2013.10.20 - The Book of Revelations

Something to drink?
In this instance, Shift considers it worth the risk. He's with two powerful telepaths, and a couple nips likely won't kill anyone. Out from his jacket comes an old flask, which is promptly slung across the room in Nate's direction.
"It's not de best stuff in da world, but it'll take de edge off." What Kwabena needs is not a drink. With the window propped open, he takes a seat upon the edge and produces his pack of cigarettes, beat up as it is, and lifts one from the soft pack with his teeth. He's quite interested to know about this person named Apocalypse, but for the moment, he seems satisfied to simply retrieve his zippo and light the cigarette, taking a few hearty puffs. The smoke goes out the window (for the most part), and he's conscious enough to exhale the rest promptly into the clean air outside.
Telepathy and alcohol don't mix well, but Nate has learned to balance some drinking with keeping up his mind-shields. Almost always. It is a skill in training.
He catches the flask, opens it and takes a sip. Approval. He takes a long draft, closing his eyes. "Apocalypse. Cable recognized the name, so a version of him is here, somewhere." He opens his eyes and projects telepathically the image of a massively built man, obviously a mutant. He wears an armor that seems to grow from his own body. "Apocalypse names was... he frowns, I don't remember. He claimed his real name means 'The First One' because he was the first mutant, and was born thousands of years ago in ancient Egypt. In my world he was the mutant that started the war with humankind. Utterly ruthless, he didn't hesitate to use nukes and other weapons of mass destruction to annihilate most human nations, killing billions." He passes the flask to Rachel, "you come from the future, Ray. Ever heard of him?"
<OOC> Nate Grey says, "http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/scale_super/7/75497/2699522-apocalypse_s.jpg"
 
Rachel watches the flask sail across the room to be deftly caught by Nate, a bit of a smirk touching her lips. It's noted that the flask didn't get offered in her direction, even if bourbon's not to her taste. Seems like Shift's taken her warnings about alcohol around her to heart - and also the wrong way. She was only looking out for his privacy, after all. She's sure he can guard his mouth more easily than his brain.
When the cigarettes are produced, however, Rachel shoots him a look and pointedly moves away from him, walking over to where Nate sits and perching on the arm of the couch. At least this time Shift's cigarette doesn't go out the window, as she recognises he needs it more than she doesn't need to smell it.
Rachel listens as Nate speaks, with a small frown as Nate projects the image of Apocalypse. She tries to place him in the chaotic jumble of her memories and fails, shaking her head in answer to Nate's question. "Not where I came from." She replies, waving off the offer of the flask and taking another drink from her still unfinished bottle of water. "There was a war, in my past." She shrugs. "Maybe in your future, too. I'm not sure any more. But this... Apocalypse didn't start it. And the mutants didn't win. We lost, big time. The Sentinels ruled my America. Mutants were either dead, in camps or..." She looks uneasy. "Worse." She shakes her head again. "Something happened to me, when I came here. My memories are a bit of a mess." It's a reluctant admission. "But I'd remember that guy. And I don't."
Small things, right? It's with a dour smirk that Kwabena notices Rachel making distance, though he appreciates that this time, the square doesn't go sailing through the rectangle. He listens, quietly, looking between the two as they speak in turn, closing his eyes for a moment when the image of Apocalypse is projected into his mind and frowning when Nate explains just what, exactly, 'The First One' did with his power.
Shifting slightly more toward them while holding the cigarette out the window, he interjects. "One moment. Let me ask something here." He looks between the two, gesturing back and forth in tandem. "Dere's something still unknown to me. How did you both end up here? In dis year, 2013?" He grimaces just slightly, for there's still a small part of him that hates acknowledging the ludicrous idea of time travel. "Was it intentional? Did someone send you here? Someone like Cable?" Beat. "And, more specifically, why?"
"My memory was also scrambled when I got here," notes Nate, looking back at Rachel with a frown. "It cleared up slowly. Sometimes I wish it didn't." He turns to Shift, "no one brought me here. I was fighting Apocalypse. The X-Men were also there. Magneto, Gambit, Sabretooth, Colossus, Iceman... I can't remember. Apocalypse had a crystal shard and he was saying how he was going to escape the doomed world and conquer another. The nukes were falling all over America, somehow the humans of Eurasia had broken the Sea Wall and launched missiles. Apocalypse countered with his own nukes, so everything was going to hell." 
Hmm, rambling Nate. He catches himself and projects an image of the M'kraan Crystal shard. Probably nothing either of the others will recognize, although the Phoenix would for sure.
"So I took the crystal, then we were attacked by Holocaust. Apocalyse's son and one of his Horsemen." He explains, "I got separated from the others. At one point I stabbed Holocaust armor with the crystal. There was a flash of light. Next I know I am in Central Park picking fights with the Martian Manhunter and a bunch of other costumed folks. I met Magik there, too."
 
Rachel tries very, very hard to keep from wincing when Shift asks his question. She's been lucky so far, but she knew that sooner or later she'd be asked specifics - her story is a hell of a lot to take on faith, after all.
The trouble is, she doesn't know half the answers herself.
As Nate looks toward her, Rachel meets his gaze with a slightly hunted look in her eyes. "Mine hasn't." She says, almost defensively, then falls silent as Nate tells his story. For a moment she considers it a mercy, giving her a few moments more to try to get her thoughts in order, but as she speaks she realises it's anything but. What he'd said earlier, about a war, with billions dead? It'd been so abstract, so at odds with not only her own world but this one as well, that it hadn't really touched her. Now, though, as he speaks the names she recognises, and talks about the nukes falling, the end of the world... Rachel just finds herself looking at him. To have gone through all that, and still be more together than she is... it's impressive. Scary, but impressive.
As for the image of the M'kraan crystal, nothing sparks within Rachel. Whatever poorly-understood link she shares with the Phoenix, her mind has been her own since the encounter with the Darkness, and she prefers it that way.
When Nate finally falls silent, Rachel keeps looking at him for a couple of seconds more, the look in her eyes oddly intense. There are things she might say, if they were alone, but not now, not even with her telepathy. Breaking eye contact, she looks over at Shift, aware it's her turn, and that defensiveness comes into her again, and she shrugs. "I wish I could tell you. Frankly, I wish I could tell ME. But it's all..." She raises a hand, gesturing toward her head. "Broken glass, up here. I was... I remember..." She takes a fast, angry breath, jaw tightening as she suddenly feels so /useless/. "We weren't in the camps. Not any more. We were trying to stop... something. Scott, Jean and I..." Rachel's expression clouds, and she frowns, looking inward. "No. They weren't there. Why did I think they were... It was Kate. Just Kate and me. And then... and then..." Rachel shakes her head, the action sharp and furious. "I can't /remember/." She looks from Shift to Nate. "I'm sorry."
At first, Shift notices the wince that's coming from Rachel. His brow furrows with a touch of concern but in short order, Nate decides to go first. He gets the full brunt of Shift's attention, mis-matched eyes burrowed upon the young man attentively. Even as he lifts the cigarette, drags from it, and exhales back into the air outside, his attention remains. Only when Rachel defends herself by claiming that her memory hasn't cleared does he look her way.
Once again, Kwabena expresses concern. He listens to Rachel's jumbled attempt at explaining her past (the future), and there's even a chance where he might share a look of concern with Nate before diverting his attention back to Rachel.
One final drag is taken before he flicks the cigarette through the window and stands up. Crossing the room, he joins the pair by propping himself upon the arm of a chair, now between them.
"It's alright, Rachel." He nods his head encouragingly to her, adding helpfully, "We'll get to de bottom of dis." The tone of his voice suggests that he's trying to draw a few lines, perhaps even leading the conversation intentionally.
"Nate." He looks over to the man. "Specifics aside, it's safe to claim dat your arrival here has to do with de crystal, and de pahson named Holocaust. Pahhaps the crystal itself, or the act of stabbing him."
Pausing, Kwabena reaches for a pile of materials upon the coffee table. Rummaging about, he comes up with one of those anti-Magneto propaganda fliers and a pencil. Turning the flier over, he begins to sketch out something of a map, an attempt to map out the way these timelines seem to converge. At the top are listed the words 'RACHEL', 'NATE', and 'CABLE (?)' in capital letters. Between these names are sketched a number of others, ranging from Holocaust, Apocalypse, and four numbered Horsemen, to the various names of the X-Men Nate had mentioned. Upon the bottom there is a thick line, with the year '2013' and 'NOW' written. Beneath nate, he draws a representation of the crystal, then connects 'NATE', the crystal, Holocaust, and 'NOW' with straight lines.
Once finished, he mock-stabs the paper with the eraser of his pencil, and tosses the utensil upon it, as if giving the others permission to make their own marks.
"Now, you say dat Magneto is one of us in your future?" he asks, for clarification. "Suggesting dat Magneto, like all of us, are an unknown." He looks between the two. "Any of us, at any time, could make a decision to set us upon one side or de oddah. Like Russian Roulette, playing with multiple possible futures."
"It wasn't the future, Kwa, it was 1995 when I left my world," explains Nate. It is funny how people always think he is from the future. "Magneto was not 'one of us' in my world. He was the founder of the X-Men. He set up a mutant school in Europe, somewhere in the east. Apocalypse had it razed very early in the war. When Africa became nearly inhabitable, Apocalypse moved his capital to New York and Magneto..." he pauses, remembering. Then his eyes widen. "Hell. Magneto set his base on Xavier's land. I hadn't realized before, but it was the same place. The lake, the forest... although it was dead in my world. There was a large, classy mansion where the school is now, still fairly whole. But the landscape was the same."
 
Rachel offers another jerky nod in acknowledgment of Shift's reassurance, but she still seems tense and unhappy. Inside, she's kicking herself, because this simply shouldn't be an issue any more. Jean agreed to work with her to sort out the mess inside her head, and Rachel's been avoiding the subject ever since, instead of doing something about it. Having to face the fact that she's afraid of the truth isn't particularly pleasant.
Rachel takes a moody swig from her water bottle as Shift's attention moves to Nate, but as he begins writing on the back of the flyer her curiosity is drawn almost unwillingly to what he's doing, and after a moment she leans forward, interested in spite of herself. She even smiles as Nate corrects Shift's assumption. He doesn't seem like an import from some twenty years in the past of this world. His world, whatever else it was, must have departed far further from this one than her own did. She can see the roots of her world in this one every time she looks around. That thought makes her smile fade a little.
Rachel makes a quiet, thoughtful noise as Nate talks about 'his' Magneto. "We all assume this the the 'right' world and our worlds were 'wrong'." Rachel says slowly. "Have you ever wondered if this world is the aberration?" There's one image from her past that's become clearer, one that she's had every reason to think about recently, and she shares it with the others now, telepathically: An older Magneto, in a wheelchair. "He was one of us, where I came from. He may not always have been, but in the end he fought on our side." Her eyes find Nate, then move back to Shift. "It's only here that he's trying to push us over the brink. He..." Rachel's words slow, as her memory clears a little. "I remember him, talking to me, about how the past had to be changed. It... didn't work. He didn't send me back." Rachel's eyes are open, but unfocused, looking into her own past. "I don't remember it all, but..." The pencil rises from the table, and without Rachel seeming aware of it, it scratches against the paper, drawing a stylised image of a firebird, wings spread. A line links her name to the firebird, and then to 2013, before the pencil drops back to the table. "Something thought NOW was important."
With an 'a-ha' gesture toward Nate, Kwabena snatches the pencil up and scribbles the year '1995' in the area above 'NATE'. "So, whatevah happened to change de course of your timeline from mine, it happened in de past. Before den. Possibly even before Erik Lehnsherr or Charles Xavier were born."
Rachel's first suggestion draws an even greater look of curiousity from Shift, and he decidedly adds the word 'Shift', notably in lower-case, around the presumed timeline reading '2013' and 'NOW'. As if to suggest he's open to the concept that the timeline where he's from is the aberration.
Sitting back, he easily relieves the pencil to Rachel's telepathic musings. An eyebrow is cocked at what she adds to the paper, and he turns a quizzical look Nate's way. "I can shoot a kid at de McDonald's Drive Through, and nothing may evah change. I can shoot de President, and it changes everything. Or, I shoot de President and I was always meant to shoot de President, but if I shoot de kid at McDonalds, I'm killing de next Gutenberg. Einstein. Xavier." He smirks slightly. "Yeah, I've watched Stah Trek. I just nevah thought I'd be having a serious convahstation about dis shit."
Leaning forward, Kwabena folds his hands. He studies that paper, that which has been drawn as 'fact', and all of the empty space that clearly signifies the 'unknown'. "What we do today..." He shakes his head. "Cable's right. It could have dire consequences. But, we're here now, and if we just pull out and go home... dat could have dire consequences." Reaching for the pencil, he jabs tiny dots next to the words 'Magneto' and 'Apocalypse'. "Almost has me guessing we haven't really seen de true threat yet." He taps the pencil next to the names 'Apocalypse', 'Holocaust' and each of the four numbered horsemen.
"Book of Revelations," he quips. "Chaptah Six, verses one through eight." Then, he quotes, "I looked, and dere before me was a white horse! It's ridah held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conquerah bent on conquest." Looking up, he paraphrases the rest. "De Red Horseman was given powah to take peace from de earth and cause men to kill each oddah. De Black Horseman was to inflict Famine. Poverty. De Pale Horseman, de fourth and final, was named Death. Hell followed closely behind him, and dey were given powah ovah a fourth of de earth to kill by sword, famine, plague, and by wild beast."
He taps the fourth horseman on the page, then in tiny print, adds 'Doctor Milton (?)'.
Sitting back, Kwabena frowns in contemplation. Then he looks to Rachel and says, with both apology and candidness, "We need to get your head sorted out, Rachel."
Since Rachel doesn't want the bourbon, Nate takes another sip and then tosses it back to Shift. "Apocalypse woke up. That was what happened. He sleeps between his... uh, I don't know how to call it. He supposedly brought doom to entire civilizations because his doctrine that only the strong should survive. But that might be bullshit. It wasn't about strength, it was about serving him or dying." He rubs his temples.
"Ray, maybe you should get the memory problem shorted out soon." Although that she is not particularly interested in doing it speaks volumes to Nate about how bad it must have been. "I am not sure about the theory of an invisible hand brining people here, or broken parallel earths. But it might be very important to know if you came here by design or by accident. If I can do anything to help..." he offers.
"Shift, hmm... oh, Christian mythology. Heh." He frowns, trying to remember. "Sinister, Holocaust, Abyss and some other guy... Russian, I think. But don't overthink it. The X-Men killed several Horsemen during the war. Apocalypse just replaced them with other powerful mutants."
Rachel doesn't know if anything she said was relevant, but having pulled another reliable sliver of memory from the mess inside her head has at least made her feel slightly better about herself. She nods ruefully at Shift's summation. "Welcome to our world. I don't know if I'm 'meant' to be here, and if I am? I have no idea what I'm 'meant' to do."
She looks thoughtful, then shakes her head at Shift's reminder of 'dire consequences'. "You can't think too much about that or you wouldn't do anything. Hope has this crazy idea that if her presence changes things too much, she'll never be born and...." Rachel waves a hand. "I don't know. Wink out of existence or something. I don't believe that." She pushes her free hand through her hair as she looks down at the spiderwebbing diagram, a bit of frustration in the movement. "If you're right, though, and there is something bigger out there?" She shakes her head. "We need more information." Uppermost in her mind is the thought that the threats they've already identified are dire enough.
And then both Shift and Nate gang up on her.
Well, not really, but for a moment as she looks between the two of them that's what it feels like, and she answers hotly, "Hey, this isn't my fault! I didn't cause this, and..." Rachel cuts herself off, clenching her teeth tightly together and closing her eyes for a moment. "Sorry. You're right. You're both right. I just..." She cuts that off, too, and takes a breath before answering Nate's offer. "Thanks. But you really don't want to see what's inside my head, Nate." All true, and she is grateful, but /she/ doesn't want Nate seeing what's in there either. "Jean already knows. I'll talk to her."
It might make sense for Kwabena to default to Christian mythology, given he was raised in the heavily missionized Ghana. "Right," he confirms for Nate, though the tone of his voice suggests he doesn't quite buy into such stories. "And de Apostle John was a mutant precog." Regardless, he studies the map thoughtfully for a moment, listening to what Rachel says. He snatches the flask back from Nate when it's offered, though instead of drinking, he merely stares at it, like it was something upon which to focus the complicated theories being discussed.
Shift sits a bit more upright with Rachel's initial retort, but when she simmers down, he offers her a half-hearted smile. "Eidah you came here on your own, or you were brought here. We need to find out. Dat's just Nate and I, being pragmatic." He glances Nate's way indicatively. "But neidah of us think dis is your fault. As much as it's anyone's fault. We only need to collect everything we can, try to make a decision, and go from dere."
There is caring in Kwabena's expression with what he says next. "Jean took my memories apart and pieced dem back togedah. Seamlessly. It was a jumble at first, difficult trying to reconcile what I did undahcovah, what I felt and how I thought, with how I really think and feel, but... well, it took some time, but I was able to piece it togedah. Someone I trusted recommended I meditate." He smirks. "Felt silly as hell, but it works."
Now, he goes back to the drawing, amending a few things. He places the names 'Sinister', 'Holocaust', 'Abyss' and 'Unknown Russian' in a category marked '4 Horsemen', before looking over at Nate. "Not direct symbols from de Christian mythos, but perhaps significant enough. Positions dat Apocalypse feels must be filled at any given time." He points the pencil Nate's way before dropping it back down upon the drawing. "It's a place to start. We have made progress."
Finally he unscrews the cap from his flask, taking one hearty snort while giving Rachel a dubious look. Soon enough the flask is replaced, only this time it's left on the table, rather than stowed away in his jacket. "Prelude is scheduled to make a major speech tomorrow. We must assure her safety. When dat's ovah?" He taps the map. "We'll come back to dis. Agreed?"
Nate nods to Shift. A couple times. "We need to check with Jean, but we should hit that lab. Maybe next time Magneto is out of country, he travels around with a large number of mutant bodyguards I figure must be some of the heavy hitters of his Brotherhood." So if they attack when those can't interfere, all the better. "I talked to him in New York, by the way. I think it was hate on first sight." He smirks.
 
Rachel grimaces a bit, showing for the second time today how bad she is at taking reassurance. "I know, I know." She mutters, half under her breath. She could explain why she flared up, that so much has been her fault in the past, the things she's been responsible for, the things she couldn't control, but still blames herself for. But she knows what a spectacularly bad idea that would be.
She's about to offer a bit of reassurance of her own, that she /will/ dig the truth out of her mind and share it with them, when Shift speaks again and she's a little... taken aback. At least this time she realises what he's trying to do. She nods slowly. "Jean can do it. That's... not what I'm worried about." She musters a crooked smile without any genuine humour in it, and shakes her head to forestall any questions about just what she is worried about. If she's right to worry, they'll find out soon enough.
She doesn't take any part in Shift and Nate's discussion of theology, and is too engrossed in her own thoughts to pay any attention to Shift's drinking. It's only when he taps his creation for emphasis that she seems to wake up again. "All right." She agrees easily enough, though she doesn't sound terribly enthusiastic.
Nate's suggestion, though. That makes her look up quickly. "It has defenders." She points out, but she's not deterred. "But we could do it. It might be worth taking a piece off the board." That's for Shift's benefit, him and his Chess references. "Magneto?" Rachel asks questioningly, looking to Nate again. She remembers his passionate arguments, even before they came to this island. "I guess he's really not the man you remember." The words aren't spoken flippantly, there's genuine sympathy there. And it helps her to remember that, whatever else he might be, this world's Magneto isn't hers, either.
Nate turns to look at Rachel. He hesitates, because really, if his her world was as bad as his own, maybe she is better off not remembering and rebuilding her life here without regrets and trauma. But what if she was sent back in time to do something specific? He sighs and leans back. "Yeah, I had to see myself. But he is an autocrat with a short fuse. He can't set an example for the world about what mutant are. He will make people afraid. Cable is wrong, we need someone... I don't know, maybe like Superman. Someone people look up to despite being powerful." He stands up, heading for the window and looking outside. "I am going back to the US, but I will be back for the elections, or for the hit on Sinister's lab. Whatever comes first." He heads out, "you take care, sister," he says from the door, offering the redhead a smile.
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