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[futurepresentashes]

psyknife​:

“Then you best find another way to get to where you’re going.” Kwannon’s grip remained on her sword. He wasn’t backing down but he no longer seemed antagonistic, either. Still, it was better to be ready than unprepared. “Perhaps I can ask Nightcrawler if he would be interested in helping you get to your destination?” She knew of many others who would teleport, but Kurt seemed to have a bleeding heart for those in need. “It would only take a few moments.” Her gaze narrowed slightly then. Something about this man seemed… familiar. It was less of the appearance and more of the attitude, though it seemed to be buried under deep layers of maturity… and something else. “… Nate?”

     He knew the name, distantly. Like it was for many mutants, their names crawled around the future like whispers of things long since past. In this matter, however, it was best to take her advice and see if he could help Nate and his charge.

     But then his name passed her lips and his mind sprang to high alert. Not Cable, not any of his other aliases. Nate. His expression morphed in a kaleidoscope of confusion. She hadn’t been into his mind, and it was recognition she spoke with.

     “Do you know me?” The question’s almost a chuckle. He wasn’t well-known, and especially not as ‘Nathan’, moreso not as ‘Nate’, and he hadn’t met her. Not yet. Time did not only flow forward and back for him- more like a spirograph of branching timelines.

[futurepresentashes]

rulesxunbroken​:

Agatha chuckled, a gleam in her eye. “It’s what the young folk are calling us oldies.” She explained briefly. She had done a lot of research, to keep up with the times and slang of the world before her– it was a bit different than Puritan times, but every era had it’s slang and jokes. She only hoped that she could keep up with it all. “If you’re not ‘hip’, you could be subjected to public shaming.” However, she preferred the humiliation to the stake. It was a different kind of ‘roasting’.

“Time travel, hm?” She felt like she herself had traveled in time, but not with a device- she merely just lived from decade to decade. “I can make you visit the past with memories, but I am uncertain if I can physically put myself in the past or future.” She pondered for a moment. “I’ve read plenty about it, it’s quite the phenomenon.

She wetted her bottom lip, scanning for some sort of answer. “You’re welcome to use my library, I have plenty of texts on the subject. “Where are you trying to go? Past present?”

     He made a distracted noise of understanding. Language shifted with the wind, he shouldn’t be surprised. And yet, very little could actually track the use and disuse of old jargon.

     There’s a scoff through his nose, mind right back at the odd reaction to him in Al’s apartment. He supposed that was a glaring example of that particular lesson. Humiliation hadn’t been the right term, perhaps. Annoyance. That covered most of what Deadpool did.

     “No, not lookin’ to relive anything. Just trying to get home.” He knew it was a long shot, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. There was no telling if magic could help or if it would simply make things worse. Somehow. “Depending on what you’ve got, library might not be a bad option. Future from here.”

[futurepresentashes]

Why my queue posted twice in like 10 mins I’ll never know but HELLO I’m alive. Just sort of got stuck in my head for a while but I’m here. Wanting to be here more cause I miss this grouchy dad. I’m gonna be going through and clearing up the threadtracker. I’ll post it later cause I want to sort of clear out some threads as a bit of a new start cause I think I overwhelmed myself a bit.

Hope you all are staying safe ♥

[futurepresentashes]

regeneratingdegenerate​:

Wade scrambled to take cover behind Cable’s shield. He was going to lose the money he paid on these suits for sure, god-fucking-damn-it. Why couldn’t they just be investigating an actual crime? Why did it have to be a made up threat that lured them into a trap? Is that why the food was so shitty? He would never know. 

“Keep me covered a second here. I had to tell you to do that because you can’t read my mind. This next part is gonna be mighty interestin’ for you, because you can’t read my mind.” Wade fumbled with the zipper at his crotch and pulled it down quick. He reached his palm in and pressed his tongue out against his top lip while he struggled with something in his pants. “I promise I’m not cranking my hog.” A moment later, Wade had produced his Deadpool mask from his underwear and pulled it over his head.

Zipper: zipped. Mask: on. Attitude: up.

“Man, that’s better. I could barely breathe without this. Now then, what kind of piss-dribble flavored goons are we gonna have to fuck up here?” Deadpool peered through the shield at the hail of gunfire and muzzle flashes. They were going to be flanked in less than twenty seconds by the enemy making their way up the stairs. 

“Obviously the heavily armed, recently sprung from prison types,” he pried a fire extinguisher from its wall fixings and hefted it, testing the weight, “this will be fun.” Deadpool shot a masked grin back to Cable and risked the bullets as he dashed to head off the three criminals on the staircase to their right. 

They raised their submachine guns at the sight of the red mask, but Deadpool swung the fire extinguisher in a wide arc and smacked all three of them across the chest. They fell backwards, clattering loudly back to the bottom of the stairs with a number of cuss words.

It wouldn’t take them long to recover and be back on the offensive. Wade stood with his back to Cable and voiced what might have been the only sensible thing he had said all evening.

“We might wanna fall back, set up somewhere a little less open, take a few by surprise, steal some of their guns, then go to fuckin’ town. What do you think? Relaying the idea of a plan vocally because you can’t read my mind!” 

     Christ, he was regretting telling the mouthy jackass. He does cover the man, shield remaining up as his head craned enough to see the shifting man out of the corner of his eye. At the added comment about his dick, Nathan rolled his eyes. Though, he wished he hadn’t when he yanked out his mask from his fucking briefs.

     “The vendetta types, I assume,” he grunted in annoyance. He looked around, trying to find the best weapon now that they were mostly focused on Deadpool. He backed up from the bannister, eyes finally landing on the pair of large chandeliers over the open room below.

     Bingo.

     “Your turn to keep ‘em busy, hot shot!” He yelled over the hail of bullets coming up their way. He could hear a litany of shouts, but understanding them was nigh-on impossible, and he hoped that they were screaming about Deadpool.

     He moved as close to he bannister as he could without risking being too in the line of fire, and reached both hands out. There was a chance it’d piss off the virus that ate at him, but at this point it was that or just accept he’d be fodder for criminals that had, admittedly, gotten the better of them for a moment.

     The ceiling rumbled, crystalline affects dropping down under the stress of the telekinetic pull. Cracks snapped out from the chandelier, metal groaning and lights flickering as more and more of the dangling art pieces became dislodged. He could hear screaming from below, attempts to warn each other of the precarious decorations.

     Finally, they broke loose with a shriek of metal. Lights continued their frantic flickering until they died as cords ripped and tore out from the combination of the chandeliers’ weights and telekinetic pressure. With screams from below and the sound of shattering glass, the chandeliers fell onto those below that weren’t fast enough to get out of the way. He stepped back, breathing labored as he recovered from the effort.

     “That surprising enough?” He asked after a moment. “Let’s move, jackass.”

[futurepresentashes]

fatefaulted​:

     she feels him trying to push into the consciousness and a chuckle leaves darkly from blood red lips. oh yes she finds this one interesting. truly she found it eternally amusing when the ones upon this realm tried to wrap their curiosities around her being. the attempt to pick and pull upon whatever little detail they could find. 

     knowing her would be like knowing the ever growing vastness of the cosmos. that yawning maw of the unknown, of dying galaxies and collapsing stars within the mouth of madness. and yet at his inquiry, she simply laughs. an almost lighthearted quality as close to a giggle as this one could ever manage and in a semblance of a breath all is quiet for a moment. 

          ❝ oh, my dear boy… do you not get it yet? ❞   she looks genuinely curious as she passes by him towards the line of corpses before her. though it might simply be a rouse as most things are with her, must keep up with appearances after all. 

     and it is then, bare feet treading softly upon the ground that she slowly brings her hand out to delicately wave over one of the bodies. as fingers curl upward the chest cavity falls and a morbid quality of a last breath escapes the form in a groaning sigh. shoulders rise as if taking the air that’s left and the entity contently sighs as she glances back to him. 

            ❝ i’m DEATH, darling. ❞  

     There’s something unnerving about the unknown of a mind that’s locked itself shut- either by design or by will. Some he finds it amusing, but her- her presence keeps him on edge. Sudden appearance, attitude in the face of what he’s done. He takes no pleasure in death, only regards it with a morbid professionalism that he does so much else.

     Boy doesn’t sit well with him. Years not advanced to insanity, of course, but well into them- and proudly so. His expression darkens, brows pinched in a minor agitation that wells just behind the eyes like a headache.

     He watches her, unmoved from his spot. His posture is at rest, though it doesn’t pretend at relaxation. No, he’s still ready to defend himself should the need arise. A brow lifts, head cocking to the side a moment. No need to lie about something like that, and there’s power with her.

     “Don’t let me keep you from doin’ your job, then.” His tone is halfway between dry humor and sincerity. Though, curiosity lingers. “Why here?”

[futurepresentashes]

@hopeslastchxnce​ said: [ body ] - to give your muse a full-body massage ( charles giving nate a massage )

- Gestures - || Accepting

     The imbalance created by the weight of the TO on his spine was easy to ignore most days. It felt like he never really noticed how he had to hold himself until he laid down next to Charles at night, when his spine could relax into the comfort of bed.

     But then there were days when the virus would crawl along his body, active phases that kept him from doing much besides curling up and forcing himself to rest as best he could. Sometimes they could last a day- sometimes only a few hours. For his part, he was glad this one only lasted a few hours. Drained, but still alright and trying to will away the last of the pain.

     Hands on his back would have caused him to jump in any other situation, but telepathy warned him that Charles had come to the room before fingers found the aching joints. It only took a few minutes before Nathan was sinking into the sheets further.

     “Ever consider givin’ up teaching and becoming a masseuse?” The question was followed by a good-natured chuckle.

[futurepresentashes]

etherealstarr​:

Ava returned a polite smile, one that sent a few crumbs falling from her next bite. At least he wasn’t asking any more questions and leaving things be for now. “Plans… never work out well for me. But I’m jealous of your optimism.” With any luck, maybe she’d catch some of it, give her some kind of temporary positivity before everything fell into hell again. “How long is forever for someone who already has grey hair?” Another distraction, another tease. A segue into something that wasn’t about their personal maladies.

     Her words are melancholic, and there’s a gentle look, surveying her with a measure of empathy. Words were one thing, and he intended to live as long as he could. The world needed him- at least for now. She was young in comparison, only emphasized by her words.

     His eyes closed for a moment, gaze then flicking up to the sky above. The smile is slow, not resigned, but something close as he really considered the question. But the moment passed, and the tick of a smile is back.

     “It’s enough, for now. Time’s fickle.”

[futurepresentashes]

Les glaneurs et la glaneuse, 2000

[futurepresentashes]

The Ravage of Time

Glasgow, March 2016

[futurepresentashes]

badmusesdoitwell​:

🐦 – “Please don’t give guns to the kids,” she deadpanns… completely joking and going along with his Santa comment. 

With a little sigh, she steps closer to him and starts the motions to slide an arm under his, if he would let her. 

“Do you know what you need, baby brother?” she asks, quirking a brow as she looks up at him, side by side with him. “A night on the town. Drinking, dancing, relaxing… things we didn’t get to do much in our pasts. I promise, there’s nothing better.” 

     That brought further mirth to his eyes, “I’m only giving ‘em to kids on the “nice” list.”

     He allows the motion, though his arm seems awkwardly unsure of where to settle for a brief few seconds. There’s a questioning noise, brows lifting in a bit of surprise at the recommendation, trying to determine if she’s being serious or not. He wasn’t the town, dancing, relaxing type of man. Drinking, that he could do.

     “Got two left feet. But I’m willin’ to try on the other options.” For her, he told himself, though curiosity swirled in his mind. A ‘night on the town’ was just about foreign to him.

[futurepresentashes]

                  Happiness  can  be  FOUND  even  in  the  DARKEST  OF  TIMES,  if  only  one  remembers  to  turn  on  the  LIGHT… 

—

[futurepresentashes]

!MEME CALL!

Like this and I’ll throw some memes at you from Cable

[futurepresentashes]

@hopeslastchxnce​ said: “Time eats away at memories, distorts them. Sometimes we only remember the good…sometimes only the bad.”

- Witcher 3 - || Accepting

     His eyes remain on the window, watching the reflection of his inhuman eye in the rivulets of water that slid down the window panes. Those mechanical parts within shifted and spun as his attention focused to the rain.

     The book he’d been reading was abandoned to lay open on his chest, instead allowing him to lay with his head in Charles’ lap. After some adjustment, Charles had been able to continue working on reading, but finally had set it aside so they could lay in comfortable quiet for some time.

     He didn’t know what’d prompted him to speak of the memories of his parents- the complex feelings he had about those years spent with ‘Redd’ and ‘Slym’. Much of it was indeed fond, but there was still that seeping resentment at being unable to have a true childhood in some sense. Not towards them, but towards circumstance, or fate, or whatever one wanted to call the forces that directed lives. He loved his parents, all three of the figures that could claim that title, and most days or weeks or months he didn’t even think about it. There was more to focus on, and it was what it was- he was long since past feeling truly robbed. His family was still bonded across time.

     He looked at their interlaced fingers, then, unable to think of an apt reply off the bat. Instead, he remains in silence for some time.

     “Hard to change the nature of memories. Suppose if we could easily no one would choose the bad ones.”

[futurepresentashes]

amcricanidiot​:

“A few of my neighbours used the money to move somewhere nicer,” he shrugged at the question, buffing it away. When he didn’t have a job, because most of the people who tried to employ him did not meet the height requirement for the ride, he got bored easily. Boredom made the boxes easy to rile and generally excitable. It was a bit like being stuck in a room with two preteen girls who didn’t like him and were also on day three of a meth bender.

Patting down his pockets, Wade made an ‘aha!!’ sound and threw the hello kitty flash drive at Nate with a hum. He had found a thick pad of information on his friend in the cupboard that didn’t make a whole lotta sense but who was he to say it wasn’t important? Best to err on the side of caution so he copied it up onto his newly stolen laptop and downloaded it all.

“Don’t know if that’s any good to you, just looked like algebra to me,” the mercenary huffed.  

     That part made sense. Very much so. Loss of that extra income could hurt, he supposed, but being away from implicating incidents was probably far more valuable.

     The sudden movement and patting himself had Nathan almost subconsciously leaning away, waiting for what Wilson might be hiding in his pants. The tossed item is caught by the metal arm, the gears and inner workings hissing and whirring at the quick movement. He frowned, flipping it over. The pink logo looked familiar, he’d seen it before. Seemed like it was for kids, but that was par for the course for Wilson.

     He shifted, popping the casing of the USB carefully and holding the delicate inner workings between two silver fingers. Immediately, the contents of the USB flashed before him. He was almost surprised by the fact that it was useful, given it was Wilson- but then again, underestimating the man was starting to become a habit he needed to break. Something caught his eye, and the inhuman lens of his left eye twitched as he considered it.

     “Looks like our friend’s gotten himself into some different business without that component. Feel like putting the boots to some domestic terrorists?”

[futurepresentashes]

Nathan can sometimes use anachronistic phrases/terms/slang due to his time jumping. Usually it’s not too far off the time he’s at, but can seem odd, being that language is fluid and meanings change. Generally he’s fine but every once in a while he’ll use something that’s slightly dated.

[futurepresentashes]

regeneratingdegenerate​:

Before following Cable out of the cab, Deadpool leaned between the front seats and said a quick hello and subsequent goodbye to Dopinder. The mercenary ruffled Dopinder’s brown hair, he pressed his gloved fingers to his masked lips, then placed those same fingers to Dopinder’s cheek. Deadpool didn’t wait to see the reaction, he swiftly left the cab.

Deadpool pressed his back flat against the tallest, most rectangular bush he had ever seen and shimmied across it. He tucked into a forward roll and uncurled himself into a crouch behind a decorative pot that lined the way up to the front door. Next Deadpool crawled on his belly, he subsequently gave up the charade after a few feet because Cable was going to get inside and he’d lose him. Cable hadn’t even looked back to see the antics anyway, what a waste of his talent.

The grounds were neatly maintained, the lawn was trimmed, the plants were healthy. Wade was curious as to whether someone around here had a green thumb or whether one of the students just had gardening powers. He’d be sure to ask when he found someone of authority. 

Following on from the brief jog required to catch up to Cable, Deadpool slinked into the mansion behind his sort-of-friend, managing to clear the threshold before the door closed behind them both.

The mercenary deliberately bumped into the back of Cable.

“Whoopsie, didn’t see you there. Oh, hey, Cable! What a coincidence, I mean, this is a pretty small place, who would’ve thought that we’d run into each other here? At the X-Mansion? Of all places? Crazy.”

The moment hung in the air for a few seconds, he folded his arms over his chest. “So what’s new?”

This act would get old fast.

     He couldn’t see him. He couldn’t hear his mind. He was trying as hard as possible to not hear him pulling antics behind him. And despite himself he was almost tempted to turn around and tell him to stop. But he stopped himself- just ignore the nuisance, ignore it, ignore it, ignore it-

     When he heard jogging he was almost relieved. That meant Deadpool wasn’t pulling whatever shenanigans he had been before. But then he feels the ever so slight jostle of Deadpool bumping into him and he closes his eyes. Whatever deity, demigod, omega-level mutant, being from another realm, alien, or whatever else that he pissed off in his lifetime, he was beginning to become genuinely sorry for the offense. Genuinely.

     “Your arm,” he replied succinctly. His mind did another sweep, pinpointing his father and being quick to raise his own telepathic shields. Taking a... left would be most efficient and avoid either of them.

     Without prompt or explanation, he grabs the back of Deadpool’s uniform, effectively scruffing the mercenary without much concern for his comfort as he pulled him along. No chance in hell was Deadpool getting to flounce around the X-Manor and possibly cause more complications.

[futurepresentashes]

Civilization is coming and it means to exterminate us

a multimuse blog by Sofia fandoms: Black Sails, Mr Robot, X-Men, Asoiaf, b99, ginny & georgia and more to come!

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