X-Men:
Dawn of Destruction
"New Arrivals"
Dew-clung grass glistened in the morning sun as clocks throughout the Xavier Institute for the Gifted struck nine forty-three. The morning was beautiful, and Professor Xavier-called Professor X by many of his students- studied the spirited sunshine as it poured through the draped window that manifested behind his desk. He smiled at the new day, clasping his hands together.
So many more new mutants were scheduled to show up at his doorstep today-and Professor Xavier was willing to let them in with open arms. They all needed his help-just as young Kurt Wagner had last year-on this exact same day. It was this day, October 25th, that Jean and Storm had found him hiding in that rundown church.
Jean. Remorse filled the elderly bald man at the sound of her name echoing through her mind. Cyclops hadn't been the same after the incident at the dam with Stryker. He had been short and cross with the students and had almost even gotten into a physical fight with Wolverine-something the professor never dreamed one of his favorite students would do.
But then again, Jean had been such a great student too-just lacking self-confidence. She was always short on her own self-ability, never wanting to give her all because she was afraid of failure. To this day he had no idea how she could have controlled so many things at once-how she could've pulled off what she did.
He shook the thoughts from his head. The school had been running extremely smoothly since the incident. They had just added a new wing for the incoming crowd of students as well as a new curriculum. Some of the students strived for more of an education-so they were allowed into Bayville High School and studied their mutant powers part-time and on weekends. As long as the students kept their powers a secret, he saw no problem in them seeking to be more intelligent. He just wanted to make sure that they knew how to use their powers. The school had already lost Pyro because of his rash self-confidence, selfishness, and disrespect for authority.
Lost him to Professor Xavier's worst nightmare: Magneto. There could be no worse place for the young, impressionable boy to be than with him and his lackey, Mystique. They would be able to use him more violently than the Professor could even imagine.
He glanced out the window once more. Cerebro had tracked down a scared, lonely mutant who was just on the outskirts of LA. She was young, about seventeen. She was African-American, tall, slender, with long, black hair. Professor X could make out the tear-streaks down her face and just by looking at her he could tell that her parents didn't approve of her powers. The pit in his stomach had tightened at the thought of a young, impressionable mutant (like Pyro) out on the streets, where anyone could take advantage of her.
That's why he had sent Storm and Nightcrawler to make sure she made it to the Academy. He didn't want her anywhere else.
As he admired the garden bordering his office one last time before turning and exiting he could make out a soaring figure tear through his rose plants. He heard a yelp, and a loud explosion erupted from the northern edge of the garden.
Professor Xavier sighed and concentrated briefly before slipping a message into the young boy's mind.
"Be CAREFUL, Mr. Sharra."
From outside, in the garden, a disheveled looking boy in a baggy flannel shirt and baggy, torn jeans got to his feet. He shook his head; a wild mane of black hair tossed out rose petals, and looked through the window at his Professor. He waved slightly to show he was okay and embarrassedly sauntered toward the mansion.
Professor X smiled. Neal Sharra, aka Thunderbird, was practically the Jean Grey of the students. He tried hard to please, but never really went the extra distance because he was afraid of what he might do to mess up. Neal had probably woken up at six-as he always did on Saturdays-to improve his solar-controlling ability.
Thunderbird was able to draw energy from the Sun and wield it in the form of plasma blasts radiated from his hands.
While most of the students were probably just getting up-or far from it-Neal had been practicing since the break of day. Professor X wheeled his way toward the kitchen where only a few patrons were patrolling for food.
"Hey Professor!" greeted the smiley-face Asian female as she slurped a scoop of chocolate-chip ice cream.
Professor X smiled, "Good morning Jubilee."
From the sink, gulping on a Root Beer (the only thing even with the word BEER in it in the mansion) was the most mysterious, and grumpiest, member of the mansion. Some would even consider Wolverine the coolest teacher at the Academy, but Professor X still thought of him as his student.
"Good morning Logan."
"Hey Prof", the spiky, black-haired, jackal-eyed pioneer of the X-Men greeted, "So today's the day?"
Professor X nodded slightly, "Yes, today is the day we receive the newest additions to the school. . ."
". . .And Jean won't be here to see them", Wolverine pointed out, clenching the glass bottle in his fist.
Professor X felt a wave of remorse shoot through him. He had seen the way Logan stared at Jean. With longing. With passion. He still cared about her, and sometimes Xavier even thought it hurt Logan more than it hurt Scott that Jean was deceased.
The silence in the kitchen was in the form of a chill, nail-biting cold. Professor X turned his head toward the right to make out Bobby "Iceman" Drake, taking a seat next to Jubilee. The young, Asian girl trembled and scooted away from him.
"Do you mind toning it down a bit?" Jubilation Lee asked, glaring at the boy, "I'm trying to eat breakfast here!"
The icy blue-eyed, ash blond-haired boy gave the carton of ice-cream a once-over, "You're having Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream for breakfast? Great selection." He flashed her a sarcastic thumbs-up. Jubilee snapped her fingers, causing a small-but wild-explosion right in Iceman's face. He jumped back, dazed and startled. Jubilee laughed maliciously in a taunt as she made her way out of the kitchen. Bobby glared at her and his eyes twisted into a cool, mint blue as he breathed out a long, narrow strip of ice. It made itself comfortable in the back of the Asian girl's hair.
"AAA!" she yelped as she felt it tingle the back of her head. Her gloved fingers touched her frozen hair and she shrieked in anger, "What are you trying to do, kill my hair?" With another dramatic shriek, Jubilee raced upstairs with loud, obnoxious thuds.
Bobby laughed through a mouthful of ice-cream as he slapped a palm on the counter-top. Nobody messed with him and got away with it. He took another scoop of cookie-dough ice cream and jammed it into his mouth. As he chewed it mercilessly, thoughts from when he had wakened up began to seep through him again.
His life was horrible. Horrible. After he had come out as a mutant to his family last year, he had received one single phone call from his mother. His brother no longer looked up to him and no longer even considered him a sibling. His father didn't even want to talk to him. His mother was the only one that was tolerant, and even she seemed cold and distant.
Cold and distant. Just what he had become. He used to be the Academy's golden boy; perfect grades, perfect girlfriend (if you ignored the fact that he couldn't touch her), perfect family (that lasted long), but in the past year, after Pyro had abandoned them for Magneto, everything had changed. He no longer felt like wasting his time with anyone. If his family didn't want him, he could care less.
The only person he still cared about was her. Rogue. He still thought about her before he went to sleep in his empty room that he used to share with Pyro. He thought about how much he had loved her. How much he adored her anxious brown eyes, how much he enjoyed stroking the streaks of white from her face. They still remained friends-very close friends-even after the break-up.
His thoughts were cut off by a hard, distinct knock at the front door.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Loud, abrupt singing throughout the dorm hall awakened almost nobody but Rogue. The young, gloved girl with white streaks falling from her auburn hair swung her legs over the bed, bare feet grazing the hardwood floor. She then made out the foundation of the horrid singing. There, only a few feet in front of her desk, stood her sixteen-year-old roommate, Katherine "Kitty" Pride-also known as Shadowcat by her teammates.
Some obnoxious pop song blasted through the small speakers of her radio alarm clock as she tied her long, brown hair back in a neat ponytail, ready for the day's schooling.
"Could ya keep it down?" Rogue snapped, and then squinted as Kitty yanked open the drapes, shoving a pile of sunlight into her roommate's face.
Kitty giggled, "Rogue, calm down! Today's the day all those new kids are coming. Hopefully there's going to be some hot guys! And since you and Bobby called it quits. . ." her tone was insinuating and a mischievous smile played on her lips.
Rogue rolled her eyes and stood up, "Kat, you are really out of line if you think I'm going to get over that break-up any time soon. I'm not like you-I'm not dependent on a guy every week. I can be independent."
Kitty sighed, crossed her arms, and rolled her eyes, "Whatever. I'm going down to get some breakfast-hopefully it's not so morbid." With that said, the girl seeped through the floor and to the first story below.
Finally left alone in the dorm room, Rogue rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and turned off the next song that was flickering from the speakers. She groaned as she realized that she would have to make herself look semi-presentable that day because of the new attending students. Usually, Saturday was her day to just chill and not worry about getting out of her pajamas at all.
The girl had showered the night before, so she simply ran one of Kitty's brushes through her hair. She then shoved on a green tank-top, followed by her dark green zip-up sweater that she left unzipped, and a pair of tight, green corduroy slacks. She sighed and examined her bare hands. The same hands she had put her first love in a coma with. The same hands she had nearly drained Bobby's life with last year.
Is this why you broke up with me, Bobby?
She nervously bit her lower lip. The young girl swiped the distant white streaks of hair from her face and clutched herself between the thick jacket.
How come whenever I think of him, it gets so cold?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Across the United States, approximately 2,462 miles away from the safety and sheltering of the Academy stood a very motley pair in the enveloping darkness of the outskirts of L.A. Looking at the two, a bystander would be frightened out of his mind. There was a young, well- built woman with light brown skin and contrasting white hair who was clad in tight leather and gloves.
Beside her was an impish young man, with skin the color of deep blue. His teeth were so long that they resembled fangs, and his ears were pointed in an upturned, vampire fashion. The two were quickly making their way through back alleys, making sure not to be seen by any hateful onlookers. Their kind wasn't welcome here. They weren't welcome anywhere.
"Storm", came a deep, resounding voice within the white-haired woman's mind, "You are extremely close to her now-only a couple more blocks."
The woman whose true name was Ororo Munroe nodded at the orders of Professor Xavier. To many of her teammates, and students, she was known as Storm because of her immense mutating ability to control the weather. She had been one of the first, pioneering members of the X-Men; she had watched it grow through the past years. She had also watched it decrease. She slightly hung her head as she thought of her fallen teammate and friend, the self-conscious red-head who had always been there, but was gone now.
Although the South African goddess had to admit-the school had made a lot of progress. They had had to add and extra wing for the incoming students. Even as she looked over her shoulder as the young man that she and Jean had recruited exactly one year ago today. Kurt Wagner smiled back at her and tossed her a wave. She didn't know why he didn't just hologram a human figure to mask his true, deep navy form, it just seemed easier to creep through the alleys.
Storm realized only now that the boy who had taken on the name Nightcrawler looked very much like one of the demons that plagued her dreams as she was a child. She was quickly reminded of his gentle, kind generosity when she made out the long, golden crucifix hanging from his slender neck.
"Are we almost there?" he asked breathlessly.
Storm turned to face him, "Yes, Professor X just channeled me-she is only a couple of blocks away."
"And we can't transport there because?" he asked, as if he were making a point.
Storm sighed, "Because you still have to see where you are going in order to transport us there, remember? You're problem, not mine."
He swallowed angrily in return and followed his white-haired companion around the next jutting corner. Suddenly a clatter was heard from their right. Nightcrawler felt a sincere tingle race up his arm. Something was wrong.
"Who's there?" asked Storm, her voice quivering slightly.
Nightcrawler grabbed his teammate's shoulders and the two vanished in a thick cloud of dust to the left as a large garbage can flew toward the spot Storm had just inhabited. A young, vibrant girl with light brown skin and long, silk black hair jumped out of the shadows. She had on a midriff bearing tank-top with tight, leather pants and a pair of stylish combat boots.
"That's her!" Storm cried, "Wait! We only want to help you!"
The girl did a front flip toward the opening in the alley, and then hopped onto a garbage can, using it for leverage, before she tossed herself upward-fifteen more feet-onto a large brick roof.
Storm was not in the mood for this.
"Kurt", she warned, as her eyes laminated into a pale white color, "I hope you brought an umbrella."
She lifted her fist high above her head, twisting the dark clouds at her command. She ordered herself to concentrate. Controlling the weather didn't exactly come easy. Before she knew it, rain was splattering downward, smacking the pavement and slashing through trash can.
Okay, now we need lightning.
The white-haired wind rider widened her eyes as power surged through her limbs. Long, jagged scars of purple damaged the silk night sky. The young girl's yelp could be heard from above. Before Storm knew what was going on, the young African-American female jumped off the roof.
"Kurt!" Storm warned.
The girl landed hard on her feet, but ignored the pain and raced toward the nearest opening in the rained out alley. Kurt transported on top of the roof she had just been on. She was now directly below him. He closed his eyes to try and ignore the pounding rain, and vanished into another navy cloud of smoke. He then found himself right in front of the girl-trapping her from leaving.
She caught a good glimpse of his face and screamed. She girl desperately searched for another way out.
"I'm here to help you", Kurt said, offering out his hand.
"NO!" she cried, "Stay away from me you freak!"
She turned into another alley-like maze. She jumped up and caught her footing on the wall. Nightcrawler stood in awe-tail twitching-as the girl amazingly walked sideways across the wall at an amazing speed. Her hair hung downward and the mutant could make out the panic in her dark eyes. She was beautiful.
Like she'd ever give a freak like you the chance. "We are here to help you!" Storm exclaimed, catching up to Nightcrawler, "Please, wait!"
"Leave me alone!" the girl cried, still racing further down the wall before jumping upward onto the roof.
"We know you are different", Storm yelled to her, "We know you are a mutant and we know you need help."
"What makes you say that?" the girl asked, dropping from her perch and freezing for a minute, "You tricks don't know me."
"If you didn't need help than why are you out in the outskirts of Los Angeles by yourself at this time in the night", Storm asked matter-of- factly, "I have been there", she beckoned to Kurt, "He has been there. We are all different. We have a school-for mutants-we can help you."
The girl wiped a trickling tear from her eye as she backed away, "I don't want to be a freak. . ."
"You're not a freak. . ."
"Don't give me that!" the girl exclaimed, "I am a freak! I made my dog disappear and I brought an arsonist into my home-with the blink of an eye!"
The girl began to sob uncontrollably now, "If I'm not a freak, than how come my parents hate me?"
She fell to her knees in a small puddle near a dumpster. Storm and Nightcrawler neared her slowly. When the girl felt Storm's gloved hand gently grip her shoulder it almost felt right. She felt safe-and Storm felt sympathy for the poor girl. The poor girl had been her only years before.
"My name is Storm", she said, smiling, "and I can control the weather. What's you're name?"
"Zee", the girl said simply, "and I make people disappear."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Scott Summers glared angrily at the claw-wielding mutant in front of him. He must have looked stupid, sobbing in the hallway of the main dorms in his leather uniform and dark brown trench coat. He could feel the hot, spring-like tears rush from beneath the sunglasses that covered the deadly lasers he called his eyes. That is why to most, he was known as simply Cyclops.
"Cryin' there Scotty-boy?" came the gruff, low voice of his tension- raising rival, Wolverine.
Scott continued his deathlike glare, "Get out of here."
Of course, he had been crying. It was only a mere couple of days before the anniversary of his lover's death. The death of the wonderful, giving, but self-conscious Jean Grey. He had seen the way Wolverine had looked at her while she was still alive-he had wanted her ever since he'd arrived at the Academy.
"Why, so I can't let you wallow in the loss of your perfect wife?" came the gravelly reply.
The blow hurt-even if the couple wasn't yet married before her untimely drowning. Logan was talking out of jealousy, and Cyclops knew it.
"Just because you never stood a chance with her doesn't mean you have to get mad that the rest of us are semi-attractive."
Wolverine's jaw clenched and his fists closed angrily. He cocked his eyebrow, "Doesn't it hurt-Scotty-boy-to know that your lovely little girlfriend could never even look into your eyes?"
Cyclops didn't waste any time. He turned angrily, catching Wolverine with a blow to the jaw. The savage mutant growled angrily, and barreled into him, shoving him hard into the wall. Cyclops gasped as his back snapped in contact with the peach-painted surface. He was tempted to remove his glasses, but at this close a range the shock and pressure of the laser could wound-possibly kill Wolverine instead of just shocking him.
Cool, narrow knives were pressed angrily into the mutant's neck as he breathed in sighs of deep relief. Wolverine's claws were out, and his face was twisted into an angry scowl.
He sliced through Cyclops's thick trench coat and smiled angrily, "Take this as a warning-don't ever hit me."
"Logan?"
Both men turned their heads to the right just in time to see a group of students gathering down the hall. In front of the pack were Rogue, Thunderbird, and Iceman. Rogue's eyes widened in disbelief and confusion.
"What's goin' on?" she asked slowly as she crossed her arms.
Wolverine shut his eyes-disappointed with himself-and let Cyclops go. Cyclops glanced angrily at him. Not only had he cut up his favorite trench-coat, but he had sliced a good wound right through his dignity. As Wolverine stalked angrily down the hall and away from the murmuring students, Cyclops took a deep breath.
You will pay, Wolvy-boy.
A/N: Just the introduction, review, please. Next chapter will start the storyline as well as introduce the new students/secondary characters. Also next chapter features Magneto & Mystique.
Chapter Two Preview:
Rogue looked the tall, slender boy over with approval. His hair was dark and sandy, falling into his deep, moody eyes every chance it could. He was armed with only a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He smiled at her slightly.
He was shuffling a pack of playing cards swiftly in his hands.
Dawn of Destruction
"New Arrivals"
Dew-clung grass glistened in the morning sun as clocks throughout the Xavier Institute for the Gifted struck nine forty-three. The morning was beautiful, and Professor Xavier-called Professor X by many of his students- studied the spirited sunshine as it poured through the draped window that manifested behind his desk. He smiled at the new day, clasping his hands together.
So many more new mutants were scheduled to show up at his doorstep today-and Professor Xavier was willing to let them in with open arms. They all needed his help-just as young Kurt Wagner had last year-on this exact same day. It was this day, October 25th, that Jean and Storm had found him hiding in that rundown church.
Jean. Remorse filled the elderly bald man at the sound of her name echoing through her mind. Cyclops hadn't been the same after the incident at the dam with Stryker. He had been short and cross with the students and had almost even gotten into a physical fight with Wolverine-something the professor never dreamed one of his favorite students would do.
But then again, Jean had been such a great student too-just lacking self-confidence. She was always short on her own self-ability, never wanting to give her all because she was afraid of failure. To this day he had no idea how she could have controlled so many things at once-how she could've pulled off what she did.
He shook the thoughts from his head. The school had been running extremely smoothly since the incident. They had just added a new wing for the incoming crowd of students as well as a new curriculum. Some of the students strived for more of an education-so they were allowed into Bayville High School and studied their mutant powers part-time and on weekends. As long as the students kept their powers a secret, he saw no problem in them seeking to be more intelligent. He just wanted to make sure that they knew how to use their powers. The school had already lost Pyro because of his rash self-confidence, selfishness, and disrespect for authority.
Lost him to Professor Xavier's worst nightmare: Magneto. There could be no worse place for the young, impressionable boy to be than with him and his lackey, Mystique. They would be able to use him more violently than the Professor could even imagine.
He glanced out the window once more. Cerebro had tracked down a scared, lonely mutant who was just on the outskirts of LA. She was young, about seventeen. She was African-American, tall, slender, with long, black hair. Professor X could make out the tear-streaks down her face and just by looking at her he could tell that her parents didn't approve of her powers. The pit in his stomach had tightened at the thought of a young, impressionable mutant (like Pyro) out on the streets, where anyone could take advantage of her.
That's why he had sent Storm and Nightcrawler to make sure she made it to the Academy. He didn't want her anywhere else.
As he admired the garden bordering his office one last time before turning and exiting he could make out a soaring figure tear through his rose plants. He heard a yelp, and a loud explosion erupted from the northern edge of the garden.
Professor Xavier sighed and concentrated briefly before slipping a message into the young boy's mind.
"Be CAREFUL, Mr. Sharra."
From outside, in the garden, a disheveled looking boy in a baggy flannel shirt and baggy, torn jeans got to his feet. He shook his head; a wild mane of black hair tossed out rose petals, and looked through the window at his Professor. He waved slightly to show he was okay and embarrassedly sauntered toward the mansion.
Professor X smiled. Neal Sharra, aka Thunderbird, was practically the Jean Grey of the students. He tried hard to please, but never really went the extra distance because he was afraid of what he might do to mess up. Neal had probably woken up at six-as he always did on Saturdays-to improve his solar-controlling ability.
Thunderbird was able to draw energy from the Sun and wield it in the form of plasma blasts radiated from his hands.
While most of the students were probably just getting up-or far from it-Neal had been practicing since the break of day. Professor X wheeled his way toward the kitchen where only a few patrons were patrolling for food.
"Hey Professor!" greeted the smiley-face Asian female as she slurped a scoop of chocolate-chip ice cream.
Professor X smiled, "Good morning Jubilee."
From the sink, gulping on a Root Beer (the only thing even with the word BEER in it in the mansion) was the most mysterious, and grumpiest, member of the mansion. Some would even consider Wolverine the coolest teacher at the Academy, but Professor X still thought of him as his student.
"Good morning Logan."
"Hey Prof", the spiky, black-haired, jackal-eyed pioneer of the X-Men greeted, "So today's the day?"
Professor X nodded slightly, "Yes, today is the day we receive the newest additions to the school. . ."
". . .And Jean won't be here to see them", Wolverine pointed out, clenching the glass bottle in his fist.
Professor X felt a wave of remorse shoot through him. He had seen the way Logan stared at Jean. With longing. With passion. He still cared about her, and sometimes Xavier even thought it hurt Logan more than it hurt Scott that Jean was deceased.
The silence in the kitchen was in the form of a chill, nail-biting cold. Professor X turned his head toward the right to make out Bobby "Iceman" Drake, taking a seat next to Jubilee. The young, Asian girl trembled and scooted away from him.
"Do you mind toning it down a bit?" Jubilation Lee asked, glaring at the boy, "I'm trying to eat breakfast here!"
The icy blue-eyed, ash blond-haired boy gave the carton of ice-cream a once-over, "You're having Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream for breakfast? Great selection." He flashed her a sarcastic thumbs-up. Jubilee snapped her fingers, causing a small-but wild-explosion right in Iceman's face. He jumped back, dazed and startled. Jubilee laughed maliciously in a taunt as she made her way out of the kitchen. Bobby glared at her and his eyes twisted into a cool, mint blue as he breathed out a long, narrow strip of ice. It made itself comfortable in the back of the Asian girl's hair.
"AAA!" she yelped as she felt it tingle the back of her head. Her gloved fingers touched her frozen hair and she shrieked in anger, "What are you trying to do, kill my hair?" With another dramatic shriek, Jubilee raced upstairs with loud, obnoxious thuds.
Bobby laughed through a mouthful of ice-cream as he slapped a palm on the counter-top. Nobody messed with him and got away with it. He took another scoop of cookie-dough ice cream and jammed it into his mouth. As he chewed it mercilessly, thoughts from when he had wakened up began to seep through him again.
His life was horrible. Horrible. After he had come out as a mutant to his family last year, he had received one single phone call from his mother. His brother no longer looked up to him and no longer even considered him a sibling. His father didn't even want to talk to him. His mother was the only one that was tolerant, and even she seemed cold and distant.
Cold and distant. Just what he had become. He used to be the Academy's golden boy; perfect grades, perfect girlfriend (if you ignored the fact that he couldn't touch her), perfect family (that lasted long), but in the past year, after Pyro had abandoned them for Magneto, everything had changed. He no longer felt like wasting his time with anyone. If his family didn't want him, he could care less.
The only person he still cared about was her. Rogue. He still thought about her before he went to sleep in his empty room that he used to share with Pyro. He thought about how much he had loved her. How much he adored her anxious brown eyes, how much he enjoyed stroking the streaks of white from her face. They still remained friends-very close friends-even after the break-up.
His thoughts were cut off by a hard, distinct knock at the front door.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Loud, abrupt singing throughout the dorm hall awakened almost nobody but Rogue. The young, gloved girl with white streaks falling from her auburn hair swung her legs over the bed, bare feet grazing the hardwood floor. She then made out the foundation of the horrid singing. There, only a few feet in front of her desk, stood her sixteen-year-old roommate, Katherine "Kitty" Pride-also known as Shadowcat by her teammates.
Some obnoxious pop song blasted through the small speakers of her radio alarm clock as she tied her long, brown hair back in a neat ponytail, ready for the day's schooling.
"Could ya keep it down?" Rogue snapped, and then squinted as Kitty yanked open the drapes, shoving a pile of sunlight into her roommate's face.
Kitty giggled, "Rogue, calm down! Today's the day all those new kids are coming. Hopefully there's going to be some hot guys! And since you and Bobby called it quits. . ." her tone was insinuating and a mischievous smile played on her lips.
Rogue rolled her eyes and stood up, "Kat, you are really out of line if you think I'm going to get over that break-up any time soon. I'm not like you-I'm not dependent on a guy every week. I can be independent."
Kitty sighed, crossed her arms, and rolled her eyes, "Whatever. I'm going down to get some breakfast-hopefully it's not so morbid." With that said, the girl seeped through the floor and to the first story below.
Finally left alone in the dorm room, Rogue rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and turned off the next song that was flickering from the speakers. She groaned as she realized that she would have to make herself look semi-presentable that day because of the new attending students. Usually, Saturday was her day to just chill and not worry about getting out of her pajamas at all.
The girl had showered the night before, so she simply ran one of Kitty's brushes through her hair. She then shoved on a green tank-top, followed by her dark green zip-up sweater that she left unzipped, and a pair of tight, green corduroy slacks. She sighed and examined her bare hands. The same hands she had put her first love in a coma with. The same hands she had nearly drained Bobby's life with last year.
Is this why you broke up with me, Bobby?
She nervously bit her lower lip. The young girl swiped the distant white streaks of hair from her face and clutched herself between the thick jacket.
How come whenever I think of him, it gets so cold?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Across the United States, approximately 2,462 miles away from the safety and sheltering of the Academy stood a very motley pair in the enveloping darkness of the outskirts of L.A. Looking at the two, a bystander would be frightened out of his mind. There was a young, well- built woman with light brown skin and contrasting white hair who was clad in tight leather and gloves.
Beside her was an impish young man, with skin the color of deep blue. His teeth were so long that they resembled fangs, and his ears were pointed in an upturned, vampire fashion. The two were quickly making their way through back alleys, making sure not to be seen by any hateful onlookers. Their kind wasn't welcome here. They weren't welcome anywhere.
"Storm", came a deep, resounding voice within the white-haired woman's mind, "You are extremely close to her now-only a couple more blocks."
The woman whose true name was Ororo Munroe nodded at the orders of Professor Xavier. To many of her teammates, and students, she was known as Storm because of her immense mutating ability to control the weather. She had been one of the first, pioneering members of the X-Men; she had watched it grow through the past years. She had also watched it decrease. She slightly hung her head as she thought of her fallen teammate and friend, the self-conscious red-head who had always been there, but was gone now.
Although the South African goddess had to admit-the school had made a lot of progress. They had had to add and extra wing for the incoming students. Even as she looked over her shoulder as the young man that she and Jean had recruited exactly one year ago today. Kurt Wagner smiled back at her and tossed her a wave. She didn't know why he didn't just hologram a human figure to mask his true, deep navy form, it just seemed easier to creep through the alleys.
Storm realized only now that the boy who had taken on the name Nightcrawler looked very much like one of the demons that plagued her dreams as she was a child. She was quickly reminded of his gentle, kind generosity when she made out the long, golden crucifix hanging from his slender neck.
"Are we almost there?" he asked breathlessly.
Storm turned to face him, "Yes, Professor X just channeled me-she is only a couple of blocks away."
"And we can't transport there because?" he asked, as if he were making a point.
Storm sighed, "Because you still have to see where you are going in order to transport us there, remember? You're problem, not mine."
He swallowed angrily in return and followed his white-haired companion around the next jutting corner. Suddenly a clatter was heard from their right. Nightcrawler felt a sincere tingle race up his arm. Something was wrong.
"Who's there?" asked Storm, her voice quivering slightly.
Nightcrawler grabbed his teammate's shoulders and the two vanished in a thick cloud of dust to the left as a large garbage can flew toward the spot Storm had just inhabited. A young, vibrant girl with light brown skin and long, silk black hair jumped out of the shadows. She had on a midriff bearing tank-top with tight, leather pants and a pair of stylish combat boots.
"That's her!" Storm cried, "Wait! We only want to help you!"
The girl did a front flip toward the opening in the alley, and then hopped onto a garbage can, using it for leverage, before she tossed herself upward-fifteen more feet-onto a large brick roof.
Storm was not in the mood for this.
"Kurt", she warned, as her eyes laminated into a pale white color, "I hope you brought an umbrella."
She lifted her fist high above her head, twisting the dark clouds at her command. She ordered herself to concentrate. Controlling the weather didn't exactly come easy. Before she knew it, rain was splattering downward, smacking the pavement and slashing through trash can.
Okay, now we need lightning.
The white-haired wind rider widened her eyes as power surged through her limbs. Long, jagged scars of purple damaged the silk night sky. The young girl's yelp could be heard from above. Before Storm knew what was going on, the young African-American female jumped off the roof.
"Kurt!" Storm warned.
The girl landed hard on her feet, but ignored the pain and raced toward the nearest opening in the rained out alley. Kurt transported on top of the roof she had just been on. She was now directly below him. He closed his eyes to try and ignore the pounding rain, and vanished into another navy cloud of smoke. He then found himself right in front of the girl-trapping her from leaving.
She caught a good glimpse of his face and screamed. She girl desperately searched for another way out.
"I'm here to help you", Kurt said, offering out his hand.
"NO!" she cried, "Stay away from me you freak!"
She turned into another alley-like maze. She jumped up and caught her footing on the wall. Nightcrawler stood in awe-tail twitching-as the girl amazingly walked sideways across the wall at an amazing speed. Her hair hung downward and the mutant could make out the panic in her dark eyes. She was beautiful.
Like she'd ever give a freak like you the chance. "We are here to help you!" Storm exclaimed, catching up to Nightcrawler, "Please, wait!"
"Leave me alone!" the girl cried, still racing further down the wall before jumping upward onto the roof.
"We know you are different", Storm yelled to her, "We know you are a mutant and we know you need help."
"What makes you say that?" the girl asked, dropping from her perch and freezing for a minute, "You tricks don't know me."
"If you didn't need help than why are you out in the outskirts of Los Angeles by yourself at this time in the night", Storm asked matter-of- factly, "I have been there", she beckoned to Kurt, "He has been there. We are all different. We have a school-for mutants-we can help you."
The girl wiped a trickling tear from her eye as she backed away, "I don't want to be a freak. . ."
"You're not a freak. . ."
"Don't give me that!" the girl exclaimed, "I am a freak! I made my dog disappear and I brought an arsonist into my home-with the blink of an eye!"
The girl began to sob uncontrollably now, "If I'm not a freak, than how come my parents hate me?"
She fell to her knees in a small puddle near a dumpster. Storm and Nightcrawler neared her slowly. When the girl felt Storm's gloved hand gently grip her shoulder it almost felt right. She felt safe-and Storm felt sympathy for the poor girl. The poor girl had been her only years before.
"My name is Storm", she said, smiling, "and I can control the weather. What's you're name?"
"Zee", the girl said simply, "and I make people disappear."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Scott Summers glared angrily at the claw-wielding mutant in front of him. He must have looked stupid, sobbing in the hallway of the main dorms in his leather uniform and dark brown trench coat. He could feel the hot, spring-like tears rush from beneath the sunglasses that covered the deadly lasers he called his eyes. That is why to most, he was known as simply Cyclops.
"Cryin' there Scotty-boy?" came the gruff, low voice of his tension- raising rival, Wolverine.
Scott continued his deathlike glare, "Get out of here."
Of course, he had been crying. It was only a mere couple of days before the anniversary of his lover's death. The death of the wonderful, giving, but self-conscious Jean Grey. He had seen the way Wolverine had looked at her while she was still alive-he had wanted her ever since he'd arrived at the Academy.
"Why, so I can't let you wallow in the loss of your perfect wife?" came the gravelly reply.
The blow hurt-even if the couple wasn't yet married before her untimely drowning. Logan was talking out of jealousy, and Cyclops knew it.
"Just because you never stood a chance with her doesn't mean you have to get mad that the rest of us are semi-attractive."
Wolverine's jaw clenched and his fists closed angrily. He cocked his eyebrow, "Doesn't it hurt-Scotty-boy-to know that your lovely little girlfriend could never even look into your eyes?"
Cyclops didn't waste any time. He turned angrily, catching Wolverine with a blow to the jaw. The savage mutant growled angrily, and barreled into him, shoving him hard into the wall. Cyclops gasped as his back snapped in contact with the peach-painted surface. He was tempted to remove his glasses, but at this close a range the shock and pressure of the laser could wound-possibly kill Wolverine instead of just shocking him.
Cool, narrow knives were pressed angrily into the mutant's neck as he breathed in sighs of deep relief. Wolverine's claws were out, and his face was twisted into an angry scowl.
He sliced through Cyclops's thick trench coat and smiled angrily, "Take this as a warning-don't ever hit me."
"Logan?"
Both men turned their heads to the right just in time to see a group of students gathering down the hall. In front of the pack were Rogue, Thunderbird, and Iceman. Rogue's eyes widened in disbelief and confusion.
"What's goin' on?" she asked slowly as she crossed her arms.
Wolverine shut his eyes-disappointed with himself-and let Cyclops go. Cyclops glanced angrily at him. Not only had he cut up his favorite trench-coat, but he had sliced a good wound right through his dignity. As Wolverine stalked angrily down the hall and away from the murmuring students, Cyclops took a deep breath.
You will pay, Wolvy-boy.
A/N: Just the introduction, review, please. Next chapter will start the storyline as well as introduce the new students/secondary characters. Also next chapter features Magneto & Mystique.
Chapter Two Preview:
Rogue looked the tall, slender boy over with approval. His hair was dark and sandy, falling into his deep, moody eyes every chance it could. He was armed with only a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He smiled at her slightly.
He was shuffling a pack of playing cards swiftly in his hands.