author: Lucinda
Crimson Fear is story #3 in Crimson arc.
main character is Psylocke, contains Betsy/Warren
disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Marvel comics.
distribution: please ask first. Psyknife and Luba may have this series if they want it.
note again that :words in colons: indicate telepathy
also note that I am taking this in a direction different from the one Marvel took, so this series is to be considered Alternate Universe.
Logan was worried. Betsy had been attacked by Sabertooth, savagely carved open and left to bleed, and if her telepathic cry had not reached them, she would have died. He had helped Warren acquire something to heal her, something called the Essence of the Crimson Dawn. It had been a difficult and exhausting journey, one that had tested their bodies and their determination before they had been permitted to take the essence with them. It had made Betsy's wounds heal, as if they had never been. She was no longer wounded, and none of them had left even a faint scar.
Not a scar of the flesh at least.
She had awoken with a mark over her eye, a pair of crimson lines in a shape, something that whispered to him of knives, swords... and the oldest style of markings to represent blades. It wasn't exactly a tattoo, not did it have the look of a scar, but.. something about it was unnatural. It stayed the exact color of fresh blood, no matter what lighting she was in, he could always see the bloody mark over her eye.
Unnatural, and unnatural again that her eyes seemed to look almost red in the darkness, as if they had embers burning behind them.
She wasn't acting the same, not exactly. She seemed quieter, less willing to join in the chatter and conversations that would goon through the mansion. Maybe she was just feeling serious from being gutted. She was doing her ninja walking again, moving with almost no noise, quiet as a mouse, a moving shadow undetectable to most. Jean and the Professor could feel her presence, Remy knew where she was.
Remy was avoiding her now, no longer playing the same teasing flirting games that he played with every other female in the area, including a few that were still underage. Not that the Cajun normally meant anything other than that the girls looked pretty, but... it said something that he was avoiding Betsy. Logan wasn't certain what it meant, but... Remy normally had a damn good instinct for trouble. If he had the feeling that something was off about Betsy now, then something wasn't the same as it was supposed to be. He was acting skittish, as if Betsy made his skin crawl, but he hadn't said anything. Not a single word.
Betsy wasn't being as conversational. She wasn't chatting here or there with the other team women. She wasn't going on the sweet little walks and stolen moments with Warren, although Logan could tell that they were still together during the nights. They carried each other's scents on their bodies, and to be blunt, Logan could hear them at night.
His enhanced hearing could be a real problem sometimes.
Betsy seemed edgier. She seemed to be almost distant, and moody. As if her mind wasn't here with the rest of her. As if her mind were dwelling elsewhere, on something else, some other moment beyond now. It was almost as if she resented having her attention pulled back to the present, and she would snap at people, getting angry over things that she would have ignored or dismissed two weeks ago.
It wasn't right. She wasn't acting quite like herself. She smelled like Betsy, like herself, only tinged with anger, with hunger. But her behavior wasn't right, like an actor that had the part slightly wrong, slightly out of focus.
He would have dismissed the behavior as just a reaction to being gutted except for the other little things. None of them were anything large, nothing that would have amounted to much alone, but they were there, and they added up to something being off from how it should be.
Remy was avoiding Betsy, as if he was afraid of her now. Warren... Warren seemed tired all the time, far more than the sexual athletics taking place at night should have been leaving him. Betsy wasn't eating as much as she had before, and had complained several times of things tasting funny, blander than they should be. She seemed distant emotionally, and when she wasn't distant, she was snapping, more temperamental than normal. She was also doing the telepath thing more, thinking to someone to check this or that rather than asking.
Warren wasn't the only person being tired more than normal. Everyone that Betsy was thinking to often seemed a bit more tired, a bit less energetic. Warren was the most affected, but he could see it in Jean, in Scott, and Beast. Rogue had always been difficult for telepath's to reach, so Betsy had never thought much to her. Logan also knew that most telepaths found it difficult to contact him telepathically; apparently his shadowed memories and enhanced perceptions of his surroundings were disorienting at best, painful at worst for telepaths.
Betsy had been thinking to him over the past week. She would send her thoughts out to him, ask him about things, had she remembered to get this, was there enough of that, what time was the danger room open? Every time her mind touched his, he could feel in her this darkness, as if her mind was a room with the lights turned very low, and there was a feeling of hunger, a dark, secret hunger, and the hovering weight of anger, like a dark cloud over her.
Something was very wrong. He didn't know what it was, how it had happened, although Logan suspected that since it had happened after Betsy had drank the Essence of the Crimson Dawn that that fluid, that essence had caused or contributed to this change. That would make it some sort of mystical change, something arcane and magical and unpredictable.
Warren was getting more drawn out, and was starting to look as if he was loosing weight, not that bird-boy had any to spare. Logan had the feeing that something bad was going to show itself, and probably through Warren. He was looking like the weak link right now. Something bad was developing, and Logan wasn't certain what was behind it, or how to stop it. He just knew that whatever was happening was happening through Betsy, and because of that elixir. And that it was bad, and only going to get worse.
A sudden scream filled the air, piercing and filled with shock and fear. It was coming from outside, near the pond, and if he was correct, it sounded like Rogue was the one screaming. Logan was already moving, his senses attempting to find some cause, to learn the cause of Rogue's fear/shock/startlement, preferably before it bit him...
Warren was collapsed in a small group of shrubs, his clothing in disarray. The scent of sex hung in the air, almost as thick as Rogue's fear. Warren wasn't moving, despite the screams.
He looked pale, almost grey under the blue, and too thin, much too thin. There was only the faintest movement of his chest to indicate that he was still alive.
The only scents in the area were Warren, Betsy, Rogue and nature, and now Logan's scent. Either Something purely psychic or mystical had stuck Warren down, or his interlude with Betsy had done this to him. Logan had heard of someone wearing their partner out, but this just wasn't natural.
:Logan!?! What is going on?: The Professor's voice rang in Logan's mind, carrying no traces of hunger, only concern/confusion. There was also the feeling that he hadn't been able to get through to Rogue, which would explain why he had contacted Logan.
After perhaps a heartbeat's hesitation, Logan sent the situation to the Professor, feeling that it was important that the Professor know as much as possible about what had happened. He was a smart man, he would be able to follow the scent patterns, understand that the only sign of something happening was Betsy and Warren's interlude, and Warren's collapse. Betsy had vanished, with no scent of fear, and Warren had fallen, but was still alive. Rogue was having hysterics, and Warren looked completely drained.
During Rogue's screaming, Betsy slid out of a shadow in the med lab, her eyes glittering red for a moment, startling Hank with her sudden appearance. :Something's happened to Warren. He collapsed by the lake.:
Hank shook off his startlement and fatigue to try to get everything ready to deal with Warren. He turned to ask Betsy what had caused the collapse just in time to see her quite literally vanish into the shadow, exiting the room.
When had she learned how to do that? How had she done that? Hmm, question Betsy's new abilities later, prepare to treat Warren now.
end Crimson Fear.
Crimson Fear is story #3 in Crimson arc.
main character is Psylocke, contains Betsy/Warren
disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Marvel comics.
distribution: please ask first. Psyknife and Luba may have this series if they want it.
note again that :words in colons: indicate telepathy
also note that I am taking this in a direction different from the one Marvel took, so this series is to be considered Alternate Universe.
Logan was worried. Betsy had been attacked by Sabertooth, savagely carved open and left to bleed, and if her telepathic cry had not reached them, she would have died. He had helped Warren acquire something to heal her, something called the Essence of the Crimson Dawn. It had been a difficult and exhausting journey, one that had tested their bodies and their determination before they had been permitted to take the essence with them. It had made Betsy's wounds heal, as if they had never been. She was no longer wounded, and none of them had left even a faint scar.
Not a scar of the flesh at least.
She had awoken with a mark over her eye, a pair of crimson lines in a shape, something that whispered to him of knives, swords... and the oldest style of markings to represent blades. It wasn't exactly a tattoo, not did it have the look of a scar, but.. something about it was unnatural. It stayed the exact color of fresh blood, no matter what lighting she was in, he could always see the bloody mark over her eye.
Unnatural, and unnatural again that her eyes seemed to look almost red in the darkness, as if they had embers burning behind them.
She wasn't acting the same, not exactly. She seemed quieter, less willing to join in the chatter and conversations that would goon through the mansion. Maybe she was just feeling serious from being gutted. She was doing her ninja walking again, moving with almost no noise, quiet as a mouse, a moving shadow undetectable to most. Jean and the Professor could feel her presence, Remy knew where she was.
Remy was avoiding her now, no longer playing the same teasing flirting games that he played with every other female in the area, including a few that were still underage. Not that the Cajun normally meant anything other than that the girls looked pretty, but... it said something that he was avoiding Betsy. Logan wasn't certain what it meant, but... Remy normally had a damn good instinct for trouble. If he had the feeling that something was off about Betsy now, then something wasn't the same as it was supposed to be. He was acting skittish, as if Betsy made his skin crawl, but he hadn't said anything. Not a single word.
Betsy wasn't being as conversational. She wasn't chatting here or there with the other team women. She wasn't going on the sweet little walks and stolen moments with Warren, although Logan could tell that they were still together during the nights. They carried each other's scents on their bodies, and to be blunt, Logan could hear them at night.
His enhanced hearing could be a real problem sometimes.
Betsy seemed edgier. She seemed to be almost distant, and moody. As if her mind wasn't here with the rest of her. As if her mind were dwelling elsewhere, on something else, some other moment beyond now. It was almost as if she resented having her attention pulled back to the present, and she would snap at people, getting angry over things that she would have ignored or dismissed two weeks ago.
It wasn't right. She wasn't acting quite like herself. She smelled like Betsy, like herself, only tinged with anger, with hunger. But her behavior wasn't right, like an actor that had the part slightly wrong, slightly out of focus.
He would have dismissed the behavior as just a reaction to being gutted except for the other little things. None of them were anything large, nothing that would have amounted to much alone, but they were there, and they added up to something being off from how it should be.
Remy was avoiding Betsy, as if he was afraid of her now. Warren... Warren seemed tired all the time, far more than the sexual athletics taking place at night should have been leaving him. Betsy wasn't eating as much as she had before, and had complained several times of things tasting funny, blander than they should be. She seemed distant emotionally, and when she wasn't distant, she was snapping, more temperamental than normal. She was also doing the telepath thing more, thinking to someone to check this or that rather than asking.
Warren wasn't the only person being tired more than normal. Everyone that Betsy was thinking to often seemed a bit more tired, a bit less energetic. Warren was the most affected, but he could see it in Jean, in Scott, and Beast. Rogue had always been difficult for telepath's to reach, so Betsy had never thought much to her. Logan also knew that most telepaths found it difficult to contact him telepathically; apparently his shadowed memories and enhanced perceptions of his surroundings were disorienting at best, painful at worst for telepaths.
Betsy had been thinking to him over the past week. She would send her thoughts out to him, ask him about things, had she remembered to get this, was there enough of that, what time was the danger room open? Every time her mind touched his, he could feel in her this darkness, as if her mind was a room with the lights turned very low, and there was a feeling of hunger, a dark, secret hunger, and the hovering weight of anger, like a dark cloud over her.
Something was very wrong. He didn't know what it was, how it had happened, although Logan suspected that since it had happened after Betsy had drank the Essence of the Crimson Dawn that that fluid, that essence had caused or contributed to this change. That would make it some sort of mystical change, something arcane and magical and unpredictable.
Warren was getting more drawn out, and was starting to look as if he was loosing weight, not that bird-boy had any to spare. Logan had the feeing that something bad was going to show itself, and probably through Warren. He was looking like the weak link right now. Something bad was developing, and Logan wasn't certain what was behind it, or how to stop it. He just knew that whatever was happening was happening through Betsy, and because of that elixir. And that it was bad, and only going to get worse.
A sudden scream filled the air, piercing and filled with shock and fear. It was coming from outside, near the pond, and if he was correct, it sounded like Rogue was the one screaming. Logan was already moving, his senses attempting to find some cause, to learn the cause of Rogue's fear/shock/startlement, preferably before it bit him...
Warren was collapsed in a small group of shrubs, his clothing in disarray. The scent of sex hung in the air, almost as thick as Rogue's fear. Warren wasn't moving, despite the screams.
He looked pale, almost grey under the blue, and too thin, much too thin. There was only the faintest movement of his chest to indicate that he was still alive.
The only scents in the area were Warren, Betsy, Rogue and nature, and now Logan's scent. Either Something purely psychic or mystical had stuck Warren down, or his interlude with Betsy had done this to him. Logan had heard of someone wearing their partner out, but this just wasn't natural.
:Logan!?! What is going on?: The Professor's voice rang in Logan's mind, carrying no traces of hunger, only concern/confusion. There was also the feeling that he hadn't been able to get through to Rogue, which would explain why he had contacted Logan.
After perhaps a heartbeat's hesitation, Logan sent the situation to the Professor, feeling that it was important that the Professor know as much as possible about what had happened. He was a smart man, he would be able to follow the scent patterns, understand that the only sign of something happening was Betsy and Warren's interlude, and Warren's collapse. Betsy had vanished, with no scent of fear, and Warren had fallen, but was still alive. Rogue was having hysterics, and Warren looked completely drained.
During Rogue's screaming, Betsy slid out of a shadow in the med lab, her eyes glittering red for a moment, startling Hank with her sudden appearance. :Something's happened to Warren. He collapsed by the lake.:
Hank shook off his startlement and fatigue to try to get everything ready to deal with Warren. He turned to ask Betsy what had caused the collapse just in time to see her quite literally vanish into the shadow, exiting the room.
When had she learned how to do that? How had she done that? Hmm, question Betsy's new abilities later, prepare to treat Warren now.
end Crimson Fear.