13008/The Story of Doom

The Story of Doom
Date of Scene:	09 October 2022
Location:	Back Yard
Synopsis:	A story is told, unintentionally. A world, discovered. We might have our next Danger Room program idea.
Cast of Characters:	Rahne Sinclair, James Proudstar, Betsy Braddock

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Rahne Sinclair has posed:
It is after sunset, and Rahne the Bold is preparing. She has her axe in hand, and is looking up at the lair of the dark one. "Th' Throne of Infinity will be mine," she says, though her allies have all fallen. "Ah'll avenge them this night."

She knows that Doom Candle and his horde waits within, guards at the ready. She has fought them before. There is no real hope, but she has her heart and her axe. She must succeed, regardless of the odds.

The fact that none of this is true is irrelevant. It's true in her mind, right now. Spending a lot of time alone has given her a very active imagination, and she's got this little scenario going. The backyard is a battlefield, and she readies herself to lift her 'axe', a stick with a bend at one end.

It might look a little odd, especially to the two who are also around. One who was using the area for target practice, and one who was most certainly NOT.

Shush, the epic moment approaches...it will soon begin, as a thrush flies across the sky. For real, that part anyway.

James Proudstar has posed:
The tall man has always been abnormally capable of moving unseen. His black hair bound behind his neck in a tight braid, he creeps barefoot along the tree line with a vibranium bowie knife clutched between pearly white teeth. Wearing just a pair of olive pants, he looks like someone pretending to be in an 80's action flick.

As ridiculous as he might appear, in truth, he's practicing. Fortunately, he's not practicing on the students. He's practicing on the local wildlife. Using the advantageous light of sunset, he creeps in the darker shadows. His toes feel the terrain beneath him, avoiding twig and branch. Slowly, he sneaks up on his quarry and leans down to whisper, "Got you friend."

The one pound gray squirrel abruptly darts away from James and scurries up a nearby tree grateful to have survived its brush with death.

The large native American man smiles a little smugly. Silly as it is sneaking up on a squirrel wasn't a simple feat. He felt a little pride as he stood up to stretch, head turning until he noticed a small figure with an... stick?

Sheathing the bowie knife in a hip holsters, he steps out of the brush to observe Rahne.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Rahne's out there mentally preparing herself for a grand assault on Doom Candle. James is playing hide-and-seek with squirrels. Betsy Braddock, walking the paved path between Xavier's Institute and her place on the Lake, stops to watch them both.

And whereas James is very quiet, Betsy is the next best thing to invisible. She simply blends into the world around her, to the point of her very presence being easily overlooked. She's dressed in tight-fitting denim slung low on her hips, cork wedges, and a loose azure blouse over a darker purple camisole.

Groceries in one hand, purse in the other, she watches the tableu unfolding with a little bafflement. The sheer intensity of purpose radiating off the two strange individuals is certainly potent enough to merit attention.

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
The girl with the axe? Not paying attention, or she'd probably smell them both regardless. But that kind of thing only works if you're not thinking about other things. Important things, like the assault on the Throne.

Rahne arches her head back, then shouts a battle cry, the power of it echoing across the nearby lake. She holds her stick on one hand (totally an axe) and then starts toward a nearby ... stand of fronds.

With what looks like a leaping spin-kick she passes between them, and then comes up in a crouch. She swings low, taking out what appears to be the legs of her own moon-shadow, and then rolls to one side, her face screwed up in righteous anger.

Then she falls, only to rise, wiping her face as if rubbing blood from her lip.

Whatever the hell she's doing, it's much more interesting than watching another episode of Grey's Anatomy. But as she engages the troops at the Melody Gate, she seems to be losing.

James Proudstar has posed:
James can appreciate the need for a little mental escapism. He has his own dark thoughts he'd rather bury in distraction. Focusing on a task, adding a little embellishment and calling it training wasn't a bad combo to stay productive and avoid anger and sorrow.

He approaches Rahne and then crouches down into a squat a handful of meters away, his forearms resting on top of his knees. His toes flex into grass. Briefly, his brown gaze casts over his shoulder to take note of the rustling of a grocery bag. It's then that he notices Betsy. He blinks seeming a little surprised he hadn't noticed her before.

Rahne's battle cry jars him a bit, his head snapping back toward her. His whole body tensing into a coil, he seemed almost close to leaping. When he realizing its... more of her role-play, he relaxes just as abruptly, muscles of his back unknotting. He releases a quick sigh and then falls back onto his butt chuckling. His hand covers his face, he stifles a full laugh then mutters, "Fuck... that scared the shit out of me."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy stays entirely cool and composed. Mostly because the psychic is well prepared for the battle cry, sensing the turbulent emotions churning up Rahne's throat until they're unleashed into the air with that wild, primal sound.

"She's ... having a *really* good time," Betsy informs James a few moments later. She's at least as quiet as he is, but the fact she can walk that silently *in heels* is just adding insult to injury. The socialite hunkers down smoothly next to James and sets her things on the grass, elbows resting on her knees as she watches Rahne's epic charge.

"I have no idea what this is. She's taking it very seriously, though," Betsy observes in a dry and clinical manner.

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
A handful of metres away, you'd think Rahne would have noticed. She's been rated as having senses that can pick a sweatdrop out of a rainstorm, why isn't she reacting?

Probably the arrow she just took in her shoulder, classic hero wound location. She drops her axe, unable to use the arm, and then leaps and takes down a sapling in a killer low-leg takedown. She drives a punch into an imaginary opponent, before rolling off and avoiding an incoming strike. It's so obvious that that's what just happened, from the way she turns her head, the way she's sweating.

She's coming toward them both then, suddenly. She backs away from an attacker, not looking at Betsy or James, about to run them over. She pauses, flinging dirt up into someone's eyes, and snarls.

Then, suddenly, stillness. Instant, complete stillness, she's still in that position, but her eyes and ears are active. Fuck, her body language changed entirely.

She knows that she's got company. And her heartrate is spiking.

Oh god, someone saw that.

James Proudstar has posed:
James frowns a little bit as he takes stock of Betsy. The stealth in heels is noticed. With senses comparable to a certain grouchy Canadian, he finds himself just a little puzzled, but it is a mansion full of gifted people with bizarre talents.

His eyes narrow as he turns to observe Rahne again, "She's imagining a battle. Her style is very... scrappy."

James tilts his head and smiles slightly in bemusement as Rahne backs up towards them. Noticing the change in body language, he considers the situation for a moment. In a rare moment of a mercy, he snatches up a nearby branch, felled by Rahne's efforts and pokes her in the back.

"Sadly... the noble and fierce warrior is undone by treachery. A dishonorable.. uh... knave?" He seems to question his use of the word. "Strikes from the shadows... the warrior is... uh... doomed by her own battle focus."

Secretly, he hopes that by 'playing along' he lessens the potential embarrassment, but that could very well backfire.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy takes an altogether different tack; she steps aside while James 'stabs' Rahne, and reaches a hand in the direction of the abandoned axe. A twitch of her wrist brings the stick flying to her grip like it's on a string, and Betsy swings it once with an experimental twist of her wrist.

The kunoichi flips it around and offers it to Rahne by the notional 'grip'. "A tomahawk is a very effective weapon, but only if used correctly. You should let the weight of it do the work. Your shoulder is much stronger than your wrist." She steps back from Rahne and gestures vaguely at James. "You are lucky enough to have someone in the school who is quite proficient at them. He might be able to teach you a thing or two."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
The poke makes her whole body tense. She's shaking, the little redheaded hero. But to Betsy's mind, the thing that's messing with Rahne most is this:

This isn't how she was supposed to die.

She had a vague idea of the outcome of her little event. It had a romantic kiss from the guard captain, and a vague idea of a trail of bodies, with tears and a last breath held for a moment, and perfection.

She slumps, laying on her side, then slowly turns and looks at the axe, and the sticks. Both the one that is being offered, and the other. Then she buries her face in the dirt.

"Thought nobody waus out tnite," she says. "Obviously." She blows out a breath, pushing some dirt aside. Then she reaches and takes the 'axe', proceeding to bang herself on the back of the head with it.

James Proudstar has posed:
James keeps the stick trained on Rahne while listening to Betsy's comments regarding his tomahawk proficiency. He shrugs in agreement, nodding. "An important tool that is also a good weapon... It's certainly a weapon you should put your whole body behind... and I think I saw that in Rahne's form. She... puts her whole spirit behind it. That's a good thing."

When Rahne kowtows into the dirt, he frowns. Rubbing the back of his head, he kneels down beside her and snatches the axe stick to stop her from bludgeoning herself. "Lose the shame and retain your spirit. Seriously, I'm out here half-naked playing hide and sneak with squirrels... And you think you have something to be embarrassed about?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Ranhe, /get up/," Betsy says with a little edge to her voice. "You're far from the first person caught tilting at imaginary windmills. Trying to hide in the dirt is fruitless *and* you'll get yourself dirty." She exhales through her nostrils and glances at James, then makes a little gesture at the girl. It's clear Betsy's not entirely certain where to go with this; Rahne is certainly deep in her little fantasy, and taking it very seriously. Whether that's an example of an active and healthy imagination, or an immature personality, Betsy can't seem to decide on quite yet.

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Of course she put her whole spirit behind it. It was life or death, and no one was coming to help her with the Infinity Throne. A mission, one worth losing a life over. Or gaining a legend. The kind of thing that you put your soul into, where every swing is greater than you are.

Where you're more than the tiny person you are in the world.

Rahne fumbles for the stick a moment, then lets her hand rest on the back of her head. Just for a moment, before she sits up and looks at them both. Short red hair, tiny stature, and a heart of such fierceness that it needs to be so much more she invents her own worlds. This isn't her first foray into fantasy. Into a dream of being worth something real.

But. She's been embarrassed before. And there's no judgement here, not for that. Not for the story she was telling herself, or for being lost inside. So, she arches a hesitant smile.

And she dares to breathe, saying something she never knew.

"Maybe next time, I might have help? I could use a team."

James Proudstar has posed:
James tilts his head and then pats Rahne on the head with a chuckle. "Teamwork is a big part of what this school has always been about, yeah? Doesn't stop being the case for older students or members of the family."

He continues to stay crouched, given his height its almost a polite thing to do. Raising an eyebrow, he looks toward Betsy. "Nothing wrong with a little dirt..."

Another glance back toward the red head on the ground. "Wouldn't mind seeing whatever is in your brain becoming a training scenario. I bet it'd be fun... Also wouldn't mind playing the villain if you ever wanted to spar."

His eyes narrow, "That fierceness in you. That's a familiar thing, wouldn't mind helping you focus that."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy just wrinkles her nose at James' pronouncement. Dirt? Unthinkable! Then again, Betsy's shoes alone probably cost a modest car payment, and the rest of her clothing is exclusively designer apparel. Nothing off-the-rack, even the camisole.

She looks back at Rahne and uplifts her chin at the girl. "Who do you see when you are fighting?" she inquires. "You're very passionate about it. I can see how they're arrayed in your head, but not their faces." Betsy touches a pinkie finger to her darkly aubergine hair, pushing a few loose strands behind her ear again. "Is it someone you know? Or just some enemy you dreamed up?"

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
She's quiet a bit, not sure how to answer either of them. Rahne glances down at herself, at her clothing. She's come in with half a tree in her hair more than once, attending class without a flick of an eyelid. It doesn't register, dirt is ...natural. Perhaps it should? She'll think about it.

She opens her mouth about the training scenario, then closes it as he goes on. Then, Betsy.

Rahne looks at them both when they've stopped, and looks at them. Quietly. Kneeling.

Then she begins to talk, hesitantly at first. Then, with passion. About the story of Doom, and the Shadow Knights quest for Infinity. If her teachers thought her uncreative, that is dashed into the rocks forever.

It takes time. She has names for the merchants, has met the maid at the Cursed Tower, and has relationships with Kings. A place where stealth is valued over pride, and valiance is gold.

Yes, she dreamed it up. Because she is so little compared to her teammates, she's created a world where being less is something more. And yes, it's fantasy. Make a damn good comic book though.

James Proudstar has posed:
James murmurs, "Someone needs to reconnect with the Earth..." in regards to Betsy's obvious distaste and concern for her apparel.

He then sits on the grass, arms resting on his knees as he listens to Rahne's description of the world she has created. Closing his eyes, he does his best to visualize this realm of fantasy. For a brief moment, he's reminded of the old stories he used to hear as a kid... from voices now gone.

Shaking his head with a grunt, he clears away the dark thoughts trying to creep in. "You should channel that into a book or a game." He adds encouragingly.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"It's... comprehensive," Betsy's forced to admit. The scope of detail is significant, but it's the passion and joy in Rahne's voice that really speaks to Betsy's own subdued sense of imagination. She can picture it-- almost-- the sprawl of the township, the thrill of the quest, the very *depth* of the world.

But Betsy's more pragmatic aspects win out, and the flickering inspiration vanishes just as it began. "A book would be a good place to start," Betsy agrees with James. "I know we have a few other aspiring authors here. Perhaps the book club would be a good place to start," she suggests to Rahne. "I'm sure they would love to read what you come up with and help you develop it more."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne trails off, realizing that she's bared something so intensely personal. The fact that some of her inner turmoil is borne out, that she's jealous of how powerful her friends are, bared for the two to see. How her own abilities pale, but she's made them into a story. That she thought was hers alone.

"There's more," she admits. Then she mumbles, something about thinking about it. If she's hidden some of the more explicit details, well. She's allowed. And any sex scenes were always hers alone anyway.

But she thinks a moment, wondering. If it might be something to consider, perhaps. She might ask, if she can see if there's a way to defeat the Melody Gate, by building it for real.

The Danger Room as seen worse, after all. Or has it.