Konnichiwa~ This is DOJ and here is my very first AU fic! It will mainly
focus on Scott, Jean, and Kurt for now, but will eventually have more of
the other characters later, just to give my idea of what they're life was
like growing up. I've only seen the first and second season of Evo, yes. .
.the third season should have started today but they're playing the 1st and
2nd again for about the hundredth time (not that I'm complaining. . . but
when is Japan's cartoon network going to get up to date?) so I may be
missing a lot on their backgrounds.
Disclaimer: I, sadly enough, do not own any of the Marvel characters. . . though I would love to own Scott ;) and many of these ideas came from reading other AU fics such as Optic Red's "Engraved in Pink" (so go read it!!!) But the majority of it is what I've managed to pick up about the characters' pasts from other fics, incorporated with my own ideas.
************************************************************************
The boy sat huddled in the dank alleyway, his knees pulled into his chest, his hands pressed firmly over his eyes, his body trembling as sobs caught in his throat. A dull buzzing filled his head as weights pushed out on every side of his head causing his temple to throb. He took a chance, peeling open his burning eyelids only to find himself staring into the dim red mist. The pain was temporarily relieved as the trashcan before him went sailing into the brick wall, pushed by the force of his gaze. He clamped his hands over his eyes again, instantly sending the soaring pain back to his tormented head. "What's happening to me?" He gasped into the darkness, but for once in his life, there was no one to hear him cry.
************************************************************************
The girl's silky red hair fanned out on the stark-white pillow, bringing brightness to the hospital room darkened from worries and tears. Doctor after doctor had bent over this same girl, puzzled by her consistent state. In the two years the darling child had slept in the comatose state, she had neither improved nor worsened. Though every employee in the children's ward had grown to love the child, her current doctor began to believe he would be forced to give her parents a choice: either leave their daughter plugged to the machines, most likely continuing her life as a vegetable, or to pull the plug and let their sweet daughter slip off peacefully into an everlasting sleep. It was not a discussion he fancied having with the intolerable Greys, but they had another daughter to think of, it was time to let this one go.
************************************************************************
The small boy stared impatiently at the clock, 'It's got to be broken,' he thought. 'I svear, it has been five minutes since that hand last moved!'
"Excuse me, Mr. Wagner, but would you mind sharing your superior intellect with the rest of the class?"
The majority of the class snickered as the boy blushed deeply under his hooded jacket and face mask. "Uh, sorry, vhat vas the question?"
His teacher, Brian Hayman, sighed, "What is the chemical that causes the green pigment in plants?"
"Uh, photosynthesis?" the boy offered hopefully.
He knew he was wrong, however, when a hand shot up in front of him. Halie May's golden-curls spilled over her shoulder as she bounced anxiously in her chair, silently pleading the teacher to call on her.
"Yes, Miss May?"
"The answer is chlorophyll. Photosynthesis is the process in which plants obtain light and water to use for food and then produce oxygen." The curly- haired girl smiled smugly.
A bell rang out twice in the distance, signaling the end of the school day. Kids cheered, gathering their scattered backpacks, and shoved past the heavily clothed boy as he slowly rose from his chair. "Outta mah way, freak!" A burly ten-year-old knocked him to the floor. Bystanders froze as the boy unthinkingly shot out his gloved hand, grasped the bigger boy's foot, and pulled him to the floor. Was this scrawny, greatly covered, freak of a kid actually planning on fighting Fritz Rhermann?
Fritz rose to his feet in a state of livid rage. Hoisting the smaller boy up by the shoulders of his thick jacket, he steadily sent a blow to the unfortunate boy's face, his knuckles making a smooth connection, amalgamating with the kid's cheek. "I'll teach you to mess with me," a malicious glint flickered in his eyes, "Let's see what you're hiding under all those clothes."
More students gathered in the hall out of curiosity. No one knew why the boy always wore such heavy clothing, and now that they were about to find out, no one felt like being the good Samaritan and ending the mismatched fight.
"Wh-what are you?" Fritz had peeled of the boy's gloves and mask and was now backing away in horror.
The downtrodden boy stood there in shame as tears collected in his colorless eyes and spilled down his fuzzy blue face which he held cupped in his six fingers.
"Freak! Monster!" The kids screamed as they ran down the hallways, causing confused teachers to burst out of their classrooms. "Oh, bitte! Heiliger Vater im Himmel! Save me from this torture!" He closed his eyes, blocking out the image of terrified students. A strange sound rang out and the boy felt as though his body were being torn in two. As the strange sensation faded away, he opened his eyes to find himself standing in front of his two, very startled, adoptive parents.
************************************************************************
Miles away, in his New York mansion, a bald man's visage contorted in his sleep as he writhed in his twisted sheets. Rough hands shook his shoulders as a fright stricken voice cried, "Charles! Wake up!"
The man instantly sat up, his eyes growing accustomed to the moonlit room. Hi soft brown eyes shifted between the two occupants of the room; a short man with wild brown hair, chisled face, hardened eyes, and a sharp metallic knives protruding out between each finger, stood in the corner while a dark- skinned Kenyan woman with snow-white satin hair and lightening sparks crackeling around her worried face, shifted uneasily on the balls of her feet.
"Charles?"
"Logan, Ororo, I think it may be time to give Cerebro another try."
************************************************************************
That's the first chapter! I've already got the second one written so I'll be posting that soon~ But before I write the third one I need you to tell me this; should Scott already have his glasses when Jean is brought to the Institute, or not? It's up to you! Please review!!! (hehe it rhymes!)
Disclaimer: I, sadly enough, do not own any of the Marvel characters. . . though I would love to own Scott ;) and many of these ideas came from reading other AU fics such as Optic Red's "Engraved in Pink" (so go read it!!!) But the majority of it is what I've managed to pick up about the characters' pasts from other fics, incorporated with my own ideas.
************************************************************************
The boy sat huddled in the dank alleyway, his knees pulled into his chest, his hands pressed firmly over his eyes, his body trembling as sobs caught in his throat. A dull buzzing filled his head as weights pushed out on every side of his head causing his temple to throb. He took a chance, peeling open his burning eyelids only to find himself staring into the dim red mist. The pain was temporarily relieved as the trashcan before him went sailing into the brick wall, pushed by the force of his gaze. He clamped his hands over his eyes again, instantly sending the soaring pain back to his tormented head. "What's happening to me?" He gasped into the darkness, but for once in his life, there was no one to hear him cry.
************************************************************************
The girl's silky red hair fanned out on the stark-white pillow, bringing brightness to the hospital room darkened from worries and tears. Doctor after doctor had bent over this same girl, puzzled by her consistent state. In the two years the darling child had slept in the comatose state, she had neither improved nor worsened. Though every employee in the children's ward had grown to love the child, her current doctor began to believe he would be forced to give her parents a choice: either leave their daughter plugged to the machines, most likely continuing her life as a vegetable, or to pull the plug and let their sweet daughter slip off peacefully into an everlasting sleep. It was not a discussion he fancied having with the intolerable Greys, but they had another daughter to think of, it was time to let this one go.
************************************************************************
The small boy stared impatiently at the clock, 'It's got to be broken,' he thought. 'I svear, it has been five minutes since that hand last moved!'
"Excuse me, Mr. Wagner, but would you mind sharing your superior intellect with the rest of the class?"
The majority of the class snickered as the boy blushed deeply under his hooded jacket and face mask. "Uh, sorry, vhat vas the question?"
His teacher, Brian Hayman, sighed, "What is the chemical that causes the green pigment in plants?"
"Uh, photosynthesis?" the boy offered hopefully.
He knew he was wrong, however, when a hand shot up in front of him. Halie May's golden-curls spilled over her shoulder as she bounced anxiously in her chair, silently pleading the teacher to call on her.
"Yes, Miss May?"
"The answer is chlorophyll. Photosynthesis is the process in which plants obtain light and water to use for food and then produce oxygen." The curly- haired girl smiled smugly.
A bell rang out twice in the distance, signaling the end of the school day. Kids cheered, gathering their scattered backpacks, and shoved past the heavily clothed boy as he slowly rose from his chair. "Outta mah way, freak!" A burly ten-year-old knocked him to the floor. Bystanders froze as the boy unthinkingly shot out his gloved hand, grasped the bigger boy's foot, and pulled him to the floor. Was this scrawny, greatly covered, freak of a kid actually planning on fighting Fritz Rhermann?
Fritz rose to his feet in a state of livid rage. Hoisting the smaller boy up by the shoulders of his thick jacket, he steadily sent a blow to the unfortunate boy's face, his knuckles making a smooth connection, amalgamating with the kid's cheek. "I'll teach you to mess with me," a malicious glint flickered in his eyes, "Let's see what you're hiding under all those clothes."
More students gathered in the hall out of curiosity. No one knew why the boy always wore such heavy clothing, and now that they were about to find out, no one felt like being the good Samaritan and ending the mismatched fight.
"Wh-what are you?" Fritz had peeled of the boy's gloves and mask and was now backing away in horror.
The downtrodden boy stood there in shame as tears collected in his colorless eyes and spilled down his fuzzy blue face which he held cupped in his six fingers.
"Freak! Monster!" The kids screamed as they ran down the hallways, causing confused teachers to burst out of their classrooms. "Oh, bitte! Heiliger Vater im Himmel! Save me from this torture!" He closed his eyes, blocking out the image of terrified students. A strange sound rang out and the boy felt as though his body were being torn in two. As the strange sensation faded away, he opened his eyes to find himself standing in front of his two, very startled, adoptive parents.
************************************************************************
Miles away, in his New York mansion, a bald man's visage contorted in his sleep as he writhed in his twisted sheets. Rough hands shook his shoulders as a fright stricken voice cried, "Charles! Wake up!"
The man instantly sat up, his eyes growing accustomed to the moonlit room. Hi soft brown eyes shifted between the two occupants of the room; a short man with wild brown hair, chisled face, hardened eyes, and a sharp metallic knives protruding out between each finger, stood in the corner while a dark- skinned Kenyan woman with snow-white satin hair and lightening sparks crackeling around her worried face, shifted uneasily on the balls of her feet.
"Charles?"
"Logan, Ororo, I think it may be time to give Cerebro another try."
************************************************************************
That's the first chapter! I've already got the second one written so I'll be posting that soon~ But before I write the third one I need you to tell me this; should Scott already have his glasses when Jean is brought to the Institute, or not? It's up to you! Please review!!! (hehe it rhymes!)
