sent the White Queen tumbling to the ground in a most undignified manner. Reeling from the blow, Emma barely had time to lift her head before the intruder her was on her again. Her fist grabbed Emma by the hair on the crown of her head, invoking a sharp yelp as she grabbed wildly at the woman's wrist. But whatever she raked her nails against, it was not flesh. The surface ripped her nails up, even as she struggled to get any sort of traction against the impenetrable epidermis."Was I always this pathetic?"Struggling to look upwards to get a look at this woman, the White Queen was meet with herself. But not her. Older. And…shinny."I suppose this would be the part where I should say something profound, but, regrettably, I've been around the likes of the X-Men for the last decade or so. I'm reduced to the 'Come with me if you want to live' cliché."Emma Frost, once and future White Queen of the Hellfire Club, did something risky and dangerous. But it was essential for the future. Or at least that is what she told herself. In truth, what she did was the result of a broken heart. Following behind Beast and his stunt bringing the original X-Men to their present, the telepath reverse engineered his little time travel device. (This is an important lesson, children, never underestimate a blonde with a mission!) While she was seldom credited for her engineering prowess, Emma had invented her own Cerebro--a la Cerebra--and a device for swapping psyches. Programing the time machine, Emma added a special new feature: a tether that would return her to the present.Infiltrating the Hellfire Club was a cake walk. All she needed to do was command the staff to look the other way, telepathy was handy like that! Luring in her younger self took even less effort. Once rendering the doppelganger unconscious, Emma telepathically summoned henchmen into the office. She silently commanded them to stand guard, no interruptions would be tolerated.All the pawns were in place, the queen was in check. Emma then wheeled the other Emma to her desk, she was going to awaken with some dignity. "How young I was." She mused to herself, delicately moving a lock of hair from her other self's face. It was…unsettling…touching her own body with new finger tips. She was familiar with every curve, every crease, but it all felt so…alien. "How much potential I failed to realize within myself." It was important that this all fell into place just right. On her belt rested the time travel tether. Upon turning it on, she had exactly the time it took for it to boot up to pull the trigger on the body swap gun before her older body was jettisoned back to the future. Retrieving the White Queen's body swap gun, Emma took aim and pulled the trigger. Imagine how she could change the future given the chance to do it all over again. But, this time, with the knowledge of the future.------The use of the body swap gun knocks the user and target out cold for a short period of time. It was a useful side effect, so she had never gotten around to possibly correcting it. Slowly waking up, the White Queen needed a moment to orient herself. It was her body, but not entirely her body. It was younger, naive to the potential it carried--and truth be told, this was technically a different universe. Her muscles weren't as finely tunes as her (not all that much!) older body. She was still in fine shape, but Emma had to remember not to give into the instinct to shift to her diamond form; how dependent she had become! Perhaps she should have flipped some relays in her new head to trigger her secondary mutation sooner than Genosha's massacre. Running her fingers through her hair, Emma smoothed her hair back before she grabbed the top of her corset and adjusted herself. Flashing a glance in the nearest shinny surface, she checked her make-up to make sure it betrayed nothing amiss.Bursting through the double doors of her office, the White Queen strolled past the stunned guards she had ordered into place. She kept marching, leaving the befuddled maids in her wake, as she marched right into the Hellfire gathering. Foregoing her usual pomp and pageantry many had become accustomed raised eyebrows and garnered a few stray glances. Unmoved by their agitation in her disturbance of their amorous pursuits, Emma strolled right up to one stout, familiar frame. So adorned with women, he looked not all that dissimilar to the scene in Star Wars with that vulgar worm creatures. He certainly had the same leave of appeal.“Shaw, darling.” Emma crooned softly as she shooed away the eye-candy. She reclined casually against his shoulder, offering him the delectable view of her ample bosom. “I require your presence in the White Hall. It’s an /urgent/ matter.” She curled the corners of her lips into a vulpine smile as she glanced at the ponytailed buffoon from under her lashes with all the charm of her “come hither” allure. The appeal of a quick dalliance with the White Queen was much too much for Shaw. She stood up, confident her bait had been taken--hook, line, and sinker. She sashayed through the room, her shapely form moving with effortless grace of a queen with all the calculation of a jaguar on the hunt.So eager was he that he nearly trampled some guests and their companions as he followed the vision in white away from the soft tones of music and frivolity to the seclusion of the White Queen’s personal apartment. What Shaw beheld at his arrival was the White Queen in all her splendid glory upon a sea of white bedding. She reclined like a Venus, arms strategically draped above her head on overstuffed pillows, her sensuous form stretched out across the length of the bed. How she got out of the absurdly restrictive corset and thigh high boots in such a short amount of time mattered not, his lecherous gaze was set solely on the conquest of a queen. All but ripping his clothing from his own form, Shaw advanced into the darkened room. Approaching the foot of the bed, his burning desire was very apparent. Gripping her ankle, Shaw pulled Emma downward. His mouth latched onto the alabaster flesh of her ankle, eyes burning with a growing hunger set upon her face. With a sweet smile on her lips, Emma played coy. She slipped her foot from his grip, curling back up at the head of her bed. Shaw began to climb onto the bed, liking this little game. Much to his misfortune, however, the pretend innocence was not the only game the White Queen was playing. As he approached her, the White Queen struck.The psibolt knocked him off his feet. Shaw fell onto the bed and rolled. Gripping his head, dazed, the Black King struggled to get off the bed and to his feet. But no sooner did he lay foot on the ground, Emma struck again. Another psibolt, sending the revolting pig spiraling to the ground. Disoriented, hurting from the blows he could not absorb, Shaw lashed out for anything to grab hold of--a weapon, a tether, anything to allow him the comfort of knowing he had control of this situation. Slipping casually off the bed, the White Queen came to stand over the struggling worm of a man, her face void of any emotion save one: triumph. To finally dispatch this horrid creature, something she should have done years ago--liberating! Drinking in this moment, savoring ever last second, she finally struck one last time. Shaw's body went limp. Stepping past him, the White Queen began getting dressed. She had a party to attend.

The Diamond Standard

08/01/2021 10:41 PM 

Hannibal Ad Portas

This piece was actually inspired by a dream.  I wanted to force Emma out of her comfort zone.  She is on the run and has to go 'off the grid.'  Sleazy hotels, burner phones, and no extravagant bank account...oh my!  This is a piece I would like to see continued through a SL."With the negative punishment, you are taking away something…"Emma Frost, once infamous White Queen and current teacher of psychology, gave pause from her lecture. Something was off. Most of the students were asleep with their eyes open, their heads precariously perched in their upraised palms and faces devoid of any semblance of expression (or intelligence?). Some might actually have been drooling a bit, how unsightly. It was none of them. Pursing her lips, the blonde telepath skimmed the surface thoughts of everyone within her reach. But the school was peaceful--or what one might consider passing for peaceful at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.Students were in classes at the moment, it was the final hour for the day. The advent of the evening was at hand with the sun hanging lazily between noon and sunset. The Danger Room was in use, no doubt Logan working off whatever feral itch challenged human respectability at the moment with his usual cohorts, Kurt and Piotr. Hank was in his lab and Scott in his office. The library was--for the moment--intact. No brawls or bravado threatening the structural integrity of the property. It was…peaceful. So what set her ill at ease? Emma grimaced, pressing her senses outward, searching for the thoughts of this unseen threat."Pass these around…"There!Someone let slip their psychic shielding, the White Queen detected a glimmer of their thoughts."Miss Frost…?" One of the students peeped from the back of the room. Emma hast trailed off and remained silent for far longer than she should have. The response that came was not what the child expected: "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" The White Queen's telepathic voice rang out, reverberating through every skull with the utmost urgency. But her alert may have come too late. From the classroom window, Emma could just barely make out the front gate of the school. A large, black van approached the gates at a high speed, predictably crashing through the rod iron. Behind it came more vans. It was an invading army. And she couldn't sense any of them!"Go!" Emma barked to her students, darting a well-manicured finger towards the door of the classroom. "Follow the evacuation procedures! You've trained for this, now go! Go! Go!" Trained for this indeed! No school should have 'invasion procedures!' This was not the first time the school had been attacked. This would not be the last time, either. In all likelihood, this would also not be the first time the school has been destroyed. Nor the last. Alarms began to sound. Students began following the exits to a safe route beyond the school grounds. The X-Men, however, went in another direction: to the front door. No time to get dressed in impressive matching uniforms with spectacular contour and accentuating lines. Damn. And she loved these Jimmy Choos.Five vans in total crowded the front door of the Xavier's School. As one, the doors opened and the occupants emptied out. They were a laughable bunch, dressed from head to toe in clunky environmentally controlled suits. The U-Men. Nutty fanatics who wanted to graft on mutant anatomy to make themselves superior, whole, or some nonsense. This ought to be an easy beat down.The events that followed seemed to pass in slow motion.The X-Men braced themselves for whatever stolen mutant abilities these zealots had to dish out. The familiar coldness of her flesh turning to diamond crept over her, bringing with it blessed silence from the endless hum of other people's thoughts, feelings, and rapports. The first group U-Men began unzipping their suits. Managed, scarred beings that hardly bore resemblance to humanity emerged from the chrysalises, provoking an involuntary gag response from the White Queen. The vivisection process had not been kind to these men. But revulsion had to wait; they passed on the customary monolog and advanced into battle. The first group was barely within striking range when the second wave began shedding their suits. From these people came a brilliant, blinding light. And then the first group began exploding. The second wave had struck down their own in their effort to destroy the X-Men!Doused in human remains, Emma was rocked by the concussive force of the attack. She was knocked out cold.………………So course. With all the comfort of a brillo pad. It chaffed against her skin. Twitching once as awareness of her surroundings slowly began to get pieced together in her mind, Emma's eyes rolled open, not quite able to focus. The offensive fabric, putrid off white walls and yellow florescent lighting, garish décor. Dear God! She was in some motel! Emma Frost jumped into an upright position, a faint shriek of terror escaping her lips. And immediately she regretted it. Her world spun at a starling pace as a skull-splitting pain threatened to return her to unconsciousness. Exactly how Emma managed to brace herself against the presto board nightstand and bring herself to a standing position was unclear. But finding herself on legs about as stable as a newborn calf, she looked around the gouache environment with nausea unrelated to the head injury she somehow incurred in…battle?Where were the others? How did she get here? Where was here exactly? What happened to the U-Men, the school? Fighting past the discomfort, she reached out with her mind only to be sent reeling from a new wave of pain. Emma fell back onto the worn double bed, which screeching in protest from her dead weight."You really oughtn't do that."The voice was distant, grabbled. She could not recognize it through the acute agony overwhelming her senses."Where…?" That was all she managed."Motel 6. Not your usual digs, but that was sort of the idea. They won't think to look for us here...""Why…?" She grit her teeth against the pain in her head."Those zealots didn’t just attack the school, they compromised our identities, accounts, online presence. They laid out a paper trail. The long and short of it is this: We're now on multiple government radars that we've got no business being on. We need to lay low."The voice grew more distant as Emma succumbed to the pain, plunging into the darkness of unconsciousness.

PΙͺᴇʀᴄᴇ

08/01/2021 09:46 PM 

Owes List

I OWE YOU •Lexi- 7/21YOU OWE ME •Ethan•Magnolia  

π™π™€π™˜π™ &𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙑

08/01/2021 09:01 PM 

Miss Nothing - Sample/Starter/Drabble.

I’m miss autonomy, miss nowhere.I’m at the bottom of me.Miss androgyny, miss don’t care.What I’ve done to me. This was her story and hers alone, but she knew it wouldn’t always be like that. Her aunt used to say she guided people to her without thinking. Back then it was said venomously, but she had a feeling she meant every word when she said it. There are no happy endings from where she stood. Her life was surrounded with mystery and heartache; maybe not to where some stand. You could see this as a sob story that could easily be fixed, or you could cry with her and feel every emotion. Why did it matter? Because this was her story first, and now you’re coming along for the ride. Scotland was never filled with excitement for as long as she lived there. Which wasn’t long at all. She didn’t care for the selfish people who busied their selves in their busy everyday life. Forgetting what it means to have fun or enjoy a drink or two. No one cared for each other, not really, and behind a happy home was a cold bearing shelter. At least for her, it was. At first, she left Scotland to find things away from home after being forced to go into foster care. Then things happened, and they forced her to leave until she was twenty, it wasn’t something she desired - they suggested it to her to go back and make peace. Whatever that was. Bellshill wasn’t entirely the worst place to live in. It wasn’t dirty, at least not down by Motherwell road. The streets didn’t become busy enough to cause a crowd, but it wasn’t entirely empty either. A figure stared down from one of the rooftops to notice that tonight wasn’t so quiet either. Police cars patrolled the block she lived in. The small council homes below are built modestly, with two levels, a bathroom, two or three bedrooms, a living room, and a decent garden. By rights, it wasn’t the council's fault if this wasn’t a suitable home after all it was their choice if they wanted to make it better by their own right. Her aunt certainly never tried. I am misused, I don’t wanna do.Be not your slave.Misguided, I mind it.I’m missin’ the train. Moira Iona MacQueen slowly stood up from her place on the roof. Recently upon coming here, she had blonde hair, but she wanted to make sure no one would know who she was and dyed her hair strawberry blonde - Although this is often said to be red hair. It still wasn’t quite different from her natural hair. Her light strands are curled over her shoulder in what seemed to be a mess, the wind gently pushing her curls off her shoulder and down her back where they sway behind her rear. Her face wasn’t round but long, her forehead somewhat big, and she had hazel eyes that seemed bright with smokey eye shadow making them stand out. Her lips were painted red, but she always found them too small. Considering she had to be quick and easy to lose, she swapped whatever leather she had for some jeans and easy boots. A blacktop was covered with her red leather jacket. She had a bag with additional items thrown over her shoulder. Just in case something happened. Lifting her wrist, Moira checked the time on her gold watch - a gift. Along with her chain necklace with a protective crystal, gold earrings, and a ring with rubies inside of them. The only other thing she had been her bracelet, which she placed into her bag for safekeeping like the ring. And I don’t know where I’ve been,And I don’t know what I’m into,And I don’t know what I’ve done to me. “...It’s not like the police to be around here.” She said to herself quietly, did something happen? At any rate, she had to follow them. The one good thing about the street was how quiet it was. Back when she lived with her aunt, she didn’t like it much. Moira frowned. Then she walked back against the chimney and ran forward for another roof. Her body lunged with everything she had and grabbed onto the roof - Her boots hitting the tiles underneath her heels. Then she slowly sat up and ran a hand over her hair to put it back from her face. “Note to self; Tie back hair before jumping.” It wasn’t like her to do something so stupid. Usually she was good at this, but coming back to Scotland left her with a busy mind. She reached back and began tying her hair into a high ponytail. Then she stood up and stepped over broke tiles. Her eyes glancing down to see men below, “...Who are they waiting for?” And as I watch you disappear into the ground.My one mistake was that I never let you down.So I’ll waste my time, and I’ll burn my mind.On miss nothing, I’m miss everything. The police men calmly sipped their coffee, the chilly breeze of Scotland often known for being bad. Not as bad as some places, but rain was often on than not. “So what happened anyway?” One of the younger ones asked - The older one looked liked he was drinking soup rather than drinking any warm drink. The slurp coming from him lasted more than a second before he pulled back and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “A drunk was found dead.” Moira's mouth opened wide and her eyes widened. Her heart lunged at the thought of that woman being dead. How could that be? This never happened here. The younger man scoffed, “Good riddance.” “Hold your tongue.” The older man snapped. Watching the younger one deflate and mutter something under his breath. I’m miss fortune, miss so soon.I’m like a bottle of pain.Miss matter, you had her.Now she’s goin’ away. Having enough of this she glanced down the house she was on and saw the pipe, good. This was steady enough to climb down then. For a moment she steadied herself and fixed the back behind her before going down with her back away from the pipe. Her boots finding a steady place before she slowly climbed down. The police might find her, that much she didn’t need to deal with right now. Jumping down in a crouched position, Moira checked around the edge and noticed one man looked toward the car. She smirked. This was easy as pie. Pulling her bag forward to grab a coin and fixing it back, she flicked it past the man and slowly crouched behind his car. The young man looking to the right to see nothing but a coin. “What the...?” Moira bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Hazel's eyes dancing with mirth while she escaped to the other alley past the car. I’m misused, misconstrued.I don’t need to be saved.Miss slighted, I mind it.I’m stuck in the rain. Around the corner was her street. Moira snapped her body back and pressed herself into the wall when police men ran past her, no doubt the other two phoned them back. “Dolts.” She huffed. Her eyes darted back to the opening and then she peered around. No one was there. She quickly darted from the alley and ran toward the hill up to her house to see into the window. Two men stood in front, both on a smoke break, and her aunt was nowhere to be seen. Moira narrowed her eyes dangerously, taking the back way around. When she came around the back, a trail of blood stopped her from going further. Moira swallowed nervously, her heart beating against her chest. Why her? Even though she was a drunk, no one dared touch her. This didn’t look like the supernatural had any hand in it either. And I don’t know where I am.And I don’t know what I’m into.And I don’t know what I’ve done to me. The race of her own heart was so loud she could hear it herself. The thud against her chest felt so real to her, but it couldn’t be, right? Her aunt was hardly someone who could be killed, and if so, why? Moira slowly slipped into the back and around the kitchen on her hand and knees to see the white chalk covering her aunt. Her eyes taking in the blood and her body covered with a blanket. One man kneeled down and removed it. Aunt’s eyes wide open, the life and fire faded to nothing. Her head was hit open, blood and part of the brain could be seen where she was in the kitchen. Bile slowly rose her throat. Moira's color faded to sickly white while she backed out of the room and back around the house to climb up a pipe near the house. “Did you hear that?” One man said, a murmur of agreements coming forward before feet checked where she was last seen. And as I watch you disappear into the ground.My one mistake was that I couldn’t let you down.So I’ll waste my time, and I’ll burn my mind.On miss nothing, I’m missing everything. Moira fell back on the roof with her butt hitting the tiles, her eyes closed tightly, willing the image of her aunt's lifeless eyes to go away from her mind. She didn’t understand why someone would try to hurt her. This was insane - Even if someone hated her, why would they even want to? Could the supernatural be in on this, maybe? So many questions filled her head and still, she had no way of ever answering them. Her eyes opened slightly, but she didn’t seem as upset as someone would be over family death. No one would understand. Usually, she would go back to her friends, but how could they understand? Both of them had a love and hate relationship with their family but hating them enough to wish for their death? She was alone on this.I’m miss everything. A few hours and she still wanted to be sick. She was sick, just before getting onto her motorbike and riding back to his hometown. He was the only one who could help her and if anyone understood this - at least partly, then he would. Then again, she might just keep it to herself and not tell him. Things are hard to deal with right now, and all Moira wanted was to be in his arms. Moira realized shortly after an hour passed her Aunt was never someone she wanted to die. Not really, but to cry over her was something she couldn’t do. Her unreadable expression through her helmet was hidden. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “She deserved to die, but not like this.” And as I watch you disappear into my head.Well, there’s a man who’s telling me I might be dead. Moira slowly came to a stop across the road and leaned back. Her hand took the helmet off and she inhaled the air, her face hot from being confined into her helmet for a long period. Shaking her red hair from the helmet head, she no doubts had. In reality, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go in there and see him. The weather suddenly turned for the worst and drizzled on the way here, and now she could feel the rain on her hair. Hazel eyes peered up, dimmed from the events. She felt tired, and the bags under her eyes didn’t hide that very much. “ It’s now or never, I guess,” Moira mumbled, sliding her leg over and setting down her helmet with her bike she began the short walk along the street. When she came to the door, her hand reached to knock and froze. Her eyes quickly darted to her trembling hand, her Aunt flashing in her head again. Moira swallowed past the lump, while her eyes burned and water. It felt okay because the rain would hide her tears - It wasn’t like he could tell she was crying, right? After a moment she knocked, and the door opened to reveal a soaked Moira. Her red hair now flattened, sticking to her face that it usually framed. Droplets fell from her eyelashes, “...Can I come in?” So I’ll waste my time, and I’ll burn my mind.So I’ll waste my time, and I’ll burn my mind.On Miss Nothing, I’m miss Everything. It seemed - Hate or love. You can’t hate your blood no matter what. To this day she wasn’t sure if it was because of her or maybe just being safe forced her to accept everything. The back of her head disappeared behind the door, instantly relaxing when it inched to be closed.

π™π™€π™˜π™ &𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙑

08/01/2021 08:59 PM 

What the hell - Sample/starter work.

Drabble/Starter/Sample. What the hell - Avril Lavigne. Theme: Fun/Distant boyfriend/Hidden surprise. As requested, I will make the boy rather hidden so that anyone reading - Male can imagine that this is him. It was asked, so I plan to go through with it. So if I don’t go into detail on this guy, you know the reason for it. You say that I’m messing with your head.All ‘cause I was making out with your friend.Love hurts whether it’s right or wrong.I can’t stop ’cause I’m having too much fun. We all have something to say about the other gender. Nice or not, it all comes to the same thing, nothing good or bad depending on how you raised yourself to live. However, what we cannot see is the reason for their action. Everything is done because of what someone else did or how they came to be raised - Even a child can grow into something evil should you treat it like trash. That was the thing Moira often thought on. To her, men do not differ from animals, which wasn’t a bad thing considering she slept around with them pretty often. Behind her point of view she was raised to not trust people, no matter how kind they appear to be in this life. A boy toy is something to keep her mind off things. She had no intention of keeping them around or stay around. Then that one boy will come out of the radar and make her think - Okay, this isn’t too bad. She’ll enjoy their arms around her and smile to herself. Then something stupid happens and Moira will be disgusted all over again. Sad, right? Too many girls don’t accept the facts of the world. As for her? She accepted, broke them, and f***ing made her own facts. Who cared if they were just into her body, anyway? This was just for fun. The early morning sun peeked through the dark and messy motel room. Hazel eyes squinted, but seemed to be less sleepy than she was giving off. On her side, away from her partner, she rolled to her back and ran a hand through her messy hair. The red strands sprawling out over the pillow. Movement from the other side rolled to meet her and her face moved to greet him with a small smile. “Mornin’.” She mused not bothering to wait for him she rolled out of the bed in her black lace underwear. Kneeling down to pluck the shirt off the floor, slipping it on before going over to the small desk in the room. You’re on your knees.Begging, “Please, stay with me”.But, honestly, I just need to be a little crazy. “Where are you going?” He asked on the bed, his arms folding behind his head. His eyes roaming her figure from behind while Moira threw a smirk over her shoulder. Humming in reply, she grabbed her hair from behind and pulled it out from the shirt from behind. Her gaze stared into the mirror to see her playful expression and her current partner stand from the bed. Moira smiled and leaned down to get her perfume sitting on the table, lifting it up to spray around her neck when she turned to see him. “...Hmm?” “I don’t know, why do you ask?” His hands gently pulled her closer by the waist, Moira pressed herself closer to his body and pressed it into his. Her lips only widened while she ran her hand through his hair. Her red strands tugged gently at the back in a gentle grip made her tilt her head. Turning on her go, she moved them until her hands pushed him into the bathroom. “What the f***-” He shouted at her, more surprised when the door shut on him and she locked it from where she was and leaned back with a laugh. “Moira! Open the f***ing door, where are you going?!” All my life I’ve been good.But now I’m thinking, “What the hell”.All I want is to mess around.And I don’t really care about. The only thing she did was ignore his yelling from the other end. Pushing herself off the door to find her clothes once she scanned the room she found her black tank top and skinny jeans near the bed. Grabbing both while jumping around the room to fit her jeans on. The rest of the outfit comprising her ankle boots, shoulder bag and add things inside with her gold dangling earrings and matching bracelet and necklace. The next thing she was skipping outside with her waving curls bouncing behind her back. Her head peeked to see nothing following her while she strolled down the path. Only to find that a taxi was sitting by, broke down from the steam coming from it. Moira slowly smirked and jogged to the front to get in the car. “Who the-” The taxi driver questioned only for her pressed her foot down before he could stop her the taxi speeding down the road with two men chasing her from behind. If you love me, if you hate me.You can’t save me, baby, baby.All my life I’ve been good.But, now what the hell.What? What? What? What the hell? Moira turned on the radio and ‘What the hell.’ Covered by the sounds of angry men from behind, only when she looked out the window she noticed him follow her on the bike and shook her head at him. Then she faces forward again only to see him riding beside the car. Her lips twitched, the car recklessly skidding down the road unevenly, “Moira get out the car! Are you trying to kill yourself?!” He yelled at her from the car window. Her smile never left her face, even while he scolded her. Did he honestly think she was doing this for any other reason but to cause trouble? “In your dreams!” She shouted back, taking one hand off the wheel to briefly press it to her lips and blow him a kiss. Winking when she drove right past him again. So, what if I go out on a million dates?You never call or listen to me, anyway.I’d rather rage than sit around and wait all day.Don’t get me wrong, I just need some time to play. It only took her like ten minutes before she jumped out of the driver's seat without stopping the car. The taxi dove right for the car in front of it while she ran off to the near basket ball park. Her lips stretched into a comically open mouth. “...Oh, well.” She said and shrugged. It wasn’t even her car in the first place, and it would be the taxi company who ended up paying for whatever damage was made with the driver himself. When she walked into the park, she had the pleasure of meeting all the tall basketball players. “Hey boys.” Moira greeted, hazel eyes darkened with mischief while all players stopped to check her out for a second. “Moira. Been a while hasn’t it?” One of them said with a grin. She nodded her head and walked up to one player named James. “Month or two?” She guessed, her brow raising at him for a second. “Who’s counting, anyway?” The group chuckled around her and she stole the basketball for a second before walking a suitable distance to the hoop, throwing it just once for the ball to go in. “Still got it!” She said before throwing her arms in the air in a cheer, a few whistles from the surrounding team before something hit the ground near the entrance to the front gate. Moira checked around them to her her lover and blinked. “Whoops.” She uttered before running for the other side of the gate to escape.You’re on your knees.Begging, “Please, stay with me”.But, honestly I just need to be a little crazy. Moira checked everywhere for a place to hide in while he was there. The first thing she spotted was a vintage store, she loved shopping as much as anything and couldn’t help herself. When she stepped in the shop owner smiled. Her hand was thrown over weakly in greeting before she checked around the sore to see if she can find anything she liked. The shop owner watched her go further inside and shook her head at her back. Actually, this was a store she came too often with him. So he knew where it was really, but this was the first thing she thought of so it will do. All my life I’ve been good.But now I’m thinking, “What the hell”.All I want is to mess around.And I don’t really care about. On her way around she found stand filled with sunglasses and pulled out some black ones. The sound of the door ringing made her turn to see him there. Her lips stretched into a grin before she ran around the corner, throwing the glasses behind her for him to catch. “Hold that, would you?” If you love me, if you hate me.You can’t save me, baby, baby.All my life I’ve been good.But now, what the hell. For a moment she blinked and stood still with the ‘Sale’ in bright red letters. She pushed the clothes she had off the rack and made sure he was holding her new items before grabbing the ‘What the hell.’ shirt from the new rack, then she ran for the changing room and locked the doors behind her to change. Each clothing was thrown over her shoulder, making him catch her shirt and shoes and whatever she threw at him. Moira walked out of the room when he was still kneeling. Her hands straightened the top from showing some of her bra, her head looking over her shoulder to see him following her out. She smirked and rushed past the owner, “He’ll pay for everything!” She shouted before taking off in a run. La la la la la la la la.Whoa, whoa.La la la la la la la la.Whoa, whoa. Everything leads to this point. Leading him into the dark hallway of the clubroom where all the girls leaning on the wall watching him pass. Moira waved at him from the wall and wiggled her figure for him to come forward. Taking his hand, she leads him into the room where the music suddenly played for him. She jumped on stage and stood in front of the mike,” Happy birthday. Did you like your exercise for the day?” She said into the microphone with a laugh. She jumped down the stairs and looked around for him in the room. A hand came from behind her, “Gotcha.” He whispered into her ear and she leaned into him. “I guess you did.”You say that I’m messing with your head, boy.I like messing in your bed.Yeah, I am messing with your head.When I’m messing with you in bed.All my life I’ve been good.But now I’m thinking, “What the hell”.All I want is to mess around.And I don’t really care about.All my life I’ve been good.But now I’m thinking, “What the hell”.All I want is to mess around.And I don’t really care about.If you love me, if you hate me.You can’t save me, baby, baby.All my life I’ve been good.But, now what the hell.La la la la la la la la.

π™π™€π™˜π™ &𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙑

08/01/2021 08:57 PM 

Kerosene - Song drabble/starter/sample.

Drabble/Sample/Starter. Miranda Lambert - Kerosene. { If you notice that there is no detail on where she is. Then you can just be anywhere that fits this, I’ll leave that to your imagination or writing skills if you want this. Flexibility is the key for me! Also, this is a setting and started so it requires more, and if you don't write that much just put out your limit. You do not have to match me.} We all want that something to light up our life. Little girls think dating is all fun and games until their hearts are broken by some first love. Boys think dating is easy until they learn just how demanding a relationship can be. Loyalty, friendship, faith, trust. It was a never-ending list of things you had to do and yet couldn’t complete. No relationship is perfect and those that continue to think so learn the hard way. But then again, some people earn that poor relationship from the way their life is built. Moira was the only one that didn’t understand what these girls are thinking. Men are dogs, being faithful is just not something you will get from them. No matter what, the children don’t fall far from the family tree. Maybe her drinking problem came from the only relatives she ever knew - A scary thought, but accurate enough. Even to this day, her relationship was built on sex. No love and no feelings, if they did? She got rid of her recent male toy. I’m waitin’ on the sun to set. ‘Cause yesterday ain’t over yet. I started smoking cigarettes. There’s nothing else to do, I guess. The sun was just setting over the little ranch outside of town. The deserted ground around the female was dry and quiet. That was perfect for just what she planned, though. Her arms leaned on the fence behind her, the ruck truck hidden down the road. Her long wavy hair was thrown over her shoulder and tied in a low ponytail. A few odd strands framing her long face. Some say her forehead was too big and her chin was too long - but screw them. Some liked her looks, and that was all the confidence she needed. Her hazel eyes glanced up at the sky, watching the birds go by, her eyes brighter with smokey eye shadow around them. Throwing up the package of cigarette in her hand and catching it in her other. Her gaze moved to her nasty habit and frowned. Sue called it a nasty thing to do, but she couldn’t understand. In this time, what else could she do? She would not stress about it, and this was her first one today. Her fingers fiddled with the package before taking one out, slipping the package into her back pocket before taking the cigarette to her painted lips, then her free hand flicked her lighter. Her eyes closing as soon as she inhaled and exhaled. “F*** her this is good either way.” She muttered under her breath. I gave it everything I had. And everything I got was bad. Life ain’t hard but it’s too long. To live it like some country song. Moira opened her eyes and sighed to herself. A hand coming to brush her hair away from her face, pushing herself off she stepped away when the man she had been waiting for was stepping outside. Her eyes darkened slightly, “F*** bastard.” She mumbled, her lips dipped down into a scowl this time. She watched him go into the black truck and drive down to see his whore. She didn’t care as much as her face showed, though. In fact, like everyone else in her life, he was just a toy, but when a toy tries to trick her into a serious relationship with something on the side... Sh*t is going to go down. Taking her cigarette from her mouth throwing it down on the ground. Her brown laced boots crushing it into the ground. Usually she wore leather on a day like this. However, she swapped it for some fitting jeans and a black tank top that wasn’t cropped for once. The one thing she had for some leather biker gloves and her leather jacket, which was flung over the back of the truck down the road, just beside her leather shoulder bag. Moira turned around and walked back to the truck with a kick to her step. Then she checked to see everything was there, her eyes roaming over her bag and the mobile phone she plucked out. Nails flicking messages away here and there before putting it back. She didn’t believe in wearing too much. A silver bracelet with black gems and a ring on her finger. Along with some hoop earrings, nothing too big or fancy. She couldn’t afford those, anyway. Finally, she pulled out her black sunglasses and placed them on. Trade the truth in for a lie. Cheating really ain’t a crime. I’m giving up on love ‘cause love’s given up on me. Moira grabbed the edge of the truck and pushed herself up. “Here we go.” She smiled, her eyes eyeing the tank of fuel. Leaning down she grabbed that with her hands and huffed when she pulled it to the edge. There was no way she was jumping down with that. Once down, she pulled the tank with her and began hauling it back to the house near her spot. The first thing she did was kick the door open and make her way inside to check inside. She smirked seeing no sign of any animal, then she moved to the back of the house. Her hand turning the cap around, before pouring some fuel through each room until she was sure the entire thing would light up in flames. Eventually, she came out of the door and down the steps toward her truck. Just to watch the fireworks from a safe spot. Forget you high society. I’m soakin’ it in kerosene. Light ‘em up and watch them burn. Teach them what they need to learn, ha!. On her way back, she lifted herself back onto the back of her truck and planted her butt there. Moira's smile widened and the sparkle in her hazel eyes seemed brighter. “Let’s see some fireworks.” She said, taking her lighter from her bag and flicking it. The fire coming out just as her hand threw it on the fuel. The liquid lit up from the spot she placed it, the fire gathering up from the dry path. Slowly passing by the fence, she took as her own just a second ago. Then going right into the house when someone yelled down the road. Dirty hands ain’t made for shakin’. Ain’t a rule that ain’t worth breakin’. Well I’m givin’ up on love ‘cause loves given up on me. The same black truck was driving back down the road. Someone must have seen the smoke and warned him, she’d love to know who so she can kick their ass too. Clearly, someone else knew about this affair. “I guess someone is getting away free today,” Moira pressed her lips together, pouting over letting someone go. She never did like having the second last say in this case. Now I don’t hate the one who left. You can’t hate someone who’s dead. He’s out there holdin’ on to someone. I’m holding up my smokin’ gun. Oh well, her eyes shifted toward the house was currently falling to the ground and turning black from the fire. Jackson Smith stepped out of his truck and ran toward his house with his hands on his head. He was a tall male with broad shoulders and a freshly cleaned shaved face with dark brown eyes. Not the most handsome man she had taken in. He was good enough to pass her time around here, though. Moira whistled loudly, attracting the man who was kneeling on the ground. “How are the fireworks?” She asked before jumping off her truck.Stepping around to get into her seat and pull her truck from its parking space, the engine loudly roared to life. Jackson just standing up to run toward the car, “...You f***ing burned my house, you bitch!” He yelled on the sideline which was met with her middle finger. Rolling her eyes, the dude was seriously stupid if he thought anything he said was going to make her stay around. So the prankster turned on her radio and turned the volume to blast. ‘What the hell.’ down the road to the diner she frequents. I’ll find somewhere to lay my blame. The day she changes her last name. Well I’m givin’ up on love ‘cause love’s given up on me. Well I’m givin’ up on love, hey, love’s given up on me.

WΜ·iΜ·cΜ·kΜ·eΜ·dΜ· Μ·LΜ·oΜ·vΜ·eΜ·

08/01/2021 08:42 PM 

Mains

American Satan & Paradise cityVic @DoorMouse Johnny @True Friends & Johnny @White Rabbit Leo @Leo DonovanDylan @Dylan James Lily @Pink Hedgehog Mama Kat @Million Reasons Descendants 1-3 Harry @Coat HangerGil @Isle Pirate Mal @Isle Queen Uma @Mean GirlCelia @Card Shark (Still needs to add me)Ben @ Besty King Hades @ Lord of the Underworld And more Once upon a time Belle @Belles of the balls & Belle @Beauty BelleElsa @Ice Queen Papa Hook @Frozen Rapsberries Emma @ Emma SwanRuby @Wicked Red HoodEverlyn @Stand StrongAnd More Sons of AnarchyAbel @Lucky RabbitAlice @Samcro PrincessJuice @ Juice Ortiz Chibs @Irish Biker And more My family Raj @Rabbit Ben @Benjamin Jeremey @Jeremey Nolan @Nolan Elli @Dangerous Heart Beca @Blue Flamingo Shiloh @Let the monster rise Destiny @Night Falls And more.If I forgotten anyone please let me know by commeting my status.

π™π™€π™˜π™ &𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙑

08/01/2021 08:25 PM 

Outfit Requests.

Casual.Biker inspiration.Fancy.Sports.Smart.Summer.Dressy.Country Request.Special request.

The Diamond Standard

08/01/2021 08:26 PM 

For the Children

"The children…""Mmeh…""The children, Emma."Her eyes twitched under shuttered lids. REM sleep phase. Or was it?"The children, Emma. They're in danger."She rolled in her sleep, in the throes of a nightmare. Emma's heart rate was racing, her breathing rapid. Tangled in her sheets, the White Queen teetered dangerously close to the edge of her bed. Lashing out, Emma sparred with an invisible adversary. This was not the White Queen's first night of bad dreams. In fact, she was suffering quite the epidemic of them as of late. But tonight was different, her shadowy tormentor was quite a little chatterbox compared to previous nights."Emma, YOUR children!"A raspy voice goaded her, baiting her to respond. The cold-hearted White Queen was not as detached as many believed. And there was no greater weakness to exploit than her students. The Hellions, Genosha, the Cuckoos; her personal history was drenched in loss. Each face haunted her memory, each memory twisted the knife in her heart. Emma carried the pain with her behind a carefully crafted façade. One could call her cold. But that's just what Emma wanted you to believe. This dreadful voice seized upon her greatest fear. Ever the cunning one, the White Queen decided this was more than a dream."You overplayed your hand, now show yourself." She roared defiantly into the void.This was no dream, this was the astral plane. No stars, no moon, darkness as far as the eye could see; the only light was Emma's own shimmering projection. Even when she reached out with her mind, Emma could not sense anything. There was no up, nor down; she was for all intents and purposes hovering in the abyss. Despite her demands, nothing revealed itself. It would seem she was alone. Instead, the disembodied voice continued to taunt her."Emma, your children need you. Why won't you help them?""What danger? You?" Emma pursed her lips. The veiled threat was not to be taken likely, but she needed more information. Again, the telepath reached out with her senses in a bid to reveal the voice. After many years of seeing how people attempt to hide their thoughts, Emma learned to also understand what someone is hiding in how they try to hide it. It was all very abstract, one learns how to see things from a variety of perspectives. She realized the absence of a presence was, in fact, the entity itself. And it…was…horrifying…"What are you?" Emma felt the cold chill of dread slithering up her spine. This coming from the White Queen, rest assure that it was something of biblical proportions. No sooner did she reveal the entity's charade did it lay siege upon her. Bands on dark energy reached for her, binding her astral form in its clutches. Struggling, Emma lashed out with a psi-bolt, a tried and true attack. The being was unfazed. A black, gaping maw parted as it drew her in."You are mine…"

The Diamond Standard

08/01/2021 08:10 PM 

The Future is Mutant

Chapter 1The Future is Mutant"Now I will have the future I've always wanted!"Bolts of electricity firing in all manner of directions dominated the landscape, sparking sporadically from the grotesque machine this mad woman had concocted. It seemed like something Tesla would have dreamed up in a very mad scientist sort of way. Strapped to two tables were two--let's say deserving, but even they did not deserve what was happening to them--mutants. The Mastermind sisters. They were plugged into the mechanical monstrosity, their bodies convulsing in pain with each spark. Standing between them was a woman--a human--who called herself…oh, who could remember all these trite little monikers they anointed themselves with these days… For the sake of naming names, hers was actually Michelle. Emma gleaned that from her mind before the device was turned on."Always some unloved basement dweller wanting to reshape reality in their image." Emma hissed through grit teeth.Whatever the machine was, it radiated a force that somehow managed to be both physical and psychic in nature--perhaps the Mastermind sisters?--that floored everyone, save the monologuing villainess. Wolverine, admirable though his efforts were, crawled on his belly towards the adversary. Ever the determined one, that one. Emma, also on her hands and knees, pushed forward in her diamond form. Storm was down, Nightcrawler was probably in another zip code by now--the machine frazzled his teleporting…who was left?"And now to make my dream at reality."The woman held something in her hands, raising them to her lips."Oh no…"Those blasted mutant power inhalers. How did she get not one, but two of them? And just who's powers were she ingesting?"Stop!" Emma pushed herself forward, mustering every last ounce of strength she had, launching herself towards the other woman. At a glance, Emma noticed the inhalers Michelle pumped into herself as the White Queen slammed into her: Scarlett Witch and Magik. It was too late. Michelle and Emma were enveloped in a blinding light, the symphonic combination of reality warping and portals doing only God knew what to them both! When the light faded and Emma Frost no longer seeing spots, she found herself in a world she did not recognize.Past the smoking husk formerly known as Michelle, there stood a magnificent city of sparkling glass standing proudly in the midst of a barren desert--more Sonora, less Sahara. Architecture resembled nothing Emma was accustomed to, more reminiscent of something Shi'ar or otherwise alien in nature than terrestrial. Crowned with a gold spier, the tallest tower stood stories above any other, placed directly in the middle of the city. Emma gathered that was the place she needed to go, it certainly felt very 'governing power' to her. She could hear the echoes of the citizenry's thoughts, but a very distinct psychic haze kept her from 'hearing' anything more. The airspace around the city was abuzz, full of cars(?) and…people?...in flight. They swarmed about, following unspoken laws of traffic as they went about their way.Standing upright, Emma dusted herself off. Sand. How horrid. Casting a glance at Michelle's body, Emma silently cursed the arrogance of this woman. She got what she deserved. Too bad karma took Emma along for the ride. "To Oz? To Oz." With a huff, the White Queen began marching towards the glass city. It was several miles out. If she made, Emma was going to very thirsty and sunburned. And sweaty. Oh, how much worse can this day get?! Damn it all, why did she think that?! It seemed her arrival had not gone unnoticed by those within. Three figures silently emerged from the city gates, all hovering above the sands. Telekinetics. How curious. Just what sort of place was this? She trained her gaze on the figures as they rapidly approached her. Friend or foe? She kept her guard up, preparing from either. But it was the strangers who spoke first. Telepathically!"We are friends, Lady Frost."Each came to hover just feet from Emma Frost. All three wore technologically advanced armor of sort, head to heel, she could tell nothing of their appearance. The one who stood ahead of the other two--presumably the leader--took off his helmet, revealing a very humanoid young man. Dare she even say he appeared quite familiar without having met anyone quite like him before. A mess of brown hair and striking blue eyes, he gave the faintest trace of a smile."Welcome home, mother."Chapter 2Prince MyshkinMother…?So sooner had the word processed in Emma's head did the man reply."Yes, mother." He gave pause, introspectively shrugging his shoulders. "Technically you are not my mother-mother, but mother that you are technically identical down to the last chromosome as the woman who birthed me.""Ah, different--""Universe, yes."This was getting annoying. Is this how non-telepaths felt…?"Yes, all the time." He offered a sheepish smile when Emma gave him a sharp glare."I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude, I actually cannot help it." Another sheepish smile. "Forgive me, I have not introduced myself properly. My name is Charles Lehnsherr. Or call me DCog, if you'd rather. Shall we return home? You seem quite exhausted." Charles glanced down at the remains of the mad woman before regarding Emma once more.Emma raised a skeptical brow, all this new information was a little overwhelming. It was quite a lot to take in, let alone make sense of. But, once more, the instant she began to formulate a question, the answers began spilling out of Charles' mouth:"In this world, Apocalypse conquered most of the planet, save some human resistance and, of course, the X-Men." He nodded towards Emma. "Except these X-Men were led by father after Charles Xavier was assassinated by his time traveling son."How ironic."Quite."The two exchanged looks before Emma became abruptly aware that she had been lifted off the ground. Telekinetic. Another look at Charles, whom Emma expected would be quick to explain Emma's own thoughts to her before answering, as he seemed quite prone to do. But the younger mutant showed surprising restraint, rather focused on their destination than Emma's critical gaze. Was he also telekinetic? Or was that one of the armored companions?"Despite the very fate of humanity hanging in the balance, the you of this world and father managed to have me, naming me in honor of Mr. Xavier." Charles continued speaking as the group crossed the expanse of the desert in a fraction of the time it would have taken to walk. "There were many casualties, many failed missions, but eventually Apocalypse was defeated. Mutant and human kind were free to rebuild the world with a new sense of purpose. It's been almost twenty years. In that time, we have managed to build this city to be a beacon of peace across the globe."The kid wasn't lying. Entering the gates, Emma was blown away by the beauty. Clearly Charles inherited "her" exquisite tastes. All around her, human and mutants milled about in seemingly harmonious coexistence; though Emma could see that vast majority of the population were, in fact, mutants. They proudly displayed their abilities in every day life. Speedsters delivery services, enhanced strength construction, plant manipulators working as florists, etc. The city was unnaturally clean, as though it had been built just the day before. No signs of homelessness or degradation from the passage of time. But if this was Utopia, why was there a wall?Her thoughts must have caught Charles' attention as he looked over at Emma. "We may be peaceful, but that doesn't mean everyone is at peace." That wasn't cryptic at all. "What I mean to say, some people--human and mutant--have chosen to not learn from the past. There are zealots who still believe…well, all sorts of crazy things. And that’s why we have walls and soldiers. Peace, even after the brink of extinction, is still not easy to obtain and is never certain." This was her child for sure. Hopeful, but cynical at the very same time. But why did that make-- "Me? I don't want to call myself king, but I suppose by definition, that is what I am." Was this going to be 'a thing' this whole adventure?"I'm sorry." Charles once again apologized. "I am a telepath, but not quite how you are accustomed." That sheepish grin again, he suddenly appeared very self-conscious. "When you got here, you tried to read people's minds, correct?" Of course he was, it was a rhetorical question at this point. "And you couldn't quite get a read?" Obviously. "That was me, sort of. My telepathic rapport is…how to put this nicely, like a psychic contagion. You caught it upon trying to read minds of people already infected. Some people are immune, some people are carriers, but most people around here are connected to me, whether either of us like it or not. But, on the plus side, I know everyone here is relatively peaceful. There are petty crimes committed every now and then, fights and disagreements, but no 'supervillains' out for world domination sorts."Chapter 3The Shining CityA psychic contagion, that was a new one. With each person infected, that means-- "Yes, my powers are amplified." Had Emma actually gotten a single word in since meeting this boy? "Not really…oh, sorry." Charles cringed, having overheard the internal musings of the White Queen. "In all fairness, most telepaths only talk telepathically when speaking with other telepaths." That was a flimsy defense. Guarded thoughts still being heard was very off-putting and zero privacy. Charles looked like he was ready to exploded, wanting to comment on Emma's thoughts. Pursing her lips, Emma tilted her head to go ahead. "I really don't want to hear your inner most thoughts. Unfortunately we are in such close proximity, it makes that impossible to avoid."By this time, their little entourage had reached the tower at the center of the city. Emma was set down on the sidewalk with such ease it was like she had never left the Earth at all. The glimmering tower was all the more impressive up close. Through the shining façade, various images were projecting news feeds from within the city and around the world. Indeed, not all were at peace. It seemed much of the planet was currently engaged in some sort of war. Cities, not all that dissimilar from this one, were encased in glass domes under scorched skies. It was only during a news feed at night did Emma notice the moon, partially fractured. That was, quite possibly, the most startling visual out of the whole ordeal. The White Queen could only stand aghast at the sight. Vaguely aware of Charles coming to stand beside her, Emma could simply stare at the moon."Shortly after Apocalypse's fall, a rouge faction of Shi'ar took a cheap shot at us. The moon took the brunt of their canon blast during the final battle, but much of Asia was decimated. Mother and father marshalled every mutant on the planet to retaliate. Our natural born powers combined sent the bird people limping back to their corner of space. Empress Lilandra sent science envoys to help compensate for the damage our atmosphere endured, but some areas are still pretty bad." The young king turned away from the screens, nodding towards the entrance to the tower. "Come, I would like you to meet my advisory board." Emma followed Charles with an ever growing discomfort growing in the pit of her stomach. The world was in pieces and this was still twenty years after Apocalypse? And if there was so much war, how had this place remained so peaceful? The desert setting seems strategic, true enough. But when a single person could grow a field of crops, change the weather or move the earth with only a thought, was geography really that much of an advantage?"Not really." Again, no sooner did she have a single thought did the boy king hear her. "That's why we have our own people who can do things with just a thought. Mother, you can trust me. I promise." Perhaps. The boy did seem to have nothing but good intentions. As she adjusted to the 'contagion', Emma began to sense Charles' own thoughts with a bit more clarity. Either his defenses were down or he felt emotionally connected to her alternate self enough to let her in.Inside the tower was no less spectacular. Just as gossamer as the exterior, everything looked like it was made of glass. It was, as she had guessed, the epicenter of government. Offices and courtrooms, presumably Charles' living quarters at the top. The guards, still escorting the pair, guided them to an elevator, a spectacular glass tube that seemed to go on forever.Reaching roughly midway up the tower, the elevatored opened into a large single room with high, vaulted ceilings and panoramic widows that looked out at the sprawling city. The only furnishings were about a dozen chairs, all but two occupied but pristine individuals in white suits, male and female alike, sitting upright with their eyes shut. They didn't seem to acknowledge the new arrivals, but their thoughts quickly offered reserved greetings.Your highness. Lady Frost, how nice to see you. We are terribly sorry for your rough journey. Surly we can help you find a way home.Emma was struck with an overwhelming sense of belonging. Other telepaths, only telepaths! It was a beautiful sight. But what were they doing?They're managing the city. Charles whispered softly in the back of her mind. Waterworks, sewage, food processing, electricity, so on. We manage it from here, making sure the city thrives.How streamlined.My lord, we have insurgents approaching the East gate, came the suddenly urgent voice of one of the telepaths. As one, the group opened their eyes. Standing in unison, they turned towards the east-facing portion of the window. Charles, and so too did Emma, also turned. Without spoken command--telepathically controlled technology, oh goody goody goody! Emma was liking this place despite so many doubts!--the window doubled as an interface, zooming in on the offending band of attackers.We cannot engage, another spoke.Great. What flag are they waving?The broken skull flag, sir,Came an unidentified replied Charles looked to Emma. Mother, would you like to see first hand what we're trying to keep out with our walls? Charles seemed hurt that she was carrying some distrust of him and his kingdom. I would indeed. Emma replied, watching the horde of figures amassing at the city gate. Charles nodded, holding out his hands as the helmet he had removed back in the desert floated into his grasp. Pulling it over his head, the young king seemed ready for war. A well-rehearsed war, he replied darkly as his guards began walking toward the elevator with Emma and Charles in tow.Why can the others not engage? Emma asked Charles on the ride down. They are a tribe of feral mutants. Something whipped them up into a berserker's frenzy. Most ferals are immune to our telepathy because they are more animal than human, you can't manipulate the mind of dumb animals.His tone was void of emotion, sending a chill up Emma's spine.Chapter 4What is Man Without the BeastAt the gate, a small army had formed. The Broken Skull tribe was a wide range of feral beings. Some more human than others, these mutants were barely dressed and filthy. These people--a term she was applying generously--had chosen a life as wild animals and cave dwellers. If there was any shred of humanity to them, it was greatly overshadowed by their beast side. Scanning their minds as best she could, all Emma could sense was rage. They emitted feelings, not cohesive thought, and the sheer volume of their emotions buzzed in her head like an angry hive. Some blips of other emotions tinged the fury, but so little she could not pinpoint any of it. One would do better trying to decipher static.All at once, they began throwing objects."INCOMING!" Charles pulled Emma back just a moment before the explosions began. Quite an advanced weapon for barely-human mutants. There was something quite odd about this whole thing. But just as Charles had no time to keep up with her thoughts, Emma had no time to contemplate this momentary distraction from the omnipresent telepath. Another volley of bombs went off, the shining city's forces had no time to respond. The wall defending them from the invading force deteriorated into rubble. Fire and debris rained down upon the infantry.

General Johann Schmidt/Red Skull

08/01/2021 04:58 PM 

Hydra's Atlantis Take Over

A new threat is now rising, after the end of the Wrath War with the people of Atlantis.  General Johann Schmidt and his mighty Hydra Army had discovered people living and working in an Ancient Lost city base called 'Atlantis'.  Now, Schmidt and his Hydra Army has their sights set on taking over the lost city base, but in order to excute his plan, his going to need extra power, by creating the ultimate Super Solider, by turning a team member of Atlantis into his own personal Super Soldier, rather they have the anicent gene or not




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