Birth of a Legend
"Whoa!" Remy yelped at the transition from bright Australian sunshine to sudden darkness. He blinked and tried to make out his surroundings. "Hey, you homme's still with me?"
"I am," Piotr's voice came from behind him.
"Great," Remy turned and smacked into something hard and rough. "Ow!"
"Be careful. There seem to be many trees around here," Piotr warned.
"Ohhh, now you tell me," Remy moaned holding his nose.
"Ahhh!" Mastermind yelped accompanied by several violent rustling sounds. "Somebody get these leafy things off me! Where the heck are we?"
"We're in the woods, genius," Sabertooth growled yanking Mastermind out of the pile of undergrowth he had fallen into. His eyes easily adjusted to the sliver of moonlight and took a few experimental sniffs. "From the smell of it, pine woods."
"Oh joy," Mastermind grumbled brushing off his clothes. "Another uncultivated, inhospitable wilderness."
"Only to wimps and idiots," Sabertooth sneered. "Like you."
"Yeah, yeah," Mastermind ignored him. "Any signs of civilization?"
"No," Piotr told him. "But it is hard to see anything when it is this dark."
"I can fix that," Pyro grinned readying his pack.
"NO!" Piotr quickly armored up and covered the flame throwers with his hands. "Do not even think about it!"
"Yeah," Remy snapped at him. "With our luck you'll end up setting the whole forest on fire!"
"What's your point?" Pyro blinked at him.
"Just don't make any fires unless we say so," Remy glared at him. "Or else!"
"Awww," Pyro pouted lowering his hands. "You blokes are no bloody fun at all."
"Yeah, suffering from third-degree burns and carbon monoxide poisoning is so much fun," Mastermind rolled his eyes. "Has the machine finished clearing up yet?"
"Just about...ah, there," Remy watched as text appeared on a screen. It said:
August 5, 1692 A.D.
Québec, Canada
"Quebec?" Mastermind blinked. "This doesn't look like Quebec."
"Maybe it means the province of Quebec," Remy suggested.
"Great. That narrows it down to only half a million square miles," Sabertooth snorted.
"Was there even a province of Quebec at this time?" Mastermind asked.
"How should I know? Do I look like some pale, squint-eyed historian?" Sabertooth snapped.
"That is strange," Piotr frowned at the screen. "The machine is usually much more accurate than this."
"Maybe we're just on the outskirts of the city," Mastermind thought for a moment. "Or Quebec is just the nearest city to us."
"'Nearest' being a relative term," Remy warned. "We could be one mile away or one hundred."
"Who cares? Let's try actually finding the place instead of just standing here yakking about it," Sabertooth turned to leave.
"Are you sure we should do that?" Piotr asked. "It might not be safe wandering out in the dark like this."
"Eh, what's there to worry about?" Sabertooth snorted.
OWWW-OOOOOOH!
A pack of wolves was heard howling in the distance. "How about that?" Mastermind gulped nervously.
"Hey, I don't know about you blokes, but I'm just about nackered," Pyro piped up. "Mags waited until dark to drag us over to that inventor's house and we've been jumping around time ever since. I'm ready to sack out."
"Pyro has a point," Remy nodded stiffling a yawn. "We'd have to be on our guard against other people if we bothered to sneak into town. And the machine has to cool down anyway. We might as well catch some sleep here."
"Here?!" Mastermind yelped in disbelief as Pyro removed his pack. "You expect me to sleep on the ground?"
"No, we expect you to sleep in the dirt," Sabertooth snapped at him. "Just like the rest of us!"
"It will not be so bad," Piotr wrapped his large frock coat around him before choosing a clear space beneath a large tree to lay down. Remy unstrapped the machine and set it next to Pyro's pack. "The pine needles make a soft bed and it is fairly warm out."
"Says you," Mastermind shivered drawing in his coat.
"Aw, just sit down and shut up," Sabertooth growled as the rest of the Acolytes lay down. "I'll take first watch and wake one of you lunatics up in an hour or two."
"An hour?" Mastermind whined worriedly. "Why don't you just stay up all night?"
"Because healing factor or not, even I need sleep," Sabertooth grunted at him. "Oh sure, I could stay awake for a week if had to, but I don't have to!"
"Okay," Mastermind gulped nervously. "But what if a hungry pack of wolves shows up?"
"So what? We can take 'em," Remy waved.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about wolves around here," Sabertooth snorted.
"Well that's good to know," Mastermind felt somewhat relieved.
"I'd worry more about bears, moose, cougars and wolverines," Sabertooth got an evil look in his eye. "Wolverines...stupid, runty wolverines..."
"Oh joy," Mastermind whimpered curling up into a ball.
"Night, night Acolytes," Pyro chirped before drifting off to sleep.
"Night," Remy mumbled following suit.
Several hours later...
Piotr awoke to the gentle sounds of birds singing. Sunlight filtered down through the high tree tops, casting the forest in a bright, warm glow. Looking up to estimate the position of the sun, Piotr was surprised to conclude that it was roughly late morning.
Strange. Why wasn't I woken earlier for my turn at watch? Piotr wondered sitting up. Looking around, he spotted Mastermind off to the side propped up against a tree, fast asleep. Sabertooth had apparently chosen Mastermind to take watch after him, where Mastermind had obviously fallen asleep. Figures.
Seeing the rest of the Acolytes were still asleep, Piotr quietly got to his feet and moved a fair distance away intent on taking care of his first business of the day. After doing so, he was happy to find the land gradually sloped down to a small lake less than one hundred yards away. Carefully keeping his bearings, Piotr made his way down to the lakeshore in order to wash his hands.
This is very beautiful country, Piotr smiled watching a lone eagle soar above the lake. On the far shore he spotted a quartet of deer feeding near the water's edge. I wish I had a sketchbook with me. It will be a shame to leave... Piotr froze suddenly as he heard a faint cry coming off from one side of the lake. It sounded like it was in distress. Hmmm, what is that?
Unable to ignore the cries, Piotr cautiously made his way around a third of the lake until he came to a sturdy log cabin set back forty yards from the shore. Moving carefully, Piotr followed the cries to the far side of the cabin and quietly peeked around it.
"Au secours!" A short man built like a fireplug wailed as he lay trapped underneath a large fallen tree. Lumbering near him, deciding whether or not he was worth its attention was a giant brown bear. "Au secours! Quelqu'un, au secours!"
The bear moved closer and seemed on the verge of ignoring him until the man unwisely grabbed a stray branch and threw it, striking the bear on the head. "Va t'en! Fiche-moi la paix!"
HUUUR-OOOWWWRRR!
The bear roared and lunged toward the man, intent on splitting his head open like a watermelon.
"Urrrah!" Piotr armored up and dashed forth, tackling the bear head-on. The two behemoths rolled around for a minute until Piotr grabbed the bear by the scruff of its neck and easily tossed it aside. "Enough!"
The bear decided staying around was no longer worth the effort and accordingly lumbered off.
"Sacré bleu!" The trapped man gaped at Piotr in wonder.
Piotr reverted his head to its non-armored form before turning to face the man. The rest of his armored form was concealed by his large frock coat. "Hold on." Piotr grabbed the fallen tree and easily lifted it, being careful not to harm the man in the process. He then carried the entire tree and gently set it down away from the cabin. Finally, Piotr finished reverting the rest of his body before making his way back to the man.
"Merci beaucoup! Je vous remercie de tout cœur!" The man babbled profusely while staring at Piotr in amazement. "Vous êtes incroyable!"
"Uh, I am sorry," Piotr shrugged his shoulders in apology. "But I do not speak French."
"Ah, you are English," The man said with a heavy French accent. "I have done some trade with you. The governor say we are at war with you and the Iroquois, but you are friend to me!"
"Oh, I am not English," Piotr corrected him. "I just speak it."
"Even better!" The man beamed before grimicing in pain. "Aïe! Mautadit!"
"What is it?" Piotr knelt down in concern. "Are you hurt?"
"My legs," The man indicated where the tree had laid on them. "They are not broken, but they very hurt!"
"Here, let me help you," Piotr moved to pick him up.
"Merci, merci," The man sighed as Piotr helped prop him up against the tree stump. "Ah, I very lucky. Had you not come I would be much worse!"
"You have a point," Piotr agreed.
"My name is Robert Desaix," The man smiled at Piotr gratefully. "What name have you?"
"Piotr Rasputin," Piotr told him.
"I thank you Polar Basbutin," Robert shook his hand warmly. "Whatever you want, I give!"
"That is not necessary," Piotr blushed slightly. "And it is 'Piotr Rasputin'."
"Oh. Sorry Monsieur Bassbutton," Robert winced. "My head is not quite right. It struck the ground hard when I brought the tree down upon me."
"You brought it down?" Piotr blinked in surprise.
"Oui. I am woodcutter," Robert pointed to an axe that had been hidden underneath the tree. "I was about through when it break suddenly and fall towards me. I was surprised and tripped and could not roll away."
"You were out chopping down a tree by yourself," Piotr frowned. "That is very dangerous."
"Oh, I not alone. My son work with me," Robert explained. "He young and was standing back when tree fell. He go for help after I trapped and before bear appear."
"Ah, you run a family business," Piotr nodded in understanding.
"Oui. My son be big woodcutter someday," Robert beamed with pride. "We sell wood in Québec for building and ship repair."
"So Quebec is a city?" Piotr asked.
"Oui, not far from here," Robert told him. "That where my son go for help."
"I see," Piotr looked over at the tree he had moved. "That tree is very bent. Why did you choose to chop it?"
"Because it bent over my home," Robert said. "I afraid it soon fall on it. Yesterday's storm cause it to lean and bend over. Cause many other trees to bend too."
"Oh," Piotr looked and saw a dozen thick trees bending or leaning dangerously toward Robert's cabin. Several dozen other trees had the potential to fall on it as well.
"I hoped to bring them down before they come down on their own," Robert winced and rubbed his legs. "But now I not sure I able."
"Hmmm," Piotr looked at the woodcutter in sympathy. "I will handle it." He moved and picked up the axe.
"What?" Robert stared at him in shock. "But you done enough."
"Not yet," Piotr walked off while armoring up everything except his head. Stopping next to an eighteen inch diameter tree, he firmly planted his feet and drew back the axe.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
CRASH!
"Sacré bleu!" Robert's jaw fell open as the tree fell to the ground in seconds. Piotr then quickly moved along felling trees, occasionally nudging them so that they fell in a safe direction.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
CRASH!
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
CRASH!
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
CRASH!
In less than ten minutes Piotr had cleared every tree within falling distance of Robert's cabin. "There, that should do it," Piotr nodded in satisfaction.
"Phénoménal!" Robert had watched Piotr do in minutes what would have taken a crew of men all day. "You are a titan on Earth. A true Colossus!"
"Well, yes," Piotr smiled unarmoring himself while setting down the axe. "I think you can manage the trees now. I would like to help further, but I really must be going."
"What? But it my honor to repay you!" Robert protested. "Please stay and met my son. He would love you!"
"I am sorry, but I really must go," Piotr waved at him. "Goodbye."
"Au revoir!" Robert waved back as Piotr left. "Wow, what a hero!"
"Papa! Papa!" A young boy appeared from the woods followed by a trio of strong-looking men. "Papa! You are okay!"
"Yes, I am," Robert answered back in French. He smiled as the boy ran over and hugged him. "Though I nearly wasn't!"
"What happened here?" One of the men gazed around in amazement. "We were told a tree had fallen on you."
"Oh, it did. And I was trapped under it. And then a huge bear appeared soon after," Robert grinned while hugging his son. "But then a man appeared and wrestled the bear to the ground! Then he picked it up as if it were a child and sent it running off in tears!"
"One man did that?" The boy looked at him with wide eyes.
"Yes, one man. Oh, he was a giant!" Robert smiled. "He lifted the fallen tree off me as if it was a twig. Then he took my axe and cleared all this in seconds, bringing down a tree with practically every swig! He is the greatest woodcutter I have ever seen!"
"Wow!" The boy gazed up in wonderment.
"Oh really?" One of the men leaned and lowered his voice. "Sounds like Robert has hit his head on a tree once too many."
"More like hit the brandy once too many," His companion whispered back.
"Who was this man?" The boy asked eagerly.
"His name is...um, just a moment," Robert winced rubbing his head. "It was Basston? Button? Bowl? No, Pol! Yes, that's it. Pol! Pol Bonyon!"
"Ah, that was nice," Piotr smiled as he made his way back around the lake. "Nothing like some light work to loosen one up in the morning." He placed a hand over his stomach as it rumbled slightly. "Though some breakfast would be nice too. Still, I am glad I helped that man. He should be just fine." Piotr reached the spot where he originally approached the lake and headed back where he had left his slumbering teammates.
"There he is!" Sabertooth growled as Piotr returned. The rest of the Acolytes were up and appeared to have been awake for some time. "What do you think you're doing, Russian? Going off into the woods without telling anyone? Where the heck have you been?"
"Just washing my hands," Piotr said with a straight face. He indicated behind him. "There is a small lake just over there."
"Who cares?" Mastermind grumbled irritably, yanking pine needles out of his hair. "I wouldn't touch some slime infested pond water if it was laced with sugar and packed full of coffee!"
"Ignore him. He's just sore from sleeping on pine cones all night," Remy said walking up to Piotr. "But next time wake one of us up and tell us where you're going. You're getting a bad habit of wandering off by yourself."
"Sorry," Piotr said sheepishly.
"Well, now that Colossus is back," Pyro clapped his hands together after having put on his pack. "Let's get outta here and find someplace to have brekkie!"
"Okay," Remy prepared to activate the machine that he once again wore underneath his trench coat. "Everybody gather round and let's go."
"Yeah, yeah," Mastermind grunted as Remy activated the machine. "At least there's nothing we ended up affecting this time."
Not much anyway, Piotr thought of his actions as the machine whisked all them away. After all, what could possibly come from it?
"Oh boy...yaaahhh!" Pyro yelped as he abruptly found himself falling. He flailed about and managed to grab onto something solid.
"What the?" Remy gasped doing the same. The Acolytes had appeared in the middle of an enormous array of metal girders and steel cables. "What in the world is this?"
"Looks like the inside of an overgrown Erector set," Sabertooth hung onto a long catwalk that stretched along the metal framework. He glared at two bulging, silo-sized gas cells looming on either side of him. "What the devil are these things, balloons?"
RINGGG!
"Hey, I found a phone up here," Piotr stood on a narrow catwalk holding a small handset. The rest of the Acolytes carefully managed to work their way over to him.
"Achtung, achtung. Alle besatzungsmitglieder." A sharp, commanding voice came over the phone.
"What was that?" Pyro frowned leaned toward the receiver. "I didn't catch a word of it."
"It's German," Sabertooth growled. "It said 'Attention all crew members'."
"I didn't know you spoke German," Remy raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"When you're going up against the Stasi in East Berlin it pays to know what they're saying," Sabertooth told him. "Unless you want to end up permanently mausetot!"
"Bereiten sie sich für landeoperationen," The voice continued over the phone. "Arbeiten als professionelle mitglieder der großen zeppelin Hindenburg."
"Hindenburg?!" Mastermind blanched in horror. "We're aboard the Hindenburg?!"
"Oh no," Remy gulped and tried to prevent his knees from shaking.
"So much for having breakfast," Sabertooth groaned.
Historical Notes: Paul Bunyan is one of the most famous figures of North American folklore. He is often described as a giant lumberjack of great skill and strength. While various theories of the source of his tales range from early 20th-century advertising to the Lower Canada Rebellion of 1837, the exact origins of Paul Bunyan stories have never "officially" been determined.
The Hindenburg was a commercial passenger-carrying, hydrogen-filled dirigible and the largest airship ever build. It caught fire while attempting to land in New Jersey and was destroyed in less than a minute on May 6, 1937 A.D. While various theories have been proposed on how the disaster occured, the exact cause of the fire has never "officially" been determined.
