Mystique and Magneto's Great Culinary Caper
By Persephone
AN: First off, thanks to Red Witch, Eileen, todd fan, and Yelhsa D for your reviews! As always, I love hearing any feedback. Addressing the continuity of this fic, I don't actually think there is any. I have, due to the sleeping habits of a college student, missed most of season 3, so I just put all my favorites in where I want them, and like them the most. *shrugs* It works in my mind.
Chapter Two: Of Avalanches and Bricks
The next day:
"Here we are." Announced Mystique as the Brotherhood, plus one, collected in front of a large metal dome in the countryside surrounding Bayville with a scrolling marquis that read:
Magneto's Super-Secret, Hidden, Very Evil, No Good, Very Bad Lair, Welcome Guests, Dinner will be served at precisely 6:00 p.m.
Fred glanced at his watch. It was 7:45. Mystique didn't seem at all worried, though. She actually looked thankful to have arrived at all. The trip there had been, well, interesting, to say the least.
The entire Brotherhood had climbed into Mystique's Avalanche, and they had actually all fit. Lance, however, had pitched a first class hissy fit when he'd set eyes on Mystique's hulking black SUV, and clamored on about how unfair it was that Mystique drove an Avalanche. What was HIS code name, after all? Why couldn't Mystique drive a Mystique? They were nice, reliable ( for the most part) automobiles. She could even get a blue one. But noooo. She had to drive an Avalanche.
It had been about that point of the rant that Wanda had hit Lance with a rolled up newspaper. Lance had been knocked out. Maybe the brick the paper had been rolled around had something to do with that, but Fred couldn't be sure.
They had been cruising along out of Bayville when Todd screamed, "PULL OVER!"
Mystique was startled into doing just this, and Todd leapt out of the SUV to...
Hug a hitchhiker?
But, Fred realized, it wasn't just ANY hitchhiker. No sirree, this was a special hitchhiker. It was Charlie!
"Come on," he heard Todd tell Charlie before leading the scruffy man to the SUV and climbing in.
Mystique looked aghast, and Wanda was picking up her rolled up newspaper.
"Howdy-e-doo." Charlie said, tipping his sombrero.
"Where'd you get the sombrero?" asked Fred, staring with open curiosity at the giant purple and gold monstrosity that sat atop Charlie's lank brown hair.
"Eckle Bertstinelow." replied Charlie.
"Who is this?" Mystique asked in a low, dangerous voice.
"Shall I hit him?" Wanda inquired the fuming shapeshifter.
"No!" cried Todd. "He's our friend! Well, sorta."
"He did threaten to kill me once." mused Fred.
"But he's still a good guy!" Lance said to Charlie's defense. Mystique looked very, very confused. Charlie sat there, playing with the glow-in- the-dark plastic skeleton that he wore around his neck, muttering under his breath about orange blossoms and dung beetles.
"Who is he?" Mystique asked again, slightly more upset than she had been before.
"Charlie." answered Fred, Todd, and Lance simultaneously.
"Oh. Of course." said Mystique sarcastically. Wanda, who had set her rolled up newspaper down, picked it back up, and began to hit it to her hand, looking for all the world like a thug backing up her gang leader. Which, of course, was exactly what she was.
Fred finally realized that no one had bothered to tell Mystique of their grand adventure, which can be found by the title of Tales from the Road, by Persephone, if one truly wishes to discover the circumstance of the first meeting with Charlie, as well as the identity of Bob Marley and Robbie. However, in the likely case that a brief summary is desired here, Charlie met the Brotherhood while hitchhiking, insulted and befriended Victor Creed, and had nice time with them, despite his eccentricies. Charlie was last seen standing on the roadside after being kicked out due to Mr. Creed's worries that Charlie may interfere with his chances of getting a photo with Ozzy Osborne.
After hearing the tale, Mystique simply shook her head, and agreed to allow Charlie to accompany them to the grand dinner with Magneto for no reason other than that it sounded like Victor might not enjoy the company of the strange man under Magneto's strict guidance. Magneto, she had learned, disapproved of any sort of spontaneous actions on the part of his thugs.
So, with the new addition to the group stuck inside the SUV, which was beginning to get a wee bit crowded, they started off towards Magneto's lair. They cruised through the streets of Bayville. And they cruised some more. And they cruised even more.
It was when they had passed the Krispy Creme on Duncan Street for the third time that Fred began to think that they may be lost. He glanced to the driver's seat, where Mystique clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles had turned a translucent shade of white.
She had, of course, taken her "Raven Darkholme, professional lady" appearance for the ride over, as to not alarm any other denizens of the roadways, or would-be carjackers. Mystique had a .45 in her purse. She had mentioned several times over the course of her mentoring the young mutants that one of her fondest wishes would be to use the handgun against an uneducated, inexperienced thug to show them how it was really done.
Unfortunately, Mystique had failed to realize thus far that her principal- like appearance in her Raven form automatically deterred any would-be attackers. Many "inexperienced thugs" still experience panic attacks when faced with school authorities, mostly due to the ungodly hours they had spent in detention until giving up and taking the easier route out.
However, in the tried and true tradition of Murphy's Law, today was Mystique's lucky day. They, due to the retelling of Charlie's story, were Running Behind. In other words, they were Late! Late! For a very important date!
After the third consecutive left turn, Lance cautiously spoke up. "Are we, you know..."
Mystique growled in a tone the Sabretooth would be envious of. "No, I don't know. What?"
"I think he's trying to ask if we're lost." Todd said guilelessly. Poor, poor innocent Toad.
Mystique gripped the steering wheel even harder, and Fred marveled at the fact that the slim wheel did not bend under the stress Mystique was putting it under.
"We are NOT LOST!" Mystique snapped at the young mutant as they pulled up to a red light.
"Yeah, right." Todd muttered. Luckily, Mystique was too distracted by a ski masked man tapping on her window to hear this comment.
All in all, it was a small wonder that the man did not immediately run when Mystique rolled down the mirror-tinted window and smiled ferally in his direction. It was another wonder that he did not turn tail when Charlie leaned around her, still in the giant purple and gold sombrero, and giggled fiendishly. In the back seat, Wanda picked up her newspaper.
"Uhh... GET OUTTA THE CAR!" the man shrieked, voice pitched high from fear. He pointed his gun at Mystique.
"Just one moment." she said, and leaned over to rummage in her purse.
"Now, lady!" The man was shifting from foot to foot and looking around nervously. He'd only done this twice before, after all, and they had gone much quicker than this. Of course, the Pinto's owner had handed him the keys, while the other 'victim' had offered to run his Pacer through the car wash for him. The woman in the driver's seat, who looked disturbingly similar to his parole officer, smiled, and pulled a .45 out of her purse. The man stared down the barrel with a strangely blank eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen outside the city or Louisiana. The carjack-ees were not supposed to be armed. It was just wrong.
He realized that the hand holding his gun had fell to his side, leaving him defenseless to the woman in the SUV. He had two choices. Shoot or run.
After another long moment staring down the barrel, he chose to do both. He took a wild shot at the car, and then turned and ran, waving his gun around, and taking random shots. He thought that he heard a cry out, but that was lost in the blazing red haze of pain he suddenly found himself in.
He fell to the ground, and the world went black.
Back in the Avalanche, Mystique smiled, and dropped the gun back in her purse. She had hit that would-be carjacker right in the knee. Served the little cretin right.
"Ow..."
This plaintive moan caught Mystique's attention. She turned around, and was completely caught off guard by what she saw.
(Big dramatic noise)
To Be Continued....
Continued...
Todd lay splayed across the back seat, clutching his head. He moaned pitifully. Mystique glared at the young mutant.
"I'm injured! I need first aid! Or maybe mouth to mouth..." He trailed off, giving Wanda a sideways glance. She glared at him in the same manner anyone else would glare at doggy doo doo on the bottom of their shoes.
"What happened?" Mystique demanded. Look away long enough to shoot one lousy thug, and look what happens. Todd ends up wailing in pain, though she wasn't yet sure what was actually wrong with the boy.
"Wanda hit him with her brick." Fred finally replied, after sensing that no one else was willing to explain the events.
"Why would she do that?" Mystique's tone meant that Wanda had better have a good reason.
"His tongue touched my hand. It was disgusting." Wanda replied, shuddering with revulsion.
"But that wasn't until after..." Lance caught himself mid-snitch, and stopped talking abruptly. He glanced quickly at the other occupants of the back seat, and was rewarded with a death glare from Wanda that promised that he would pay for this slip.
"After what?" Mystique was almost positive that she did not want to know.
"After Wanda freaked out." Todd answered this time. "She didn't like Bob Marley."
"I couldn't help it! That thing is creepy! It was watching me, I know it!" Wanda defended herself fervently. Mystique noticed the girl shiver as she glanced up at Charlie. Weird. She never would have figured the girl as an ophidiophobic.
"But how did that lead to Todd licking your hand?" Why had she asked? She already knew where this would lead. It would lead to another vague answer that would stir her curiosity just enough to ask another pointless question. And did she just pass the Krispy Creme for the fifth time? Bayville was not big enough to get lost in! Especially not after living here, off and on, for a year!
"He tried to push Bob Marley back with his tongue, but missed and hit Wanda's hand instead. Then, she got mad and hit him upside the head with her brick." Fred, bless his big, simple soul, had finally given a complete answer. She made a mental note to not notice him sneaking food out of All- You-Can-Eat buffet next time.
"Why does the pretty girl have a brick?" Charlie asked, turning around in his seat to get a better look at the kids.
Wanda glared at him, and said, "You never know."
Charlie nodded, accepted this response, and turned back around.
"Lance, make sure Todd isn't going to die or anything." Mystique commanded, then turned her attention back to the road. Was she supposed to turn left, or right?
"Straight." Charlie said. Mystique gave him a sharp glance. He noticed, and responded, "People tend to get lost a lot when I'm in the car."
Mystique took the comment at face value, though she had to wonder if it was some kind of mutant power. It was a sucky one, inducing a bad sense of direction, but no worse than some that she'd heard in the past.
Lance called from the back seat, "Todd's fine, he's just got a new lump on his head. He's been moaning over nothing."
"It hurts! Why don't I hit YOU with a brick and see how much you like it!" Todd retorted.
"Shut UP! I'm trying to memorize the way there!" Wanda screeched.
"I'm hungry." Fred bemoaned.
"There once was a monk..." Charlie started to sing.
And so they were on their way yet again. They arrived. They collected in front of the large metal dome, read the scrolling marquis, and reflected on the journey there.
**** Reviews are greatly appreciated!
~Persephone
By Persephone
AN: First off, thanks to Red Witch, Eileen, todd fan, and Yelhsa D for your reviews! As always, I love hearing any feedback. Addressing the continuity of this fic, I don't actually think there is any. I have, due to the sleeping habits of a college student, missed most of season 3, so I just put all my favorites in where I want them, and like them the most. *shrugs* It works in my mind.
Chapter Two: Of Avalanches and Bricks
The next day:
"Here we are." Announced Mystique as the Brotherhood, plus one, collected in front of a large metal dome in the countryside surrounding Bayville with a scrolling marquis that read:
Magneto's Super-Secret, Hidden, Very Evil, No Good, Very Bad Lair, Welcome Guests, Dinner will be served at precisely 6:00 p.m.
Fred glanced at his watch. It was 7:45. Mystique didn't seem at all worried, though. She actually looked thankful to have arrived at all. The trip there had been, well, interesting, to say the least.
The entire Brotherhood had climbed into Mystique's Avalanche, and they had actually all fit. Lance, however, had pitched a first class hissy fit when he'd set eyes on Mystique's hulking black SUV, and clamored on about how unfair it was that Mystique drove an Avalanche. What was HIS code name, after all? Why couldn't Mystique drive a Mystique? They were nice, reliable ( for the most part) automobiles. She could even get a blue one. But noooo. She had to drive an Avalanche.
It had been about that point of the rant that Wanda had hit Lance with a rolled up newspaper. Lance had been knocked out. Maybe the brick the paper had been rolled around had something to do with that, but Fred couldn't be sure.
They had been cruising along out of Bayville when Todd screamed, "PULL OVER!"
Mystique was startled into doing just this, and Todd leapt out of the SUV to...
Hug a hitchhiker?
But, Fred realized, it wasn't just ANY hitchhiker. No sirree, this was a special hitchhiker. It was Charlie!
"Come on," he heard Todd tell Charlie before leading the scruffy man to the SUV and climbing in.
Mystique looked aghast, and Wanda was picking up her rolled up newspaper.
"Howdy-e-doo." Charlie said, tipping his sombrero.
"Where'd you get the sombrero?" asked Fred, staring with open curiosity at the giant purple and gold monstrosity that sat atop Charlie's lank brown hair.
"Eckle Bertstinelow." replied Charlie.
"Who is this?" Mystique asked in a low, dangerous voice.
"Shall I hit him?" Wanda inquired the fuming shapeshifter.
"No!" cried Todd. "He's our friend! Well, sorta."
"He did threaten to kill me once." mused Fred.
"But he's still a good guy!" Lance said to Charlie's defense. Mystique looked very, very confused. Charlie sat there, playing with the glow-in- the-dark plastic skeleton that he wore around his neck, muttering under his breath about orange blossoms and dung beetles.
"Who is he?" Mystique asked again, slightly more upset than she had been before.
"Charlie." answered Fred, Todd, and Lance simultaneously.
"Oh. Of course." said Mystique sarcastically. Wanda, who had set her rolled up newspaper down, picked it back up, and began to hit it to her hand, looking for all the world like a thug backing up her gang leader. Which, of course, was exactly what she was.
Fred finally realized that no one had bothered to tell Mystique of their grand adventure, which can be found by the title of Tales from the Road, by Persephone, if one truly wishes to discover the circumstance of the first meeting with Charlie, as well as the identity of Bob Marley and Robbie. However, in the likely case that a brief summary is desired here, Charlie met the Brotherhood while hitchhiking, insulted and befriended Victor Creed, and had nice time with them, despite his eccentricies. Charlie was last seen standing on the roadside after being kicked out due to Mr. Creed's worries that Charlie may interfere with his chances of getting a photo with Ozzy Osborne.
After hearing the tale, Mystique simply shook her head, and agreed to allow Charlie to accompany them to the grand dinner with Magneto for no reason other than that it sounded like Victor might not enjoy the company of the strange man under Magneto's strict guidance. Magneto, she had learned, disapproved of any sort of spontaneous actions on the part of his thugs.
So, with the new addition to the group stuck inside the SUV, which was beginning to get a wee bit crowded, they started off towards Magneto's lair. They cruised through the streets of Bayville. And they cruised some more. And they cruised even more.
It was when they had passed the Krispy Creme on Duncan Street for the third time that Fred began to think that they may be lost. He glanced to the driver's seat, where Mystique clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles had turned a translucent shade of white.
She had, of course, taken her "Raven Darkholme, professional lady" appearance for the ride over, as to not alarm any other denizens of the roadways, or would-be carjackers. Mystique had a .45 in her purse. She had mentioned several times over the course of her mentoring the young mutants that one of her fondest wishes would be to use the handgun against an uneducated, inexperienced thug to show them how it was really done.
Unfortunately, Mystique had failed to realize thus far that her principal- like appearance in her Raven form automatically deterred any would-be attackers. Many "inexperienced thugs" still experience panic attacks when faced with school authorities, mostly due to the ungodly hours they had spent in detention until giving up and taking the easier route out.
However, in the tried and true tradition of Murphy's Law, today was Mystique's lucky day. They, due to the retelling of Charlie's story, were Running Behind. In other words, they were Late! Late! For a very important date!
After the third consecutive left turn, Lance cautiously spoke up. "Are we, you know..."
Mystique growled in a tone the Sabretooth would be envious of. "No, I don't know. What?"
"I think he's trying to ask if we're lost." Todd said guilelessly. Poor, poor innocent Toad.
Mystique gripped the steering wheel even harder, and Fred marveled at the fact that the slim wheel did not bend under the stress Mystique was putting it under.
"We are NOT LOST!" Mystique snapped at the young mutant as they pulled up to a red light.
"Yeah, right." Todd muttered. Luckily, Mystique was too distracted by a ski masked man tapping on her window to hear this comment.
All in all, it was a small wonder that the man did not immediately run when Mystique rolled down the mirror-tinted window and smiled ferally in his direction. It was another wonder that he did not turn tail when Charlie leaned around her, still in the giant purple and gold sombrero, and giggled fiendishly. In the back seat, Wanda picked up her newspaper.
"Uhh... GET OUTTA THE CAR!" the man shrieked, voice pitched high from fear. He pointed his gun at Mystique.
"Just one moment." she said, and leaned over to rummage in her purse.
"Now, lady!" The man was shifting from foot to foot and looking around nervously. He'd only done this twice before, after all, and they had gone much quicker than this. Of course, the Pinto's owner had handed him the keys, while the other 'victim' had offered to run his Pacer through the car wash for him. The woman in the driver's seat, who looked disturbingly similar to his parole officer, smiled, and pulled a .45 out of her purse. The man stared down the barrel with a strangely blank eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen outside the city or Louisiana. The carjack-ees were not supposed to be armed. It was just wrong.
He realized that the hand holding his gun had fell to his side, leaving him defenseless to the woman in the SUV. He had two choices. Shoot or run.
After another long moment staring down the barrel, he chose to do both. He took a wild shot at the car, and then turned and ran, waving his gun around, and taking random shots. He thought that he heard a cry out, but that was lost in the blazing red haze of pain he suddenly found himself in.
He fell to the ground, and the world went black.
Back in the Avalanche, Mystique smiled, and dropped the gun back in her purse. She had hit that would-be carjacker right in the knee. Served the little cretin right.
"Ow..."
This plaintive moan caught Mystique's attention. She turned around, and was completely caught off guard by what she saw.
(Big dramatic noise)
To Be Continued....
Continued...
Todd lay splayed across the back seat, clutching his head. He moaned pitifully. Mystique glared at the young mutant.
"I'm injured! I need first aid! Or maybe mouth to mouth..." He trailed off, giving Wanda a sideways glance. She glared at him in the same manner anyone else would glare at doggy doo doo on the bottom of their shoes.
"What happened?" Mystique demanded. Look away long enough to shoot one lousy thug, and look what happens. Todd ends up wailing in pain, though she wasn't yet sure what was actually wrong with the boy.
"Wanda hit him with her brick." Fred finally replied, after sensing that no one else was willing to explain the events.
"Why would she do that?" Mystique's tone meant that Wanda had better have a good reason.
"His tongue touched my hand. It was disgusting." Wanda replied, shuddering with revulsion.
"But that wasn't until after..." Lance caught himself mid-snitch, and stopped talking abruptly. He glanced quickly at the other occupants of the back seat, and was rewarded with a death glare from Wanda that promised that he would pay for this slip.
"After what?" Mystique was almost positive that she did not want to know.
"After Wanda freaked out." Todd answered this time. "She didn't like Bob Marley."
"I couldn't help it! That thing is creepy! It was watching me, I know it!" Wanda defended herself fervently. Mystique noticed the girl shiver as she glanced up at Charlie. Weird. She never would have figured the girl as an ophidiophobic.
"But how did that lead to Todd licking your hand?" Why had she asked? She already knew where this would lead. It would lead to another vague answer that would stir her curiosity just enough to ask another pointless question. And did she just pass the Krispy Creme for the fifth time? Bayville was not big enough to get lost in! Especially not after living here, off and on, for a year!
"He tried to push Bob Marley back with his tongue, but missed and hit Wanda's hand instead. Then, she got mad and hit him upside the head with her brick." Fred, bless his big, simple soul, had finally given a complete answer. She made a mental note to not notice him sneaking food out of All- You-Can-Eat buffet next time.
"Why does the pretty girl have a brick?" Charlie asked, turning around in his seat to get a better look at the kids.
Wanda glared at him, and said, "You never know."
Charlie nodded, accepted this response, and turned back around.
"Lance, make sure Todd isn't going to die or anything." Mystique commanded, then turned her attention back to the road. Was she supposed to turn left, or right?
"Straight." Charlie said. Mystique gave him a sharp glance. He noticed, and responded, "People tend to get lost a lot when I'm in the car."
Mystique took the comment at face value, though she had to wonder if it was some kind of mutant power. It was a sucky one, inducing a bad sense of direction, but no worse than some that she'd heard in the past.
Lance called from the back seat, "Todd's fine, he's just got a new lump on his head. He's been moaning over nothing."
"It hurts! Why don't I hit YOU with a brick and see how much you like it!" Todd retorted.
"Shut UP! I'm trying to memorize the way there!" Wanda screeched.
"I'm hungry." Fred bemoaned.
"There once was a monk..." Charlie started to sing.
And so they were on their way yet again. They arrived. They collected in front of the large metal dome, read the scrolling marquis, and reflected on the journey there.
**** Reviews are greatly appreciated!
~Persephone