The X-Project

The X-Men experience first hand the powerful storms that encircle the island.



The Blackbird was already being clawed at by the winds, even a dozen miles outside of Skull Island’s weird weather phenomenon. The approach was both simple and terrifying; relying on the aerodynamic frame of the jet to minimize the impact of the violent storm, they’d come at it from high altitudes and drop sharply, hoping to pass through the worst of the wind as fast as possible and pierce the envelope into the calmer air below. They’d already run dozens of simulations and had packed the plane with supplies in order to repair the inevitable damage they’d suffer on the ground while the rest of the X-Men went searching for the lost British agents and the intelligence.

Scott was in the pilot’s seat with Rogue beside him. She wasn’t their most experienced co-pilot, but the scenarios had suggested that the violence of the storm would be severe enough that someone with enhanced strength helping with keeping certain controls level offered their best chance. Everyone else was either strapped into their station or into the crash seats behind the cockpit, there to ride out the flight down.

“ETA to the drop point is 3 minutes and counting.” Garrison said, watching the monitors as information flowed in from the advanced sensory array of the Blackbird.

"Roger that," Rogue responded, her eyes focused on the flight. Even though she'd done her due diligence, knew how severe that storm was going to be, she wasn't prepared for it. Hell, she'd only been keeping her flight hours to keep her license, not because she actually loved flying the jet but here she was, and she could only pray that nothing bad would happen to Scott. Reaching up to turn the comm off, she looked at Scott. "I know it's a Captain Obvious kinda statement, but this is worse than I thought it'd be."

Scott pulled one hand away from the yoke, feeling the Blackbird bucking and struggling against him as his hand dropped to his side, fighting the throttle as the Blackbird danced between the gale blasts, slipping like a knife between the blasts of air that sought to batter the plane into submission, a tight grin spread across his face as he dragged both hands back to the yoke as a gust of the wind caught the wing jolting the plane up as Scott struggled not to let it spin out of control. "Oh, this is nothing, this one time in Alaska we had to lace a prop plane though a blizzard. We'll be fine." He wasn't sure who he was trying to reassure, Marie or himself, but he hoped it was working.

Nica nodded, trying to resist the urge to ghost out and fly the rest of the way down herself. They had no idea what was waiting for them down there and having a powers freakout on her first mission would be a very bad look.

Logan knew that the combination of the straps holding him to the seat and his adamantium laced skeleton would keep him secured to his seat no matter what happened, good or bad. He still distrusted the jostling and rocking they were currently experiencing. Yeah, they'd all seen worse at various points in the Blackbird's history, but even with it's constant and regular repairs and upgrades it did nothing for the state of his stomach.

Tandy kept her eyes closed and was trying to be calm as possible. But her knuckles here turning white from holding onto the arm rest.

Kurt was leaning back as far as he could into his seat, gripping the sides just as many of the others were, but he didn't say a word.

"Heaviest part of the storm coming up." Kane braced himself against the controls. "Hang on guys. This is where it gets exciting..."

Xavin tightened already numb fingers on the arms of their seat, eyes wide as the plane moved around them. Turns out that the part nobody had mentioned was that their first mission was going to mostly involve dying in a plane.

Logan grunted and tugged at the seat straps once more. He'd be able to cut himself and anyone else free in case the plane broke apart. It all depended on how much warning they had and if everyone was in reach. All he could ensure was that no one died in the remnants of the plane. Everything after that was a question mark.

"I should've asked Clint to put a built-in barf bag for my mask," Miles griped. "There are some in this plane, right?" He was gripping the arms of his seat so tightly he was afraid he would leave finger-shaped dents in them. Maybe the easiest thing to repair, though, if this storm kept up. Not a reassuring thought.

"Ugh," Clarice was very much against not being her own transportation. The Clarice-Express did not have turbulence! Gripping her arm rests, eyes closed, she attempted to meditate. Or lacking that, since she didn't meditate, remember lyrics to cheesy 90's girlpop. That always worked as a stupid distraction.

The Blackbird was almost like a living animal now, the way it bucked and strained against him, Scott didn't even have enough time to breathe or think, his entire being focused down on the yoke in his hands as he feathered the throttle back and forward. For a moment it didn't seem like it was enough, the blackbird almost stalling, dropping in the air like a rollercoaster before Scott managed to force the nose down, the wind buffeting the wings of the aircraft as the chassis shook with a tortured groan, their nose drifting to the side. The muscles in the man's shoulders bunched up as he hauled back on the yoke, glancing over at his co-pilot. "When we get out of this, I think everyone here owes us a drink."

Rogue let out a shuddering breath. "I think everyone here owes us new underwear," she mumbled. Her stomach was queasy and she was surprised she hadn't thrown up, really.

And then another bout of turbulence hit and it was all she could do to keep her meager lunch down. "Ugh," she groaned. her fingers would ache after this. Glancing at some of the screens, she pointed at one. "We're gettin' close. This shouldn't be too much longer."

"One way or another." Kane agreed as he held tight to his seat.

"Sooner rather than later." Sooraya commented from her seat. She held onto the straps that tightly kept her to her seat, also fighting the urge to shift into her sand form and just go down on her own power. Instead she slowly recited in Arabic, using the melodic words to both calm herself and ask for help.

The funny thing about airflight, the turbulence wasn't something you could see and avoid what looked like a clear sky could very easily turn into the rockiest road of your life. On the flip side, sometimes it was just that obvious, the shaking stopping as the Blackbird burst through the cloud cover, emerging into a break in the storm, a ray of sunshine penetrating the cockpit as Scott pulled back on the throttle, spiraling the Blackbird down towards the island as he sat back in his seat with a soft sigh of relief.

Rogue was louder in her relief. "Holy shit, that was intense." Reaching up, she flicked on the comm. "Who here wants to chip in on a gift for our fearless leader? I'm thinking some new leathers to go with his balls of steel."

Jean-Phillipe pried his fingers apart from where they had locked down around his straps. He couldn't quite feel his fingertips, and he was quite certain that if he were to attempt to stand, his knees would not support his body weight. But at least he had not vomited. "All of my suggestions would be highly inappropriate and possibly get me in trouble with my fiance," he shot back before his brain-to-mouth filter had recovered.

Now that they had finally managed to get through the storm, Jean had allowed herself to relax. She was prepared to try to do what she could telekinetically if it came down to it but Scott and Rogue's expert pilot skills had pulled it off without any incident.

"Great job you two. A bottle of Jack on me," she said, then glanced out the window.

"What's our ETA?"

"Any minute now," Rogue answered cheerfully, the island now coming into view. How did everything look FINE now that they went through that storm? Ugh. Weather.

Very carefully Sue unclasped her hands from her lap reaching for the harness holding her in place as she gingerly leaned to the side, staring out of the window. "What's it the pirates used to say? Land-ho."

"I believe all sailors said as much," Reed answered calmly, untwisting himself from the harness. When the turbulence began, he found it easier to just let his body naturally move with the bumps. It allowed him to not really feel anything but now he had the unpleasant task of getting back to normal again.

"Did you know that Alexander Graham Bell suggested that 'ahoy-hoy' become the standard greeting on the telephone?" Hank volunteered, looking a bit green around the gills. Ephemera and random trivia always helped make him feel better, and he certainly needed help now. "We could all sound like sailors to this day had not Thomas Edison prevailed."

"At some point I need to get all of you guys to come visit Alaska, this is nothing compared to some of the storms we have up there." That wasn't strictly true, but part of the job of the leader was to give off that aura of confidence and unshakability. It would only be later that he'd get to let the mask drop for now though..."buckle up and hold on again folks, we're coming down to land, your flight crew today thanks you for flying Air-X, we know you didn't have a choice but appreciate your patronage anyway."