Hello again, readers!
You all HAVE to go see the movie 'Underworld'. You HAVE TO! Besides the fact that it is now V.I.M. (very important movie) list, at the end, the cute guy (who becomes a werewolf) looks TOTALLY like Nightcrawler AND Wolvie combined together . . . 0_0 without a shirt!!! It's completely magical... hunky blue hottie with fangs! And I fell in love with Kate Beckinsale's leather suits... ^_^
Tigereyes9: At my school too they have codes and you have to be watched all the time... the 'computer lab guard' stopped me at least 43 times asking me if what I was doing (reviewing) was not some sort of chat device... -_- but hey! If you want to read stories, copy the text and read if off Microsoft word... it's what I do... I tell them I'm working on a very important research about human evolution... mweheheh.
Lily: Who stole the BOOK??? How could you loose all those chapters??? (*sobbs and runs away*)
justandalwaysMo: Your reviews always cheer me up ^_^ Thanks for encouraging me!
EvoJean: Thank U! And don't worry, I really don't want to stop this story! In fact, this is sort of the first X-Men story I created (in my head, that is), so I really want to put it onto paper. ^_^
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Chapter 5: Mistake of the mind's eye and an afternoon off
Walking down one of the New Yorkan streets, Alexander Crown, properly dressed up in a black suite with tie, briefcase in hand, looked like any other business man . . . except for his platinum hair.
He walked up to one of the buildings, to the one in front of which was a tall statue. The statue didn't really represent something, because it was modern art, but there was something interesting to see on the base. A large metal plate with gold writing spelling the name of the company: 'Crown Enterprises'. So the man was also a businessman.
Alexander walked to the door, nodding to a few people, as a porter in uniform held the door open for him. Inside like outside, the building was very clean and modern. It was a big building, and on the first floor, there were only sofas, staircases and elevators, and a very, very large desk behind which was sitting a woman, ready to help those who needed it.
Alexander walked to one of the elevators, passing a metal tag in a slot to open the door. Inside the elevator, he pressed the button of the last floor, and waited for the doors to open.
The floor on which he arrived was much nicer than down in the lobby: The floor was carpeted, the walls were plain white, and nothing were on them. On the other hand, there were gigantic admirably coloured canvas hanging from the extremely high ceiling, some of modern art, others looking like Monets or what you were supposed to see in the Sixtine chapel. The walls facing the exterior of the building were gigantic windows, from which we could see a great part of Manhattan. It was magnificent.
Alexander saluted other coworkers, walking down the aisle of desks where people were working until he reached the last desk behind which a woman of old age was sitting, picking up the phone and scribbling things down. She saw him coming and put her hand on the receiver, asking the person on the other end to hold on for just a second.
"Good afternoon, miss Faswell," Alexander said politely, walking towards a pair of large polished doors.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Crown, the papers on the Suburban project is on your desk and miss Skye told me to tell you that she was going to pass by in late afternoon," the lady said. "Should I free your schedule?"
"Yes please," he answered. "And tell Garcia I'm expecting him in my office in fifteen minutes."
"Yes, sir," she said, as he closed his door and she returned to her call.
~~~~~~~~~~
Magneto walked out of the building, followed by Mystique, Pyro and Hooligan, and the woman going by the name of Coral. He seemed very pleased about the conversation he had just had. Coral walked up to him, a smile on her face.
"And so, are we going to hear from you soon?" she asked.
"In a week or two," Erik answered. "When the Brotherhood will be complete."
"Then there are more joining?" Coral asked, as Magneto nodded in answer.
"Well . . . see ya soon," she said, turning around and transforming into a little girl as she walked back to the building.
"Now where do we go?" Mystique asked, catching up with her leader.
"The airport," he said, looking straight in front of him. "We'll take the car."
They walked pass the gates, to a black Mercedes, as Mystique transformed into a driver in uniform. Magneto sat in the passenger seat while the two other boys sat behind. Mystique drove, of course.
"So who are we going to go get?" Pyro asked, playing with his lighter. "When does the action start?"
"We are going to go get . . . a relative of mine," Magneto said calmly. "The 'action', as you say, is coming sooner than you think."
"Good," John said, leaning in his seat, giving Hooligan only a glance. The boy sitting next to him had a smirk on his face.
"Yep," he said. "The war is coming."
Magneto smiled in approval.
~~~~~~~~~~
Scott woke up, feeling a wet cloth on his forehead. He brought his hand to his face and checked that he had his visor on before opening his eyes. He saw a blue face staring down at him, and instinctively made a movement backwards.
"Relax Scott, this is Hank," he heard a familiar voice say.
Scott calmed down, as he recognized the blue man. He gave himself a memo to tell him never to stand above someone when they were waking up in the med lab because it was just freaky, and some might react badly by using their powers, like he was just about to.
"I'm sorry," Hank said to Scott. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Scott had a moment of silence, wondering what he was doing in the med lab. He soon remembered.
"JEAN!" he yelled, jumping to the ground but being held back by Hank's strong arms. "She's alive! She's alive! Let me go!"
"Scott, calm down please," the professor said, wheeling forwards.
"She's alive professor! She called!" Scott yelled desperately.
Charles Xavier sighed deeply, looking saddened.
"Hank, would you mind leaving us alone for a moment?" he said, grief dripping on each of his words.
The blue man muttered a 'yes professor' and walked out slowly, giving Scott an intrigued look before closing the door. There was a long silence.
"You don't believe me," Scott said, anger flashing in his visor. "Well then look in my mind, see that it's true."
"Scott . . ." the professor started. "I already did. What you heard was your imagination . . . I, like you, want Jean back, but you must get over it, Scott. She's dead."
Scott looked down at the floor, the professor's words having hit him harder than anything before.
"You must remember the proposition I gave you a few weeks ago, Scott," the professor said as the X-Men's fearless leader suddenly crumbled up in mercy. "And I think that it would be for the best that I'd erase your memory of her."
"No . . . please no," Scott whimpered.
"I think it would be for the best, but I won't do it without your authorization," the professor continued. "But I want you to start thinking of it seriously . . ."
Scott nodded and turned to the exit. He walked slowly to the door, sensing the professor's eyes on him. He opened the door and turned to him before walking out.
"She's alive," he murmured. "It wasn't my imagination . . . I don't believe it."
~~~~~~~~~~
Sitting at his desk, Alexander was tapping on a black portable computer, his back to the large windows of his luxurious office. Concentrating in his work, there were piles of papers and folders on both of his sides and pictures of art pieces laid out in front of him.
His phone rang feebly and he pressed on a button as miss Faswell's voice was heard.
"Miss Skye and miss Sinclair to see you, sir," she said in her usual calm voice.
"Send them in," Alexander said after pressing another button.
A few moments later, two women barged into the office, swinging the two polished doors open as they entered, and closing them as swiftly after having passed.
The first one was of medium height, had thick pale blond hair tied into a high ponytail, and it fell in her back like a cascade of snow on which the sun shone bright. She had rather pale fair skin, blue eyes and a large smile plastered on her cherry lips. She seemed to be in her late twenties, early thirties, was wearing a pair of blue jeans, high-heeled sandals and spaghetti-strapped white top. A vest was sloppily tied around her waist and a pair of black sunglasses was on top of her head. For jewellery, she had a couple of bracelets on one arm, a single gold chain, earrings and a gold wedding ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.
The second woman was taller than the first one, yet smaller than Alexander. She had straight black hair reaching the middle of her back, let loose and simply held back from her face by sunglasses. She had black eyes, a faint touch of mascara rendering them even more intriguing. Her skin was pale and she had blood red lipstick on. For ornaments she had simple earrings and a silver chain with a cross. Unlike the first woman, she was holding a purse under her arm. Form fitting pants and three quarter long sleeved v-necked top, matching with high-heeled sandals were what she was wearing, and since all of these articles of clothing were black, she looked more than a little like a classic gothic splendour.
The first woman waved energetically and hopped towards Alexander, looking extremely happy to see him again, but the second lady simply smiled. Alexander rose from his seat to receive the first lady in his arms.
"Hey, L?ka," he said, unable to stop smiling in front of her happiness.
The woman let go of him.
"Now you're inviting us to a middle of the afternoon bite," she said, incredibly sure of herself. "I need to talk to you about stuff, so tell miss Fatswell or Fartswell that you're gone for the rest of the afternoon."
Alexander sighed and turned to the other woman who had stayed a little in the back.
"Hi, Amber," he said, giving her a smile that she returned with a nod. "How are you doing?"
"Very well, and you?" Amber said, a little undefined accent rolling off her tongue.
"Fine, fine," he answered, seeing L?ka looking at his work. "Okay, so let's get out of here," he added, walking to the door followed by the two women.
Alexander told his secretary that he was taking the rest of the day off (again), and left with Amber and L?ka, who he seemed to know very well. They didn't need to take his car as they just decided to walk around talking and eat in an outdoor snack bar they liked, which was giving a beautiful view of Central Park. Sitting under a large umbrella, sipping fresh daiquiris, Amber and Alex only half listening to L?ka as she started talking about her trip to Canada, from which she had just come back. She was talking away about the beautiful nature and animals when suddenly, the conversation became rather more interesting.
"And so before the whole team arrived, I started inspecting the ruins of the base when suddenly, I walk through this sort of door and come face to face with . . . someone," L?ka said mysteriously, trying to captivate her audience by changing tone and gesturing a little. "I panicked, wondering if he was a hunter and that I should do best to transform into myself again in order not to get shot; or even worst, I thought he could maybe be one of those government guys, but I didn't move or attack, and thank God that I did because it was then I realized that he didn't have hostile intentions . . . The guy in front of me, - hot, if you ask me, Amber-, looked totally lost . . . I mean, not 'lost' but simply troubled or something, he just looked at me for a while and it was then it clicked, and I knew I had seen his face before. I was dieing to transform back into myself and ask him, but something held me back, and so I just walked away, and the second I was out of his sight, I ran away."
"Who did he look like?" Amber asked, moving her straw around in her glass.
"You're going to find this totally crazy, but I think he was the Wolverine," she said, stopping to take a sip from her drink.
"Impossible," Alex objected, leaning back in his seat.
"I too think it impossible for that man to still be alive," Amber noted.
"And I think you shouldn't go tell this story to anyone else," Alexander continued. "I mean, certainly not Foe. Everything's going so well, even on our jobs here."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Lïka said slowly. "But I really think it was him."
"I can't believe you're saying that when you've never even seen him before," Amber mocked.
"I recognized him from a picture I saw of him a long time ago," Lïka said defensively. "He wasn't the same but I did recognize him."
"But still, I repeat to you that it would be better if this stayed between us," Alexander continued seriously. "Foe and Lou shouldn't know. The same for the rest of the group. It wouldn't be good if they did."
"Yes, yes, I know," Lïka said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
They finished their drinks, said good bye and headed their separate ways, knowing that they were going to see each other soon enough, reunited by of their unfinished business.
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You know the drill . . . you read, you review, you read some more you review again, you read some more again and are too sick of reviewing but still do it because poor little ol' author has nothin' better to do than see what people think of her writing. And unfortunately that wasn't sarcastic, you know. -_-
You all HAVE to go see the movie 'Underworld'. You HAVE TO! Besides the fact that it is now V.I.M. (very important movie) list, at the end, the cute guy (who becomes a werewolf) looks TOTALLY like Nightcrawler AND Wolvie combined together . . . 0_0 without a shirt!!! It's completely magical... hunky blue hottie with fangs! And I fell in love with Kate Beckinsale's leather suits... ^_^
Tigereyes9: At my school too they have codes and you have to be watched all the time... the 'computer lab guard' stopped me at least 43 times asking me if what I was doing (reviewing) was not some sort of chat device... -_- but hey! If you want to read stories, copy the text and read if off Microsoft word... it's what I do... I tell them I'm working on a very important research about human evolution... mweheheh.
Lily: Who stole the BOOK??? How could you loose all those chapters??? (*sobbs and runs away*)
justandalwaysMo: Your reviews always cheer me up ^_^ Thanks for encouraging me!
EvoJean: Thank U! And don't worry, I really don't want to stop this story! In fact, this is sort of the first X-Men story I created (in my head, that is), so I really want to put it onto paper. ^_^
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Chapter 5: Mistake of the mind's eye and an afternoon off
Walking down one of the New Yorkan streets, Alexander Crown, properly dressed up in a black suite with tie, briefcase in hand, looked like any other business man . . . except for his platinum hair.
He walked up to one of the buildings, to the one in front of which was a tall statue. The statue didn't really represent something, because it was modern art, but there was something interesting to see on the base. A large metal plate with gold writing spelling the name of the company: 'Crown Enterprises'. So the man was also a businessman.
Alexander walked to the door, nodding to a few people, as a porter in uniform held the door open for him. Inside like outside, the building was very clean and modern. It was a big building, and on the first floor, there were only sofas, staircases and elevators, and a very, very large desk behind which was sitting a woman, ready to help those who needed it.
Alexander walked to one of the elevators, passing a metal tag in a slot to open the door. Inside the elevator, he pressed the button of the last floor, and waited for the doors to open.
The floor on which he arrived was much nicer than down in the lobby: The floor was carpeted, the walls were plain white, and nothing were on them. On the other hand, there were gigantic admirably coloured canvas hanging from the extremely high ceiling, some of modern art, others looking like Monets or what you were supposed to see in the Sixtine chapel. The walls facing the exterior of the building were gigantic windows, from which we could see a great part of Manhattan. It was magnificent.
Alexander saluted other coworkers, walking down the aisle of desks where people were working until he reached the last desk behind which a woman of old age was sitting, picking up the phone and scribbling things down. She saw him coming and put her hand on the receiver, asking the person on the other end to hold on for just a second.
"Good afternoon, miss Faswell," Alexander said politely, walking towards a pair of large polished doors.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Crown, the papers on the Suburban project is on your desk and miss Skye told me to tell you that she was going to pass by in late afternoon," the lady said. "Should I free your schedule?"
"Yes please," he answered. "And tell Garcia I'm expecting him in my office in fifteen minutes."
"Yes, sir," she said, as he closed his door and she returned to her call.
~~~~~~~~~~
Magneto walked out of the building, followed by Mystique, Pyro and Hooligan, and the woman going by the name of Coral. He seemed very pleased about the conversation he had just had. Coral walked up to him, a smile on her face.
"And so, are we going to hear from you soon?" she asked.
"In a week or two," Erik answered. "When the Brotherhood will be complete."
"Then there are more joining?" Coral asked, as Magneto nodded in answer.
"Well . . . see ya soon," she said, turning around and transforming into a little girl as she walked back to the building.
"Now where do we go?" Mystique asked, catching up with her leader.
"The airport," he said, looking straight in front of him. "We'll take the car."
They walked pass the gates, to a black Mercedes, as Mystique transformed into a driver in uniform. Magneto sat in the passenger seat while the two other boys sat behind. Mystique drove, of course.
"So who are we going to go get?" Pyro asked, playing with his lighter. "When does the action start?"
"We are going to go get . . . a relative of mine," Magneto said calmly. "The 'action', as you say, is coming sooner than you think."
"Good," John said, leaning in his seat, giving Hooligan only a glance. The boy sitting next to him had a smirk on his face.
"Yep," he said. "The war is coming."
Magneto smiled in approval.
~~~~~~~~~~
Scott woke up, feeling a wet cloth on his forehead. He brought his hand to his face and checked that he had his visor on before opening his eyes. He saw a blue face staring down at him, and instinctively made a movement backwards.
"Relax Scott, this is Hank," he heard a familiar voice say.
Scott calmed down, as he recognized the blue man. He gave himself a memo to tell him never to stand above someone when they were waking up in the med lab because it was just freaky, and some might react badly by using their powers, like he was just about to.
"I'm sorry," Hank said to Scott. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Scott had a moment of silence, wondering what he was doing in the med lab. He soon remembered.
"JEAN!" he yelled, jumping to the ground but being held back by Hank's strong arms. "She's alive! She's alive! Let me go!"
"Scott, calm down please," the professor said, wheeling forwards.
"She's alive professor! She called!" Scott yelled desperately.
Charles Xavier sighed deeply, looking saddened.
"Hank, would you mind leaving us alone for a moment?" he said, grief dripping on each of his words.
The blue man muttered a 'yes professor' and walked out slowly, giving Scott an intrigued look before closing the door. There was a long silence.
"You don't believe me," Scott said, anger flashing in his visor. "Well then look in my mind, see that it's true."
"Scott . . ." the professor started. "I already did. What you heard was your imagination . . . I, like you, want Jean back, but you must get over it, Scott. She's dead."
Scott looked down at the floor, the professor's words having hit him harder than anything before.
"You must remember the proposition I gave you a few weeks ago, Scott," the professor said as the X-Men's fearless leader suddenly crumbled up in mercy. "And I think that it would be for the best that I'd erase your memory of her."
"No . . . please no," Scott whimpered.
"I think it would be for the best, but I won't do it without your authorization," the professor continued. "But I want you to start thinking of it seriously . . ."
Scott nodded and turned to the exit. He walked slowly to the door, sensing the professor's eyes on him. He opened the door and turned to him before walking out.
"She's alive," he murmured. "It wasn't my imagination . . . I don't believe it."
~~~~~~~~~~
Sitting at his desk, Alexander was tapping on a black portable computer, his back to the large windows of his luxurious office. Concentrating in his work, there were piles of papers and folders on both of his sides and pictures of art pieces laid out in front of him.
His phone rang feebly and he pressed on a button as miss Faswell's voice was heard.
"Miss Skye and miss Sinclair to see you, sir," she said in her usual calm voice.
"Send them in," Alexander said after pressing another button.
A few moments later, two women barged into the office, swinging the two polished doors open as they entered, and closing them as swiftly after having passed.
The first one was of medium height, had thick pale blond hair tied into a high ponytail, and it fell in her back like a cascade of snow on which the sun shone bright. She had rather pale fair skin, blue eyes and a large smile plastered on her cherry lips. She seemed to be in her late twenties, early thirties, was wearing a pair of blue jeans, high-heeled sandals and spaghetti-strapped white top. A vest was sloppily tied around her waist and a pair of black sunglasses was on top of her head. For jewellery, she had a couple of bracelets on one arm, a single gold chain, earrings and a gold wedding ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.
The second woman was taller than the first one, yet smaller than Alexander. She had straight black hair reaching the middle of her back, let loose and simply held back from her face by sunglasses. She had black eyes, a faint touch of mascara rendering them even more intriguing. Her skin was pale and she had blood red lipstick on. For ornaments she had simple earrings and a silver chain with a cross. Unlike the first woman, she was holding a purse under her arm. Form fitting pants and three quarter long sleeved v-necked top, matching with high-heeled sandals were what she was wearing, and since all of these articles of clothing were black, she looked more than a little like a classic gothic splendour.
The first woman waved energetically and hopped towards Alexander, looking extremely happy to see him again, but the second lady simply smiled. Alexander rose from his seat to receive the first lady in his arms.
"Hey, L?ka," he said, unable to stop smiling in front of her happiness.
The woman let go of him.
"Now you're inviting us to a middle of the afternoon bite," she said, incredibly sure of herself. "I need to talk to you about stuff, so tell miss Fatswell or Fartswell that you're gone for the rest of the afternoon."
Alexander sighed and turned to the other woman who had stayed a little in the back.
"Hi, Amber," he said, giving her a smile that she returned with a nod. "How are you doing?"
"Very well, and you?" Amber said, a little undefined accent rolling off her tongue.
"Fine, fine," he answered, seeing L?ka looking at his work. "Okay, so let's get out of here," he added, walking to the door followed by the two women.
Alexander told his secretary that he was taking the rest of the day off (again), and left with Amber and L?ka, who he seemed to know very well. They didn't need to take his car as they just decided to walk around talking and eat in an outdoor snack bar they liked, which was giving a beautiful view of Central Park. Sitting under a large umbrella, sipping fresh daiquiris, Amber and Alex only half listening to L?ka as she started talking about her trip to Canada, from which she had just come back. She was talking away about the beautiful nature and animals when suddenly, the conversation became rather more interesting.
"And so before the whole team arrived, I started inspecting the ruins of the base when suddenly, I walk through this sort of door and come face to face with . . . someone," L?ka said mysteriously, trying to captivate her audience by changing tone and gesturing a little. "I panicked, wondering if he was a hunter and that I should do best to transform into myself again in order not to get shot; or even worst, I thought he could maybe be one of those government guys, but I didn't move or attack, and thank God that I did because it was then I realized that he didn't have hostile intentions . . . The guy in front of me, - hot, if you ask me, Amber-, looked totally lost . . . I mean, not 'lost' but simply troubled or something, he just looked at me for a while and it was then it clicked, and I knew I had seen his face before. I was dieing to transform back into myself and ask him, but something held me back, and so I just walked away, and the second I was out of his sight, I ran away."
"Who did he look like?" Amber asked, moving her straw around in her glass.
"You're going to find this totally crazy, but I think he was the Wolverine," she said, stopping to take a sip from her drink.
"Impossible," Alex objected, leaning back in his seat.
"I too think it impossible for that man to still be alive," Amber noted.
"And I think you shouldn't go tell this story to anyone else," Alexander continued. "I mean, certainly not Foe. Everything's going so well, even on our jobs here."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Lïka said slowly. "But I really think it was him."
"I can't believe you're saying that when you've never even seen him before," Amber mocked.
"I recognized him from a picture I saw of him a long time ago," Lïka said defensively. "He wasn't the same but I did recognize him."
"But still, I repeat to you that it would be better if this stayed between us," Alexander continued seriously. "Foe and Lou shouldn't know. The same for the rest of the group. It wouldn't be good if they did."
"Yes, yes, I know," Lïka said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
They finished their drinks, said good bye and headed their separate ways, knowing that they were going to see each other soon enough, reunited by of their unfinished business.
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You know the drill . . . you read, you review, you read some more you review again, you read some more again and are too sick of reviewing but still do it because poor little ol' author has nothin' better to do than see what people think of her writing. And unfortunately that wasn't sarcastic, you know. -_-