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Posted: Oct 1 2017, 05:03 PM
The Darkest Timeline AU
an october + november event
Have you ever just wanted to be absolutely horrible to your characters? Well, you're in luck!
Welcome to X-Gen's Darkest Timeline AU game, where you get to explore the absolutely worst path your character could have taken either by their own choice or by events that they had no control over in their lives.
What is a Darkest Timeline? The Darkest Timeline is a reference to the multi-verse theory which hypothesizes that there are multiple universes outside of our own in which all things are possible and that we live in the worst possible of these universes.
For example, what would happen if your character had never found the safe haven of Xavier's? What would have happened to them if the MRD was a worldwide governmental force? There are so many possibilities - and it's all up to you!
Keep in mind that this is completely AU and, as such, does not affect current or future gameplay! When replying to this thread with your character's Darkest Timeline, please have a minimum word count of 150!
Posted: Oct 11 2017, 05:52 AM
Joseph Danvers Darkest Timeline
Premise: What if Joseph Danvers had become Binary in place of Carol?
"Hey Pinky, y’know Carol’s angel powahs let her hear everybody down there?"
The mental equivalent of a young man, Joseph’s physical double in all respects except the amaranth shade of his skin, orbs of plasma that served for eyes, and an overall blockier bone structure most perceivable in the lines of the chin and shoulder, stirred in the back of Joes mind. Binary had allowed his mind-partner to clad him in jeans and a green T-shirt with a grinning egg-headed martian holding up a tendril-like finger suggestively next to the words ‘PREPARE YOUR BUTTS!!,’ which in Joe’s reckoning proved Binary, comie alien though he was, to be a true bro amongst bros. “All conscious lifeforms echo the Supreme Mind,” intoned Binary with characteristic serenity, not bothering to reiterate that he technically co-cognated everything Joseph contemplated.“Your homeworld is very beautiful Joe-of Joe.”
The human had long since accepted his alien partner’s best approximation of ‘Joseph Junior,’ having exhausted himself talking Binary down from a much more protracted form of address. “Yeah…its real nice up here,” he acknowledged absently, grey eyes ringed in sclera of luminous gold tracking the lazy drift of continents below. Earth was gorgeous like this, in the pristine soundless void of space, a jade tinged sapphire rolling along a carpet of black velvet. “Gets shittier the closer you ah though.”
“There is so much unnecessary suffering…”
“Listen Pinky,” began Joe with the slow but strained patience of an oft repeated conversation. “This isn’ yoah techno-commie-hippy paradise,” a sweep of a hand encompassed a world lightly caressed by the solar rays brimming around of seemingly distant planet-edge. “Earth’s just a buncha monkeys climbin up to the tallest trees and shittin on all the othah poor fucks below them."
“Hala is a technocratic elective dictatorship,” Binary corrected distractedly, taking refuge in pedantry while he processed Joe-of-Joe’s bleak summary of his homeworld’s geopolitical status. Binary knew and loved his partner like his own self-wave, but Joe-of-Joe tended towards a zero sum perspective punctuated by bouts of troublingly misanthropy, the later of which had been growing as of late. Yet, as prone as Joe-of-Joe was to false-equivalence, the vivid imagery of his metaphor bore a depressing statistical reality.“This self-predatory behavior is unsustainable at your species's current rate of population growth and technological advancement. I confess to not knowing where to start…”
“Find shitty people an’ I vaporize em,” shrugged Joseph before plummeting downward into the planet’s exosphere like a spring board diver attempting to pierce the Atlantic Ocean. “Pretty simple, worked for Rogue an’ all those fucks protectin her soul-suckin bitch-ass at Xavier’s didn’ it?”
Binary contemplated their mutual memories of vengeful slaughter in psychic silence for a time. Fury, justice, and dominance were a single state of being for Joe-of-Joe, perhaps why he made such a potent partner. Their union had been in its nascency when Joseph had sought out the woman who’d put his winged sister into degenerative slumber. Binary had known little other then the collective martial wisdom of Hala and the all-consuming fire of Joe’s rage. Since then however, as their unity had elevated both their consciousnesses, doubts plagued Binary with greater frequency. “The residents of the Syrian nation-state…they were undesirably covered in fecal matter as well?”
“They killed Steven,” came Joe’s simple reply as he playfully bounced in and out of the fires of atmospheric reentry, like a stone skipped across the aerial aether.
“It is …statistically unlikely,” Binary ventured cautiously, “that every resident of Damascus …Aleppo … and the others ... were complicit in our brother’s demise.”
Joseph sighed, spread his arms, surrendering to the sinking inferno of orbital decay. Dirty blond hair wiped around his face as Joe allowed just enough heat through the nearly skin-tight shield to feel the raging glory blazing around him. “Listen, that shit don’ mattah on Donkey Kong planet Binary,” he said in curt dismissal of precise prosecution. “Humans? We’re dumb as fuck,” came the condemning over-enunciation. “Need to be reminded what happens if we don’ play nice, or we go right back to shittin on each othah in literally two seconds. Syria?” Joseph’s lips curled into a satisfied half-smirk. “Pretty fuckin wicked example.”
It was Binary’s turn to sigh, wishing what he hadn't witnessed Earth’s peculiar feeding frenzy geopolitics, He and Joe-of-Joe lacked the necessary data and breadth of corporeal expeirence to do more then guess at an effective application of their vast power, let alone a righteous one. Maybe the Elders of Hala could fathom a course, but they were thousands upon thousands of light years away in the great Magellanic Cloud. Binary and Jo-of-Joe had only each other.
“Do you estimate those eighteen point five million examples sufficient for the education of your primate kindred Joe-of-Joe?”
“Hope so,” was the earnest but resigned reply as Joseph launched them back up into the vacuum on a spreading wave of golden light,“but that really depends on them don’ it?”
“I worry deeply for our sister,” admitted Binary as both boys’ thoughts turned the the psychic toll the planet’s increasing collective pain took ok Carol’s sanity, “And planet Donkey Kong.”
“Don’ worry Pinky,” Joseph assured mentally, smile uncharacteristically gentle, even affectionate, in the breathless privacy of space. He retrieved a pair of dog-tags from beneath his blue YOLO tee-shirt, their stainless steel surface radiant in the amber illumination of the barrier that kept the crushing void from claiming Joseph. Both young warriors ran a finger over the indentations in the metal as one, murmuring the oath they represented in English and Kree simultaneously. “I’m top monkey now,” Joseph continued after their revenant threnody. The exterestialy ascended teenager looked down upon a helpless world with an expression that mixed compassion with utter contempt.
“Ill fix it.”
Posted: Oct 29 2017, 01:00 PM
Noriko Ashida Darkest Timeline
Premise: What if Nori never made it back to Xavier's?
This is all a dream.
Noriko Ashida was never seen or heard from again when she went to California back in 2014.
The rouse of love turned out to be a perfect trap, another tool at the hunter's disposal. Once the hunter left the 'safe house' it was all a matter of collecting the little lovestruck lamb that had wandered into the lion's den.
This is all a dream. A mere symptom of the induced coma caused by forced overclocking over the last three years. Based on the most recent test results it is estimated that subject Ashida's remaining functioning vitals will shut down entirely within six years at the continued current of controlled electrical voltage.
Subject is still unresponsive. Tests will proceed as normal.
Posted: Oct 30 2017, 05:55 PM
Lilith Swann Darkest Timeline
Premise: What if Lilith's family never accepted her mutation
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Why was it that every time there was a cold, empty cell, it had a leaky pipe? Did the guards prepare holding cells according to a manual of sorts? Leaky pipe, check. Cold, dirty, tiled floor, check. Well, actually the floor wasn’t that dirty. It was tiled but the guards kept her cell in pristine condition to avoid any outside germs from entering and messing up the research data. But nevertheless, it was a cold and hard one.
Opening her green eyes, once praised for their beauty, now dulled within the years of captivity. With each day, a strand of vibrant green disappeared, in to gods know where. The woman laying on white sheets, her eyes duly staring up to the floor was called Lilith Swann. Once, considered one of the greatest talents in ballet. Now, she was a mere sequence of numbers – 137890. Her name was nothing but a ghost of time passed. Now she was property of the Mutant Response Divisions, most refined researchers.
To understand the situation we are in, we must backtrack to the time 137890, or Lilith was a young woman – about to take her very first step in to being her own person. When the girl was 12-years-old her mutation first manifested. The girl had an enhanced healing factor, that kept her in perfect health no matter what happened to her. This was celebrated in her family, mostly by her mother who thought that this was the sign from god that she had been waiting for. Her daughter was meant to be the perfect ballerina. Nothing could touch her, nothing could ruin her. No matter how rigorously the girl trained, none of the injuries she sustained seemed to persist for more than a day or two – in most cases those injuries would heal within an hour. This meant that her mother would make the girl train, until she could no longer stand on her own two feet. In the Swann household, there was no place for weakness.
The rest of the girl’s family weren’t so accepting of her mutation. They were respectable people, with an image to hold up. To make everything worse, Lilith’s grandparents had never fully accepted the girl because of her father. A lowly working-class man, who joined the army the second her mother got pregnant. Often, they would have loud arguments about her biological father and how it was his despicable family line that had ruined their first granddaughter. There was no way Lilith could ever live up to the Swann name, not with how she was. Thankfully, they got a second chance with Lilith’s half-sister Lisbeth, who was fathered by a respectable man with no family history of mutations.
The only one standing up for the poor girl, was her mother. What Lilith viewed as unconditional love, was nothing but a twisted desire to live her dead dreams through her daughter. Lilith was never anything but a vessel to her mother. She was going to be the star her mother never became.
Then came the faithful day which would make all those dreams come true. Lilith was taking her first real step in to the world of ballet. All she needed was to perform one dance and she was on the fast track to be a star. The small girl was trembling, waiting for her name to be called. Julliard was filled with only the best of the best and somehow, she was alongside those people. All she needed was to just dance and that was it.
“Lilith Swann, come on to the stage”
It was time. The girl with her bright head of fire took a step on to the large stage. Everything seemed to stop and the air froze around her. Was she getting cold feet? Oh no. She couldn’t. Then the first notes of a very familiar tune rang through the air. Tchaikovsky’s beginning for Swan Lake. For some reason, the girl couldn’t move. Her whole body refused to move one single inch. Quickly the music ended and she was shot with glares that could cut through steel.
“Miss Swann, if you are not going to perform please exit the stage. Next-“
“Please, I- The song was wrong”, the girl stuttered, her body finally breaking the shackles that had held her down. “I was supposed to do Dance of the Willis from Giselle. There must have been a mix up”, the girl lied through her teeth. She was by no means meant to do that particular piece, but something in her compelled the girl to say those words – that would prove to be the biggest mistake of her life.
The judges turned to look back at the girl, one of the older women tilting her head slightly. “We, here at Julliard, do not make mistakes but if you insist on taking on such a piece, we will allow it”, the woman said, not quite impressed with the show Lilith had put up. With that the music began and Lilith’s body was put in to motion.
What happened after that was a blur. Nothing seemed real in between the time she managed to completely screw up her auditions by doing one of the hardest roles in the whole ballet role, and only focusing on technique. She knew and her mother knew very well that the girl was not good at roles that required a lot of emotion to be put in to the dance. Once the letter came in, no one was surprised of the fact that Lilith had not in fact been granted a place in the dance program at Julliard.
Ever since the audition her mother had grown far more hostile towards the girl, who couldn’t understand why she was acting this way. It was just one audition. She could apply next year, right? It wasn’t the end of the world. How wrong had that naïve little girl been.
“I should have listened to my parent’s. Keeping you was a mistake! How could a dirty mutant become anything other than they already are – a disappointment”
These were the last words Lilith heard her mother say. After that, everyone around her acted as if she wasn’t there. Like she wasn’t real. Until the day came, that men in suits came to their house. Her mother let the men in, instructing them where to find the mutant child. Lilith’s mother had literally sold the girl to the authorities.
“Sir, the subject is showing first signs of exposure. It is now hour 5 after the initial dose of ricin being exposed in to her cell”
With gasps, the pale woman finally sat up. Her chest was tight. It was as if someone had taken a hold of her lungs and was now just squeezing them, making it near impossible for Lilith to breathe. Her small body was being racked by cold shivers as sweat ran down her back. With much trouble, she was able to haul herself off of the bed. With wheezing gasps, she made to the metal door, banging her frail hands against it. “Something’s wrong. I-I can’t breathe”, the girl wheezed pathetically her fists banging on to the metal door separating her from the outside world.
“Keep writing down her reactions, once she starts to heal go and get samples out of her”
Tears running down her cheeks the redhead kept banging the door, each bang quieter than the last one. Finally, her legs buckled under her and she slid down on to the ground, her fists weakly still banging. “Please, don’t leave me here”
Posted: Oct 30 2017, 09:00 PM
TW: Mentions of rape, abuse, etc.
The Darkest Timeline AU
the following events occurred in 2016, seven months into a first-degree manslaughter sentence
No sixteen-year-old belonged in jail with grown ass men, but then again, most sixteen-year-olds convicted of murder were tried as adults. Hence why he was in this godforsaken place to begin with. He hated it. He hated being cooped up like this. He'd been relatively restricted back home with his Mom and Noah
He didn't exactly regret what he'd done to Nathan. What he regretted the most was the strain this whole thing was putting on his mother... probably because she was a guilt trip champion. And she was his mom. He couldn't hate her. She'd raised him by herself - with no mention of his father unless Ira had brought up the topic on his own. And even then... she had just skirted around the topic entirely. Once she'd flat out said that she didn't know, but somehow... somehow Ira knew she'd lied to him. She knew. She had to know.
With lights out having hit about an hour prior, Ira didn't dare move from his designated mattress. He shared his cell with one other man, which was one other man too many in his opinion but nobody gave a damn about his opinion around here. The first week he'd been here, the guy had beat the everliving shit out of him almost daily. Guards didn't care. Wasn't disturbing the peace as far as they were concerned. Hell, his cellmate had only seen Ira's durability as a fucking challenge.
Being one of the youngest on the block, there seemed to be some unspoken rule that while he got the shit beat out of him, nobody could touch him. There was nothing most of the inmates hated more than someone who preyed on children, especially in a sexual manner. That didn't deter one of the inmates from trying, though, and Ira would have rather taken a thousand beatings than deal with that ever again. However, he told nobody about what happened in the library - mainly because he didn't want to get beat by two men as well as whatever... one was enough. The other just made Ira wish that he were dead.
Lights out was probably one of the strangest times in the prison. Everyone was winding down and everything was growing quiet, but not for Ira. If anything, noises were amplified at night. He could hear the others settling in, or... doing whatever it was they did at the end of a long day wherever they were assigned. Most nights, Ira laid curled up on his side with his back to the wall, pillow cradled around his head so that the sounds around him were muffled. But they were only ever muffled. He could still hear, just not as well.
Something was off tonight. He could feel it. There were whispers among a few of the other inmates on his block. Whispers that he didn't like.
It didn't take long for the inmates to overpower the guards, and by the time Ira had willed himself to actually venture out of his cell, the entire block was complete chaos. It was louder than he could process and for several moments, he just stood in the entryway of his cell, one hand curled around the cold metal bar at his side, the other hanging lazily by his side. His eyes adjusted easily to the dim lighting. Power must have been cut, but the emergency lights were glowing an eerie red and he could hear the hum of generators somewhere trying to handle the strain that the block put on them. Was it the entire prison that was like this or just his block?
Ira's unspoken question was soon answered when he picked up the scent of someone that made his stomach churn. Not him... anyone but him. Sure enough, out of the darkness emerged the one man in the prison that Ira had legitimately contemplated killing. The only problem was that the other man outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds if not more. This... this wasn't going to be good.
Four days later, the riot was squashed, but not without casualties on both sides. Among the names of the deceased that were released to the human relations office so that next of kin could be contacted was a man with a penchant for young boys. Cause of death - massive blunt force trauma to the skull, at least one shattered vertebrae, and three stab wounds in the groin. He had no next of kin - none that wanted anything to do with him at least. Another name, though, stood out among the rest because he had been the youngest member of Cell Block C.
Ira Sofen. Cause of death? It hadn't been strangulation, despite what the bruising around his neck would have suggested. Lack of access to proper medical equipment meant that he had died after severe blood loss due to several knife wounds. If he had been able to hold out only a few hours longer, he might have been reached in time.
The other man had died first, though. Apparently, he had made sure of that.