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The Ascension of The Twelve: Second Gathering
Author: Jenskott
Summary: After of the Gathering of The Twelve the machine and the technology of Apocalypse was abandoned and forgotten in Akkaba. Suddenly the reality has changed drastically, without anybody realizing. What happened and who is the responsible? Can the X-Men stop and reassert the timeline in its path?
Notes: Thanks for the reviews! Effectively, Jean is scared of Onslaught and the Xavier's feelings, but there's more to it than that. The motives of her fear have more to do with Scott than with her. When I explain them you'll understand why Scott doesn't need shades and other differences such like Nathan and Rachel. By the way, despite of the appearances this series is NOT an AU. The interludes happen in CANNON comic. Confused? All will make full sense at the end. Pay attention to the interludes. They are crucial to understand the plot.
Continuity: Comic.
Disclaimer: X-Men belong to Marvel due to some sort of cosmic disaster. And writing nonsense disclaimers to disown stuff that all know aren't yours is boring.
Feedback: To jorgisimox@hotmail.com. I can't stress enough how badly I need advice and supports. English isn't my primary language, so excuse my mistakes.
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Part Two-
The East lightened up with the red and orange and golden of the dawn. The city was awakening.
Elisabeth Braddock gazed quietly the sunrise on New York, standing up lazily on the verandah.
The rising disc of color emerged high and proud between the skyscrapers and the murky and dim shadows retreated away its frightening light, vanishing in the morning. The thousands of bright hues of color between sanguine red and amber yellow were cut, refracted and altered with the thick smog, crafting an odd and pretty rainbow. It was an awesome, beautiful show, especially when the beams spiraled and sneaked among the buildings, but Betsy wasn't feeling any placidity or contentment of heart in the least. Neither she felt warmed when the early sunlight of the dawn stroked her body and fidgeted with her braid.
She was feeling cold, standing on the railing with the arms crossed, willing get a heat she didn't feel.
A muffled noise of the sliding door opening disrupted the quietude and heralded the newcomer to the balcony. Strong hands roamed up and down her arms with the gentleness of who is touching a valuable china doll with fear of shattering the figure if it was grabbed with too much strength or roughness. She could feel to few inches of her the broad and hard chest swelling and lowering, and each corner of her eyes caught a glimpse of sharp metallic wings flanking her, glinting with the daybreak.
"Warren, please-" She began, but her voice was cut off when the presence withdrew, giving her a wider berth.
"I'm sorry" He breathed, and his voice sounded apologetic and noncommittal. "I don't want intruding. Or pressing. Or bothering. Or anything wrong."
She hated with passion that dismal and bleak tone, and she hated even more it sounded with such grief for her blame.
"You don't bother me. No now or never." She stated, whirling around with parsimony. "But as long as I am getting this straight, I need my space. And time. I'm sorry."
"I know." He muttered sadly.
"Don't give me the sorrowful puppy face, Warren" She remarked. "I need make up my mind, choose what I want doing with my life and our relationship before advancing any further."
"I know. And I understand. I can wait." He said staring straight at her eyes. He held her piercing stare. She was pretty with her purple, bright eyes and her smooth face, lacking of any blemish, mark, mole or freckle.
He wondered idly why he should find strange her face was so immaculate and her skin so flawless.
"I know you promised me wait for it." She sighed. "But I don't wish stringing you along, or you waste your time with me." She went on before he protested. "I'd lie if I said I don't love you, Warren, but... You want and deserve a stable relationship, settle and get married and get children with one person who love you and appraise. I don't want this ending, but I'm not if I'm ready to a commitment. And if I can't give you what you want, then I'm not the woman you need or deserve. For that I need you permit me make a choice, time to decide and space to breathe. On the contrary, you won't know if I chose you out of love or out of pressure."
He sighed. All of it sounded perfectly logical, yes. Too logical. "I'll wait." He repeated, tireless.
"You haven't to do it" She shook her pretty head, her long mane of hair flapping behind as a shadow.
"I know. But I want." Warren walked forward, daring to a short embrace. Barely a brush of his muscles on both of her arms, an ephemeral link of bodies. Before Betsy protested, Archangel ended up the hug, parting physically theirs bodies. Warren took a moment to notice of the cool air filling the empty space between them and beat a hasty retreat into of the attic. While he scampered inside of the house he reflected in the warmth he had felt when they touched and the stinging coldness when they were separated. He really wished this relationship didn't end up disaster like his former ones.
Warren Kenneth Worthington The Third. Rich and hedonistic playboy multimillionaire. What a laugh. He'd change lives with Scott or Hank or Bobby at any given moment. He longed human warmth and love to fill the inward hollowness he felt within him, important things money would never be able give him.
The door of transparent glass slammed closed, leaving to Psylocke alone again with her thoughts.
Alone to cherish and bask in the truthful love and affect and devotion Warren was offering her freely. Alone to struggle against her urges of taking it. Alone to question her own worth.
She loved and wanted to Warren. Badly. But she wasn't sure of if he didn't deserve better. Perhaps she should be fair and let him go. Perhaps it would be better for both.
Or perhaps she was lying to herself and was a bloody coward. Piotr also thought he ought to break off with Kitty and let her go, and it turned out to be the worst mistake of his life, one without turn back.
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INTERLUDE
The next had been Magneto. Erik Magnus Lensherr, Master of the Magnetism. Incredibly powerful super-villain, contender to ruler of the world, and expert in lengthy demagogic speeches. His management and brandishing of sheer magnetic power wasn't overmatched or challenged for anybody.
In reality he was one prey relatively easy, too overconfident in his own formidable might and he fear it produced. A servant knocked out and locked away served of proverbial Horse of Troy. Sleeping pills on the food, a collar inhibitor fastened around his neck when he was slumbering, and a swift and discreet runaway was all it took to get him in the clutches of his fate.
****************************************************************************************
Betsy is alive and without traces of the Crimson Dawn. Warren is Archangel still. They are together and without trace of Thunderbird, although their romance is strained with doubts. What has could happen to them?
In the next part we find out what has happened with Gambit and Rogue. And in the next interlude we see the fate of other of The Twelve.
The Ascension of The Twelve: Second Gathering
Author: Jenskott
Summary: After of the Gathering of The Twelve the machine and the technology of Apocalypse was abandoned and forgotten in Akkaba. Suddenly the reality has changed drastically, without anybody realizing. What happened and who is the responsible? Can the X-Men stop and reassert the timeline in its path?
Notes: Thanks for the reviews! Effectively, Jean is scared of Onslaught and the Xavier's feelings, but there's more to it than that. The motives of her fear have more to do with Scott than with her. When I explain them you'll understand why Scott doesn't need shades and other differences such like Nathan and Rachel. By the way, despite of the appearances this series is NOT an AU. The interludes happen in CANNON comic. Confused? All will make full sense at the end. Pay attention to the interludes. They are crucial to understand the plot.
Continuity: Comic.
Disclaimer: X-Men belong to Marvel due to some sort of cosmic disaster. And writing nonsense disclaimers to disown stuff that all know aren't yours is boring.
Feedback: To jorgisimox@hotmail.com. I can't stress enough how badly I need advice and supports. English isn't my primary language, so excuse my mistakes.
*********************************************************************************
Part Two-
The East lightened up with the red and orange and golden of the dawn. The city was awakening.
Elisabeth Braddock gazed quietly the sunrise on New York, standing up lazily on the verandah.
The rising disc of color emerged high and proud between the skyscrapers and the murky and dim shadows retreated away its frightening light, vanishing in the morning. The thousands of bright hues of color between sanguine red and amber yellow were cut, refracted and altered with the thick smog, crafting an odd and pretty rainbow. It was an awesome, beautiful show, especially when the beams spiraled and sneaked among the buildings, but Betsy wasn't feeling any placidity or contentment of heart in the least. Neither she felt warmed when the early sunlight of the dawn stroked her body and fidgeted with her braid.
She was feeling cold, standing on the railing with the arms crossed, willing get a heat she didn't feel.
A muffled noise of the sliding door opening disrupted the quietude and heralded the newcomer to the balcony. Strong hands roamed up and down her arms with the gentleness of who is touching a valuable china doll with fear of shattering the figure if it was grabbed with too much strength or roughness. She could feel to few inches of her the broad and hard chest swelling and lowering, and each corner of her eyes caught a glimpse of sharp metallic wings flanking her, glinting with the daybreak.
"Warren, please-" She began, but her voice was cut off when the presence withdrew, giving her a wider berth.
"I'm sorry" He breathed, and his voice sounded apologetic and noncommittal. "I don't want intruding. Or pressing. Or bothering. Or anything wrong."
She hated with passion that dismal and bleak tone, and she hated even more it sounded with such grief for her blame.
"You don't bother me. No now or never." She stated, whirling around with parsimony. "But as long as I am getting this straight, I need my space. And time. I'm sorry."
"I know." He muttered sadly.
"Don't give me the sorrowful puppy face, Warren" She remarked. "I need make up my mind, choose what I want doing with my life and our relationship before advancing any further."
"I know. And I understand. I can wait." He said staring straight at her eyes. He held her piercing stare. She was pretty with her purple, bright eyes and her smooth face, lacking of any blemish, mark, mole or freckle.
He wondered idly why he should find strange her face was so immaculate and her skin so flawless.
"I know you promised me wait for it." She sighed. "But I don't wish stringing you along, or you waste your time with me." She went on before he protested. "I'd lie if I said I don't love you, Warren, but... You want and deserve a stable relationship, settle and get married and get children with one person who love you and appraise. I don't want this ending, but I'm not if I'm ready to a commitment. And if I can't give you what you want, then I'm not the woman you need or deserve. For that I need you permit me make a choice, time to decide and space to breathe. On the contrary, you won't know if I chose you out of love or out of pressure."
He sighed. All of it sounded perfectly logical, yes. Too logical. "I'll wait." He repeated, tireless.
"You haven't to do it" She shook her pretty head, her long mane of hair flapping behind as a shadow.
"I know. But I want." Warren walked forward, daring to a short embrace. Barely a brush of his muscles on both of her arms, an ephemeral link of bodies. Before Betsy protested, Archangel ended up the hug, parting physically theirs bodies. Warren took a moment to notice of the cool air filling the empty space between them and beat a hasty retreat into of the attic. While he scampered inside of the house he reflected in the warmth he had felt when they touched and the stinging coldness when they were separated. He really wished this relationship didn't end up disaster like his former ones.
Warren Kenneth Worthington The Third. Rich and hedonistic playboy multimillionaire. What a laugh. He'd change lives with Scott or Hank or Bobby at any given moment. He longed human warmth and love to fill the inward hollowness he felt within him, important things money would never be able give him.
The door of transparent glass slammed closed, leaving to Psylocke alone again with her thoughts.
Alone to cherish and bask in the truthful love and affect and devotion Warren was offering her freely. Alone to struggle against her urges of taking it. Alone to question her own worth.
She loved and wanted to Warren. Badly. But she wasn't sure of if he didn't deserve better. Perhaps she should be fair and let him go. Perhaps it would be better for both.
Or perhaps she was lying to herself and was a bloody coward. Piotr also thought he ought to break off with Kitty and let her go, and it turned out to be the worst mistake of his life, one without turn back.
*********************************************************************************
INTERLUDE
The next had been Magneto. Erik Magnus Lensherr, Master of the Magnetism. Incredibly powerful super-villain, contender to ruler of the world, and expert in lengthy demagogic speeches. His management and brandishing of sheer magnetic power wasn't overmatched or challenged for anybody.
In reality he was one prey relatively easy, too overconfident in his own formidable might and he fear it produced. A servant knocked out and locked away served of proverbial Horse of Troy. Sleeping pills on the food, a collar inhibitor fastened around his neck when he was slumbering, and a swift and discreet runaway was all it took to get him in the clutches of his fate.
****************************************************************************************
Betsy is alive and without traces of the Crimson Dawn. Warren is Archangel still. They are together and without trace of Thunderbird, although their romance is strained with doubts. What has could happen to them?
In the next part we find out what has happened with Gambit and Rogue. And in the next interlude we see the fate of other of The Twelve.