Disclaimer. It's explained below why these are so important. Marvel are marvellous.
Author's notes: This is the first of a two part story. This is meant to be stupid so don't anyone take anything personally from what the various characters say. Any similarity to writers living or dead is unintentionally. Thanks go out to Smokey's better half, you know who you are.
He walked the unfamiliar school halls with his usual sense of boldness. No unwanted memories of detentions or school crushes flooded back to him. Perhaps having your memory wiped wasn't all that bad. He passed a couple in the hall, a regular pair giggling happily to themselves. They opened the door he just passed and entered. He snuck back to see where they had gone. Cooking 101 the makeshift sign on the door said.
"Isn't adult education marvellous?" he thought bitterly to himself.
He looked down at the scrape of paper in his hands again. Room 402 was scribbled down in his unreadable scrawl. He looked at the next door he came to. 306. He needed to go up a floor. After trudging up the stairs and checking four more doors, he finally found the room he was looking for.
M. T. 101.
He opened the door quietly and tried to slip as best he could but all the people in the room watched him carefully. He sat down on the rather uncomfortable chairs that were supplied and looked at his feet, feeling slightly uncomfortable with all the eyes on him. He could hear a few of the "regulars" talking in hushed tones. He figured he could hear specifics if he wanted to, but decided the less he knew the better.
Though he knew many of the people here, Logan had been warned more then once that on no accounts was he to act like he knew he anyone here. It was supposed to be one of those groups like AA where no one used their full names, just their first.
Finally the spokesman of the group, if that's what he was called here, brought the meeting to order. Though he couldn't rise from the wheelchair he was in, everyone gave him their full attention none the less.
"Hello everyone, it's good to see you all again. As you have all no doubt noticed, we have a new member today. Why don't you all say hello."
Everyone in the room turned to Logan and began saying their hellos, some with more enthusiasm then others. Some with no pretence of enthusiasm at all.
"For your benefit, my name is Charles and I'm the leader of this little group."
An elderly white haired man over in the corner sighed at this.
"Well as you seem eager to get started, why don't you go first," Charles said, a slight frown on his face.
The white haired man stood up and looked around the room. "Hello, my name is Eric and I'm a mutant."
At this, everyone in the room said "Hello, Eric" One of the guys next to him even gave him a pat on the back as if he had just told them a great secret.
"How has the week been for you Eric?" Charles asked.
"It started well enough. After our last meeting, I felt empowered once again. I felt that I had found my drive again for world domination, but as the week went on, I lost that feeling and just sank into depression again."
"What triggered the dive into depression, Eric?"
"Well, I had just completed my latest device, an upgraded version of the "Instant-Human-To-Mutant-Matic 2000® when disaster struck. Two of my henchmen were playing a game of football when one of their passes went astray and the receiver crashed into my machine, destroying weeks of work. Those fools, do they realize.." his voice rose.
"Now Eric, what have we said about blaming others?" Charles interrupted him before he got further inflamed.
"That I should be smart enough to foresee the shortcomings of others."
"Exactly. You feel let down by those around you Eric. But remember, you are the mutant master of magnetism. You don't find many of those around the place. You can always build another world domination machine, but you can't rebuild the friendships you have made with your henchmen."
One of the others nodded in agreement with Charles and said softly, "He's right."
Charles continued, "I think Eric that maybe you should tell your henchmen how much the machine meant to you and how much it hurt when it was destroyed. By explaining this to them, you can all come to a more harmonious existence."
Eric nodded at these sagely words and seemed content that he had said and heard enough.
Charles turned his head to face Logan.
"As the newcomer, why don't you tell us about yourself?" he asked pleasantly.
Logan stood up slowly and looked around the room, his face stuck between a weak smile and a frown.
"Hi, I'm ahh, Logan and I guess I'm a mutant."
Immediately, everyone in the room applauded his bravery. The lady next to him nodded and shook his hand, congratulating him on this breakthrough.
"What has brought you to us Logan?" Charles asked calmly.
Logan scrunched up his face, almost too embarrassed to say it.
"Go on, there's no need hide anything." A guy with strange red glasses said.
Logan finally started.
"Well, it's these damn fanfic writers."
This obviously was a common problem as a number in the room nodded and seemed to understand instantly what he was talking about.
"Go on."
"Well, okay. Look at me right. Other then the hair and the healing thing, I'm a pretty normal guy. Okay, now I'll be the first to admit I'm a bit cranky from time to time but no where in my bio does it say I have such serious relationship problems."
"Sorry" Charles said not sure of what he heard.
"Well, these fanfic writers, they're forever trying to fix me up with the young girl of the day. First it was Jubilee. Then last summer, all of a sudden it became Marie or Rogue or whatever the hell she's called now. And for those that get over the whole paedophile thing we move into the adultery arena with Jean. And get this, if it's not one of those two situations, then I'm teamed up with some new creation that will, I can guarantee, die in tragic circumstances with me choking back the tears and acting all manly."
He paused for breath.
"Look, It's bad enough that I have to be in a relationship where I'm probably three to four times the age of my partner, but the romance has to be this long, soppy, deep emotional thing. I hate to break it to people but I'm as deep as a puddle. I want to sit in a nice chair and smoke a pipe and discuss the topics of the day with people my own age. I just really want to be able to act my age, but instead I've got to act like a pumped up teenager. It's just frustrating is all."
Charles looked thoughtful.
"Though the specifics of each case are quite different, the problems with these fanfic writers are quite common. More then one of our group here have had their own problems with the writers."
Logan looked relieved, glad that he wasn't the only one.
"It's hard, Logan, to recommend a solution, as after all, the writers are pretty much the puppet masters when it comes to our lives. The only sacrifice they need make is a disclaimer at the start of their pieces and then they can slaughter us, as they feel fit. I'm afraid you just have to realise is that for some strange reason you have been picked to be fulfil the experienced father figure role in the romances that get written. It could be worse, believe you me."
Logan nodded slightly. He wasn't entirely satisfied. After all when he left the building, god knows what romance he was going to be plunged into. He sat down and tried to appear dignified as a young girl across the way looked at him with big doe eyes.
"Speaking of hard places, Scott, how's your week been?"
Scott signed and stood up. He spoke slowly, his voice tired. "Hi, I'm Scott and a mutant punching bag."
Rather then clapping, some people sniggered.
"Now, now, Scott. Have some confidence in yourself."
"It's becoming too hard to have confidence in myself. I have been killed once this week. Beaten severely a number of time, called a dork or some equivalent too many times to count and Jean has left me twice to be with Logan."
"Much like the previous speaker, Scott, you have a difficult role. People seem to either love or loathe you. It's just sad that those that loathe you are far more vocal. Remember, Scott, that in many ways you are the centre of the universe as far as we go. The amount of timelines you are responsible for is just mind-boggling. You've just to roll with these punches until they find a new punching bag."
Scott sat down, completely unimpressed with the advice he got. Mostly because it was useless.
Charles looked around at the group. "Maybe we should take a break for a while. Whose turn was it to bring the cookies?"
All eyes turned to Marie/Rogue/Whatever who was busy stuffing her mouth while looking at Logan who was trying hard to look anywhere else.
"Marie/Rogue/Whatever, you've not starting binging again have you?"
Marie/Rogue/Whatever replied sadly. "Ah have. He doesn't love me any more." And she burst into tears, spreading bits of chocolate chip cookie everywhere.
"Now, now Marie/Rogue/Whatever. We've discussed the fact that eating is not a substitute. It's not the solution to your problem."
Marie/Rogue/Whatever leapt to the floor, the sides of her mouth covered in chocolate. "It's that bitch. She's ruined everything." Marie/Rogue/Whatever got ready to leap at Jean who sat angelically with her legs crossed, not even bothering to look at the spitfire that was about to jump her. She knew that the young girl would be intercepted.
Marie/Rogue/Whatever aimed a large kick at Jean's head but instead it caught Scott as he got in the way of his princess. So instead of finding Jean, the kick instead landed squarely in Scott's groin. (Don't ask how that works physically speaking, it just seems like the right thing to do.)
Marie/Rogue/Whatever was mortified, Jean unworried and Scott balled up on the floor. "This is getting ridiculous," he said through clenched teeth. His face rapidly drained of colour. "I came here to get away from this type of thing."
Charles looked slightly worried. "Marie/Rogue/Whatever, be careful. His groin's responsible for at least one major timeline."
Marie/Rogue/Whatever knelt down next to Scott, "Ah'm so sorry Scott."
"Don't worry about it." Scott said in a high, high voice.
"Ah can't do anything right." Marie/Rogue/Whatever cried and she ran from the room.
Charles almost stood up until he remembered he couldn't. "Someone ought to go after her."
All eyes looked at Logan.
"Forget it, I'm thinking about my pension plan."
Charles shook his head and signed.
To be continued… After all, there's a few more left in the circle of death yet.