Maggott was unceremoniously dumped out of the portal the woman in purple had thrown him through. He had no clue where he was. The air was different, that was for sure. He winced, in agony as he felt a pang at his girls distance from him. They shouldn't be so far from him.
"E…Eeny…" he panted, his slack face pressed on the cold, metallic floor. "Mea…Meany…c'mon gels…" he barely got out before he passed out. 'Come home,'
He didn't know how long he was down, but before he could open his eyes, the first thought in his mind rang out, from a voice that wasn't his.
'You and your girls are far from your home, Japeth.'
'Who?' that question felt like it took hours to come from him, how long had he passed out?
At least Eeny and Meany were back. His girls were snuffling towards him as fast as their metallic bodies would allow. He hoped they picked up something to eat along the way, they were always hungry.
'They have eaten, young one.'
Who was speaking to him? As each of his slugs returned to his body, he felt envigorated, his skin suddenly switching back to blue, and his eyes opening to reveal a sickly yellow light to them. He managed to push himself up to a half-sitting position.
"Where am I?"
"As I have said, Japeth. Far from your home."
Maggott, Japeth, looked up. There was a man clad in red standing before him, striking what most would call a domineering pose. "I am the one who assisted your slugs' return to your body."
"F'rgive me if I don't sing your praises. You haven't even told me yer-" He broke off as he felt his mind being scanned, memories flipping spasmodically through his life. Like a file full of papers, ripped from the drawer and tossed to scatter in the air. Dinner with the family. His first hot dog in New York. His little brother, laughing. Running to school on the first day, admiring his new shiny shoes as the flashed beneath him. The fight with the two X-Men. The time he met…he met…
"Magneto." the pair said simultaneously. The man above him looked down and smiled. It wasn't a smile that engendered confidence.
"How wonderful, you have a debt to him. That will make this easier. Come. You may find that you can assist me. I could use an extra set of hands; there was a fair amount of damage sustained." With that, the last thing that Maggott remembered was that wicked crescent of a smile. And a name.
Erik the Red. And fokkal if he knew what that meant.
Hours later, Maggott and the X-Men save for Joseph found themselves attaching manacles to their wrists while wrapped in a dreamy fugue state. None raised a fuss when their captor had finally come to rouse them from the induced-sleep he had set them under. As the last clasp snickered shut, the group seemed to snap to their senses.
"Where…where are we?" Trish asked, sounding as if she came out of a deep sleep. She gave a small cry of alarm at seeing the mutant known as Maggott in the jury box with her other teammates. Who was he?! "H-Hank?" She asked as the blue mutant began to stir.
"Silence!" Erik the Red boomed as he entered the cavernous, rock hewn room. He remained in the clothing they met him in, and as their minds began to return to them a different feeling fell over their minds. They were aware, alert, but calm. Placidly accepting.
"Will the jury stand!" Erik the Red barked, and en masse the group stood. He grinned, and it was far from pleasant. "Excellent; you may return to your seats. Presiding juror, remain standing!" As if they had practiced, they sat in unison, save for Rogue.
"What gives me this honor?" She drawled, her eyes darting about frantically, but the rest of her moving slowly. "Where's Bishop? An' Joseph! And Deathbird, and what've-you-done-to-Remy?!" The shock of her seeing Remy chained to the ground by his wrists and neck, leaving him in a half-crouched position was enough to throw some of that hazy fog off for a moment.
Standing over him was Angel, his pristine white wings shackled at every joint by dull metal. His hands were connected with thick chains to his feet, and those all came to one point at the center, an enormous loop where all the chains converged. Whoever had planned this wasn't messing around with safety precautions. Incongruously, there was a large, wicked half-moon shaped ax within Warren's reach. Why would that be left there?
Rogue tried to fight, the panic at seeing the ax was nearly too much for the bonds on her mind.
"Why aren't our powers workin'?!" she asked, but then whatever was done to her mind caused her words to slur. She sank back to her seat in a jangle of uncoordinated limbs, unable to concentrate on forming words.
"Dammit." Beast managed to get out in a sotto voce at seeing Rogue's discombobulation. "Whoever this is…their power is off the chart. We have to lay low, folks, and hope to find an opening."
"Try to…keep him…distracted…" Betsy struggled to get out as she seemed to also go quiet.
Nothing had to be said, Hank fell silent to let their resident psychic go to work. The X-Men didn't need to expound everything, they trust one another. Betsy was probably trying to free them.
Maggott didn't have that perspective and started to ask questions, but Trish cannily hushed him as quickly as she could.
"Let it play out, stranger. Trust these folks and follow their lead."
Maggott quieted down with a nod as well as a small, sardonic grin. These people seemed to have a plan, or at least they were willing to remain calm. Therefore, could he do any less? Upon seeing the stranger was willing to work with them, Trish heaved a small sigh of relief as Erik the Red continued.
