Where One Is Two.
Prolouge.
Where does one start? Generally one would start at the beginning. Yes this is where most would start. I find myself, my being. Without one. No-one here can find where I came from. Simply found, among the outskirts of where they lived.
I write this in hope to further understand what has happened to me, perhaps I shall see Patterns in what has happened! Patterns I have so far missed.
If you find yourself reading this, you may think me insane! Well, I say go grab an ale and sit, sit down to read a tale beyond what you think possible.
Chapter 1.
School, safehouse, home, mansion, these are only a few words that could be applied to Xaviers school for the gifted could be called. Logan, also known as the Wolverine, called it none of these.
To him it was simply another place he could rest for a night.
If he could ever sleep. Growling, after yet another dream, uh, nightmare, of that place. The needles, the drills, that tank. He lifted his head and rolled off the too soft matress. Feet hitting the carpeted floor he threw on a pair of jeans and shirt, grabbed a cheap cigar and lighter. He may not have cared if where he smoked, some did though... and when the guy who owned the place was psychic. He didn't need the trouble.
Moving through the mansion without barely a sound. Given his size and weight, you would barely believe it. You see the Wolverine was a large person, intimidating even. Arm muscles nearing the size of my legs and while short, only coming in at 5'3" he was not one to be messed with lightly, you would be able to simply tell. This, was a man who knew how to kill! And one could tell just by observing him, even someone untrained in these things... As I was. Knew, not to engage this guy in combat. Unless of course you were already dead... and weighing in at 300 lbs, was impossible for a normal man to move him.
As he moved through the mansion and coming close to the kitchens, his exiting destination. The man stopped as he caught a glimpse of himself in one of the mirrors around the mansion. Stopping to look at himself, hair ragged, beard rough and un-trimmed, still sleepy eyed and exhausted from a nights sleep not worth sleeping through. The perfect mixture of dashing rogue and animalistic human, he might have seen this within himself if he had actually cared. Though maybe the fact that he didn't simply enhanced his already naturally good looks.
Leaving the mansion through the kitchens, a quick look at the microwaves confimed it was early, too early. The sun would not be up for another 2 hours at least. Lighting up as he entered the open early morning air he took a long drag and released the smoke from his lungs. The day after tommorow he would leave for Alkali Lake.
The Proffessor, also known as Charles Xaviar. He was the founder and Owner of the Mansion turned school. He was also one of two Psychics or Telepaths, as they preffered, that lived here. While digging around in Logans mind the Proffesor, had found something relating to his past there. Maybe where he had lost his memory.
The Mansion, while too much for Logans, somewhat Spartan living style, he had to admit. There was a certain air of peace, innocence, about the school... if one ignored the training room, the amory, the above military grade jet, the suits of anit-vigilents. Oh. And the bascketball court.
Yup, the basketball court really needed to be ignored. The basketball court was just above the room in which the sleek black jet laid. It was retracted when the jet needed to fly off.
That is ofcourse, not to say that the place was all that bad. The teens of the school did afterall need somewhere to blow off some steam and where better than an arena where friendly rivarly could bloom.
You may have, of course, guessed by now that this was not just a school of the gifted as the schools name may suggest. It is a place of what humanity calls, Mutants. Mutants. Uttered by some like a disease that should be wiped from the face of the good god given earth. Forgive me, I must seem to be endorsing the christian faith here... nothing could be further from the truth! Everyone must find there own belief, as I belief in balance. I am getting ahead of the story and facts though.
Mutants. A genetict deviation away from the homosapien race, Humans. That have developed "Powers" if you will. Some, only helpful. Some, on the other hand, could lead to the most usefull of uses... if one could remove the damn sideeffects. Some used their mutations to further their own goals... some the wellbeing of all... some to further the so called "Supremency" of mutants.
Now you may be asking yourself about Logans own mutation, or... better yet, if he had one. The answer would be yes. He did have a mutation. One of the few usefull ones, although a curse, in it's own right. You see Logan could heal fast enough that he could survive gun shots to the head, having his torso ripped open... the list is endless. Given this, what many would consider a habit of the worst kind, smoking, was but another way to pass the time for the Wolverine. It couldn't kill him, no-one is sure wether or not anything can kill the mutant.
This though is where our story starts. You see the night, this night that our story starts upon, was a night where the wind stirred only ever so slightly. Upon a scent. He, The Wolverine, found me. Upon this scent it lead him towards my deathly weak body hidden at the edges of the woods, where the fences of the school laid.
He found someone on the cusp of adulthood, laying prone above the deadened leaves and twigs. This is where he found me.
Yeah. me.
"Hey, Kid, You alright? What are you doing out here?" He called to my prone body. He stalked towards me like a hunter hunting its prey, towards me slowly circling my body. Making sure that I was alone, that this was no ambush. The man may have been rash, but he was not idiotic. Leaning down to further check my body, he sniffed, he listened, and finally.
Well.
By now. You may wonder, how I know what Logan did before finding me? The answer is more simple than you would like to think. He touched me. A single touch. Now remember when I said that some mutations had bad side effects. Mine, was that I drained the person of their, well, "Essence" Is perhaps one way to describe it, "Power" "Being" "Soul" are others. When logan touched the vien on my neck, to check my blood was flowing properly. He was of course already aware that my heart was beating due to his exceptional hearing... some theorise that this is again due to his own mutation. His hand contracted, due to the shock, around my throat!
And.
Awarness.
I became Aware of all that was around me!
A dying man.
An area I had never seen before.
The light wind whistling between the trees.
The sun kissing the horizion, for yes. It had taken him that long to find me.
And finally, a redheaded woman screaming.
At ME!
Perhaps this is one of the more shameful parts of my life. I did what my instincts told me to.
I ran.
And I ran straight into where my gut told me was safest. Out of the woods and straight into an open field with a mansion staring me straight in the face. A man in a wheel chair, looking at me, with such an emotion of interest. I did something I have had yet to do or yet to do again.
I Fainted.
Dreams.
They are something that can be explained, from what I know of other people, a dream is something that the subconcious basically cooks up that we want. hm... I have never had this. Mine, are more like memories, faded by time, clear! Yet open for interpretation upon the views you may hold.
And dream this night I did. If one could call it a dream. I Dreamed of a man being strapped underwater while needles and drills bore into his skin. Giving excruitating pain upon his, no my, body, simply to make his skelatel structure stronger. Many men stood over that procedding. As the dream faded. I became aware of a single image. A Dome. A dome upon a dome.
And I Awoke.
I awoke that day groggy and confused, As I became aware of my surronding I realsied I was in very white room.
"Ah, You're awake." I looked over to see the very same redheaded woman from last night. The one that was screaming at me. " Now if you will just hold still for one moment."
I looked at her as she held up a needle. "This won't hurt a bit. I promise."
As she came towards me I moved backwards grabbing whatever I could, I ended up holding a Mouth mirror, as I later found out. At the time, I did not care! I could find at least 5 ways to kill this person with it... This was close enough for me.
"Keep that away from me!" I said, trying to keep my feeling's under control. This one needle had me scared half to death, already the memory of the dream was resurfacing.
"Okay. See? It's down. See? If you don't mind though I would like to ask some questions... If that's okay?" She had said this professionally. All the while putting the needle down on a table and sitting down on a chair.
"NO!"
"Pardon?"
"Remove it." I repied.
"Remove what?"
"The... That... THING!" I yelled pointing but not being able to look at the needle.
Eyes shut tight but listening intently I was surprised when I heard the door open. Door? I didn't see a door... of course there must be one... but why didn't I
"There it's gone! Now if I may ask... What's you're name?" She asked interupting my thoughts.
I looked up. And for the first time, took in the redheaded beauty in front of me. The soft, yet sharpely defined facial features, her brown eyes held in a compassionate gaze. While she may not have been a model, she did have a womens figure, perfect hourglass frame, just enough muscles that she could defend herself while still being soft to the touch... it disgusted me.
"My name is..."
"Yes?" She said, as I stared off into the distance.
"I Don't Know." quietely just realising the fact.
"Pardon?" I am sure, looking back she heard correctely though understandably shocked.
"I DON'T KNOW... I DON'T BLOODY WELL KNOW! WHY DON'T I KNOW MY OWN! NAME!? SCHEISSE!" I cried out aloud, as the tears began to fall. And as they fell I realised that these people who may very well know me better than myself, basically knew me better... I cried and I find no shame in this. Personally I find this to be a source of pride. I barely lashed out, I didn't hurt anyone, psychically, and definitely not on purpose mentally. I simply cried. Curled into a ball and cried.
It wasn't just that though. I realised I knew nothing of my past. The furthest into the past I knew was waking up last night to go out for a cigar. AND THAT WASN'T EVEN MY BLOODY MEMORY! As I soon came to realise. The grass had been crisp that night the wind light and the night fair. There was more though as I slowly lifted my head to stare at the tool in my hand. How did I know at least five ways to kill, Kill! Someone with this this blunted piece of scheisse!
I became semi-aware when I heard footsteps less than A metre away from me. By this time I had huddled against a wall as I cried. She sat down near me and tried to offer comfort. I ignored it. While this was all due course for shock, and while she was acting as a proffesional... another question to how I knew this at the time added upon my many growing queries. She rubbed my back obviously trying to comfort my mentally shocked being. Again, I ignored it... It was not until she touched my bare skin, that all went to hell again! Like that man... Scheisse! That MAN I HAD KILLED! But how? HOW!
I felt a presence touch my mind. The touch had not lasted more than I second and all of that had went through my mind... and a name, Jean, It wasn't mine. It was hers. Jean, French. The most perculiar of these thoughts though was the colour... grey.
"Jean, jean, Jane, Grey? Jean? Jean Grey" I asked her. Nodding only weakly to myself. But still questioning her.
She nodded lightly.
"Your name?" I queried.
Again a nod... however weak.
Taking a deep breathe I asked, "What just happened?"
"Mutatio... li... rogue... prof. ... will...help." I was confused by this. Rogue? Profeesor? Help? Every bloody answer I got was just bloody well raising a hundred more questions.
"Sliding doors that open them selves? What is this place?" I asked her. As I turned around... I saw that that while yes. The doors had opened themselves, they had opened to allow a man in. A bald man, in a wheelchair. How did I know it was a wheel chair?
"My name is Charles Xavier. I have no doubt, you have many questions." The man said to me calmly. Like he had all the time in the world.
"Yeah... I do..." I trailed off as I saw the same man as last night walk through behind the man now identitfied as Charles Xavier. I stepped back again blindly grabbing for some form of a weapon... instinct! It's a curse and a blessing. I was blessed with something a bit more useful this time. A scapel. Holding it just incase I found enough strength to ask the man, "Who are you? You're DEAD! I SAW YOU DIE! HOW ARE YOU HERE?!" Yelling at more than I would have liked, shocked in more than one way.
I was sure this man had died.
"Logan here is a mutant. I will have to ask you to calm down." I heard from everywhere and nowhere. "We are here to help." Xavier said, calmly, "Do you know what a Mutant is? Do you remember anything at all?"
"Mutant, mutant..." I said, something just beyond my grasp words, pictures, feeling, phrases and knowledge flitting somewhere in my mind... then, a hint of cigar smoke, probably soaked into the bearded man's clothing.
I Screamed. No not some scream of frustration or saddness or despair. This, was a scream of pain! I felt my entire mind open upon itself. 15 years worth of knowledge flooded my mind, memories not mine. Pain, torture, fights and bars, claws of metal. Everything this man was, the essence of his being inside my head. Taking over every thought I had everything I was.
It wouldn't stop. I opened my eyes to see myself. I had a clone? No. the man infront of me was me! There was only room enough in the world for one. So I lashed out at him. Scapel going straight for eyes. Until he grabbed my hand, my right hand, broken! With nothing more than a twist of a wrist.
Dropping the scapel, I struck my claws into his stomache! And moved back, I had claws! When, did I get claws.
Still moving back I examined them, rounded intopoints at the end of them, bone. I looked back up to see the man walking towards me! Crack! There was my wrist mending itself, my healing factor fixing the cracks and torn muscles in my hand. Extending the claws in my right hand now I felt the dull pain of them sliding out. As it always was. My skin healing around the bone claws. He/ other me looked surprised!
My memories from this moment are faded. All that were present belief I went into a kind of rage... Blood rage, berserker, I have heard many names for it since... and I am sure I will hear more. This moment thoguh was the last clear moment I have of this event.
Groaning as I tried to lift my head and open my eyes I looked around. Charles, The redhead... Jean? And Logan were all there. The room in a mess. Walls bent in from impacts... probably me being thrown around, the amount of dull pain my body was in certaintly attested to it.
They all looked at me, Jean? The redhead, looked with a bit of fear and awe. Logan was wary. Understandably, even in my state at the time. I could understand it. The most surprising though, was Xavier, he looked contemplative.
"Ah, you're awake." He said, "How are you feeling?"
I looked at him and only him for a good second or two before repling. "Like I was thrown about by someone three times my size... as if I was a ragdoll." I told him, no point in lying, trying to mislead them into beleiving anything else was useless really. I was stuck here. I knew that, may as well try and get some help. "What can you tell me? About... well me. Anything really."
Logan moved around to lean against a wall while Xavier rolled his chair forward towards me and started to explain this place to me.
"You, are currently inside the medical bay of my school. Xaviers school for the gifted. The rest of the world believes that gifted means intellectually smart children. While we have lots of smart young adults and children alike, it is a sanctuary for young Mutants. Some not so young either." He said, looking at the redhead and Logan.
"Now I must ask first. Do you know remember anything about anything?" He asked me.
"I believe, I have his memories" Pointing at Logan. "but It's like they're just just below the surface. I know their there and I can see them like an extremely faded picture. I guess that because I am speaking to you I know how to speak, it kind of just is though." I said slowly, making sure to get it right. "I also believe that I've had some form of low level weapon training that I seems to now be instictual... if what I was doing before was any indictation."
Picking upn the mouth Mirror again I looked at Xavier. "I know at least three ways to kill a man with this... I don't know how I know this. I just do."
"It sounds like you have something that is known as psychogenic amnesia or dissociativeamnesia. It is a form of defensive mechanism the brain puts itself into to deal with trauma, generally extreme. This is likely the reason why you don't remember anything about yourself or your past but have retained the ability to speak and function.
There is little we can do for you there, you should have a long talk with Logan, the man you attacked later."
I looked towards Logan, "Why?" I asked.
"Becuase I have something very similar bub." Logan said, his voice gruff, yet soft.
My eyes widened a little. A tiny bit shocked that a man such as that was without memory such as I was. The way he held himself made you think man knew himself... and well. To find he was missing entire portions of his life. I felt the sympathy flood through me.
"That must unfortunately wait however. I would like to know more about you first." I started to protest a little, going to say that he probably knew as much about me as I did. When he held up both of his hands placatingly. "You are a Mutant. I can see that, I have no doubt we both know around the same amount about you as you do. Though perhaps if I explained your mutation to you, it may jolt something in your memory."
Nodding I stayed silent and simply listened.
"You seem to be able to absorb, "Life force" if you will, of others that come into skin to skin contact with. Further when you seem to this to a fellow mutant you seem to gain their powers. It is remarkable really, we have only ever seen one other mutant like you. Her name is,"
"Rogue." I said.
"Yes, How did you know that?" He asked me smiling as if progress had been made.
I pointed at Logan. "I think it's you, a truck stop bar. A fighting ring... cage? Driving off and finding a young women hiding in the back with your possessions. Liberty, Mutants. Rings. And light... Magneto?" I said, glimpses of things just beyond my reach.
They all looked shocked. "And you..." I said pointing at the redhead, whose name I still was not sure of. "I think you said Rogue, when you touched me before."
I closed my eyes, trying hopelessly to try and make sense of what I was seeing. " That's truly remarkable. That you can manage to go through memories that aren't yours on little more than an instinct. I am not sure if that is a type of training or simply an instinct with your mutation but it is fascinating! Truly Rogue cannot remember anything about the people she touches." He contiued at my skeptical look. "I wonder."
"Wonder what?" I asked a little bit annoyed at his fascination.
"I am beginning to wonder wether you may be able to control your gift. You do seem to not only absorb the powers and memories, you seem to retain them. We did an X-ray on you after Logan... knocked you out. We actually did three. The first one showed that the bone claws you had were in the same layout as logans claws and you even had the psysiology of Logans healing factors... the second showed it going back into that of a normal humans and the in the last, you can't see anything different from a normal X-ray scan. Come, I will show you."
I carefully got of the bed, bench that I had been sitting on. Making a note to ask them how long I had been out, it did not seem that long. They were all dressed the same way and the room was battered.
When finally I reached the X-rays, they were as Xavier said they were. More bones in the first, the second, my new bone claws melding into my natural arms and the last would be that of a normal human being.
I simply stared at them. The pictures, that is. This was me! I had no reason to beleive they were lying. Why not trust them? I had no memory, anyone I had been was gone, I was a nobody here!
"A Nemo." My brain whispered.
I could be anyone I wanted to be though. I could be everyone. This blessing, curse, gift, disease... whatever you wanted to call it. I could be anyone and everyone, if I could train.
"Omni." Again a whisper. I would train. I would train what I was. All the while trying to find what had happened to me, just so I could put it to rest.
This is how I was born, reborn, someone with nothing only to move forward becuase there was no point in doing anything else.
"Omni et Nemo." I said.
"Pardon." Xavier said, looking around the other two occupants looked surprised as well.
"Omni et Nemo, My name, it's latin, I beleive. All and None. It fits." I explained.
"Maybe for simplicities sake. Simply Nemo for now. Easier to say." Logan said. I thought this over and simply nodding my head in acceptence, for now I saw Nemo. At least until I could also be Omni.
"Well than Nemo, perhaps we should continue this conversation in my office, and we shall call Rogue up so you may talk to someone with firsthand experience in your gift." Xavier stated more than asked. I again nodded my head. Some what shocked, and just coming to terms with everything.
AN: This OC has been floating through my head for a while now. I am looking for a Beta to help me finish off his character and to help me with this story. I have yet another OC to make, they though will not appear for some time. This chapter was more or less just for me to get an idea of how the character will work. How he would react and just iron out some creases. Please send in a review and I do hope you enjoyed my work in progress.