Disclaimer: "Liking is probably the best form of ownership, and ownership the worst form of liking."

― José Saramago

Summary: Guess who's back! She's survived living with the Acolytes. She's survived mutant haters, paintball wars, evil hypnotizers, creepy apothecaries, terrible food poisoning. But she's not out of the woods yet! Teammate drama, boys and the one, most difficult journey that all teenagers must suffer! Read "Animation" first.

The only beta for this story is you!Any mistake found, please report to me. Grammar, plot, character…any flaw, I want to know and fix. (Almost) nothing is too small.

This entire fanfic is dedicated to FivePhoenix. Without her, "Animation" wouldn't have even gotten off the ground and she has helped me a lot with this too.

I HAVE RETURNED! And even though I should be writing Born Wild or one of my Respawn stories, I just couldn't let this go. Same updating schedule as last time: every two chapters I post.

For anyone who wants to know, this takes place about a month or so after "Animation."

Chapter 1: Doomed

"WHAT?!" a voice screeched from the Acolyte base. Inside, a rather strange (but not entirely unheard of) scene was taking place.

A young, brown-haired purple eyed girl was struggling to attack an elderly gentleman in a suit of bright red armor. The only thing keeping her from tearing him to shreds was an entourage of young, sort-of manly mutants. This included Pyro, a flame-brained mutant who lived for his codename, Colossus, a huge, truly buff, metal skinned giant and Gambit, the sneaky, tricky, silver-tongue, conniving thief who could blow things up with a touch of a finger.

"Now Ariel," the elderly gentlemen said in a pacifying voice. He was also known as the psychotic, mutant, metal-molding terrorist, Magneto. "There is no need for unnecessary violence. This is something that everyone your age must go through."

"I didn't!" Pyro, also known as St. John Allerdyce, piped.

"Da, neither did I," Colossus, or Piotr as he was called off the field added.

"This Cajun? In one 'a dose hellholes? Remy'd like to see how that'd go," the bemused, third-person-speaking mutant grinned.

"Perhaps, but it is the law that every child must do this," Erik Lensherr (Magneto) tried.

"As if you care about the humans' laws!" Ariel hissed.

"You should really spend more time around humans?"

"I've spent enough time around those animals!"

"Well," Remy drawled. "You certainly taught her well, Mags."

Ariel stomped her foot. "For the last time, I am not going to school!"

There are several types of anger. There's jealous anger, when you are so envious of someone it makes you mad. There's righteous anger, when someone did something terrible and that part in you that is called a conscience is rightly furious at this act. Then there's the I-hate-him-who-does-he-think-he-is-I-don't-need-to -do-that! kind of anger. John watched curiously as this anger unleashed in a terrible spectacle through this fourteen year-old girl.

"Now, cherie," Remy said uneasily.

"Don't 'now cherie' me!" Ariel snapped. "You're not being forced into a prison camp!"

"Never thought of it like that," Remy mused. He stopped and began to ponder this. Remy was always distracted by things he didn't have, like jewels and girls and logic.

"Then what did ya do before you came here?" John asked. "You had to have learned to read and write and stuff somewhere."

Immediately he regretted bringing this up as Ariel turned on him.

"Leave. That. Alone." She growled, glaring fiercely at him. There is a special scale for glares. At the bottom of the scale are the bordering flirtatious glances. Cyclops' gaze (without the visor) is a nine. Rogue rules the scale with her glare reserved for Gambit. This glare from Ariel ranked a high eleven.

"Leaving it alone," John said hastily.

"Why do you not give it a try?" Piotr asked carefully. "The X-Men go to school there and the Brotherhood is always around."

"Do I need to tell you that both of them are our enemies?" Ariel asked.

"Look on the bright side!" John exclaimed, regaining his nerve. "We get to go to town for back-to-school supplies!"

"Oh," Erik groaned as he passed by Ariel's bedroom. "Maybe this was a bad idea!"

"So!" John chirped as he hopped out of the van. "First on the list is paper. I know where there's lots of paper! I found it when I was burning stuff up!"

"Why does he always have the shopping list?" Remy muttered to Piotr as they fell behind the younger two.

"Because he threatened to burn my clothes," Piotr replied. "It was a deal I couldn't refuse."

"Here!" John skidded to a stop in front of a large department store in the mall.

"Floor-Mart?" Ariel read skeptically. "These stores will do anything to be like a big corporation."

In truth, the author wanted to make up a store that was like Wal-Mart but not.

"Trust me," John said. "They practically give stuff away here!"

"Alright," Remy took a deep breath. "Let's just start with paper."

"AH! It's HIM!" Two employees and a customer dashed out the door when they saw John.

"AH! It's THEM!" Carlos and Larry (both currently employed there) dashed out the door when they saw the rest of the group.

"This, mon ami, is a beautiful start, to what I am sure will be a wonderful day," Remy said with great sarcasm. Hey, nobody ever called him Mr. Optimist.

"Hey there!"

Piotr jumped back at the sound, John whirled around and Remy was reminded briefly of Abby's Apothecary.

A girl popped up from behind some shelves. She wore the traditional Floor-Mart uniform: blue collar shirt, jeans and a tag that said "Crystal." John's jaw dropped and his eyes grew as large as saucers. Ariel knew that look. It was the look he had whenever he saw Magma, better known as Amara Aquila. It was a look that utterly disgusted her.

"Hello there, luv," John said in his accent, purposefully making his voice lower. Ariel's eyes shot around to find help. Piotr was trying to pick up the display stand that he had knocked over. Remy was lost in a memory of Abby's Apothecary. She was alone with John and his new love interest.

Crystal giggled. "Is that accent from…?"

"Australia!" John replied hastily, snapping out of his daze.

"So, can I help you guys?" she asked, instantly snapping into work-mode. Remy also was brought forth from his memory.

"Oui, chere," he said smoothly. "We are looking for some school supplies for my nièce here."

"I'm not your…grrrr." Ariel crossed her shoulders grumpily. In case this has never happened to you in your conscious life, being used to get girls is a demeaning experience. John also glared at Remy. This glare beat out Ariel's quite badly, registering a whopping fourteen on the Glare Scale®.

"Wow, quite a group here," Crystal said with a smile. "Follow me."

"Here's where we have the notebooks and lined paper," Crystal told them, gesturing at shelves lined with the dreaded school supplies. Ariel's gaze traveled farther as she noticed the (gasp!) binders and folders. She shivered silently.

"Well, almost everything you'll need is here," the peppy salesgirl piped. "If you need any more help, just ask!"

With a smile and wave, she made her way back to her earlier position at the cash register. As soon as she was gone, John whirled on Remy.

"She's mine, mate!" he hissed.

"Please," the cocky Cajun laughed. "Anything this Cajun wants, he gets."

"I'm thinking you want your butt kicked," John snarled. "Come get it!"

"Guys," Ariel hissed. "We're in the middle of a department store! Can you calm down?"

"Come, Ariel," Piotr said gently, wrapping an arm around her and steering her away.

"Come on, Pyro," Remy sneered, charging a card. "Where's your fire? We all know that's the only thing that's ever loved you!"

John screamed in rage and blasted Remy with fire, blowing him out the window of the mall.

"This is nice," Scott said, slipping his hand into Jean's. They strolled down the mall, glancing inside store windows.

"Mmhm," his girlfriend hummed, leaning into him.

"Uh, Jean? I was thinking…and just thinking…that—"

What the X-Men leader was about to say was cut off as the front window of Floor-Mart shattered. Gambit flew through, landing on the broken glass with a crunch. His trench coat was smoking slightly and he shot a look at Scott. It was partly a what-the-heck-do-you-think-you're-looking-at look and partly a please-help-me! look.

"It's Gambit!" Scott shouted, raising his hand to his shades, ready to blast the Acolyte to kingdom come. Scott never was good on picking up signs.

Suddenly, his ruby-quartz spectacles latched onto him in a bear hug as trails of purple sparks danced in his eyes. Ariel and Piotr ran out of Floor-Mart, the latter covering himself in organic steel skin. Pyro stepped out of the shattered store window like a demon from the pits of…you know. His body was wreathed in flames and his eyes blazed hotter than the fire itself. His glower smashed through the figurative Glare Scale® as it automatically registered a seven hundred and fifty—the same temperature as his fire.

"Oh," Jean said. "This is bad."

THANK YOU READERS! Yes, I am back. I am actually staying in America as a sort of vacation…and regretting it. Seriously, can you spell freaking hot? I forgot how much I enjoyed writing these characters. The words practically spill out onto the page! …Oh, that was just my frozen Thank you again for reading, hope to share many more adventures with you in this story.

—Jangling Bacon