#xproject

Moment of Awesome - Paige Guthrie/Husk: Trapped in the Slendermen's world, Paige faces her fears of being left behind.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t-“ Regaining her balance, Paige looked up to see Jono. “Oh, hey. We really should stop meeting like this.”

Jono blinked at her before pulling out his light writer and typing. “I’m sorry, do I know you? I’m just trying to cut through to get to my girlfriend before she has too much to drink.”

That one stung. “Why are y’all actin’ like you don’t know who I am? I’m Paige! You’re Jono, you’re my friend, and that’s my brother behind the bar, and my sister-“ Paige paused, processing the end of Jono’s statement. “Wait, since when do you have a girlfriend?”

“Jonnie! There you are!” Mel, much drunker than before, floated right past Paige and wrapped herself around Jono’s side, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Her fingers trailed up his chest in what was much too intimate a movement with Paige standing right there. “Yknow baby, my roommates not in. We should go to my suite and have some fun.” It was singsonged into his ear, yet clearly audible to everyone in the vicinity.

A wave of nausea passed over Paige. “What the hell is going on?!” She wanted to grab Mel and Jono and shake them until they gave up whatever act this was and started acting like themselves again. Mel hated Jono, why was she suddenly all over him? This had to be done kind of sick joke.

Jono rolled his eyes fondly and gently moved Mel’s hand off his chest, trying to convey that she needed to behave. He raised an eyebrow at her and typed. “Water. Seriously, I’m not carrying you home again.”

Then to Paige he turned and typed. “I really am sorry, I don’t remember meeting you. Do you need help with something? I’m sure Sam can keep an eye on Mel if you need help.”

Mel only seemed to have eyes for Jono, barely noticing Paige there. “M’not drunk! I only had a few,” she pouted. “An’ I like when you carry me back, like my own knight in shining armor.” Her hand squeezed his bicep to accentuate her point.

“How can you not remember me?” Paige could feel the frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. “We’re friends! You told me about your band and let me sleep over at your room and we talked about Lord of the Rings and I gave you a playlist of country music that was way too long and you showed me how to get up on the roof! And you!” She rounded on Mel. “I’m your sister! We shared a bed back home and now I’m your roommate here and I helped you move in and you love romantic comedies and making fun of me and Sam for being too serious!”

The tears still sat in the corners of her eyes. “I thought I was important to you.” Out of habit, she reached down to fiddle with the ring Jono gave her only to find it wasn’t on her thumb anymore. That was the breaking point, finally bringing Paige to the point of crying.

“I ain’t sure what yer on about, all of my sisters still live at home. I’ve never seen you before until tonight,” Mel said before turning back to Jono and giggling. “See baby, I could be so much drunker, like her! At least I remember who my siblings are.”

Jono rolled his eyes, less fondly than before and typed. "Stop being rude. She's clearly upset, there's no reason to make it worse when we could try to help her."

Biting her tears back, Paige flared up at Melody. “I know who my family is, what I don’t know is why you can’t remember. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”

(Said no one ever, but I’m going to explain it anyways)

X-Project is something that comes up a lot in my daily life, because it’s a very important part of my life -- it’s literally where I met the woman I’m going to marry, and found most of my family. So it comes up a lot, casually or when I decide to be an advertiser for it. It even has a dedicated space on my sidebar now.

So, what is it? TL;DR, it’s an MCU/X-Men Roleplaying game, based on LiveJournal for almost fourteen years before moving to Dreamwidth last year due to a disagreement with LJ’s updated Terms of Service. It’s been running for fifteen years as of May, which is a pretty long life for a roleplaying game. We have a very diverse group of players from pretty much every corner of the world, and around 50-something characters, also extremely diverse and from different corners of the world. We have the OG Five X-Men, as well as a myriad of other, various obscure to well-known X-Men and mutants, and quite a few characters who aren’t mutant in the Marvel Comic canon, but were adapted to mutants for our needs.

When X-Project comes up, it’s usually in relation to my own characters, and whatever antics they’re currently getting themselves into. They are--

Angelica Jones/Firestar: X-Man, quasi-journalist running an underground mutant-friendly newspaper, pyro, all around ball of sunshine. She was the first character I apped, back in 2012.

Topaz: eXcalibur librarian/magic expert, witch (and sometimes witch’s apprentice), moody, stubborn, and constantly ruining her own life. Topaz was my second character, also apped in 2012, and is kind of my baby.

Alexander Summers/Havok: X-Factor investigator, wannabe daredevil, rush junkie, makes things go boom. Alex was my third character (and the first approved third character after we started allowing them), apped in 2015.

I’ve got a pretty varying group here, and they all come up at some point because they exasperate the hell out of me. But they’re my kids and I love them.

Interested? Check out the more in-depth posts that I’ve made in the past: X-Project Masterlist || XP 101 (yes we have a Tumblr. I co-run/make it pretty with one of the other mods)

Moment of Awesome - Emma Frost/The White Queen: Concerned about strangeness impacting the resident psis, Arthur Centino interviews Emma and gets a shameful confession.

Arthur's polite smile broke into an answering grin as Emma spoke. "I have to say, your accent is superb — clothing for our thoughts." He lengthened his own vowels at the end, drawing his voice closer to Emma's own. "You've got more upper crust, there, though? Boardroom aristocracy. Hint of Boston at the edges. Fabulous indeed."

The blond man waved that off, getting back to business. His eyes shone with good humor. "My goal here is to learn what's normal for you before jumping into what might have been different lately. Sounds like you're describing what Haller would call," and he reflexively switched accents again to something closer to Jim's holmesian logic, "standard telepathic projection and manipulation." He put a hand to his chin in thought. "So let's get to it. Has anything been different within the last three months? Flares, expected growth, not coming as easily as normal?"

"Standard telepathic projection and manipulation in the way Cartier makes standard jewellery, yes," replied Emma, smiling. "None of the more exotic flavourings like technopathy or psychometry. As for changes. . . None that I've noticed particularly. I haven't been in the Mansion much, I admit, and from your email it sounds like you think that's where any changes might manifest? I mean," Emma leaned back in her chair, "I did unexpectedly turn into organic diamond during a spectacularly traumatic event, so I'm willing to consider more deeply if you have parameters to work within?"

He nodded over his notes, but extended a hand. "Psychometry here," and he gave his fingers a wiggle, "I just discovered I had it last year, but it's a good example — I've been putting my own memories onto objects without knowing it. There are at least ten others experiencing power issues — just the psis — but the common part does seem to be being at or around the Mansion." Arthur tried to give an honest smile. "There's no clear through-line or objective yet. When's the last time you were at the Mansion?"

Emma shrugged. “I’ve flitted in and out; a few hours here or there over the last few weeks.” She frowned suddenly, tapped a diamond fingernail on the desk. “When you’re talking differences in powers. . . would you be talking about a shift in my telepathy? Or is there any suggestion of suddenly using an. . . associated power.” She shook her head slightly and sighed. “Let me be terribly blunt about the whole thing; is there a possibility I could be suffering from telekinesis?”

This got his interest. Arthur raised both eyebrows and leaned in just a little. "Please, tell me more about 'suffering from telekinesis.' I've never had to worry about it."

Emma made a moue. “It’s so. . . tacky,” she sighed. “All these telepaths going round and developing telekinesis. Like lifting things with your mind isn’t just turning your brain into a brute force machine. Telekinesis isn’t elegant, Arthur.” She sighed again, this one deep and positively heart-rending. “I assumed one of the others was pranking me.”

"If it helps," he offered with an extended hand, not close enough to touch, "Everyone else is likely too preoccupied to have noticed. TK does seem," and there was the slow consideration of carefully chosen words here, "common paired with telepathy. Are we talking big things," and the man spread his arms to helpfully mime lifting a heavy object, "or smaller?" His gesture tightened, as if he was trying to indicate the shape of a racketball.

Moment of Awesome - Illyana Rasputin/Magik: When Gaia appears through the wormhole, she takes on eXcalibur in her effort to flee.

Illyana's portal opened just enough for the pissed off Queen of Limbo to reach her armored hand through, grab the stranger's ankle, and yank, pulling her backwards through the tiny space and back into fighting range. "Nyet." One word, practically spit out, and a booted foot tapping angrily on the floor. "You do not have permission to exit building. You will cease fighting and submit to questions, or will be forced to take. your. head. Make wise choice, interloper." Her body settles into a ready position, whether that means fight, port, or restrain. The interloper stops here.

The body language of the girl was all feral animal, fight or flight. She grabbed a handful of what was floor a moment ago and threw it at the Queen’s face in an attempt at diversion, yanking her foot and rolling away. A force launched her up into the air and onto the high ceiling, away from the reach of swords and fists. Upside down, she tried for the door again.

A portal formed between the girl and the door, and Illyana got half of her body out before it was twisting around her, making her trip and fall out of the girl's path. The portal twisted and writhed around her as she struggled fruitlessly. Her burning, angry eyes promised retribution for this humiliation, and the overlay of the demonic visage that lurked beneath flashed around her body in a bright nimbus before receding into her body.

As this was happening, the visitor dropped from the ceiling, hard. Blood was dripping from both nostrils now, and there was a large crack as she hit the ground. Her pilgrimage to the door neared its end, however, as she practically limped the rest of the way. She spared a glance back at Illyana and Namor and Molly, triumphant, before nearly blowing the doors off their hinges with a touch.

Moment of Awesome - Melody Guthrie/Aero: Shortly after her arrival at the mansion, Mel meets a fellow flier and gets words of wisdom from the King of Atlantis.

A laugh bubbled up in Mel’s chest. Lord, she was way too tired for this. Maybe the whole not sleeping thing was catching up to her after all. “Yeah, flyin’ is totally sick, dude.”

Namor shook his head. "It is more than that. My people, you see, we were born to the sea. Promised to the waves, just as humans are condemned to the dirt. I was a child born to both — ears that pointed to the heavens, and the wings to take me there." He stopped himself and took a steadying breath. "The sky is a place neither of our peoples have dominion over. It is freedom. The winds are our right, the clouds our kingdom."

“Huh,” Mel said. “It’s different when you say it like that.” She wasn’t sure she agreed that everyone else was condemned, but flying was freedom. When she was in the air, Mel could do anything, be anyone. All her problems seemed so small from up above.

He wasn’t finished. "Then tell me, why did I find you with your feet on the ground?"

Mel looked out into the dark. Because she was tired. Because it was the middle of the night and she was a flying glow stick. She knew this wasn’t what Namor wanted to hear though. He wanted the itching feeling in the back of her mind ever since the night in the woods. The reason why she hadn’t gone flying with Sam or Jay yet. Why she just sat on the roof most nights.

“Because what if I ain’t the kind of person who deserves somethin’ so miraculous? I can’t fall when it’s taken away if I’m already on the ground.”

Namor's eyes snapped to her's, light refracting like something not quite human. "Fear and doubt are chains forged by lesser men. They only exist to limit those with true power, in an age that already finds any reason to limit those without." His expression tightened. "This world will never give what you deserve. You must take it."

She mulled over his words, but one thing echoed loudest no matter how hard she tried to push it away.

The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

“I guess. Yer probably right,” Mel looked down to pick at a hangnail. A nervous tick. Mama always scolded her for it. “I don’ know.”

"Mel," which was stated both like 'fool' and, somehow, a promise at the same time, "Tell me who would know." It was a potential promise of vengeance, as if Namor would go and teach this Lord a lesson.

Silence stretched out between them in lieu of an answer. Mel didn’t have one.

"Come with me." He did not hold out a hand, but it was implied. Namor increased his hovering height a couple feet to really drive the message home.

Mel followed, because what else could she do? She’d spent the better part of the last week grounded to that roof. If her powers decided to fail again, then at least Namor might catch her.

One foot, then the other, and they were both soaring. Namor continued to ascend — up and up and up — until the mansion was in miniature, then a dot, until it was lost beneath the haze of cloud cover.

“It’s beautiful.” The sky was a never ending pool of moonlight and darkness. It took Mel’s breath away. She had never been up this high or glowed this brightly. If anyone below could see, they might have thought she was a star.

The other man hung, arms still crossed, like a dark opposite — a moon to her star. "Here is where we belong. The privilege that we few can truly can only appreciate. It is not given, or earned. This is our domain." A snarl crossed over his lips. "You cannot let others tell you who you are, or you will only fall."

“I think I understand.” And she did. The crystallized breath in front of her and the heavens above and the lightning below. Men with wings and men without. Miracles. Faith. Mel understood faith. She’d had faith in so many, so much. Maybe it was time she extended that faith to herself.

Moment of Awesome - Kyle Gibney/Wildchild: In the aftermath of Behold A Pale Horse, two old friends have a serious talk.

“It won’t happen again." Finally, Marius dragged his amber eyes down to look at Kyle. "What would I end up as, that third time?"

"How about next time you just fucking tell someone, okay?" Kyle made deliberate eye contact. "Like, please, man, do I need to be in my feelings here? I will go get some more feelings if I have to. I don't get it, I don't get the relapse thing I don't get the medical stuff, I know, okay but I do get that, like, you can just say 'I think the hunger is back, please tell someone' and I'll tell someone else and never bring it up to you again if that's what it takes, as long as you tell me one time so I can make sure you're not doing this dumbfuck shit again, because I can't lose any more fucking friends. We've got a new Forge, and he's a complete asshole, we've got a new Julio and he's a kid and we've got a new Catseye and she's so fucking weird, and I can't go find a new Marius because there won't be one!"

Even through the fog Kyle's vehemence struck something in him. Marius' eyes widened, just a little, before he slid his gaze away again.

He knew Kyle considered him to be someone worth keeping in his life, and always had. They wouldn't have kept in contact for all these years if not for that. But now, in this moment, Marius couldn't understand why. He looked at the determination on Kyle's face and felt only a great emptiness.

Mate, you think I'm so much more than I am. You all did. But I've never been like the rest of you, however much I wanted to be.

But he could pretend. He owed Kyle that, at least.

"Right," Marius said aloud. "Well, no worries. I feel as if I've caused everyone enough trouble, eh? Consider this a lesson learned."

Kyle shut his eyes very slowly, in defiance of Marius' false even-handed tone. "Uh huh. Yeah, this isn't gonna be that. I had to take classes on this shit, I teach teenagers." He pulled a phone out from the depths of the terrible lime basketball shorts. "This is me texting Terry, and god I hope you like bread because expect she'll be showing up a lot to make it. The catering kitchen's still fucked. Whatever room they put you in, you get a roommate until, I dunno, I decide you're not gonna go toss yourself into a volcano." His voice finally had expression, firm stubbornness and a break as he said aloud the fear he had, that Marius would consider suicide. "We don't have any volcano kinetics here right now, don't get any ideas. You get me, my grading papers at 5am and Shamu sleeping on your butt."

"Eh, sorry?" Marius said, unsure whether he'd parsed the rush of words correctly. "I'm going to . . ?"

"You're going to be living with me until such a time that someone decides you're not actively fucking suicidal." Kyle said, eyes still closed, voice on the verge of a growl. "Which means my girlfriend is going to show up at all hours to make food, because that's what she does, and you're going to tolerate my cat who probably is going to sleep on you because he loves everyone more than me."

"I wouldn’t hurt myself," Marius protested, although even he could perceive the frisson at the end of the sentence that implied an unspoken 'here'. He shook his head dismissively. "Look, I appreciate the concern, but this isn't necessary. It's just . . . it's hitting me all at once right now, all right? Once my head's straight again she’ll be right. I'm adaptable. It's one of my few redeeming features."

"I don't believe you." Kyle said. "My ears still work, you were all 'what would I end up as the third time', and you're assuming it'll happen and assuming the platelets are fucked, and man, of everyone I'd think you know I'm not as dumb as I pretend. I'm the... " He cut himself off. "It doesn't matter, you get a suitemate for a while. If nothing else, it means if your platelets are fucked, you're safe. Consider me the emergency parachute."

Marius opened his mouth, then shut it. Finally he met Kyle's gaze, and held it.

Happy Valentine's Day from X-Project!

(Clockwise from top: Arthur Centino, Amanda Sefton, Jessica Jones and Warren Worthington III)