apocalipped | Entries tagged with people: raven

"Why don't you crawl back under the rock you evolved out from under?"

Charming. Jonothon's lip curled back as he took another boot to his ribs, craning his neck to be certain that the kid with the vestigial tail had gotten away safely. Lucky him, poor little sod, he'd managed to escape. It was fairly obvious that, like Jono himself, the boy had formerly been a mutant. And, so far as the world went these days, his reality was a bit of a crap one to be a former mutant in.

( Then again, from what he'd read in the paper... )

[NFB for distance, and pulled totally out of my bum because being mean to Jono is going to be the name of the game, this week. Open for phone calls if anyone wants to pester him when he comes to, but otherwise, just establishy.]

Curry. Tonight, Jono had decided, as he set up his room with company in mind and flipped through the phone book for local restaurants, was a good night for curry.

Once upon a time, so help him, he used to like curry. And then there had been years without a mouth, and now this, and he was effectively staring down at his dish and nudging a piece of broccoli that was a little too spicy for comfort around with a fork.

"I'm going to get through this," he intoned, glancing up from his plate. "I swear it."

If it killed him, damn it. If it killed him.

[For that girl!]

( It was a straightforward enough job, really. (Cut for holy crap, length. And murder/attempted murder/racism/Jono being a dick.) )

Bloody hell. He couldn't focus on his paperwork. He'd managed to make a complete cock-up of the whole damn thing, just by solving the mystery. Score one for the good guys.

He pulled out his phone, idly thumbing at the keys.

Greetings from the newest Empire State University journalism program dropout. Any good news among the rest of you, these days?

Never mind that it had only been a matter of days since he'd been on the island. For Jono, he was back to counting Fandom days with weeks. He was allowed to pester people at this rate. Right?

[Um. I have no idea what possessed me to transcribe all four issues of the Chamber miniseries, but there you go. Sanity probably doesn't apply. Open for anyone who wants to get Jono's text! Or whatever. LJ's still being a jerk.]

( And it wore on some more... )

[And that's all she wrote! There's a catch-all warning for just overall unhappy X-Men sorts of discussions within, but the worst of it is over, now. This one follows this, this, this, and this, and this! Preplayed with

mouthy_merc as Jean, and

trigons_child,

glacial_witch,

whateverknight, and

angelo_wings who rocks like a rockstar for coding this one up! And now I'm going to toss up some short OCD for more aftermath threads and OOC comments and whatevs. Woo!]

( And the day wore on... WARNING - Dark Subject Matter? )

[Almost done! There's one more after this, and then I'll stop spamming your flists, promise. There's a catch-all warning for just overall unhappy/manic depressive/genocide/racism/X-Men sorts of discussions within, but nothing actually really happens in this post, so yay? This one follows this, this, this, and this! Preplayed with

trigons_child,

glacial_witch,

whateverknight, and

angelo_wings who rocks like a rockstar for coding this one up! NFI, NFB, and OOC? Still welcome!]

It had been a long night at the Xavier Institute. Some of the visitors from Fandom had managed to get rest, and nobody was going to deny them that. Not after the way they'd saved the lives of so many of their own. Even in spite of certain... differences of opinion.

The X-Men, sans Jonothon and Warren, had set off during the night to hunt down the individuals responsible for all that had happened. Kurt had given them a lead to some church that he was supposedly ordained in. Warren had stayed behind in case more of his blood was needed, and Jonothon had stayed behind because...

He was going to assume he was behind because two of his best friends were in hospital beds, and ignore the probability that he was really still at the mansion because it was his responsibility to keep his friends from Fandom from somehow blowing up the place. Which, in retrospect, was a sort of amusing change of pace. Usually he was the one blowing things up, after all.

( That Morning... WARNING for more Torture/Racism/NPC Death )

[It continues! With a warning for more wholesale slaughter and torture, because X-Canon is happy like that. Ganked and adapted from Uncanny X-Men 424. Follows this, this, and this! Preplayed with

mouthy_merc as Jean, and

trigons_child,

glacial_witch,

whateverknight, and

angelo_wings who rocks like a rockstar for coding this one up. NFB, NFI, OOC is awesome.]

( Later that night... (WARNING for talk of genocide/racism.) )

[Part three of.. a bunch, and the last of my posts for today! Follows this and this. Preplayed with

mouthy_merc as Jean, and

trigons_child,

angelo_wings,

whateverknight, and

glacial_witch, the last two rocking all the more for coding this and editing it respectively. NFB, NFI, OOC is awesome.]

( And the madness continues - WARNING for... Medical stuff? And mutant-flavoured racism. I don't even know how to do warnings for X-Men stuff. )

[Part two of.. several, ganked and adapted from Uncanny X-Men 423, which NEEDED TO BE FIXED, DAMMIT. Follows this. Preplayed with

mouthy_merc and

icecoldfrost, who rocked the NPCing with Jubilee and Angelo, and

trigons_child,

angelo_wings,

whateverknight, and

glacial_witch, the last two rocking all the more for coding this and editing it respectively. NFB, NFI, OOC is awesome.]

Chaos.

The last few weeks had been utter chaos. It was starting to feel a bit like the status quo, actually, with things like Alpha Flight sweeping in and trying to take every child on campus away, trying to send them home. Bloody Canadians didn't seem to realize that most of those children didn't have a home to go back to, and a mutant becoming a ward of the state was an excellent way to ensure that they'd never be cared for. Was an excellent way to ensure worse.

But that chaos was nothing like this.

Jonothon was positive that he could hear a heartbeat drumming in his ears as he looked at it, at the scene set out before him, flanked by a handful of the other X-men.

( Chaos! With a serious WARNING for torture/squicky religious themes! )

[Warning for descriptions of torture/attempted murder/squicky religious stuff/one of the worst X-Men plotlines ever. Part one of.. several, ganked and adapted from Uncanny X-Men 423, which NEEDED TO BE FIXED, DAMMIT. Preplayed with

mouthy_merc and

icecoldfrost, who rocked the NPCing with Jubilee, Logan, and Angelo, and

trigons_child,

whateverknight, and

glacial_witch, the last two rocking all the more for coding this and editing it respectively. NFB, NFI, OOC is awesome.]

The last thing Jono remembered, he'd been dead. Dying? He couldn't be entirely certain, as he'd slipped out of consciousness shortly after consummating his marriage with Lucrezia Borgia et Cetera last night in this very room.

... Or had he spent his evening with Raven after his concert, making love to himself? Or that lovely young woman who had spoken so flatly at him until they'd started talking about kisses? And there'd been that backup dancer of his. At least it wasn't like the day before with Seif- Ugh.

He was just going to not think about that. Much in the same way he wasn't thinking about how good it had been to just sit around, indulging in sushi and coffee, being aware of how decadent that was in spite of not being aware of the way he usually couldn't enjoy such things.

Or how good it was to spend the weekend being able to sing. Being known for it, in fact. If he hadn't been such a complete idiot over the weekend, he could almost come to miss that. But this was the second time this had happened since he'd first come to Fandom. Maybe he wouldn't be without forever, again.

Maybe he'd just stare out the window at... was that a volcano out there?

For what it was worth, it wasn't the continuity and timeline troubles from the weekend that were eating away at his mind. For reasons that he couldn't quite put a finger on, he was actually already rather used to those.

[OOC: Oooopen. I'm all about shameless linky posts this morning, apparently?]

Bavaria. The Northern Alps. How the hell they'd wound up out here, in the bloody Alps was Jono's best guess, but- Wait. Back it up some.

( It had started when the X-Men had been called... )

The flight back to civilization was long, and quiet, and it wasn't until there was reception on his phone again that Jono bothered with trying to communicate with anybody at all.

Still alive, read the text that he sent out to his handful of friends back on the island. Give me good news about things. I could stand to hear a few good words.

Asking for word from a place that seemed so much more like home than here was the only thing keeping him from questioning exactly why he was still doing this. The more steps forward he tried to take, the more things seemed to drag him back in the other direction all over again.

[NFB for distance, but open for texting if anybody would like! Everything behind the cut is essentially a fastforward summary of Uncanny X-Men 403-407, in which Jono misses all of the important stuff back at X-Corps HQ because the writers hate him but want to give him face-time. Or something.]

Church of Humanity, Jonothon's ass.

Humanity wasn't necessarily Jono's favourite, at the moment. Not while he was standing around with an extra hole in him, courtesy of one of their messed-up congregation. And Kurt was... out of it. Out of it seemed like the best way of putting it, considering they'd found him curled up in a ball on the floor. At least Stacy X had been able to bring him around. Apparently she was good for more than calling Jon such endearing terms as 'no-face' and just generally driving him up a wall.

He hadn't even realized what the date was back on Fandom until he got Raven's text, which had been very welcome in the wake of that whole mess. He'd been able to burn away the spear easily enough, but there was a hole torn through his back that was going to need medical attention, and those photos were a very welcome distraction. He pulled out his phone and hit 'reply.'

You know, I like you however you're most comfortable, Sunshine. You certainly wear them all rather well. Thank you for the birthday wishes. It's actually coming up around that time of year again here in my own time, too. I'll be... Lord, 21? It's too bloody easy to lose track, between one reality and the next. Love you. Miss you. See you soon, perhaps?

They were headed back to Xavier's, now. It had been a long time since he'd been back there. For all the time they'd spent flying here and there, making pit stops at Worthington Industries and so on, it would be nice to have his own room again.

... His birthday.

Huh.

[NFB for distance, of course. Open if anyone wants to text him!]

Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, especially with the way things had been headed. First it was Sean and his drinking, and then it was Monet, running into the room (and interrupting a good episode of Iron Chef) to inform the team that Emma had been acting strangely.

Tell them something they didn't already know, M.

But things just seemed to spiral from there. It was when Monet mentioned that she was pretty sure the cop that Emma had mind-zapped in her office was really hurt, when she added that he'd been investigating just what had happened to Adrienne's money, that Jono had started thinking.

And later that evening, he found himself sitting on his bed cross-legged, staring again at the sheets of paper with Xavier letterhead, and trying to come to come to terms with what they said.

( Leave it to Jubes to interrupt. )

Whatever it was, as the taxi pulled up to the airport, he pulled out his phone and sent a text message to a handful of his friends back on Fandom Island. Thank goodness, his phone from the island still managed to connect between now and wherever and whenever the Island had headed to.

Moving to London. Everything's fine. Just need some time to think before pulling on more tights.

There. That ought to do it. Now to see what sorts of flights they had available on standby, and to go back home.

[NFB for distance, and most of this was cribbed shamelessly from Generation X #75. Open for return texts while Jono waits in an airport, so that I can shamelessly toss him at some of his X-Men canon later! Whee!]

Jono had a dilemma.

Or, more accurately, Jono had a whole host of dilemmas, all wrapped up into one tidy little envelope, sitting on his nightstand and staring him in the face. In part, of course, because of his face. The letter was, after all, from Xavier. And accepting the proposal in the letter meant a good many things. Leaving Massachusetts. Leaving Angelo and Jubilee and the others behind. He'd done that once before, when he wound up on Fandom Island, and he wasn't entirely certain if doing it now counted as running, or simply moving forward.

And there was the rest of the dilemma, there. Things had been insane for the members of Generation X, lately. Busy, heartbreaking, not particularly easy, and everybody was dealing with these things in their own ways. Surprisingly, the biggest changes to be seen were in Emma and Sean, both of whom were beginning to worry the surviving members of the team. Now would be some pretty rotten timing for Jono to take Xavier up on his offer to join the X-Men. Right?

His eyebrows furrowed a little as he stared again at the letter, and then shook his head, shoving it into his nightstand. He'd sleep on it for a few more nights, and maybe that would help him figure out just where he wanted to go from here. In the meantime, he was pulling out his phone and firing off a short e-mail to his friends.

Believe it or not, I miss you guys. How have things been?

Jonothon's conversation-starting skills needed work. But it was either this, or listen to Paige go on about rescuing trees from some money-hungry oil corporation for the millionth time.

[NFB for distance, but Open for texts, e-mails, surprise multidimensional visits, anything you don't need a mouth for. If you figure your character got Jono's amazingly verbose e-mail, they did, sure! I'm actually around again! Yay, around again!]

'Movie night.' Things had been relatively quiet at the Massachusetts Academy, and so Angelo had decided that tonight was going to be a 'movie night.'

Which meant, of course, that after a quick run to Videos R' Us (which was not technically a quick run away, but Jono and Ev had made an error in judgment in letting Angelo drive), there was now a stack of horror films on VHS about twenty tall, being precariously balanced in Angelo's arms as they made their way back into the common room of the dormitory building, where the girls were already doing... girly things.

Ugh. The place reeked thickly enough of nail polish and remover that even Jono could smell it. Quite the feat, when you didn't inhale. But at least the girls didn't seem like they were protesting too thoroughly to the boys crashing in and stealing away the television. They'd needed this, thank you.

... Of course, they probably shouldn't have let Jono deal with the popcorn. The microwave was busted, and he'd improvised using his powers, and, well... Microwaveable popcorn apparently wasn't intended to be heated via bio-nuclear psi-furnace. It was everywhere.

[OOC: NFB for distance, but open for e-mails if you have any to send, or a visit if you happen to be able to teleport across space and tiiiiiime!]

Last night, after the dance, Jono and Raven had decided that it was probably best to get themselves a hotel room. After all, it was already late, and given how they'd managed to work themselves up to their particular state of amorousness simply by being near one another (the joys of being a telepath and an empath), sexiling either of their roommates would have just been bad form.

Jonothon had been the first to wake up. And it hadn't been the sunshine and the birds outside the window to do that, either. It had been... a while, to say the least, since he'd shared a bed with somebody. Longer still since the somebody that he'd shared his bed with was this particular somebody. And, even though he'd lost his psionic abilities decades ago, without even looking he still knew the smell of her, and the feel of her skin, as if it had been only yesterday.

Fandom Island always was one for cruel jokes.

His first thought was to slide out of bed, try to get himself ready without waking her up, and just make his way out to some quiet part of the island. He still wasn't so certain about being here for this reunion at all, and had been intending to spend as much time as possible just sitting alone somewhere to talk himself out of it.

He went with his second thought. Always did, didn't he? What use was the ability to think better of himself if he didn't make use of it? Or, for that matter, to think worse of himself?

"Good morning, Sunshine."

[For that woman in the room!]

The dance? Had been nice. Nice in that sort of, 'I am here, I am not being particularly social, but I have a lovely date and I'm going to enjoy this, damn it,' kind of way that Jono was so good at. But that much social interaction was tiring, to say the least, and so he was absolutely planning on spending his Saturday in bed. And it would be great, and to hell with anything in the world that thought that he was going to be getting up, at least until late afternoon.

It was possible that Jonothon was slightly delusional, yes.

[For wee ones, roomies, whatever!]

It was not a common occasion, really, to find Jono in a good mood while he was out in anything remotely resembling public. But, this appeared to be the case. Ariel's party had been a good time, at least by Jonothon's standards, which meant that there was plenty of music and he'd been more or less left to his own business for the evening.

So he was walking up the stairs en route to his room this evening, rather than stalking, loaded up with bags which, in turn, were loaded up with the CDs that he'd been playing at the party.

Not a bad evening at all, no.

[For one, please!]

Thursday had been... bad. Bad was the only word that Jonothon could possibly use, because if he tried to make better words to fit what Thursday was, he'd be just inventing them as he went and adding letters for the rest of his life. He missed her. He would always miss her. And he hadn't even had it in him to open his eyes and face her as she walked out of his life.

Friday had been... numb. Jonothon had spent Friday unable to think, drowning in himself in spite of the fact that he didn't need to breathe. But at least it hadn't been numb and alone. He wouldn't have made it through Friday if it had been both, and he'd tell Raven so, eventually, and thank her again for finding him.

Saturday had been... tiring. He had a new roommate to replace Jak, and she wasn't so bad, really. And there had been people at the picnic, even if he didn't think he was up to seeing anybody at all, and they demonstrated one by one that he wasn't alone. Hell, Ben had even come over to watch bloody stupid films that night. There had been popcorn. For throwing, not for eating.

Sunday had just been overwhelming. He'd decided that he wasn't going to have any of that moping thing that he kept giving into, and he was going to go to the library and he was going to bloody well work, and if he smothered himself in it, then he didn't have to think about anything else. And it had been off to a good start. He'd helped Faramir and Dolf both. But then Sherlock bloody Holmes showed up as well, and had ruined his state of mind for dealing with Murdoch, and Mr. DeTamble had wound up sending him home early. Which had led to drinking with Karla and George and a shared psionic sense of tipsiness that, as enjoyable as it was while they were reading The Three Musketeers last night, had sometime since given way to a psionic hangover.

And so Monday? Monday was going to be spent under the covers, cursing sunlight and detectives and swashbuckling and beer. To hell with everything in the entire bloody world. Jonothon didn't have to be up until tomorrow, anyhow.

[But, of course, the post is open for anyone who wants to stop by to poke the mutant, closed door be damned.]

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Jono Starsmore

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October 2017

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Page Summary

New York, Wednesday Evening
The Apartment Above The Boards, Sunday Evening
The Apartment Above The Boards, Sunday Evening
Jono's Corner of 616, Thursday, Fandom Time
From Brooklyn to Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, Sunday Fandom Time
Brooklyn, Sunday Fandom Time
Xavier Institute for Higher Learning to a Church in Brooklyn, Sunday Fandom Time
Xavier Institute for Higher Learning [Not that one that isn't this one], Saturday Fandom Time
Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, Saturday Fandom Time
Xavier Institute for Higher Learning to Fandom and Back Again, Saturday Fandom Time
Jonothon's Suite at the Arms, Monday Morning
The Northern Alps, Bavaria
Headed Back to Xavier's, Friday Evening, Fandom Time
Massachusetts Academy, Massachusetts
The Massachusetts Academy, Early Spring
Massachusetts Academy, Thursday Evening, Fandom Time
A Room at the Arms Hotel, Saturday Morning
Room 408, Saturday Morning
The Dorms Stairwell, After Ariel's Party, Thursday Evening
Room 408, Monday Afternoon

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