Welcome back, or Welcome aboard, X-Fans!! Happy to have you. You're about to read an engaging story unlike any Envisioned thus far! With an exclusive cast of original characters -outside of brief references and a transitional, opening sequence- set in an original environment! Before we delve in, for those who need a little refresher or bringing up to speed, the following panels feature a young mutant of mine called Holo, whose mutation is in the illusion-set -allowing her to project what she imagines! Not that that'll come up here. . . .
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Panel 1 Panel 2 It's evening. We see Jean Grey and At the same time, in Holo's room, Scott Summers in their room of the we see her at her desk with paper X Mansion, getting ready to go out. and pencils for sketching in front of her, one in her hand. Her other hand supporting her
chin as she gazes off, coinci-
-dentally in the direction of P1.
Panels 3 | 4 Panel 5
A close-up of the last piece of jewelry Jean Holo's thoughtful gaze shifts
is putting on: her Tiffany bracelet, which we towards her window.
see now bears an hourglass charm; the
outline of the two halves not so rounded,
making an X. Jean's bracelet isn't a charm
one, but the hourglass fits congruously
with the links. | Standing in the middle
of the room, she & Scott kiss.
Panel 6 Panel 7
We now see the couple in the garage, Through Holo's window, we see getting into his blue Mazda RX-8. the car going down the drive.
Panel 8 Holo returns to her sketching.
That following morning, somewhere in an apartment across State, a young First Nations woman is just starting her day.....
We've seen this woman before*. It's Holo's older sister, Jacilon.
*Seen for the first time in Cyclops & Jean Grey Chronicles, Volume #1 Part 7! I've reverted to my original spelling for her name, here. -Tra
She straps on a wristwatch and engages a certain setting, then heads to the kitchen where she decides to heat up her breakfast by the fire of her own hand.
About 40 minutes later, her watch has beeped. See concentrates for a second, and we now see her make use of telekinesis to return a book to the shelf and her empty dishes to the sink. She resets the alarm on her watch before going to get ready for the day. Returning to the living room, she waves her hand to open, before she arrives at it, the door -the balcony door.
Levitating a cross-body bag and shoes over to herself, she gets them on while telekinetically closing the door behind her.
She stares up at the foggy sky a moment before turning attention to herself; pushing her hands downward then sweeping them up and out and with that, we see OfAll levitating herself into the sky.
The fog affords her some cover as she crosses the city to an inner-city neighborhood, known as the "Mutant Mile" for its particular concentration of such individuals.
A plaque on the wall of her destination reads:
ALEX SUMMERS
Outreach Center
for Mutant Youth
Inside the office area, she presently uses the telekinesis to sort some files from an old, banged up filing cabinet into one in better condition.
A colleague enters -a woman with hair like willow branches and scab-like patches on her skin that on closer inspection, are actually bark. "Good morning, Jacky."
"'morning, Willow." She goes over to where a phone is charging and removes it from the dock. "Shoot! My charger must be busted, unless the battery in the phone's dead." Coincidentally Jacilon's watch beeps, which gives her an idea. "Mind if I?"
She exposes the battery and, touching it with a finger, releases a visible spark of electricity.
The screen lights up.
"Hey, thanks!"
"Anytime I can," she responds, resetting the alarm on her watch before returning to the files, which she's now sorting without the use of powers.
Meanwhile, at another part of the city, a young man is being chewed out for the work he's down at a recycling plant.
Boss: "I'm sorry, Luna-"
Luna (breathing like his adrenaline's up): "C'mon! When I'm up I do the work of five other people! I do both shifts!"
The Boss's patience fades: "Yeah, and when you're down you don't do any, and this-" he gestures to a debris filled section of warehouse. "You create more work the way you break up furniture -look at the mess in here!"
"Don't I always clean it up? I was just about to before you walked-"
The Boss makes an x-ing motion with his hands. "There have been complaints, and as far as I'm concerned you can clean out. That's the bottom line."
Luna looks horrified.
The Boss settles. "Look, I'm hear for a reference. I won't mention your shortcomings to any would-be employers, they can figure out for themselves what's par for the course."
Luna's face goes flat, his gaze narrowed. "In hiring a mutant, you mean?"
The Boss holds up his hands and backs away with a concluding smile, as if to say he's done touching this subject.
Luna, still breathing rapidly, looks down. His next couple breaths coming out like sighs, he shakes his head. Then raises his eyes to a heavy piece of furniture two other employees are just bringing in.
Without a word to them, Luna goes and upends the furniture with a possessed kind of strength before stalking off.
Employee # 1: "Jeeze, Luna!" Employee # 2: "I hate Lunatic week."
Luna starts to run -though not from being upset; like he needs to do something with his energy.
It's later on. We're back at the Outreach Center where Jacilon has handed bottles of water to a group of youths sitting in chairs arranged in a circle. She has a bottle as well.
"Every one's opinions are like these bottles. None of them hold more water than any other. At first. But when you drink some in," she does so for illustration, "that bottle becomes able to hold more -technically- than one you haven't drank from. When we're out on the streets, or in our homes, hearing the negative opinions others have on us, we need to make sure we're drinking from our own bottle. Not theirs."
One kid, whose eye colour, hair colour and texture changes with a tic, listens intently.
A teen girl whose mutation is unclear, turns and nods in a 'that makes sense' way to a boy who has somewhat protruding eyes and a mouth that comes out the same distance as his nose, giving him a fishlike appearance. He chugs some of his water.
Another teen sits tossing their water bottle back and forth from one hand to the other. Any of their visible skin is a mix of dark and light patches. Their ears are small and rounded like a big cat's, though in the same position as human ears. They ask seriously: "What if that negative stuff is coming from the face in the mirror?"
Jacilon had been walking around a bit in the centre of the circle while she spoke and now pauses, looking straight at them as she lands on her answer: "Then you have to think of it like you're making a meal."
They react in a non-verbal way that critically expresses 'first water bottles, now meals?', but do listen as Jacilon goes on: "Does what you're feeding yourself feel nutritional? Whether from ourselves or others, we should only consume the opinions that help us to function; discern which bad tasting ones are like medicine that will ultimately help us, and which are like poison. And be careful if you find yourself craving a certain kind."
The teen raises their brows like 'really?', shaking their head as they uncap their bottle -yet their mockery seems more for Jacilon's delivery than her message, which they look to have taken in like they're presently taking a swig.
Someone enters the Center.
Jacilon: "Luna. I didn't expect you in today." She's walked out of the circle up to him, noting his physical condition.
He still breathes like he's been in a race and seems like he could go for another. "Yeah, well," he tosses his arms out in way of a shrug, "makes two of us. You doing a lesson today?
Jacilon shakes her head, but he's already striding to a key hanging on the wall, so she verbalizes: "No."
"Great. I need some gym time bad." He turns to head right back out the door, "I'll be there if anyone needs me."
Jacilon looks like she's having a thought. She turns back around to the group. "You guys mull over what I said. I think Luna could use a hand." She catches Willow's eye and through a combination of facial expression and gestures, confirms she's fine holding down the fort.
In a couple minutes she's joined Luna in a space that's just large enough to accommodate an adequate gym mat; some boxes and random-looking items piled up against one corner just off the mat.
There isn't much in the way of exercise equipment. Presently Luna seems like he's trying to tear apart some weights, like a mad man.
Jacilon: "I thought I'd offer someone to help you blow off steam."
"Who? You?"
Jacilon smiles. "If you say the word."
"'k, let's go." His dropping of weight masks the sound of the door.
Suddenly we hear feature-changing kid: "Can we stay n' watch?" He's there with the others from the Circle.
"Sure -pick a side! Make it interesting!"
The kids divvy up. Jacilon resets her watch timer before facing Luna on the opposite end of the gym mat. They both have athletic builds, though the hopped-up state he's in doesn't seem like what anyone should be taking on.
Until Jacilon's skin mutates into organic metal.
The youths react like they were wondering what they were going to see, and are excited by the pick.
It's the following week, we see Jacilon's routine again, except she gets ready to leave after lunch instead of breakfast, and departs not by way of telekinesis, but the currents of the air; providing cover for herself by also creating a cloud to go along with those in the partly sunny sky.
In an area closer to the Mutant Mile, we see a teen girl painting the wall of a laneway with no tools but her own fingers, which exude pigment to the hue and stroke size of her choosing.
Troublemaking Teen # 1: "Hey! The Mutie Mile's further up that way!" They point aggressively. "Go smear your filth where it belongs."
Troublemaking Teen # 2: "Yeah -you know how hard this neighborhood works to keep it clean?"
The girl has turned, and stares at them at a loss. "I have no intention of ruining it. Just the opposite -there used to be amazing murals all down this place," she gestures to one end of the lane, "they said something to me. I don't know when they changed that," -caught up in her memory, she shifts her eyes back to the wall and misses Troublemaking Teen # 1 motioning some direction to his pal- "I can't be the only one missing it, though. Maybe if-"
Her words are literally drowned out as she finds a bucket's worth of water thrown over her head.
Troublemaking Teen # 2: "Maybe nothing, Mutie! Now you clean that up!" He tosses the bucket on a driveway where a hose can be seen laying.
Troublemaking Teen # 1 starts to approach: "Then never come back here!"
She just manages to get out of the predicament of having the wall at her back, but the 2nd teen dashes past his pal to block her path. He seems to just be enjoying messing with her. His pal seems intent on messing her up.
Suddenly a heart-stopping snap of thunder pauses everyone in their tracks.
Reflexively they all look up -not a storm cloud visible in the sky. . .until one forms right before their eyes.
Rain pours down in only their area of the alley, rinsing the pigment from the wall and getting the two boys just a soaked as the girl, while OfAll glides down from a rooftop. Recovering from the unexpected happenings faster than the boys, the girl tries to make a run for it between them.
She gets pushed- -the momentum has her about to collide with a jutting out piece of splintered fence when OfAll grabs her just in time --phasing her out of harm's way and breaking her fall. "Oops-" and also accidentally phased the girl's lower legs into the ground. "It's okay, you're okay. Just one second-" OfAll extricates the girl's legs one at a time, then rises and turns to the boys. "Look, the wall's all clean now. How about never tormenting someone again?"
Troublemaking Teen # 1 looks he's having an inner battle with his fight or flight response. His pal speaks to him out of the side of his mouth: "You wanna' get stuck in the pavement? Let's go!"
Troublemaking Teen # 1 relents -with a final, threatening glare at the girl. The boys stalk off.
Jacilon: "Sorry about that. You okay?" The girl is back on her feet. "Yeah. . .yeah, thanks."
"What were you going to paint, there?" she asks with interest. "Oh, just something abstract. Not like what used to be around here." She starts straightening out her clothes; ringing out the wettest spots; getting her hair out of her face.
"Your old neighborhood?" Jacilon questions perceptively. The girl nods. "When I was little we lived here. . .just came back. Nothing's the same." She looks around with wistful eyes.
Jacilon looks sympathetic. "Were one of these houses yours?" She raises her eyes to the ones visible from here.
The girl shakes her head. "I'm just wandering around. . .Or I was. I used to be able to. . ."
"I could walk with you, if you'd like? Keep anyone else from trying to mess with you."
The girl considers, then sighs. "No. I don't think I'm going to see what I came to. . . Thanks anyway. And again for the rescue."
Jacilon is thoughtful as the girl starts to go: "-Hey, do you know the Mutant Outreach Center in the 'Mile?"
The girl turns back around. "I don't think so."
"I'm just headed there to start my shift. If you like you can come with. Anyone's welcome for any time."
The girl considers, then smiles sarcastically: "Anyone except guys like those I hope," she points down the lane.
Jacilon smiles. "Yeah, we have a strictly no-jerk policy."
The girl laughs. "Alright, where is it?"
"We can get a bus. One should just be coming to the stop." She checks her watch, which reminds her to re-set her alarm.
"Oh, I'm okay to get there myself if I have the address. I can meet you there."
"What do you mean?"
"Like, that you can fly if you want."
OfAll smiles: "Not now since I saved you from that," she points to the splintered fence.
"I can only manifest one mutation at a time."
The girl's eyes go wide: "One mutation from any?"
"Any I've been exposed to, and that I can wrap my head around."
She takes that in. "So, you could do this now?"
She turns her hand so her palm is up, and exudes pigment from her hand before reabsorbing it.
"I'll let you know in about 40 minutes! That's when I can switch again." She starts leading the way.
"Coolness." She follows.
At the Center, another Circle Session is taking place.
The girl whose mutation is unclear speaks: "You know why toddlers throw tantrums? I mean outside of the spoiled ones? It's because they've got this big communication gap and can't literally say how really, really uncomfortable they are. And you know what sucks about being a mutant? Sometimes regular people bug my brain out so much and their ears are so stopped up that the only way I can express how really bad I'm feeling, is by hammering the walls." She's holding an apple, and at this statement her middle finger contracts before propelling into it with such force that she smashes clear through it it. She puffs out a breath, "hammering the walls like I'm some tantrumming toddler. And then I'm just 'proof positive' that mutants are deficient, destructive, loose cannons. What sucks is always being rep for an entire demographic."
Now we see quite a different version of Luna, slouched calmly in his seat, looking not the least bit like he has a heart rate to bring down or more energy than he can burn. "Word. You know how Stayc and I moved in together. Well we had some friends over to see our new place -friends like Stayc, not mutants- and like, with how my mutation fluctuates so intensely," he rubs his upper lip, "it just works better for Stayc and I to keep separate bedrooms. Well these friends noticed and the one, she's like, 'ohhh, now I know what to expect if I date one'. And like, no, you don't. I still haven't met another mutant whose mutation presents like mine."
At this point, Jacilon arrives.
Luna looks up. "Oh hey, Jac. Your watch finally blip out?" He just notices the girl entering behind Jacilon and smiles, realizing that's the reason Jacilon's late.
"This is Carly."
"Some other kids I know actually call me 'Inktip'," she holds her hand up, showing her nails which she cycles through a few different colours before putting it down. "I'll answer to either; it's one of the nicer names I've been called."
There are multiple nods at this shared experience.
A second girl with an unclear mutation half-grins. "My brother calls me 'Knickknack-Paddy-Whack'. The first bit's caught on here, too."
The one with mottled skin pipes up: "I call myself 'Jag'. Feel free to as well."
"I don't know what you can call me," the feature-changing boy says, arms folded, looking down at his own lap, "I mean they all know my actual name, but," he shrugs, "I want a mutant name...something like an X-Man's."
The first girl has gotten up, coming around to greet Inktip with a handshake. "Why do you think of those guys so much? I mean yeah, they are cool- but it isn't like they're here living our day-to-day."
A smaller shrug, the boy now sitting in a tighter position.
The girl faces Inktip. "I'm Beryl. Like the gem, not a gun or something. And he's Walley," she indicates the boy with the fish-like appearance. Walley waves a hand that shows slightly elongated fingers with webbing one third of the way up; halfway up his thumb. Jag is paying attention to the other boy: "'Quirk'! There's a name for you."
The boy makes a face at them.
Inktip: "Well, just to make things easy, until you find one you like, do you mind if I call you 'Styles'?"
A smile gradually spreads across his face while his posture relaxes.
Inktip grins.
Luna: "You wanna' join the Circle?" he's getting up from it; grabbing a jacket he'd left piled beside his chair. "We sort of deal with stuff through it as a group. But you can participate anywhere else," he indicates the rest of the room, "or no where; just hang."
Jacilon adds: "We encourage dealing with things privately, in our own personal ways, too. Sometimes that's what a person needs that instead."
Nodding, Inktip looks around at the space, which besides the most open area where the Circle is taking place, is divided into other sections other youths are presently occupying. From her position, Inktip can see an area with a rocking climbing wall, another for art -to her delight- and crafting, a general games area, and in the farthest corner, a section with a couple bookshelves, beanbag chairs, a low table with CDs, headphones and a tabletop fountain. She's surprised to see one of the other youths moving a wall panel to more close that section off; Jacilon goes to assist.
Tying his jacket around his waist, Luna explains: "All the walls sectioning things off are moveable panels. We open the space up or close it off into sections. Whatever the day calls for." "Cool."
Jag has gotten up as well and heads for a small kitchen off to the side of the front door.
Inktip: "What's behind those doors?" There are two, on different walls.
Luna, bending down to grab a water bottle that had been beneath his jacket on the floor, rises and points to each in turn: "Bathrooms. Staff Offices. The staff being me, Jacilon, and Willow," he points her out, "and a couple others who come only occasionally." Realizing his bottle is empty, he joins Jag in the kitchen to fill it up..
What's in that out building?" Inktip jabs a thumb in the general direction.
Luna: "This and that. We rent it out as a storage space but since what's being stored now isn't taking up much of it, we use it ourselves as a gym. Works better than making a part of here into one." He takes a drink.
Returning, Jacilon adds: "Incidentally, I teach Okichitaw every week. You're welcome to join that, too."
"What's that?"
"An Indigenous martial art that incorporates others with warrior combat and survival techniques -I haven't been teaching long and some techniques I'm learning alongside my class."
Inktip looks impressed all the same, then around at everything again; her hand going to the back of one of the unoccupied chairs in an indecisive sort of way.
Knicknack is looking at her hand. "Your nails really are cool."
"Yeah?" Inktip snaps back into the moment. "Want some? Pick any colour."
"Oo- umm," she studies the ones that are on display. "Maybe all of them, but in a smooth rainbow." Inktip comes around and takes Knicknack's hand, she brushes over her nails, one at a time, with the tips of her own fingers, painting the colour down them -her own nails changing to reflect whatever colour she's painting, if they weren't that one already.
"Way cool!" Knicknack holds her painted nails up to admire.
Inktip smiles. "So why are you called 'Knicknack'? What's your mutation?"
"Come over here." She leads her to a shelf on which sit crafts of different materials. Knicknack selects a glass one, holds it in the curved palm of one hand while she places her other overtop. In a few seconds, her hands come together closer and she takes the top one off to reveal a small mound of sand in her palm. She then replaces her other hand over top, reversing the process; the glass object back as it was.
"I can't turn water into wine or lead into gold," she explains, "but I can change stuff into sort of other versions of itself. Concrete back to cement, instant ice from water, and this sort of thing." She replaces the "knickknack" on the shelf with a satisfied smile.
Inktip: "I love these," she takes a different one in her hands, admiring it before looking at the other crafts on the shelf. "Did you make those rock stacks, as well?"
"No," Knicknack answers soberly.
Walley has come over: "Colber* did."
It's clear Inktip's registered the change of mood. At this time, however, they don't elaborate. She doesn't ask.
*But you can read -or re-read- the story behind this in Cyclops & Jean Grey Chronicles Vol.1! ~Tra
It's the end of the day, and Inktip lingers even as the last youth begins heading out. Jacilon calls her into the office area. She brings a chair over from one of the other desks and invites Inktip to sit. "When we were talking in your neighborhood, I got the impression. . . You came back alone?"
She doesn't meet Jacilon's eyes. Just sits quietly a minute, staring down at her nails which she changes the hues of. Then nods. "I couldn't stay where I was."
A silence follows. Jacilon waiting to see if Inktip wants to share more, Inktip waiting for more questions.
Instead. . ."I know."
She looks up. Jacilon goes on: "I couldn't stay where I used to be, either. The first time by someone else's choice. The second time by mine."
Inktip's expression creases with interest.
We'd see in a sequence of panels what OfAll goes on to describe:
"As a kid I lived in Canada, in a community of my people. Many of us were mutants, more than proportionately were in other places. Some organization with power decided, since x-genes typically activate at puberty, any younger children should be taken out of the community and placed with "appropriate" families in order to "correct the problem". This happened to me when I was 6. Years later another sweep was made. My parents had had another daughter; she, of course, was even younger when they took her. By this time I was a teenager who showed no signs of mutantcy. Taking this as proof positive of my placement, they put my little sister there, too. At least then we had each other. The family was nice enough, if you weren't a mutant. . .About a year after, I realized my sister was -her x-gene had presented that early. I was scared what anyone would do if they found out, so pretending we were going to the park for a picnic, I packed a bag and ran away with her.
By this time the family we were placed with had moved from Canada to here. . .not New York specifically, but close enough that, eventually, this is where we found ourselves."
Inktip is awed. "When did your x-gene activate then?"
"While we were on the streets, the same year I took us away."
She eyes her latest young charge as Inktip takes it all in. . . then Jacilon gently concludes: "I just wanted to let you know I've been there. . . . and I'm here. If you ever feel the need to share more of your story." Inktip looks up, meeting Jacilon's eyes.
. . . . .transition to another Circle Session, where OfAll is stating: "Stories are keys. They can keep gates closed."
In her hand is a newspaper with a disconcerting headline for mutants.
"But they can also help us get somewhere. Some stories are omnipresent, while others are for a place and time. We hope this Center feels like a place you all can share yours, any time there's a need."
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I hope you've enjoyed this Spin-Off Snapshot!
This concept is intended to be a series, but as I landed on what I want it to be, I realized it's out of the scope of my singular, rather sheltered voice.
So consider this the short film version of what I hope to become something more!
"Thanks!" going out to each one of you for joining & continuing to join me on these Envisionings --Be sure to meet back at this space, Friday the 16th, for the neXt installment!