Disclaimer: I still don't own X-men Evolution, and anyone
who says different will be beaten over the head with a wiffle bat. Any o/c in
here is mine of course.
Okay, about seven reviews… let's just forget I said that,
shall we? Review if you want to.
Flames are still being ignored, though helpful criticism
is always nice (something I forgot to mention in chapter one, thanks Rina)
After the run-in with the Darks, life went pretty much back to normal, while I foraged around for food, and managed to fix the bike. The Harlaha, I was totally convinced, was my way out of my life. All I needed now was money for gas and to get everything in order. I was in Joe's rundown, government-paid apartment, telling him I wouldn't be around anymore, when I glanced out the window. And it happened.
Someone hit the bike.
Actually, it wasn't all that surprising. In my area of Seattle, the weapon of choice is the car. It seems as though anyone who passes into this area suddenly loses their mind to road rage. The fact that I had finished the bike two days ago (it was five days after the Dark incident) was a little off-putting.
If you live where I live, and you are in a traffic accident, your options are to either curse madly or to pay for damages. And I was not paying for this.
So, I grabbed the necessities. I had noticed that in a sweatshirt with a hood and a cap, I looked somewhat human. Plus, it was about eight in the evening, and dark for spring. (Which it was, by the way. April.) After I had yanked everything on, I went to see who had the death wish.
I was surprised to see that they were still there. It had been a long shot, but neighbors being neighbors, and this being Seattle, people tended to take down license plate numbers when such circumstances arose. So, the car actually being there still was a real shock.
I stopped to observe the car. It was nice, actually. In fact, it practically screamed "WE'RE RICH! WE'RE RICH!"
Which, in Seattle, is always followed closely by "ROB ME! ROB ME!"
But I digress.
The car was a shiny red. The type that, had you known anything about cars, would have you worshipping it within the hour.
Hell, I know next to nothing about cars, and I was impressed.
I realized that the couple getting out of the car was more important to the welfare of the Harlaha, so I quickly went on to study them. The first was a guy wearing red shades with brown hair. I wondered what color his eyes were, as the glasses were too thick and too red to really see through.
The other person was a girl at about the same height, with red hair and blue eyes. She seemed… upset.
"Scott, be more careful when you park," she said, sounding borderline-angry.
"Relax, Jean," the boy, Scott, replied. "It was just an accident. I'll try to find the owner, and we'll make sure it isn't broken."
That was my cue.
"Ya just found him," I said, stepping up.
They both jumped. I couldn't afford to let anyone see my face, so I had pulled an old, ratty hat down around my ears, which, I now realized, must not be the most comforting sight in the world.
"A-are you the person this bike belongs to?" "Scott" stammered. I realized suddenly that he wasn't from around here. Otherwise, a shadowed person wouldn't have freaked him out like he was.
"I believe that's been implied," I retorted.
The girl smiled. "We're really very sorry about that."
"I can see where you'd be so broken-hearted about it."
"Look, if the bike is damaged, we'll be happy to pay a mechanic to fix it up," Jean mentioned.
I decided against telling them the bike's history, as they were sure to not care. Instead, I looked over the fallen Harlaha. Nothing damaged, which was good, as it would've seemed strange to the couple if I burst into tears. I loved that bike.
"So," I said, for lack of anything better to say, "What brings you to Seattle, anyway?"
They seemed surprised. "You can tell we're not from around here?" Scott asked me. I gave him my patented half-smirk, which of course he couldn't see.
"Yeah. You're definitely not Seattle-born. Which doesn't answer my question. What brings you to Seattle in general, and this area in specific? This ain't exactly Beverly Hills."
Jean looked at Scott. "I don't see why we can't tell him."
Scott nodded. "Maybe he can help us."
I raised an eyebrow, once again forgetting they couldn't see my face. "This should be interesting, if you have to talk about it. J…" Damn. They hadn't actually given me their names. If I made it seem like I knew their names… well, they had acted pretty oddly when I had asked what they were doing there. "…Gee, what are your names?" I finished lamely.
Jean smiled. "This is Scott Summers," she said, "and I'm Jean Grey. And you are?"
Scott cut me off before I could answer. "Do you know a kid in the area named Leo Lyons?"
I thanked my lucky stars that I hadn't given my name. "I'd have to think about it. Why are you looking for him?"
"That's our business."
The gift to think on your feet is the gift of kings, which didn't really explain why I had it.
"Look," I said, "I am Leo's major friend. If you don't tell me, then he doesn't get the message. If he doesn't get the message, you don't get him."
"If you're a friend of Leo," challenged Scott, "then describe him. What does he look like?"
"Needs a good shave?" I said sarcastically. Then, I just couldn't resist. "Irresistible to the opposite sex?"
Both Scott and Jean looked a bit taken aback by that last description, though they didn't catch on. "Seriously," said Scott.
I gave him the same description as was in the first chapter, without the colorful embellishments. When I was done, Scott nodded.
"Alright. Now, why are you looking for him?"
This was the worst possible time for a car to pass with its lights on. So, of course, one did.
I blinked madly. So did Jean and Scott.
"Leo!?" Jean shouted. Scott looked shocked. Which, I guess, could happen to anyone when one is faced with an orange cat-boy.
I took off the damned cap and threw it to the ground. "You found me," I said calmly, "now tell me what you want."
If anything, the pair seemed more taken aback by my abruptness than by the way I looked. On the other hand, they had been expecting me to be like this.
I suddenly realized that my train of thought had been derailed, and glared at Jean.
"Well," she started slowly, "you have the power to create fire, am I right?"
That I was not expecting. "Yes, go on."
She nodded. "Scott and I come from a special school called 'The Xavier Institute for the Gifted.' It's a school for mutants, who are taught how to control their gifts."
It occurred to me that she never referred to them as mutant powers. Always "gifts". "Are you telling me that I've been selected to go to this 'special school'?" I asked.
"That's right." She apparently mistook my look of mixed joy and shock for something else and hurried on. "We have the technology to make you look like a normal person while you're there. You'll still have to make sure that you don't actually touch anyone, but you'll look no different than anyone else."
I considered kissing her. Instead, I fell back on the old tried and true method of acting like I didn't give a damn.
"I'll consider it," I said calmly. "Is there somewhere I can reach you?"
She smiled and floated me some odd device, and said, "Just use this, and I'll hear you." Whereupon I stared at the thing as if she had handed me a bicycle pump, and she taught me how to use the damned thing, a process that I will not waste my time trying to explain.
Once they had left, I figured I would pack all of my clothes (or rather, six shirts, two pairs of jeans, and seven pairs of socks that had been thrown out because they had been ripped, and ten pairs of boxer shorts that I had stolen. I would hopefully never see the cap again) into my suitcase (which I had also stolen), grab the Harlaha (I would never leave the bike. Never!), call Jean and Scott, and get out of this hellhole otherwise known as Seattle.
Or at least, that was the plan.
As it was, I was heading back toward where I lived, or rather a deserted street with an abandoned mattress…
Whoops. That was bitterness.
…Anyway, as I was heading "home", I ran into yet another couple of visitors.
"Good evening, Leo," said a short, straight-backed, brown-haired woman crisply. She gave him a small smile.
My reply was slightly less polite.
"Who the hell are you?"
"My name," as she spoke, she suddenly transformed into a woman of the same size, the same height, but she was blue and covered by scales, with red hair (her, not the scales),
"is Mystique."
I snarled. "When I ask 'who are you?', I mean 'What do you want with me?', and 'Why?'. Got an answer?"
Mystique's smile widened. "Temper, temper, Leo."
I quickly glanced over to the other person, a teenager at about sixteen years. He looked oddly familiar, but I couldn't place him at first. After all, I had a grand total of no friends my age.
Mystique apparently realized that I wasn't going to rise to the bait, and continued on. "I have an offer for you. How would you like a place to stay?"
I wondered if someone had been handing out my résumé or something. "Lyons, Leo. Homeless. Can create fire with his mind. Covered with fur. Needs mutant-friendly environment."
"No thanks." I said. "I've got some people who already offered." And I left. Or, at least, I tried. Instead, Mystique stepped in my way.
"The X-men?" she asked, sounding angry, "What fools."
"X-men?" I asked. This had been neglected to mention in my conversation earlier, with Jean and Scott.
"Xavier's Institute for the gifted," she said heatedly.
"Ah. Yes, that's the one. Why are they so foolish?"
"Well," she started, haughtily, "they think they can convince humans that mutants are harmless."
"What!? How dare they have goals which help others, and not just themselves?" I said sarcastically.
Mystique turned to me. "Do you believe that, Leo. Don't you remember what humans did to you?"
I had to admit that she had a point. But I had decided long ago that my parents were probably prejudiced.
And I wouldn't be.
"All right. So my parents weren't the best example of a loving family. That doesn't necessarily mean that all humans are that way."
Mystique frowned at me. "Well, you've made your choice. However, we can't let you go to the X-men either, can we?"
She turned to the boy at the same second I recognized him.
"You," I said, "You're one of the Darks, aren't you?"
The teen gave me a nasty grin. "Glad you figured it out, kid."
Mystique also smiled. "Meet my new student, May Akins."
I almost fainted.
"Your name is May!?"
May was looking angrily at Mystique- not that I could blame him. "I thought I told you to call me by my last name, Akins."
"How did that happen?" I asked.
"Well, my great-aunt had cancer, and my mother was pregnant, and my aunt's dying wish was to have them name the baby after her so… hey! It's none of your business!" May shouted.
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Now what do you want? Are ya gonna beat the hell out of me?"
Mystique frowned at me. "I said he was my student, Leo."
I punched May in the face, knocking him to the ground.
"Hypocrite!" I shouted, "You chase me around because I'm a mutant, and you've been one all this time?!"
May stood up. "We're nothing alike. I may be a mutant, but you're a freak."
"I'm as much a freak as you are. No more, no less. You aren't just a mutant, you're a monster!"
May growled deep in his throat. "Now you'll see my powers," he said, trying to sound dramatic and failing miserably.
His eyes suddenly went a reddish purple, whites, pupils, and all. A small, black ball appeared in his hand, so dark that it was hard to see at that hour of the night. He smiled.
"So long, Leo Lyons."
You'd have to be an idiot not to duck.
A thin beam of the black stuff shot toward where I'd been, narrowly missing both my shoulder and face and causing some major destruction to a building behind me. I was more than a little startled, let me tell you.
"WHAT THE HELL'S THAT?!"
Mystique smiled as she morphed- I was pretty sure that was what she was doing- back to the short woman she had appeared as. "Akins has the ability to use darkness itself as a weapon. Here, in the night, his powers are incredibly strong."
This did not make me happy. What made me even unhappier was the fact that Akins had pulled on some dark glasses, meaning I couldn't see his eyes and thus had no early warning system.
"Duck this, Leo," he said, and sent another blast.
I did. The building behind me was not looking good, as it now had two round three-feet by three-feet (just an estimate. I wasn't about to stop and measure them) holes in one side.
Mystique snorted. "You fool. Don't tell him when you are about to attack."
Damn her.
Sure enough the next blast came without warning. I didn't have time to duck. I just covered my head with my arms and hoped that the blast wasn't as strong as it seemed.
The outcome, I was not expecting.
My palm was pointing in his direction, totally unplanned, and I was freaking out. Which meant that my powers went off again.
Not that I was unhappy with the outcome, you understand.
A wave of fire shot out of my hands, striking the line of darkness. For some reason, this caused a small explosion, stopping both attacks in their tracks.
Except for the "small" part.
I found myself flying backward into aforementioned building.
After I had managed to open my eyes, I saw May lying unconscious about twenty-five feet away, Mystique was nowhere to be seen, and I found I liked both of them better that way.
Of course, I quickly changed my opinion when a fifteen-foot, muscle-bound man, or rather, Mystique, picked me up, shoved me against the wall, and started to strangle me.
"WHY won't you make this easy, and just DIE?!"
I considered all the witty comments that I could reply with if I wasn't being strangled.
Luckily, at that point, the Calvary arrived.
Mystique shrieked in pain and surprise when he/she was struck with some sort of shot of red energy. I started to fall the ten feet to the ground, but felt something catch me and lower me softly to the ground.
As I struggled to catch my breath, it occurred to me that I had never asked Scott and Jean what their powers were.
I spun, to see that, yes, Scott and Jean had shown up. Scott's visor thing was still glowing slightly. That left telekinetics to Jean.
I sprinted over to them, and spun to make a united front. Not that it mattered. Mystique and May were nowhere to be found.
Turning to Jean, I asked, "What's this about the X-men?"
Once she got over the surprise of not having told me (I assured her she hadn't) she explained the general X-men rules, how they try to keep the Brotherhood of Mutants under control, and how you shouldn't destroy humans because they didn't understand, and they would hopefully learn.
"Hmm…oh, right. Thanks for helping me back there."
Scott grinned at me. "Hey, we had to help a possible X-men, right?"
I couldn't help but give him a small smirk. "Yeah, well, let's make that 'future X-men' and call it a deal."
Now it was Jean's turn to smile. "Here, take this," she said, as she handed me a… watch.
"What's this?"
"It's an image inducer. When you use it, you'll look completely normal."
"Great! I'm riding my bike. I'll follow you both, so don't worry about me." I headed to the Harlaha, wondering vaguely what the Institute was going to be like.
I knew one thing, though. My life was about to get very interesting.
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