(A/N: Hello, this is Mei Zhen here again. ^^ I have been watching far too
many swashbuckling movies, and things like this may be the results of it. I
watched ''The Three Musketeers of Alexandre Dumas'' (1993 Version *little
heart* ) last night and I just LOVE it – reccomended to anyone for a good
laugh. ^^ Btw, YES,I have read the Alexandre Dumas book, LOL, just in case
someone wondered. ^^ Then I came up with this idea... what if the X-Men
were the musketeers? Lots of kuddos!)
THE MUTANT MUSKETEERS
Longshot D'Artagnan galloped on the horse, feeling the soft winds around him. It had been a while since he tried to scape that yelling dude that kept saying that he had an affir with his sister... as if he had nothing better to do! He headed to Paris to become a Musketeer, since he knew that they were the personal guard to King Warren III, and defended the honor of those who were not in the power. Queen Elisabeth seemed to favor the Musketeers, since she herself had been able to fight at their side thanks to her abilities...
The Musketeers were not ordinary. Every single one of them was gifted with a power that granted them a better chance of survival, or maybe an element of distraction in battle. And Longshot possesed the rare gift of Luck. It did not matter how high he had to jump, how quick he had to run or how many enemies he had to defend himself from. His sometimes insufferable luck made sure that he made it out of the mess in one piece and perfectly alive.
He knew from experience that it would not be easy to get off his rear end an over-zealous brother who was mad at him, but still his plan was worth giving a try. He rushed his horse to the nearest village, and of course the man followed him, in between enraged screams that by this time noone bothered to listen to or could understand anyway. His words were just a continuous drabble about something Longshot did not care much about. With a quick movement he passed under a windmill quick enough for it to miss him... and hit the other onem knocking him off his horse.
Longshot could tell he was still alive, since the screams only came in higher volume (if possible) and with more swear words against him. With a rather sheepish smile, he turned around to salute his persecutor and take off in the distance again, heading towards the city where all his dreams would become true... or so he thought.
* * * * *
A figure dressed in black stood at the balcony of the palace. He scanned the men that stod below him, waiting for what he had to say, with a single eye that shone red. The other one was covered with a piece of cloth, and a scar crossed part of his cheek. He had been obviously wounded by a sword and lost his eye then. But his gaze was cold and distant, seeing the men below him but not really caring about them.
As he stood there, the others started to get nervous. Scott Rochefort was the lead of Bishop Xavier Rochelieu's guard, and no men dared to mess with him unless it meant their life. Scott had a clear disliking for the Musketeers and what they represented. The men that he was looking at were exactly that: what he could have been and never was, a Musketeer. (A/N: No, I don't like Cyclops or Xavier too much. :P LOL.) All of them with their dark blue uniforms, staring up at him with the silver cross shining upon their chests and the sword by their side.
''You must wander why you have all been called here today.''Scott called, and the Musketeers stood in silence listening to the authority. Now, most of it belonged to Richelieu, rather than the King. ''I am here to inform you that the Musketeers are to be dissoluted.'' An echo of concern and indignation filled the gardens of the palece, the musketeers turning to one another for support against that crazyness.
''And who will protect the King?'' Called out a brave, rather huge young man, known as Peter Rasputin, Colossus to his friends.
''The Bishop's Guard will take care of that.''Scott answered coldly. ''That is all you must know. You are ordered to return to your houses and carry on with your life giving up the order of the Musketeers. In case of war, you will keep your ranks and weapons.''
''Then the King is already dead.''Muttered a man that had lived as a Musketeer for a long time, Sean Cassidy, known also as Banshee.
''With a single one that resists, you will all be taken captive!''Scott called out, overhearing Cassidy. ''All for one, and one for all.''He finished with a slightly malicious smile.
There was a second of stunned silence before the Musketeers realized that this time, it was for real. Scott's power was anough to divide them ,and all of them knew that unless someone was brave enough to answer him back, they were all lost.
Cassidy, at who Scott had been looking at as he mentioned this last part, sent him an enraged glare as he hoped that someone would stab him someday.He ripped off his Musketeer outfit and dropped it on the floor, along with his sword. The Musketeers had nothing to do against him... The others, believing in what Cassidy did, followed him and did the same. Scott glanced one last time at them and headed inside the castle with a slight triumphant smile.
Inside waited clad in red, Bishop Xavier. For him, the mutants, the gifted, were there with the only reason to protect him and those who believed like him. Not too long ago he had heard about a woman called Storm (as codename, of course) who had told the others what he called blasphemy about him. He wanted to rule over all mutants, be their only guide and their only point of view.
Scott was his right hand, and the one who followed his orders better. And right now, apart from the wonderful show he had given, he has castrated any plans from the Musketeers to end his ruling over all the Gifted. Only his guard, mutant as well, remained now.
''A great demonstration of power.''Xavier nodded, when Scott stood by him. ''The last part was specially poetic... All for one , and one for all.'' They sent each other a knowing grin, and moved down a corridor, as Xavier started ranting about how difficult it had been to get rid of them. ''But now, they are all gone...'' He smiled.
''Not all of them.''Scott sais. Xavier turned to him rather pale. He knew who remained, the Musketeers that often followed the orders in their own way.''There are left three.''
''Three.''Xavier repeated, with a slight smile. ''Is that all?''
''I have sent a patrol out to get them...''
''I hope they are soon in jail, Scott. You already lost one eye.The loss of the other would be most... annoying, for you.''He threated, and Scott lowered his head as the Bishop left for his duties.
When the Bishop left, Scott turned to a lamp where three candles stood. With a quick slash from his sword, the three candles were easily knocked to the floor by the tip of his sword... broken in half.
''Remy Athos... Logan Porthos...Kurt Aramis...''
THE MUTANT MUSKETEERS
Longshot D'Artagnan galloped on the horse, feeling the soft winds around him. It had been a while since he tried to scape that yelling dude that kept saying that he had an affir with his sister... as if he had nothing better to do! He headed to Paris to become a Musketeer, since he knew that they were the personal guard to King Warren III, and defended the honor of those who were not in the power. Queen Elisabeth seemed to favor the Musketeers, since she herself had been able to fight at their side thanks to her abilities...
The Musketeers were not ordinary. Every single one of them was gifted with a power that granted them a better chance of survival, or maybe an element of distraction in battle. And Longshot possesed the rare gift of Luck. It did not matter how high he had to jump, how quick he had to run or how many enemies he had to defend himself from. His sometimes insufferable luck made sure that he made it out of the mess in one piece and perfectly alive.
He knew from experience that it would not be easy to get off his rear end an over-zealous brother who was mad at him, but still his plan was worth giving a try. He rushed his horse to the nearest village, and of course the man followed him, in between enraged screams that by this time noone bothered to listen to or could understand anyway. His words were just a continuous drabble about something Longshot did not care much about. With a quick movement he passed under a windmill quick enough for it to miss him... and hit the other onem knocking him off his horse.
Longshot could tell he was still alive, since the screams only came in higher volume (if possible) and with more swear words against him. With a rather sheepish smile, he turned around to salute his persecutor and take off in the distance again, heading towards the city where all his dreams would become true... or so he thought.
* * * * *
A figure dressed in black stood at the balcony of the palace. He scanned the men that stod below him, waiting for what he had to say, with a single eye that shone red. The other one was covered with a piece of cloth, and a scar crossed part of his cheek. He had been obviously wounded by a sword and lost his eye then. But his gaze was cold and distant, seeing the men below him but not really caring about them.
As he stood there, the others started to get nervous. Scott Rochefort was the lead of Bishop Xavier Rochelieu's guard, and no men dared to mess with him unless it meant their life. Scott had a clear disliking for the Musketeers and what they represented. The men that he was looking at were exactly that: what he could have been and never was, a Musketeer. (A/N: No, I don't like Cyclops or Xavier too much. :P LOL.) All of them with their dark blue uniforms, staring up at him with the silver cross shining upon their chests and the sword by their side.
''You must wander why you have all been called here today.''Scott called, and the Musketeers stood in silence listening to the authority. Now, most of it belonged to Richelieu, rather than the King. ''I am here to inform you that the Musketeers are to be dissoluted.'' An echo of concern and indignation filled the gardens of the palece, the musketeers turning to one another for support against that crazyness.
''And who will protect the King?'' Called out a brave, rather huge young man, known as Peter Rasputin, Colossus to his friends.
''The Bishop's Guard will take care of that.''Scott answered coldly. ''That is all you must know. You are ordered to return to your houses and carry on with your life giving up the order of the Musketeers. In case of war, you will keep your ranks and weapons.''
''Then the King is already dead.''Muttered a man that had lived as a Musketeer for a long time, Sean Cassidy, known also as Banshee.
''With a single one that resists, you will all be taken captive!''Scott called out, overhearing Cassidy. ''All for one, and one for all.''He finished with a slightly malicious smile.
There was a second of stunned silence before the Musketeers realized that this time, it was for real. Scott's power was anough to divide them ,and all of them knew that unless someone was brave enough to answer him back, they were all lost.
Cassidy, at who Scott had been looking at as he mentioned this last part, sent him an enraged glare as he hoped that someone would stab him someday.He ripped off his Musketeer outfit and dropped it on the floor, along with his sword. The Musketeers had nothing to do against him... The others, believing in what Cassidy did, followed him and did the same. Scott glanced one last time at them and headed inside the castle with a slight triumphant smile.
Inside waited clad in red, Bishop Xavier. For him, the mutants, the gifted, were there with the only reason to protect him and those who believed like him. Not too long ago he had heard about a woman called Storm (as codename, of course) who had told the others what he called blasphemy about him. He wanted to rule over all mutants, be their only guide and their only point of view.
Scott was his right hand, and the one who followed his orders better. And right now, apart from the wonderful show he had given, he has castrated any plans from the Musketeers to end his ruling over all the Gifted. Only his guard, mutant as well, remained now.
''A great demonstration of power.''Xavier nodded, when Scott stood by him. ''The last part was specially poetic... All for one , and one for all.'' They sent each other a knowing grin, and moved down a corridor, as Xavier started ranting about how difficult it had been to get rid of them. ''But now, they are all gone...'' He smiled.
''Not all of them.''Scott sais. Xavier turned to him rather pale. He knew who remained, the Musketeers that often followed the orders in their own way.''There are left three.''
''Three.''Xavier repeated, with a slight smile. ''Is that all?''
''I have sent a patrol out to get them...''
''I hope they are soon in jail, Scott. You already lost one eye.The loss of the other would be most... annoying, for you.''He threated, and Scott lowered his head as the Bishop left for his duties.
When the Bishop left, Scott turned to a lamp where three candles stood. With a quick slash from his sword, the three candles were easily knocked to the floor by the tip of his sword... broken in half.
''Remy Athos... Logan Porthos...Kurt Aramis...''