Thanks for reading!
kmf's stuff: yeah, it's just been one of those days for curt. poor John, though; he just seems in an exceptionally bad mood today. wonder what got it started, -cough-curt-cough-. lol. neways, enjoy. and review! (p.s.I'm a woman, so no, we have nothing against woman.)
curt's crap: yeah, when you fail to spell your EMAIL correctly five times in a row, you need sleep. how the hell did i type my part of this? (my...snarky side becomes evident when i don't get sleep...)
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Chapter Nine
The inner sanctum of Iridescent Corporation was gleaming. The metallic halls reminded Marie a lot of the lower levels of the Xavier Institute. But that was her old life. This was the here and now. They walked briskly down the hall -- Stuart had teleported out almost as soon as they had touched the polished floor. The reception area was at the centre of the building, and Stuart had teleported them in at the right wing. Now, all they had to do was ask to apply, have Erika do her little bit of mind-bending and then fall into Gearson's fold. When they laid it out like that, it didn't seem too imposing at all... Well, not that imposing, anyway.
Marie glanced over at Erika. She looked rather blank; Marie supposed she was clearing her mind -- she would definitely need that focus.
With a sigh to focus herself, Marie looked straight again ahead, back straight, presence businesslike and dignified (how she pulled that, she had yet to find out). The click of their heels rang and reverberated about her.
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"Fuck. How're we gonna get 'em back, Kimana?" John was pacing like a trapped tiger. "There's no fucking initiative now. Marie just was there to get Ian and maybe information along the way."
"Worry not, O Great Leader," Kimana said, an arm draped over her eyes as she leaned back in one of the salvaged chairs in the Council Room. "I've got it."
"How?" John snapped.
"Ooh, you pyros are short-tempered. Mother was right to tell me not to play with you." She smirked. "Great Spirit allows me all sorts of communication."
"Quit bullshitting, Ki. Do you have this or not?"
"Let's say I have connections. Now, go grill something; you're one: bringing bad energy in here, and two: screwing my concentration."
John stalked to the far side of the room, muttering under his breath about "damned tree-hugging, pot-toking 'spirit-talkers' ". Kimana just shook her head and smiled.
"My name's Shoshone, but I'm Cherokee if you want to know, Firehead."
"Whatever."
Kimana closed her eyes, cleared her mind and pushed aside the tedious, dull pain of her headache. She focused on her newest object of attention.
Stuart, you still out there, English?
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Stuart heard the voice in his head. He'd heard it quite a bit now and again of late in more quiet times.
That little Indian girl: Kimana. He smiled. He wasn't sure if it'd work, but he thought hard back at her. Just about to leave, darling.
Ah, very good for an amatuer. But no, "sweetheart", I need to advise against that. In fact, I need you to do just the opposite: go get Marie and Erika back. Don't get caught.
Whyever for?
Because Ian is at the base. He's not there. Now bring them back, tsutla, okay?
And what in bloody hell is that?
A fox, you cheeky, sly bastard. Now go!
"Bloody hell," Stuart sighed, looking to the sky. "Women. And can't anything ever go orderly in war?"
And with a bamf! he was gone again.
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"Come with me, lovelies..." Stuart said as he ushered them to a half-hidden alcove on the way to Gearson's personal secretary's office. Both of them would have screamed had he not spoke as he took their arms.
"What the hell?" Marie said, Southern drawl pronounced.
"Ian's a good little chicken save home at the roost. Now we need to be, too." Bamf!
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She'd cornered him as he'd left Kimana in the council room. He had barely made it two steps before she spotted him and ran over, smiling from ear to ear. Personally, John didn't see what there was to smile about, but Shasa always seemed strange when he was around her anyways.
"John, I'm glad I caught you. Can I ask you a favor?" she asked him. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, a dangerous glint in them.
"What?" he snapped, obviously in a bad mood. He just really wanted to go check on Trent's condition.
"Can you help me train? I wanna test my powers against fire," she explained, batting her eyelashes at him. He frowned. Was she flirting with him? He shook his head, not really wanting the answer to that question.
"No, I can't. I really don't have time for it. I need to go check on Trent anyways, and the council's gotta meet when Stuart brings the girls home," he muttered, mostly to himself, though he knew Shasa heard it by the look of hurt in her eyes.
"So... is that a maybe?" she asked, her face suddenly lit with hope. He looked flat out confused.
"Did I say anything to make you think I would ever train with you?" he asked. Her smiled broadened and she squealed, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck. Giving him a kiss on the cheek, she dropped to the ground and turned to run off.
"Thanks, so much, John," she said over her shoulder as she ran over to where her friends stood, leaving John dumbfounded. With a shrug, he walked off, muttering something about 'damned deranged women' and how they always seemed to make something out of nothing.
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(The lyric in the page break is from "Violence Fetish" by Disturbed.)