~x~X~x~
A thick fog of snow captured a man in its gloomy white blanket as he staggered to an unknown destination. He wasn't tired and he wasn't cold but in every way, he was lost. The black leather motor jacket he wore was wet and iced-over. His face exacted no emotion and yet in his mind were a dozen different situations he had yet to resolve. As he walked, the more memories resulted in his mind. There was a woman, a girl, a promise, a whole other life; all he had driven away from himself. Or the other way around; maybe he had driven them away. He had been so occupied with the privacy of his own unexplained past and his unknown future that he failed to see his present passing before him. The woman who he had pushed away by his missing presence was gone as she saved his life and many others. The girl he had become a second father to was growing up into a beautiful young lady with a possibly worse future than he would have; her never able to touch others or to felt by another, to feel the sweet kiss of the one she loved. The promise he had sworn to be a useful branch on the tree of Charles Xavier's loyal X-men, yet loyalty was never his strong points and neither was keeping promises. Shortly after sneaking out of the mansion that cold winter night, he realized what a mistake it had been to leave the only life he ever remembered as good. And instead of being glad he had it, he shoved it away just like he had done with the woman, the girl, and the promise. Logan's lip curled up, grieving what he had done to them all, wishing that he could return and get it all back in a second chance.
~x~X~x~
Back in Manchester New York, spring was starting to thaw out the last of the winters snow and children were back out on the front lawn, tossing sloshy snowballs towards one another. Through the window of a second story bedroom sat a girl, staring down at her world as only an outsider could. She felt ashamed of herself; ashamed of her capabilities. Most others had grown to accept and forget her power, the ability to kill someone with her touch, but she couldn't. She watched television mostly all morning and all day she saw couples holding hands, kissing and groping carefree to bring thier loves close to their body. It hurt her to watch a world she could never really join. Shutting the shades, the girl reached for her gloves and numbly pulled them up towards her elbows, realizing once again she was retreating back to a life she regretted. Her roomates were sitting on her bed by the door, laughing over some senior prank they all planned on using one day, too occupied to see the tear the girl was wiping away from her face.
"Hey Rogue, are you coming along with us to the snowball fight?" spoke one of the girls as she pulled on her Artec bright yellow jacket and ski goggles. The two girls beside her shared similar features of dress, all styled with neatly painted fingernails, lips, and ironed hair. Nearly instantly after meeting them, Rogue knew she was different, with her long wavy brown hair and Southern accent. The other girls talked so smart and witty, unlike her who was more reserved and careful with her words.
"No, you guys go ahead. I'm going to just finish some over-do homework." The girl with the goggles told the other two to meet her outside and they exited through the door, shutting it behind them, still chuckling. "Jubilee, I just don't know what to do anymore." she told her friend, who sat down across from her, a placid look of discontent on her face. Rogue shrugged and turned to face the shaded window, holding back more tears. "I'm never going to fit in." The girl reached for her gloved hand and squeezed it consolingly, a short smile passing her ruby painted lips.
"You already do." Jubilee said with a comforting smirk, "Your a mutant. Welcome to the club." As proud as everyone else was of their powers, Rogue just didn't feel the same. One day soon, she commented in her mind as she flashed the girl a fake grin, I'll be normal.
~x~X~x~
Months pass slower when your lost in time, trying to re-connect with the one day of your life you wish you could have back. He had lost more than time when that day was through, as was apparent to everyone in Xavier's school for the gifted, Scott Summers had lost his sanity, his hopes, and his reason to live. If there could possibly have been a more real connection and companionship between two people, Jean Grey and Scott Summers had it, that respectively has never really been lost even after that fateful day. The odds were stacked up against the shipful of passengers, including the frightened rescued children of Xaviers school and the heroic men and women doing everything imaginable to fight against a mad man bent on mutant annialation and the devilish mutant who would foil the entire mission. And Scott was in the middle of it, unaware of the moment that would soon come. A dam was about to flood the entire forest and the jet wouldn't start. The children in the back were scared, not to mention the older, more experianced men and women. The anxiety was so dense you couldn't slice through it with a knife if you wanted to. Scott was delivering every handbook piece of advice to Ororo, trying to find that one bit of information that would make the jet start-up. Nothing was working and time was running out; time just never hinted for who. The professor looked nervous as Cyclops gave him a quick glare.
"Where's Jean?" he instantly prompted himself to ask.
"She's outside," he spoke out with regret, his eyes drooping shut with a short gasped sigh. The crew passed curious expressions but soon they realized her mission, sending Scott immediatly into histerics. He ran towards the stairs, daring to drag his stubborn wife away to her safety. The stairs were retreating back up; the power was switched on; Jean was controlling the entire ship.
"Go get her!" Scott yelled at the reserved teleporter standing beside him but the yellow-eyed elf quietly made it known he was being held back. Jean was so stubborn!
"No, Jean, don't do this!" he yelled as he frantically rushed about the confined space of the ship. Everywhere he was made him uncomfortable, knowing he shouldn't be where he couldn't touch her or even just kiss her goodbye, if that was how it was going to end up. Only one other man in that ship could have possibly known the pain he endured as Jean, through Charles, told him she loved him and her final goodbye. Only he was the one stronger enough between the two to mutter the immortal words Scott would forever repeat to himself, 'She's gone'. Now it had been three months since Alkali Lake and Scott was still picking up the pieces of his shattered existence. Everything he knew had Jean's influence upon it; he couldn't breathe without recognizing it as something that reminded him of her, the way she moved, the way she spoke. Memories flooded his mind like the dam that had taken away the one woman he ever truly loved. And Scott swore, if he had to live like this forever, he would not live very long.
~x~X~x~
It was night in the hot South American jungle where fired up John Allerdyce stood beside his mentor, the powerful Eric Lensherr, Magneto. The air around him was as humid as a sauna and he didn't know what he was doing here, in the middle of nowhere watching a bunch of men carry boxes into a building marked in historic ink, 'Condemned'. The concrete on the building was so chipped and mossy even figuring out what it used to be was a challenge, one John wasn't interested enough to investigate. Flicking his lighter twice, he turned to his voluptous colleague, her eyes aglow in the darkness, and asked her a question.
"What are we doing here?"
"Making history." she remarked, a slight smile spreading across her blue lips as she gracefully walked towards the Hummer parked near the front of the building and got in the driver seat. Magneto turned towards John, his icey blue eyes twinkling, only in a way suggesting some evil lurking pleasure he took in the situation.
"You will find that most of histories lessons were learned the hard way, Pyro. Men didn't think about the repercussions of their actions; they were reckless and mismanaged. That is why, when I do things, I do them right." John's eyes collapsed into confusion, "We must set ourselves apart from them," he spoke disdainfully, "but never forget we are superior and always will be." The point being clearly missed by John, whose only question was his captivity in the dense jungle heat, caused Magneto put his arm around his recruited youngster, "You'll learn soon, my boy."
~x~X~x~
Stars weren't the only ones lighting up the Wisconsin farm field in the small town of Birchton the day the mysterious woman came into town. It was half-past midnight and a nearly naked woman with blazing red hair and uncontrollable flames exhuming from her limbs and head, giving every appearance of being on fire, came stumbling memoryless to the cow field. Screaming for mercy from her deplorable state of unpromising flashes of memories she could not puzzle together, she fell upon her face in sobs.
"Who am I?" called the woman out to the green grass and the choking flames that indescribably would not leave. "And what am I?"
~x~X~x~
A thick fog of snow captured a man in its gloomy white blanket as he staggered to an unknown destination. He wasn't tired and he wasn't cold but in every way, he was lost. The black leather motor jacket he wore was wet and iced-over. His face exacted no emotion and yet in his mind were a dozen different situations he had yet to resolve. As he walked, the more memories resulted in his mind. There was a woman, a girl, a promise, a whole other life; all he had driven away from himself. Or the other way around; maybe he had driven them away. He had been so occupied with the privacy of his own unexplained past and his unknown future that he failed to see his present passing before him. The woman who he had pushed away by his missing presence was gone as she saved his life and many others. The girl he had become a second father to was growing up into a beautiful young lady with a possibly worse future than he would have; her never able to touch others or to felt by another, to feel the sweet kiss of the one she loved. The promise he had sworn to be a useful branch on the tree of Charles Xavier's loyal X-men, yet loyalty was never his strong points and neither was keeping promises. Shortly after sneaking out of the mansion that cold winter night, he realized what a mistake it had been to leave the only life he ever remembered as good. And instead of being glad he had it, he shoved it away just like he had done with the woman, the girl, and the promise. Logan's lip curled up, grieving what he had done to them all, wishing that he could return and get it all back in a second chance.
~x~X~x~
Back in Manchester New York, spring was starting to thaw out the last of the winters snow and children were back out on the front lawn, tossing sloshy snowballs towards one another. Through the window of a second story bedroom sat a girl, staring down at her world as only an outsider could. She felt ashamed of herself; ashamed of her capabilities. Most others had grown to accept and forget her power, the ability to kill someone with her touch, but she couldn't. She watched television mostly all morning and all day she saw couples holding hands, kissing and groping carefree to bring thier loves close to their body. It hurt her to watch a world she could never really join. Shutting the shades, the girl reached for her gloves and numbly pulled them up towards her elbows, realizing once again she was retreating back to a life she regretted. Her roomates were sitting on her bed by the door, laughing over some senior prank they all planned on using one day, too occupied to see the tear the girl was wiping away from her face.
"Hey Rogue, are you coming along with us to the snowball fight?" spoke one of the girls as she pulled on her Artec bright yellow jacket and ski goggles. The two girls beside her shared similar features of dress, all styled with neatly painted fingernails, lips, and ironed hair. Nearly instantly after meeting them, Rogue knew she was different, with her long wavy brown hair and Southern accent. The other girls talked so smart and witty, unlike her who was more reserved and careful with her words.
"No, you guys go ahead. I'm going to just finish some over-do homework." The girl with the goggles told the other two to meet her outside and they exited through the door, shutting it behind them, still chuckling. "Jubilee, I just don't know what to do anymore." she told her friend, who sat down across from her, a placid look of discontent on her face. Rogue shrugged and turned to face the shaded window, holding back more tears. "I'm never going to fit in." The girl reached for her gloved hand and squeezed it consolingly, a short smile passing her ruby painted lips.
"You already do." Jubilee said with a comforting smirk, "Your a mutant. Welcome to the club." As proud as everyone else was of their powers, Rogue just didn't feel the same. One day soon, she commented in her mind as she flashed the girl a fake grin, I'll be normal.
~x~X~x~
Months pass slower when your lost in time, trying to re-connect with the one day of your life you wish you could have back. He had lost more than time when that day was through, as was apparent to everyone in Xavier's school for the gifted, Scott Summers had lost his sanity, his hopes, and his reason to live. If there could possibly have been a more real connection and companionship between two people, Jean Grey and Scott Summers had it, that respectively has never really been lost even after that fateful day. The odds were stacked up against the shipful of passengers, including the frightened rescued children of Xaviers school and the heroic men and women doing everything imaginable to fight against a mad man bent on mutant annialation and the devilish mutant who would foil the entire mission. And Scott was in the middle of it, unaware of the moment that would soon come. A dam was about to flood the entire forest and the jet wouldn't start. The children in the back were scared, not to mention the older, more experianced men and women. The anxiety was so dense you couldn't slice through it with a knife if you wanted to. Scott was delivering every handbook piece of advice to Ororo, trying to find that one bit of information that would make the jet start-up. Nothing was working and time was running out; time just never hinted for who. The professor looked nervous as Cyclops gave him a quick glare.
"Where's Jean?" he instantly prompted himself to ask.
"She's outside," he spoke out with regret, his eyes drooping shut with a short gasped sigh. The crew passed curious expressions but soon they realized her mission, sending Scott immediatly into histerics. He ran towards the stairs, daring to drag his stubborn wife away to her safety. The stairs were retreating back up; the power was switched on; Jean was controlling the entire ship.
"Go get her!" Scott yelled at the reserved teleporter standing beside him but the yellow-eyed elf quietly made it known he was being held back. Jean was so stubborn!
"No, Jean, don't do this!" he yelled as he frantically rushed about the confined space of the ship. Everywhere he was made him uncomfortable, knowing he shouldn't be where he couldn't touch her or even just kiss her goodbye, if that was how it was going to end up. Only one other man in that ship could have possibly known the pain he endured as Jean, through Charles, told him she loved him and her final goodbye. Only he was the one stronger enough between the two to mutter the immortal words Scott would forever repeat to himself, 'She's gone'. Now it had been three months since Alkali Lake and Scott was still picking up the pieces of his shattered existence. Everything he knew had Jean's influence upon it; he couldn't breathe without recognizing it as something that reminded him of her, the way she moved, the way she spoke. Memories flooded his mind like the dam that had taken away the one woman he ever truly loved. And Scott swore, if he had to live like this forever, he would not live very long.
~x~X~x~
It was night in the hot South American jungle where fired up John Allerdyce stood beside his mentor, the powerful Eric Lensherr, Magneto. The air around him was as humid as a sauna and he didn't know what he was doing here, in the middle of nowhere watching a bunch of men carry boxes into a building marked in historic ink, 'Condemned'. The concrete on the building was so chipped and mossy even figuring out what it used to be was a challenge, one John wasn't interested enough to investigate. Flicking his lighter twice, he turned to his voluptous colleague, her eyes aglow in the darkness, and asked her a question.
"What are we doing here?"
"Making history." she remarked, a slight smile spreading across her blue lips as she gracefully walked towards the Hummer parked near the front of the building and got in the driver seat. Magneto turned towards John, his icey blue eyes twinkling, only in a way suggesting some evil lurking pleasure he took in the situation.
"You will find that most of histories lessons were learned the hard way, Pyro. Men didn't think about the repercussions of their actions; they were reckless and mismanaged. That is why, when I do things, I do them right." John's eyes collapsed into confusion, "We must set ourselves apart from them," he spoke disdainfully, "but never forget we are superior and always will be." The point being clearly missed by John, whose only question was his captivity in the dense jungle heat, caused Magneto put his arm around his recruited youngster, "You'll learn soon, my boy."
~x~X~x~
Stars weren't the only ones lighting up the Wisconsin farm field in the small town of Birchton the day the mysterious woman came into town. It was half-past midnight and a nearly naked woman with blazing red hair and uncontrollable flames exhuming from her limbs and head, giving every appearance of being on fire, came stumbling memoryless to the cow field. Screaming for mercy from her deplorable state of unpromising flashes of memories she could not puzzle together, she fell upon her face in sobs.
"Who am I?" called the woman out to the green grass and the choking flames that indescribably would not leave. "And what am I?"
~x~X~x~
