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 Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2015 5:48 pm
✖▐ A C A D E M Y: Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Metamorphosesxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx▃▃ ✖ ▐ S t o r y ↓ ▃▃▃▃▃▃ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃xxxxxxxThis story begins several months after Maddy left the X-Men, and returning to Boston, filling in the blanks of her time away from the team.
Despite her efforts to get out of the super-hero game and live a normal life, Maddy Doyle finds herself unable to stay away from old habits. This apparent obsession with risk-taking in the name of "heroism" of hers is only set to worsen when a rash of disappearances and murders start cropping up around her. But was she right to try and get out of the business while she could? And what does it mean for her future?
xxxxxxx▃▃ ✖ ▐ C h a r a c t e r s I n v o l v e d ↓ ▃▃▃▃▃▃ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ xxxxxxxMadison Doyle - Nevar Was the Hatter
xxxxxxx▃▃ ✖ ▐ D e v e l o p m e n t s ↓ ▃▃▃▃▃▃ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ xxxxxxxTo be added
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2015 5:52 pm
Metamorphosis - Pt. 1 - Old Habits 
Madison Doyle sat atop the giant glowing Citgo sign in Kenmore Square. The spring night was warm enough for early spring, but the breeze coming across the Charles River had made her wrap herself up in her cloak. She had tried to adjust the bow on her back into a comfortable position, with no real luck. The girl swung her legs absentmindedly, as she watched the last of the crowd of people adorned in the red and white colors of the Red Sox filtering down the street towards the subway station. She hadn’t exactly been able to see the giant scoreboard from this distance, but judging by the energy of the crowd and the shouting of drunks, it hadn’t gone too well.
Still, it made her smile. Maddy loved this town. She really did. Admittedly, as of late, that had been rather hard to do. Initially, when the anti-mutant sentiment across the country started to pick up steam once again (honestly it was only a matter of time), she had really hoped Boston would stay sane enough. The city itself was so full of students like her that she figured it would be progressive enough to keep a level-head. Fear, though, does funny things to people. It’s easy enough to idealize how an immigration crisis should be handled, for instance, when you’re thousands of miles away from where it’s happening. Less easy is staying sane when buildings on your block are being leveled by a guy in a crazy outfit shouting about mutant independence.
Maddy had been in Boston for a few months at this point, though, admittedly, not consistently. She had actually left the Xavier School several months ago. When an opportunity to study at MIT had presented itself, she took it up. Not without any thought, of course, but, if truth be told, Maddy was simply burnt out from being an X-Man. The constant missions, near-death experiences, attacks on the mansion, and the soap opera lives of her teammates had become too much for her. She couldn’t be a super-hero any more.
But if that were true, she thought, then why am I wearing this cloak again?
After a time, the crowd had faded, and the lights of Fenway stadium were dimmed. Most of Kenmore had cleared out, save some students walking home from late night classes, or Sox fans stumbling out of bars. Sighing, Maddy swung her legs to the side, and forced herself to stand up. Slowly, she started walking to the maintenance ladder on the side of the sign. As she took one last look over the square, a sudden, raspy yell came echoing up the side of the buildings from the alley behind her. It was so sudden and filled with such terror that it nearly surprised Maddy so much she risked falling off the sign.
Running to the ladder, Maddy spun herself around, and slid down it. Dashing to the edge of the building, another scream came from below, raising the hairs on the back of Maddy’s neck. People in the area were giving each other concerned looks, though several cops who were left over from paying security guards near the game seemed to notice nothing. Maddy’s boots hit the rooftop hard coming off the ladder, her knees buckling.
Pulling the bow off her back, Maddy ran to the edge of the rooftop, and, with a thought, a purple and black psy-blade formed itself on the pulled-back string. Squinting through the shadows that the Citgo sign cast, Maddy attempted to scan the alley below. Initially, she saw nothing. No screams came from the alley, and the only thing that she could hear was the low buzzing of the sign’s lights behind her, and the pounding of blood in her ears.
The silence was worse than the screams.
  That's it, it's split, it won't recover.
Just frame the halves and call them brothers.
Find your fathers and your mothers,
if you remember who they are.
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