He sat with his back against the wall in darkness with the ruins of his room surrounding him. Bennet du Paris was not a happy man and even with a day to try and get his temper under control he was still a volatile mess of psionic power and anger. In the aftermath of the mission to Washington Bennet’s power had been a font of destructive force that was barely held at bay by his frayed temper. The amount of raw might at his disposal from the fear and awe of the crowd pushed his reserves of psionic energy to their absolute limits and he couldn’t trust himself around the others. Without a word he’d simply vanished from among the group and reappeared in his quarters.
The room he dwelled in while still in the general living quarters was as far from the occupied rooms as possible so that he could have peace and quiet from the thoughts of others while giving everyone else a modicum of privacy. Right now though it helped to keep others out of the line of fire as his powers writhed around him. Anything made of glass and fragile shattered as he accidentally let slip a minor telekinesis pulse plunging the room into darkness. His frustration at his lack of control over what had happened and over his powers welled up inside of him and in a fit of rage he drove a fist into a concrete wall smashing a large hole in the wall opposite the door to his room as more waves and tendrils of purple energy smashed out in the darkness breaking anything that could break.
Slumping down against the wall he had half destroyed Bennet simply sat there as his body finally began simply releasing the energy in his pool of psionic power bringing his abilities back down to a more manageable level. As his powers stabilised the Frenchman thought about the situation he and the rest of the Brotherhood had found themselves in. If he was being honest what he was doing would more accurately be called brooding and he knew that Elle would make sure to tell him that to his face even if she was standing in the midst of the rubble that was all that remained of his room.
From what he could see the Brotherhood had a conflict within itself. On one side you had those like Bennet that were willing to use force in defense of others or to achieve necessary goals. He was certain that the majority of the Brotherhood were of a mind with him. Unfortunately there were those such as Suvik and Spark that either enjoyed the violence that they inflicted on others and seemed to have no compunction about restraining themselves. It was maddening for Bennet how he could hear their thoughts when they were nearby.
Part of him simply wanted to put them and those like them down like he would a dangerous animal but if he chose to do that………. If he simply killed them when they hadn’t acted against the Brotherhood or for acts of cruelty that he simply suspected them of doing when they were off on their own then would he be any better than them. Simply killing them because they made him angry and his raw power dwarfed theirs was something he refused to do. Even considering it made him think of that titanic monster the Eternal Pharoah that he had held him prisoner and anything that would make Bennet like him in any way was unacceptable.
Bennet spent a great deal of time considering his options. When he had come to a decision hours had passed and it had been about a full day since the disastrous mission. The crusader knew that the status quo couldn’t continue and that something had to change. He was loathe to force a confrontation with his peers even if they set his teeth on edge and he refused to be around those who he couldn’t stand to fight side by side with. This left a strategic withdrawal as his only option. A parting of ways between himself and the others so that he could reassess if this was the road he was meant to walk.
Rooting around through the darkened ruins of his room using his sixth sense to perceive his surroundings Bennet changed out of his uniform and donned his travelling clothes. Well worn rugged clothing made for utility and not for creating a trendy fashionable appearance. His remaining clothing and the few items he was loath to part with that survived his local rampage he quickly bundled up in his duffle bag. Throwing on his greatcoat he quickly tossed his bag over a shoulder and his is sword now in it’s newly constructed scabbard soon followed. He picked up his folded uniform and considered what he wanted to do with it.
Simply leaving it felt wrong but he wasn’t sure if he should take it with him as he was uncertain if he would be returning. Deciding that he would give it to Hardwire
or Toad for safe keeping if they would accept it he moved to open the door to his room which promptly fell off its hinges and into the hallway. With a long suffering sigh the red skinned mutant stepped out of the darkness and into the well lit corridor.Toad