digthefuzz:

Midnight wasn't sure what happened to his handlers. Normally they would be following him, foolishly believed he wasn't aware of them. He'd learned to keep a very close eye on the men and women that had taken him. Fifteen years ago he'd been snatched right from the airport by the men pretending to work for the government. He'd been taken to a facility where every question, disobeyed order, or sign of weakness got him pain. They trained and drilled him relentlessly, making sure he could flip, run, steal, sneak, climb, and fight. And when his abilities over DarkForce appeared, he'd been trained in those as well. They wanted a fighter. A killer. They got Midnight, a young man that had been sent to do many thing. Stealing valuable items and information, kidnapping, and even murder. And through it all, he was used to having two or more handlers that would follow him. They would never help. Only chase him down if he strayed from the mission, collect payment from whoever had bought his services, and drug him before dragging him back to the dark room he was left in when not being drilled or on an assignment.

But today there were no signs of them. No vans, no people that kept showing up no matter where he went, nothing. The whole assignment was an odd one to begin with. Go to some hotel in Upstate New York and wait for further orders to arrive. He didn't question it though, not wanting a beating. Orders were waiting for him when he woke up, resting on his nightstand. The fact that someone had slipped in and got so close to him without waking him up unnerved Midnight but he followed his orders anyway.

And now he's sneaking into the Xavier Institute. The orders had detailed how to get in without setting off the external alarms but he was on his own once inside. Dressed in that tight black uniform that covered everything but his tail and oddly shaped hands and feet, he slipped into a window that had been left open and ended up in a recreation room. Unaware of any internal alarms or telepaths that would detect his intruding, Midnight slowly began to search out the people he was supposed to attack.

brit_sorcerer:

Quinn had been a couch slug since the World Cup started. He slept, ate and breathed football since the opening game. It was only his favorite sport and he watched it whenever he could. He remembered his father taking him to Manchester United games for as long as he could remember. It was one of the few father/son bonding times he had with his dad.

Today he was in his boxers and stretched out on the couch. He had a six pack of beer, a plate full of fish and chips and a bag of crisps. He was set for the game.

Now to sit back and watch Greece play Argentina.

lytaworthington:

Bendytimed to the night before they found the kids.

There was a barren, war-torn field in the middle of New York City. Better known as what was left of Central Park.

The city belonged to Apocalypse. All those that stood in their way had been disposed of.

All around where the Dark Riders stood were signs of the destruction that had taken place. The bodies of those that stood in their way laid at their feet.

No one stood up to Apocalypse and lived to tell the tale.

Yet...something about this...it didn't seem right to the Dark Rider known as Lyta Braddock-Worthington.

The bodies. They were the bodies of friends. Family. She could recognize at least half of them...

She helped do this. SHE did. And she didn't even think to stop this...

No. She couldn't have done this...

But she did. The blood was on her hands.

No. No, no, no, NO.

In her bed, Lyta tossed and thrashed.