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[Thoughts: Enough Said ] [Location: X-Jet on my way to this Alkali Lake Base] [With: The Cheery Chippawas...er I mean a few of the Omega's and a few of the Alpha's, though from the sounds of things, that population may be reduced soon if we don't get off this infernal metal contraption that's on the verge of becoming Pandora's Box]


It was amazing what the mind could paint the instant your eyelids shut and voids of your thoughts began to string and paint the tapestry of a more grand Fresco. In an instant, you could be walking through two large double doors of a large building and within that second of your hand resting on the golden knob as you twist to open it with some satisfied form of glee, a large explosion comes out of nowhere and you're being hurled off through the air, hoping to whatever deity you worship -or if on the offchance you never believed, you instead just merely hope- that you do not die. You don't. Instead, you land on soft ground as a hand grabs your shoulder and urges you to keep moving. In that timeframe, the building is gone. Not destroyed, but out of sight altogether. Now you're in a different scenario in the dream, the kind where you're still on the run for your life, but instead of running out in the open, you're now in the inner sanctums of hell itself, fighting alongside people you call allies. The fight over the strange towering metallic beings leads to victory, but for some odd reason, deep down in your gut, you can't shake the feeling that something else is wrong. That feeling is then assured by the vibrations of the ground below as fire erupts out, a caped figure high above laughing like Hades himself as you and your allies fall into the dark voids of nothingness. What would a bizarre dream be if it didn't have numerous dreams wrapped into one with the most strangest sight ever?

"Yeeesss! Yeeeeesss! he calls out to you like a hoarse snake with a huge cough following afterwards. "Gollum, gollum!" Anyone in their right mind would not follow suit, but stuck in the strange game of the dream you are, and although you can simply think thoughts to change it around, you're still forced to get up and follow the hunched over crawling figure in the darkness as he talks to himself loudly and on the off occasion refers to something as "Preciouses" which you pray to the highest of heavens isn't you. At some point in your mind, you wish you were that thing the strange figure refers to instead of walking to your untimely doom that hits you with the cliche light at the end of the tunnel. At least your eyes would not have been hit by that bright ray of light and when you try to cover your eyes, you find your arms restrained against a cold metal surface. It's not just your arms though; your legs are evenly spread out as well and your chest is held securely under bindings on a table that roughly resembles an experimental table. You hear his chuckled, deep in baritone as if he was a demon as the sight of a glowing red diamond in the shadows in front of you alert you of his presence.

Out comes a figure with skin as pale as snow and cuspids as sharp as The Nosfaratu himself. His hair is jet black and his cape is red like tendrils. Before you can even let out a mutter of fear, he makes his move, lunging out at you with a strange device that buzzes in mechanical whirl, causing the blade at the end to become more menacing than ever. And like every dream that is a nightmare, you spring up from your bed. There isn't a bed though. Instead, you're in a seat on some jet.


For the most part, Marcel had been out cold on the flight to Canada. It was something he needed after all he's been through with his odd makeshift of a family he found among the students at the Academy. Although six weeks had passed, he was always reminded of the dangers not only the school faced, but his own personal demons as well. His dream painted him a very brief, but decent story of his life so far. He had been brought to the Academy after a brief incursion in Dallas broke out with the Friends of Humanity. No sooner than he had joined, he was whisked away to the Mall to rescue a few students that went missing only for the Brotherhood to turn the incident into chaos. He smirked a bit of that thought; it was his first victory to say the least. Pyro was sent hurling out the front doors by a large whirlpool of water thanks to his friend Eli.

Shortly afterwards, there was his first Prom, the night of which left him tipsy from someone spiking the punch bowl. Come to think of it, that was hist first time ever getting a hold to some liquor as well. Even his first time meeting his Roommate, Gabriel. If he kept reminding himself about first times, he may as well blurted out to everyone he was a frigging virgin. Instead, he thought to focus on his next mind frame.

After that came the crazy incident in which he helped others get away from the Sentinels, or the large towering metallic beings that had a huge penchant for hunting down Mutants. It wasn't their idea oh no. It was their creator's idea fueled into his designs. Marcel bet that if Bolivar Trask had something against Homosexuals, they would be next on his list. Unlike their genes however, he highly doubt the male could determine if someone was gay or not. Instead, he focused on the next shift that happened in his dream, them taking their revenge at the Sentinel workshop itself. It was the first time Marcel got a chance to work with the team as a whole as well as come out of his self induced shell a bit. The Brotherhood arrived again, but Marcel never saw Pyro. Instead, their victory was led with a huge explosion and not just in the literal manner. Shortly afterwards, the Mutant Registry Act went down in rubbles like the Academy. That was only after they fought tooth and nail to get out of that hellhole. It literally reminded him of a Xenomorph Hive where you knocked one down and ten more were there to take it's place before the Queen itself came bursting out the walls ready to cause hell with her very short hands and legion of her smaller big head babies. The issue however was that The Queen had escaped with her King. The Mastermold and Trask were nowhere in sight.

Now here they were, weeks later, arriving to Alkali Lake. Where did Mr. Sinister come in at in his dream? It was simple: Marcel would have never ran from his small tabernacle with his father if it was not for him. He would not have gotten into that small incursion with the FoH if it was not for him. The thought of anger boiled over in his mind, but it was drowned down by the next question. Where did Smeagol fit in at in that dream? The young hydrokinetic's eyes shifted down to a thick book in his hands with the name "Tolkien" written under "Two Towers." He chuckled as he finally wiped the beads of sweat from off his forehead. Now he could engage the current ongoing predicaments around himself...That was if he really wanted to. There were numerous voices he could hear around him, but none came close to the cold tone that could slice through thin air like a hot knife through butter. Narcissa was obviously well irritated as usual and it didn't help the fact that it was an Alpha that was talking to her. It would take more than words of trying to increase their chances against another attack to get that tampon that was wedged so deep inside of her uterus out...metaphorically speaking of course. Until then, he simply would try not to cross her path, not because he was afraid of her, but because her personality was becoming a little too annoying for his standards and that was saying much for a team with a leader who seemed to come straight out of Stephanie Meyer horror novel and horror was not meant in a scare me good way either. He had a lot more to fear than a girl's heated ego that otherwise matched her personality.

Besides, what was the point in engaging in on other conversations when they all shared the same common theme: being underground. Marcel was probably the only one that would enjoy every bit of it. He had most of his life hidden away in the first place in case that Sinister being had ever arrived. He did and up to this point, he now understood why his father pretty much sacrificed himself for him to escape. Where his mutation did not manifest until later, his skills at survival were better. He could do a little downtime in the underground hideout. It would even give him a chance to work on some much neglected skills the Academy had him slacking a bit back on. The only thing he couldn't do was cook something decent and Lord have mercy on anyone that even touched whatever he created out of the kitchen. To him, it wasn't bad, but to them, it probably would be a nightmare. There was also the fact that they were surrounded by a lake. A huge fantastic lake he could go swimming in as well as cause a tidal wave of epic proportions. The tidal wave was probably well beyond his means with his level of mutation, but one could only dream. His head hit the back of the seat softly as this was otherwise going to turn out well for him. As the black headphones rested on his ears, the rest of the jet was drowned out by the ghostly tone of Aaliyah's voice. He chuckled a bit as the thought of seeing a few figureheads out of both teams sitting on opposite sides of the Brady Bunch Box with Emma and Scott smiling nicely in the middle as everyone looked around at each other while slowly plotting each other's demise to some degree were hidden under their smiles.

When the announcement of the Jet getting ready to land soon had arrived, Marcel just calmly waited around, fastening his seatbelt as he tapped his fingers on the armrest of the seat, humming lowly to himself.

((OOC: Let me know if I did anything wrong and I will edit lol ))

A brief smile flickered across her features when she heard Blake’s voice, careful fingers brushing dark hair behind her ear. She focused on her words, forcing them to find the southerner through the sound waves in the air.“Yes. But you always come anyway.”

He brought up playing hide and seek and she laughed lightly, remembering one of her earliest summers at the Institute. A far away era from before things started to go wrong. Once upon a time the Xavier School of Learning really had been a haven to her. Yet when her friends and family started steadily dying or disappearing—Her perception shifted.

“It’s not my fault that you’re terrible at hiding. Perhaps you should work on your stealth a little more instead of crying about it, Mr. Tanner.”, her lovely voice held a mocking, teasing tone that that was reminiscent of the songstress from years past. With each passing day she seemed to become more and more the Isabella that she’d used to be, not the frightened creature that jumped at every creak of a floorboard. That wasn’t to say that things were perfect, but there were times when light seemed to break the dark cloud she’d wrapped herself in.

After watching some of her team members go through hell on several missions in a row, the young woman seemed to have broken, for lack of a better term. She thought herself a failure. The Siren had seemed to lose all faith in her ability and her propensity to lead. It was a dangerous road to travel, because without believing in herself and maintaining focus, her powers could turn volatile. As disturbed as she’d been there was a risk that she could have been harmful to herself, and everyone else around her.

Blake helped bring down the possibility, and erase that fear from her mind.

Hearing that the cowboy was trying to get transferred to the Alpha’s was the first bit of good news she’d had in a long while. A long absent smile slid across her features while her gaze turned to Scott. “If you needed help pushing paperwork you could have asked…”

True to her usual gentle disposition, the songstress would didn’t put two and two together. She didn’t realize what kind of distaste the Headmaster held for Blake, or why he preferred him on the Omega’s.

She was also slow to realize that Roland felt like he’d interrupted an important conversation. Usually empathic, her lack of perception was understandably due to Leo’s sudden arrival. Isabella couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard him coming, and with the way she wore her emotions on her sleeve the shock was easily visible on her face. Being underground, trapped in a cavernous facility where the acoustics were off the charts left her feeling helpless. She needed to find her bearings sooner or later. It was going to take a good deal of practice, that she was sure of.

She felt a blush creeping up her neck when Blake called out the fact that she’d been snuck up on and she shot him a dirty look. She wasn’t so far gone that she couldn’t hear someone speaking right beside her. Her nose crinkled while she tried not to grin, arms tightening around her form while she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Shut it, Tanner.”

He always made fun of her, whether it was to make her laugh or drive her up a wall, she’d never know.

Eventually Bella seemed to pull herself back together, as always, the model student. She used the pale bits of humor Blake had left her with to place a perfect smile on her lips, though her eyes seemed far away—guarded against anything that might cause harm. Roland’s sincere apology pulled at her while she answered for Blake, placing a light hand on the large Omega’s arm for a moment. She might have touched someone else on the shoulder, but in this case she couldn’t quite reach. “Don’t be silly. We can always finish up later in the Headmasters Office…It isn’t like we won’t be spending plenty of time around each other. Right Blake?”

The songstress never wanted anyone, Omega or Alpha, to feel unwanted or left out. Besides, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Now that she knew about the transfer she could stop by after they all got settled in to figure out what the holdup was.

Bella let emerald eyes fall to the floor for a moment when Tara arrived, choosing not to point out any obvious innuendo. Normally she might have teased the animal mimic but she simply didn’t know where she stood. Was she allowed to crack a joke with a former or current friend who very well may hate her guts? “Things will look up, I’m sure. It’s just going to be an adjustment…”

If only the earth mover understood the reasons for Isabella’s uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm and cheer. Being underground was the least of her concerns. The fact that the X-Men were cognizant of the danger of the staying at the Institute while the Sentinels were still active gave her hope.

Leonardo caught her eye for a brief moment, and she swallowed hard. There was something to be said for communicating without sound, and it left her feeling hollowed. She wished for a moment that she’d been blessed with telepathy…What she wouldn’t give to know what he was thinking. Everything else aside—Blake was right. He looked like hell. She’d noticed how frazzled the animal mimic seemed to be, his tone not quite right. Despite circumstances she found herself pushing down a mothering instinct, hiding it behind a wall of caution. She wanted to assure Leo that he was safe…

But the last time they’d spoken of his safety, he’d disappeared.

She took a lull in the conversation as a moment to move, passing Blake a pale smile. He would understand her tumultuous thoughts and fears…He always did. For some reason he was the one male in her life where things weren’t incredibly complicated. “I’ll catch up with you in a little while. Call if you need me.”

Isabella led Leo down the hall and around the corner, towards another set of elevators. She did her best to shoulder the silence, trying to pretend like a tense atmosphere didn’t exist. They would need to go deeper into the facility to reach residential quarters for the junior X-Men and it wasn’t really a short walk. She paused when she heard Leo whisper that it was good to see her, a curtain of dark hair hiding her expression. Was it wrong to wonder if she’d misheard him? Taking the chance that her ability wasn’t going bonkers in this fish bowl she bit her lip, finding her voice. “It’s really good to see you too…It was hard—”

She waited for a moment, not wanting to overwhelm him when he’d only just returned. She didn’t trust her own voice. Small threads of emotion slipped through the cracks and her eyes began to sting. She blinked a few times to clear her vision, refusing to do this out in the open. “It can be hard not knowing whether someone you care about is alive or dead. I'm glad you're all right.”

The Alpha leader had always understood his reason for leaving. But when he went out into a proverbial warzone on his own, he’d effectively placed her in his shoes. Leaving her behind to worry endlessly, haunted by the unknown.

Anything else that might have followed was temporarily placed on hold. Lynette approached them, something that confused the sound manipulator. Lyn wasn’t supposed to have arrived yet. A few words out of the lovely red heads mouth told her that she was actually speaking to the other sister. Lyn and Charlotte were as similar as they were different. On visuals alone, she couldn’t tell them apart right away. “Don’t be sorry, it’s easy to get lost.”

“The good news is that you’re on the right floor. We’ve been releasing everyone to the common areas first so they can have a look around—Then their quarters.”, Isabella reached for the young woman’s wrist that bore her comm device and pressed the two slim buttons on the side for around five seconds, bringing her arm up in front of her. The face of the device lit up and a small holographic map popped up. “The blinking red light is where you are. You’re going to want to go straight back down this hallway. If you see Blake, Roland, and Tara they’re pretty much in the right place.”

She smiled, grateful for the small distraction that let her put her feelings back in a box. The box was shabby, held together with duct tape and the grace of god…But she would take what she could get. “As far as I know I haven’t heard of any delays—Professor Summers seemed confident they’d be here soon.”

Letting go of her comm the map disappeared and she stepped back, hands clasping neatly behind her back. “Does that help at all?”

Her head tilted sharply when she thought she heard yelling, the action reminiscent of a hawk listening for a mouse in a field. Her expression changed to something of frustration while she followed the path of the sound wave. “I feel like my heads underwater down here… Sounds just bounce off of everything.”

She really, really needed to get used to this place. Fast. It was disconcerting for her, beyond measure, not to be able to find anyone without focusing deliberately on their person. She spoke aloud, pushing her words to carry back to the group they’d left. It was far more difficult than it should have been. “Is everything okay over there Blake?”

"I'm dying to catch my breath...
Why don't I ever learn?
I've lost all my trust
Though I've surely tried to turn it around.
Can you still see the heart of me?
All my agony fades away--When you hold me in your embrace."

OOC: Let me know if I missed anyone.

▆▆▆▆▆▆ ▆▆▆▆▆▆ ▆▆▆▆▆▆ ▰ ▱ ▰ ▱ ▰ ▱ ⇡⇡ βehind these Ҫ A S T L E Шalls...
IT'S SO EMPTY LIVING BEHIND THESE CASTLE WALLS
IT'S SO EMPTY LIVING BEHIND THESE CASTLE WALLS
IT'S SO EMPTY LIVING BEHIND THESE CASTLE WALLS
XXXXXXXXX ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ⋱⋱ On top of the world is ß E A U T I F U L ⇣ ⇣ but ☼ there's no place to fall ▱ ▰ ▱ ▰ ▱

☼- - - - - - - - - - 》 》
XXXXXXX IF I SHOULD TUMBLE; IF I SHOULD FALL; WILL ANYONE HEAR ME
XXXXXXX IF I SHOULD TUMBLE; IF I SHOULD FALL; WILL ANYONE HEAR ME
XXXXXXX IF I SHOULD TUMBLE; IF I SHOULD FALL; WILL ANYONE HEAR ME

NO BODY KNOWS I'M ALL ALONE
LIVING IN THIS CASTLE MADE OF STONE
I'M TRAPPED INSIDE IT ALL


◆ Team: Omega
◆ Codename: Solaris
◆ Location: X-Jet & New Crib

The blonde goddess stared at Lyn for a long moment, who looked so much like her sister, and yet had half the brain cells. Her head tilted in sheer curiosity. Was she truly that stupid? The answer was clear—She’d been placed on the Alpha’s for a reason.

Charlotte was clearly the better twin.

She sighed as she passed Orchid, mentally burying the notion that Charlotte had a twin sister. Lyn was pretty much a blow up doll in her eyes from this point onward. A plaything, just like any other brat that wore black and blue. Something she couldn’t wait to take a set of very long needles to.

“Fair enough.”, Narcissa responded to Peyton with a smirk when she mentioned taking the whole craft with her. Honestly, she couldn’t find any real fault in it. Death was almost preferable over going underground. “I’ll make sure someone holds onto you while we’re all being sucked out of the airlock.”

“Perhaps this one.”, the blonde woman pointed at Aspen, tossing a light grin over her shoulder as she passed kept doing her not so secretive rounds.

For the most part the cannon fodder, students, whatever the bloody hell they were called these days, seemed to be in good spirits. Or at least decent ones. Though she fought the need to be physically ill with every passing moment their attitudes made her that much more determined to keep her own issues under wraps.

Narcissa knew what it meant to Aren, that she chose to sit next to him, instead of with Kerrigan or alone in the back of the X-Jet. The chuckle that reverberated deep in his chest left her chest feeling tight, her throat suddenly dry—At a loss for words. It was a little too intimate in the dim lighting of the cabin, eroding the careful barriers she’d raised.

It was impossible not to let him in…It felt wrong to keep him at arm’s length, even if that was what leading the Omega’s required of her. She’d never felt such a conflict between her personal life and the needs of her team. They’d always lined up perfectly before.

“I have no bloody idea what you’re talking about Aquene…”, she breathed out after a moment, refusing to admit that his teasing suggestion sounded better than it should have. Her eyes were distant…Lost in thought. Already he eased her inherent apprehension about going underground. Without energy, light—Without the sun… She would be weak. Sick. Just like she’d been in London.

Emma had assured that her needs would be met—But she didn’t exactly trust her after what had happened in Minnesota. Who could? If she thought about it long enough she could still feel the invisible claws of the Shadow King raking against her ribs from the inside.

Narcissa would have been content to sit in silence with the native, his steady heartbeat settling her own, but some idiot Alpha felt the need to interrupt. Shockingly blue eyes rolled towards the blonde t**t, a level of unfathomable hate and distaste growing in her gaze. They bandied words, with Gabriel clearly on the receiving end of well-deserved insults, and not a moment too soon the whining man-child left. “Tame? Would you rather I turned him into swiss cheese while we’re thousands of feet in the air? Did you miss the whole jet crashing conversation from earlier?”

The Red Queen half-heartedly glared at Aren when he insinuated that she’d lost her touch, blue eyes briefly flashing white at the assumption. She couldn’t bring herself to be angry with him, so she default targeted everything around him that she couldn’t stand. “Challenge accepted. Just wait until we’re on solid ground… It’s been at least a month since I’ve made Ruthie want to slit her wrists.”

As annoying as he was, rudely questioning her dedication to ruining lives, she couldn’t help but take his hand in the darkness. It felt more real, more right than anything else. She could feel his eyes on her, no doubt questioning the uncharacteristic action, but she kept looking straight ahead. If she looked in one direction too long, someone else might look too. His touch lulled her, drawing out her apprehension as if it were tangible, like a poison from a wound that could be drained away.

Leave it to Felix to ruin things, effectively ending the moment by drawing the size shifter away from her. Normally she might have yelled at the speedster for being a disgusting moron, but she remained quiet, silently reeling from the intensity of the emotions that passed freely between them. Even after keeping her distance, their bond remained strong.

The chains that she’d trapped Aren in had only grown tighter, more secure.

Just when she thought she might blast the back row of imbeciles out of sheer annoyance and fear, an announcement came across the PA system that caused everyone to fasten their seatbelts. Aren seemed to sense what bothered her and instructed her to breathe, taking her hand once again. He told her that it would be okay, and she froze, shoulders stiffening. “It won’t be. I can’t survive underground.”

He asked if she had any gum, and she shook her head as a negative. She didn’t like the texture of chewing gum much. She only ever snapped it to be obnoxious or if she suspected a breath mint was in order. Her free hand held to the armrest tighter and tighter, her apprehension reaching critical states when the last of the sun was chased away by earth and metal swallowing them up. She forced herself to move, walking on auto pilot while a scream hid itself in the pit of her throat.

Everything in her screamed that this was wrong, that it was dangerous. She needed the sky and high towers…The sun on her face. Shopping malls.

Not this dungeon death camp.

Aren asked her about her room and she didn’t respond for several moments, her arms crossed under her bosom. The end of her cloak swept elegantly behind her as she slowly seemed to shut down to avoid her anxiety. “Scooter doesn’t have a choice but to give me a big room. The UV tank won’t fit in the small ones.”

Hopefully the UV tank would be enough. That, or she prayed their field missions were frequent.


**


“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me.”, she breathed, glacier eyes annoyed and incredulous while she glanced towards Aren. There was already a fight? What surprised her more than that was the fact that it was two Omega’s going at it. She could see an Omega kicking the tar out of an Alpha, but two Omega’s? What the bloody hell?

All of her Omega’s KNEW better. Or at least she’d thought.

Kerrigan had already let them have it by the time she approached, her voice audible while she tried to pry Leion off of Roland. Tanner was already on the scene, an ill-assigned Omega that she honestly couldn’t stand. Her only solace was the fact that she knew the Alpha leader hated the fact that her child hood friend was just another weapon in her armory.

She knew her team. Knew their powers inside and out from constant observance and training. He spent all of his time with Isabella. A turncoat, if there ever was one. She sneered as she passed him while Kerrigan grappled with Leion, heels snapping on the floor with a direct sense of barely contained malice.

The sunlit blonde was on a warpath from being underground… And was twice as violent-sounding to be embarrassed by her team within the first ten steps of landing. Her normally dulcet tones were filled with enough vehemence that those nearest would likely cringe away. “ENOUGH!”

If Kerrigan’s interference, Tanner’s warning, and her furious tone wasn’t enough to snap Leion and Roland out of it, her burning hands on their arms would be enough to cause them to get away from one another—If only to get away from her.

“Restrain him.”, she snarled to Kerrigan, knowing that her second in command, brilliant as she was beautiful, would already be on it.

Her eyes flickered towards the Alpha’s present, hateful gaze ushering in a whole new world of disgust. “Move along, if you want to keep your skin intact.”

The same burning eyes returned to Roland and Leion, her hands resting on her hips—A sure fire sign that she was annoyed.

“—And one of you will tell me –exactly- what the hell is going on. Now.”

Ordinarily, Christian would have been prowling outside, getting a feel for the outside air and memorizing the layout of the surrounding area. After such a long plane ride to get to this base, it certainly would have been the cure to his restless behavior. However, this was Canada, and Canada had snow. Snow was one of the worst deterrents the California-born could have imagined to impede him. Screw that, he wasn't about to roll around in snow, even if he felt suffocated in the plane. The base giving the underground vibe didn't help either, but at least there wasn't any snow inside (at least, he hoped not). He had to beg the team leaders for something to do, just so he wouldn't drive himself nuts from being cooped up.

And here he was: dropping off the other team members' belongings and luggage in their rooms. It wasn't the most exciting of work, but when the alternative was sitting still and waiting for the rest of the group to arrive, it was all he really had. His mutancy would at least prove useful in moving the cumbersome load he carried behind him on a flatbed trolley, allowing him to shift into his larger form for some of the more troublesome cargo. He couldn't even remember what number load this was, and he had already been given the update that another plane full of X-men and luggage had landed. If it wasn't for the fact that it was also the last one, Christian would have flung the nearest bag to the farthest wall, bite marks and tears on the package evidence of his frustration.

He had been assigned to the Omegas not too long ago, and was told that they were the more...hardy half of the two teams. Good, he liked the sound of that. What he was unsure of, however, was the whole situation that made them move to Canada. He wasn't privy to the details, but it had to been something major for the Alphas and the Omegas to be transferred to this icy prison. He was also thankful that his transfer to the Omegas (which he convinced himself was not done at this time just so the Omegas would have an easier time relocating with the extra help) wasn't taken alone: he had friends with him this time.

Specifically, Charlie Ronson. The news that they were both being transferred to the Omegas was a welcome relief to the cold slap that was to location of the relocation: Alkali Lake, Canada. He wouldn't have to spend 2 weeks going the lone wolf route simply because he knew no one else on the team. With Charlie there with him, at least he wouldn't have to sit in his room playing Street Fighter by himself.

Speaking of Charlie, Christian had managed to strongarm the Probability Adept in assist him in his luggage duties. With the amount of work they did already though, they quickly devolved to horsing around and goofing off, the two taking turns to surf on the luggage while the other pulled/pushed the flatbed trolley. No doubt some of the other mutants would question why some of their suitcases and bags had footprints and looked roughed up.

"Having fun on the job is the least we can do for doing all this grunt work. Really, it should be expected." he said aloud, grunting as he pulled the trolley behind him. There wasn't much left on it, but Charlie riding on it did add to the difficulty. He had just reverted to his human form after being in his transformed state for too long left him bored from the lack of conversation (on his end at least. Charlie was still capable of talking). The transformations also meant that Christian wasn't dressed appropriately for the cold air: he wore only cargo shorts and a green hoodie, but frequently removed it when transforming to avoid ripping through more of his shirts and shoes. He had gotten used to the cold floor his soles had been trudging on for a while now, but that didn't stop the chilly air from giving him goosebumps. And yet, he braved it just so could at least offer a human response to some of Charlie's remarks. The hoodie could do little to actually provide the warmth he wanted.

He turned his head back to Charlie, his face colored with boredom. "We're switching after the next drop off." he advised the Arizona native, pulling a little harder on the handle of the trolley to get his attention. He was not about to transform to make the last of the deliveries. He'd make Charlie run the last loads. "Make yourself useful and tell us where the nearest room to drop this stuff off already. It's been a good 15 minutes since we tossed the last bag. I don't want us getting lost on our first day here."

The two turned the next corner, spotting a group of three others talking amongst themselves (Bella, Charlotte, Leonardo), and Christian breathed a sigh of relief. "Hang on, I got a better idea. Let's not rely on your pathfinding skills for the moment." he said aloud, pulling the cart towards the group. He raised his free arm to them and waved, pulling up to them and coming to a halt.

"We're not lost, but we're not above getting some direction. Just in case." he said to them, offering a friendly smile as he reeled back and sat on the trolley with Charlie, grabbing a suitcase that nearly fell off as he sat down. "This place is way too friggin' big to deliver this much stuff."

Location: Lost(Alkalai Lake Base)
Thoughts: This cannot be happening

He had caught Roland off guard and managed to get in a single good shot before being pulled back and restrained. His eyes widened as the dead assembled before him holding him back and speaking to him. But the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, was when his sister, Narcissa, appeared shouting and brandishing her burning hands to end the fighting. His eyes reverted to their usual color and became clouded with tears “Sister I-!” his words were cut off by 'Ravage' extending a blade to his throat, he was saying things that didn't make sense.

"Shapeshifter? What the hell are you talking about Ravage? How are any of you even Alive!?" His voice was rising with anger and wavering from his tears, he wanted to run and embrace his sister but with a sword at his throat he couldn't get far. Too many things didn't add up, why was Ravage answering to his sister and holding back? Narcissa turned to some of the others assembled and gave them a rather disturbing warning before demanding she be told precisely what was going on.

His sister wasn't her normal self, she was more authoritative and confident, Kerrigan's hair had no trace of the black streaks nor the dreadlocks she normally kept it in, Blake still had both of his eyes, and now that he got a closer look at Roland he could see that he was smaller, younger and far less damaged, his right ear was still there and so was his left arm. He still wasn't calmed down but he was thinking more clearly and now he could tell that something was wrong.

He moved his left hand to his face to wipe away the tears and lowered his eyes that were now an embarrassed shade of pink, how could these people not be the ones he knows, where was he and who were these people? "I don't think anyone here knows -exactly- what is going on." he muttered before turning his face back to the people he now knows he didn't know.

Both of her friends seemed exhausted by the long breaths they let out while they talked. “You both gotta quit that.” Gracie complained to both Lillian and Kerrigan, fighting a yawn every step of the way as it stretched her face to its limits. “It's contagious.” And she wasn't even tired. ”I don't like my ears popping this high up.” They'd been talking about what they thought their new sanctuary would be like... though her thoughts, despite the best of reassurances, somehow always landed back on the idea of a dank, bleak, hundred-year-old cellar.

Just the thought of being hidden within the folds of the ground had made a few people testy – Gracie made no hesitation to voice that concern to her two friends. With as tense as the competition between the Alphas and Omegas were, she couldn't imagine the environment not playing some part in escalating feuds into full-blown fights. “Hopefully...” She agreed with Kerri with a slight nod of her head. “But it was enough sometimes to keep people from fighting when we had room to move around...” While the hex manipulator didn't want to be the “Debbie-downer,” she worked with probabilities enough to know the increased likelihood of it.

Felix, Aren, and Raine seemed to be intent on causing a ruckus on the plane – the speedster wadding up spitballs and throwing them randomly at unturned heads. Grinning, Gracie glanced at Kerri, exasperated as one whizzed by and hit Lillian. “Honestly, you'd think he couldn't stand not being the center of attention.”

Timing seemed to be their savior before a full-out riot started between the people on the jet, as the intercom announced they were ready to land. Without realizing it, she sucked in a deep breath and held it until she felt the wheels collide with the ground. She must have ridden in one of the X-jets a hundred times, and yet she always had hated the landing part of the trip. Once the light flickered on that it was safe to stand, she exhaled loudly, clearly relieved. Grabbing her bag and throwing it across her shoulder, the gateway to her hazel eyes closed as she listened to the ground enclose above them.

The air was frosty, still a bite to it from the air above, and her arms instinctively wrapped around each other as though the effort would keep her warmth from evaporating into winter. Kerri linked her arm with hers, and the dark-haired girl pulled closer. “Share the heat!” She exclaimed, already not impressed with the location of their new hideout. In a hurry, they left the hangar and spilled into one of the common areas – students dispersing quickly to make their way to their new dorms. Lillian departed from them then, saying something about how she was off to find Forge. “We'll catch up with you later.” Gracie called after, and then sighed, still in good company with her favorite redhead. “Where to first?”

They of course, went toward the screaming. As they walked in, Leion was assaulting Roland, and Blake pushed them apart. Shrugging, Gracie's mouth pulled down into a frown, doing what she could to help Kerri keep Leion off of her beau-ish person. “And so it starts...” The Omega girl muttered with a disdained shake of her head. Not even two minutes, and her prediction had been correct. Did that count as a record?

Kerri demanded to know what was going on, and Emlen hadn't the slightest clue. “I didn't see this one coming.” After all, the one who'd been gunning for Roland was Aren. As far as she was aware, Leion hadn't any reason to try and pulverize a teammate. She glanced at Roland and scrunched her face teasingly when things seemed to simmer down a little. “Just making everyone mad these days, eh?”