Welcome to X-Men: Unhinged Evolution!

We are an alternate universe X-Men: Evolution roleplaying game that accepts canon/original characters and fun, creative writers. The time is set before season 1.

Mutants are not yet known to the public, but when superpowers are in the hands of hormonal teenagers who knows how long that will last. Professor Xavier is doing his best to delay the process by homing these young mutants and teaching them to control their powers. Magneto and Mystique are doing something similar.

So far, the only mutants living at the Xavier Institute are Ororo and Logan, whereas the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House is virtually unoccupied.
Who will be next? Who will be the X-Men? Who will be the Brotherhood?

You decide.

Happy roleplaying!
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Current Year: 2017
Current Month: February
Current Weather: Cold air, Snows occasionally


Bayville gets slammed with a snow storm in early February and as such the high school is closed for a couple of days. Due to inclement weather, there will be no school February 6th and February 7th. Shovel out your vehicles then run back inside to warm up by the fire with some cocoa.

Don't forget that Winter Break is happening the week of February 20th through the 24th!


Use when starting IC threads:
Year 2017 Calendar
 


 















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All copyrights reserved, X-Men: Unhinged Evolution is a product of Marvel's Franchise, the X-Men and the TV show series, X-Men: Evolution. No copyright infringement is intended. Unless otherwise stated, all other rights belong to XUE, do not take anything without explicit permission.



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 If It Pays the Bills, ...which it doesn't.
Sean Cassidy
 Posted: Mar 26 2017, 03:14 PM
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Loud McMouth
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Group: X-Men (Admin)
Posts: 18
Joined: 25-March 17
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Age: 18
Mutant Power: Screaming
Codename: Banshee
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Written by: Cytosine/Roman
Cerebro File | Board History
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Queens, New York, Astoria Blvd. Station
Saturday, January 21st, 2:07pm




Intermittent clouds of e-cigarettes and the white-noise of the laughter and shouting of passengers crept out of the trains and into the subway platform. The scents and the sounds mingled there and spread through the bustling but dank underground where Sean sat between two benches that were absent of butts. His neck was crooked with his hair hanging over, brushing against the wood of his acoustic guitar. His chords rang out muffled as the notes hit the wall of ambient noise, choking out the richness of each strum.

Saturdays were not the best day for busking. It was too loud, there were too many people, and there were rival buskers all over the fucking place on every platform in every fucking station. Voices lost to homelessness or indifferent families belted out their lament and beauty in ways that Sean just literally could not. At the most, he hummed out the melodies to the songs he played but due to the volume of the place, he might as well have not bothered. He didn't care about the competition. He didn't have a goddamn thing to prove and he wasn't some sort of undiscovered star in the making.

"You know you'll get more tips if you sing somethin'..."

A barely-concerned voice chirped up from the other side of the left bench he was wedged in between. A man in his thirties- possibly forties, sitting against the brick of the station with his dog under one arm and a worn and scored paper coffee cup tucked into his left hand. Sean looked up from his shy-guy, droopy head thing he had going on and stiffened a brow. He was not amused.

"I AM A LEADER BUT- YA' WILL NOT FOLLOW ME! I AIN'T NO PREACHER F'R I'M FULL'A BLASPHEMY- SEE YOU IN HELL BOOOOYS!"

The sound was grating, off-key, and the wrong kind of loud for punk. He locked eyes with the man the entirety of the line, looking him dead in his soul as if to say, 'That's fucking why, ya fuck'. The man abruptly got up and left and a woman who had freshly dropped a bill into his guitar case just beforehand had immediately spun on a heel and marched back without skipping a beat and pulled her dollar back out.

And he watched her do it.

"Thass messed up."

He took in a deep breath and an even deeper eyeroll and set his instrument aside, perched up against the painted black steel of the side of the bench and breathed out a sigh. He dug into the pocket of his filthy, maroon hoodie and fished out his 'unlimited go phone', which was a smart phone by a company that probably didn't even exist and only worked 45 percent of the time anyway. No texts from mum having gotten back from taking Theresa to the park. He still had time to kill.

"I have school and a baby an' oy'm takin' requests!"



Kitty Pryde
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Kitty Pryde
 Posted: Mar 26 2017, 06:05 PM
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What?
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Group: X-Men (Admin)
Posts: 43
Joined: 14-March 17
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Age: 16
Mutant Power: Intangibility
Codename: Shadowcat
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Written by: Thymine
Cerebro File | Board History
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Kitty was a little nervous the entire day. Apparently Xavier's was on the fast track to growing exponentially larger. Apparently, mutants were everywhere. And here she thought, for years, that she might be the only person alive who could do really weird shit with her body. Regardless, it seemed that everyone had slack to pick up, and it was Kitty's turn. At least she didn't have to fly anywhere, and she could take care of the whole thing on her own. According to Mister X,... er... Professor X (what the hell did he profess?)... this newbie was alone. He hadn't been tracked by the Brotherhood bunch, so there was no competition, today. Less pressure. She was banking on that. Real hard. Here's why.

So, Kitty had gone her whole life without visiting New York City. The large apple, or whatever. She'd been in so many computers in NYC, but never physically gone there. Her parents' ideas of vacation always involved continental travel. Africa, Asia, Australia, Europe, South America... so rarely did they travel the 'States themselves.

Part of a myriad of promises Kitty made to her parents so they'd agree to let her live at this weird ass boarding school was that she'd take a bunch of assuredly awful pictures of the sights. And what with her staggering $100 birthday money, which might buy her an entire shirt in the city, she was prepared to keep up with that promise. And given that she'd never been to the city, the very specific subway station that this "Sean Cassidy" had planted his ass on would be hard for her to find, right? Xavier would have to wait.

She made sure to stay on the right line, but got off every single stop along the way, ran up the steps, and snapped a picture of the surrounding area. Or. Okay, so she tried to snap a picture of the surrounding area. Given that she was busy, rushing, generally awful at photography, wasn't paying attention what so ever, and just didn't care all that much... Kitty wound up with three pictures of her eyeball, two of mostly her fingerprint, and four blurry shots of busses driving by with sad faces advocating STD awareness and nearly naked supermodels advertising undies.

The last stop before Sean's station, she'd worked up the courage to take more than three steps away from the station stairs. She wanted a shirt. Any shirt. Just to tell Mom she'd gotten a shirt, and to thank her. But getting bumped in the shoulder by rushing citizens had her spun and shoved and tripped and pissed off.

"Alright, EVERYBODY STOP DOING THIS TO ME!" It was one of those moments. She'd be proud to think about this moment in the future. She stood up for herself to a bunch of shitty strangers, too busy to recognize that she was just a Jewish girl from Illinois.

Only not a damn person paid her any mind, and instead, she just shuffled over and started scaling the brick wall of one of the buildings. As she pulled out onto the main street she realized very quickly... that this station had zero shops near it. Whether they were businesses or residential zones, she couldn't be quite sure. One of them had to be a bar, even if it had weird tassels hanging from the sign.

Oh.

Anyway, she turned around and relented, way too petrified about taking a wrong turn somewhere and getting lost. So, she headed back down into the subway and was headed for the next stop. Astoria Blvd. Station.

She stepped out onto the platform looking around. She had a vague idea of who she was looking for. Vague. Just some screaming man musician, right? That didn't sound so appealing.

She wore a ragged, orange, stylized George Michael t-shirt with "Father Figure" in bold letters under George's beautiful, beautiful face. The hem was bunched up around the waist, half tucked into her denim cut-offs, with some brown and green striped hose falling into her dusty ankle boots. She wore her signature army green, zipper friendly, chunky winter coat too, masking her figure from literally every person.

She didn't really know how to go about this. There wasn't some kind of recruitment manual, as evidence by the dumb shit she had to deal with when they recruited her. Fucking flying demons and flaming boys. Fire flaming, not like the slur. Well maybe, she didn't know him, but it would've been an accident.

Hopefully this wouldn't be a fight of any kind. Not that she'd fight. Or run after him. She was already tired. Mom.

"Are you Sean?" She just started asking people.
"Are you Sean?" Lots of shaking heads.
"Are you Sean?" Some "nos".
"Are you Sean?" Two ignores.
"Are you Sean?" One very loud "Fuck You" from someone who turned out to be a woman.
"Are you Shhhh-" She stopped herself from asking a little kid when she saw him. At the exact moment that ratchet racket came squealing out of his ugly throat, the subway had taken off, a gallop of wind cascading over her frame, blowing her hair up in wild, only one day greasy plumes, with a quiet gasp and subtly parted lips, but the widest crazy eyes anyone might ever see.

She didn't care if it was Sean. She would make him be Sean. She was a mutant, she could probably figure it out. She took a step toward him, completely ignoring the little boy she had forcibly stopped.

QUOTE (Better Be Sean)
"I have school and a baby an' oy'm takin' requests!"


Jewish Christ, and he had an accent.

Oh my God, Kitty, if you don't request something, anything, right the fuck now...

"I have to poop."

Oh my God, Kitty, never say anything for the rest of your entire life.

Her eyes went wide and stared at him for too many seconds. "That is a song. The Festering Boils. A B-side. Like... really B. Uhhuhuhu-" and she was stopped only by the uncontrollable gag. Her body forced her throat to shut off momentarily, and silence the shit out of her dumbass face. "Do you know it? Are you Sean?"

Be Sean, be Sean, be Sean... only maybe don't be Sean, because you're so goddamn stupid.

...Be Sean, be Sean, be Sean!



Sean Cassidy
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Sean Cassidy
 Posted: Mar 26 2017, 07:00 PM
Quote Post

Loud McMouth
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Group: X-Men (Admin)
Posts: 18
Joined: 25-March 17
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Age: 18
Mutant Power: Screaming
Codename: Banshee
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Written by: Cytosine/Roman
Cerebro File | Board History
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Two girls waiting by one of the columns near the edge of the platform just looked over at him nervously. One of them did the really irritating 'as if' scowl in his direction and clutched her bag closer to her. "That counts as a request!" His pointed an accusatory entire arm in her direction and squeezed up his entire face, which was already pretty unnatural-looking as it was and picked up his empty bag of McDonalds blindly and crushed it against his chest. He heard the scream of the train coming to a stop and opened his eyes just in time to see one of them flip him the bird and the other- and this impressed him- reared back with her entire upper torso, rocketed forward, and-

*SPLUWAP*

Whatever she was chewing had to have been Bubblicious or something because the wad of gum felt like it took up the entire right side of his cheek. He reflexively put the paper bag up to his face and scraped the pink chunk from cheekbone, although a few pieces of residue stuck there still, probably as badges of his humanity. The doors to the train closed and the two assassins promptly doubled over and while Sean couldn't make out what they were saying, he was pretty good at reading lips. The spitter definitely said something akin to, 'AUGHAHAHAHAHAHA'.

"Yeah, I cannae argue that was pretty fackin' good..." He shrugged understandably as he tossed the bag aside and started to pack his shit back into his backpack. There wasn't gonna be anything creatively stimulating happening here in Queens today. Obviously. From his peripheral vision, he noticed a person approach. Could... could it be an actual request? His fingers with bandaids wrapped around in random segments like rings loosened up grip on the backpack and blindly danced over towards the guitar still sitting upright behind him.

QUOTE (Homeless Woman)
"I have to poop."


He had taken her in and had a real look at her after his guitar was safely placed back in his lap. The army jacket, the seasonally inappropriate stockings, the exposed George Michael t-shirt... but what really tipped him off was the glasses that someone's aunt would wear the year they were born. He knew what this was about... a turf thing. He was clearly in her spot and was trying to shit in public in peace. He felt like he was in Dublin again. "Meant n'harm- s'all yers, madame..."

QUOTE (Dangerous Homeless Woman)
"That is a song. The Festering Boils. A B-side. Like... really B. Uhhuhuhu-"


She gagged. And quicker than he was usually used to, he tossed his things into their bags and cases and stood up, giving full view of what he walked out of the house like today. Underneath the faded, red hoodie was a Christian metal band, Stryper t-shirt, stonewash gray skinny chinos, and a pair of bright red converse sneakers that were scuffed beyond recognition as footwear. He pulled on his black, wool gloves and slung his guitar case strap around a shoulder and snatched up the backpack with the central handle. He gave one polite nod as he started to move past her, all the while fishing into the back pocket of his pants and then held a hand out as he slowed beside her.

"God bless yeh, brave soul." He offered a sage, knowing nod and handed her two dollars and was on his merry way the hell out of there. He wasn't quite sure yet how the turf etiquette worked, but he was very naturally prepared to be jumped. Sure she was small, but she looked crazy as fuck and he wasn't about to take any chances. He quickened his pace as he passed her and started down the platform before he heard her voice behind him.

QUOTE (DANGEROUS Homeless Woman)
"Do you know it?"-


"'Fraid not.?"

He was two seconds away from booking it and he had longer legs than her.

QUOTE
-"Are you Sean?"


He finally slowed to a stop at the bottom steps of the terminal and hesitated there for a moment. Was word getting out that he was really that fucking terrible and they were sending this girl as some kind of warning to stay out of their subways with his music? Harsh. He turned around and faced her from several feet away, deadpan. He looked into her anxiously wild eyes and squinted at her dismissively.

"Nah, man. But Oy'm hopin' yah find him."

He turned once again, this time with more purpose and sprinted up the steps. Cuz fuck this.



Kitty Pryde
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Kitty Pryde
 Posted: Mar 26 2017, 07:46 PM
Quote Post

What?
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Group: X-Men (Admin)
Posts: 43
Joined: 14-March 17
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Age: 16
Mutant Power: Intangibility
Codename: Shadowcat
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Written by: Thymine
Cerebro File | Board History
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She was only slightly disappointed as her wet dream scurried off, apparently petrified of her. She couldn't blame him, but she had to find Sean. So, that was fortunate. The most beautiful Irish boy was no longer distracting her. She could've spent all night with him. All night until curfew.

Nobody else in the area seemed to be fitting the bell, and she had to find a new approach. She needed some help.

She pulled out her phone, but naturally had no reception in the damn subway, and started up the same steps Meat had just flown up, needing to get above ground for some decent service. Immediately upon getting her head above concrete, she clicked the call button. Professor Xavier's personal phone.

"Kitty, what have you done?"

"Hey, it's me, Kitty. -Oh. What?"

"He has left the station."

"Well, why didn't you tell me!? The best I found was some Irish dude with a baby."

"Kitty-"

"Gaaahd, but you have to hire him for something. Like the gardner or something, do we have a gardner?"

"Katherine! That was him."

"...H'What?"

"I have been tracking him. You must start running."

"Oh God." She started forward, aimlessly. She paused after exactly four running steps and bobbed her head all four directions at the intersection. "Which way?"

{Hang up the phone, Kitty. I will telepathically guide your steps, all you must do is maintain momentum.}

"Right! I'll call you later!" Click. And she started running again. She wasn't looking in front of her, but rather in every other direction, searching for Gorg. But what the hell was she supposed to say to him? He was obviously petrified enough of her to lie to her.

{You first must remain calm. Focused. You are on a mission, Kitty.}

"PROFESSOR?!" She screamed. "Oh!" Huff, sprint, huff, sprint. "That's right, you're still here..."

{There, just ahead, do you see him?}

"Yes! I see him!"

{This is your mission, Kitty. Remember your ultimate goal. What would you say to a young man to to gain his attention?}

"Hey! Sean! Wait!" She belted out, her legs burning as she finally caught up to him.

{You mustn't frighten him.}

"I'm pregnant!"

{...I'll send Aaliyah, tomorrow.}

No! Dude, I got this, trust me.
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Sean Cassidy
 Posted: Mar 26 2017, 08:55 PM
Quote Post

Loud McMouth
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Group: X-Men (Admin)
Posts: 18
Joined: 25-March 17
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Age: 18
Mutant Power: Screaming
Codename: Banshee
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Written by: Cytosine/Roman
Cerebro File | Board History
Sample Image


He only ran about two blocks before he realized that she wasn't following him. His bag and guitar case hit the ground with harmless 'thump's to his left and his right as he braced a hand against the newspaper stand on the side-street. The paranoia and anxiety started to left from him and he breathed out a sigh of relief into his forearm as he wiped a tiny bit of spit from the side of his mouth from the impromptu run. "Fackin' hell..." He grabbed from the nearest candy bar at the stand which just happened to be an Almond Joy and he tore open the wrapper with his teeth and tossed a buck-fifty onto the counter and immediately pulled out his phone.

Now that he was out of the caverns of the subway system, it buzzed to life in the form of two missed calls from his mother. A pang of panic shot through him, worlds different from the variety of fear that he felt in the station, which was more of an annoyance than anything. He hit the 'Mum' contact and put the phone up to his ear. Was everything alright with Theresa? Did she skin her knee at the park? Were other kids mean to her and made her cry? Had his mother forgotten to pack the Gushers with her afternoon's lunch?

He bit into the candy bar and instantly regretted it because coconut had the consistency of candle wax made of wood. He forced back the urge to gag, himself, and opened his mouth as large as possible with his tongue out, letting the chunk of inferior chocolate 'slop' out of his mouth and onto the cement and vigorously swiped at his tongue with a now-ungloved hand. "Uooughhhh!" There was a voice on the phone. "Sean?" His mother, sounding normal... if not a bit confused by his choice of premature greeting.

"Ay. Everything alright then?"

"Why're you soundin' so funny for?"

"It's no'in, mum. How's Theresa?"

"Not bad... Missin' her da' as usual. Y'sure yuir alright? Y'sound a bit ragged."

He ignored the pang of familial responsibility and fatherly heartbreak and just canted a head to the side and raked a hand through his hair, using his last two fingers to give a good scratch behind the ear. "Just had to run to catch a bus is all. The public transpo system is fer shite aroond here..." He didn't know why he felt like he had to lie to his mother about what had just happened. Partially because he didn't want to worry her, sure. But for some reason the encounter just didn't sit right with him as a 'needy, territorial homeless person claiming their land', or whatever. He turned his back to the where he'd run down the street from and plugged a finger in his freed-up ear. "Listen- tell 'er Oy'm... I'll be home inna few days. Kin ya do that?"

"Of course I can."

He only had another full solid day out and about, staying with a burnout he'd met at PS112 only a month earlier. Mum was afraid he'd skip out longer and miss out on school like he had in older days. He knew that wasn't an option anymore. He pressed his mouth into an almost-smile and relaxed at the temples. "Right then. I lo-"

QUOTE
Hey! Sean! Wait!


His brow instantly furrowed and a look of horror started to dawn on him as he slowly started to turn around like in any Wes Craven film.

"-I love you." He absently finished his sign-off to his mother when he noted that he was, indeed, face-to-face again with the same disheveled girl from the subway. Only now she was redder, and sweaty. He hung up the phone. His face scrunched in on itself at what he'd just said, realizing he was looking directly at her at the time, like his skull was trying to ball itself into a fist. "Absolutely not you." He clarified, putting the phone back in his pocket and slowly reaching down from his belongings on the ground like he was planning a slow escape from a safari animal.

QUOTE
"I'm pregnant!"


So that was the game. He started to feel a bit more in control of his decision-making and scoffed at the scam. "Pffft... I already gave ye' some money. Fack off 'ome. Oy've seen better griftin' techniques, and tellin' a man that yer pregnant? Amateur." He shook his head incredulously and started walking directly past her. "Arsehole."



Kitty Pryde
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Kitty Pryde
 Posted: Mar 26 2017, 10:21 PM
Quote Post

What?
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Group: X-Men (Admin)
Posts: 43
Joined: 14-March 17
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Age: 16
Mutant Power: Intangibility
Codename: Shadowcat
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Written by: Thymine
Cerebro File | Board History
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She was keeled over by that point, heaving breaths ripping over of her mouth like she was an olympian. Only she wasn't an olympian, she was just Kitty Pryde. Lithe, but well fed Kitty Pryde. Nobody, nobody, should ever run like that.

"Puh-" gasp, "Juh-" heave. "Hh-oly Jesus Cuh-rist!"

QUOTE (Husbando)
"Pffft... I already gave ye' some money. Fack off 'ome. Oy've seen better griftin' techniques, and tellin' a man that yer pregnant? Amateur."


"Hhoh my Gaaahd that was the fastest I have ever run in my life."

{Kitty, you'll lose him.}

QUOTE (Waifu)
"Arsehole."


"Wait, jusgimmeasec."

In this moment of her actual soul literally stroking, hands on her knees, she finally recognized the money he'd referenced. Balled up in her fist, clutched for dear life like she'd just rolled around in a mosh pit and retained a sprained ankle and a shoulder dislocation to keep a drum stick thrown by her favorite band... were two less than crisp one dollar bills. She looked at it, reflected, and everything made sense.

She whipped back up and spun around. "Uh-h. You thought I was homeless?!" 'Scuze much, rude or anything?

{Kitty, the mission.}

That's good, thanks. Clearly she wasn't paying attention.

"I live in a mansion, you fuck!" You fuck? "Upstate!" A presumptuous eye bulge. "With like a head... guy..."

{Kitty-}

"...Now you think I live in a mental ward. Well, I don't! My Dad's an accountant in Illinois. I live with..."

{Careful. You are in a public area.}

"...People like you and me." She checked her surroundings. Not a damn soul was paying attention, because they had lives and Kitty wasn't the center of the universe.

But she was still mad!

To think, this jerk used to be the man of her subway dreams. She chucked the two whole dollars at him. "And I don't need your homeless money. My mom gave me a hundred dollars for my birthday!" Okay, now people were paying a little attention, but that just probably meant she was about to get mugged.
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Sean Cassidy
 Posted: Mar 30 2017, 10:28 PM
Quote Post

Loud McMouth
Sample Image
Group: X-Men (Admin)
Posts: 18
Joined: 25-March 17
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Age: 18
Mutant Power: Screaming
Codename: Banshee
Sample Image
Written by: Cytosine/Roman
Cerebro File | Board History
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Sean dug into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a mostly-crumpled pack of Marlboro cigarettes and shook out a stick as his pursuer proceeded to have a series of small strokes and heart attacks, only eliciting a side-eye as he brought the cigarette to his lips and flicked out his silver zippo and lit up. She had gotten less and less menacing as his paranoia levels came back down to a manageable human level. He blinked a few times as she struggled to compose herself, hawked a visceral amount of spit from the inside of his cheeks and expertly spat it out to the side, narrowly missing a robust older woman in pink pumps walking her Maltese. "Hey!"

He shrugged full shoulders and rocked his head around. "Hey...?" Get the fuck outta here Mrs. Garrett.

QUOTE (Sad Girl)
"Uh-h. You thought I was homeless?!"


"I still do think yer homeless."

QUOTE (Sad Girl)
"I live in a mansion, you fuck!"


"Mansion." He repeated flatly.

QUOTE (RICH Sad Girl)
"Upstate!"


He widened his eyes dramatically.

QUOTE (Rich Sad Girl)
"With like a head... guy..."


He checked his watch while the girl struggled and noted that if he got going now, he'd be back to his crash spot in time for the Tokyo Olympics. He took in a drag and breathed it out through his nose in an exaggerated sigh.

QUOTE (Rich Sad Girl)
"...Now you think I live in a mental ward. Well, I don't! My Dad's an accountant in Illinois. I live with..."


There were all of these awkward, stilted pauses in between the girl attempting to defend the fact that she was neither homeless, nor crazy... so much so that Sean began to think that maybe she was indeed homeless and crazy still. Probably even moreso than from their first encounter. "Uh huh- right, yeah..." He wasn't sure if it were wise or not to call attention to the pauses so he just pulled his phone out and immediately started swiping for the Uber app. "Look, this is fascinae'in and everythin' but I gotta take off." He wasn't even looking at her at this point and was fully prepared to ambiently ignore her and just stay on his phone until his car arrived. This was not how he anticipated he'd spend his fucking day downtown, that's for goddamn sure.

QUOTE (Mad Rich Sad Girl)
"...People like you and me. And I don't need your homeless money. My mom gave me a hundred dollars for my birthday!"


He looked up from his phone just in time for the money to harmlessly bounce off of his chest and onto the cement. His face tilted to the side while a confused expression dawned on him. Ohhhh, now it made sense. She was just a loser musician like he was. Except maybe more of a focus on the loser part and a firm 'undetermined' on the musician one. Obviously that was how she even knew his name to start with. He started to ease up and held off on tapping his ride into existence.

"Look. Whatever ye've heard about me from those lame-arse dickheads from the Cobra Room- it was their shitty equipment that got me band barred and those garbage-arse clubbers a collective 143 stitches. Not me." He paused and pushed up the sleeve of his hoodie to reveal a large adhesive bandage that spanned from his wrist bone up to the crook of his forearm. "So if'n ye've come to beat moy arse, yer already too late, lass. If ye came to talk band shite, then have out wheth it."



Kitty Pryde
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Kitty Pryde
 Posted: Apr 1 2017, 04:46 PM
Quote Post

What?
Sample Image
Group: X-Men (Admin)
Posts: 43
Joined: 14-March 17
Sample Image
Age: 16
Mutant Power: Intangibility
Codename: Shadowcat
Sample Image
Written by: Thymine
Cerebro File | Board History
Sample Image


QUOTE (Not Husbando)
"Look. Whatever ye've heard about me from those lame-arse dickheads from the Cobra Room- it was their shitty equipment that got me band barred and those garbage-arse clubbers a collective 143 stitches. Not me."


This guy's totally in love with himself, Mister Xavier. She rolled her eyes. But I don't really blame him. "W-"

QUOTE (Scars are hot. Not Husbando)
"So if'n ye've come to beat moy arse, yer already too late, lass. If ye came to talk band shite, then have out wheth it."


For the first time in a while, somebody had out-Kitty'd Kitty. He must've watched a lot of Three's Company growing up, too. Then she had to rear herself back to prevent an awkward, random chuckle that might erupt out as the thought of Chrissy not fucking Jack, but Janet freaking out about it, anyway. <- Literally the entire series.

What'd you say this guy did? Just like... yells a lot?

{Sean Cassidy has the ability to substantially increase the effects of his vocal chords, causing heightened volume and force.}

Extreme yelling.

{Were he to use his ability at his highest capacity in this moment and at this close range, you may very likely fall into a coma.}

Deadly yelling. Got it.

"I don't care about your music." Oof. That was a lie. "Sorry, no, I totally care about your music, but that's not why I'm here." Awkward breath. "And I only want to beat you up because you think I'm a homeless. But the best I can do in a fight is make you not punch me."

She took a breath. "I'm here because somebody thought we could relate to each other. Look, you know how... okay. You know how you can scream? But like..." she took a step closer and lowered her voice a little, "really scream? Like, I can scream, but people would just tell me to shut up and maybe smack me in the mouth. But if you scream... you know, it'll be worse?"

She shouldn't recruit people, and she knew it. If not before, assuredly now.

"Like, weird shit happens when you scream, right? I'm like that, too. But not with screaming." She dropped her voice into a screaming, gravelly whisper, "I'm a ghooost."

He was going to think she was crazy, again. Even if he knew what she was saying about his voice was his reality. But she wasn't any good at describing her wonk-ass power.

"Look, just watch, okay?" She checked over both shoulders, though most of her face was obscure thanks to the hood of her big jacket balanced between her shoulders. She just needed to make sure no one had stopped to watch their little debacle. But it was New York City, nobody stopped for anything, unless you were in their way. Kitty, however, had maintained a steady embrace with the brick wall of whatever shop Sean had parked them in front of.

She lifted her hand between their bodies, worked her weird little mutant magic thingy, and ghosted her hand through the brick, letting it disappear within it. After a second or so, she pulled her hand back out and stuffed it in her pocket, checking over her shoulders again.

"I'm a ghost, okay. A mutant ghost. You're a mutant mouth. It's our thing. And the guy I live with wants to talk to you."

{Kitty.}

I did it, okay!?

{Why does it sound so much worse when you say things?}

You knew what you signed up for.
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Sean Cassidy
 Posted: Apr 1 2017, 09:48 PM
Quote Post

Loud McMouth
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Group: X-Men (Admin)
Posts: 18
Joined: 25-March 17
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Age: 18
Mutant Power: Screaming
Codename: Banshee
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Written by: Cytosine/Roman
Cerebro File | Board History
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He just started... walking, under the impression that the girl would just follow him as he indeed pulled out the Uber app again and tapped for his ride. Five minutes out coming down Astoria Blvd. from the far-end subway line several blocks over. He wasn't getting the impression that the girl was even a part of Cobra's staff or litigation or... whatever. He flicked his cigarette butt far into the street to the side and anticipated more evasive fuckery.

QUOTE (Gretchen)
"I don't care about your music." "Sorry, no, I totally care about your music, but that's not why I'm here."


More fuckery. "MORE fuckery, please! Thar's no'enough fuckery, please!" He was clearly becoming more fed-up with the fact that he couldn't get a straight-forward conversation.

QUOTE (Gretchen)
"And I only want to beat you up because you think I'm a homeless. But the best I can do in a fight is make you not punch me."


Leaving aside what Gretchen had against homeless people, he canted a head only barely back over his shoulder, not even enough to cast a look back towards her. "Thass amazin'." He clearly wasn't listening anymore as he tucked one of his earbuds into his left ear and started his country/black metal playlist and brought up a word game app on his phone as he continued striding to meet his Uber halfway. Five minutes? Make that three and a half, please.

QUOTE (Gretchen)
"I'm here because somebody thought we could relate to each other. Look, you know how... okay. You know how you can scream? But like..."


"Uh huh..." Still was not listening. It wasn't until she got right up into his only available ear did it really click for him.

QUOTE (Gretchen)
"really scream? Like, I can scream, but people would just tell me to shut up and maybe smack me in the mouth. But if you scream... you know, it'll be worse?"


He stopped so hard, she probably slammed right into his very tall back. So abruptly that the bud popped free from his ear and waggled in a back-and-forth sway at his side pocket before he slowly turned around to face her, utterly horrified by what she was implying. He put on a face. That couldn't possibly be what she was referring to...

QUOTE (Gretchen)
"Like, weird shit happens when you scream, right? I'm like that, too. But not with screaming."


He shot her an incredulous look with a mouth only slightly agape and held up a hand; his pointer finger pointedly aiming to nothing physically and existentially. "Yuir... screaming." What? It was about the time that she started whisper-screaming that she was a ghost at him when his Uber mercifully pulled up alongside the curb about twenty feet down and he received the arrival text. "Fuck all'a this, an' fuck you, Greasy Gretchen." He flipped her the standard bird and began to turn around, mid-step towards the car's direction before she called out again. To wait.

QUOTE (Gretch)
"Look, just watch, okay?"


"Ok." He instantly reacted, already stepping back towards her. Was he... intrigued by all of this, this whole time? Is that what he was fighting back? Aside from the diarrhea? He meandered over the the side of a brick shop-front and watched as she essentially fisted a fucking solid wall. His eyes had never been wider and his mouth was open for so long that the stream of drool had escaped past his chin, plummeting down to his collarbone, and was now inching ever-so-slowly down to the image of Stryper on his t-shirt. "Yuir a facking ghost!!" He scream-whispered right back at her.

QUOTE (Gretchen the Ghost)
"I'm a ghost, okay. A mutant ghost. You're a mutant mouth. It's our thing. And the guy I live with wants to talk to you."


Sean started to walk. Back to the Uber, only this time he wasn't going to stop.

Nothing about this was fun or made sense. Every logical train of thought would have led to 'call the police and get the fuck home, you dumbass. This was New York City. This girl was unkempt and spouting off on things she should not have fucking known. Some stranger aside from her was trying to meet with him. She called him a 'mutant'.

"Ok."

He popped open the back door to the car and Vanna'ed a hand gesture to the interior. "Let's go, Gretchen."


Kitty Pryde Continued in: It Doesn't Pay the Bills
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