07-21-2025, 08:30 AM
[ cont. from <b>blood, sweat, tears</b> ]<br><b>October 9th, 2014</b><br><br>Freedom.<br><br>A word as hollow as the voices screaming it; calling a siryn's song, showing Lucas Bishop there was no such thing as free will. Born in Camp X-Ray and there for its fall in the past had helped alleviate some anxiety he bottled deep inside. Seeing the world around him stretch and bend to the will of others had given him perspective. He was a step out of time with everyone else, always conscious of the future preparing to strike. He would find the girl; the one who would cause the end of everything.<br><br>Silent steps carried Bishop down the sidewalk. He'd chosen something more fitting for modern day instead of wandering around in his full set of armor. His suit would protect him, but he had a weapon no matter the circumstance always hidden on his person. The silence carried with determination, eyes forward, ignoring anyone and everyone who moved out of his way. Imposing, built solid, meeting no trouble as he reached the gleaming, towering monstrosity which was Frost International's New York headquarters. It brought a level of disgust he never thought he'd feel again. Pretentious and unnecessary, the windows allowed him to see what was occurring inside to a point.<br><br>Through the glass doors he went, pausing at the machines facing him. Big frames, large enough to accommodate even his frame. Somehow he would pass through, watching another be scanned with some kind of magnetic detection tool. Bishop gave pause, hesitating not out of fear but out of preparation to fight should it come to it.<br><br>Sure enough, as he passed through the frame, a loud beep most likely gave away he was harboring a weapon on his person.<br><br>He drew it, pointing it at the guard who had security on the shoulder patch, along with Frost's logo. Typical of corporate big-wigs. He was familiar with them in the future. Mutant or not, if they had enough money they survived the onslaught of humanity against mutantkind, thriving in a way many others had lived in squalor, or in the camps themselves. X-Ray was not the only one.<br><br>A click, cocking the gun and chambering a round. Primitive weapons but he was going to show them just what a man from the future could do. Energy piled into the weapon, feeding right into the bullet so the end began to glow a bright, menacing red. A supercharged bullet would do more damage than a regular one.<br><br><b>"I'm here to see Emma Frost, and I am not leaving until I do."</b> What would security do to him? That was up to them to brave.<br><br>