After having been forced to live in such refined quarters for so
long, the five friends living in the small attic room had learned to co-
exist pleasantly, with little to no squabbling. It was true, however, that
having five distinctly varying personalities did tend to cause mild
irritations. For the most part, though, they banded together to offer each
other support during the trials they were currently facing.
Much had to be given up in the name of survival. Each had nasty habits that tended to grate on others nerves so much so, that there was little choice but to refrain from them altogether. The first to be acknowledged was Gambit's smoking, which did seem the worst of the lot. Though he could not entirely put away the addiction, he did promise to lower the daily smokings to times when it seemed absolutely necessary.
Still, after having to remain silent for most of the day in fear of being found out by those workers which moved around just below them, the friends graciously accepted each others words when the clock struck seven and the laborers below departed to their own, safe homes. Henry McCoy often amused them with fascinating sciences and philosophies that provided the rest of them with ideas enough to entertain themselves when needing to be still. Ororo Monroe, resident
Goddess, retold tales of a life long ago lived, in the majestic country of Africa, where very little was imprisoned. Likewise, the thief threw in a few of his own personal recounts of tight situations that he had, at once, feared he would not have survived. In comparison, the impersonal war which waged about around them seemed at such a distance that they sometimes failed to believed it to be occurring at all!
Marie remained silent for most of the day, keeping to her thoughts and, instead, listening to the others, and watching their gestures as they spoke. Despite the small quarters, and the sad situation that seemed never- ending, the others remained animated throughout their story telling, even portraying a sense of hope that
Marie feared had long since died within her.
On one such day, Marie awoke to find Bobby noisily bustling about the apartment room, where the others, as she herself had been but a moment ago, still remained asleep. He shot her a small smile, before continuing with his secretive work that he would offer her no part of, for the time being.
When the others awoke, he finally revealed that which had brought a smile to his otherwise barren, worn features. "Merry
Christmas, everyone!" The proclamation took everyone aback, for they hadn't realized, for some time, just how long they had been in the small room together. They had entered into it the third week in
February of 2018, and already it was December of 2019. More than a year had passed since they had gathered the remains of the family they once knew and stowed away, leaving the public several letters and hints to imply that they had successfully fled to another country.
"Goddess, has it been so long?" Ororo's tender eyes looked upon Hank in curious wonder, trying to find an explanation as to why the time had moved by so quickly, yet dragged on so slowly at the same time.
"It appears," the furry genius beside her added, while flipping through the contents of his notebook. "That our Frosty friend is correct." He leaned slightly closer, so as to offer her a view to his very organized, and strictly dated journal.
"To think, de five of us have been t'gether dat long. An'
wit'out wantin' t'kill one another. Mus' be some kind of record, non?"
"The X-Men have always done well in situations where the odds are against them." Bobby finished putting up the last of the meager decorations that their friend from the outside world had dropped off earlier that morning, while the others slept. "Anyone for presents?" Grinning slightly at the sight of bewilderment on the others' faces, he dropped to sit beside Marie, holding a hand up to silence any oncoming questions. "They aren't from me." Indeed, they were quick to find that the gifts were from Arnold Frank.
Bobby knew there was no way they could ever repay the man for all that he was doing for them. Newspaper articles daily exposed the consequences of aiding runaway and wanted mutants, and feared a day when they themselves would be made an example of. Still, the morale of himself and the others had been slowly deteriorating, being replaced by the chilling dread that the war between man and mutant would continue on for an ungodly length.
Marie took the small box with her name scribbled onto the newspaper wrapping and smiled, turning it over without actually opening it. The sudden gratefulness for the man who came daily to see to it their needs were attended to overwhelmed her, and salty tears welled in her eyes, causing the scratched word "Marie" to blur before her. Many a night had she gone to bed, wondering if their safe hold would likely be their grave? Such an act of kindness was greatly appreciated by the five fugitives, and by Marie especially.
All hesitated to open the gifts, thinking it better, perhaps, to leave them for another time when their world seemed more in peril.
Tucking the boxes back under the mini tree that had been made out of old newspaper clippings and wire, the friends moved closer together, rubbing their arms and trying to ignore the sight of their breath before them. "Hey, Hankster, help me out here, would you?"
Hank got up on hind legs and made his way over to where Bobby was currently fumbling with several baskets and trays. He helped the young boy set them down in the middle of everyone, before taking his esteemed place beside Ororo once again. Quirking an awkward smile, Bobby looked at his fellow teammates and current family, before glancing back at the food. "How about...uh...Hank? Would you mind saying a blessing or something?" The intellect nodded briefly, before taking the hands of his neighbors. When the others had done the same, he bend his head and closed his eyes and thanked God, whom he hoped was still looking out for them through all of this.
Once the prayer had been finished, the group unceremoniously dove into the rationed, yet plentiful amount of food that lay before them. The country, being at war, both with itself and with neighboring countries, had to ration the food to the best of their abilities, without starving its inhabitants. To do so, they generally distributed slips of paper constituting as food rationing. Arnold
Frank had been successful in trading their mutant rationing cards for normal, acceptable ones, thanks to the help of an underground organization that slowly, yet determinedly, planned the overthrow of those against mutants.
Marie ate slowly, knowing it would be best if they saved as much as possible for days ahead when Mr.Frank might not be able to bring them food. Instead she settled her gaze among the people she had come to love as brothers and sisters. Despite the outer hatred for them, and the need to be isolated from everything they once held dear, her friends were able to push past that concept and continue life with some semblance of normalcy. It wasn't a grand Christmas, like those she vaguely remembered celebrating in the past, but it was the most touching she would ever live through. Though her native country had come to despise all that she was, these four friends of hers would stay by her side, through thick and thin. That was truly something worth celebrating.
Much had to be given up in the name of survival. Each had nasty habits that tended to grate on others nerves so much so, that there was little choice but to refrain from them altogether. The first to be acknowledged was Gambit's smoking, which did seem the worst of the lot. Though he could not entirely put away the addiction, he did promise to lower the daily smokings to times when it seemed absolutely necessary.
Still, after having to remain silent for most of the day in fear of being found out by those workers which moved around just below them, the friends graciously accepted each others words when the clock struck seven and the laborers below departed to their own, safe homes. Henry McCoy often amused them with fascinating sciences and philosophies that provided the rest of them with ideas enough to entertain themselves when needing to be still. Ororo Monroe, resident
Goddess, retold tales of a life long ago lived, in the majestic country of Africa, where very little was imprisoned. Likewise, the thief threw in a few of his own personal recounts of tight situations that he had, at once, feared he would not have survived. In comparison, the impersonal war which waged about around them seemed at such a distance that they sometimes failed to believed it to be occurring at all!
Marie remained silent for most of the day, keeping to her thoughts and, instead, listening to the others, and watching their gestures as they spoke. Despite the small quarters, and the sad situation that seemed never- ending, the others remained animated throughout their story telling, even portraying a sense of hope that
Marie feared had long since died within her.
On one such day, Marie awoke to find Bobby noisily bustling about the apartment room, where the others, as she herself had been but a moment ago, still remained asleep. He shot her a small smile, before continuing with his secretive work that he would offer her no part of, for the time being.
When the others awoke, he finally revealed that which had brought a smile to his otherwise barren, worn features. "Merry
Christmas, everyone!" The proclamation took everyone aback, for they hadn't realized, for some time, just how long they had been in the small room together. They had entered into it the third week in
February of 2018, and already it was December of 2019. More than a year had passed since they had gathered the remains of the family they once knew and stowed away, leaving the public several letters and hints to imply that they had successfully fled to another country.
"Goddess, has it been so long?" Ororo's tender eyes looked upon Hank in curious wonder, trying to find an explanation as to why the time had moved by so quickly, yet dragged on so slowly at the same time.
"It appears," the furry genius beside her added, while flipping through the contents of his notebook. "That our Frosty friend is correct." He leaned slightly closer, so as to offer her a view to his very organized, and strictly dated journal.
"To think, de five of us have been t'gether dat long. An'
wit'out wantin' t'kill one another. Mus' be some kind of record, non?"
"The X-Men have always done well in situations where the odds are against them." Bobby finished putting up the last of the meager decorations that their friend from the outside world had dropped off earlier that morning, while the others slept. "Anyone for presents?" Grinning slightly at the sight of bewilderment on the others' faces, he dropped to sit beside Marie, holding a hand up to silence any oncoming questions. "They aren't from me." Indeed, they were quick to find that the gifts were from Arnold Frank.
Bobby knew there was no way they could ever repay the man for all that he was doing for them. Newspaper articles daily exposed the consequences of aiding runaway and wanted mutants, and feared a day when they themselves would be made an example of. Still, the morale of himself and the others had been slowly deteriorating, being replaced by the chilling dread that the war between man and mutant would continue on for an ungodly length.
Marie took the small box with her name scribbled onto the newspaper wrapping and smiled, turning it over without actually opening it. The sudden gratefulness for the man who came daily to see to it their needs were attended to overwhelmed her, and salty tears welled in her eyes, causing the scratched word "Marie" to blur before her. Many a night had she gone to bed, wondering if their safe hold would likely be their grave? Such an act of kindness was greatly appreciated by the five fugitives, and by Marie especially.
All hesitated to open the gifts, thinking it better, perhaps, to leave them for another time when their world seemed more in peril.
Tucking the boxes back under the mini tree that had been made out of old newspaper clippings and wire, the friends moved closer together, rubbing their arms and trying to ignore the sight of their breath before them. "Hey, Hankster, help me out here, would you?"
Hank got up on hind legs and made his way over to where Bobby was currently fumbling with several baskets and trays. He helped the young boy set them down in the middle of everyone, before taking his esteemed place beside Ororo once again. Quirking an awkward smile, Bobby looked at his fellow teammates and current family, before glancing back at the food. "How about...uh...Hank? Would you mind saying a blessing or something?" The intellect nodded briefly, before taking the hands of his neighbors. When the others had done the same, he bend his head and closed his eyes and thanked God, whom he hoped was still looking out for them through all of this.
Once the prayer had been finished, the group unceremoniously dove into the rationed, yet plentiful amount of food that lay before them. The country, being at war, both with itself and with neighboring countries, had to ration the food to the best of their abilities, without starving its inhabitants. To do so, they generally distributed slips of paper constituting as food rationing. Arnold
Frank had been successful in trading their mutant rationing cards for normal, acceptable ones, thanks to the help of an underground organization that slowly, yet determinedly, planned the overthrow of those against mutants.
Marie ate slowly, knowing it would be best if they saved as much as possible for days ahead when Mr.Frank might not be able to bring them food. Instead she settled her gaze among the people she had come to love as brothers and sisters. Despite the outer hatred for them, and the need to be isolated from everything they once held dear, her friends were able to push past that concept and continue life with some semblance of normalcy. It wasn't a grand Christmas, like those she vaguely remembered celebrating in the past, but it was the most touching she would ever live through. Though her native country had come to despise all that she was, these four friends of hers would stay by her side, through thick and thin. That was truly something worth celebrating.
