Alright! I am gonna do this one a wee bit differently, in hopes if getting some better results. Now that I've been exposed to a few talented writers on here, I am realizing I'd be best off taking a more familiar tone .. . . hope you enjoy!

Come to think of it - hope you review. ;)

Other points of interest. I am taking requests or suggestions for future villains you'd like to see my take on! Although I have some loose plans for the next however many issues, I wouldn't mind getting some feedback here.

I especially would like feedback on the change in styles, from script format to story mode!



Issue #7 X-Men

"Gentleman, welcome to the Xavier Institute."

Bobby's jaw had dropped seeing the place from a distance. He'd seen a lot of things since finding out he was a mutant, since being kicked out of his own home. "Son, dress warmly, there's an angry mob after you. Bye."

That wasn't fair to his parents. They hardly had a choice in the matter, and besides, Bobby'd made up his mind to split, anyway.

Things went downhill from there. . . Yeah, and after starting on such a high note, too.

He hadn't told the others much about it. Only how Scott had helped him in the infamous "Fort Washington" situation. He'd tactfully left out the fact he'd still managed to amuse himself with innocent bystanders in the time since then. Oh, nothing dangerous, of course. Hey, a harmless freezing could go a long way in the right- well, ok, make that wrong hands.

Now this place, he could get to like. Sure, it didn't look quite as comfy as an empty discarded television box, somewhere Bobby'd ended up a time or two on his recent . . . adventures.

Bobby had decided adventures had a much less embarrassing sound to it than, "their desperate imitation of a hobo's life, while Scott looked for his dead brother."

Realizing he was the only one not to say something, Bobby let out an impressed whistle. The Xavier family's been here ten generations, got it. Content that he was listening, Xavier resumed his speech.

"Over the years, as true as we've tried to keep it to it's roots, there have been a number of changes, especially during our occupation during my years with a previous team. . ." Xavier paused. Bobby caught that look on his face, the one that said, "This subject will come up later - but not today."

"It's also served as a school in the past," Jean chimed in. "Usually a private school. It did serve a broader public base during the world wars."

Charles nodded. Despite being virtually expressionless, Bobby did get the impression he looked back on the school's history with a certain sense of pride.

"So what you are proposing," Hank said, filling in the gap in the conversation, "is we make this our base of operations?"

"More than that," he responded, smiling gently. "Much, much more than that."

Bobby realized he wasn't sure if he was going to like where this was going.

"A place for you to be safe .. . . "

Bobby hadn't felt safe in a long time. Not since . . .. every mutant probably dealt with that, when they found out who they were.

Who and what.

"To learn about your powers."

Bobby realized - too late - he probably didn't help his chances of surviving by dropping out of school. Not that he had much choice.

"To use those gifts to make the world a better place."

Couldn't be too hard to improve. World sucks right now, Bobby thought to himself.

"And form a team, right?" Scott asked, shaking his head. "I never really pictured myself as a team player."

"I don't know," Bobby answered cheerfully, "we've always made a great team."

"Yeah, a team of two, real impressive," Scott answered.

"Let us not discount your efforts in both the battles with the cybernetic fiend, Apocalypse, as well as Fred Dukes," Xavier said. The battle with the mechanical entery, Apocalypse, had occurred just after they met. Scott and Bobby fleaed, only to end up teamed once again with the other mutants – this time in a pitched battle against Dukes.

Xavier had insisted they bring Dukes along – under an imposed telepathic sleep – in order to attempt to help him.

Somehow Bobby got the idea Xavier was very rarely without an answer to anything.

"Just imagine what you could do," Xavier continued in a voice that could almost be called passionate, "were you to combine your abilities. Forge them. . ."

"Under your leadership, right?" Scott asked curtly.

If Xavier noticed the bitterness in Scott's voice, he gave absolutely no acknowledgement of it, what so ever. His voice remained as calm as the gentle fall breeze that skirted the estate every so often. "I have the experience, and the ability to help forge you into something. Something to prove to the world that mutants and humans can co exist peacefully. Something to prove we're capable of policing our own."

Bobby couldn't help but notice the slight change on Scott's face. If not for the fact Scott was unable to remove those ruby quartz glasses, Bobby doubtlessly would have seen his eyes visibly light up at the comment. Xavier chose to let the statement linger in the air. Scott didn't answer right away.

Bobby glanced around, suddenly realizing Warren and Hank had vanished. . . . wondering where they'd wondered off to. . .

Guess they'd decided it was a private conversation, one they didn't want to impose on.

Scott's jaw tightened up slightly. "And you'll help me track down my brother? Like promised?"

Xavier's frown deepened noticeably. "As I said, if he's alive, we'll do everything in his power to track him down."

"If he's alive . . . . right," Scott answered him. Bobby had never known Scott to break down, show any weakness at all. If there was one time he could see it happening, it was now. . .

But Scott didn't break down. He even forced a grim smile. "Well, like I said, I'm interested in this plan of yours."

Attaboy, Bobby thought. Bobby? He was just sold on the idea of a warm bread . . . er, bed. Actually make that both. Food, a place to sleep that didn't involve the possibility of a poultry looking cop asking them to "move it along, fellas," and some new victims.

Faces! New faces, Bobby corrected himself. He suddenly wondered why the professor was gazing at him so harshly.

Oh, right. He's a telepath.

Almost forgot.

"I can assure you," Xavier said, "I rarely use my own gifts without good reason."

"Yeah . . . " Scott started. "About that . . "

Bobby had an idea where this conversation was going. He suddenly had the desire to be somewhere else.


Despite the size of the estate, even the outside, it didn't take Bobby long to spot the two, standing, eyeing another section of the building. Bobby decided not to make his presence known as he walked up behind them.

Hank surveyed the building carefully, letting a "Hmmm," out as he did. "Of the two expansions from the main building, I would hypothesize this one is the living quarters. Hard to say from this angle, though."

Warren flashed that thousand dollar smile of his. "I could always fly up there and take a look, Doctor McCoy."

"Oh, how impressive," Hank answered. Dry sarcasm. "I could leap up there, remove the upper half of the building with my amazing strength, and bring it down for further inspection."

Hank shot him a look that almost said, "Beat that."

"Or I could just fire you," Warren answered, not willing to let himself get one upped.

"Assuming you survive long enough!" Hank flashed a fangy smile, and leapt at Warren, taking him down.

Bobby watched the two for a few seconds, rather amused. Although they'd always been personable, Bobby had never pegged them to be the type wrestle around in the leaves.

Bobby had only worked with them for a couple weeks. Part of Scott's plan to . . . . that was a long enough story in itself. Suffice to say, their intentions were hardly noble.

Bobby had believed at the time Scott was justified in what he was doing. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't, but he was doing it in hopes of finding his long lost brother. Bobby could respect that - respect doing something out of loyalty to one's family.

Scott'd certainly been loyal to Bobby, ever since the day they'd met. . .

Bobby suddenly noticed Warren, pinned beneath Hank after reversing positions, looking up at him. Warren had a smile on that chiseled face of his, as he called out, "Geez, some security guard YOU turned out to be! Can't even lend a hand against Big Foot here."

"I'm too busy looking for one of your security files to hack into," Bobby responded, coolly. His eyes focused on something in the distance.

Hank looks up for a second, allowing Warren to deftly plant his legs under the beefy scientist and flip him over. Warren quickly scrambled to his feet and glided out of tackling distance. "What was that about, anyway?" Warren asked, as he landed on the other side of the young Bobby Drake.

Bobby didn't answer right away. He hadn't been looking forward to the subject. After thinking on the subject, he came to the simple conclusion there is no good way to explain hacking into someone's security system unless you were a desperate young genius, and she was an experienced older lady looking for love in all the wrong . . .

"I seriously need to get out more," Bobby said aloud to no one in particular.

"You broke into our security system because you needed a social life?" Warren flexed his wing in confusion.

"What?" Bobby snapped back to the present, blaming the short attention on lack of sleep. "No, I mean . . . nevermind. Like we said before, we were looking for information on Bobby's brother."

"Who you also think is dead?" Hank asked, standing up and brushing the dust and grass off his body with those oversized hands of is.

"Well. . . . see, only at first," Bobby answered, suddenly coming to the realization either he was missing a major part of the story, or it made absolutely no sense at all. How embarrassing would it be to come to the conclusion he'd only followed a deranged psychopath through the country in order to get out of school?

That wasn't true, of course. After Scott's intervention in the little mob incident, Bobby didn't have much of a "holding down the home front" option. Besides, the man wasn't a psychopath. Just determined.

"Think he froze?" Hank remarked. That got Bobby's attention.

"Wha? Oh, right. Like I said. . . . it's Scott's source."

"Which I would absolutely LOVE to share with you . . . " Scott's voice shifted from pure sarcasm to a more serious tone as he approached them from the distance. "But we've got something else to discuss first, so let's hold it off until never."

"Oh, quick, he's coming," Hank responded dryly. "Change the subject before he realizes we're talking about him."

"Right," Scott answered, drawing the word out a little. "So I'm assuming you've been discussing the pros and cons of joining?"

Bobby, Warren, and Hank all traded quick glances. "Sure, why not?" Bobby answered.

Scott grunted in agitation. Or was that a sigh? "Scott grunt-sighed" didn't sound like it had much dignity to it at all.

Scott ignored him. "Unless you're going to tell me otherwise, it looks like we're a team here."

Sighgrunted? That's a little better. . .

"'A team is a team is a team. Shakespeare said that many times,'" Hank said simply.

Maybe if I invented a new word for it, Bobby's train of thought continued, unabashed.

Realizing the others were starring at him (well, Bobby was kind of starring off into space again), he quickly added, "Dan Devine. Football coach. In case you couldn't tell, I got a lot of 'inspirational pitches' thrown at me by college football captains in my day.'" He flashed that toothy, fangy smile of his at the others again.

Somehow that notion didn't surprise Bobby in the least. Hank looked like he would make a hell of a defensive lineman. Or two.

"Forming a band of . . . what, heroes? Renegades? Political party for the greater good of mutants everywhere?" Warren scratched his chin, deep in thought. "It's noble and all, but it kind of sounds . . ."

"Melodramatic," Hank suggested with a smile. "Perhaps even a trifle silly. Nevertheless, I think it's an opportunity deserving of a chance."

"I guess we could spare a few weeks away from the labs," Warren answered, still mulling it over in his head.

"Great to hear!" The voice of Jean Gray. The others turned to greet her. It wasn't much of a stretch to say the four considered Jean one of the definite perks of this proposal. Bobby wasn't sure if it was just him, or if the color drained ever so slightly from her face when they turned to greet her.

Heh, a shy mind reader. That must suck.

Hank bowed steeply as she walked up between the four.

All eyes on her, she realized. "I promise you, then, you've made the right decision."

Bobby wondered . . . still felt like someone was pulling their strings, but he wasn't sure who. Xavier and Jean were both telepaths . . . Jean glanced a look at Bobby, making him wonder if she'd caught that stray thought, but she said nothing.

Maybe it was Hank or Warren who'd set up the information leak in order to lure Bobby and Scott to it? After all, they handled some pretty big robotic research there, thanks to the tie in with Lexcorps. But it wasn't like they worked for Stark Technologies. Could they have even come close to building a robot of that size?

And to what end? After all, they would have had to have known about Bobby and Scott to even set such a plan into motion.

No, Bobby realized none of those theories made sense, but neither did a random meeting resulting in five mutants meeting and forming a super heroic group.

Maybe it didn't have to make sense, he told himself, drifting back into the conversation. The others seemed willing to take Xavier up on his offer to stay at the mansion. Bobby was hardly of a mindset to disagree.

"Right then, let's get started. I've a small but modest list . . ." Hank pulls out a large notebook. "Which starts with some subtly eyeing and then hitting on every female within visual range . . ." Hank glances up at Jean, who glares back. "ALRIGHT! Barring minors and any capable of levitating a mountain over my head. HEY!"

Bobby swiftly grabbed the list from the Doctor's oversized hands. "Let's see . . . move furniture in. Furniture, pfft, snob. Set up laboratory. . . Calibe . . . something. . . "

"I believe the word is caliabrate. . " Hank snatched the list back along with his explanation.

Blank stare from Bobby.

"He means he has to get it running," Warren offered.

"Why didn't you just write that?" Bobby asked, to which Hank replied that he had, prompting a giggle from Jean.

Despite the ruby quartz glasses, Scott managed to shoot Warren a look that said, "See what I have to put up with?" Warren glanced at Hank, as if to say, "I know what you mean."

Jean listened to the exchange continue a few more minutes, until something else caught her attention. "Ok, guys, the professor needs me, so whenever you're ready, give us a call, and we'll figure out what rooms you'll get. Hank, would you mind helping me attend to our other . . . guest?"

Dukes, no doubt. "T'would be a pleasure, madam!" Hank gave her a ridiculously over dramatic bow, then bounded to her side.

"Wait," Scott called as she walked off. "How'll we know where to find you?"

Jean tapped a finger on her forehead. "Guess."

Scott watched as she vanished over a slope, towards the school along side the oversized genius. Bobby couldn't help but think this was definitely going to be interesting.


Shorter than usual, I guess, huh?

Don't worry, the action's going to pick up over the next few chapters, as the students get a taste of Cerebro, Charles Xavier's old team, and . . . the Danger Room!

Plus a few cameos to establish what kind of world they are in.

Joshua
- "Please review me!"
- "Hm, that did SO not sound right!"