worlds collide.
@mecalledspeed
It was a run of the mill day. Cause some mayhem, bring attention to the stark inequality between humans and mutants, encourage an open dialogue about the situation while also punching Shaw in his dumb smug face. The usual for a Sunday morning.
And then Wiccan had said uh oh.
Speed had turned to him, eyes wide - uh oh was his word, uh oh was what you said when things were about to go completely pear shaped and Uncle Pietro wasn’t around to blame.
Uh oh had come at him in the form of a blast of blue light, searing pain, and an innate sense of displacement that he had only ever experienced the first handful of times he shifted his molecules through a wall. A sudden sense of wrongness, of not being where you were seconds before.
Thomas Magnus’ first lucid thought upon waking was a simple one. Mother is going to have a conniption fit. His head hurts and he’s pretty sure his suit is in tatters, but he checks all his limbs and finds only a cut from where his head hit the pavement. It’ll heal fast.
The skyline is unfamiliar. There are no sentinels in the sky. No banners declaring the House of M the rightful monarchy.
Uh oh indeed. Tommy’s run three circuits of the unfamiliar city, trying to find his way back to the palace -- but this isn’t Genosha. And when he finally stops to ask where he is and where in Doom’s name Genosha is, he only gets alarmed looks and people hurriedly walking away.
There are more humans than mutants.
He tugs the goggles off his face in the bathroom of some shop, strips down to his civvies and stuffs his suit in a plastic bag. He’s dressed way too nicely to blend in, and the more people stare at him, the more unnerved he feels.
There’s not a physical mutation in sight.
“Ohhh, William, Billybillybillybilly, what the hell did you do. If there was ever a time for this telepathic twin bond to work it’d be now!”
