Soooo, here we are again with another installment of Copping A Feeling.
This is a rather passive chapter, sort of a prequel to next time's, which
shall include much bloodshed, I promise you. ^_^ I am nothing if not a
bloodthirsty little beast. Standard disclaimer: X-Men: Evolution doesn't
belong to me, yada, yada, yada.
Now, while I was writing this, I was a little stressed and thinking about certain things. Don't all the powers in X-Men just represent us? I mean, think about it. What do you think of when someone says "She's fiery!" or "He's as cold as ice." Take the sayings, make them real. He's impassive, ruthless and logical: his power is ice! She's fiesty, rash and critical: her power is flame!
So what would Scott's power be, Glare of Doom? *ducks as dozens of G-Wing fans chuck boots for stealing* I jest! I jest!
Of course, not all are, you know, that obvious. So Kenneth has powers like that, too. Only.more subtly. I'm done yapping, on with the 'fic!
Of course, if you send me feedback, good or bad(as long as its intelligent) I shall love you forever! ^_^ Onwards!
Copping A Feeling - Chapter Two
[mistakes that last]
"We ask that you extend to him the same respect that was granted each of you." Professor X arched his fingers under his nose as he leaned his elbows forward and considered each of the mutants in front of him. They were all there save Rogue, and all standing at attention, each equipped with different abilities and stories, personalities and reasonings. To mix such power together into a confined area. . . what would it take to make this experiment explode in his very own face? One errant chemical added into this eclectic mix could do the deed, it was true.
The psychic exhaled, and sat back. "That is all. Thank you for coming."
Muttering and speaking softly, all the children filed out of his room and into the hallway. Children. Despite their powers and his vision, they were just *childen*.
Professor X wheeled his chair around as Scott gently shut the door and turned his gaze to the bright bonfires in the cool night sky. Would this be the one? Would his new X-Man be the catalyst for something dangerous and dark?
"If there is any mercy," he said, not without a touch of finality in his voice. "If there is any mercy, it will not be Kenneth."
A star above the mansion seemed to blaze that much brighter, just for an instant, as if in answer.
*
Evan slouched against the wall with his hands in his pockets and surveyed the others as they walked out of the Professor's study. "That was *weird*. We ain't never gotten that kinda talk before 'bout some new guy."
By tacit understanding, the entire group began to slow, then stop a fixed distance from the door and around a corner in the hallway. Jean pursed her lips. "What do you mean?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Kurt this time. His tail flicked slowly from side to side by his ankles, and he self-consciously reached up and tugged on his hair as the group's attention fell on him. "He's a leetle. . . 'different', vun might say."
Kitty, who had been until that moment fiddling with a decorative fern by phasing her fingers through it over and over, looked up. "No kidding, Blue." Phase in, phase out. In, out.
"Vell, it's true!" He gestured with his furred hand and bit down on his lower lip, fang poking gently from his mouth. "And I asked you not to call me that."
Scott sighed. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to trust the Professor on this one. He knows," and awkward chuckle forced its way out and into the stilted atmosphere of the hall. "Just let Kenneth come out on his own time. You know?" The group shifted, looking at each other uncomfortably as the air seemed to stale and become brittle. True. They'd let him have some space. For now.
Again, as a group with no obvious sign given, they began to move out of the hallway and left the uneasy stances behind. Scott laughed. "So she calls you Blue?"
A long, overdrawn, dramatic moan. "Kee-eetie!"
Jean's voice. "Russian Blue? How cute!"
"German! German, not Russian! Ich sprechen sie Deutch[1]!" And finally, a disgusted sounding *bamf!~*
*
The following day, however, the newest recruit wasn't in school, though they had made the effort to locate him. Finally, all had been given up, and Scott and Jean ate alone together at a long cafeteria bench.
Scott munched idly on a carrot stick, a healthy, nutritious part of his lunch. The meal's remains lay open on the table; an apple core, a whole- wheat sandwich crust and a pile of vegetable slices. "Do you think he's sick?"
Jean reached over and slipped some green pepper into her hand. Scott didn't notice. "I don't know. What's his. . . 'thing', anyway?"
"Fire." He spoke as if setting people alight was a common disability.
"Like. . .flames?"
In the background, a senior buzzed and turned to her friends, out of notice of the two mutants. "Did you hear? The new guy's *flaming*!" Scott and Jean talked on.
"Haven't even met him yet. Do you think he's still in his room?"
"Who can say?" She reached over and casually stole another piece of the crisp vegetable. Delicious. Didn't he notice a thing?
"And Jean," Scott said as he stood up. "You can just ask, if you wanted them."
Ah. She squinted up at him, just to see his warm lopsided grin returned back onto her. So his sunglasses weren't that dark after all.
Rule to boyfriends number one: Never, ever look ashamed.
She laughed and grabbed his hand.
*
And why did you fly
did you burn
can't you learn from my mistakes?
I've made them all before and I know
you're too close to the sun!
You're too close to the sun!
The music was soothing to his ears. Kenneth lay prone in his bare metal room, arms and legs flung haphazardly spreadeagle and his head pillowed on nothing more than slick steel. Yet, somehow, it didn't feel cool at all. Nothing ever did. The boy who lived as fire peeled his eyes open slowly to reveal the vaulted ceiling high above him and off to one side a window with shades drawn. A thin stripe of sunlight that had somehow scratched through the narrow gap between curtains and wall slashed across the flesh of his belly and continued on to the only other piece of furniture present besides the stereo.
A potted plant.
Name: Fred.
Origin: the market on Fifth, bought by Professor X.
Kenneth tilted his head so Fred came into greater focus and tuned the refreshing sounds out. "Hey, buddy."
No answer.
"I'm not imprisoned. There're some cool people here."
Silence.
"But what do you know?" A soft chuckle, and he turned his level, passive gaze of slanted hazel eyes to the ceiling. "You're just a plant." The music returned in full force, the rhythm reminding the boy uncomfortably of his heartbeat, and of booted feet on metal.
Fini d'chapter 2.
[1] I speak German!
Now, while I was writing this, I was a little stressed and thinking about certain things. Don't all the powers in X-Men just represent us? I mean, think about it. What do you think of when someone says "She's fiery!" or "He's as cold as ice." Take the sayings, make them real. He's impassive, ruthless and logical: his power is ice! She's fiesty, rash and critical: her power is flame!
So what would Scott's power be, Glare of Doom? *ducks as dozens of G-Wing fans chuck boots for stealing* I jest! I jest!
Of course, not all are, you know, that obvious. So Kenneth has powers like that, too. Only.more subtly. I'm done yapping, on with the 'fic!
Of course, if you send me feedback, good or bad(as long as its intelligent) I shall love you forever! ^_^ Onwards!
Copping A Feeling - Chapter Two
[mistakes that last]
"We ask that you extend to him the same respect that was granted each of you." Professor X arched his fingers under his nose as he leaned his elbows forward and considered each of the mutants in front of him. They were all there save Rogue, and all standing at attention, each equipped with different abilities and stories, personalities and reasonings. To mix such power together into a confined area. . . what would it take to make this experiment explode in his very own face? One errant chemical added into this eclectic mix could do the deed, it was true.
The psychic exhaled, and sat back. "That is all. Thank you for coming."
Muttering and speaking softly, all the children filed out of his room and into the hallway. Children. Despite their powers and his vision, they were just *childen*.
Professor X wheeled his chair around as Scott gently shut the door and turned his gaze to the bright bonfires in the cool night sky. Would this be the one? Would his new X-Man be the catalyst for something dangerous and dark?
"If there is any mercy," he said, not without a touch of finality in his voice. "If there is any mercy, it will not be Kenneth."
A star above the mansion seemed to blaze that much brighter, just for an instant, as if in answer.
*
Evan slouched against the wall with his hands in his pockets and surveyed the others as they walked out of the Professor's study. "That was *weird*. We ain't never gotten that kinda talk before 'bout some new guy."
By tacit understanding, the entire group began to slow, then stop a fixed distance from the door and around a corner in the hallway. Jean pursed her lips. "What do you mean?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Kurt this time. His tail flicked slowly from side to side by his ankles, and he self-consciously reached up and tugged on his hair as the group's attention fell on him. "He's a leetle. . . 'different', vun might say."
Kitty, who had been until that moment fiddling with a decorative fern by phasing her fingers through it over and over, looked up. "No kidding, Blue." Phase in, phase out. In, out.
"Vell, it's true!" He gestured with his furred hand and bit down on his lower lip, fang poking gently from his mouth. "And I asked you not to call me that."
Scott sighed. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to trust the Professor on this one. He knows," and awkward chuckle forced its way out and into the stilted atmosphere of the hall. "Just let Kenneth come out on his own time. You know?" The group shifted, looking at each other uncomfortably as the air seemed to stale and become brittle. True. They'd let him have some space. For now.
Again, as a group with no obvious sign given, they began to move out of the hallway and left the uneasy stances behind. Scott laughed. "So she calls you Blue?"
A long, overdrawn, dramatic moan. "Kee-eetie!"
Jean's voice. "Russian Blue? How cute!"
"German! German, not Russian! Ich sprechen sie Deutch[1]!" And finally, a disgusted sounding *bamf!~*
*
The following day, however, the newest recruit wasn't in school, though they had made the effort to locate him. Finally, all had been given up, and Scott and Jean ate alone together at a long cafeteria bench.
Scott munched idly on a carrot stick, a healthy, nutritious part of his lunch. The meal's remains lay open on the table; an apple core, a whole- wheat sandwich crust and a pile of vegetable slices. "Do you think he's sick?"
Jean reached over and slipped some green pepper into her hand. Scott didn't notice. "I don't know. What's his. . . 'thing', anyway?"
"Fire." He spoke as if setting people alight was a common disability.
"Like. . .flames?"
In the background, a senior buzzed and turned to her friends, out of notice of the two mutants. "Did you hear? The new guy's *flaming*!" Scott and Jean talked on.
"Haven't even met him yet. Do you think he's still in his room?"
"Who can say?" She reached over and casually stole another piece of the crisp vegetable. Delicious. Didn't he notice a thing?
"And Jean," Scott said as he stood up. "You can just ask, if you wanted them."
Ah. She squinted up at him, just to see his warm lopsided grin returned back onto her. So his sunglasses weren't that dark after all.
Rule to boyfriends number one: Never, ever look ashamed.
She laughed and grabbed his hand.
*
And why did you fly
did you burn
can't you learn from my mistakes?
I've made them all before and I know
you're too close to the sun!
You're too close to the sun!
The music was soothing to his ears. Kenneth lay prone in his bare metal room, arms and legs flung haphazardly spreadeagle and his head pillowed on nothing more than slick steel. Yet, somehow, it didn't feel cool at all. Nothing ever did. The boy who lived as fire peeled his eyes open slowly to reveal the vaulted ceiling high above him and off to one side a window with shades drawn. A thin stripe of sunlight that had somehow scratched through the narrow gap between curtains and wall slashed across the flesh of his belly and continued on to the only other piece of furniture present besides the stereo.
A potted plant.
Name: Fred.
Origin: the market on Fifth, bought by Professor X.
Kenneth tilted his head so Fred came into greater focus and tuned the refreshing sounds out. "Hey, buddy."
No answer.
"I'm not imprisoned. There're some cool people here."
Silence.
"But what do you know?" A soft chuckle, and he turned his level, passive gaze of slanted hazel eyes to the ceiling. "You're just a plant." The music returned in full force, the rhythm reminding the boy uncomfortably of his heartbeat, and of booted feet on metal.
Fini d'chapter 2.
[1] I speak German!
