#morphinemechanic

Today was the day that could make or break Aeron Pike’s career as a superhero. This was to be her baptism by fire and her inaugural mission as an official member of the X-Men. She sat in the co-pilot’s seat, wearing the tailored uniform that Hank had given her months prior. Beast himself was dressed in his black and yellow trunks as he piloted the Blackbird jet to their destination.

They had received information regarding some Hydra activity that had been passed along to them from SHIELD. Ever since the fall of HOPE, there had been a greater deal of communication and coordination between SHIELD, the Avengers, and the X-Men. There had needed to be, what with the uptick in crime and the re-emergence of Hydra as a threat. So it came to pass that the espionage organization had uncovered evidence of a remote facility in Mexico in which Hydra was engaging in mutant experimentation. Naturally, this was of the utmost interest to the X-Men.

Since their initial meeting, Aeron had intrigued Hank. She had proven that she was a powerful mutant and a force for good. That was why he had recommended her to Rogue as a candidate to join the newly formed incarnation of the X-Men.

The mutant physician had also taken it upon himself to help his new teammate to stay clean and sober. Her symptoms she exhibited as well as the story Aeron had told him about Tony finding her painted a pretty clear picture. It did not take much for the super scientist to put two and two together. He wasn’t one of the smartest people on the planet for nothing.

As the dust settled on the battle in front of the Jean Grey School, Hank McCoy stood and caught his breath. His muscles ached and his fur was caked with dirt and sweat, but he hardly cared. There was still work to be done, leaving Hank feeling fortunate to be blessed with superhuman endurance. The sun was setting, casting an eerily beautiful light over the field of combat. Chunks of debris and clods of dirt littered the ground. Beast bent down on one knee and ran his long fingers through the grass. “I am compunctious that such strife has befallen your grounds, time and time again,” he whispered, in part to Krakoa, the sentient land mass upon which the school was built, but also to the spirit of the woman who the school was named after. It had been years since he had seen Jean, one of his best and dearest friends, a fact that deeply saddened him.

With a sigh, the mutant physician rose to his feet once again and strode over to an emergency triage tent that had been set up on the school’s lawn. There one of the HOPE soldiers was shouting and struggling as nurses and EMTs attempted to tend to him. “I don’t wanna be touched by any muties!” he screamed. “Get your filthy hands off of me!” Dr. McCoy approached the ruckus calmly and stared down at the other man. Based on quick observation, he was able to ascertain that the radical soldier had a broken bone in his arm that needed to be moved back into place before it could be operated on any further. “Please, sir, compose yourself. This is going to cause you an excruciating amount of pain,” the tall blue apeman spoke in a deadpan tone. Gripping the upper arm with one hand and the forearm in his other, Beast gave a swift tug, setting the bone back into place.

Looking away from his unwilling patient, still howling in pain, Hank noticed Aeron walking across the field. “Brace those bones, place his arm in a sling, and acquisition this one some pain killers,” he told the medical staff nonchalantly over the din of the HOPE militant’s screams. Leaving the tent, Beast ran over to her. “Good showing out there, Ms. Pike. You demonstrated a great deal of bravery and confidence.”

A moment later, something crackled over their comms about the strike team of heroes breaking through HOPE’s lines into their HQ. After a brief pause, there came the request for back-up to help search the facility for any signs of the captive Tony Stark. Henry looked at his fellow mutant and could see the determination in her face. They both knew what they needed to do.

If there was one perk to knowing Tony Stark, it was getting cool, free stuff. There were of course, in actuality, plenty of other great perks to knowing Tony, but “free” had always been Clint’s favorite price, and it even came with the additional bonus of usually not having to ask for things in order for them to be made. Clint liked getting stuff, but he didn’t really like asking. He didn’t need a whole lot (he’d learned to live with very little at a young age), and usually preferred to get his stuff through his own means and his own hard work. The one exception to this rule, was arrows; He needed a lot, and he needed them to be much fancier than anything he could dream of building, and when it came to arrows, no one made them cooler than Tony Stark.

Of course, he knew it wasn’t always Tony building them -- it was more than likely he’d stopped bothering making them himself after the third or fourth time he’d had to. Clint was quite sure the task had been passed off to a series of assistants and interns at Stark Industries, leaving their great leader to pursue much more interesting assignments. Clint didn’t mind. He knew he was still getting Tony’s design, Tony’s brilliance, and if there was ever a problem with the arrows, Tony would be the first to know.

He was headed to the lab today to pick up a new set of arrows, and was told to meet with an Aeron Pike. He didn’t know what to expect of Aeron Pike: He wished he could say Tony had told him anything about Aeron Pike, but the truth of the matter was, he hadn’t ever heard the name until he got the call saying his arrows were ready for pickup. He didn’t even know if Aeron Pike was a man or a woman.

The elevator came to a halt with a soft ding, and the doors slid smoothly open. Clint stepped out into the lab, feeling only a little out of place. It didn’t matter how many times he’d been there and would go there in the future, he didn’t think he’d ever feel at home in a place like that. “Uhh, hi,” he said to the first face he found. “I’m here to pick up some arrows.”

Henry McCoy snuck through the back allies of Oakland, California. There was an old, disused X-Men headquarters nearby in San Francisco, out of which he had been operating for the past few weeks. During that time, he had been in communication with someone who needed his help. This person implied that they were a fellow mutant on the run from HOPE and the two of them had been chatting online. Finally, they had arranged to meet up. 

Hank had taken precautions, of course. The azure acrobat scoured around the perimeter of the abandoned warehouse a few hours before they were set to meet. His wrist watch also doubled as a monitor, relaying his vitals and sound back to his hideout as well as across the country to Tony in New York. If something happened and one of the Illuminati went missing, all the others must be alerted. 

“Aw, c'mon lady. ’M only tryin’ to be friendly, y'don’t need to be such a bitch about it.”

Carol sighed deeply, turning to face the man next to her with a brittle smile. “I know what your intentions are, friend.” She hauled a fist back and smashed it into the man’s jaw, sending him reeling away from the bar. “They’re not welcome here. Back off, asshole.”

Holding up a finger for another glass, Carol swiveled back into her previous position and resumed her drinking. After several long moments, she felt a gaze resting on her and snapped without looking up.

[found crumpled in a trashcan]

Dear [scribbled out text]

You’re an icon. Everyone knows you, everyone loves you. You’ve become this phenomenon, far beyond what any one person should be able to accomplish.

How do you

I’ve always

starter for @morphinemechanic

Jock hadn’t been to a NA meeting in a while and he felt bad about that. He had promised his sponsor, Gerry, that he would keep attending the meetings regardless of which city or town he found himself in. Jock could have tried to explain away his guilt by saying how busy he had been but that was just an excuse. He had to keep his addiction in check, especially now he had so much to lose.

Jock was at the SWORD complex on business but he had resolved that while he was there, he would find a NA meeting and go. He didn’t know what to expect to find at the meeting he did manage to track down since the area that was Detroit was so sparsely populated at the moment but it was better than nothing.

The meeting was being held outside of the SWORD base in a small town hall from a few miles away. Jock walked into the hall and found a haunting familiarity about the place. The same type of uncomfortable plastic chairs were set up in a circle in the middle of the room. To one side was a table with coffee and biscuits available. The people in attendance already were either standing in pairs and talking in hushed voices or stood alone and staring blankly into space. Apparently NA meetings were the same wherever they were held.

Jock took a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs and waited for the meeting to begin. He recognised a couple of the other attendees from SWORD, including one of the mechanics, Aeron, but he made no effort to say so. This meeting was supposed to be anonymous after all. Eventually the others all sat down and the meeting began.

Like usual, Jock listened to the stories the others were willing to share, each one different from his own but there were similarities in all of them too. It was kind of comforting in that way, a reminder that no one had to be alone in their struggle if they didn’t want to be.