Slept through the age of reason...

[Jack Russell]

No? Well, somebody’d better. Or do you expect me to believe you’re really Jack Russell, and the last ten years was just some kind of unfortunate misunderstanding? Do you even know what I had to do to Jack? The response is equivalent to a confusing slap in the face, and Jack openly stares, a crease marking his brow. The urge to join in on the shouting match strikes him, but he promptly bites his tongue, figuring now is not the best time to get worked up in a time where clearly everyone is confused.

Another Toni suddenly appears before them, but older, and regarding the group with an intent seriousness he could never imagine holding Toni's face. They're different people, but to Jack, they smell exactly the same, just one more worn with age. What the hell?! he exclaims in his head, the same statement marked into his expression as he takes a double-take between the Toni next to him as she proclaims the distinct age difference and the one standing in front of them. Jeez, Warren. You weren’t kidding. These guys look really convincing. What are they talking about?

Jack flinches in slight alarm as two more bodies suddenly appear in the room, one of them Toni's brother and the other the institute's resident human computer--Bertrand. The whole situation is getting way too complicated, although it seems to be getting more confusing and hostile each time new people appear, judging by Warren's reaction to himself and Toni's fluctuation of irritation to anger as her brother appears--which doesn't make any sense either.

Warren… what year is it?

The realization strikes him hard that this can't be an illusion like either side thinks it is.

Left and right, a mass of information joins the floor, more personal occurrences from Josh and then a long string of complicated smatter from Bertrand.

The future means a different year--different days, different cycles. Right. October of 2027, to be a little more precise. Instantly, Jack's mind starts working out of habit, fumbling a little with some numbers in his head. So, as I was saying… I’m going to accept that you guys really believe you are who you say you are, and that you really don’t remember anything after 2007. And if you’ll agree to let us run some tests to confirm it I’ll provisionally accept that your genetic scans will match up with our records: one tactically impaired shapeshifter I’ll believe, five is stretching it. It's hard to think with all the noise going on, and Jack isn't very good at math, and half of what Warren has just said he's missed because he's trying to think. Anyway, my point is, until we know for sure where you come from, who sent you here, and why, we’re going to have to treat you very carefully, keep an eye out for implanted bombs Bombs? Is he serious? and post-hypnotic suggestions and who-knows-what. I’ll do my best to keep you comfortable and occupied – starting with catching you up on the history you’re missing – but… "I suppose I might as well say this bluntly and avoid confusion. You’re welcome to stay here as my guests until we figure out the situation, but guests or not you’re going to stay here until we figure out the situation. Is that clear?

A silence starts, and Jack finally speaks up after nearly 10 minutes of silence. "I'd.. check your computer before you keep me in here." It's not that he wants to escape--although the idea of open air seems kind of nice at this point--but for the sake of everyone's safety, a closed space and an aggravated beast doesn't equal a logical answer.

[Warren Worthington III]

> "I'd.. check your computer before you keep me in here."

At first, Warren isn’t quite sure if that’s a threat or a non-sequitur or what, exactly… then he remembers who this is supposed to be, and what time of the month it is. He doesn’t spend as much time out in the open air as he used to, or as he’d like, but it’s still enough to be aware of the phase of the moon when he thinks about it.

"Oh, dear Lord. You’re going to lose it at sunset, aren’t you?" He rolls his eyes heavenward for a moment, then shrugs. "OK. I’ll set up a restraining cell, then… Lord knows it wouldn’t be the first time." He looks around the room, trying not to avoid looking at Josh and failing, and adds "Anybody else have any issues they need dealt with while they’re here?"

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

> "OK. I’m going to accept that you guys are sincere about who you think you are and when you think it is. I need you to accept that you’re wrong. It’s – "

We are not wrong. We’re not the ones who have changed and become... I don’t know what you’ve become! Josh’s mouth work clenches furiously for a second, about to launch into an objection, when Chris Bertrand suddenly arrives on the scene, and promptly launches into a monologue. Based on Warren’s earlier allusions, Chris’s conjectures aren’t that surprising. Delivery is a little off… but at least you can trust him for the facts.

> "Right. October of 2027, to be a little more precise."

It’s one thing to hear the news from their resident robot (post-Bobby, of course) but entirely another to hear it from someone who he trusts unconditionally. Or used to. I wonder what caused him to start acting like this?

Wait. Didn’t he say… that I’m dead? Josh starts breathing faster at the thought. If it really was 2027, and he was dead, it meant that half of his life was already over. Here I thought I was going to be able to get old and stupid with Warren. I guess not. His mind begins racing, and it suddenly becomes fairly hard not to burst into tears - again. What the hell is wrong with us? Normal people don’t find out they when they die - it just happens. Why can’t we be like that?!

Is there any way to change it, now that I know? It’s not as if me living or dying is going to throw the universal cosmic balance off, right? Josh bites his lip, and a distressed look ghosts across his face. Warren dying would have completely destroyed him, so it made some sense that some of future-Warren’s more annoying personality changes resulted from that. And whatever’s been going on for the last few years…

> My working theory is that someone got his hands on genetic samples of the original X-Men and is growing clones… maybe they figure the Brotherhood needs new recruits, or something. How they’ve managed to impart cloned memory beats me, I didn’t think that was possible –

That’s impossible. “You think we’re clones? That’s ridiculous. We can’t clone humans safely yet, and even if we could, it breaks about a million international laws - -” At this point, Josh realizes that his scientific knowledge is 20 years out of date. Too bad I’m not around, or I could pick my future self’s brain! Hah, hah... “I see we don’t have a lot of choice here. Toni or I have to be on the analysis team.” His voice doesn’t make it sound like a request. “Since I’m the only member of the X-Men here, I’m supposed to watch out for everyone, and I can’t do that if you’re faking test results.”

Josh watches the exchange between Warren and Jack silently. They’d been able to avoid any incidents thus far at the Institute, but there was no telling how much damage he could do in an enclosed space if he lost control.

> "Anybody else have any issues they need dealt with while they’re here?"

Josh scowls. “What happens when our DNA results come back and you confirm that we’re not Mystique’s quintuplets? We’re right back where we started. There’s no way to prove that we’re not clones, right? We can’t win.” He gets up from the crate he was sitting on, and heads for the door. Before he walks out, he glances back at the group. “This is crap. The Warren I knew had an actual sense of justice. But then, it hardly matters, because I’m going to get myself killed before I'm even 40!” As he slams the door shut behind him, a sinking feeling permeates him, and Josh lets the tears he was holding back start flowing again. He stumbles a few steps down the hallway, and finds an empty galley-type kitchen, where he drops listlessly into a seat.

This is totally fucked up.

[Warren Worthington III]

Warren watches Josh's doppleganger's tantrum in astonished silence... whatever he'd expected, it wasn't that. And even knowing that it isn't really Josh, that it can't be, he still wants to chase after the kid and pretend the last twenty years never happened.

It would have been our 20th anniversary, he realizes. He tries to imagine that and fails... it's just words. The reality is Josh died over ten years ago. That's it. And as much as he might enjoy the fantasy that it never happened, that he somehow gets a second chance now to make it right, he has too many responsibilities in the real world to hare off on a fantasy hunt.

He wants to argue, to make Josh -- dammit, it's not Josh! -- understand the situation. But he suspects that he understands it perfectly well, he just needs time to get used to it. So he takes a deep breath and shuts up.

After J -- after he slams the door behind him, Warren looks around at the other arrivals and shakes his head. "I'm sorry. You're all certainly welcome to observe the testing procedures; in your position I would want to do the same. In the meantime, well... we have enough room here for all of you, and I think our holding cells should be strong enough to keep the werewolf restrained for a few nights, there's plenty of food and the computer system should bring you up to speed on history fairly quickly.

The outer gates won't open for you, though, and the local network is physically isolated from the Matrix, and... well, I'll appreciate it if you don't try to escape or signal out. If this location is compromised it won't be a huge blow, but it will be a setback for us. But if you really can't accept that, let me know and I'll try to arrange something else. Only, well, I can't make any promises until I know what's really going on."

He shrugs, not knowing what else to say, and turns to the older Fortress. "We should leave them to discuss the situation among themselves, I think... but it's up to you. Just remember - whatever they look like, whatever they think they are, they aren't your... they aren't Jack and Matthew. Don't do anything to endanger the team."

With that, he walks out of the meeting room, intending to see to the various arrangements for their new... guests? Prisoners? He's really not sure. But clearly part of his mind has its own agenda, as what he actually does is walk through the same door Josh did, into the kitchen.

(( OOC: dropping out of this thread... y'all can feel free to stick around on it or create other threads pairing off or whatever is fun! ))

[Christopher Bertrand]

Although paying marginal attention to what is going on in between Josh and Warren, Christopher is more consumed in the exploration of the Internet, which has made horribly powerful advances, and is now trying to keep his mind out.

Going on with his work in getting attached to the Internet, Chris lets his eyes meander through the room, from one person to another, until they focus briefly on the door, and then Warren as the prior object of interest is slammed shut. At the exact moment that he opens his mouth to say something, however, he manages to get in.

Immediately finding himself immersed in the complicated web of information, true, false, and unneeded, Christopher closes his mouth and stabilizes himself, his eyes following the actions of his mouth.

Such abundance of information, such speed of transfer. It is above what the predictions about Internet advancement had decided was most likely. It is, I dare say, above the maximum set by the predictions... he thinks, his words spilling as harmless code, useless cookies, all over the web, realizing that he had forgotten about one variable in his "predictions"- the spark of human genius that tended to skip every few centuries or decades.

And to think that I have this opportunity to learn so mu- You do not exist, insignificant virus. Go away. What the hell? I shall repeat the offered solutions in a more clear way, virus: you may either leave now, or suffer from attempting a poor impersonation.[/color]

Completely bewildered, Chris did not move, and barely had time to create a quick-fix protection as a series of malignant codes was sent at his mind. Siphoning as much data as he could at the same time as he is building his defenses, aware that the attacks would come yet again, the young cyberpath finally realizes what is transpiring.

No, hold up. You are more than likely perfectly aware of the recent fluctuations in energy levels at some areas, mainly at what is-was the Institute. I do not know whether it is possible to access your memory and how far it reaches, but remember the readings from twenty years ago, I am- Insignificant virus, you will now perish! this time a rather large series of codes is sent his way, but he is prepared, having picked up the information from the first string sent his way. The codes dissolve, and the presence dies off with them. Chris retracts himself from the net, wondering. A spin-off? An antibody? When do I learn to create these without fracturing my own awareness?

"I am facing...duplicity problems...I am all over the networks, or, better said, the representation of what could possibly become my future personality is all over the networks..." he says, realizing that he is back on the floor, clutching his head.

[Toni Craft]

[[Semi-emo Toni alert! Read at your own risk!]]


Clones actually sounded like a great idea, especially if you were trying to use them against the enemy. Toni remembers that Terminator series from way back when (who knew that they’d actually be kind of foreboding) and recalls the T-2’s use of shape shifting to infiltrate itty-bitty John’s house and pose as his foster parents. Naturally, both parents suffered rather gruesome deaths at the hands of the liquid metal menace.

Now Toni was pretty sure this particular batch of clones wasn’t made of metal, but the idea was still the same. SHIELD clones would pose as current and dead Brotherhood members, gain access to the rebel headquarters, and when the guards were down, stab them all in the backs. It made absolute perfect sense.

But the memories were a little odd, as were the spot-on personalities. Josh was, well, Josh. And Toni’s younger self was as erratic and bizarre as she remembered being. There was no way SHIELD had developed that sort of memory and personality insertion, short of having a telepath do it. But then they’d need scans of the many brains of the originals, some of whom had been dead for over twelve years. No way they’d have stock piled that many just for this particular purpose. Unless that particular telepath had been at the Institute, scanned them all back in 2007, and retained the copies since then. It would explain why none of them recalled any of the events since then. And then at some signal, SHIELD would unlock their sleeper programming and they’d all turn into evil, mutant Terminators.

Toni shakes her head. There were too many variables to consider and too much paranoia to feed. It all seemed a little elaborate, but then again, maybe elaborate would work.

The appearance of Jack and Matthew still tugged at her, as well as the upset Josh who was busy squawking over Warren. Fortunately, Warren was level headed enough to at least attempt to ignore the younger version of his lover and make some strict rules and procedures. DNA tests would be the first thing done, and Toni’d take on that personally.

"I'd.. check your computer before you keep me in here." That voice makes her breath catch in her throat as she looks at him. Most of her wants to believe that there is no way that man could be an evil clone. She’d been without him for so many years, and although she’d wished every day that he would somehow come back, the thought never crossed her mind that he actually would.

"Oh, dear Lord. You’re going to lose it at sunset, aren’t you?" Thank god for that aforementioned level headed-ness. Without it Toni would already be engulfing her dead lover in a storm of disbelief-filled kisses. "OK. I’ll set up a restraining cell” Toni would overlook that as well. No one knew Jack’s ‘bad time of the month’ better than she did.

She watches as Josh snaps about the clone theory and storms out of the room. Toni knows right away that Warren wouldn’t be far behind, screw that logical portion of his brain.

Sure enough…"We should leave them to discuss the situation among themselves, I think... but it's up to you. Just remember - whatever they look like, whatever they think they are, they aren't your... they aren't Jack and Matthew. Don't do anything to endanger the team." Their names only remind her that the two men are standing just a few feet away. Slowly, Toni nods, but unlike Warren, she can’t conjure up the courage to leave the room. What if she left and came back and they were gone? What if this was all just a tortuous dream? What if she missed the last chance to see her brother and her beloved?

So she stays but moves to a corner, silently finding a seat on the ground. From her spot against the wall, she’s free to watch the possible clones. She watches the way they interact and talk and move and scratch their heads. She absorbs everything and compares it to her memories left over from those better times.

While she’s busy evaluating whether or not they were legitimates or clones, a second part of her prays with every ounce of her soul that they are real and pure and honest and more importantly, the people she lost all those years ago.

[Jack Russell]

Oh, dear Lord. You’re going to lose it at sunset, aren’t you?

Jack actually cocks an eyebrow at Warren's cool response, feeling as though he's not being taken seriously. They still think we're frauds he reminds himself, although he knows for a fact he's not a clone, and whether they believe him or not, trouble would still follow if he weren't safely locked away. Regardless, he chooses to keep his mouth shut, watching as the situation proves too much for Josh as he storms out, Warren closely in pursuit. Jack can't say he blames him--it has to be a little weird for a loved one to accuse you of being dead.

The tension heightens in the room, and Jack doesn't need his senses to tell him that. Near him, Bertrand gives off a sensation of being distressed, and he suddenly collapses. He isn't close enough to keep Christopher from hitting the floor, but Jack moves over despite that, concerned. He crouches and extends a hand,"Hey um.., you alright there?"

- - - - - - - - -

Stab.

Crap!

Hard, continuous punctures spasm along the telepathic link Elliot has open with one of the several arrivals she'd been inspecting. She retracts sharply and cuts the link, rubbing at her temple. The psyche had seemed a little weak at first, boy was she wrong. Strangely, the mental attack was very familiar--like Roger's--but even he knows better by now than to attack back. The confusing jumble of thoughts and mental activity still tells her that it could very well be Roger--just not one they know. They're all over the place. she concludes, and a supposed wave of really good clones is starting to become really doubtful in her mind.

Instinctively turning her focus to Warren, she only has to get one good peek at his brain to know that now is probably not the time to tell him they've got another one out there. Vanisher, we got another one. He's pretty close. Thing you can snag him?

- - - - - - - - -

I am facing...duplicity problems...I am all over the networks, or, better said, the representation of what could possibly become my future personality is all over the networks... The answer Jack recieves relieves him since Christopher appears to be unharmed, although it confuses him all the same, and for a few moments he tries to decipher the words. "...er.. is that bad?" Meekly, he shrugs, smiling a little and trying to lighten the mood. "I don't know much about technology.." Anyone within the walls of the institute had an idea about Jack and computers; they did not get along.

- - - - - - - - -

Holy fuck, Elliot! What the hell was that?! That guy just tried to rip my brains out!

Uh.. sorry. I guess he's not transportable then?

Fuck no!

Calm down, will ya? I'll see if I can get someone out there..

Elliot turns her focus from the grumbling Vanisher, probing a few seemingly inactive psyches. It doesn't take her long to find a willing volunteer. Zooming in on Toni, she opens the telepathic link.

Hey boss, we got a telepath out there. He's close, and Vanisher can't get a hold on him--he doesn't like having his mind tapped at all. Feels like Rog, but not really, sorta like the rest of them you're with. Alright to send Greg out there? I think he could handle this guy.

[Jack Russell]

(Collaberative effort with Toni! Yay us!)

Yeah, sure. But get Carter to go with him. I don't think we want any more surprises tonight.

Gotcha, boss. Elliot closes that link and picks up another one. Okay, Greggers. I gotta job for you. We got a telepath due north from here, but he's not happy about trying to be teleported. You and Ghazikhanian need to go out and investigate. I don't like the feeling he's giving me. Watch out though.. he's about as nasty as Roger gets on a bad day...

- - - - - - - - -

"Greg! Slow down, man!"

Crouched in the crook of tree limbs, he turns his head and looks down, watching as Carter finally catches up, panting. "Geez.. I'm not built for this crazy tree-hopping like you."

In reply, Greg untwines his body from the branches and jumps down, the ground giving a slight tremble as he lands. "We're close." he says, watching as Carter wipes the sweat from his brow. "You don't train much, do ya?"

"Yeah, well.. some of us didn't get the deluxe power set.." Greg rolls his eyes a little. "And we are close, Mr. Tarzan.. this guy's brain is going about ninety miles an hour. But I've got tabs on him.. so don't you worry about your pretty little head.. you just do what you do. Climb trees, eat birds, punch stuff.."

"...shut up." Greg mutters, turning and taking to the trees again with a single bound. In a flash of red hair, he's disappeared into the treetops.

"Aw, maaan.. I was just joking!"

- - - - - - - - -

Heart racing, throttling and shivering in his ears, he breathes in short murmurs, clutching to the twisted, gnarled root of a tree as everything around him appears to pulse with hostile life. The leaves, the grass, the trees, the rocks, everything has a mind, and there are too many of them, Roger can't protect himself from them all. Here becomes there, there becomes here. Where is he? Where is home? Where is nowhere? Is this nowhere or somewhere?

It pains him to move--to breathe--to think, and Roger's eyes dart from place to place, fearful that nature is subtly moving. Frustrated, he's mentally attacking them all one by one, but he can feel no response. They feel no pain. But he does, he feels everything. And it hurts him to open his mind as his muscles flex in concentration.. they're getting closer, but he can't tell where they're coming from. They're closer.. closer still..

- - - - - - - - -

Wait! Greg--don't get too close he'll--!

Greg gives a shout as his body goes rigid in shock, like both his legs and his arms have gone to sleep. Crashing from branch to branch, he tries to find proper surface, only to keep sliding down. He manages to get a glimpse of his attacker before he falls out of the tree, landing in a tangle of limbs at its base.

At least thirty or forty feet behind him, Carter makes a gagging noise. For that moment, Greg feels the feeling return to his limbs, and he rolls to his front and jumps to his feet, unharmed from his abrupt descent. He lurches forward, making it a dozen feet before it feels like his spine has broken in half. "Shit!"

I got him! I got him! Don't move! You're just pissing him off and scaring the hell out of-- The telepathic message ends with Carter mentally shouting obscenities as their attacker shifts his focus again.

Fuck! This is stupid! Greg scrabbles to his feet and bounds forward just as his miniscule opponent is getting to his feet, his eyes pink from being near tears. He can smell blood on the boy, and he finds himself staring face to face with Roger--just a kid. For a moment they stare at each other. Then searing pain erupts around his ribs, as though a direct connection has opened between them, feeling every breathe and every movement this younger version of Roger is making.

Hit him! Hit him, Greg! He's weak and puny!

Shut up! I know!

With a snarl and an enormous effort, Greg suddenly strikes the supposed Roger. He goes out like a light, hitting the ground faster than Greg can straighten.

Breathing deep and slow, Greg stares down at the unconscious telepath that looks almost pathetically vulnerable and small. "Sorry, Rog.. had to do it," he grumbles to himself, effortlessly plucking his now harmless foe from the ground with one hand.

Finally crashing through the bushes, Carter waves his arms. Now seeing that their attacker is now no longer able to attack, he relaxes, approaching Greg. "That's right, little man, not so tough now are ya? Huh, huh?" He points an accusing finger at Roger, quieting after Greg gives him a cold glare. "What?"

- - - - - - - - -

They got him, boss. But uh.. Greg says he most definitely smells like Roger--dunno what that's supposed to mean. But he also says that the guy's pretty banged up.. Vanisher's gonna hustle them outta there though.

[Christopher Bertrand]

Christopher stands up slowly, and his eyes land on Jack, an entity whom he had not really become acquainted with- the man was not interested in computers, and had those monthly problems, that was all the young cyberpath knew of him.

Still, the expression of concern is welcomed with an odd amount of warmth, as is any such directed at Chris, who is so used to just being generally left to his own tools. Still, he faces a problem as the other asks him whether his experience is bad.

>"...er.. is that bad? I don't know much about technology.."

"Yes, I am quite aware of tha-" Chris, one who is unusually slow at catching all the different moods and intentions people usually have in their speech, cuts himself off, realizing it was meant to lighten the mood, rather than state something rather obvious. Still, how does he explain the potential problems facing a sentry duplicate of what he seems to have become in the future might have to a man who can not manipulate a computer into simple programming?

"I, as a cyberpath, become a separate entity once I connect myself to the Internet. The Internet has a trait of allowing whatever is on it to duplicate itself if it runs itself through enough computers attached to it. Apparently, my future self has managed to copy itself all over the Internet and set up what I have intended on calling sentry duplicates once I managed to create them- an individual copy of myself, constantly present on the Internet and made to block out or defend itself against all other intrusions on my domain as a cyberpath- a protection against viruses as well as other cyberpaths. However, the problem that I had always encountered in trying to create them is that I still retain some amount of human personality- something I have found is very night impossible to copy." he pauses for a moment, looking at Jack to make sure the man is still with him.

"Finding sentry duplicates of my future self, to express myself in such terms, is worrying, since what I have seen made me certain that my future entity has actually lost all traces of a human personality, and has become just another computer on the Internet, so to speak, only with some amount of learning capability retained, I think." he says, raising an eyebrow at Jack, possibly eagerly awaiting a question about it. Christopher has always been one to gladly offer information, and do so in abundance, to the simplest of questions.

[Toni Craft]

[[Another brilliant collaboration with Jack/Roger!! (We are like the US/Canadian counterparts of each other. It's wierd.) ]]

Toni’s too busy gawking at her older self to notice the arrival of the tall, redheaded man right away. But with her super-keen hot man-detecting senses--mutant power or not, you decide--it doesn’t take long.

“Total hunk at 4 o’clock. Be back in a sec. With our without his shirt.” Toni announces, stepping away from Matthew and the others. “Hello there, my tall edible-y sweating young man. Let me take that little guy off your shoulders so you can do some completely out of place biceps flexes for me.” All she receives in return is a horrified stare.

“Mom? Why are you…” Greg’s sense of logic kicks back in as he realizes that he’s carrying a younger version of Roger, so a younger version of his mother wouldn’t be too far fetched. But to have her hitting on him?

“Wow, getting into the kinky spirit already. Does that mean I get to call you Dad?” Greg takes a step back and shakes his head slowly.

“When he said Mom, he actually meant Mom.” The older Toni says with a roll of her eyes. She should have seen that coming. Her younger self would have no idea who Greg was, and being who she was, would hit on him in a flash. The unverified-clone’s face falls as she looks back up at Greg.

“I have a kid in the future?! What man in his rightful mind would subject himself to--of all things--sex with me?!” She pales swiftly. “I just totally tried to flirt with my own kid. That’s just wrong…” Toni shudders with a look of the purest disgust. “And believe me, I know wrong.” She steps away from her future son. “I’m going to go curl into the fetal position in a corner now.”

Greg, unsure how to handle the awkward situation, just stares blankly at the younger version of his mother as she walks away. “Uh...Uncle Matt?” This was really becoming just too much.

Matthew stares at the man and blinks. “No way, man. Nuh uh. I’m not buying into this at all. Any second now I’m going to wake up and there isn’t going to be two Toni’s and I’m not going to be an uncle. And then I’m going to get up, have a shower, and forget this whole thing while I eat breakfast.” He promptly puts his hands over his ears and places his forehead against the wall, furiously trying to wake up.

His focus shifting abruptly, Greg finds himself staring face-to-face with Jack, such an intense past in the eyes that he could never mistake. “You!” he accuses sharply, the tension obvious in his shoulders as he hoists the limp Roger over them. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” The logical explanation of his father’s death doesn’t occur to him, that his father would have looked older. Toni looks stands up from her corner of the room and stalks over to her son.

“Greg!” She snaps, giving him a sharp, motherly glare. She crosses her arms and raises her voice again. “Greg! Stop it. This isn’t the time for this.” Her stance as his mother and direct superior is forgotten in his moment of anger and her voice is drowned out by the blood pumping in his ears.

Just then, Carter barges in behind Greg, waving a set of papers. “Hey, Greg, lookit this thingy I—woooah. Holy crap.” His eyes meander over the group of people assembled in the room,”Uh.. is this some kinda freakazoid party here? ‘coz I’m totally unpre—“

“Take him!” Greg snarls, suddenly shoving Roger roughly at Carter, who has a hard time holding him and nearly drops the redheaded teenager in the process.

Whipping about, Greg growls low in his throat, glaring harshly at Jack who remains unflinching beneath his gaze. “The hell is wrong with you?!” The volume of Greg’s voice despite Toni’s protests continues to rise. “Losing your mind and then showing up like it’s no big deal!”

“That’s enough!” Toni yells, stepping between Jack and Greg but keeping her eyes firmly planted on her son. “This isn’t—” Is she really about to say it? “This isn’t Jack. Not the one we knew, anyways.”

[Primer]

[[Playing fast and loose with the time line, tell me if there's issues. This takes place just after Vanisher teleported in to "you build some you break some" and rescued Primer and future!Danny ]]

"Hey, much as I hate to interrupt this episode of Greg Has Two Mommies you guys might want to check out these new additions to today's fucked up fun."

Vanisher's voice sounds far away to Primer as he stands, stunned, in this new room. "No." he whispers, unheeding of the spectacle before him, "This can't be possible...this can't be..." he lowers his face and stares down at his hands as if they will hold the key to deciphering the all-too-familiar feeling creeping through him.

In the space his quiet has left Vanisher barrels on- "While you guys were scratching your asses back here I just popped back to the Institute and you will not believe the shit that is going on there. Drake was down there along with these two and a younger version of Rahne, you remember her? Wolf girl? Got taken to the camps a few years back? Oh, and some little blonde thing-"

"Laurie." Primer breaks in automatically, not even fully realizing that he's spoken, wrapped up in his own denial and horror because he's concentrating, he's building up one emotion after another with a concentration he hasn't needed in years and nothing is happening and this strange man, so much like the Vanisher he'd left mere hours ago, is still jabbering on like a fool. "Right, whatever, well she and the clone or whatever of Rahne got themselves hauled off to the camps. Maybe Drake can figure this shit out." He pauses and snickers, "Though I sure as hell wouldn't want to be his guinea pigs."

Primer continues to ignore the entire situation, clenching his fists and closing his eyes, unable even to articulate the possibility of what's happened to himself yet, even in thought.

[Tempero]

Daniel, not the shy individual that all of these newcomers remember, has been almost as fast as Vanisher on getting a grasp of what all is going on, and so it is no wonder that he grabbed onto the boy just as he teleported out of the way of the sentinels.

And now, once he is within a new area, his vision simply explodes with a ton of different colors, one of the reasons why he absolutely hates all forms of instant travel. It is much similar to a sort of kaleidoscopic doom for him, and so he closes his eyes for a while, trying to calm the migraine down.

Finally, when he opens his eyes, he decides to ignore those present, becoming painfully aware of just where he is, and instead looks at Primer. There is his typical signature...but it's constricted, as if a ban was put on it. It seems he got sprayed with the cure. he reaches the conclusion immediately, having seen this kind of thing happen. For an odd reason, he has always had the luck of never coming in contact with the horrible substance.

"It's gone, Primer." he states simply, but neglects to inform the man that this cure is not the same as the cure from way back when.

He looks around, and finally realizes that his own mutation is not acting up- he really is seeing all of these characters doubled. Toni is the most prominent one- the exact same mutation, down to the millimeter, but most of the others seem to have a certain highly familiar property to them, as if something he might have seen a long time ago. Clones? Time travel? Something else? I wonder which one it is...

[Jack Russell]

Jack stands as Greg starts to shout at him, a line creasing his brow. "Woah, um.. hold on--what are you talking about?"

The hard line of the boy's jaw strengthens in response and for a moment he appears as though he's going to step forward and attack him. He clenches his hands in response, a low, frustrated noise starting in his chest, although he does nothing from the orders of his mother. Behind him, Roger stirs in Carter's arms, murmuring a choked whimper. Greg snorts, staring at Jack for a few moments longer, challenging him with his stance. They continue to do so until Carter clears his throat.

”Hey, Greg.. c'mon, man, we need to get this guy down the med bay before he starts freaking out on us again--we can figure this out later.“ Carter approaches the changed subject gently, knowing good and well what his comrade is capable of. He'd seen him pick guys up by the back of their neck like they weighed nothing at all and throw them a good twenty feet.

A growl is Carter's first response as Greg gives Jack a sharp glare. “Fine,” he mutters, stepping aside and squaring his shoulders. He takes up the redhead uncomfortably draped across Carter's arms and stalks out, his brow furrowed and brooding. Carter follows after, looking at Toni apologetically over his shoulder while the two disappear around a corner.

"..what the hell was he talking about?" Jack questions, shooting younger Toni a hasty glance and then realizing where he is and shifting his focus to the older version of Fortress. The silence is uninterrupted until a voice sounds from an unknown origin.

Hey, much as I hate to interrupt this episode of Greg Has Two Mommies you guys might want to check out these new additions to today's fucked up fun. Jack twitches as Primer suddenly appears in the room, looking shocked moreover at some inward conflict than with the fact that he's in a strange new environment. He listens as the unknown to him of the two explains what's going on somewhere else, apparently something that involved Bobby, Laurie, and the Brotherhood's resident shapeshifter. Next thing he knows, an older Danny has appeared, and by the looks of it, things are not friendly between him and Primer.

"Shit..," Jack exclaims to himself, becoming more and more confused by each passing second.

[Matthew Craft]

Come on, man. Wake up. Matthew, with his hands planted firmly over his ears and humming a tune rather loudly, bumps his head against he wall in an attempt to stir himself from his sleep.

Maybe he’d been knocked unconscious during the fight at the Institute. That made sense, though it would be a little embarrassing. As far as he could remember, he had only just hightailed it into the chaotic room when he’s been subjected to an intense nauseas sensation and wound up in the dark. Somebody must have whacked him in the head and knocked him out the moment he stepped into the room. Sure…that would’ve worked. And then all this is just a dream. He hits his head against the wall again. Now I just have to wake up.

If this was a dream—which Matthew is sure it is—then it’s definitely the most bizarre one he’s had lately. Two Tonis? But to add that one of them looked a fair bit older, And more like Mom too?!, and that was just a little disturbing. And then one of the other strangers called him uncle? Who the hell in their right mind would be willing to put up with Toni long enough to make a kid? And why didn’t I kill him a long time ago?

"Hey, much as I hate to interrupt this episode of Greg Has Two Mommies you guys might want to check out these new additions to today's fucked up fun." A brief pause in Matthew’s humming allows him to hear the strange voice through his hands. Cracking an eye open, he glances back, still cursing the fact that he hasn’t yet woken up. He realizes rather suddenly that he’s only standing a few feet away from the one man Laurie’s been petrified of for, like, ever. Primer also just happens to be the same guy that was busy busting up the Institute when Matthew came running in, only to get knocked unconscious and thrown into this weird dream world.

There’s some more being said, so Matthew peels his hands from his ears and listens. “Drake was down there along with these two and a younger version of Rahne, you remember her? Wolf girl? Got taken to the camps a few years back? Oh, and some little blonde thing-"

“Laurie.”[/b] He feels a bit of a jolt at the mention of his girlfriend’s name and he looks—perhaps a little bit more worriedly—between Primer and the foul-mouthed stranger.

"Right, whatever, well she and the clone or whatever of Rahne got themselves hauled off to the camps. Maybe Drake can figure this shit out. Though I sure as hell wouldn't want to be his guinea pigs." Laurie? Her dad? Bobby? Taken to camps to be guinea pigs?!

A little less concerned that this may be a dream and a touch more concerned that his girlfriend may about to become a lab rat, Matthew turns to the still-unnamed man. “What do you mean ‘camps’ and ‘guinea pigs’?” He asks warily then turns to Primer, a tad angry. “And how come you’re here? Why did you take Laurie?”

Please, please, pretty please wake up now?

[Primer]

“What do you mean ‘camps’ and ‘guinea pigs’?”

Vanisher gets a decidedly nervous look on his face. While the younger Craft, at least when he'd known him, had been much more easy-going than Fortress you didn't rile up seven feet of nuclear energy without a damn good reason and in the old days there'd been no faster track to Warhead's seldom-seen emotional side than bringing up this 'Laurie' girl.

"Uh," he says backing away, "I gotta go. People to see, things to teleport. I'm sure Fortress will fill you in...eh boss?" and before anyone has time to so much as blink he's gone in a small displacement of air.

Primer meanwhile has ignored Matthew completely in favor of jerking quickly towards this man who claims that his mutation is gone. "And just who are you anyway?" he asks, voice quiet and strained, more uncontrolled and therefore more dangerous than he's had occasion to be in a very long time. It's as if his mutation had worked itself not just into his genetic code but into every fissure and pore and empty space in his body. Between bones and cartilage and in the space between heartbeats. Now, without it, he feels like he's being pulled apart, like his eyes could point in two different directions, his fists strike at a hundred targets, his feet take him two different places, all uncontrolled and uncoordinated and rage and desperation until he's torn himself all to bits. This cannot happen. I will not let this happen.