#moveslikelightning

Mission 3 Team: @savagescholar, @thenamesrogue, @moveslikelightning, @wanda-thescarletwitch, @dahliahsiao, @ravenmystiqued Starting Location: Jean Grey School

Rogue had recommended that they hold a press conference. Matters were getting out of hand with the bombing, disappearances, protests, and all the other anti-mutant activity. This Senator Creed character made Dr. Henry McCoy especially uncomfortable. As the saying went, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. The founding and former member of the X-Men had been dealing with these issues for most of his life. Even before he was blue and furry, his mutation was evident and the subject of bullying.

Quite crowd had gathered to hear them speak. All the major and local news outlets were there: CNN, Fox News, MSNBC, Daily Bugle, New York Times. Hank was pleased that so many had shown up to hear what they had to say, but he was even more pleased with those who had chosen to stand beside them in support. Wanda and Pietro had kindly accepted to appear when Rogue reached out to them. Dahlia was there to show support of a non-mutant human as well as for… additional security. Even Raven had shown up, after much convincing from Beast and her daughter. They would show the world that mutants would not submit to tyranny and simply die out. Mutants were few these days, but they were strong together.  

The super scientist stood in the mirror and adjust with a nod to ed his tie. In preparation for the press conference, he had finally found the time to trim his hair and beard. With a nod to the group gathered with him, they started their procession onto the stage. He heard a number of audible gasps as he walked out and stood at the podium. Hank had expected this. After having not appeared in public for four years, it may come to the surprise of the media that he was still alive.

“Thank you all for attending this conference today. As the majority of you likely recognize, I am Dr. Henry McCoy, formerly of the X-Men,” the blue gentleman began. He motioned to the group of allies standing behind him. “My compatriots and I come before you all today, not as X-Men or as Avengers, but as mutants and those that stand in solidarity with them.” Hank shot Dahlia a glance, a faint smile creeping across his face. “It may surprise some to discover that mutant humans in fact remain a minority on this planet. We number fewer than two hundred in total. As is the case with many minorities, we have often faced persecution in the past. Today is no different. We are constantly threatened with bodily harm and the infringement of our human rights,” he concluded, giving slight pause.

starter for @moveslikelightning

Life had moved pretty fast in the aftermath of the Blood Star battle. Alexis and Jack had joined SWORD almost straight after and as the dust settled around what had been Detroit, they were working on building something new for SWORD. The compound was taking shape nicely but it still needed a lot of work. Which was why Alexis had the opportunity to go back to New York in order to source much needed medical supplies for the new medical division of SWORD.

While it was good to be in New York again, it was different. It wasn’t her home any more. She had spent most of her adult life living in the Big Apple but the small chalet she shared with Jack on the SWORD compound was her home now. Even as she left her hotel to go for a run around Central Park early in the morning like she used to, it still didn’t feel like the city she used to call home and she wasn’t sure how to process that.

She put it out of her mind as she put her earbuds in and got her workout mix playing on her ipod. She ran at a fairly relaxed pace for her to the park and ran her usual route around the place. As she ran, she went through her day’s itinerary, preparing for the day ahead. She was focused and she was determined. At least she was until a familiar blur of movement overtook her.

{ savagescholar || hesprettycut || alexisthemedic || moveslikelightning } Dr. Henry McCoy scanned the horizon of the Detroit wasteland. Much had changed since the last time had been here. For one thing, it looked a heck of a lot of better than before. Nature had encroached in, reclaiming the ruined landscape. In a twisted way it looked beautiful, the scientist had to admit. And for another thing, his girlfriend had died. Dahlia was gone, but with the world in mortal danger, there was little time to mourn. Only a few days prior, they had been on a mission that ended the life of the woman he loved and left him with a strange alternate version of her in his care. Right now the mysterious warrior Dahlia was recuperating at the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning. The woman was severely malnourished and had endured numerous injuries. Junho, the SHIELD agent who had retrieved them, had wanted to take both her and Dahlia, his Dahlia, to a SHIELD facility. Hank had convinced the man to turn them over to him instead. The large blue mutant could be intimidating when he wanted to be. The school was on lockdown again, for the second time this year. His students huddled together were scared underground. From across the base camp, Hank could spot one of the men responsible for the atrocity that had taken place here seven months ago: Remy LeBeau. He was a former teammate and friend. That was until, he betrayed the X-Men and the entirety of the planet for Jamie Braddock and Hydra. If not for Braddock and Remy, a tear would not have torn open and the Foesitians would not have their gateway to Earth. Dahlia would never have been wrapped up in all of this if it had not been for the destruction of Detroit. She would still be alive and happy. Just one more crime Remy was responsible for on his long list. Under less dire circumstances, Hank would have marched over there and decked the traitor with one swing of his huge, furry arm. This however, was not the time, nor the place for that. There was too much at stake. He would settle for firing his icy grey gaze at Gambit for the time being. Beast sucked in a long breath of cold air through his sensitive nostrils. It was time to get back to the task at hand. He was in charge of the medical relief team for this last ditch effort. The physician could not have been happier about the people who were serving with him. Darcy Lewis he knew and liked. She would be medical assistant to him and the other medic, Alexis Michaels, doing anything they required of her. Although he had not worked with Alexis before, Jack Romulus assured him that she was excellent at what she did. Hank would take his word for it. Finally there was Quicksilver. Despite their past as adversaries, Pietro had volunteered to help against the Foesitians, ferrying the wounded back and forth across the battlefield. The ex-villain and his sister were going above and beyond to make up for their past wrong-doings. That was good enough for McCoy. “You are all aware of your duties,” he said to his group members. “I trust that you will perform to admirably and to the fullest of your capabilities.” All of the combat teams were shipping out for the crater. Soon the Blood Star would spit forth its horrors and they would be there to help alleviate suffering sustained during the fighting. “It appears that the glorious carnage approaches,” stated the sarcastic scientist with dry wit. Staring off into the distance, Henry began to recite memorized verse: “From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition; And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.”

Turning his head back, he gave a small smile, the first since Dahlia’s death. “Henry V. Curiously apt at present,” the doctor exposited, shouldering his medical kit. Anyone who was a particularly perceptive person may have noticed the tears welling up in Hank’s eyes before he looked away again.