Turn of the Tide, { plot

It seemed that people were all too willing to just forget about the Brotherhood, a move that made little sense to Scott Summers. Tactially confronting En Sabah Nur head on was dicey, especially as long as he had located himself in such an area of high population density and taking most of the top ambassadors for the nations of the world captive. A direct assault would almost certainly lead to human deaths, since the X-Men would be hard pressed to face Magneto on his own let alone En Sabah Nur who they had to assume was at least as formidable as Magneto if not vastly more so. The Brotherhood though were a link to Magneto, and one that even if he had not contacted would be useful. In police work if you need to find out about a criminal, track them down, you seek out past associates. The Brotherhood might know about any bases of operations that Magneto was using, or had used during the planning of this event. If they were working for Magneto now, then it was better to take them out of the game early rather than let them meet up with Magneto and strengthen the hand of En Sabah Nur.

"As I see it," Scott said after some consideration, "we have three basic objectives we need to address right away. The first and most important is securing the students. If Magneto is expecting us to respond to this, then he's going to make the students a target to keep us on the defensive. A small group of us should move them somewhere safe and keep them out of the fray."

"Secondly we need to deal with the Brotherhood. Whether or not they're in on this they know more about Magneto's modus operandi than we do, since the last three times he's attacked us they've been at his side. Either they're helping him, or they may have information about what's going on. With his children in the Brotherhood, we have to assume that they're players in this. If they are not, then we've been successful teaming up with them before. A small team should find them, and find out where they stand," he explained, "We either get a useful set of allies with inside knowledge of how Magneto works, or we take out his support network."

"Lastly once those two steps have been taken we need to send everyone we have who are not protecting the students up against En Sabah Nur. Luring him out of New York and away from such a dense population should be a side objective. We don't need a collateral damage on this operation, if we can do it clean we might actually come off looking like heroes and gain a bit of leverage with O*N*E and the government. Leaving the city looking like Dresden after the war is not going to do us any favours."

He knew of course that his proposed plan of action was not going to pass. Some people needed to come up with a plan in order to be able to support it, and most likely it would require someone like Logan saying nearly the exact same thing in order for people to get on board. Having not been a part of the last big X-Men versus the Brotherhood confrontation he knew his stock in discussion plans was low. Standing around making speeches was not going to get them anywhere, but he knew that this was how the X-Men worked and until either Xavier or one of the other higherups in the organization actually came out and decided on a plan everyone was going to have their go at designing the horse.

This post has been edited by Cyclops on Jul 25 2009, 08:26 PM

[cf>Wingless Death]

She looked a mess, felt a mess, and just barely managed to drag herself downstairs into the kitchen in an attempt to shake her tired spirits and bring a healthier gleam to her sleepless eyes. Unkept viridian curls drooped over her shoulders, against the beige pullover she blindly selected from one of the piles of clothing strewn about her room. She wasn't scheduled to hold any classes today and would enjoy the freedoms of being lazy for as long as the day lasted, perhaps do some much needed tanning, and return normal coloration to her awfully pale complexion. Lorna slipped past any students wandering the cafeteria and went straight for the main kitchen, idly tugging at her sleeves and paying the least bit attention as to why so many of the children were pressed up against the window pane. They were, after all, still young and interested at the silliest of things. They were probably staring at some stray skunk that had meandered onto the lawns from its home in the surrounding forest, or whatever. Opting not to take a peek, the magnetokinetic made a straight stride for the cabinets, retrieving a box of cereal and then a carton of milk from the fridge. Her eyelids were heavy from a solemn, sleepless night - again, blinking about and damn near forgetting what she was doing until milk threatened to bulge over the edge of the bowl and splatter everywhere. Taking a deep breath, in attempt to calm her nerves, she collected her bowl and slid into one of seats at the counter.

She hadn't paid the slightest attention to the radio playing overhead, too busy wiping driplets of cold milk from rolling down her chin with the back of her hand, and hadn't heard the sudden broadcast. But when the ground beneath her gave an unexpected jolt - she was totally alert, fingers digging into the sides of the counter to steady herself so as to not be toppled like her milk and cereal, landing in a mess of ceramic upon floor. The tremors hadn't lasted long, abruptly ending just as they had started, leaving a state of stupor in its aftermath; brightly colored tendrils whipped back in her ascension from her chair, vivid oculars surveying the various messes stemming from the quakes, before she bolted from the room all together.

Polaris ran in the only way she knew how - like the wind. Her initial presumptions - being that the earthquake had come from a adolescent terrakinetic - were then corrected as she rushed past the commons, catching glimpse of a emergency broadcast, and more importantly, the already exiting forms of Rogue and Remy, and she was fast on their heels. A dozen questions bubbled up in her mind with every stride, surely the sentiments of her fellow gathering X-Men. There was no need to inquire about the quake itself, being that office paraphenalia had found its way to the floor, but rather, where did it come from. "Where's Amara?" she blurted, hands finding their way to her hips while emeralds surveyed the their faces. It had been the first idea to pop into her head, still a fried mess, to mention the team's geokinetic. She, undoubtedly, had felt the tremors and could provide them with answers. Stepping from in front of the threshold, she crossed the room, taking a place next to Rogue and paying every ounce of attention she had to the conversing.

One by one the X-Men spoke, delineating all the details she had missed out on while staring down her breakfast. It took the breath from her lungs, not just at the threat of a menancing new villian, but at mention of a returned Magneto. Polaris had expected his defeat at Alcatraz to be the end of him, but that would have been too easy, wouldn't it? He was too alike her - powerful beyond reason, stubborn, always emerging from the darkest of times. Comparison to a megolamaniac like him make the viridian hairs on the back of her neck stand and cold chills run along the length of her slender frame. And in all honesty, she hoped to avoid the subject of Magneto for the rest of her life, even if she had some tingling cognization that he had been around this whole time. Why could she sense his presence like an aura of magnetism, she wasn't sure, and ideas as to why only frightened her. Glassy green eyes cut towards Scott, who, finally, spoke action and not reaction. "I don't know about the rest of you, but ensuring the kids are safe is my number on priority. You're asking us to spread the team pretty thin for three seperate objectives." Lorna spoke loudly, brashly, as if something had offended her. Pursing her lips, she drew her gaze towards the Professor, asking loudly, "So, what do we do?"

[ cf. character limbo ]

Mornings weren't, and never had been, Bobby's thing. Especially not these days, when he really had no purpose in getting up before two in the afternoon. The only times that he actually went out of his way to wake up early were those rare occasions that they had a mission of some sort, or if there was some cartoon on. And even then, he usually had something to wake him up in time; be it an ear-splitting alarm or mental command in the first case, or the sound of giggling children in the second. And today was, at first, no different. Despite the fact that he'd fallen asleep early the night before, after drinking quite a bit more than he would have liked, he was still snoring rather loudly by the time dawn swung around, body splayed out across his bed and his hair sticking out every which way. But even he couldn't sleep through such a racket. Mechanical whirring, a sound quite similar to that of the Blackbird taking off into the sky filled the air, flooded his head, waking the still-inebriated man from his sleep. A glance out the window offered him a glance of those giant robots, or as he liked to call them, Megazord-wannabes, disappearing into the sky and leaving him thoroughly confused. But, figuring that it would make much more sense for him to figure out what was going on later in the day, he fell back onto the pillow, ignoring the pounding headache that refused to ease up even the slightest bit.

Several hours later and his sheets pooled on the floor due to his incessant shifting in his sleep, he was awoken by the sound of his television, mounted on the opposite wall, clicking on. At first, he was confused as to how it could possibly be acting of it's own will, as it seemed to be doing, but his mind quickly reminded him that he'd programmed it to do so. Technology. What a wonderful thing it was. Propping himself up against the headboard, azure orbs watched with casual interest as spandex-clad heroes pranced around the screen, slapping around humanoid robots like they were misbehaving prostitutes that hadn't paid their money. Sure, it was rather odd for a man of his age and, although he would use the term loosely, maturity, to be watching a children's show, let alone Power Rangers, but there was really nothing better on this early in the morning. Or so he thought. Flipping through the channels with one hand, the other scratching sub-consciously at his inner thigh, he found himself not only coming to a halt on a channel that normally displayed breaking news stories, but having his eyes widen as well at what he saw. "The hell?"

There was some old dude, as Bobby would so eloquently put it, sitting there, looking quite serious and having smoke billow upwards from around his feet, as though somebody had just dropped a smoke machine down there for dramatic effect. While many of his peers and comrades would, as he would come to realize later, be taking this report seriously, he really wasn't. Rather, his mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was some War of the Worlds-eqsue situation, where the creator of said story would have done so just to freak out the world at large. Nothing but a joke, essentially. But when his gaze moved from the unfamiliar, almost alien-like being to the man sitting beside him, he realized that this was no joke. No, this was serious. For there sat the man, and many others had grown to fear, the cranky old windbag himself, Magneto, looking just as creepy as ever. A slight shudder overtaking his otherwise calm, yet confused demeanor, he turned up the volume loud enough that he would be able to catch every word that was being said.

His voice was deep, yet able to say what needed to be said without any confusion, even if what he said was hardly believable. But of course, being the 'mature' individual he was, the fact that this man was speaking of obliterating the human race wasn't the first that occurred to him. Rather, it was why in the hell this man was using such a stupid name. En Sabah Nur? What the hell kind of name was that? Sounded like some bad ripoff of a TV show villain from the 80's, in Bobby's personal opinion, but even with that said, he took what this man said to heart. This man was not to be taken lightly, that much was for sure. A statement of Armageddon following the first words of the man, not only did Bobby's entire body, but the entire world seemed to shake, leaving him dazed, shocked, and confused in it's wake. Not even able to come up with a joke at this display, the cryokinetic felt one emotion slowly take precedence in his mind. Fear. If Magneto had been such a threat to them in the past, then this man was... he couldn't even come up with a word to describe it. All he knew was that he had to seek out the Professor and his fellow X-Men. And fast.

Pulling a t-shirt over his head that was at least half clean, he made his way out of his room and down the hallway, the cryptic words of this man, this... Apocalypse, staying with him along the way. Bare feet sticking slightly to the floor as he made his way towards the Professor's office, he halted at the head of the stairs as he saw a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and seemingly terrified blonde make her way hastily out of the building, leaving him both confused and somewhat interested as to who this woman was and why she was here. But that really wasn't what he was supposed to be doing, as he subconsciously reminded himself, and he hastily finished his trek towards the telepaths office,pushing the door open and stepping inside, words already flooding from his mouth in a series of questions that even he wasn't sure made any sense. "Professor, what's going on? I mean, this morning the Sentinels left, and now there's this weird wrinkly dude on the TV, and Magneto's there, obviously alive, although he really should be dead by now- seriously, how old is that dude- and-" Words halting as he realized that he was standing in a room full of his peers, both older than him and those his age, in his frog-themed boxers, obviously interrupting what was clearly a very important conversation. "...Awkward. I guess what I'm trying to say is... explanation?"

CF always there_a mentor

Jean-Paul wasn't much for television. He thought that it killed brain cells, and unless you were watching something essential, there were much better things you could do with your time. It was television that made America once of the fattest nations in the world. The people that spent all their times in front of television ruined America. Jean-Paul only watched films on television, when he was going to sleep. But tonight was different...it was the same as the last twenty three nights. Ever since Jeanne-Marie, his lost twin sister, has ran away from him, he had kept the television on all night, and slept beside it in an arm chair in case she came back. It was sad and weird, and since her 'Aurora' persona had probably taken over, she would be sunning it up in Mexico somewhere. He was sure that Aurora didn't care his sister didn't like to reveal her flesh. He was sure Aurora didn't care she didn't like drinking. He hated that...that girl controlled his sisters body. And if ever life calmed down at the X-Mansion, he would literally run over every inch of the world until he found her. Even with super speed that would take months and...he just didn't have that kind of time spare on his hands. The kids were important. And although Jeanne-Marie was his sister, these people were just as much his family. He had friends here, he had people who looked up to him. He couldn't just abandon them to go gallivanting around the world looking for his sister who could move just as fast as he could. He could look forever and never find her.

But, going back to the television, there was nothing else to do. He had ordered six original hard back French classics, but they would take weeks to come and giving the mansion had been shown to be teaching mutants in what the media were calling an army, the book people coming to the door to deliver the books he so desperately craved, was unlikely. Flipping through the channels, Jean-Paul paused on a cooking show that were talking about preparing some Spanish dealy, and Jean-Paul thought about getting up and going to the Kitchen, to watch and make at the same time. The mansion had cooks, to help feed the 'army' but Jean-Paul liked to add his own culinary expertise to the mansion. But knowing that the food wouldn't last long in a house filled with hungry teenage boys, Jean-Paul decided against it. Uncrossing his legs, and then crossing them again Jean-Paul tried to lean down into the chair, and have a small nap but...it wasn't going to happen. His body worked so fast that as soon as he woke up, he was going on full speed. He couldn't sleep until he had exhausted himself out during the day...or he went on a run. He had been up four hours now, and had watched the sentinels fly away, leaving their posts like bad doormen. Now all the little mutant children could do things like steal and murder with their ungodly powers. Bad sentinels for leaving, there were so many dangerous things living here. Laughing Jean-Paul stood, and walked to his large window, staring at the spot where the sentinels once stood, Jean-Paul felt a wight go off is shoulders. They were really gone...if they came back, then Jean-Paul wouldn't really care...after all they weren't doing any damage.

Seeing his tall reflection in the window, Jean-Paul smoothed down his jumper before walking back to his chair. Even in the heat of May, Jean-Paul liked to dress properly. And he didn't class heat as a reason to dress down. Right now the Canadian speedster was wearing tailored to fit black trousers, with a matching blazer over the top of his whit wool turtle neck sweater. On his wrist he had his silver watch, and his feet were being hugged and massaged at the same time by his expensive, black Italian loafers. Some people thought of shoes as just something to put on your feet, but Jean-Paul knew that the finer shoes made you feel like walking on air. And Jean-Paul had walked on air...he knew what it felt like. But instead of sitting in his favorite, comfy arm chair that he had, had imported from France, Jean-Paul just stood watching the news. There were two figures on the screen talking, and since Jean-Paul had muted the screen he couldn't hear a word but...he recognized one of them. Magneto! So the terrorist was back, and this time he had brought a friend. The first thought in Jean-Paul's head was that someone was playing a trick on him...or someone was doing a show about Magneto. But no one played tricks that were 'that' serious, and Magneto was a hated terrorist...no one would make a television show about him. But the last Jean-Paul had heard, was that Magneto had been depowered and was living life as a human...or he was dead. No one had been sure, but now he could see him. And the man next to him, though his words were muted seemed to give off an aura of menace and evil.

Rushing out of his door, but not at super speed, Jean-Paul kept looking in on rooms like the kitchen, and the library, but both were abandoned. A quick glance into the common room, showed that a large number of students had gathered together to presumably watch the news. Racing past, knowing they were safe Jean-Paul, Jean-Paul stumbled. At first he thought it was over some discarded school bag, or a forgotten book...but the shaking that had knocked Jean-Paul's feet out from under him, was still going...an Earthquake. Those were rare in this part of the country, and Jean-Paul was sure that if a natural one was coming Storm would have warned them so they could have gotten the students to a safer location. so someone was causing an earthquake...he doubted a student would have the power to do that, so the only other answer was the man on the news. Magneto didn't have the power to do that, so it was the gray skinned man or some other of Magneto's flunkies. After a short while of rocking ,the world slowly came back into focus and Jean-Paul was able to stand, racing to Professor Xaviers office, this time with super speed. Arriving at the door, Jean-Paul slowly opened the door, after seeing it close by Robert Drake, the Iceman. Stepping in, Jean-Paul let his ice blue eyes scan the room, Storm, Wolverine, Professor Xavier...all the big players were here. That meant that whatever had happened on the screen, was involved with the X-Men. "Do we know whats going on?"

This post has been edited by Jean-Paul Beaubier on Aug 3 2009, 09:15 PM

[CF: Character Limbo]

Even for someone having spent years of his life living at Xavier's, a place that was subjected to unusual phenomena on a daily basis, an earthquake was nevertheless something you took notice of. As the rumbling started and the tremor commenced, the Irish mutant known as Banshee was making his way toward the mansion kitchen with the intention of finding something edible. Having gotten halfway there through the long hallways from the adult dormitories, Sean was caught by surprise as the very ground shook underneath his feet. Taking a few graceful steps toward the nearest wall, Cassidy held one hand firmly against the vertical surface, trying to retain his footing. Watching as paintings and exclusive china fell off the walls and the chandeliers wobbled and swung back and forth from the ceiling, Sean couldn't help but to wonder if this was a natural display of Mother Nature’s erratic power, or something created by a mutant. The latter alternative sounded far more likely considering they were all currently on the east coast of the United States, earthquakes being about as frequent as snow in July. No matter the cause, the tremors stopped as quickly as they had begun, leaving fairly little destruction to the mansion, something that in Sean's book was good. He'd be darned to say it, but he started to wonder how Charles was able to constantly rebuild the mansion and replace the valuables inside his home. As far as Sean knew, Xavier's mutant power was telepathy, not turning matter into gold.

When the world had finally stopped jumping and shaking, Sean decided that his meal would have to wait. This could all have been a student or X-man having a fit with their powers, and the whole thing would soon be forgotten, but if it was something else, Banshee wasn't going to sit around rolling his thumbs. It wasn't in his nature to sit idly by, and when things got complicated and you needed answers, there was one room in particular that you headed toward for answers. While the sonic mutant wasn't a teacher per say, more or less acting as a sub for the time being and helping out wherever he could, he had still made himself fairly acquainted with the faculty offices since the time of his return to the X-men. Making his way down the stairs from where he had been, and down into the main entre-hall, Sean passed a knocked over bookcase and the thousand pieces of a broken mirror on his way toward Charles' office. Catching glimpse of a woman he thought he recognized, although he barely had time to see anything except her blond hair and strict attire before she exited through the front-door, Sean decided not to follow her, instead he navigated through the maze of doors until he found the one that belonged to the headmaster himself.

Finding the door already open, and a large number of his peers already present, Sean decided to simply listen in, the majority of those that had gathered here more than likely having come to ask the same questions as he had. What was this earthquake about? Had it been natural or not? Did it affect just the school or a larger area? No doubt that if anyone present knew anything about this, they would tell the rest of them. The X-men were a team after all, and there was no reason to withhold important information from teammates. Having entered in the later part of a conversation Sean only got a fragmented picture of what was going on, various members of the Xavier's faculty wanting to take different actions in the light of whatever was happening. Concern for the students, tactical ideas and plans of action, questions and statements were all voiced. But among the words and names uttered, a few things stood out among the others. Magneto, the Brotherhood and En Sabah Nur. The first two were known to the Irishman since way back, Magneto and his Brotherhood having been a constant problem for Xavier and his X-men, even since Magneto and Charles had their falling out, ending with Erik Lensherr’s departure and the subsequent formation of his Brotherhood. Sean had been under the impression that the master of magnetism had died or disappeared however, seeing as he hadn't resumed to power after the mutant cure wore off. Obviously, Banshee had been wrong.

The name En Sabah Nur didn't ring a bell however and the red-haired former Interpol agent was starting to think there was something big he had missed entirely. Listening as young Bobby Drake and the Canadian Beaubier asked the same thing that was on his mind; Sean nodded slightly, one eyebrow raised as he mirrored their request. "Aye, an explanation would be appreciated" Thick Irish accent formed the words, as he hoped that one of the X-men had an answer, or at least could shine some light on what they were going to do next, Sean waited for one of them to speak up. It was only natural that some of them would be getting to the office later than the others, and Sean didn't like being kept out of the loop, especially not if things were as serious as the atmosphere in the room suggested. "Who's this En Sabah Nur fella then?" Arms folding over his t-shirt clad chest, Cassidy remained at the doorway, the former private investigator's attention utterly devoted to the fellow mutant in the office. Sooner or later he'd have to be filled in on what was going on, and Sean would rather have it happen sooner rather than later.

[OOC: Saving time and NPCing Xavier in one go.]


Quiet motivation and a steely determination to drop kick that delusional bastard before both he and his brand new crony laid so much as a fetid fingertip upon another living being locked feminine musculature into expectant rigidity. Plump lips parted and there was no doubt that Rogue was ready to move out at the first signal, should the Professor see fit to give it. Gloved hand dropped from its temporary resting place near closed eyes and the Southerner swivelled on her heel, turning away from the television screen and facing the gathered group at large even as the next wave of bewildered X-Men tumbled in, making breathing space an increasingly tight issue. Within the next few moments, Piotr had turned a panicked ear to Marie’s roundabout words and took them with literal intention, and that purple-tressed telepath had slipped her way through the half-closed portal only to have Bobby skid in on her proverbial coat-tails. Apparently, this emergency was urgent enough for the cryokinetic to forget half of his clothes in the process, and emerald eyes were drawn downwards by some kind of magnetic compulsion; taking in the Iceman’s bare feet, pale legs... and a pair of boxers decorated with tiny green frogs that might have been more suited to someone half his age.

Corners of the untouchable woman’s mouth twitched up into an almost indiscernible smirk and slender brow arced high in slow amusement, before attention was pulled elsewhere by Lorna – stationed solidly at her side, hands parked on her hips in a gesture of passive sternness. Indeed, the verdant-haired magnetrix was close enough that Rogue could all but feel her bristling – much like the poison-skinned mutant herself was – at the mere mention of Magneto’s name, antipathy seething from her pores in waves. Marie couldn’t say she honestly blamed Polaris, either. After all these years, after the excruciating pain Erik Lehnsherr had caused her; that brutal plundering that had left her mind utterly violated and her hair permanently scarred, after the chaos he had caused for all of their kind, the Mississippi native had found some comfort in the fact that he might have found his comeuppance upon Alcatraz Island. The bad never stay down, that much was as true as any, and Marie clenched her jaw just that little bit tighter. Demanding as her diatribe was, Lorna certainly had a point; no amount of firepower against Apocalypse would mean a damn thing unless those they strove to keep safe were well guarded and as far out of harm as they could get. Drawing in a long breath, somewhat calmer in the wake of Storm’s placatory words, Rogue took a moment before speaking.

“The kids oughta be right outta the way,” molasses tones maintained in agreement, punctuated by a small, solemn nod. “We ain’t takin’ a chance to come back and bury our own. Not again.” Vivid opticals flicked in Scott’s direction, fixing him with a steady stare. “Sayin’ that, Ah’d reckon the end of the world tops terrorism this time ‘round. Brotherhood are the lesser of two evils, we beat ‘em to the ground and Apocalypse gets his way, it’ll all be for squat.” There was no way Mystique and her crew would take up with Magneto again, not after all the wrongs he had committed against the blue-hued shapeshifter whom he had claimed to hold in such high regard. Gaze passed from Ororo to Logan, concurring with their sentiments, and at long last deep chartreuse rested on the Professor himself – much like every other pair of eyes currently in the room. To this moment, the bald headed telepath hadn’t uttered a solitary word; still and unmoving since the earthquake had subsided, fingertips pressed to the sides of his cranium and scowl of concentration cut firmly into his brow. Only now, in the wake of so many questions, did he straighten his position – head lifted and cloudy opticals sliding upwards to regard the crowded office, concentrated on each of his X-Men in succession and apparently rather unmindful of the minor destruction that tremor had caused.

“I am fine, Ororo,” strong tones began, broad palms placed flat on the surface of the man’s desk with inching exactness. “Please stay Miss Braddock, I insist. You have as much requisite to be here as anyone else. That psychic feedback did indeed hold the same signature as that of the tremor in District X, and I am certain that we are not the only ones to have felt it.” Steely gazed turned to Emma, newly re-emerged from her crystalline form. Thin lips pressed together and Charles strove to extend the reach of his telepathic capabilities, reaching out to touch the cognizance of all the children currently residing within the mansion; a psychic contact with intention to warm and soothe, encouraging them to remain where they were rather than causing further agitation. Narrowing his perceptions still further, Xavier concentrated his focus solely to the institute’s telepaths. •O You have just experienced an immense psychic shock. Do not be alarmed, the feedback will settle momentarily. O•

Pulling in a slow, deep breath, Charles turned his attention to the backlogged barrage of questions that had been thrown his way with studied patience. “As for what my old friend’s designs might be, Logan, I cannot claim to know the deeper workings of his conscience. Not even after all these years. Like attracts like and power yields to power, but I never thought his ego to be so large.” Indeed, after four years of having settled into obscurity, not to mention the methods by which Erik had found his depowerment, to reappear in such a fashion was frankly disturbing. For the moment, however, there were far more important matters to attend to. “Scott is right, the children must be protected. I have a safehouse set up outside of the city; I will give Forge and any adults remaining behind details of its location, and they will act as guardians until the threat passes.” Short pause followed, in which the bald telepathist took to pressing the tips of his fingers together once more, lines of his brow creased deeply in consideration as cloudy gaze drifted back towards the television screen. So far as Mystique and her followers went, they couldn’t ask for more questionable collaborators. Still, he could not fault either Logan or Ororo’s respective logic; given the choice, the Brotherhood leader would much rather watch her own back rather than run back to Magneto with any kind of speed. “Under the circumstances, I believe differences should be set aside in the face of something that is clearly bigger than us all. If the Brotherhood can be found and reasoned with, an alliance would be--” The venerable man’s dialogue was cut off in the next instant, seemingly by nothing... but the low hum of psionic vibration had already reached the very core of the Professor’s advanced cerebellum, carrying a voice of low, deep timbre that was recognised almost instantly as it carried across the Astral Plane.

::-Xavier. I believe we need to speak.-::

Remaining silent for a moment, Charles’ brow tightened still further. Evidently, thoughts of a convergence of forces had not been far from the thoughts of their most enduring antagonists. Raising a hand with palm facing outward in request for temporary leash on inquiries, he proceeded to reach out towards Exodus’ psychic summons.

•O Bennet. I believe we do, no doubt you are more than aware of the matter at hand. O•

::-More than you can imagine, Charles. For the moment, I think it is time we set aside this feud.-::

•O For the good of us all, I think you may be right. If the Brotherhood is willing to make a stand and your leader happens to share that opinion, we would be willing to form a coalition in hope of averting Apocalypse. O•

Momentary pause followed that particular comment... presumably in the interim, said metamorphic leader was giving her final approval.

::- There is no alternative, and she has acknowledged this fact already. I can assure you our compliance. -::

•O Very well. Gather yourselves towards the institute, you will be expected. There is no time to waste. O•

::- Then it is settled. Until we have cast out this blight on the world, the X-Men and the Brotherhood shall be aligned. We shall join you at your headquarters momentarily. -::

And with that acquiescence, the telepathic connection between both men was severed. Lowering his hand and placing upon the thin file that Valerie had left behind, Xavier addressed the room at large once more. “There will be no need to seek out the Brotherhood in person. I have just been informed by Exodus that their interest in joining forces is just as great as ours. I wish that I had more information to give you... but for now, time is of the essence and the briefing will take place in the War Room – they will join us there. I will contact everyone else who must be in attendance. We must move out immediately.”

That was all the incentive Rogue needed. At the mere mention of Mystique and her cronies coming within a mile of the mansion, let alone anywhere within its walls, the Southerner’s posture shifted and tensed still further. Gloved fingers flexed and the scowl on her brow deepened in disapproval, jaw clamped hard against the flurry of argument that now wrestled to be released from her tongue. It seemed that the decision had already been made, however, and whether the Brotherhood’s involvement would prove to be help or hindrance remained to be seen. With another tersely succinct nod, the dually haired woman turned on a booted heel and made for the office’s portal, past Northstar and the newly-arrived Banshee, trusting that the rest of her teammates would be following close behind. Time was short and need was great, as the Professor had suggested. They had a world to save.

((Exit Rogue, TBC: War Room))

(Briefing thread will be up in War Room forum soon – all active X-Men should proceed there, whether present in this thread or otherwise.)

All the events that had been leading up to this went unannounced to the X-Men and the rest of the world. Perhaps those closest to Apocalypse had known what was going to take place yet the rest of them couldn't have seemed to fathom it. Lowering his eyes to the floor Piotr went quiet after the others managed to answer his question. What they had to have seen was something bad was not so much in his mind; Peter knew that he was going to regret doing something like this and every time they went on a mission with the others he felt the same way, his mind always on how bad things could go and how dark they could be for a time after. Just like the events in District X he had grown worried over the fact that something bad was indeed going to happen. First it was the events at Liberty Island, then it was Dark Cerebro and the attack of the mansion. Following that there came Alcatraz and then District X. Unfortunately they had to have foreseen this in some way and even Xavier was unaware.

Peter was at a loss for words.

It took a moment for him to collect himself, bothered by something that had nothing to do with the current earthquake or those that had succeeded in inciting fear into the world, but it was something troubling nevertheless. As everyone spouted their ideas and what could be going wrong Peter moved out of the way of others and their conversation, instead opting to remain near a window and draw the curtains aside. He knew that it was a day that should have been dark but it was still bright, so to speak. Or at least he thought it was. Maybe it was the events playing a trick on his mind or maybe it was...something else entirely. Peter was confused and lost in his own mind, not wanting to see the evil that was coming at them faster than they could recover. Even Xavier was perturbed by this and no one could say anything of consolation. Colossus didn't think he was going to be of any help yet he didn't want to speak his mind. There was no reason to do such a thing when it seemed such a useless attempt.

“Scott is right, the children must be protected. I have a safehouse set up outside of the city; I will give Forge and any adults remaining behind details of its location, and they will act as guardians until the threat passes.” He heard that and remained a certain safe house that he'd taken the students to back when the X-Men had been absent from the mansion. They had gotten to safety relatively easy, him carrying Jones to safety as well as saving a few others that he felt didn't owe him anything. He still had no idea how they felt about the entire thing but he was willing to take the offers of assistance that they would give. Ignoring his own thoughts for a moment he kept listening to the Professor, his mind no longer churning over the idea of losing in this one. There was always that one battle that would one day take away his life or the life of someone that he loved. “Under the circumstances, I believe differences should be set aside in the face of something that is clearly bigger than us all. If the Brotherhood can be found and reasoned with, an alliance would be--” Xavier went silent and Peter could not figure out why, watching him for a moment and waiting for that speech to continue.

Was it going to continue?

Just when he'd thought that the awkward situation could not get any more awkward than it already was the elder man had started speaking again. “There will be no need to seek out the Brotherhood in person. I have just been informed by Exodus that their interest in joining forces is just as great as ours. I wish that I had more information to give you... but for now, time is of the essence and the briefing will take place in the War Room – they will join us there. We must move out immediately.” What?! Peter narrowed his eyes this time, feeling that hot boil of anger that only came up at the mention of the Brotherhood and their presence over the X-Men as well as their students. Mystique and the others at the school? Was Professor Xavier out of his mind? While Peter normally didn't get angry he was not going to stand for this and most definitely wasn't going to risk the students being subjected to the violent ways of the mutant terrorists. Without another word however he turned just as Rogue had, not happy in the least and unwilling to show that anger in any form other than going to the War Room as asked. Surely though the fact that out of his anger he felt he could protect himself simply by covering his skin in that hard and durable steel. Rarely would the Russian get angry but for some reason, with the stress of the past few days and the idea of the world ending looming over his shoulders, he was becoming more and more unnerved. That was saying something when it came to Piotr Rasputin, the Colossus of Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning.

[ Exeunt Colossus : TBC: War Room ]