Author's notes. The first issue not originally posted on my Conundrum site which is now gone anyway, and it's a doozie! Hopefully the rest of the issues won't take me six months each to write, but this one was tough as heck. It's also the biggest issue so far. Hopefully you all will read and review it soon!
DarkSabertooth: Thanks for the kind review! I plan to keep it up for a while. Glad you are enjoying.
Joshua
(Jean Gray was in the middle of a very long, grueling day. To say the least. It started out, at least, with some semblance of normality. Jean and her private mentor, Professor Charles Xavier, had detected what they could only classify as an abnormality. Something out of place - something dangerous. The plan was to go for a ride, maybe do some shopping [which Jean had very much enjoyed], and see if they could track it down.
(Tracking it proved to be the easy part. The psychic disturbances and a series of unidentified mutant signatures lead them to the first few twists. Four mutants seemed to be battling, two on each side. Jean, with Professor Xavier's help, was able to silence the fight with impressive efficiency. The peace would not last long, however, before a gigantic being with amazing power had made it's presence known as it challenged them to "prove themselves worthy of survival" in battle. They almost didn't.
(With Jean's help and Xavier's guidance, the four male mutants managed to turn the tide, however, and defeat what - in possibly the strangest twist so far - turned out to be nothing more than a robot. With the mechanical menace subdued, however, the temporary alliance between Jean's newly met fellow mutants was apparently off.
(Without so much as a goodbye [although Bobby was kind enough to leave a protective ice shield as a goodbye present, to keep them from interfering] the younger pair, Bobby Drake and Scott Summers, took off, leaving Jean, Professor, and the other two behind. Their names were Professor Henry McCoy - or Hank as he insisted upon being called, and Warren Worthington, the third. Jean had to admit, once she got a chance to lay her eyes on him a little later . . . let's just say she felt a bit tongue tied for a few minutes.
(That passed soon enough. Jean and they discussed following him, with our feelings being torn on the issue. On the professor's urging, She reached out, trying to determine where they were at, and if they were a potential threat in general.
She definitely felt a threat. More like a feeling . . . a feeling that something was going to explode. Jean was sure of it. So sure, in fact, that she reversed her stand on the debate and insisted they attempt to follow the situation.
(It lead her to this little combination of a circus and an amusement park, and to the handsome young Scott Summers. It also lead to this peculiar indoor wrestling match. [Or would that be "In tent" for a circus?] Jean could tell this was what she had been the reason she'd sensed and impending explosion right away. What was about to happen, or how, however, had been just beyond the well trained reaches of her mind, however.
(As of a few seconds ago, when the gigantic person in the ring who the ring announcer had kept referring to, rather fittingly, as "Blob," had apparently flipped out and attacked a fan, it all made sense. Jean wanted to tell Scott how dangerous the situation was. She wanted to warn him. She just wanted to stand up. She couldn't. After that horrific backlash of hatred and anger from this "Blob" man, she couldn't even whisper a protest as Scott carried her off. The circus was a mess of chaos, as people started to realize this wasn't a game, anymore.
(It was all too serious, Jean realized, fighting to keep herself from blacking out.)
* blink *
Jean accepted the fact, suddenly, that there was nothing to do, anymore. At least, not right now. She couldn't remember why, but she realized she needed her strength. This overwhelming, sense numbing darkness somehow comforted her. Engaging, in it's own horribly slow way.
Cold and impersonal, but for her and perhaps only her, also warm and inviting. Memories were going to show now. Jean liked this part, even though they were frightening, and she knew they could lie all too well. Still, it would break up the numbness she felt. Sometimes, when she first visited this place, a few years ago and for several months, she'd see a flash of it.
The accident. When Katie - No! she reminded herself. She's over that, and she has to focus on what she's seeing. After all, it was a special treat. It obviously was someone else's memory.
Even in the just post stages of toddler-hood, the figure in front of her wasn't all that attractive, either mentally or physically. Long, badly cropped blond hair hung down the sides of his misshapen head. Jean could "read" his age from the image. This was a nine year old, who'd be turning ten in a few months.
Two grubby hands hold toy soldiers. One had the Captain America symbol on it. He sat cross-legged in a patch of grass and dirt in mock- violent bliss. A few other smaller action figures laid to the side. Human Torch and someone else she didn't recognize laid, from the looks of it. Within a few minutes of his exert childlike guidance, the old looking Captain America figure quickly disposes of the other figures in due order.
"Alright." The kid smiled. The voice sounded full of youthful innocence, and an undeniable mix of hostility and aggression. "You got them, but see if you can stand up to your biggest nemesis ever . . ." He looked around his oversized body a few times . . . "biggest nemesis ever . . . Oh, man! I must have left my Captain N figure inside! I better hurry before . . ."
He forced himself to stand up as quickly as he could, but it was too late. He looked up to be confronted with an older, greasy haired man in bib overhauls. Jean sensed he as truly ugly on the inside as the out. The younger child frowned. He HATED this part of his life!
He smiled a grin. Jean couldn't make out from Dukes memories if he had all, some, or none of his teeth still. "Alright, boy! Time for the daily beatin's!"
Jean tried to yank away from the images, but she couldn't . . . she had no choice, she realized dimly . .
(Scott realized a few steps in, that she was already unconscious. How or why, he couldn't phantom - and he had no time to figure it out. The peril of the situation just kept increasing, like a hole tightening around him. People were fleeing from this "Blob" character, Fred. J. Dukes, Scott remembered was his name, but if Scott used his powers, he'd risk facing a full time mob. Wouldn't be the first. Dukes was waving his arms, frantically and dramatically going after anyone that got close to him. The wrestlers and Bobby seemed to be watching for the moment, trying to figure what to do, and what to make out of the situation. Dukes looked crazy over there.
(He felt crazed, too. Like his head was about to explode. His vision blurred, but he could see these people were going insane around him. Suddenly something stood out among the gray haze. A piece of food! He had to have it. Something seemed like it was getting in his way, so he swung a forearm. In his mind, whatever it was spun into oblivion, as he picked up his golden saving grace, and stuffed it into his mouth.
(Bobby and Stevie watched from a safe distance after Crusher plowed by him. They knew Dukes had suddenly become dangerous. How they came to that conclusion? Maybe it was the fact he left the impression of a fist in the steel supports on the wrestling ring. Mike didn't care, however. Crusher didn't want some rookie upstaging him. He took off full steam, intent on knocking Dukes into next week. [In Stevie's mind, the match was over - they weren't the characters they played. Dukes wasn't "The Blob," Mike wasn't "Mickey D," and Stevie sure as hell wasn't "Stefan." Crusher, on the other hand, would probably be Crusher in Stevie's mind, no matter what. Mike too a few steps towards the fight.)
Bobby: Hey! Where're you going?!
Mike: I don't know about you, but this thing is looking kind of dangerous.
Stevie: And that's a reason to GET CLOSER?!
(Mike grabbed Stevie's arm.)
Mike: Come ON!
Stevie: Yikes!
(Just ahead of them, Crusher wailed away on Blob, who backed off in pain. Like he'd done earlier during their match, Blob leveled the famous wrestler with a forearm shot! Crusher was sent reeling back, into the last few fans who were carefully trying to get around the battle without getting caught up in it. Crusher pulled himself to his feet, throwing aside anyone in his way.)
Stevie: Hey, if Crusher wants to get his butt kicked, I say we let him. I know a killer pizza place down the road and . .
(Mike turned to him with a harsh stare meant to let Stevie know he was being serious.)
Mike: Hey, if you wanna run, fine. I might not like the jerk, but if we don't step in, someone's gonna get hurt, and it'll probably be someone innocent. Bobby, you better stay out of this and leave it to us.
Bobby: But . . I. . . I don't think that's a good . .
Mike: [in a more authoritative voice] Go! Stefan come, on!
Stevie: But . . . I . . . I don't think that's a good . .
[Mike yanked Stevie by the arm and dragged him towards the threat. Bobby turned around, not really sure what to do, and spotted Scott in the distance, half dragging that redhead behind him. She looked unconscious. Bobby briefly wondered if Scott had done it, or if it was something else. Bobby quickly rushed over to help his old friend. They'd known each other as they'd attended the same community high school growing up. Scott was over two years older than Bobby, and, after a hard life at the orphanage, striking out on his own.
[Scott had always been quiet, always been the loner. Bobby wasn't popular, but Scott was downright shunned. His aloof attitude and surely disposition might have had something to do with that. Still, Bobby had managed to warm up to him. In fact, when Bobby found out more about Scott, he ended up leaving school behind to tag after Scott. Scott didn't approve, but he knew what Bobby had been through. Somehow Bobby had gotten to him, a little . . .
[Bobby forced his mind back into the present. No time for silly reminiscing. Bobby slid himself under one of the young redhead's arms.]
Bobby: How'd she get here? And why's she unconscious? Scott, you didn't . .
[Scott cut him off.]
Scott: No! Of course not. It's just that, as soon as that Blob guy started going crazy, she just started to scream, then passed out. We need to get her somewhere safe!
Bobby: Looks like he's got the same idea.
[Even as Bobby and Scott try to figure a way out, Fred Dukes's apparent battle with the three wrestlers, and the feeling fans continued, as he sent Crusher flying through the side of the tent! Turning towards what he sees as the next threat, Dukes charged towards Stefan and Mike D. He'd never moved this fast before, it was like a freight train running straight for them for a split second.
[Only within that split second. Within the next, the floor between the mammoth out of control mutant, and his would be victims had suddenly frozen over. The blob like Dukes foot caught nothing but ice, nearly cracking it through as if it wasn't even there.
Scott: Hey! We can't afford to use our powers here, what if someone . . ?
[He didn't get to finish that thought - Bobby's ice floor did it's job. A second later, Dukes's leg flew up, sailing into the air. Mass unabated, the rest of his body followed. Scott, Stevie, and Mike were hardly able to mentally keep up with the image as he landed on his back, and continued sailing towards an unoccupied corner of the tent. Dukes crashed into it, causing a resounding crash. Bobby hardly noticed it was falling directly towards Bobby and Scott before an emerald blast cut it off. The two pieces crashed violently to either side of them, even as Bobby sent a pillar of ice to keep the tent from caving in.]
Bobby: Too late to worry about that. Right?
Scott: (reluctantly) Right. Come on, we might as well try to help while we're here.
[Dukes, meanwhile, had torn his way free of the tent, although judging from the screams outside, he was raising just as much havoc out there. Bobby and Scott looked up towards the general direction the horrified screams were coming from, but Scott's attention quickly returned to the unconscious Jean.]
[Jean mentally winced her eyes shut at first. She'd known that abuse was a common problem for young mutants, when their parents didn't accept them. Still, actually seeing it was . .
[Jean suddenly realized she was "hearing" light grunts from the young Dukes, and a repeated gentle, soft thumping. She then heard a heavy sigh, and Dukes voice saying, "I hate this!" Cautiously, Jean slowly opened her "eyes," worried it was some kind of a trick.
[She finally opened them, to see the rather odd sight of the young Fred Dukes beating on what looked like an . . . animal caucus? Jean couldn't help but stare, wondering what it means. . .]
Dukes: This's so stupid! Why am I doing this, again, Pa?
[Jean looked up to see him. Dukes father wasn't really that fat, although the gut was noticeable even though that loose fitting flannel tshirt. He's got fuzzily blackish hair set in a short cut, receding hairline style. He scrunched his face up in a vaguely annoyed fashion.]
Pa: Don't call me Pa!
Dukes: Sorry, Pa.
Pa: That's better. Now why do I do anything, with the exception of avoiding your mother, which I do for constant health?
[Dukes looked up momentarily from his meat beating duties to respond.]
Dukes: Finding a beta vcr to play your old jogging tapes in?
[His father roughly tugged at his thinning hair.]
Pa: No, you landfill! It was SPRINTING, anyway. The answer is, "Making money!" Now get back to tenderizing that meat or no raw fish for you, pallie!
[Dukes rammed his fist into the meat again, obviously not into it.]
Dukes: I still don't see how this's gonna make you money. Who's gonna pay to see my beatin' up on my meat?
[Fred's father winced at that mental image. Who wouldn't?]
Pa: No, you idiot! I'm going to open my own loose meat store!
Dukes: Oh, ok.
[He punched it a few more times, whistling a totally random sho-tune, then suddenly snapped his head up.]
Dukes: Waitamin, you mean we can't EAT these?!
Pa: No, you don't EAT them! What's wrong with you?!
Dukes: Um, I'm hungry? Duh!
Pa: No, hot dog and gravy lad. We're gonna sell 'em, m'boy! Finally be able to get that fancy toilet with the modern flushing I've been being read to so much about.
[With that, Dukes stopped swinging for a minute to look up.]
Dukes: Argh! Ok, there, you've done it, you've totally ruined my appetite!
[He flexed his shoulders a little, then licked his lips.]
Dukes: Nevermind, it's back.
Pa: [slapping his forehead in frustration] It's back. Of COURSE it's back!
Dukes: This's boring, this memory needs something exciting to happen. .
[Jean hardly had caught that strange comment, and the implications there of, when suddenly, the whole scene in front of her seemed to turn to several shades of dark gray and ugly greens. Everything seemed to blur out in front of her, except, of course, for Dukes himself. He looked sinister, and suddenly, he looked a lot older. More like, say, his real age, Jean thought. Everything came back to her in a rush. She was trapped inside her memories, the same way Jean had been trapped inside . .
[A cupcake suddenly appeared. A giant, way too colorful, almost glowing cupcake stumbled in on two cream like tentacles. Dukes watched in half horror, half amusement as it swallowed the shadowy image that, seconds ago, had been his "father," or at least, a mental graphical representation there of. Jean tried to move, and she did, even though her limbs were frozen. Strange music seemed to play for a second as Dukes's face contorted to one of rage. He howled into the darkening void . . ]
Dukes: I'll avenge you, father! Delicious, tasty revenge shall be MINE!!
[Shadowy figures appeared out of no where, with some of them seeming quite familiar. A winged shadow dove, seeming to save another shadow. Two more blasted Dukes from the distance, keeping him away from the cupcake, but Dukes fought, more tenacious than humanly possible, it seemed . . Finally, it grabbed a piece of the cupcake, and ate it.
[A moment of bliss, followed by a moment of confusion, anger, and hatred.]
Dukes: This isn't a cupcake. It's wood! WOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!
[Then the whole scene turned red, as lava seemed to erupt everywhere in this gray scene that had slowly been turning into a circus tent. Jean watched in horror as, in the distance, a Ferris Wheel that wasn't there even two seconds ago was swallowed into a gigantic gray hole. This strange world twisted upon itself below her feet. She jumped to one side, then suddenly everything else vanished . . Jean was falling through the air, towards . . . she immediately sensed she didn't want to know the answer to that.
[She was falling faster, and faster, for an impossible length of time, even though she knew it was only micro sections. No way out, no escape. She couldn't focus, she couldn't relax, she couldn't use her telekinesis. There was only darkness, blackness. Everything felt numb when she tried to levitates herself with her telekinesis. Everything hurt when she tried to wake herself from this dream.
[She felt helpless, like it was about to end, very unpleasantly, any second. She tried to focus again, but it didn't work. She felt the vague sensation she was sticking her finger in an electric socket every time she reached for her powers.
[She knew something was going on, she sensed the others needed her help. She reached again, and felt her bones suddenly rattle. It didn't make any noise in the void. It seemed like nothing did. She couldn't give up. Desperate, more so than before, she reached inside, trying to use her abilities again. Nothing happened. She tried harder. It started to hurt. Suddenly, she heard the Professor's voice. .
[Things started to come to a standstill, things started to fade. She felt terrified. Terrified, but safe, for the moment . .
[The professor had done it. . ]
[Scott stopped from the momentary attack, as the others swilled around the rampaging Blob in earnest, trying to slow him down or even stop him. With a single swap of his arm, he sent the bald psychotic Crusher Hogan, and the inhumanly strong and agile Doctor Henry McCoy flying to one side with an ease and grace that such a big piece of fat shouldn't logically be capable of, Bobby thought. Scott turned to where he'd left Jean, still unconscious, in Professor X's arms. He'd shown up, along with those other two mutants, not long after Scott decided he and Bobby had to try to help.]
Scott: She's coming to, isn't she? We could use the help about now.
[With that, Scott turned, and leveled yet another optic blast at the Blob like Frank Dukes. He'd realized he'd had to pick his spots after one beam only glazed Dukes shoulder, somehow getting redirected and destroying a nearby arcade stand in a rather explosive fashion. Bobby's attempts to freeze him solid had only caused Bobby to over exert himself in his desperation. Stefan had gladly offered to carry Bobby somewhere safer to recover his senses.]
[Hank staggered to his feet, holding his head. Warren quickly swooped in besides him.]
Warren: I don't think this's working.
Hank: I tend ot concur, although I can't find it in my heart to agree with the quote, "I feel sorry for someone who has to win at everything," in this case.
Warren: That doesn't sound like Shakespeare. Let me guess, Bill Gates? Michael Jordon?
Hank: Snoopy, actually. Pardon me a minute.
[Dukes had pitched Mike D through the air without even realizing what he was doing. With effortless grace and poise, Hank somersaulted through the air, catching Mike midair effortlessly. As Hank returned him to a standing position, Mike took a step forward, ready to rush back into battle.]
Mike: If you ladies are done running your mouths, I could use a little help here.
[Hank turned to Warren as the rebellious wrestling rookie charged back into action. Surprisingly, Dukes had turned his back to them.]
Hank: Impetuous sort, isn't he?
Warren: Maybe we better keep him out of trouble.
[Crusher Hogan was still laid out on the ground. The four mutants, Scott Summers, Bobby Drake, Henry "Hank" McCoy, and Warren Worthington, III, stood around the starry eyed Dukes, with Mike D filling in the gap. Crusher was still laid out, apparently unconscious. Dukes, oddly, had his back turned to them. He staggered forward, towards a popcorn machine, and punched his fist straight through it, then ducked his head in, eating whatever fell through, glass included. The others watched, confused. . .]
Warren: Oook, now what?
Hank: His actions certainly are most unusual . .
Scott: He's just trying to throw us off. Get ready for anything!
Dukes: Shut up, SHUT UP SHUT UP!! I don't need this NOOOOOOOISE!!
[After finishing the popcorn, and half the glass, with surprisingly speed, Dukes turned, lifted the whole popcorn machine above his head, and hurled it towards Mike!
[Mike's life didn't even have time to flash before his eyes before an optic beam spared it, courtesy of Scott Summers. Dukes turned, and suddenly found himself on a thick sheet of ice, hardly able to keep his footing. Warren, circling above, swooped in to take advantage of the opportunity.]
Warren: Nice setup, now let's just see if we can't put this baby down!
[Warren's suddenly a blur of feathers and skin, as he swoops down at the off balance mammoth mutant Fred Dukes, catching him square in the chest. Dukes manages to hold his ground. Warren tries again, only to find his foot caught in Dukes mammoth grip. Dukes spun him in a half circle and threw him into the air. Warren was too stunned to get his wings working, he realized, as he plummeted towards the ground. Hank, however, captured his old friends with an almost disturbing amount of ease and grace.]
Hank: The expression is "Back to the old drawing board," my friend, not "plummeting to my death."
Warren: You're losing your touch, old friend. But thanks for the save.
Hank: Eh, I never was good with improv.
[As the attack furiously continued, something occurred to Scott. It was like learning to dance. Dukes seemed unbeatable still, but now they at least were gaining a foothold. Mike D found himself nearly decapitated again when Dukes hurled an arcade machine at him, with no one around to save him, but he managed to just barely avoid it. Jean tried another mental probe. Charles and then Scott in turn warned her not to push herself any harder.
[She began to feel the strain as she mentally deflected a projectile thrown by Dukes - a wooden mock totem pole - with her telekinesis. Her knees almost buckled, as the sensation of a small explosion behind her eyes rocked her vision. Scott moved over to balance her, even as he fired another optic blast at Dukes.]
Scott: Are you alright, Jean?
Jean: I'm fine, thanks . . . and . . . [her eyes suddenly lit up] I think I know how we can end this!
[Bobby, obviously starting to wear out, but still trying desperately to encase the rampaging Dukes in a sheet of ice, stepped back, avoiding another random projectile hurled at him.]
Bobby: We could use some ideas about now, lady!
[Dukes, having fended off another well organized but ultimately futile attack, turns his attention to the nearest object - a sealed up hot dog stand. It's locked - so he simply rams an increasingly meaty fist through the steel sides, and pulls out a handful of hot dogs and buns.]
Jean: He's starving. I think his body's started to mutate. It's trying to put on extra mass, and as a result, he's starving to death.
Bobby: Ouch. No wonder he's in such a bad mood.
[Jean stepped forward, sending out a brief mental signal to let everyone know she had a plan. She flexed her telekinetic power a little. The dust around her scattered into the air, as nearby objects shook ever so slightly.
Jean: Dukes, listen, we can help.
[Dukes suddenly convulsed, as if in agony. Suddenly, he brought his foot up - then down, causing the ground to shake, and globs of dust to rise up everywhere. It bounced harmlessly off Jean's telekinetic field.]
Dukes: Stop TALKING!! There's NO ONE here! NO one but me and my FOOD!
[Mike quickly stepped behind a protective shield of ice Bobby had thrown up.]
Bobby: Yeah, and here I thought there was a chance in hell talking would work.
Mike: Damn it, this's really getting annoying!
Jean: Alright - don't say I didn't warn you.
[Jean lifted herself slightly off the ground and positioned herself to Dukes side. He turned, his attention now focused on her. Scott blasted Dukes from the side.]
Jean: Scott, everyone, listen! We need to drive him back! Follow my lead.
[The others nodded in agreement, falling into line . . Mike D. Sherman. Bobby, Warren, Scott, Hank, even Crusher lent a hand. . .
[And follow her lead, they did. As one, the mutants and humans came together, making a massive, and strenuous effort to drive Dukes to a nearby farmer's field. Dukes, surrounded by food, even if it was vegetables, went crazy, eventually knocking falling asleep, finally ever so slightly full. The farmer wasn't pleased, but Xavier managed to telepathically calm him down, at least, long enough to explain he would pay for the damages . . .
[The others let out a tremendous cheer as he finally fell, almost ten full minutes after he'd realized he was in an area of much needed nutrition. All except for Crusher, who simply turned and stalked out of sight, Scott, who didn't seem affected by the "victory," and Xavier, who watched, contemplatively.
[After a few minutes of relaxing and celebrating, Scott and Xavier finally returned from a private discussion.]
[Warren was engaged in a conversation with Jean. Bobby was trading barbs with Hank. . . . all four looked up when they caught eye of the returning "Duo of Somberness . . ."]
Bobby: There you two are. Scott, we really should split, you know? I mean, someone's gonna find that human blob, and I don't think we wanna be around when . . .
Scott: (interrupting) Actually, we're going to have to take care of him.
Bobby: What? Are you INSANE?!
Xavier: I can insure you, we're in complete control of our senses. What I'm proposing is more than simply detaining a mutant. I'm proposing that we pool our individual talents into a collective unit. Bobby, pay attention!
Bobby: Yes, sir. I mean . . . I am paying attention! I just have no idea what you were talking about, so I wanted to focus on freeing Warren's wings together.
Warren: HEY!!
[Warren flexes his wings, shaking off the frost.]
Warren: Well, I can promise I was paying attention, and I'm still not sure what you're hinting at.
Hank: If I might interject, I would hypothesis that, based upon our stellar results against a pair of obviously suprerhuman threats, the professor was so jubilent over seeing our amazing display of teamwork, that he feels obligated to try to pool that potential into a dynamic, cohesive unit designed to protect and serve our world.
Bobby: Um right. So did you actually expect that to help clarify things for me?
Hank: In other words, he wants us to get together and fight the bad guys.
Bobby: That, I can relate to.
[Hank turned to discuss the matter further with Warren, while Bobby turned to listen to Scott's and Jean's take on the situation.]
Hank: Interesting proposition. Considering our recent misadventures at the laboratory, I suspect we'll have time to persue alternate activities while they rebuild the facilities.
Warren: Assuming they even let us within spitting distance of the building. I don't think my father's going to take too kindly to knowing a couple of mutants were behind our little fiasco with Apocalypse.
Hank: True . . . Although I'm sure we could convince him of the benefits of keeping us on board.
Warren: He HAS always told me I should learn this "mutant thing" and "take it seriously.
[Warren rolled his eyes.]
Warren: And he has a point.
Hank: Well, if wonders never cease. Somehow I never pictured you as publicly admitting your father was correct in any situation.
[Annoyed look flashed across Warren's face.]
Warren: Didn't say he was *right.* Just that he had a point. I guess I could give the idea a listen.
[The other five turned, almost in sync, to Xavier.]
Bobby: Hey, if Scott's in, I'm in.
Scott: I've got a few more questions, but this sounds like just what I need. Maybe it'll even help me find . . . [Rather than finish, Scott flashed an impatient look across Warren and Hank] So, you're in, or no?
Warren: No promises . . . but I think we like what we're hearing.
Hank: A brighter tomorrow, brought to you by the people of tomorrow. Eh. Why not?
[Xavier folded his hands into a temple formation, as a soft smile passed over his otherwise hard features.]
Xavier: Most pleasing news. I'm sure you'll find this project suitable to your ends, so let us convince at a more . . . . discreet location, and I'll lay out my dream of a better world, my young . . . . X-Men.
[End chapter]
