Here we go. Ever wonder why Betsy's Asian and her parents aren't? Or how she became a trained assassin? All will be explained. With hilarious results.
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The 'Hood House™®
A slow light creaked through the window of the Brotherhood member known as Omega's room. The light shined in his eyes, causing his to turn over to escape waking up. He felt a weird weight by his feet, and deciding that since the sun was conspiring against him, he might as well wake up. Too see a horse's severed head in his bed.
"BLOB! You're leftovers are in my room!" Mike called out as he sat up and walked to the bathroom. A few seconds later he stuck his head out the door, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "Wait a tic…" Mike said as a cold realization dawned on him. "GUYS!"
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Omega's Room
This is really disturbing…" Lance said as the Brotherhood gathered around Omega's bed, looking at the Horse head.
"Can I eat it?" Blob asked.
"Speaking of disturbing…" Pietro quipped.
"Please, at the trucker show, we ate horse head all the time. In fact, there are several good recipes for it." Blob explained.
"That is really to much information yo." Todd quipped.
"Betsy, what do you think?" Pietro asked her.
"Sigh… My clan wants me back." Betsy sighed.
"Do what now?" Todd asked as the Brotherhood turned towards the young woman.
"They messed up with the placement. The head should have been in my bed. It's their way of sending a message. A warning if you will…" Betsy explained.
"How very ominous…" Mike quipped.
"Wait a second. Explain." Lance said. "Clan? Message?"
"I guess I should go back to the beginning." Betsy said. "Sit down, this will take a while."
"But I have to pee." Pietro muttered.
"Fine. Go pee." Betsy said as Pietro sped out of the room. A few seconds later he returned. "Anyone need anything?" There was no reply. "Good."
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Great Britain, four years ago
"Bye mummy!" Betsy Braddock called out. The young British girl had long dyed purple hair. Here eyes had thick mascara around them, and she was wearing a leather skirt and fishnet stockings, with a black sweater. She took off down the side street at a light jog. It as the last thing she said to her mother. Crossing the street, an out of control car careened into her form, shattering it. Elizabeth Braddock was declared dead at 4:17 P.M.
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Some time later
"Where am I?" Betsy asked weakly as she opened her eyes. She saw an elderly Asian man standing in front of her.
"Konichiwa little blossom." The man said in Japanese.
"Who are you… And how do I understand Japanese?" Betsy asked as she sat up. She felt different.
"The question should be who are you child."
"I'm Betsy Braddock." Betsy said as she sat up.
"What is the last thing you remember?" The man asked.
"I was leaving to go see Jono Starsmore play at the Hammerstien Ball room. Then there was a car… I… It hit me…" Betsy explained, trying to piece together what happened.
"Well, that explains it." The man smiled.
"Explains what?" Betsy demanded. "Where am I? I should be dead!" Betsy shouted.
"You did die young Braddock. But now you live. Such is the fate of those who are meant to be Shinobi."
"Shinobi?" Betsy asked.
"Shadow warriors." The man said with a smile. "Ninja." Betsy caught her reflection in the mirror as the man said this. Instead of the young British Goth, there was a beautiful Asian girl with long black hair and a firm figure.
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Dear Diary,
It's been a while huh. Well guess what? It turns out, to my surprise, I'm a mutant. My power is telepathy. When my body died, my powers emerged. My mind, still alive and vibrant, felt the presence of an empty shell. Her name was Katsumi Takara, and she was the grand daughter of Tetsu Takara, shadow leader of the Ninja clan known as the "Hand". A training accident put her in a coma, her mind and soul moving on, leaving an empty shell that my mind found, and took hold of. It seems that I was given a new breath on life.
Master Takara has offered to train me in the ways of Shinobi. To hone my powers and talents. My parents think I'm dead. No one knows I'm still alive. Betsy Braddock has died. Now there is only the code name they have given me. "Bayushi No Shingen." The Shadow Mind Walker.
Psylocke.
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Back to reality.
"Whoa." Todd said.
"Yea. I trained with the "Hand" for almost three years. Learning their secrets and techniques. Eventually, I got tired of it. I asked for permission to leave, and return home." Betsy explained. "My parents were quite surprised to find out that I was a mutant. But thankfully, they're both drunks and adapted rather well to it."
"Got liquored up good?" Pietro asked.
"And how." Betsy nodded. "They've been in that state since they found out about me."
"Okay. Still doesn't explain the head." Mike added. "Wait, where the head?" mike asked, looking around for the horse head.
"I was hungry." Blob defended.
"Ew…" Pietro grimaced.
"It's sign. I was told when I left, that I may be needed to return, to assist the clan. The head means they want me back now, and there's no if's, ands, or buts." Betsy explained, changing the subject.
"How'd they know to find you here?" Lance asked.
"Ninja clan Lance." Pietro stated. "I think they now things."
"For once Pietro's correct. I need to go back to Tokyo."
"Well. I guess we're going on a field trip." Todd smiled.
"Huh?" Betsy asked.
"You think we're letting our sister go off to see a whole bunch of Bloodthirsty Heartless, cold blooded assassin's without us?" Todd stated.
"Todd. Did you even listen to what you just said?" Lance asked.
"No." Todd said, cleaning out his ear.
"Guys, as flattering as that is…" Betsy began before Pietro cut her off.
"ROAD TRIP!" Pietro shouted as the Brotherhood all war whooped. They then ran out of Mike's room to begin packing.
"They really don't listen, do they?" Betsy smirked.
"Huh?" Mike said as he was packing his suitcase.
"Nevermind…" Betsy said as she threw her hand sin the air and walked away. "This is going to be a disaster." Betsy thought to herself.
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Next Time on Brotherhood Evolution, The Early Years: Big Brotherhood in little Tokyo. The Brotherhood goes to Tokyo to help Psylocke with her former clan. But when Blob and Toad get involved in underground street racing, mischief ensues.
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See ya'll next time.
Descendent