March 25th, 2007

Mojo-Nation!

Narrative -- I Smell A Plot Comming On

"The ratings are down, Mojo," came from an Asian man. He holding a black binder that contained charts and statistics for the Genoshan network, that Mojo’s realtiy mutant arena show aired on. "Saka-san, you worry too much," was the reply, that was made sickly from fatty jowls, "I have the perfect thing for those peons at home watching, my assistant is just putting the finishing touches on our pitch." Saka-San was a network executive in charge of meeting with all the television shows to help them build a budget according to what the board felt appropriate. Mojo sat back with a sigh of leather beneath his obese body. He rested in a custom built office chair; one with no arm rests so he would not feel the pressure of them holding him in. The room was almost glitzy, except for the lights; Mojo kept the room dimly lit because of his sensitivity. On the walls hung matted and framed stills from past shows, there were mutants and gladiators shot like cast photos and action shots of them battling in the arena. A large portrait of the current season’s star hung in isolation, in perverse homage, a pallid art light cast a soft aura around the frame.. It was a picture of a blonde boy, who had been seen in all the video clips that were circulating the internet. There was a small gold tag with the inscription "Longshot -- Season 2".

Mojo's assistant entered the room with a CD case in his hands. "Finally!" Mojo bellowed again blubbery cheeks dampened his words, "Put it in." The assistant did as he was instructed putting the disc into a computer that was set up off to the side; a projection screen slowly lowered. An image was brought into focus as Mojo narrated "Let me introduce to you, Saka-San, The Brootherhood of Evil Mutants," the image flipped "Eric Lensherr, Magneto, their leader, master of Magnetism." The room darkened as the image changed "Raven Darkholme, Mystique, metamorphe, terrorist and political activist. St. John Allerdyce, Pyro, pyro-kinetics, terrorist," the image flipped to a photo of John terrorizing a crowd of people at the F.O.H rally, flames shooting out from him. The image flipped to a again, “Rogue, terrorist, former affiliation X-Men. She can't touch someone without absorbing their memories or skills. Powers, in cases of other mutants. She has no other aliases and no record...” Again the imaged flashed, “Remy LeBeau aka Gambit. Refugee from hurricane Katrina. Affiliations: Theives Guild. Currently a member of Magneto’s Brotherhood. Demolitions expert.” He glanced down at his notes and rattled off Gambit’s Powers. "Frederick J Dukes, Blob and Mortimer Toynbee, Toad currently incarcerated in Rikers penitentiary for mutants."

With a clap of his fatty hands Mojo sat back into his chair. “On the other hand we have the X-Men, lead by one of the great visionaries of our time, Charles Xavier.” The picture lingered on the Professor for a time before flipping over to Cyclops. “Scott Summers…”

Mojo was interrupted. “I get it, Mojo-san, what’s your point?” Saka was irritated by the fat man’s long windedness.

A chuckle rolled over his fatty larynx. “It’s common knowledge that the Brotherhood and the X-Men are mortal enemies. I say the world needs to know which group have the right to call themselves homo-superior." The network executive shifted in his seat as Mojo finally stood. "Do you know what I'm planning, Saka-San? Ever since the beginning of time man has been obsessed with destroying other man. I'm talking a gladiator style competition. X-Men and The Brotherhood: survival of the fittest. Let the arena decide!” He said, emphasizing his words with a pound of his fist.

"Mojo, these are all United States Citizens," the larger man lifted a hand to silence Saka-San, "I assure you this is entirely legit." A paper was slid across the table, "it came in last week from the Unite States, secretary of defense. They want to utilize our services, discretely, however if you notice in the second paragraph 'by any means necessary'.”

Saka-san lifted his eye glasses and brought the paper close to his face. "Do what you need to do, Mojo." He nodded and turned to the image of Rogue holding onto a police officer's forearm, the skin beneath her hand wrinkling.

"Excellent, Saka-San, lets get lunch and talk about what kind of check the network is willing to write me."

(no subject)

Characters: Bobby and Rogue
Tagging: Wolverine, Gambit, Warren, Wanda, Pietro, Cyclops, Jean and Pyro
Those Going to Mojo: Bobby, Rogue, Gambit, Warren, Wanda, Wolverine and Pyro
Location: Underbelly of the Mansion
Description: Mojo acquires season three's stars! Kind of a log, kind of a narrative...reply here please!

"Hulk SMASH!"

The words echoed through the crowded streets of New York as the jade giant rampaged through parked cars, tossing them around like it was nothing. From behind a building, Iceman's sleek ice sled glistened in the midday sun as he peeled out into the fray. Bobby looked different than usual. He was decked out fully in his new X-Men uniform, which he had made alterations to. The leather pants and boots were normal, but the jacket was open revealing tight, chiseled ice abs. On his head he wore a red bandana, a remnant he found in his room. He couldn't recall if it was his or John's but he liked it anyway. Sunglasses rest on his nose, covered his iced eyes.

"Okay ugly," he said as he skidded to a halt, "playtime's over."

"Hulk smash puny snowman!" yelled the beast in rage as he kicked a taxi cab towards Iceman. It rolled across the blacktop, glass spraying through the air and the sound of scraping metal making Iceman flinch. A quick movement of his hands and the cab hung in the air, belly up on a glacier in a style befitting the Titanic.

"It's Iceman you small brained halfwit," he said as he took off on his sled. The Hulk was fast and unlike anything he had fought before. Throwing chunks of ice and snow wasn't going to cut it, and freezing him in a block of ice would take too much time. There was one last option though.

Quickly he brought the sled back around, flying right at the Hulk. The brute's giant forearms came up as he attempted to knock Bobby off the sled, but he had anticipated it. At the last second he leapt off the sled and landed behind the Hulk. He went to work lowering his internal temperature, making the air around him super cool. The Hulk seemed unaffected at first, but started to slow down as his body temperature dropped. "Chill out dude," said Iceman with a smirk as he continued to freeze the monster, creating small ice crystals to form in his blood.

The Hulk's verdant skin was just beginning to turn back into Bruce Banner pink when the Danger Room simulation suddenly shut down, and Beast's furry blue face came into view.

"Oh sure, right when I'm winning," scoffed Bobby in protest.

"Robert, what are you doing?" asked Hank sternly.

"Well I was running a Danger Room simulation," he said as he became flesh once more, his ice abs replaced with the average body of Bobby Drake.

"You have Rogue duty," replied Hank.

"I switched with Logan," said Bobby as he zipped his jacket up.

"No, you didn't," said Hank. "And besides, that exercise is way past your level."

"No it's not," said Bobby, annoyance in his voice. "I'm an X-Man now, I'm ready for the big boy games."

"That was intended as an exercise in teamwork," said Hank. "And if you're a real X-Man, then do you real X-Man duties."

"Rassum frassum," mumbled Bobby as he stormed off to the detention center.

"C'mon...c'mon...." Waiting, that's all her life had become was a giant waiting game. Rogue tapped her foot absently. It was Hank who decided it would be best for her to exercise occasionally, knowing the risks of entropy. Especially since her cast was due to come off eminently, her arm would be weakened and would need rehabilitation.

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