Disclaimer: I do not own X-men Evolution
Title: Part One : The Bamf Generator
AU: The first Part of a series, but each story can/should be able to stand alone-mainly concerned with Logan/Wolverine, Nightcrawler/Kurt, Rogue and Remy/Gambit.
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Chapter Three: Caged
The barman hit the floor with a resonating thud running up his spine.
"No thinking - gotcha!" he eagerly followed the demands.
"Back to business" the man with the claws leaned an elbow on the bar. The small, partially hidden child now happily gurgling in a haze of chemical unawareness.
'Maybe he's only three' Logan internally snorted at the toddler.
The bar man picked up another glass, ignoring the shattered one on the floor, and continued his earlier nervous habit, "With your…talents" he cautiously approached the topic, "I'm sure you're tough enough to make some cash in the fighting cage".
"Fighting cage?" his interest was peaked.
"Yeah. You wouldn't be able to use those claws or nothing but you seem like
the fightin' type" the bar man suggested.
"Show me" the Wolverine got off his stool, backpack on shoulders, runt in one arm.
He withdrew his claws and vaguely watched in morbid fascination as the wounds from the torn skin healed.
The he followed the swiftly retreating bar man to that 'hidden' back room.
Smoke was visible and thick in the air; smells of cigars seemed to appeal to him, the smell of beer making him smirk at the almost comforting atmosphere. The whole pub was made of a wood that smell strongly but even that was suffocated in the other smells.
A big metal cage was set-up in the room, nothing that Wolverine couldn't slice through.
Two men fought in the cage, circling each other like alley cats and then giving into their lack of patience and leaping for each other, blood flying from jaws and noses. 'Just the way fighting should be' Wolverine kept an eye on the fight as he was led up to the 'main' man of the operation.
He looked rather tired, bored in the atmosphere, placing random bets and sitting back. Obviously he'd been running this little illegal set-up for a long time and it had lost its thrill. His clothes consisted of a suit; pinstriped, a black tie and tattered brown hiking boots. A rather odd combination but each to his own.
"So you're the new man that Jacks going on about" he lazily looked Wolverine over, checking for weapons or just being nosey.
The barman Jack scurried away; he was also the 'look-out' in case the oblivious Sheriff decided to come by.
"Yeah" Logan replied but not hastily.
"Its twelve dollars to enter the cage, the prize is two hundred dollars a night- probably more" the 'main man' spoke with a peculiar accent, Russian- perhaps, "And I'm the man you pay to get into the cage- the names Peter and the second names 'none of your business'"
Peter looked tired, fed up, almost running on automatic. Actions without thinking and words that he'd probably spoken to numerous people. He was tall, cropped hair, almost dead eyes that were once enthusiastic.
Wolverine had to wonder how the man had ended up here- running a fighting cage in a crummy pub.
"Don't have the entrance fee but I will after the first fight" Wolverines voice was getting a little rougher; he should have got a drink at the bar.
"Confident, aren't we?" this earned a smile from the Russian man "I like that".
"Humph, just stating it as it is" Wolverine smirked.
"Fine. You're next up" was the short reply.
Wolverine knew that he couldn't take the kid or his backpack into the cage,
"You have a room I can stay in?" Logan somehow made it sound like a threat.
The Russian man wasn't scared and with a casual nod, "Yeah" he tossed Wolverine the keys, "Second floor, room at the end. If you win in the cage tonight I'll let you stay. If not- I'll evict you"
"Fine" snarled Wolverine although he knew that he wouldn't loose. He just had to drop off his luggage- both the bag and the kid.
Leaving the smoky, scummy environment, his footsteps caused the floorboards to creak as he walked down the corridor. He looked down at the kid.
Up until now he hadn't really been in a situation to actually give some attention to the little gurgling bundle.
Sure he'd thought of his age, what had been done to him but he hadn't actually looked at the brat- just carried him, bare minimum that his conscience had suggested.
He looked sniffed the air, instantly looking down at the kid, the child didn't smell completely human or mutant.
Usually he could tell if someone was a mutant by the smell of their powers, most powers had a unique smell that set them apart from humans but the kid just smelled of a fine balanced mix. Usually the mutant scent was stronger than the human scent. The kid's scent was not, which was strange considering the bluish demonic appearance.
Wrapped around the kids waist was a tail, it even had the spade at the end. Although the kid looked like a demon, when he looked up at Logan with big yellowish eyes and a small scared smile- the young mutant looked as innocent as an angel.
Disturbing.
Logan shoved the key into the lock and twisted in a foul temper.
He could barely stand living with the scattered memories of his prison, the torture of the experiments. He could remember the most unsettling things and for some reason they provoked him into losing his temper- his control.
So far it had only been the little blue demon in his arms that was forcing him to keep a lid on how much rage he felt.
But the Wolverine would eventually lose his cool and he hoped that the kid wasn't around to witness it. He wondered if the youngster would remember his own imprisonment. Wolverine hoped not.
Entering the small but, as advertised- cosy room he wearily ambled over to the bed.
He noticed that there was a cot in the room for his small friend.
That Russian guy had pretended not to even notice the child but apparently he had and Logan was grateful. Peter was a decent man, if not a little too trusting in Wolverines opinion.
"Ok kid" he roughly dropped the mutant child into the cot, "Stay" he commanded.
The kid frowned, "Not animal!"
Logan had no idea what the kid had just whispered, it had sounded German. Logan racked his brain; he knew Japanese or was it Chinese? but not German.
He frowned in concentration but in the fragments of his memory he still couldn't find out what the child was saying.
He shrugged, "Whatever".
"Whatever" the kid repeated in English and turned his back on Logan.
He didn't have time to play 'happy families'. This kid wasn't his responsibility.
He didn't have responsibilities and he didn't need this!
He wanted his mind under control; the constant burning rage was infecting his thoughts. His claws * Snikt * out and he rammed them into the wall and sliced down, creating a draft in the room.
He roared, the child cowered- but he didn't notice.
Retracting his claws with a breathy sigh, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door on the way out as he tried to gain back some precious control.
He made his way down to The Cage.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Please review!!!
AN: Um yeah- Wolverine thinks Kurts about 5 yrs old, Kurt thinks hes about 7.
Title: Part One : The Bamf Generator
AU: The first Part of a series, but each story can/should be able to stand alone-mainly concerned with Logan/Wolverine, Nightcrawler/Kurt, Rogue and Remy/Gambit.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Three: Caged
The barman hit the floor with a resonating thud running up his spine.
"No thinking - gotcha!" he eagerly followed the demands.
"Back to business" the man with the claws leaned an elbow on the bar. The small, partially hidden child now happily gurgling in a haze of chemical unawareness.
'Maybe he's only three' Logan internally snorted at the toddler.
The bar man picked up another glass, ignoring the shattered one on the floor, and continued his earlier nervous habit, "With your…talents" he cautiously approached the topic, "I'm sure you're tough enough to make some cash in the fighting cage".
"Fighting cage?" his interest was peaked.
"Yeah. You wouldn't be able to use those claws or nothing but you seem like
the fightin' type" the bar man suggested.
"Show me" the Wolverine got off his stool, backpack on shoulders, runt in one arm.
He withdrew his claws and vaguely watched in morbid fascination as the wounds from the torn skin healed.
The he followed the swiftly retreating bar man to that 'hidden' back room.
Smoke was visible and thick in the air; smells of cigars seemed to appeal to him, the smell of beer making him smirk at the almost comforting atmosphere. The whole pub was made of a wood that smell strongly but even that was suffocated in the other smells.
A big metal cage was set-up in the room, nothing that Wolverine couldn't slice through.
Two men fought in the cage, circling each other like alley cats and then giving into their lack of patience and leaping for each other, blood flying from jaws and noses. 'Just the way fighting should be' Wolverine kept an eye on the fight as he was led up to the 'main' man of the operation.
He looked rather tired, bored in the atmosphere, placing random bets and sitting back. Obviously he'd been running this little illegal set-up for a long time and it had lost its thrill. His clothes consisted of a suit; pinstriped, a black tie and tattered brown hiking boots. A rather odd combination but each to his own.
"So you're the new man that Jacks going on about" he lazily looked Wolverine over, checking for weapons or just being nosey.
The barman Jack scurried away; he was also the 'look-out' in case the oblivious Sheriff decided to come by.
"Yeah" Logan replied but not hastily.
"Its twelve dollars to enter the cage, the prize is two hundred dollars a night- probably more" the 'main man' spoke with a peculiar accent, Russian- perhaps, "And I'm the man you pay to get into the cage- the names Peter and the second names 'none of your business'"
Peter looked tired, fed up, almost running on automatic. Actions without thinking and words that he'd probably spoken to numerous people. He was tall, cropped hair, almost dead eyes that were once enthusiastic.
Wolverine had to wonder how the man had ended up here- running a fighting cage in a crummy pub.
"Don't have the entrance fee but I will after the first fight" Wolverines voice was getting a little rougher; he should have got a drink at the bar.
"Confident, aren't we?" this earned a smile from the Russian man "I like that".
"Humph, just stating it as it is" Wolverine smirked.
"Fine. You're next up" was the short reply.
Wolverine knew that he couldn't take the kid or his backpack into the cage,
"You have a room I can stay in?" Logan somehow made it sound like a threat.
The Russian man wasn't scared and with a casual nod, "Yeah" he tossed Wolverine the keys, "Second floor, room at the end. If you win in the cage tonight I'll let you stay. If not- I'll evict you"
"Fine" snarled Wolverine although he knew that he wouldn't loose. He just had to drop off his luggage- both the bag and the kid.
Leaving the smoky, scummy environment, his footsteps caused the floorboards to creak as he walked down the corridor. He looked down at the kid.
Up until now he hadn't really been in a situation to actually give some attention to the little gurgling bundle.
Sure he'd thought of his age, what had been done to him but he hadn't actually looked at the brat- just carried him, bare minimum that his conscience had suggested.
He looked sniffed the air, instantly looking down at the kid, the child didn't smell completely human or mutant.
Usually he could tell if someone was a mutant by the smell of their powers, most powers had a unique smell that set them apart from humans but the kid just smelled of a fine balanced mix. Usually the mutant scent was stronger than the human scent. The kid's scent was not, which was strange considering the bluish demonic appearance.
Wrapped around the kids waist was a tail, it even had the spade at the end. Although the kid looked like a demon, when he looked up at Logan with big yellowish eyes and a small scared smile- the young mutant looked as innocent as an angel.
Disturbing.
Logan shoved the key into the lock and twisted in a foul temper.
He could barely stand living with the scattered memories of his prison, the torture of the experiments. He could remember the most unsettling things and for some reason they provoked him into losing his temper- his control.
So far it had only been the little blue demon in his arms that was forcing him to keep a lid on how much rage he felt.
But the Wolverine would eventually lose his cool and he hoped that the kid wasn't around to witness it. He wondered if the youngster would remember his own imprisonment. Wolverine hoped not.
Entering the small but, as advertised- cosy room he wearily ambled over to the bed.
He noticed that there was a cot in the room for his small friend.
That Russian guy had pretended not to even notice the child but apparently he had and Logan was grateful. Peter was a decent man, if not a little too trusting in Wolverines opinion.
"Ok kid" he roughly dropped the mutant child into the cot, "Stay" he commanded.
The kid frowned, "Not animal!"
Logan had no idea what the kid had just whispered, it had sounded German. Logan racked his brain; he knew Japanese or was it Chinese? but not German.
He frowned in concentration but in the fragments of his memory he still couldn't find out what the child was saying.
He shrugged, "Whatever".
"Whatever" the kid repeated in English and turned his back on Logan.
He didn't have time to play 'happy families'. This kid wasn't his responsibility.
He didn't have responsibilities and he didn't need this!
He wanted his mind under control; the constant burning rage was infecting his thoughts. His claws * Snikt * out and he rammed them into the wall and sliced down, creating a draft in the room.
He roared, the child cowered- but he didn't notice.
Retracting his claws with a breathy sigh, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door on the way out as he tried to gain back some precious control.
He made his way down to The Cage.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Please review!!!
AN: Um yeah- Wolverine thinks Kurts about 5 yrs old, Kurt thinks hes about 7.
