This is Sfär. Here, the Germanic nations are a superpower.
Ah, Ft. Bragg... This military base kicks ass. Here, infantry jump out of aircraft thousands of meters in the sky. On the ground, they practice spec-ops missions.
Their MPs have made a big bust. It seems that the MPs now have their own anti-mutant task force.
Telford Porter's in the stockade, now. He sits in a cell, awaiting further judgment. This is NOT a good day for mutants... Or rather, it's not a good day for HIM...
He bears the likeness of a younger Brad Pitt. As a mutant, he can teleport and become invisible. Alas, he's locked up in a power-dampening cell. In here, he can't use his powers worth shit.
He scratches his hair. Damn, his hair itches. But then, this is Tyrol. It's way down south. The chiggers and mites, hence, breed like gnats.
From down the hall, a she-MP comes. She tries not to grin, as she opens the cell, and releases Porter.
"Congrats, Mr. Porter," she says. "You've been cleared. Do I need to show you the way out?"
"Thanks; but I don't really need such an accommodation." With that, he turns to teleport his way off-site...
"One more thing, Porter."
Porter freezes. Fuck, he thinks. Mutants are fugitives again. She's going to lock me back up...
"You need a haircut. There is WAY too much hair on your head."
But of course, an MP would think so. In the Heer, men are shaved the instant they're recruited. Porter has NO idea how the Heer ever forgets that just because the X-Force ACTS like a military unit doesn't mean that it is one...
Nonetheless, as much as he hates to admit it, Telford hates it when his hair itches. Luckily, he thinks he knows an old teammate who'd make a good barber...or better yet, a good hairdresser. (Not that his hair needs dressing, understand...)
Ray Stevens, he's going to hate this...
In the uplands, there are woods. Every now and then, a hunter's shotgun goes off...or just an off-season politician's. Sometimes when the gunnery goes off, quails and pheasants scatter...
At the bottom of many hills, a drive dead-ends. Every now and then, occasional traffic parks here.
In a flash, Telford teleports arrival. Alas, he can't be seen. He's invisible. Liking his chances, he becomes visible, and ascends the hill.
Uphill, there's a cottage. The tree stumps that surround it look like they've seen better days. Their tops are blackened...like they've been hit by lightning. Alas, lightning did NOT strike these stubs. For one thing, they're hardly the tallest things up here. Plus, why isn't the cottage in ruins?
It might not be...but some of the windows are. Whoever lives here has a particular proclivity for pyrotechnics...
Out back, Tabitha Smith practices her grenade-throwing. She generates yellow-shining balls of energy into her hands, and throws them. They make quite the bang. They make the politicians' shotguns sound like a pinky-slap.
In a cellar beneath the cottage, there's a barber chair. The cellar is designed like a bomb shelter. Telford can't imagine why. Knowing Ms. Smith, she could go off at any moment.
Nonetheless, he teleports into the barber chair, and waits. While waiting, he takes a moment to study the signs on the wall.
There's a picture of Senator Matthew Montez on the wall. It's seen better days. It seems that Ms. Smith uses it for target practice...inside a bomb shelter.
There are also signs saluting the WASP crowd. And that does NOT mean the Van Dyne family.
A rope hangs from the ceiling. It, too, has a sign on it that says RING FOR SERVICE...AT YOUR OWN RISK. Telford swallows, and pulls the chain.
In the cottage roost, this causes a horn to blare.
Ms. Smith stops, and listens. She scoffs, throws one last energy blast, and starts inside. The blast makes an epic explosion in her background. She doesn't even turn to acknowledge it.
In the house, there's a picture of Luke Duke (from the Dukes of Hazzard) strung up on a cross, like Jesus Christ. The picture's caption says, I FUCKED LUKE DUKE...AND YOU DIDN'T.
Downstairs, Telford waits. He feels uneasy. He feels like forgetting about his hair, and teleporting away. Alas, he's already rung the bell. He'd hate to make Ms. Smith mad. That is clearly very easy to do.
She comes downstairs...and takes off her shirt. For a brief moment, Telford sees her bra-clad hooters. And they are some VERY nice hooters... He doesn't know why Ms. Smith doesn't join the UFC...
But then, he remembers that she's a mutant. And here and there around the world, mutants are still being forced to fight one another.
She replaces her shirt...with one that says, in big letters on the front, REAL HE-MUTANTS DON'T TELEPORT, OR BECOME INVISIBLE. Now, THIS makes Telford nervous...
Spontaneously, the chair arms lash out with chains, and hold Telford steady. Just Telford's luck; the chains are power-dampening. This is outrageous; Ms. Smith's a mutant. She shouldn't even own these.
But then, Telford realizes that a lot of normal humans are vulnerable to their own firearms. And yet, when are said humans ever going to throw out all of their firearms?
Ms. Smith's feet are already de-shoed. With that said, she sets her foot down right between Telford's thighs...like an innuendo. She crosses her huge bare arms. She smirks, as she can see Telford's little cock trying to get stiff...
"Well?" She's still smiling. "What can I do for you?"
This is hard for Telford. Alas, he needs his haircut. And he has NO reason to be ashamed of who he is. He is what he is. He teleports his little self, makes his little self invisible, and protects his little homefolk...rather like Ms. Smith, on better days. And one way or another, he's going to get his hair cut.
So, to protect himself, he improvises a lie. "I'm a grenadier. I'm stationed at Ft. Bragg. I was in the Ranger Regiment for a few. When I fell beneath the standards, I switched back to paratrooping. I wear a maroon beret at ceremonies. I'm up for a promotion to corporal in a few months."
With that, Ms. Smith smiles, and opens up a drawer. From it, she fetches a jewelry box...full of nano-bombs. One at a time, she slides them on each of his hairs. This is rather time-consuming...but as she keeps telling Telford, the reward is SO worth the labor...to her. Plus, she doesn't cut hair very often.
By the time Telford leaves, his scalp has been blackened. It could be blacker. Hell, his brain could even be showing. Alas, Telford supposes that X-Force blood is thicker than water. Either that, or MUTANT blood is... Telford can't tell...
He thinks Ms. Smith fancies him... Alas, all she's gotta do is find out what his mutant powers are. Good thing she kept herself from learning that by putting the power-dampeners on him...
Telford STILL hates power-dampening tech. He STILL doesn't know why Ms. Smith uses it, if she's a mutant, and hence knows how horrible it is to have some of those around your wrists...