I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS
Hank.
There isn't a day I don't think about her, it's been five years since the medicine went wrong and still every day she passes through my mind. I wish she would have stayed, but she left with them to fix a world that is cracked and needs just a tap to break. Her blue skin, Red hair, yellow eyes...Raven is her name, when we first met she looked to be a teen but after a few days of research I found out she was actually in her forties. At the time I was a mutant in hiding, other than my extreme intelligence not many knew about my mutation, unless I was to take off my shoes and socks at which point I would reveal feet like those of chimps. Large but not too hairy, my toes were more like large fingers which I used to hang upside down from things.
Since I was a child my parents would find me hanging from things and yell that it wasn't something a normal person does, but doing so always relaxed me and made the world fade away...the laughter of children and family members alike would sound so distant.
Perhaps that's why I liked her so much, she knew what it was like to be different; to be us. There are so many things I wished I hadn't said to her but my age and un-experience got the best of me. sitting here at this bar it just seems so silly that I thought of myself as such a freak, such a drama queen before the medicine I looked normal, white skin, blue eyes and light brown hair, I could pass as a human with no effort.
The medicine was made in part from Ravens' DNA, I thought her rejuvenating quality would help in our cosmetic problem; Little did I know it would be the end of human lookin' Hank. There was an error in my calculation and the elixir ended up attacking the normal cells and accelerating the mutant cells. Now my white skin was replaced by blue fux, my eyes are yellow, and I have wolf like qualities like canines and a bit of a muzzle. My rage is uncontrollable and my growls can be heard from miles away.
Now I live in the UK with Professor Charles Xavier, another mutant who has taken in the task of training and helping other mutants, his mansion has been turned
into the "School for gifted individuals" and is home to many outcasts like us. His mutation makes him a telepath, able to read minds and communicate through them.
Good man, quite knowledgeable and very patient.
The bar, or Pub, as I'm trying to get use to calling it I go to accepts me as I am and there is very little disguise I have to wear. It gets mighty hot under this fur, adding clothes to it is uncomfortable and adding a trench coat and hat is just unbearable.
The owners' name is Frank, built his pub not far from the institute, an elder man of about fifty-five, dark skin, graying hair and always a smile on his face, from talking to him I have learned he has a grandchild attending the institute. She is Thirteen years old, long blonde hair, green eyes and skin as dark as the night, we all call her Rapunzel for obvious reasons, her mutation has caused her to teleport from one place to another just by thought alone...ability which got her in trouble with the law and has been awarded custody to Charles. Thus the reason Frank moved to the UK.
I love Fridays, we all get out of the school for a day, some for the rest of the weekend. Looking around it makes it feel like we are normal for a night, everyone living their own Cinderella night, the kids at the front of the Pub playing the arcade games Frank bought just for them, while the older mutants play pool and drink beer not noticing the teens are sneaking sips. But I notice, and for a strange reason makes me glad they can forget everything bad that ever happened to them... How I wish that to be me.
"looks like someone wants to share a drink with you" Frank said to me as he brought me my scotch neat with a twist, under the glass was a napkin which had something written on it... 'Hi, thanks for the umbrella...Lidia'
If I could blush, I know I could direct traffic with my face alone. Looking up I frantically try to find her but the Pub is so full from the rain outside it's nearly impossible to tell anyone apart. Somehow I see her, sitting on the far end of the bar drinking a Grasshopper, smiling and gesturing the 'cheers' motion with her glass. Her long black hair soaked and make up starting to smudge, but for some reason it suits her, her skin is so pale for a second I wonder if she is a Vampire...of course her smile is fangless meaning human.
I see her call Frank to her, pays for her drink and waves a small shy goodbye at me, to which I wave back and wonder if I'll ever see her again.
Lidia.
I hate the rain, if it wasn't because human need it to survive I would wish for it to go away, now my one hundred dollar shoes are going to be nothing but mud absorbers, job interviews are bad enough without adding looking like a model. Why must everyone look so proper in the UK? this are one of the reasons I miss the states so badly, that and the BK Whoppers, oh how I miss those delicious artery clogging gifts from the fat gods. It rains so much here, there is no use in straightening my hair any more now I must look like a crazy lady running in the streets trying to find shelter because once again she forgot her umbrella.
Note to self:
Ductape Umbrella to wrist!
oh no, my shoes are slippery, now I must worry to not break an ankle.
Note to self:
Ductape Sneakers to umbrella!
I'm done running, my expensive shoes I managed to bring from America are ruined, my black dress suit is garbage, not to mention this long coat did nothing to keep me warm, and nobody seems to notice my tears running down my face. I'm invincible, I'm alone, I'm nobody.
"you must be freezing" a man says to me, and it's not until he speaks that I notice he has been holding an umbrella above me, warding off the rain and keeping me safe.
"here I have trench coat and hat, definitely don't need this" as he says this I see how beautiful his eyes truly are, if I didn't know better I would say they were yellow...and his voice is so deep, it tickles the back of my brain in the best way possible. "it's ok, I promise I won't bite" he now hands me the umbrella with gloved hands, gives me a small nod and walks away.
'Stop him!' my brain screams at me 'he's gonna think you're the worlds most rude American' where were you ten seconds ago brain, when I needed you to form words and not just stare. For reasons unknown to myself, I followed him...not to close for him to think I'm a stalker but close enough where I won't lose him.
After walking for another five minutes I see him enter a bar...I mean Pub, my American ways are still stuck to me. I wait about twenty seconds before entering, when I do enter I see the place is full, there are children and teenagers playing arcade, young adults playing at the pool tables and laughing as loud as the music playing aloud them.
and in the far right of the bar is him, the mystery saviour...the man with the lovely eyes, I can't wait to get to him when I see something my eyes couldn't believe.
He takes off his hat revealing a head covered in blue fur, his gloved hands are now blue paws, and when his coat comes off I see a man wearing a white button up shirt, a shirt that is covering blue fur! How is this possible?! At this point I start looking around, there are more like him, not exactly like him, but different. Some have tails some Green or White hair, there is one boy shooting pool while a glass of iced water follows him around and a girl is floating upside down trying to make a trickshot.
Where am I?! did I fall while running and am actually unconscious somewhere?! I need to calm down, I need to breath, and as if on cue the bar keep walks my way.
"what can I get you ma'am?" he asks with a smile on his face.
"alcohol." I reply with shaking voice, hoping I don't sound nervous.
"well we have lots of those, you're going to have to think of a name or i might just bring you hot chocolate instead" his smile never leaves his face, thinking deeply I remember a drink my brother once sneaked for me at a party.
"a Grasshopper should be fine" I say to him, and can't help but smile back.
"coming right up" he answers and mixes my drink, but instead of watching the bar keep I'm now staring at my saviour, he's in deep thought looking at the others, occasionally smiling, but even while smiling there is a sadness to him, like his missing something.
"here you are" The keep says as he hands me a grees creamy drink in a martini glass; "may I ask you something Mister...um..." I can't believe he has no name tag
"Frank, just call me Frank, no Mister added" he interrupts me and once more shows me
his pearly white smile.
"Frank, who is that at the far right? he helped me earlier and I would like to at least know his name" I ask with genuine curiosity
"oh, that is Hank, knowing him he probably took a bullet for you" he said between a giggle.
"Almost, definitely felt like it" I replied remembering how close to throwing myself to the ground I was earlier "you wouldn't happen to have a pen I could use?" I ask Frank, who immediately produces one. I thank him, take the pen and my napkin and write in it.
'Hi, thanks for the umbrella...Lidia'
I ask Frank if he could give it to Hank with his next drink and play the waiting game, in my head it could all be a dream and I could wake up in a hospital somewhere with Doctors deciding who gets what organ, but it's best to live a dream as long as you can , and to me this dream is worth waiting. about two minutes into the wait I see Frank mixing a drink and slipping the napkin under the glass.
"this is it!" my brain screams at me, why am I so excited? it's just the polite thing to do, not like I'm asking him on a date.
Frank is saying something to Hank, all smiles with that man, it must be a permanent thing, and now Hank is looking at me! What did Frank say? Don't panic Lidia, you can be nice, I smile and decide to make the 'Cheers' motion to him, he just looks at me which is fine, at this point I decide it truly is time to go, I have stalked this man long enough, I pay for my drink and wave him a small, shy goodbye, to which he waves back; as I leave I wonder how did I stumble to this Pub that caters to dreams, What are the odds that I would forget my umbrella, that I would wear my most expensive shoes to an interview that never happened, that I would have to walk under rain that never stopped, that people would not acknowledge my existence, and at last that this man with the beautiful eyes and sad expressions would stop to help me.
Many times my brother would tell me stories of life helping people stumble into gifts he called 'chances', couples meeting out of nothing, children being found when there was not a hint of them being lost, of animals accidentally helping their prey survive a hunter. looking at the umbrella in my hand I wonder if this too is one of those gifts. I'm probably over thinking this, old habits never die. Now I let my body go into autopilot and take me home to my one bedroom apartment.
Miraculously my body did as it was told and I was finally safe at home, taking off the wet clothes and jumping in the shower...but my mind was still at that Pub, looking at my saviour, watching his sadness. Why was he so sad? coming back to my body I realized I was in bed, wearing my warmest Pijamas staring at the twenty two inch T.V. that stared back from across the room, showing me the news from my loved America.
Tomorrow is another day, hopefully a rainless day, but then again there is nothing wrong with a little rain.