Hehe . . . reviews!
Blue Dragon Git: I'm glad you like all my characters. I tend to work harder on them than is needed. And you think Anton's creepy? That wasn't what I was going for. I was going for tragically hopeless and angry. Creepy works, though! I will definitely read your story as soon as I get the chance.
Italia12: Sorry if it's so confusing, but have ~you~ ever read a Stephen King book? ~That's~ confusing. The story might be confusing to you, but it isn't to me, and that's because that's how I write. It would get even more confusing if I tried to change how I write. And besides, a few of these characters don't even have a logical part in the story: in other words: they're just names I use to make it more believable. Like DeSoto: he won't have any more ~major~ parts in the story, and neither does DeLito or Pegasus. Although, for every three I take away, I add one: Matrix will have a bigger part in the story. Sort of. Again, I'm sorry it's confusing. I never meant for it to be. And I'm sorry that I can't change that. Believe me: I've read ~way~ more confusing stories on this site (mostly because they're poorly written, but I'm not going to point any fingers).
Well, that was fun. And ironic. Italia wants it less confusing, and I give a confusing response. Oh yeah. I'm smart.
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"You're sure we should interfere?" Beauregard asked for the fourth time in the past half hour. Anton didn't bother to stop and answer him for the fourth time, though.
"No, he's not sure," said Panthera, "that's why he's not answering you anymore."
"Exactly," Anton murmured, almost to himself. He had yet to tell everyone to go back to the Underground, or Shadowlion's house, whichever, and pack half their useless crud piled up in their rooms. That was Anton: bring the excess, because everything is unexpected. Everyone seemed to agree that he had lost what little remained of his sane mind in the past few years, and probably from keeping himself shut up in that mansion of his. But they trusted him, for some odd reason. "I'm sorry, Shadowlion, but DeSoto's complete punishment will have to wait until we return. Matrix will, of course, be coming with us to New York. Aryan can't come, so we need some sort of technician to work on the jets should anything happen to them. I want you and Matrix to assemble a team of your choice. Six people, not including yourselves. Anybody that's not younger than you."
"Lovely," retorted Shadowlion. "You want Matrix and me to lead a team of mutants all older than us?"
"Nein." Anton pushed aside a wall panel to reveal a small, dome-shaped room. The walls were made of a type of granite that must've been polished at least three times a day; Shadowlion could see her reflection in the stone. In the center of the room was a titanium-steel alloy pedestal bolted to the floor with a diamond case on top of it. Inside the case was a small gold ring with hieroglyphs etched around the outside and inside. Anton slowly removed the diamond cover and removed the ring, and then replaced the cover.
"The Anubis Ring?" Panthera exclaimed. "Anton, are you mad?"
"There's a girl in New York that will find this useful." He pushed Panthera back out of the room. "Shadowlion, I will be leading the team."
Shadowlion was about to protest as Anton walked by her, but decided it safer to stay quiet. Anton didn't necessarily scare her; she'd known him for too long to be afraid of him, and she knew that he really wasn't mean . . . just lonely and lost. He hadn't smiled in such a long time. The last time she'd ever seen him even remotely happy was on one of their first missions - before the Ellis Island incident - when, in Hamunaptra, in Egypt, her team had recovered the Soul-Reaver Pike from Anubis' temple. Anton had wanted it out of reach of thieves, so he kept it. But, after nearly a year of carrying the Pike, its power was beginning to take a toll on him. He wasn't as quick-witted as he used to be, and doing much of anything seemed to cause him pain. Shadowlion wanted more than anything for Anton to give up that Pike to his son, or to somebody else. Wanted him to take it back to Egypt and return it to his brother, who could look after it properly. But Anton would never . . . he claimed he couldn't trust anyone.
Luckily, after about a month of pushing buttons and annoying the hell out of Anton over the whole issue, he named the next bearer of the Pike: a son of his that no one but he and Aryan and Sabine had heard of, that was last heard of at the start of the Alkali Lake ordeal, when reports of a mutant assassin filtered into the Underground's poor connections with the outside world.
"Him?" Shadowlion had asked, confused and a bit lost. "But he's a wanted criminal now! He tried to freakin' kill the president, you arse! Do you really think it all that smart to give him something as dangerous as the Soul-Reaver Pike?"
"He's ~not~ dangerous, Dämon," consoled Anton. "That wasn't him. Well, it was, but . . . somebody had been messing with his mind. I know he would never do anything like that of his own free will!"
"I don't trust you, Anton . . . not on this. But, I'll pretend I do."
So every artifact they had rightfully stolen from Hamunaptra was being taken with them to New York to be given up, and put in a place where they wouldn't be of any danger. At least, so Shadowlion hoped. But she also had the knawing feeling that Anton would go back on his word and keep the Pike.
"I've got a rotten feeling about this, Beau," she whispered.
"Yeah, I know what you're sayin'. So do I."
^_^ Westchester, New York ^_^
There was an old mansion, not far from Xavier's school, that had been abandoned for several years. It was rumored to be haunted, but it wasn't like anybody really believed that. It was mostly a joke some of Xavier's older students played on the younger students. Like today. And this time, Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty were the ones dragging some hapless little sixth grader to the mansion. He was a kid named Jones; nobody, not even Jones himself, used his first name.
As the four students approached the front gates of the estate, which was flanked by two winged foxes on pedestals, and bore a silver plate reading "Fuchs Norden", the loud wailing sound of a fiddle carried across the "deserted" grounds.
"Ah thought this place was abandoned," Rogue said.
"That's what everyone else said," replied Bobby.
Above the fiddle, and now a guitar and what sounded like a banjo, a young voice sang a more than familiar song.
"My daddy sits on the front porch swingin' / Lookin' out on a vacant field / Used to be filled with burly tobacco / Now he knows it never will . . ."
"What's that?" Jones looked up at Rogue.
"It sounds like . . . Dixie Chicks! This place ~isn't~ abandoned!"
The song continued on, and the giant iron gates opened up silently and slowly.
"Momma's still cookin' too much for supper / And me I've been a longtime gone / Been a longtime gone / No I ain't hoed a row since I don't know when / Longtime gone . . ."
"Looks like an invitation to me," said Bobby, walking through the gates. Jones, not wanting to be left alone with two girls, ran after Bobby. Rogue had to practically pull Kitty in, and the gates closed behind them, of their own accord. They went further and further into the estate, following a worn, cobblestone path. When the giant, plantation-style house came into view, so did a group of people sitting on a picnic bench.
A young man who looked a lot like a slightly older version of Kurt, minus the scars and whose skin faded into white on his hands, feet, tail, and down his neck, with one spot around his eye, and dark metallic red hair sat at the closest end. He played a guitar that was forest green with silver Chinese dragons painted beside the strings.
Beside him, lying stretched out like a lion, was a girl a few years older than Jones. Her once blonde hair was cut so short it was a tawny color instead. She wore lion-paw "gloves"-if they could be called that-and her black lion tail waved patiently back and forth. She was the one whom they had heard singing.
"She always thought that we'd be together / Lord I never meant to do her harm / Said she could hear me singin' in the choir / Me I heard another song / I caught wind and hit the road runnin' / And Lord I been a longtime gone . . ."
The "backup singer", who also played the banjo, was a woman who (eerily) resembled Mystique, with long platinum blonde hair pulled back into a tight braid.
On the banjo player's other side was a young man who looked to be about in his early- to mid-twenties. He looked kind enough, but frightened the Xavier students, and they paused when they looked at him, considering whether it was a good idea to continue or not. Although he seemed friendly, he strongly reminded Rogue of all the pictures she had seen of Adolf Hitler, whom the boy looked nearly identical to, minus the (laughable?) mustache. His big, dark eyes passed over every one of the Xavier students, sending a slight shiver up their spines. He returned to playing his fiddle after a moment, and paid the students no more attention.
Sitting next to the fiddler, with his back turned to everybody else, was another young man about the fiddler's age, and who, funnily enough, looked like a younger, smoother-skinned Logan, with shockingly white bangs.
"Lord I ain't had a prayer since I don't know when / Longtime gone / And it ain't comin' back again / Now me I went to Nashville / Tryin' to be the big deal / Playin' down on Broadway / Getting' there the hard way / Livin' from a tip jar / Sleepin' in my car / Hockin' my guitar / Yeah I'm gonna be a sta-a-ar / Now me and Delia singin' every Sunday / Watchin' the children and the garden grow / We listen to the radio to hear what's cookin' / But the music ain't got no soul . . ."
The man beside the fiddler motioned for Rogue, Bobby, Jones, and Kitty to sit on a picnic table perpendicular to the one he and his companions sat on. As the four passed the fiddler, he looked up at them-at Rogue-and followed her with his manic gaze. There was a creepy, quiet insanity behind those black eyes; there was no doubting that. But, his expression was more that of curiosity than anger or insanity. Rogue tried to sit as far from him as possible. But, that of course, meant she was directly in his line of sight.
As the song came to the end the fiddler averted his gaze. The performers received a small applause from their audience.
"Are ya'll in a band?" Rogue asked the lead singer.
"Naw. We just have nothin' else t' do." She sat up and curled her tail about her "paws" and said abruptly, "My name's Lynx Gunning. Ever'body calls me either Dämon or Shadowlion, though." She sharply nudged the guitarist.
"Huh? Oh. I'm Aryan Wagoner, and that's my sister-" Aryan pointed to the banjo player "-Sabine."
"Beauregard Raven," muttered the boy beside the fiddler.
The fiddler himself offered his hand to Bobby to shake, although Bobby noticeably leaned back. The fiddler didn't seem disappointed. "S'alright. I get that a lot. I'm Sabine's son, Peregrine Matthias Hitler."
Rogue breathed in sharply. "Did you just say your name was Hitler?" Kitty hissed.
Matthias laughed. "Yeah, and you're probably wanting to kill me right about now. That or run home." He suddenly changed the subject. "You're all from that Xavier place, right? Here in Westchester?"
"Yeah, and? What's it mean to you?" snapped Bobby.
Matthias stood up and held his hands up as if to say, "I surrender". He picked up his fiddle and headed towards the mansion. "Okay, I get the hint. I'll leave. But you'll be seeing a lot more of me if you're one of the X- Men."
Nobody talked until Matthias was out of hearing range. "He tries so hard to get people to believe he's nothing like his father. He really is a good person, even if his father wasn't," Sabine said ruefully.
"So he's one of the ancients that Professor Xavier's told us about?"
"Hardly. He's an immortal, like all those descended from my father, Anton Wagoner. He's over two thousand years old. But, Matthias is barely over sixty years old."
"Is he a mutant?" Kitty asked.
"Surprisingly, yes! Even though Addy was a human. We can't explain it." Sabine's eyes darted up towards the mansion, and everyone turned to see Matthias coming back out, holding something that glinted gold in the sunlight. "Did your grandfather give you that rotted ring, Matt?"
Matthias walked on past Rogue, tossing the small gold ring down onto the table next to her. He stopped and turned around to look at her. "It's a 'present' from my grandfather. You're the untouchable mutant, right? That ring will help you. You'll be able to touch people without hurting them, as long as you wear that."
"How did your grandfather know-"
"He scares me sometimes. I honestly don't know how he knows about you. He never tells ~me~ anything. I mentioned every one of you, and he gave me that ring and told me to give it to 'the girl with the southern accent'. I only know what it does; I can't tell you how it does it. It's not dangerous, though, unless you live in Indiana."
Rogue decided it best not to ask why; she didn't think Matthias the patient type.
"You'd best go back now, and don't tell anyone but Xavier that you met us."
Bobby jumped up and marched straight for the front gate, keeping a wide berth between him and Matthias. Jones didn't seem to care, and Kitty was incredibly jumpy. Rogue, not wanting Matthias to think she wasn't thankful for the ring, brushed past him, with a severely jealous look from Bobby.
"I don't think your boyfriend likes me," Matthias whispered.
"He wouldn't," Rogue whispered back.
"Wait. What's your name?"
Rogue stopped and glanced back at Matthias before turning to fully face him. "Marie." She ran off before she could be drawn into Matthias' deep, dark eyes, and she refused to look back. When she caught up with Kitty, she said quietly, so Bobby and Jones couldn't hear, "There's somethin' about him."
"Yeah! He's a complete lunatic! Did you see the way he stared at you?"
"You think Ah didn't!? Ah know he's creepy and scary and insane! Ah fully understand he's Hitler's son! Ah'm not stupid, Kitty! But, his eyes . . . they're just . . . hypnotic-Ah can't find another way to describe them."
"You've totally lost it."
"If Ah see him just one more time, Ah'm afraid Ah will have! The way he looks at me . . . it drives me crazy. And Ah don't mean he makes me mad!"
"I think I'll . . . stop talking to you . . . now," Kitty murmured, edging away from Rogue.
"Kitty!"
^_^ Xavier's School; After Sundown ^_^
"Everyone-Everyone, please be quiet!" Xavier had been trying for five minutes now just to get the students to stay silent. Finally, they decided to listen and shut up, much to Xavier's surprise. "All right, now that you're all finally listening to me, I think you have the right to know why you are all here." He glanced about at the group of a little more than a hundred kids all crammed into the front foyer. "As you may have heard on the news, Auschwitz-Birkenau, in Poland, has been . . . reopened. And this time, a group of people known as the 'Mutant Hunters' is imprisoning mutants. There are thousands of followers in this group-or cult rather, and the X-Men alone are in no way capable of fighting them, even with Magneto's help."
"Why aren't we dealing with this politically, like before?"
"Because that doesn't work with the Hunters. And they have full permission to imprison 'dangerous' mutants. But, in the course of 'purging the world of law-breaking mutants', they have imprisoned dozens upon dozens of innocent mutants.
"And so, we have requested the help of a Midwest-based organization known as the Bellevue Wildcats. They are similar to the X-Men, although they practically command an army's worth of mutants. They are led by the man who commanded Auschwitz during World War Two. He and his family-his daughter, son, and grandson-~are~ Nazis, but I ask that you treat them with respect. They have come out of isolation to help us, something I hardly expected of the Wildcats."
"You want us to trust a bunch of Nazis?!"
Jones, Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue fidgeted nervously, and when the doorbell rang, Kitty practically phased herself through the wall she was leaning against. Xavier glanced at the door and it opened on its own.
"Matthias . . ." Rogue whispered, receiving a reproving glare from Kitty.
Actually, Matthias was pretty much hidden from view. Standing in front of him was Lynx, and beside her must have been Anton. A few of the students murmered "ghost" as Anton led his little group in at Xavier's invitation. An odd-looking German shepherd dog marched in beside Matthias, its nose pointed up and a haughty glint in its dark eyes.
"Anton, are you still wearing that old uniform?" Xavier asked, smiling.
"And why not?" Anton sneered, his lips pulled back in an evil grin, showing elongated canines. He happened to look up behind Xavier at Ororo, who was staring at him. The smile faded for a moment, then reappeared, this time seemingly more seductive than evil. Ororo nervously turned back to face the students.
"Alright, everyone, this is Commander Anton Wagoner," said Xavier. He nodded towards Lynx. "This is Commander Lynx Gunning, field commander for the Bellevue Wildcats. Aryan Wagoner-" Xavier motioned to Aryan, who absently pulled his sunglasses off, gaining a laugh from the students "- Anton's son. Beauregard Raven and his mother, Lt. Commander Panthera Raven. A few of you may recognize Mortimer Toynbee--I'm quite surprised to see you still alive, Toad." Mortimer glared at Xavier. "And finally, Anton's grandson, Peregrine Matthias Hitler."
Gasps and whispers filled the room, but Matthias ignored them. He was looking for Rogue, and could care less what other people thought of him.
"Quiet! Remember what I told you--"
"S'alright, Professor," Matthias said. "I'm used to it."
"Of course," replied Xavier. Then, to the students, "These are the leaders of the Bellevue Wildcats, who will be assisting the X-Men in the liberation of the mutants at Auschwitz-Birkenau."
Everyone was silent; nobody knew what to say.
"Well, you certainly are a show-stopper, Pippin," Lynx sneered at Matthias.
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:cough:Pippin:cough: I just had to do that.
Blue Dragon Git: I'm glad you like all my characters. I tend to work harder on them than is needed. And you think Anton's creepy? That wasn't what I was going for. I was going for tragically hopeless and angry. Creepy works, though! I will definitely read your story as soon as I get the chance.
Italia12: Sorry if it's so confusing, but have ~you~ ever read a Stephen King book? ~That's~ confusing. The story might be confusing to you, but it isn't to me, and that's because that's how I write. It would get even more confusing if I tried to change how I write. And besides, a few of these characters don't even have a logical part in the story: in other words: they're just names I use to make it more believable. Like DeSoto: he won't have any more ~major~ parts in the story, and neither does DeLito or Pegasus. Although, for every three I take away, I add one: Matrix will have a bigger part in the story. Sort of. Again, I'm sorry it's confusing. I never meant for it to be. And I'm sorry that I can't change that. Believe me: I've read ~way~ more confusing stories on this site (mostly because they're poorly written, but I'm not going to point any fingers).
Well, that was fun. And ironic. Italia wants it less confusing, and I give a confusing response. Oh yeah. I'm smart.
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"You're sure we should interfere?" Beauregard asked for the fourth time in the past half hour. Anton didn't bother to stop and answer him for the fourth time, though.
"No, he's not sure," said Panthera, "that's why he's not answering you anymore."
"Exactly," Anton murmured, almost to himself. He had yet to tell everyone to go back to the Underground, or Shadowlion's house, whichever, and pack half their useless crud piled up in their rooms. That was Anton: bring the excess, because everything is unexpected. Everyone seemed to agree that he had lost what little remained of his sane mind in the past few years, and probably from keeping himself shut up in that mansion of his. But they trusted him, for some odd reason. "I'm sorry, Shadowlion, but DeSoto's complete punishment will have to wait until we return. Matrix will, of course, be coming with us to New York. Aryan can't come, so we need some sort of technician to work on the jets should anything happen to them. I want you and Matrix to assemble a team of your choice. Six people, not including yourselves. Anybody that's not younger than you."
"Lovely," retorted Shadowlion. "You want Matrix and me to lead a team of mutants all older than us?"
"Nein." Anton pushed aside a wall panel to reveal a small, dome-shaped room. The walls were made of a type of granite that must've been polished at least three times a day; Shadowlion could see her reflection in the stone. In the center of the room was a titanium-steel alloy pedestal bolted to the floor with a diamond case on top of it. Inside the case was a small gold ring with hieroglyphs etched around the outside and inside. Anton slowly removed the diamond cover and removed the ring, and then replaced the cover.
"The Anubis Ring?" Panthera exclaimed. "Anton, are you mad?"
"There's a girl in New York that will find this useful." He pushed Panthera back out of the room. "Shadowlion, I will be leading the team."
Shadowlion was about to protest as Anton walked by her, but decided it safer to stay quiet. Anton didn't necessarily scare her; she'd known him for too long to be afraid of him, and she knew that he really wasn't mean . . . just lonely and lost. He hadn't smiled in such a long time. The last time she'd ever seen him even remotely happy was on one of their first missions - before the Ellis Island incident - when, in Hamunaptra, in Egypt, her team had recovered the Soul-Reaver Pike from Anubis' temple. Anton had wanted it out of reach of thieves, so he kept it. But, after nearly a year of carrying the Pike, its power was beginning to take a toll on him. He wasn't as quick-witted as he used to be, and doing much of anything seemed to cause him pain. Shadowlion wanted more than anything for Anton to give up that Pike to his son, or to somebody else. Wanted him to take it back to Egypt and return it to his brother, who could look after it properly. But Anton would never . . . he claimed he couldn't trust anyone.
Luckily, after about a month of pushing buttons and annoying the hell out of Anton over the whole issue, he named the next bearer of the Pike: a son of his that no one but he and Aryan and Sabine had heard of, that was last heard of at the start of the Alkali Lake ordeal, when reports of a mutant assassin filtered into the Underground's poor connections with the outside world.
"Him?" Shadowlion had asked, confused and a bit lost. "But he's a wanted criminal now! He tried to freakin' kill the president, you arse! Do you really think it all that smart to give him something as dangerous as the Soul-Reaver Pike?"
"He's ~not~ dangerous, Dämon," consoled Anton. "That wasn't him. Well, it was, but . . . somebody had been messing with his mind. I know he would never do anything like that of his own free will!"
"I don't trust you, Anton . . . not on this. But, I'll pretend I do."
So every artifact they had rightfully stolen from Hamunaptra was being taken with them to New York to be given up, and put in a place where they wouldn't be of any danger. At least, so Shadowlion hoped. But she also had the knawing feeling that Anton would go back on his word and keep the Pike.
"I've got a rotten feeling about this, Beau," she whispered.
"Yeah, I know what you're sayin'. So do I."
^_^ Westchester, New York ^_^
There was an old mansion, not far from Xavier's school, that had been abandoned for several years. It was rumored to be haunted, but it wasn't like anybody really believed that. It was mostly a joke some of Xavier's older students played on the younger students. Like today. And this time, Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty were the ones dragging some hapless little sixth grader to the mansion. He was a kid named Jones; nobody, not even Jones himself, used his first name.
As the four students approached the front gates of the estate, which was flanked by two winged foxes on pedestals, and bore a silver plate reading "Fuchs Norden", the loud wailing sound of a fiddle carried across the "deserted" grounds.
"Ah thought this place was abandoned," Rogue said.
"That's what everyone else said," replied Bobby.
Above the fiddle, and now a guitar and what sounded like a banjo, a young voice sang a more than familiar song.
"My daddy sits on the front porch swingin' / Lookin' out on a vacant field / Used to be filled with burly tobacco / Now he knows it never will . . ."
"What's that?" Jones looked up at Rogue.
"It sounds like . . . Dixie Chicks! This place ~isn't~ abandoned!"
The song continued on, and the giant iron gates opened up silently and slowly.
"Momma's still cookin' too much for supper / And me I've been a longtime gone / Been a longtime gone / No I ain't hoed a row since I don't know when / Longtime gone . . ."
"Looks like an invitation to me," said Bobby, walking through the gates. Jones, not wanting to be left alone with two girls, ran after Bobby. Rogue had to practically pull Kitty in, and the gates closed behind them, of their own accord. They went further and further into the estate, following a worn, cobblestone path. When the giant, plantation-style house came into view, so did a group of people sitting on a picnic bench.
A young man who looked a lot like a slightly older version of Kurt, minus the scars and whose skin faded into white on his hands, feet, tail, and down his neck, with one spot around his eye, and dark metallic red hair sat at the closest end. He played a guitar that was forest green with silver Chinese dragons painted beside the strings.
Beside him, lying stretched out like a lion, was a girl a few years older than Jones. Her once blonde hair was cut so short it was a tawny color instead. She wore lion-paw "gloves"-if they could be called that-and her black lion tail waved patiently back and forth. She was the one whom they had heard singing.
"She always thought that we'd be together / Lord I never meant to do her harm / Said she could hear me singin' in the choir / Me I heard another song / I caught wind and hit the road runnin' / And Lord I been a longtime gone . . ."
The "backup singer", who also played the banjo, was a woman who (eerily) resembled Mystique, with long platinum blonde hair pulled back into a tight braid.
On the banjo player's other side was a young man who looked to be about in his early- to mid-twenties. He looked kind enough, but frightened the Xavier students, and they paused when they looked at him, considering whether it was a good idea to continue or not. Although he seemed friendly, he strongly reminded Rogue of all the pictures she had seen of Adolf Hitler, whom the boy looked nearly identical to, minus the (laughable?) mustache. His big, dark eyes passed over every one of the Xavier students, sending a slight shiver up their spines. He returned to playing his fiddle after a moment, and paid the students no more attention.
Sitting next to the fiddler, with his back turned to everybody else, was another young man about the fiddler's age, and who, funnily enough, looked like a younger, smoother-skinned Logan, with shockingly white bangs.
"Lord I ain't had a prayer since I don't know when / Longtime gone / And it ain't comin' back again / Now me I went to Nashville / Tryin' to be the big deal / Playin' down on Broadway / Getting' there the hard way / Livin' from a tip jar / Sleepin' in my car / Hockin' my guitar / Yeah I'm gonna be a sta-a-ar / Now me and Delia singin' every Sunday / Watchin' the children and the garden grow / We listen to the radio to hear what's cookin' / But the music ain't got no soul . . ."
The man beside the fiddler motioned for Rogue, Bobby, Jones, and Kitty to sit on a picnic table perpendicular to the one he and his companions sat on. As the four passed the fiddler, he looked up at them-at Rogue-and followed her with his manic gaze. There was a creepy, quiet insanity behind those black eyes; there was no doubting that. But, his expression was more that of curiosity than anger or insanity. Rogue tried to sit as far from him as possible. But, that of course, meant she was directly in his line of sight.
As the song came to the end the fiddler averted his gaze. The performers received a small applause from their audience.
"Are ya'll in a band?" Rogue asked the lead singer.
"Naw. We just have nothin' else t' do." She sat up and curled her tail about her "paws" and said abruptly, "My name's Lynx Gunning. Ever'body calls me either Dämon or Shadowlion, though." She sharply nudged the guitarist.
"Huh? Oh. I'm Aryan Wagoner, and that's my sister-" Aryan pointed to the banjo player "-Sabine."
"Beauregard Raven," muttered the boy beside the fiddler.
The fiddler himself offered his hand to Bobby to shake, although Bobby noticeably leaned back. The fiddler didn't seem disappointed. "S'alright. I get that a lot. I'm Sabine's son, Peregrine Matthias Hitler."
Rogue breathed in sharply. "Did you just say your name was Hitler?" Kitty hissed.
Matthias laughed. "Yeah, and you're probably wanting to kill me right about now. That or run home." He suddenly changed the subject. "You're all from that Xavier place, right? Here in Westchester?"
"Yeah, and? What's it mean to you?" snapped Bobby.
Matthias stood up and held his hands up as if to say, "I surrender". He picked up his fiddle and headed towards the mansion. "Okay, I get the hint. I'll leave. But you'll be seeing a lot more of me if you're one of the X- Men."
Nobody talked until Matthias was out of hearing range. "He tries so hard to get people to believe he's nothing like his father. He really is a good person, even if his father wasn't," Sabine said ruefully.
"So he's one of the ancients that Professor Xavier's told us about?"
"Hardly. He's an immortal, like all those descended from my father, Anton Wagoner. He's over two thousand years old. But, Matthias is barely over sixty years old."
"Is he a mutant?" Kitty asked.
"Surprisingly, yes! Even though Addy was a human. We can't explain it." Sabine's eyes darted up towards the mansion, and everyone turned to see Matthias coming back out, holding something that glinted gold in the sunlight. "Did your grandfather give you that rotted ring, Matt?"
Matthias walked on past Rogue, tossing the small gold ring down onto the table next to her. He stopped and turned around to look at her. "It's a 'present' from my grandfather. You're the untouchable mutant, right? That ring will help you. You'll be able to touch people without hurting them, as long as you wear that."
"How did your grandfather know-"
"He scares me sometimes. I honestly don't know how he knows about you. He never tells ~me~ anything. I mentioned every one of you, and he gave me that ring and told me to give it to 'the girl with the southern accent'. I only know what it does; I can't tell you how it does it. It's not dangerous, though, unless you live in Indiana."
Rogue decided it best not to ask why; she didn't think Matthias the patient type.
"You'd best go back now, and don't tell anyone but Xavier that you met us."
Bobby jumped up and marched straight for the front gate, keeping a wide berth between him and Matthias. Jones didn't seem to care, and Kitty was incredibly jumpy. Rogue, not wanting Matthias to think she wasn't thankful for the ring, brushed past him, with a severely jealous look from Bobby.
"I don't think your boyfriend likes me," Matthias whispered.
"He wouldn't," Rogue whispered back.
"Wait. What's your name?"
Rogue stopped and glanced back at Matthias before turning to fully face him. "Marie." She ran off before she could be drawn into Matthias' deep, dark eyes, and she refused to look back. When she caught up with Kitty, she said quietly, so Bobby and Jones couldn't hear, "There's somethin' about him."
"Yeah! He's a complete lunatic! Did you see the way he stared at you?"
"You think Ah didn't!? Ah know he's creepy and scary and insane! Ah fully understand he's Hitler's son! Ah'm not stupid, Kitty! But, his eyes . . . they're just . . . hypnotic-Ah can't find another way to describe them."
"You've totally lost it."
"If Ah see him just one more time, Ah'm afraid Ah will have! The way he looks at me . . . it drives me crazy. And Ah don't mean he makes me mad!"
"I think I'll . . . stop talking to you . . . now," Kitty murmured, edging away from Rogue.
"Kitty!"
^_^ Xavier's School; After Sundown ^_^
"Everyone-Everyone, please be quiet!" Xavier had been trying for five minutes now just to get the students to stay silent. Finally, they decided to listen and shut up, much to Xavier's surprise. "All right, now that you're all finally listening to me, I think you have the right to know why you are all here." He glanced about at the group of a little more than a hundred kids all crammed into the front foyer. "As you may have heard on the news, Auschwitz-Birkenau, in Poland, has been . . . reopened. And this time, a group of people known as the 'Mutant Hunters' is imprisoning mutants. There are thousands of followers in this group-or cult rather, and the X-Men alone are in no way capable of fighting them, even with Magneto's help."
"Why aren't we dealing with this politically, like before?"
"Because that doesn't work with the Hunters. And they have full permission to imprison 'dangerous' mutants. But, in the course of 'purging the world of law-breaking mutants', they have imprisoned dozens upon dozens of innocent mutants.
"And so, we have requested the help of a Midwest-based organization known as the Bellevue Wildcats. They are similar to the X-Men, although they practically command an army's worth of mutants. They are led by the man who commanded Auschwitz during World War Two. He and his family-his daughter, son, and grandson-~are~ Nazis, but I ask that you treat them with respect. They have come out of isolation to help us, something I hardly expected of the Wildcats."
"You want us to trust a bunch of Nazis?!"
Jones, Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue fidgeted nervously, and when the doorbell rang, Kitty practically phased herself through the wall she was leaning against. Xavier glanced at the door and it opened on its own.
"Matthias . . ." Rogue whispered, receiving a reproving glare from Kitty.
Actually, Matthias was pretty much hidden from view. Standing in front of him was Lynx, and beside her must have been Anton. A few of the students murmered "ghost" as Anton led his little group in at Xavier's invitation. An odd-looking German shepherd dog marched in beside Matthias, its nose pointed up and a haughty glint in its dark eyes.
"Anton, are you still wearing that old uniform?" Xavier asked, smiling.
"And why not?" Anton sneered, his lips pulled back in an evil grin, showing elongated canines. He happened to look up behind Xavier at Ororo, who was staring at him. The smile faded for a moment, then reappeared, this time seemingly more seductive than evil. Ororo nervously turned back to face the students.
"Alright, everyone, this is Commander Anton Wagoner," said Xavier. He nodded towards Lynx. "This is Commander Lynx Gunning, field commander for the Bellevue Wildcats. Aryan Wagoner-" Xavier motioned to Aryan, who absently pulled his sunglasses off, gaining a laugh from the students "- Anton's son. Beauregard Raven and his mother, Lt. Commander Panthera Raven. A few of you may recognize Mortimer Toynbee--I'm quite surprised to see you still alive, Toad." Mortimer glared at Xavier. "And finally, Anton's grandson, Peregrine Matthias Hitler."
Gasps and whispers filled the room, but Matthias ignored them. He was looking for Rogue, and could care less what other people thought of him.
"Quiet! Remember what I told you--"
"S'alright, Professor," Matthias said. "I'm used to it."
"Of course," replied Xavier. Then, to the students, "These are the leaders of the Bellevue Wildcats, who will be assisting the X-Men in the liberation of the mutants at Auschwitz-Birkenau."
Everyone was silent; nobody knew what to say.
"Well, you certainly are a show-stopper, Pippin," Lynx sneered at Matthias.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
:cough:Pippin:cough: I just had to do that.
