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Post by Phoenix on Apr 28, 2005 18:05:28 GMT -5
"Thousands flee from an upper Manchester subeberb as homes are being evacuated from the immediate vicintity... Aproxaimatly 4 city blocks in the range of the attack, homes devestated.... Smouldering wreckage and flattend cars... Mutant terrorists suspected as the lead suspect in the attack.This is Lindsey Tanaka with your 9:00 News, reporting live."
Jean lay on the living room couch, either unconcious or asleep, one leg swung over the edge, smoking slightly. In the remains of a familiar black evening gown, her hair loose and spread out on the sofa cusion, the edges of the gown were charred and her feet were bare. She slumbered on, completely oblivious to the panic that had taken New York by storm, as a picture of a huge firebird over a once uptown Manchetser suberb flashed on the television screen.
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Post by John Doe on Apr 28, 2005 22:07:55 GMT -5
"Shame isn't it?" John came in and turned off the TV. He was keeping his eyes off Jean because he knew of he saw her he wouldn't be able to stop looking at her. Colors were too distracting, he had decided. The world was much less confusing in black and white. "You know, I've noticed there are two different kinds of people in this world. Those who walk into rooms and instinctively turn the TV on and those who walk into rooms and instinctively turn them off."
(Who ever can tell me what that's a quote from gets a cookie)
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Post by Phoenix on Apr 29, 2005 17:25:50 GMT -5
Jeans eyes flickered open, and she roled over, sitting up stiffly. "Hu- What?" She blinked a couple times. "Oh, yes. Television; mankinds way of weeding out the minds without the attention span to sit down and read." She stretched slowly, looking something like a sleepy jungle cat. "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you? Anything good on?"
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Post by John Doe on Apr 29, 2005 22:31:39 GMT -5
"Wouldn't know," he said, "I make it a personal goal to go through everyday without seeing television scheduling in my head."
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Post by Phoenix on Jun 17, 2005 17:36:31 GMT -5
"A-" Looking down, her eyes flashed red, for only a split second, and she turned her gaze towards the television screen. The commercials had passed and the News was back on, showing coverage from a smoking wreck, a'mutant terrorist attack'. Her jaw clenched, she looked like she was going to be sick, the lights in the mansion flickering. "Wha... Who...." She jumped to her feet. "What went on? Why didn't anyone...?!"
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Post by John Doe on Jun 18, 2005 12:56:45 GMT -5
"Whoah! Jean calm down!" John stood by her side as if attempting to restrain her. "You know the media always jumps to mutants as the reason for all the world's problems."
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Post by Phoenix on Sept 15, 2005 18:21:24 GMT -5
"But there could be..." She instinctivly sent out a psionic 'net', laying in 4 or so miles in each direction, about 3 miles more than she should be able to. "People could be trapped. We need to help." Her eyes were distant as she focused. In a few seconds, the molocules of her evening dress, which she had no recollection of putting on, had shifted to her X-Men uniform. "I'll call Logan and Will..."
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Post by John Doe on Sept 15, 2005 21:48:31 GMT -5
"Good idea," John nodded. Then it dawned on him, he could finally use his power for something well.. useful. Finding trapped people definately qualified as useful.
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Post by Phoenix on Sept 15, 2005 22:25:13 GMT -5
(( For Logan/John you should just put Logan in [these] or something, to avoid the whole switching accounts. Just an idea ^__^ ))
Catching John gently by the arm she pulled him towards the lower levels, telekeneticly opening and closing doors, flicking on lights and, in her rush of adreniline, switching on the blackbird controls, all the while calling down Logan and Will. She'd need all the help she could get, without endangering any students. Turning to Will she pulled something out of a chrome cabinet and set it in his hand. "This is a communicator. I will establish a telepathic link between us, but just in case." Handing him a medium sized black bag with numerous pockets, she added; "Basic First Aid kit. Once again, in case you can't get to the medical facilities quickly enough." She pulled out three other communicators and three other medical bags.
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Post by John Doe on Sept 16, 2005 22:37:03 GMT -5
{"Like that'll do him a lot of good," Logan said as he entered the Blackbird. "First aid doesn't really help a dead guy."}
John watched quietly. Both the colors of Jean and Will were very distracting and he kept wanting to talk about hospital facilities, but he managed to restrain himself.
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Post by Phoenix on Sept 17, 2005 16:12:06 GMT -5
She gave a heisitant smile, saying quietly, "Well, were hoping to get there before anything else can happen." Turning her back on them to climb into the Blackbirds pilot seat she double checked that Will was coming and started flicking switches. "And so help me God, when I get my hands on the bastard that caused this."
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Post by Deathdealer on Sept 17, 2005 16:45:06 GMT -5
Will was there. (thanks for the head's up! Geez.....)
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Post by Wolverine on Sept 17, 2005 22:50:12 GMT -5
"He won't be a bastard anymore," Logan finished for her as he buckled into his seat.
{Wordlessly, John sat down and buckled in as well.}
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Post by Phoenix on Sept 18, 2005 22:29:19 GMT -5
Double checking the jets systems, and inserting her own communicator, the basket ball court opened, and taking one last glance around the jet behind her she lifted off, realizing taking the jet was probably unnecesarry, but it held all the supplies and provided a radar-proof hideout if things got nasty. Not like she intended to hide, oh no.
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Post by Wolverine on Sept 19, 2005 21:13:55 GMT -5
Logan gripped the arms as his seat as they took off. He did not like flying. In fact, one could go so far as to say he hated flying.
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