Word On The Street (OPEN)

[brooke]

Something shiny flew through the Front Hall window pane of the doors, the glass shattering and flying at all angles. The shining object flew hard and true and struck home in the wall across the Hall with a loud "THWIP!"

The dagger was a Sai inset with black leather handles and gold lace strapping them tightly to the steel. So sharp they cut the skin at the slightest brush, its owner was obviously in love with it. Another shatter from the other windows and a second Sai landed at the opposite wall the same wall. The throws had driven the weapons to the hilt into the wall.

A booted foot crunched along the tiny shards of glass on the floor as the young woman stepped across the carpet littered in gleaming pieces of it's once so powerful windows. The woman's sultry smile gave the obvious an answer, she wasn't friend to the X-Men.

"Word on the street is the heroes of the Big Apple reside here..."

[quicksilver]

Pietro walked out of the Danger Room, after taking Scott Summer's class on a tour, while the X-Men's field leader was away on some mission for the Professor, something Pietro would have greatly prefered, over showing these kids around. It didn't help that Jean and Ororo had gone with him, though this did place him as the senior member of the team, and that was the only reason he wasn't whining to anyone who would listen. As the students headed off for their next class, he happened to "hear" the Professor's voice in his head, telling him of an intruder in the mansion. A smile appeared on his face, as he finally had a chance to hit something, and hoped it would be one of the Brotherhood members, as he had no love for any of them, even though he was a founder of the team.

He quickly ran to his room, changed into his costume, and ran into the hallway, where the intruder was, all in under one second. "Well now, I had no idea the Brotherhood had finally gotten a member who was this beautiful. Must be making that old snake, Mystique, very jealous." One quick look at her, and he could tell she was no X-Man, though he had no evidence she was Brotherhood either, they were just the ones he wanted to hit, this week. He looked her up and down, triny to decide if he should ask her out, or knock her out. It was a tough call, but as always, his hormones decided for him. "You know, I know a nice little cafe, in Paris, that we could go to, just the two of us."

[brooke]

Brooke's lips slowly turned up into a crooked, devious smile. She was a clever minx that tended not to settle down, but liked to tease. There was no man that could ever keep up with her, let alone her interests in slowly torturing everyone around her. It was just a fact that any man that wanted her would have to be like a puppy dog and a sidekick, always chasing, never catching her and able to take the slow, meaningless tortures. It was obvious, no man had existed yet and Brooke doubted this was the one either.

"You're quick to hit, Pietro." She smiled even darker if that had been at all possible as she sauntered slowly around him. Yes, he had a great backside and wonderful biceps, but that was just enough for a fun tasteful night and to leave him insane on the steps of an infirmary somewhere. Most of her dates ended that way anyway. "In both senses as I've come to find, always searching for a fight or a fling." Her eyes captured his with meaning, a challenge. Could he put up with her torture?

"How cute." She let her eyes drift back away, letting the enthrallment do its work as it may or may not. She couldn't care less, it wasn't in her interests to play so simply, she preferred her games to be long and sickly strewn out. Though, she swayed her hips a bit and sat on the back of the couch, boots on the seat cushions. Brooke leaned forward, her knees drawing apart as her arms rested seemingly lazy between her thighs. She was like a tigress, so beautiful looking and yet so dangerous in a flash. The darkness in her eyes echoed the horror she liked to bring and oh how she was interested in Pietro Maximoff now, how would his scream sound to her ears?

Brooke leaned back, hands on the edge of the couch with her rear, propping up her chest a little higher as her knees stayed apart for a view Pietro might get distracted by. She was unpredictable, the was one of her best abilities, but she also came with the fact that she never really knew what she wanted to do until she was doing it. It made her an excellent torturer. "So, Pietro, which are you going to go more for?"

[quicksilver]

Pietro was quite sure of himself, almost to the point of arrogance, a trait he most likely inherited from Magneto. "Why the chase, ofcourse. After all, when has any hunter ever been able to turn down a challenge?" His smile showed off his cocky, carefree, attitude, which also told those who knew him that he was about to use his super speed, however, before he could, he felt a strange sensation, one that he had only felt two times in his life before, fear.

He hated this feeling, as it made him feel weak and inferior, and this made him feel another sensation, rage. He clinched his fists and jaw, and in a blind rage, tore off, running around Brooke in a circle, creating a small, yet powerful tornado which threatened to tear the mansion apart. "Arrrah, Damn it, get out of my head!" He knew she had to be the one putting these fears, vision of a dead Wanda, in his brain, as her grin grew darker and more sinister, just before the vision hit him.

[brooke]

Brooke felt the rush of his fear fill her like a flood of new-found glee. He tasted strongly, more so than most did when she tasted their fear. The familiar hint of metallic in her mouth much like the taste of blood flooded her under the swaying power that was rising slowly to the surface. Truly, Pietro Maximoff was among the better she had played with, not only in taste and rising fear the fueled itself with his astounding rage, but because he had realized at once what she was doing. No, he couldn't know who she was, nor how she was doing what she was. He could only know that she was a mutant and that she could live with. She hadn't even begun to truly play with him yet and that made the game all the more exciting to her.

The tornado was slowly beginning to suck away the oxygen around her. She felt her lungs begin to labor in gathering her the necessary air. That wouldn't do. Brooke stood from the couch and took a few steps away from it, Pietro's blur spinning around her.

"My dear Pietro, your fear is something you block out so much that your arrogance has fooled you into believing you fear nothing. Allow me to help you see the truth." She didn't need to see him to fool with his mind, she felt his psyche around her and that was all she needed to pin point her power. Sifting through a person's mind was like going through a warehouse of boxes upon boxes of files all filled with memories, thoughts and desires. Some were easier to read than others, some were plain minded and too simple. Pietro was a mixture, he had simple and understandable fears, but his urge to hide them so carefully clouded things slightly.

Brooke's eyes clouded over slowly, black swirling over the iris and pupil and throughout. She stared ahead blankly as she smiled again. "Pietro, you need to face it, she's dead." A lie. But to the mind of someone under her power, she could make one believe they were a circus clown that had been raped once by their scout master- something she'd liked so much she used it on more than one occasion.

"I know it hurts, you hide the pain away so carefully in your little pocket. You cry every night and you worry that being in the new mansion will let others hear it for the first time. But your father, he would never approve of such failure, you musn't let him see again. He saw before, you remember that too, when you turned the corner in the alley and fell to your knees." Brooke's lips twisted into a deeper smile. "He told you how disappointed he was in you and left." Brooke was an actress as well as a torturer, it made her all the more lethal. Her creativity was not limited to the way she acted along to others though, it gave her the amazing talent to paint such detailed pictures and memories in another's mind that it was like those memories, however false, had always been there and been true.

[quicksilver]

Running, Pietro did this better than anyone else on the planet, and not just because of his superspeed, but also because he always was so desperate to leave where ever it was that he stood. He wanted better, believed that he and Wanda deserved better, and therefore no place was ever good enough for long, not the Brothhood Mansion, not Latveria, not even here, at Xavire's School.

"Shut up, wench! You know nothing of me, or my powers! And you certainly don't know her, either!" Though there was a small part of him that believed Wanda could handle herself, he was still the over protective brother, whose rage was unleashed when he felt anyone was threatening or using her, which in his mind was everyone. Although he was originally determined to get Brooke in his bed, he was know determined to see her dead.

He increased his speed, sucking the oxygen out of the eye of his cyclone, while sucking in anything that wasn't nailed or bolted down, outside of it, and hurling said objects into the cyclone, causing more damage to the mansion, and anyone who might try to intervene. Pictures flew off the wall, chairs and tables, as well a small laptop computer, all became lethal projectiles, caught in his winds.

He would have simply aimed them all at her, stopped on a dime, and sent her shredded corpse into a wall, if he wasn't fighting the psychic battle, in his mind, at the same time. Having just recently learned who his father was, the Master of Magnetism, Magneto, his mind was tormented by not only her illusions of him abandoning him and Wanda, but also all the actual times that he told Pietro how worthless he was to himself and his cause, which besides the man's brutality towards humans, was one of the reasons he left the Brotherhood. While his mind's eye watch his father abandon him, over and over, his body was moving so fast, that the friction was destroying the wood floor, revealing the metal ceiling of the basement, and adding more debris to his arsenal, and putting a tremendous amount of stress on the walls, more than they had been built to take.

[brooke]

Brooke grinned, tilting her head back and arms extending out despite the force of the cyclone against her. His mind was wonderful, filling with rage fueled from fear, it fed her like little else did. Her powers were pulsing to life with new-found strength. Pietro Maximoff was fueling her like gasoline to a flame.

"Stupid boy," her eyes were black as pitch but her taunting smile was like an angel's twisted by the devil. "You couldn't handle me in bed." She laughed at his thoughts, the images that sprang to his mind at the thought. She played with them, morphed them and gave the frozen images life to move. The frozen stills in his mind began to move, sliding the naked bodies against one another under the sweaty sheets under the night sky. Her mind altered his senses, willing him to feel her along his body in all the right places.Men could not work when they were feeling a woman pressed so hotly against them, around them.

Once his mind was wrapped in the images moving like a motion picture, she tore away his senses all at once. His sense of hearing the loud billowing of the cyclone and stomping of his feet, gone. Next to go was his touch, he would no longer feel the ground beneath his feet, which, would throw him off. The feel of the floor beneath our feet is one of the greatest accents to the human mind because without it, we are numb and fall. Then, her favorite, his sight went away like the lights were turned out.

[quicksilver]

His rage was building, threatening to push him over the edge, as adrenalin pumped into his system and pushed his muscles and mind further than they would normally go, causing him to focus solely on Brooke, and not the damage HE was causing to the mansion, or the danger he now posed to his students and anyone who happened to be nearby, as his cyclone caused cracks to appear in the walls of the Mansion. He had always had a problem keeping his temper under check, something that ran in his family, but he could not recall a time when he was so enraged, so badly desired someones death, which despite all of his years of training from Xavire and Magneto, left his mind open to Brooke's assault.

One second he was running in circles, then the next thing he knew, he was in a bed, in a room, that he didn't recognize, his entire body being caressed by the very woman he was trying to kill, and yet despite the small voice in the back of his head warning him, he could not resist getting sucked in to the illusion. Magneto had tried to build up Pietro's natural resistance to telepaths, to keep Xavire and Jean Grey from getting into his head, but all that training was no good, when he lost control in situations like this. His will was slowly being drained, as her scent, touch, and her very voice filled him, trapping him causing him to begin to slow down, and the objects that were being pulled in his wake, to fall to the floor.

If this wasn't bad enough, just as her touch was about to consume him, all his senses went dead, causing him to slam head first into one of the walls, his momentum carrying him trough it, as he stumbled, stunned from the impact. "Damn! You think because I am blind, I can not fight you?!" Once again, as soon as his senses vanished, his temper took hold of him again, and without thinking, he went to attack her, and not being able to see, feel, or hear her, he ran face first into a solid oak door, knocking himself flat onto his back. Because all of his senses were gone, he thought he was still running, and so he looked like a fish, flapping around on land, his legs and arms flailing about.

[brooke]

Brooke smiled and ran a thumb over her naked lips idly as she approached his flailing form on the floor. She drained away the remaining strength of touch in his body, without the last ounce, his brain could no longer communicate to muscles to function them. His body would stop moving, he would be paralyzed like that of someone in a coma. Slowly, she opened up his sense of hearing so that he could hear her as he lay helpless.

Brooke knelt over him, taking in his scent, tasting the sweet rage just below the calm, numb surface. "You, Pietro, are a beautiful little treat, do you know that?" she gave a throaty chuckle and lay her chin in her palm, watching him struggle against her uselessly. "I can cause you pain instead, Pietro, would you prefer the pain? Or the numb? Some like the pain better, because after so long of not feeling anything...it messes you up. It's much like the Chinese Water Torture, a slow drip on the human body strapped to a table, it drives people insane at its simplicity." She smiled. "Now, you didn't even give me a chance, you just attacked...you keep doing that, you're going to get yourself killed very easily...and pathetically."

[quicksilver]

He could feel his strength leaving him, in the Gypsy culture that he was raised, it was believed that this meant a ghost or malevolent spirit was attacking him, a thought that was in the back of his mind, giving how useless his attacks on her were. However, despite these thoughts, Pietro had been living in more "cultured" countries long enough to know that not every bad thing that happened was due to spirit or curses, and he knew that the true reason for the mess he was currently in was that she was a mutant telepath, not a spirit or witch. He wanted to speak, to atleast yell out a defiant curse at her, but he couldn't move his lips, or make a single sound, despite all his will. This made him feel more pathetic than he had ever felt, in his entire life.

Thoughts raced through his mind, trying to think of a way out of this situation, when Brooke reawakened his hearing, and for a reason he could not explain, her voice sounded as alluring then, as it did in her illusion, which prompted an embarrassing reaction, from his lower half, or perhaps this to was an illusion, aswell. His mind was so confused, he wasn't sure what was reality, and what was her. "Pain....I am....use to. So, do your worse." His voice was soft, yet raspy and dry, as though he hadn't had anything to drink in days. He wanted to yell at her, curse her, and spit in her face, but every word required so much energy, so much concentration, that he simply couldn't get himself to do any of those things. Magneto and Wanda would be ashamed, if they saw me now, not that I care what Magneto thinks of me, but to have Wanda see me like this, would be too much. He thought to himself, knowing full well that Brooke could hear every single thought as if he were talking aloud, but not caring. His thoughts came easier than his actual words, so he decided to use them, instead. You have no idea what I can take, little girl. Though you may well be a powerful telepath, I doubt you would last a day in the Brotherhood, and even less against them.

[brooke]

"Oh," she laughed and lowered herself as she rubbed against him, her hot, lower half rubbing against his. The dark sparkle in her eye meant she liked it, more than that, it wasn't an illusion, it was just his reaction to such a creature as her. As she laughed, she marveled in the visions in his mind, the sacred dancing at a voodoo ritual as the dark lords were introduced to the circle, the sacrifice being suddenly killed inexplicably before the altar as the servants became posessed. Brooke played with that image, the memory starting the shiver so there were doubles and triples of everything from side to side. Yet in the fire that roared high, Brooke's Gypsy-dressed body danced in seductive rhythms as she laughed at him, her eyes glistening with black magic.

Each curve of her hip, her breasts and legs, glistened and gleamed in the fire light, the flames that never touched her as she danced in them. She was some strange creature between worlds, the day and the night. A creature that taunted and cast wicked spells, a Goddess that was worshiped with both seductive deovtion and astounding terror in her great wrath.

The vision flickered away as Brooke continued to speak and let the vision's images slowly melt away so he could listen carefully. "Boy, how pathetic and young you are, I am much older than you would believe, and so much more powerful than you could ever imagine. I have already spoken and made arrangements with your brotherhood...you are not so terrifying as you would have other believe, just a bunch of kids playing dress up."

[quicksilver]

"Ahhh...." He muttered, as her body rubbed against his own, letting her know that despite his verbal protest, his body was enjoying the touch of such a beautiful woman. He tried to fight it, to control his body's reaction to her, but he was unable to stop any of it, her power greater than anything he had ever faced, mutant or mystic. It made him wonder if even his own sister would be able to defeat or deify her. "No....please....atleast, not here, where she can see..." The one thing he wanted, that he prayed wouldn't happen, was for Wanda to see this, to see her "big brother" in this situation, this vulnerable.

As he begged her for mercy, images of sacrifices and images of Brooke's seductive dace filled his mind, he could feel her invading his every scent, as the rhythm of her body's movement, the smell of her perfume, and the sight of her, took over, until everything else seemed to disappear, but her. He couldn't;t hear, see, or smell anything or anyone except for her, as though they were the only two beings alive in the entire universe. As he fell to his knees, his body completely drained and exhausted, he managed to look up at her, and it was obvious he was defeated, and he knew it, he smiled and spoke. "Do with me as you want. I am yours to command."

[scarletwitch]

Wanda was looking for her brother it had been a long day and she had not spoken to him in a week, some kids ran paster screaming sounds like some one powers were out of control again. she rushed agents the kids. she stopped in the hall were she stood. A wind was spinning around fast only one person she knew could do that. she watched for a moment.

There was no need for her to get involved she watched till it all changed. the smile on her face dropped. Her brother was losing and this witch was messing with HER brothers mind. She could feel the rage building how dare she mess with what was hers. No one got to mess with his head but her. she grabbed a random kid. " go tell Emma frost that Wanda needs her or i will turn you in to a toad." The boy went white and ran off.

a scarlet orb appeared in her hands it was time to stop this. She heard the words Brotherhood and that made her angry. How dare her father goon do this to her brother well it was time to live up to all the Story's she had heard the students tell about her.

The orb went flying landing near her brothers and the womens feet. " HOW F*#@ing Dare you mess with MY BROTHER HEAD thats my job Wanda was floating just above the stairs a red orb in both hands she slowly guided down her feat not touching the floor.
The woman wanted to play with fire then she was going to get burned. Reality was her realm and she could bend it to her will.