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I know what you want me to do to you
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July 23rd, 2006

Warren/NStar dangerroom

Hey gang...

Angel and I have ulterior motives with this sentinel thing...need to get the winged one free and flying ASAP...

June 21st, 2006

A Word with Proffessor X

I know what you want me to do to you
It was difficult, Proffessor Xavier was surrounded by people constantly, and Jean-Paul wished to speak to him alone. So,  he hovered at the periphery of the room and avoided eye contact with anyone. That was usually an efficient tactic when he wished to keep people at bay. That and pretending not to hear if anyone spoke to him. He observed Xavier, noting the easy way the teens came to him, the almost fatherly attention he gave them. Raymonde Bellmonde,his thoughts whispered and he shook them away with a jerk of his head,and took a gulp that was more of a bite,from his drink. He stared at the glass.After the past few days, one would think he'd had a surfeit of alcohol.

A moment later, the Professor was alone...well never completely. The X-Men were always in attendance on some level. He stepped forward swiftly,reaching the Proffessor's side before anyone else could occupy the man's attention.

"Professor Xavier, I wish you well, today and always." Birthday wishes were so damn hypocritical, if you were going to grace someone with your good intentions, do it daily or not at all."I welcomed your invitation here, thank you." This too was true, it gave him a reason not to stay cloistered with his wine cellar. Legs wide he looked down at the Professor curiously. What could you say to a telepath that they didn't already know.

June 14th, 2006

Iris--GooGoo Dolls

And I'd give up forever to touch you
Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now
Verse 2

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Verse 3

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything seems like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know your alive


And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
His home was an echoing tomb filled with scurrying feet. Word had quickly spread amonst his staff...the Master was in a fey mood. The glittering shards of a crystal brandy snifter;cognac an oozing pool of amber was victim proof that Jean-Paul was in a dangerous space indeed.
The snifter had served him well that morning;as did the bottle of Le Cha`teau Beaulon,as he sat deeply  in the comforting shadows of the wingback chair. He had placed the chair in front of the massive fireplace large enough to roast veal whole on a spit, stoked the fire til roared threats of immolation up the chimmney and then set himself down to watch the blaze with his bottled companion.

One should never get drunk on cognac, too noble a liquor for such a gutter purpose. It suited Jean-Paul to commit such a desecration.

The wings of the chair were blinders, sweeping far forward and blocking all but the view of the flames before him, containing the heat, wrapping it around his body and filling his lungs with every breath. A personal front row seat into hell.He sat unmoving,except for the rise and fall of the snifter...and the motions to fill it when it ran dry. He stared, and stared, punishing his eyes with the glare of the flames and the congac bringing up a heat inside him til he began to sweat. A wrenching motion and his white linen shirt pulled apart at the buttons, which went skittering off with the sound of tiny feral claws running over the wood parquet.

Beyond pain and rage there is a high,humming place;silent and gray. It is the place reached by the Plains Indians at they dance through the rigours of the Sun Dance, that soaring plain of enlightenment--if you are seeking enlightenment. If you ascend there trying to escape your tears;your own sorrow will hook it's claws into you and drag you down with your soul screaming as punishment for your blasphemy. Jean-Paul knew this too and again, it suited him to commit such a desecration.

The cognac did it's work well. The fire raged, within and without --wordless and consuming.He could not name his sorrows. Naming them would summon them like djinn.Alpha Flight 'shead bowed acceptance of their fate. What future had they fought for against the Master of the World, only to abdicate their lives so willingly. He'd cried out against giving up in the battle, a cry he echoed later to those who should have honored them. The music behind it was the slowly weakening sound of an infant crying.
He filled the snifter to the brim then, crass and common he gulped it down til the burn choked.Finally, it balled up inside him, all the loss twisting just under his breastbone.
The wingback chair was flung across the room as he propelled himself to his feet and threw the glass against the wall with a tearing cry. He stood trembling, watching the liquid roll it's tearlike way down the deep wood panelling.Shards of splintered glass glittered where they had been imbedded by the force of his throw. Hinding his face in his handshe tried to contain the writhing sorrow and anger. His face distorted as he pressed his hands upward, raking strong fingers through the untended shock of his hair,pulling it. He held his head palms on his temples pressing as though holding himself together, turning to stare again into the fire. Flames danced orange in the blue of his eyes and there glittered in them a resonance of the madness that lived in Aurora.He managed to pull himself away. Someone would tend to his fire. He did not truly care.

It was more than the cognac that made his legs tremble as he staggered towards the expanse of Morrocan leather that covered his couch. Barely aware he collapsed, fully clothed and body tumbled like a hit and run victim tossed into a gutter. He turned his head to stare plaintively into the fire;he needed a reason to stop doing this. He could not bear this repeated damage much longer. He was becoming weak, and dissolute. Slowly eyelids fluttered closed and the perpetually tense shoulders sagged. More unconcious than asleep his legs twitched and his body rocked with several dry shallow coughs.

On the desk across the room a pile of letters lay neglected. Notes of sympathy from people he barely knew, organizations that wanted him to champion their causes, endorse their products or speak at their fundraisers. He had been using them to start his fires these past few days.
Jarred by the wind of the armchairs passing, a cream colored linen envelope with it's gold embossing and jet colored raised print proclaiming a higher pedigree than its fellows, had slid half way over the edge of the desk.
As Jean Paul's eyes faded closed, it tipped balanced gracefully on the edge of the desk then sideslipped in a glide to the floor. A glowing rectangle of cream it had spun once in the air before landing on a deeply red Burmese carpet. The return address on the back indicated that it was from Westchester and the regal wax seal below that was imprinted with a decorative deeply pressed "X".

June 13th, 2006

Northstar Bios

I know what you want me to do to you
General Information

Name:Jean-Paul Beaubier aka Jean_paul Martin
Nicknames:Way too somber for anyone to give him a pet name.

Height:5' 11'
Hair:black with silver streaks
Build:Lean,almost too much so, well muscled. Moves with quiet deliberation,as though he is contaning an impulse to run as far and fast as he can.
Defining Marks (scars, tattoos, etc):Silver streaks in his black hair,pointed  ears.Current griefs and what he sees as betrayals have left Northstar drained and sleepless. His face is pale,and drawn.

Dress Style:Civilain:Favors wearing black,and the darkest shades of blue,purple,red and green. Usually in well tailored and top designer clothes. Prefers a casual look to business chic.
Uniform:Midnight blue kevlar fiber bodysuit with white starburst pattern at neck and a compass rose starburst on his right hip.

Mutation:Power(s):(from Uncanny X-Men.net )utilize the random atomic motion found within his molecules to propel his body at superhuman speeds, possesses increased durability in his physical make-up to resist damage and temperature extremes, alter the phase-shift between his molecules and his sister’s upon physical contact, generating a radiant cascade of blinding light in all directions.

Human Skills: Background in gymnastics from trapeze days. During his initial training with "Department H" was given intensive hand-to-hand combat training by Joint Task Force 2 *training cadre. His mutant speed and sports oriented body control/reflexes making him an ideal(in their minds) stealth soldier.His eating habits led him to become a bit of a nutrition fanatic, and from there into gaining cooking skills.

Changes in Physical appearance:None at this time.

Weaknesses: More difficult to injure than a human, but can take any physical damage that a human does.Heals at a normal rate. Has been plagued by a persistant illness. Symptoms include a cough, decreased healing/recovery time, bouts of weakness after use of his powers that have been becoming worse over time. The higher metabolic burn during the use of his abilites requires fuel, so his eating habits reflect that. His bitterness makes him suspect the worst intentions from those around him, he is reluctant to give his trust.

Introvert/Extrovert: Introvert, as of late to the point of reclusiveness.The tradgedy of Joannes abandonment,illness and death became a mirror for him of his own life. Shortly afterJoannes death came the disbanding of Alpha Flight.This merely reinforced his growing belief that human society only tolerates the "different" when it is of use to them and when they have control of it in some way. He applies this perspective to both the mutant and gay labels society has applied to him,and see the abandonment of Joanne as the defining example of the "normal" world.

He feels that all his life he's be chivvied from one definition of who he is --to the next, all for the comfort of "society's" faceless mob.Orphan, mutant, Olympic Champion,gay,superhero--all the labels with their expectations that he feels he is being asked to meet. He wants to be accepted  but ...on his terms.Doesn't really know what those terms are sometimes.

On his better days he believes that people need to be saved from themselves, and that he was given his abilites to help them. This has him reaching out, and looking for ways to fulfill this need. Has a deep caretaker streak, once he feels attached to someone he puts himself to the wall for them. People have to work long and hard to gain his trust enough for him to drop his guard. Unless he truly feels and believes they need his help or protection.
Will ally himself to causes that seem to be motivated to bettering life, and despite what he sees as repeated  betrayals in the past, he continues to search for a cause to part of.Ses no reason why he shouldn't benefit from using his talents.

 He's very sensitive about his ears, and the best way to get a caustic remark from him is to ask about them.
Very dry sense of humor.Seldom smiles as of late. When he does smile, it's bright.honest and gives him a bright boyish look.Presents an aloof and vain exterior to the world,has a bit of a superiority/victim complex. Not above humiliating someone who annoys him.

Goals/Dreams: At this point, he conciously has none. Subconciously he never stops searching for the love and peace , the sense of fellowship that Belmonde had revealed to him as a boy. It's why he keeps reaching out;albiet dysfunctionally.
Quirks/Habits: Fussy eating habits, prefers to cook for himself. Distant, hard to get to know.

Likes: Skiiing, but has been avoiding that as of late. Has taken up snowboarding,usually alone. Has a stash of FarSide & Caivin and Hobbes books Likes frozen Snickers bars, a game of chess with someone who knows how to play. Reads anything by Piers Anthony,Blue Adept series his favorite, also Larry Niven. Watching Who's Line Is It Anyway?" tosses him completely out of his broody, shadow lurking moods. Laughs hystericallyMakes a mean lasagne.

Dislikes:Trite conversation, flattery, Fast food.Bob & Doug McKenzie, Wal-Mart, Reality shows, Lord of the Rings and Vulcan references.Brittany Spears.People who think they know the "mutant experience" "gay experience" yada yada. Stupid people in general.

First Impression: Aloof and emotionally remote, he comes off as haughty in his best moments,an insensitve super-critical SOB at his worst. His razor sharp way of speaking keeps most people at bay.Does not suffer fools gladly.

Philosophy of Life:At bedrock belief level, Jean-Paul is sincere in his belief that his mutant talents are gifts to be used to help people depsite the fact that they are ungrateful when he does.

Personal History:Canon history at Uncanny X-Men.net.
This Northstar's history deviates from canon in that I am not acknowledging AF issues #44-86, the entire Norse God story arc. I'm a card carrying Viking.....(elves *winces*)

Jeanne-Marie Beaubier / Aurora (twin sister),
Joanne (adoptive daughter, deceased),
Louis Martin (adoptive father, deceased)

Family Relationships: His sister Aurora is a constant in his life (willing to work with anyone applying for her regarding char relationships and alter this if needed) but is refusing to have contact with him over the way he left Alpha Flight which she saw as abandoning her. He will not speak about her at this time,but it's another raw wound in his life.

Discovery of mutation (include age and reactions of current family/friends) Age 13  Raymonde Belemonde, a surrogate father figure, Belemonde helps Jean-Paul work through his fears and instill in him the belief that mutant talents are "gifts from God".

Personal Relationships:Jean-Paul has always gravitated to people outside the norm of society, the circus provided a setting where his differences were celebrated even welcomed...but, only as entertainment. In the FLQ he saw his own struggle to be recognized as a being independant of expectations and conformity. He was rapidly dis-illusioned and felt betrayed by the groups methods.His sister, the only person that he has been able to maintain a long term relationship is fraught with chaos. He seems to live for her lucid moments.Alpha Flight has been reformed and broken so many times he has no sense of security there,at one point sacrficing their fellowship because of a rift with Aurora.

Sexuality:Prefers a male love interest. Torn between the need to control and a release from his emotional pain, he's been delving into the BDSM culture.

Relationship experience (include sexual experienceT)ime after time,Jean-Paul would dare to love only to have the people he loved destroyed by tragedy. His adoptive parents then Raymonde Belemonde's(the father-figure he can recall who loved him unconditionally),deaths left him equating love with loss and pain. He has formed friendships, which do not evolve into intimacy (Rogue) and Kara Killgrave's (Purple Girl) attempt to control him into being what she wanted him to be twisted his perception of love further.He has a tendency to be attracted to men he knows he cannot have.Unable to let his guard down enough to have a meaningful relationship has had a series of short lived, shallow and sexually based encounters. These  he conceals and then promptly forgets when they're over. As of late he's been cruising for partners with "rougher" tastes in sexual contact as his sexual habits have taken a darker bent.

Particular friends/enemies:Friends: Knows Logan from early Alpha Flight days (will alter for RP if needed) staying out of contact with Alpha Flight  members for the moment.

*In reality is Canada's elite Special Forces Department
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