Some of you loyal x-book readers may recognize the Genoshan characters. I
actually created NONE of the people you see here (Jenny Ransome, Phillip &
Tomas Moreau, their father David [the first genegineer!], and the Press
Gang--Pipeline, Punchout, Hawkshaw, Wipeout & Tam Anderson) but I've
certainly tweaked them a little bit (or will tweak them when they appear).
Retcon is fun and amusing and if I have my wicked way there's more to
come. Heh heh heh. rubs hands together
* * *
"What're you doing here, Tom?" Jenny's voice came softly through th' door. Ah wish Ah could say that Ah'd sensed danger an' that's why Ah was awake, but that's a lie. After a restless half hour where Ah hovered 'tween sleep and wakin', haunted by strange half-dreams that faded when Ah tried ta pin 'em down, Ah sat bolt upright in bed. My head was spinnin' and for a terrifyin' moment Ah couldn't remember where Ah was. When certainty disappears, it's like the floor tiltin' in a gigantic funhouse. My mouth went dry, but Jenny's voice brought me back ta myself.
Tom's reply ta her question was too soft for me ta hear. Ah figured it was the same Tom that Phillip'd mentioned earlier, only he'd called him 'Thomas.' Slowly, Ah eased outta bed, crept ta the door an' pressed my ear against the wood.
"You know that Phillip'll kill you if he finds you here."
"Phillip is the least of my problems right now," Tom said.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do, you and Phillip are just too blind to see it. Just take a look at this thing in my neck! It's only because he's never touched you..."
"He wanted to help you, Tom. He wanted to help both of us." The second part was so soft Ah had ta strain ta hear it.
"I know my father has connections to the Press Gang! He's not helping anybody." He was pleadin' with her, beggin' her to believe him. Almost like if she did then he'd be justified. Ah wondered who the Press Gang was.
"Give it up, Tom. Please! I hate to see you like this."
"Like what?" There was a growlin' kinda dangerousness in his voice but Jenny didn't hear it or didn't care. From under th' house there was a stirring, like Avalanche does right before all hell breaks loose.
"Acting so crazy."
"I caught one."
Ah heard her gasp softly. "What?"
"Right here in the house. Sneaking in. From the look of him it has to be Pipeline."
"Are you sure?"
"No, I'm not sure, Jenny! How could anyone be sure? No one knows what they look like."
"No one believes they exist," she breathed.
"Well this one does, and he's down in my father's study."
They didn't say anythin' after that. Ah heard the shuffle o' their feet against the deep pile of the hallway carpet. My hand flew ta the knob. It rattled, but stayed put. Locked. "Fuck," Ah muttered. It wasn't gonna be a headache for long. Girl should always have a few tricks up her sleeve for emergency-type situations. Pickin' a lock is one o' mine. Ah was a bit rusty. Life at the Institute had changed me--sharpened some edges at the expense o' others. Still, Ah had the door open in sixty seconds flat. It was only after that, followin' Jenny an' Tom downstairs, that Ah really started ta wonder who'd locked that door and if it was for keepin' me in or keepin' somethin' out.
A thin streak o' light fell across the downstairs hallway and Ah moved toward it, careful where Ah put my feet. Jenny and Tom were inside with their backs ta me. They were crowded in front of a third person who seemed ta be tied up. Ah watched, fascinated, while Jenny picked the person up and hoisted him aloft, one handed like she was pickin' up a gallon o' milk.
Ah felt a shock o' recognition go through me. My stomach dropped in horror and Ah'm afraid Ah reacted before Ah even had a chance ta think things over. Ah burst into the room, goin' in low, scannin' the sidelines for a weapon. Outta the corner o' my eye, Ah saw Tom make a grab for me, but Ah dodged him and went after Jenny instead. All my good feelin's about her flew outta the window. Remy squirmed a little in her grasp, but mostly he looked dazed and out of it.
Runnin' into Jenny was like hittin' a stone wall. She didn't give an inch. Instead, she grabbed the back o' my borrowed nightshirt in her free hand and pulled me into th' air, the actual air. By the time Ah got my wind back we were hoverin' near the ceiling just as ordinary as anythin'. Ah tried ta reach around and grab Jenny's skin, but she held me as far away from herself as she could. Strangest thing ta look down and see your legs danglin' offa nothin'.
Ah heard that rumblin' again and this time the house shook with it. Pictures on the walls rattled. It was another moment before Ah could find my voice. "He's a friend o' mine, Jenny," Ah gasped. My nightshirt collar was diggin' into my throat.
She lowered me ta the ground but kept her hold on Remy. "You shouldn't be here, Rogue," she said sadly.
Ah rubbed my throat, smoothed th' nightshirt over my hips and tried my best ta look dignified. "Ah don't think he should be here either." Ah jerked a thumb at Tom. Facin' him full-on, he looked a lot like Phillip: brown- haired with a small tattoo on th' inside o' his right arm, tall an' muscular, but with somethin' wild in his face always switchin' between freedom an' craziness. He didn't seem impressed by my attempt at respectability.
"Who's this, Jenny? Another one of my father's 'volunteers'?"
Ah guess it was just somethin' about th' boys in the whole family that pissed me off. "My name's Rogue an' Ah don't know what the hell you're talkin' about."
Jenny touched Tom's arm. "She's only staying for the night, Tom."
He looked at me an' snorted. "That's what she thinks. Free tip, kid, don't ever fall asleep in my father's house."
It was about then that Remy came to. He looked at me, askin' for a distraction. Ah looked at Tom an' Jenny. They were off in their own li'l world, absorbed with problems Ah didn't give a damn 'bout. It was easy enough ta slip my fingers 'round Jenny's wrist.
Worst part was when she screamed. God, Ah never heard such a noise. Usually people go real quiet when Ah touch 'em, but not her. The power tore into me like fire and then she screamed. Ah was so startled, Ah pushed off the ground an' hit the ceilin' before Ah could get a hold o' myself. Remy used the opportunity ta break away from her, pushing his feet into her shoulder an' flippin' backwards ta the floor, landin' gracefully. He charged the ropes and they seemed ta dissolve offa him. Jenny crumpled like a paper cup. Ah let go o' her an' she dropped onto a couch, spillin' the cushions everywhere.
By that time, th' screams had woken up the doctor, or maybe he was never asleep. He took stock o' the room in a moment. As soon as Tom saw him, the house began ta quiver, plaster dust fallin' down from the ceilin'. Remy charged a card an' looked back an' forth from one ta the other, not knowin' what ta do. He looked at me again and Ah shrugged.
"It's good to see you, Thomas," David said. He was calm, especially considerin' the fact that his house seemed like it might fall on him any minute. Tom's only response was an inarticulate shout. The walls wobbled. "I only wish your homecomings weren't so dramatic. I'm still paying off the repair bills from the last time."
"You sent me to that camp to die!"
"I sent you to that camp to be cured."
"Is that what Trask calls it?" He had my whole attention then.
"Anyone would have done the same." There was somethin' in the doctor's hand, small, 'bout the size o' a car's keyless entry system. He raised his hand as if the thing were made o' lead, pressed a small button. There was an electronic twitterin' noise. Tom's posture changed, he stood straighter with his shoulders back--military style. Doctor Moreau looked over the room, from Jenny on th' couch ta Remy crouchin' on the floor ta me in the air. He sighed, heavy an' there was exhausted sadness in his face. "I think you'd all better come with me." He turned ta Tom. "665."
Suddenly, the house was fallin' and it was like my feelin' from before when Ah woke up and couldn't remember where Ah was, only it went on and on.
* * *
Woke up on de floor. Brain was workin' in spurts t' process de surroundings: cold, hard, concrete, cot, toilet. My head hurt somet'ing awful. Possible at dat moment I trade my soul for an aspirin, no problem. De pain in my head made it hard t' notice de pain in my arm, but when I pushed myself upright, I noticed dat right away. Long, burnin' spike clear up t'rough my shoulder.
"Putain (fucking hell)!" Wasn't hard t' see de problem. Dey'd been busy. Dere was a number tattooed inside my right arm, small and neat. Turned my arm over and squinted: 8749. A wail from de next cell brought me back t' de larger situation. Dere was a small grating at de base of de wall between de two rooms, large enough for a hand, mebbe, but not'ing else. I touched de bars, waitin' for de usual rush o' power, but not'ing happened. Dere was fear in my mouth den, but I swallowed it. "Qui c'est ça (who is that)?" Translated a second later. T'ing 'bout being bilingual is some o' de times you slip, lose your place inside de language you're speaking at de time.
"Ah guess Ah always kinda wanted a tattoo," Rogue said a moment later. Could hear in her voice dat she was tryin' t' convince herself dat everyt'ing was going t' be okay. Smiled despite de situation.
"Which one dey give you?"
"9602."
"I'm 8749. Funny. T'ought I asked for de number thirteen."
"Ah'm glad you can laugh at th' situation."
"Not'ing else t' do, beb. It's laugh or cry, neh? Your powers gone too?"
Dere was a long, breathless silence. "What about our powers?" Her voice trembled wit' hope and fright.
"Try dem."
Rogue pushed two ungloved fingers t'rough de grate an' brushed my hand. De sensation had not'ing t' do wit' draining. I heard Rogue's breath catch.
"How?" she asked, pleadin' wit' me t' give her de answer.
Tore me up t' disappoint her. "Don't know."
She continued t' stroke my skin, makin' de hair on my arms prick up. My coo-yon (foolish) heart leapt at dat. Kept tellin' myself she was drunk wit' de sensation. She didn't know what she was doin'. Had been amazin' t' see her, dazed as I was, chargin' t'rough dat door. Somehow she had become my cavalry. Felt good t' have someone t' watch my back.
"Ah didn't think anyone was over there."
Withdrawin' from her touch, lyin' flat on de floor an' putting one eye t' de grate, I could see a pale expanse of leg. "Lookin' good, chère."
She kicked a toe in my direction. "Eyes ta yourself, Cajun. Ya got any bright ideas 'bout how ta get us outta this mess?"
Rubbed my neck t' ease de pain in my head. My fingers ran across somet'ing raised under de skin. Had t' will myself not t' panic as I felt out de contours: rectangle, 'bout an inch an a half, hard, probably metal. "Just give me time," I said, but I t'ought it sounded forced.
"That's what Ah like ta hear." Her hand found my knee and traced lazy patterns.
"Never on de first date, beb," I said absently, still fingerin' de t'ing under my skin.
Rogue withdrew her fingers a little and I immediately regretted calling attention t' anyt'ing. "Ya wouldn't know what ta do with me on a date."
Amazing how a simple touch had changed de girl. "Dat a promise or a threat?"
De only response was an amused snort. "Ah was talkin' ta Jenny earlier," she said, more seriously, keepin' her voice quiet.
"Dat girl give Piotr a run for de money."
"She didn't know th' whole story, but she said that Tom is Doctor Moreau's older son an' he always suspected his father of bein' involved with a group of violent mutants workin' for th' Genoshan government."
"Trouble in paradise?"
"Not that Jenny said she ever noticed, but Tom was convinced that they were makin' mutants disappear. Keepin' 'em against their will ta do what the government wanted."
"She know how Trask fits into dis?"
"She said she never heard o' him before."
"You believe her?"
"Ah do. She has an honest face," Rogue finished wit' a touch of grimness. A commotion in de hallway and I snapped my head around. "Someone's comin'!" she hissed.
A male voice: "Wipeout, you're with me. Hold her down." I went cold all over.
"Rogue," I began, refocusing my attention t' de grate, but she was gone.
***
So what's the deal with the powers? I can tell you that it has nothing to do with Genoshan collars which (as someone on an x-board so bluntly told me) don't actually exist in comicverse. They were solely a conceit of the old animated show (I could always imagine Remy buying one as Rogue's Christmas gift...) Hmmm. It's certainly a quandry.
* * *
"What're you doing here, Tom?" Jenny's voice came softly through th' door. Ah wish Ah could say that Ah'd sensed danger an' that's why Ah was awake, but that's a lie. After a restless half hour where Ah hovered 'tween sleep and wakin', haunted by strange half-dreams that faded when Ah tried ta pin 'em down, Ah sat bolt upright in bed. My head was spinnin' and for a terrifyin' moment Ah couldn't remember where Ah was. When certainty disappears, it's like the floor tiltin' in a gigantic funhouse. My mouth went dry, but Jenny's voice brought me back ta myself.
Tom's reply ta her question was too soft for me ta hear. Ah figured it was the same Tom that Phillip'd mentioned earlier, only he'd called him 'Thomas.' Slowly, Ah eased outta bed, crept ta the door an' pressed my ear against the wood.
"You know that Phillip'll kill you if he finds you here."
"Phillip is the least of my problems right now," Tom said.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do, you and Phillip are just too blind to see it. Just take a look at this thing in my neck! It's only because he's never touched you..."
"He wanted to help you, Tom. He wanted to help both of us." The second part was so soft Ah had ta strain ta hear it.
"I know my father has connections to the Press Gang! He's not helping anybody." He was pleadin' with her, beggin' her to believe him. Almost like if she did then he'd be justified. Ah wondered who the Press Gang was.
"Give it up, Tom. Please! I hate to see you like this."
"Like what?" There was a growlin' kinda dangerousness in his voice but Jenny didn't hear it or didn't care. From under th' house there was a stirring, like Avalanche does right before all hell breaks loose.
"Acting so crazy."
"I caught one."
Ah heard her gasp softly. "What?"
"Right here in the house. Sneaking in. From the look of him it has to be Pipeline."
"Are you sure?"
"No, I'm not sure, Jenny! How could anyone be sure? No one knows what they look like."
"No one believes they exist," she breathed.
"Well this one does, and he's down in my father's study."
They didn't say anythin' after that. Ah heard the shuffle o' their feet against the deep pile of the hallway carpet. My hand flew ta the knob. It rattled, but stayed put. Locked. "Fuck," Ah muttered. It wasn't gonna be a headache for long. Girl should always have a few tricks up her sleeve for emergency-type situations. Pickin' a lock is one o' mine. Ah was a bit rusty. Life at the Institute had changed me--sharpened some edges at the expense o' others. Still, Ah had the door open in sixty seconds flat. It was only after that, followin' Jenny an' Tom downstairs, that Ah really started ta wonder who'd locked that door and if it was for keepin' me in or keepin' somethin' out.
A thin streak o' light fell across the downstairs hallway and Ah moved toward it, careful where Ah put my feet. Jenny and Tom were inside with their backs ta me. They were crowded in front of a third person who seemed ta be tied up. Ah watched, fascinated, while Jenny picked the person up and hoisted him aloft, one handed like she was pickin' up a gallon o' milk.
Ah felt a shock o' recognition go through me. My stomach dropped in horror and Ah'm afraid Ah reacted before Ah even had a chance ta think things over. Ah burst into the room, goin' in low, scannin' the sidelines for a weapon. Outta the corner o' my eye, Ah saw Tom make a grab for me, but Ah dodged him and went after Jenny instead. All my good feelin's about her flew outta the window. Remy squirmed a little in her grasp, but mostly he looked dazed and out of it.
Runnin' into Jenny was like hittin' a stone wall. She didn't give an inch. Instead, she grabbed the back o' my borrowed nightshirt in her free hand and pulled me into th' air, the actual air. By the time Ah got my wind back we were hoverin' near the ceiling just as ordinary as anythin'. Ah tried ta reach around and grab Jenny's skin, but she held me as far away from herself as she could. Strangest thing ta look down and see your legs danglin' offa nothin'.
Ah heard that rumblin' again and this time the house shook with it. Pictures on the walls rattled. It was another moment before Ah could find my voice. "He's a friend o' mine, Jenny," Ah gasped. My nightshirt collar was diggin' into my throat.
She lowered me ta the ground but kept her hold on Remy. "You shouldn't be here, Rogue," she said sadly.
Ah rubbed my throat, smoothed th' nightshirt over my hips and tried my best ta look dignified. "Ah don't think he should be here either." Ah jerked a thumb at Tom. Facin' him full-on, he looked a lot like Phillip: brown- haired with a small tattoo on th' inside o' his right arm, tall an' muscular, but with somethin' wild in his face always switchin' between freedom an' craziness. He didn't seem impressed by my attempt at respectability.
"Who's this, Jenny? Another one of my father's 'volunteers'?"
Ah guess it was just somethin' about th' boys in the whole family that pissed me off. "My name's Rogue an' Ah don't know what the hell you're talkin' about."
Jenny touched Tom's arm. "She's only staying for the night, Tom."
He looked at me an' snorted. "That's what she thinks. Free tip, kid, don't ever fall asleep in my father's house."
It was about then that Remy came to. He looked at me, askin' for a distraction. Ah looked at Tom an' Jenny. They were off in their own li'l world, absorbed with problems Ah didn't give a damn 'bout. It was easy enough ta slip my fingers 'round Jenny's wrist.
Worst part was when she screamed. God, Ah never heard such a noise. Usually people go real quiet when Ah touch 'em, but not her. The power tore into me like fire and then she screamed. Ah was so startled, Ah pushed off the ground an' hit the ceilin' before Ah could get a hold o' myself. Remy used the opportunity ta break away from her, pushing his feet into her shoulder an' flippin' backwards ta the floor, landin' gracefully. He charged the ropes and they seemed ta dissolve offa him. Jenny crumpled like a paper cup. Ah let go o' her an' she dropped onto a couch, spillin' the cushions everywhere.
By that time, th' screams had woken up the doctor, or maybe he was never asleep. He took stock o' the room in a moment. As soon as Tom saw him, the house began ta quiver, plaster dust fallin' down from the ceilin'. Remy charged a card an' looked back an' forth from one ta the other, not knowin' what ta do. He looked at me again and Ah shrugged.
"It's good to see you, Thomas," David said. He was calm, especially considerin' the fact that his house seemed like it might fall on him any minute. Tom's only response was an inarticulate shout. The walls wobbled. "I only wish your homecomings weren't so dramatic. I'm still paying off the repair bills from the last time."
"You sent me to that camp to die!"
"I sent you to that camp to be cured."
"Is that what Trask calls it?" He had my whole attention then.
"Anyone would have done the same." There was somethin' in the doctor's hand, small, 'bout the size o' a car's keyless entry system. He raised his hand as if the thing were made o' lead, pressed a small button. There was an electronic twitterin' noise. Tom's posture changed, he stood straighter with his shoulders back--military style. Doctor Moreau looked over the room, from Jenny on th' couch ta Remy crouchin' on the floor ta me in the air. He sighed, heavy an' there was exhausted sadness in his face. "I think you'd all better come with me." He turned ta Tom. "665."
Suddenly, the house was fallin' and it was like my feelin' from before when Ah woke up and couldn't remember where Ah was, only it went on and on.
* * *
Woke up on de floor. Brain was workin' in spurts t' process de surroundings: cold, hard, concrete, cot, toilet. My head hurt somet'ing awful. Possible at dat moment I trade my soul for an aspirin, no problem. De pain in my head made it hard t' notice de pain in my arm, but when I pushed myself upright, I noticed dat right away. Long, burnin' spike clear up t'rough my shoulder.
"Putain (fucking hell)!" Wasn't hard t' see de problem. Dey'd been busy. Dere was a number tattooed inside my right arm, small and neat. Turned my arm over and squinted: 8749. A wail from de next cell brought me back t' de larger situation. Dere was a small grating at de base of de wall between de two rooms, large enough for a hand, mebbe, but not'ing else. I touched de bars, waitin' for de usual rush o' power, but not'ing happened. Dere was fear in my mouth den, but I swallowed it. "Qui c'est ça (who is that)?" Translated a second later. T'ing 'bout being bilingual is some o' de times you slip, lose your place inside de language you're speaking at de time.
"Ah guess Ah always kinda wanted a tattoo," Rogue said a moment later. Could hear in her voice dat she was tryin' t' convince herself dat everyt'ing was going t' be okay. Smiled despite de situation.
"Which one dey give you?"
"9602."
"I'm 8749. Funny. T'ought I asked for de number thirteen."
"Ah'm glad you can laugh at th' situation."
"Not'ing else t' do, beb. It's laugh or cry, neh? Your powers gone too?"
Dere was a long, breathless silence. "What about our powers?" Her voice trembled wit' hope and fright.
"Try dem."
Rogue pushed two ungloved fingers t'rough de grate an' brushed my hand. De sensation had not'ing t' do wit' draining. I heard Rogue's breath catch.
"How?" she asked, pleadin' wit' me t' give her de answer.
Tore me up t' disappoint her. "Don't know."
She continued t' stroke my skin, makin' de hair on my arms prick up. My coo-yon (foolish) heart leapt at dat. Kept tellin' myself she was drunk wit' de sensation. She didn't know what she was doin'. Had been amazin' t' see her, dazed as I was, chargin' t'rough dat door. Somehow she had become my cavalry. Felt good t' have someone t' watch my back.
"Ah didn't think anyone was over there."
Withdrawin' from her touch, lyin' flat on de floor an' putting one eye t' de grate, I could see a pale expanse of leg. "Lookin' good, chère."
She kicked a toe in my direction. "Eyes ta yourself, Cajun. Ya got any bright ideas 'bout how ta get us outta this mess?"
Rubbed my neck t' ease de pain in my head. My fingers ran across somet'ing raised under de skin. Had t' will myself not t' panic as I felt out de contours: rectangle, 'bout an inch an a half, hard, probably metal. "Just give me time," I said, but I t'ought it sounded forced.
"That's what Ah like ta hear." Her hand found my knee and traced lazy patterns.
"Never on de first date, beb," I said absently, still fingerin' de t'ing under my skin.
Rogue withdrew her fingers a little and I immediately regretted calling attention t' anyt'ing. "Ya wouldn't know what ta do with me on a date."
Amazing how a simple touch had changed de girl. "Dat a promise or a threat?"
De only response was an amused snort. "Ah was talkin' ta Jenny earlier," she said, more seriously, keepin' her voice quiet.
"Dat girl give Piotr a run for de money."
"She didn't know th' whole story, but she said that Tom is Doctor Moreau's older son an' he always suspected his father of bein' involved with a group of violent mutants workin' for th' Genoshan government."
"Trouble in paradise?"
"Not that Jenny said she ever noticed, but Tom was convinced that they were makin' mutants disappear. Keepin' 'em against their will ta do what the government wanted."
"She know how Trask fits into dis?"
"She said she never heard o' him before."
"You believe her?"
"Ah do. She has an honest face," Rogue finished wit' a touch of grimness. A commotion in de hallway and I snapped my head around. "Someone's comin'!" she hissed.
A male voice: "Wipeout, you're with me. Hold her down." I went cold all over.
"Rogue," I began, refocusing my attention t' de grate, but she was gone.
***
So what's the deal with the powers? I can tell you that it has nothing to do with Genoshan collars which (as someone on an x-board so bluntly told me) don't actually exist in comicverse. They were solely a conceit of the old animated show (I could always imagine Remy buying one as Rogue's Christmas gift...) Hmmm. It's certainly a quandry.