JM: Young tilted head closeup

cyndrarae

Rebelling against Reality since 2003

v14.0


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JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Mutant X: Blues (B/J) - 2: Something I can never have



Previous chapter


~Earlier… Capitol Hilton, DC.~
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Jesse wasn’t too keen to come back, in fact he totally dreaded making this trip. To the city Jesse was born… where his mother was born… great-grandfather made his first million. Didn’t feel anything like home though… ancestral grounds sure… to his politically active, socially relevant, stinking rich family. Didn’t feel anything like family either.

I still recall the taste of my tears.
Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears.


The Helix descended in stealth mode over the venue where the rich, powerful and the intellectual crème of USA had gathered to commemorate the sixtieth birth anniversary of the HGP. Human Genome Project… only the most significant genetic research organisation in the world. An institution that, in the last four decades, had amassed enormous political and social leverage in the new world. Adam’s first playground right after Harvard… a haven he later regretted to have left for the dazzling success and fame Genomex promised.

Eckhart was here. With what intentions, Adam didn’t know. To sabotage important research work? Venture a collaboration to provide greater protection to GSA? Scheme and plot destruction of new mutants all over the world? Mutant-X had to know.

My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore.
Scraping through my head 'till
i don't want to sleep anymore…


Noah was never around, and Victoria Spencer Kilmartin soon tired of waiting around for her husband to return. She eventually took her baby son and moved back into her dad’s mansion. Jesse spent six young years in DC before being shipped off to boarding school. In his last year of school, Jesse’s mutation made itself apparent. His eminent institution promptly packed him up and sent him back to his grandfather without letting him complete his education. All the teenager wanted was answers… and a way to control the phasing… the pain, the suffocation. What he didn’t ask for was grandpa Spencer’s taunting and humiliation. He was disowned for being “genetically impaired”… a black spot on the Spencers’ untarnished political image. Separated from a self-absorbed husband and only son, this was the city his mother drank herself to depression… then death.
Funny how a piece of geography can come to symbolise all of a man’s life’s miseries.

Jesse Kilmartin remembered the funeral vividly. It was beautiful… meticulously planned and extremely well organized. Clinical.
Composed, politically correct speeches, eminent dignitaries, camera flashes. No tears, not even in Jesse’s eyes. He felt nothing but silent seething rage, and he couldn’t vent that either since grandpa decided there’d be no time or need for the defective son to speak. Jesse stood somewhere in the fourth row not able to see his mother lowered to the ground and not giving a flying fuck. Nothing mattered anymore to the eighteen year old and he mattered to no one. No one except one man who stood in the shadows paying his respects to an old friend… and watching intently her only legacy.

Adam came for Jesse at the funeral. Their destinies entwined together forever, in DC.

Come on tell me.
Make this all go away.
You make this all go away.


Mutants… a shameful secret whispered behind closed doors of the project… anomalies not worth their time, energy or precious funding. The implications of acknowledging this new race of beings were far-reaching and extremely dangerous, and the world according to them, was not ready.
The foursome were probably the only mutants in the building… at least they hoped so. Wouldn’t do much good for the Strand to show up cause havoc.

Dressed to kill… men and women alike couldn’t take their eyes off Shalimar in red as she prowled the hall. Heck she *owned* the hall. Blatant and brazen… a predator who refused to lurk in shadows to hunt. She left no doubt in Eckhart’s mind he was about to face stiff opposition, no matter what he’d planned for tonight. Emma in somber black as usual… her wardrobe a mirror to the thickening darkness in her soul.

But Brennan had eyes for one alone… one who threw the occasional discreet smile his way, setting his senses ablaze. One who would try his absolute best and fail to lose himself in a crowd…

“Careful Jess.”
He sent over the comlink. “You spill another drink on a fourteen thousand dollar sequin dress and I disown you.”
Jesse blew him a big lip-smacking kiss and he blushed. Swirled sideways and about to ensure no one else saw it while Jesse smirked in amusement. Then hissed into his comlink not so discretely.
“Thou prude.”
“Thou asshole.” Pat came the reply.
People wondered why the blonde young man kept chuckling to himself.

MutantX mingled while on the lookout for suspicious agent-like specimens who might be working the crowd. Adam managed to catch up with old colleagues and lost himself in days of old. So many memories. Soon they drifted apart from each other, Brennan missing the soothing presence of his partner sorely.

I just want something.
I just want something I can never have
You always were the one to show me how
Back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now…


“Grandfather?”
Congressman Spencer paused mid-sentence at the hesitant, disturbingly familiar endearment. He looked at the group of respected colleagues and bunch of sycophants surrounding him… silently cursed his deceased daughter, and turned around to face the estranged relative.


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