~Title: A Life Worth Living
~Author: Hello. I'm Wild Craze, the author of the story you are about to read (if you're not, what are you doing here?). I just wanted to specify my name because I guess that a big part of you people (like me) copy the stuff and read it off line, so I would like you to be able to find track of me again if you like what I write, and because I guess it's only fair that if you read my stuff, you should review.
~Rating: PG-13, before it was only for safety, but now it's for the violence
~Summary: This story is about a boy that has a strange life, even before becoming a mutant. Its more adventure and action like, but I will definitely add romance.
~Disclaimer: I'm not going to say that I don't own X-Men, 'cause that's totally obvious.
This is my first X-Men fic that I actually send, so please be nice, even though I greatly appreciate some CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 1: A life out of the ordinary
The boy calmly shut his home's entrance door, took off his running shoes and placed them on the plastic mat, as he always did when he came back from school.
His baggy jeans were battered at the rims and on the knee area, but they were still in good shape. Because he followed the style policy, he was also wearing a long sleeved shirt, on top of which was a t-shirt. One was dark blue and the other was red, with a skating symbol on it.
He was definitely a North American with his lightly tanned skin, strong muscles and dark hair. He was quite a normal boy, except for the blue died tip of his hair and abnormally green eyes. People noticed that he had an earring on his left ear, but it was quite frequent these days. Most of the boys in his neighbourhood already had tattoos and piercings in different body parts, so he wasn't seen as an insubordinate boy.
But the old saying comes around: don't be fooled by what you see.
The truth was that he was more unlawful than all those boys of the neighbourhood put together. Without anyone in his town knowing, he was a criminal mastermind very acknowledged by the international underworld, mostly in New York, Montreal, San Francisco, Paris, London and Miami. No one in these cities knew what he looked like, or even what age he was, but all they knew that great help he brought to the strong backstreet Mafioso groups. Even they couldn't trace him down, because they had no idea that they were looking for a seventeen-year-old boy that still lived with his parents in a lost town about two hours from Toronto, in the middle of small woods and fields. They were intrigued by this person only known to them through the alias Bait Hunter, someone to who they spoke through a complicated chat room through the Internet. This person was only in that chat room for ten minutes two times a week, from four o'clock, to four ten, Tuesday and Friday, waiting to see if his correspondents needed anything he could help them with. In exchange, he had a rational amount of money put into one of his multiple Swiss bank accounts, information on different subjects, and a contract, proving that in exchange of his help, the people he assisted had to accept a few services he asked for. Up to now, he had never asked anything to any of those groups.
In his city, he was known as Nathaniel Cage, best student in his advanced class at Saint Paul's civic seminary and captain of a basketball team he had rendered invincible against any of the surrounding cities. He was also a graduate at the Jung Lang School of karate, judo, jujitsu, kung-fu and power control. Usually, it took at least seven years of intense training to graduate, but he had finished in four and a half. That made him the instructor's most prized apprentice. He still went at the dojo three times a week, to practice what he had learned, and sometimes learn new tricks his 'master' showed him. Also, he was sometimes paid to give classes to younger karate students.
He had a few friends, who didn't know about his criminal activities, of course. They didn't know much of Nathaniel, but knew they could count on him in any situation, and rely on his great intelligence. They sometimes wondered why a successful boy like his didn't move to a bigger city to finish his studies in a private school to obtain a diploma that would give him a good job, but the only one who could answer had the delights of not talking. Nathaniel himself.
In reality, Nathan longed to go to the city where he could work more on his criminal activities and build a small following, but for now, he preferred lying low.
A sound was heard from the T.V. room when he dropped his heavy school bag on the wooden floor and keys on the counter. A few instants later, a big berneese mountain dog arrived, and wagged his tail at the sight of his master. Nathan petted him for a while, walking to the small kitchen. He took a can from the fridge, and opened it to drink the cold liquid.
Earlier in the afternoon, His sweared enemy, his girlfriend's ex, had cornered him walking out of the gym. Nathan was almost a professional fighter and would have handled him and his gang very easily if they hadn't attacked in a big group, armed with a few baseball bats. He had received a very hard blow behind the head and had a bloodcurdling headache since then. Weirdly, he hadn't left with any visible mark proving that he had fought. He had left Harris, his enemy, with a black eye, a broken rib and a huge mark on one of his cheeks. The boys in his gang had left with many bruises, two with a broken nose and three with a dislocated jaw. He really was the one who had hurt them more, but really felt like suing the person that had hit him with the bat. When he was getting hit, a very violent rage build up in him, and it was more feral than human. It had taken a lot to control it, and he knew it.
Nathaniel walked up the stairs to his room, and shut the door before his dog could enter. He jumped in his bed, with the idea of sleeping a while to make the headache go away, and fell asleep almost immediately.
At the same time, the X-gene was developing itself in his blood system, transforming him into one of what were the twenty first century's most feared and rejected race of people: Mutants.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hoped you liked this introduction.
Review to tell me what you think.
~Author: Hello. I'm Wild Craze, the author of the story you are about to read (if you're not, what are you doing here?). I just wanted to specify my name because I guess that a big part of you people (like me) copy the stuff and read it off line, so I would like you to be able to find track of me again if you like what I write, and because I guess it's only fair that if you read my stuff, you should review.
~Rating: PG-13, before it was only for safety, but now it's for the violence
~Summary: This story is about a boy that has a strange life, even before becoming a mutant. Its more adventure and action like, but I will definitely add romance.
~Disclaimer: I'm not going to say that I don't own X-Men, 'cause that's totally obvious.
This is my first X-Men fic that I actually send, so please be nice, even though I greatly appreciate some CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 1: A life out of the ordinary
The boy calmly shut his home's entrance door, took off his running shoes and placed them on the plastic mat, as he always did when he came back from school.
His baggy jeans were battered at the rims and on the knee area, but they were still in good shape. Because he followed the style policy, he was also wearing a long sleeved shirt, on top of which was a t-shirt. One was dark blue and the other was red, with a skating symbol on it.
He was definitely a North American with his lightly tanned skin, strong muscles and dark hair. He was quite a normal boy, except for the blue died tip of his hair and abnormally green eyes. People noticed that he had an earring on his left ear, but it was quite frequent these days. Most of the boys in his neighbourhood already had tattoos and piercings in different body parts, so he wasn't seen as an insubordinate boy.
But the old saying comes around: don't be fooled by what you see.
The truth was that he was more unlawful than all those boys of the neighbourhood put together. Without anyone in his town knowing, he was a criminal mastermind very acknowledged by the international underworld, mostly in New York, Montreal, San Francisco, Paris, London and Miami. No one in these cities knew what he looked like, or even what age he was, but all they knew that great help he brought to the strong backstreet Mafioso groups. Even they couldn't trace him down, because they had no idea that they were looking for a seventeen-year-old boy that still lived with his parents in a lost town about two hours from Toronto, in the middle of small woods and fields. They were intrigued by this person only known to them through the alias Bait Hunter, someone to who they spoke through a complicated chat room through the Internet. This person was only in that chat room for ten minutes two times a week, from four o'clock, to four ten, Tuesday and Friday, waiting to see if his correspondents needed anything he could help them with. In exchange, he had a rational amount of money put into one of his multiple Swiss bank accounts, information on different subjects, and a contract, proving that in exchange of his help, the people he assisted had to accept a few services he asked for. Up to now, he had never asked anything to any of those groups.
In his city, he was known as Nathaniel Cage, best student in his advanced class at Saint Paul's civic seminary and captain of a basketball team he had rendered invincible against any of the surrounding cities. He was also a graduate at the Jung Lang School of karate, judo, jujitsu, kung-fu and power control. Usually, it took at least seven years of intense training to graduate, but he had finished in four and a half. That made him the instructor's most prized apprentice. He still went at the dojo three times a week, to practice what he had learned, and sometimes learn new tricks his 'master' showed him. Also, he was sometimes paid to give classes to younger karate students.
He had a few friends, who didn't know about his criminal activities, of course. They didn't know much of Nathaniel, but knew they could count on him in any situation, and rely on his great intelligence. They sometimes wondered why a successful boy like his didn't move to a bigger city to finish his studies in a private school to obtain a diploma that would give him a good job, but the only one who could answer had the delights of not talking. Nathaniel himself.
In reality, Nathan longed to go to the city where he could work more on his criminal activities and build a small following, but for now, he preferred lying low.
A sound was heard from the T.V. room when he dropped his heavy school bag on the wooden floor and keys on the counter. A few instants later, a big berneese mountain dog arrived, and wagged his tail at the sight of his master. Nathan petted him for a while, walking to the small kitchen. He took a can from the fridge, and opened it to drink the cold liquid.
Earlier in the afternoon, His sweared enemy, his girlfriend's ex, had cornered him walking out of the gym. Nathan was almost a professional fighter and would have handled him and his gang very easily if they hadn't attacked in a big group, armed with a few baseball bats. He had received a very hard blow behind the head and had a bloodcurdling headache since then. Weirdly, he hadn't left with any visible mark proving that he had fought. He had left Harris, his enemy, with a black eye, a broken rib and a huge mark on one of his cheeks. The boys in his gang had left with many bruises, two with a broken nose and three with a dislocated jaw. He really was the one who had hurt them more, but really felt like suing the person that had hit him with the bat. When he was getting hit, a very violent rage build up in him, and it was more feral than human. It had taken a lot to control it, and he knew it.
Nathaniel walked up the stairs to his room, and shut the door before his dog could enter. He jumped in his bed, with the idea of sleeping a while to make the headache go away, and fell asleep almost immediately.
At the same time, the X-gene was developing itself in his blood system, transforming him into one of what were the twenty first century's most feared and rejected race of people: Mutants.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hoped you liked this introduction.
Review to tell me what you think.