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June 30th | A Journal Entry - Hero’s Tale Prompt Response

Tagging: Lumen | mentions of others Location: Lumen’s Brownstone Time Frame: Written late evening, June 30th General Notes: Lu ponders a question posed by Alec.

#axprompt #a journal entry #solo post #solo para #lumen blake #alec han

I (Almost) Sunk Your Fishing Boat

Tagging: Lumen Blake, Captain Marcus Winslow, Crew of the Marauder’s Rest Location: Off the coast of New York, aboard the Island Current and the Marauder’s Rest Timeframe: June 22nd, 2016, approximately 7am to about 3:50pm. General Notes: The crew of the Marauder’s Rest runs afoul a rare phenomenon, and Lumen’s in a position to save them. Apparently a novella.

It was too early for this Lumen decided, dismounting her bike and tucking the keys into her pocket. The harbour smelled awful, fish, metal, trash aromas lingering heavily, and the noise was just as bad, but it would be over soon. All she needed to do was check in, find the captain for the Island Current, and she would be on her way. How long had it been since the blonde had been out to sea? Years, going by how fuzzy it all felt, and even then she hadn’t had the opportunity to practice with anything stronger than the shore currents. The Island Current was a 42 foot charter boat, typically used for small parties or fishing trips. Under a normal circumstance, she would only have had the morning in one of their half-day trips, but Alec had coughed up a bit more money to give her the day. As long as they were back by evening, it would be fine, and the weather seemed like it would be reasonable at least for part of that time. Her captain, Marcus Winslow, was confident in this as he continued with the departure procedures. “Not often I get one person out on a day trip to the middle of nowhere,” the man mused, peeking up at the wandering woman as she examined his ship. “I would expect not.” Too early for talking. “You’re not up to anythin’ illegal are you?” “I just wanted some peace, away from the city,” Lumen responded tersely. “Most people like yourself go to spas for that, or camping-” “Most people aren’t like myself. You’ll see when we’re out far enough if you’re so damn curious.” He arched a greyed brow before turning back to his paperwork. Something about the sleepy, but steely look he was receiving wasn’t to be reckoned with. Don’t bother a person before their coffee kicks in, the blonde found herself thinking. At least the deck was clear, and the ship itself was up to current maritime regulation and seemed in good shape. None of the sounds she could distinguish as relative to the Island Current appeared out of whack. Running her hand along the rail, she gazed out over the harbour. “She’ll do.”

The wind in her hair, coupled with the mist of breaking waves, did wonders for turning her hair into a bird’s nest. She should’ve braided it, or at least pulled it back, but there wasn’t any point in trying to fight with it now. Another fifteen minutes and they could drop anchor. The binoculars in her hand told her that no one was in visual range at the moment. Satisfactory. She nestled herself into the empty space on the deck, crossing her legs and positioning her hands at the intersection, palms up and fingers overlaying one another. Lumen opened herself to the world below her, the water beneath the boat, passing through the props, to the fish and other creatures lurking dozens of feet down. It felt like hours were spent merely embracing the power of the currents and the waves, understanding them, knowing them in a way only she probably could. Every ebb and flow, every touch of a new wave against the hull. Captain Marcus, certainly, was bored well out of his mind. All the strange blonde did was sit. No looking out, no questions, no comments. The book in one of the bulkhead storage units was looking awfully appealing, at least until tendrils of water, seemingly of their own accord, crept over the port and starboard edges, drawing themselves to his passenger. It was a long moment before the confusion passed. “You’re one’a them mutants..” “An apt observation, yes.” He damn near fell out of his seat, flailing briefly to regain balance and composure both. A ruckus that rang loudly in Lu’s ears. A distraction. Perhaps he required a better explanation. At the very least it might put him at ease. “I’m not out here to hurt you, or anyone else for that matter. This is a personal exercise,” she said with a drifting open of eyes. Streams of water had braided themselves into a hoop of sorts as she stood, calling them to herself. “It was the most convenient method of gaining familiarity with this kind of force. The open sea is dangerous, and while this isn’t exactly open, it is a fair representation of what is out there. I want to better understand so that I may have better control.” And to perhaps expand her skills, explore things she hadn’t otherwise been able to attempt. Marcus, of course, didn’t have the complete capability to understand, but explained that as long as he and his ship were fine, he’d be all right with her doing as she pleased. This was enough for the young woman, and she proceeded through a normal hour of training, paying nominal mind to the sun bearing down overhead. Shapes, state changes, creating basic funnels, pillars, platforms, objects.. A gift of creation, an exploration of thought through her creation and movement. Perhaps it was fascinating to watch, but that wasn’t important. What was important was the contention with the raw power beneath her, the coercion of her native element to her will. Strength of mind and determination. To express the pent up energy, the desperate need to do better, to improve.. But it wasn’t enough. That energy was boundless, cycling throughout every nanometer of her being. It was enough to force Lu to stop, to breathe and come down from the unique high on several occasions. It was during one such break that the radio crackled to life with something other than the standard mundane transmissions that had been heard throughout the day. A unique presence had come across her own radar a good distance away, but with such power behind it that she had felt the shift in the currents just briefly. Coupled with the “Mayday, mayday. . .” now registering to her hearing, there was a series of splashes as she stopped everything she was doing, the pilot hopping to at roughly the same time. “We’ve been hit- taking on water-” The transmission repeated again, registering to her more clearly the second time despite the garbling static. “Rogue wave,” they said in unison. Rogue waves were dangerous, and incredibly rare. Defined as abnormally large waves for the general conditions, they could strike whenever they chose, and topple even some of the biggest ships. A raw, unbridled force of the sea to generally not be reckoned with. Marcus was starting to wonder if it was time to turn the boat to home, and it was close to three in the afternoon anyhow, but the sudden look of fire in that strange woman’s face made him stop. “What’re you thinkin’, kid?” “You sound like my brother.” Whether that was good or bad didn’t matter, she wasn’t going to explain, and he didn’t want to know. “You aren’t obligated by anything to help them. You can leave it for the Coast Guard if you want. But I have to,” words of conviction from someone too young. “What?” He thought she was out of her mind. Of course he did. Maybe she was. But that wouldn’t deny her the strange feeling of strength, the compulsion of “I must because I am capable.” ‘Do great things, kiddo.’ Travis had said that once. What had she done thus far? Fight a teleporter. Stop a house fire. Work as a bouncer to protect others. Because she was capable. Because it satisfied that need, the expectation of doing great things. “I am capable of helping them. Doesn’t that make me obligated to do so?” “Isn’t that why the X-Men do what they do? Or the Avengers? Or, hell, Batman in his comics and shit. They’re capable. They have the means. It drives them. Doesn’t that make me, too, obligated to help? Because I am capable as they are?” She paced now, hands tapping, mind thinking. “They’ve got planes, motorcycles, money-” “I’ve got you, and the Island Current. It’s enough. I can point you in their direction even without the coordinates, I think. I can get us close enough, Captain.” Don’t make me beg, she thought. They needed help. “Please.” It would be reckless. Dangerous. It was still a job that needed to be done. Jobs had occupational hazards.

A bewildered, dripping pair of crewmen greeted the strange woman, unsure of what to make of her presence. They had better things to be doing, and may not have noticed her at all if not for their Captain sending them up to fetch the roll of hose hoisted tiredly between them. “The hell are you doing? Never mind how-” Another woman shouted up from below deck, hoarse and evidently angry, words indiscernible from the sounds of the water and shuddering parts of the ship.. Whoever she was, she was intimidating, going by the look mild fear that passed between the two men, prompting them to shuffle uncomfortably. “I’m a Mutant. Heard your distress call aboard the Island Current, who’s about a mile and some off your aft by now. I think I can help. Where’s your captain?” Everything she thought they needed to know, and straight to the point. Whether or not it was enough wasn’t the concern. The pair of men looked between themselves briefly, questioning the possibility and absurdity of Lumen’s words. “X-Man? Never seen you before.” She sighed, shaking her head, damp curls shifting slowly. “No. No affiliation to anyone. Do you want to lose your damn boat or can I talk to your captain?” she continued, arms folding over her middle, foot tapping the floor anxiously. The groaning beneath her feet was getting worse, and the acrid smell of burning sea water from damaged engines was notably unpleasant. Never mind the smell of fish in general. What choice did they have? What if she was being genuine? They could accept her offer, chance having a job or their lives later, or they could turn her away and send her back to, well, wherever she came from, and risk losing it all. The ship keeled over further, and equipment began sliding across the upper deck. It was difficult to not slide along with it. There wasn’t any more time to argue. “This way,” the taller man finally conceded, trying desperately to not send themselves tumbling while leading with the roll of hose. The woman shouting from before was undeniably the Captain. Her mess of hair was pulled back, and she was as soaked to the bone as anyone else on that boat. The grease streaked over her hands and face looked more like war paint, but even with the strength she tried to show, there was still a subtle hint of panic in the way she swore, shuffling through the rising water trying to do what she could to get some sort of emergency pumping system working. “Tank’s too flooded--who the hell is this? And give me that goddamn hose!” Lumen stepped out of the way, not wanting to risk being jumped on or climbed over as the two crewmen complied, the woman climbing on top of the contraption to begin screwing in and securing the tube. They were too busy working to pay much attention to the stranger. “Look, Captain- or at least I think you’re the Captain-” “I don’t care what you’re here for, but you’d damn well better make yourself useful. Get up there and shut off that fuel valve, we’re gonna plug this line in an’-” She was going to try and reroute fuel from the ship’s tanks to the water pump. It’d take too long. “No. Listen to me! I can help you better than this thing can,” Lumen started, approaching the now rather angry woman. “This is like trying to empty your ship with a fucking bucket. I didn’t ask the captain of the Sea Current to bring me all the way over here to slow down your problem,” she then spat, not consciously observing the way the seawater around her seemed to be repelled, climbing away and upward. The shorter man struggling to unroll the hose back up the steps finally stopped fighting the task, speaking up. “She told us she was a mutant, Ros. I’m thinkin’-” “Do your damn job! We gotta get this thing right or we’re all fucked-” Enough was enough. “Listen to me!” All at once, the small space they had crammed themselves into was devoid of liquid, the mass forming a veritable wall behind the blonde as she sought to command attention. “I’m a hydrokinetic--a mutant. I should be able to get you afloat if you will just let me try to help! I get it, you’re scared, but there’s no reason for us to keep going ‘round in fucking circles when I can fix this right now!” There were no more mechanical options aside from trying to launch the last two life rafts, which were stuck in their holdings from poor maintenance and the severe starboard incline. The middle-aged Captain finally dredged herself up from the urgent fear that drove her. Whoever this kid was, she was serious, and the only real chance she had of getting her ship back. The pump she was sitting on wasn’t going to work even if the hose was laid out. There was water in the fuel tank, and the motor was too submerged, what with the crack in the shell that was never repaired. She couldn’t even save her own ship, and in defeat, she hung her head. “Do what you have to,” Ros started, beginning to untangle herself from the machinery and climb down. “But if you fail, I will find you in hell and drown you myself. I have a crew of 15 on this ship still, and if all went well out there, there’s another 17 on the rafts. I can’t afford to fail them or their families. Paul, Shorty, get your asses to the engines. Do what you gotta to get this bitch of a boat running.” They must’ve been related, given the brief glimmer of hope that was nearly identical between the two men. “Yes ma’am!” There was an exhale of relief as Lumen jutted her chin confidently. “Where’s your leak?” Still brandishing a wrench, Captain Ros passed beyond the lowered wall of water and began wading through the now waist-deep water down a corridor, the sound of the rushing sea thundering more and more loudly the closer they got. “Outer hull cracked in the torsion from a rogue wave, the pressure was too much for the inner hull once water started coming in. No payload to support it, so it caved.” Structural integrity would be weakened, and there were two different points of entry. It would be a lot more energy than anticipated, but the hydrokinetic had to try. “I’ll do what I can. Get your systems working.” Due to the sheer force of the invading seawater, she wasn’t able to proceed much past the entryway of what evidently had been the galley at one point. It was horrifically loud and incredibly hard to focus, but after bracing herself against the current, the blonde began to mentally drift. In, and out, ebb, and flow, inhale, exhale. Push. Reset. Push. Reset. Her kinetic command, coupled with the constant pushing motion of her body forced the fluid to comply, stopping its assault and returning back the way it came through the breach in both hulls. Minutes ticked by as she began to realize just how much the Marauder’s Rest had taken on. The exhaustion was becoming very real the more she pressed on, but she was sure she almost had it, as it took effort to actively lift the remaining gallons as well as guide it out. What had been a flood became small rivers. An ocean in a boat became mere puddles. Once floating objects rested in collective piles or atop unsteady surfaces, occasionally tumbling and resulting in a much different cacophony. The damage was extensive, and the ship was probably done for, but if she could hold the water out, she could get them close enough to the harbour to get the boat, the Captain, and her crew home. “I’m gonna try to freeze the break,” she managed between heavy breaths, hands outstretched to brace against the pressure of the ocean. Sea ice was difficult and uncooperative. Salt and the run of the mill ocean particulate made it difficult to align the molecules into a stable form. There wasn’t anyone to listen to her, however, as everyone had gone to try to get the propulsion systems running. They’d be golden if they could. Lumen was so tired already. But any rest in her vigilance and the problem would start all over again, and it wouldn’t be worth anything. They were banking on her to do her job. Try. You must because you are capable. Remember the sea outside. Where was that strength now? Try. A picture formed in her mind of what the ship had looked like from outside, how tall it was, how wide. Tired, grey eyes drifted closed as she visualised this form in ice, looking beyond the world outside, past the water, and the particulate. It was too much, too chaotic, and her guard almost fell. Try. Remember icebergs. How do they float? Make this ship an iceberg. Create. Try. Starting small, she realized, would be her best bet. Starting with the breach itself, ice crystals formed, crackling into a rough formation, expanding, pressing against the outer hull. The ship was too big, she knew then, but she couldn’t give up now. Her body rotated so that her arms were stretched to either side, concentrating her kinetic energy to the opposite sides of the ship. Pillars of ice began to emerge at surface level from the ship, stretching outward and forming a broad platform, the solidified water drifting downward to support the damaged section of hull and forming balances on the other side, simultaneously sealing the breach with a solid two feet of ice. Sleep was becoming more and more appealing. Relief from the pain in her skull and the tiredness in her limbs. Lumen’s focus was drifting, and it was proving difficult to hold the structure in her mind. The outside world kept creeping in. If she could just stabilize it further, make it stronger somehow- A rumble rolled through the lower deck as the engines surged to life, and there was a funny distraction, a whirling sensation passing over her skin as the propulsion system kicked on. Someone was shouting. Several someones. Was the Coast Guard outside? She tried to breathe through her nose to steady herself and choked. Steely orbs opened, widening as she wiped her upper lip. There was a lot more blood there than usual. Her gaze followed the trail past her hand, down the front of her sopping wet shirt, noting the unfortunate discolouration of blood and just how much there seemed to be, and the swirling darkness on the floor.

#sunk your battle ship para #solo post #solo para #lumen blake #para #long warning

Tagging: Lumen Blake Location: C:/Beast-Files/J-Shit/Fuck-Off Timeframe: May 17th, 2016 General Notes: A Journal Entry. Possible feels warning. Response to the Father’s Day prompt

The Father’s Day advertisements are driving me up the fucking wall. Family holidays are absurd. Marketing techniques. Ways to glorify roles that should be filled regardless of whether there is celebration. Good parenting is duty. Not something one should demand a fucking reward for. I don’t have a father. I don’t want one. I’ve never had one. I’ve had abusers. They don’t deserve jack fucking shit except a shallow grave after a beautifully long, painful death. I have brothers, sisters, friends. I don’t need this bullshit. I don’t need a fucking excuse to celebrate their existence or the fact that they chose me as much as I chose them. I should celebrate them because I want to. Not because I’m obligated by some arbitrarily decided day because someone thought “We could make a lot of money off of this.” Fuck that. Fuck all of that.

It’s so ridiculously absurd. I don’t understand.

#axprompt #lumen blake #a journal entry #solo post

I’m Not Twelve | A Short Solo Post

Tagging: Lumen Blake, Alec Han Location: Lumen’s Brownstone, East Village Time Frame: 09 June 2016, Midnight General Notes: Lumen’s indecision on what to wear for Cole and Pietro’s wedding has resulted in an.. interesting confrontation between the two friends.

A handful of previously worn party-suitable dresses hung from various points in her bedroom, feet shuffling against the carpet as she paced from one to the next. The colours on the invitation to the Wedding had been gold and black, colours of wealth, money, gambling.. From what she could gather, this would be a fairly rich event to attend, and while most of her dresses suited, the darker blues didn’t seem to suit, and Alec had protested notably against the red dress. He’d left mildly frustrated, but with the familiar sound of all the right locks clicking open, the blonde knew he’d returned. Hardly two minutes later he appeared with two dress bags draped over one arm, and found a spot to hang them. “I’ve been permitted to borrow these for a bit,” the hesitation prompting Lumen to raise a brow. “If these have been stolen, I’m not-” “We’re not going to debate this. Just let me show you-” “Alec. I don’t want to wear stolen goods.” “Isn’t that what you’ve largely been wearing?” he quipped, an unamused brow cocked at her hypocrisy. “Ass.” He was right. Most of her wardrobe upon arrival in New York City had been stolen, and his argument was thus fair. “You can wear this,” Alec continued, turning to unzip the first bag, “I’ll pick it up Saturday, and you won’t have to worry about it from there.” It was a nice piece, suitable for summer with the white base fabric, and also calling to the invitation with the geometric gold lines. Infinitely more suitable than anything else she had, and it wasn’t overly absurd. Except he stole it. “Or this other fun number. Personally I like this one more,” the man chuckled. There was another zipping sound and Lumen was then quite certain he was trying to make her eyes bleed. “What the fuck, Alec?” He laughed then, tugging at the pink fabric and the bow. “I’m not twelve. I don’t need help dressing,” she continued, “and I’m sure as Satan’s asshole not wearing pink.” “In most comical depictions, I’m sure his asshole is red, but sure.” The blonde groaned, and Alec zipped the dress bag up once again, slipping over to ruffle her hair. “You’re still easily infuriated. It’s great!” “Get that damn thing out of here before it starts breeding.”

#i'm not twelve para #solo post #solo para #lumen blake #alec han #in relation to the quick change wedding

Complacency | A solo post

Tagging: Lumen Blake, mentions of Alec Han and Travis Blake Location: East Village area, New York City Time Frame: 4:15pm, June 4th General Notes: As nice as it is to be settled, a fighter is wont to fight.

#lumen blake #travis blake #solo post #solo para #para #complacency para

Ring Me Up, Scotty | Solo Post

Tagging: Lumen Blake & Izzy Lupei Location: Lumen’s Brownstone, Xavier’s School respectively Timeframe: May 18th, 2016 General Notes: Lu decides it’s time to check in on Izabela after receiving a grade report.

#axrpg para #para #solo post #solo para #lumen blake #izabela lupei #ring me up scotty para #05182016

Fuck. | A Text Convo

Alec: Summer comes soon and it it a change in tides.

Lumen: Winds will lift and storms will come.

Alec: Your fucked if that shit goes through.

Lumen: Can we not do this right now?

Lumen: I already know this.

Alec: I am also fucking screwed if you register. This whole thing will hit the fucking blender like a tomato.

Lumen: I KNOW. I can supress it. Maybe. But... Xaviers records...

Lumen: Fuck.

Lumen: Was Izzy's shit legitimate?

Alec: Yes.

Lumen: Wasn't He some powerful influential guy?

Alec: I dont have his ear enough for that and hes busy always

Lumen: Try anyway.

Lumen: What choice do we have? Fall will come and cold will settle in for a long night's rest.

#text #lumen blake #alec han #solo post #text convo

Normal | A Solo Post

Tagging: Lumen Blake Location: Lumen’s Brownstone Timeframe: Roughly 4am, Friday, April 1st, 2016 General Notes: Normal can be under-appreciated, and overreacted to.