DISCLAIMER: I have not, do not, and will not ever own the x-men. I do own
my OC, though, so no dibs. Thanx.
Sphinx489~ I've redone the first coupla chapters, so they should be better than they were before, I hope. Didn't change too much, those of you who actually read my stuff. Hope it's more enjoyable now! R&R, s'il vous plait!
~"If you hate something thoroughly without knowing why, you can be sure there is something of it in your own nature." ~Friedrich Hebbel
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dirty mutant! Get the hell out of my store before I call the cops! If I ever see you again, I'll fucking kill you!" the grocery store manager shouted at me. I remember his name, too - George - it said it on his nametag. I've never quite understood why people hate me so much. Why are they afraid of mutants?
I snapped out of my shock abruptly when the clerk shoved me away from the busted jugs of water scattered across the white tile floor. Under other circumstances, I think the flooded foods would have been funny, but at that moment in time, they could've only gotten me in more trouble. Tripping over my own feet, I sprawled across the pavement outside the convenience store, a small crowd having already begun to gather - on the opposite side of the street, of course. You know, might catch the big, bad mutant disease.
My cheeks burned as I stumbled into the alleyway next to the supermarket. Reminding me of my immense hunger, street lamps switched on, burning brightly as they signaled the end of another day. It had been two since I'd had more than a bite to eat. I was starving.
It's not like I'd done anything hugely wrong back there. There really wasn't a need for the asshole to blow up like that. Granted, I was in his store to steal shit to begin with, but he hadn't known and I hadn't actually taken anything. Normally my freaky powers aren't too hazardous, but that time, I'd been eyeing a little kid sitting in a cart holding a lollipop. That kid was so taunting me with it. What! Well, my jealousy just boiled over.
That's usually when something happens - when my emotions go into overdrive. Anyway, the next thing I knew, huge five gallon jugs of water were exploding everywhere, spilling their contents over the surrounding area. I guess since I'd been standing by them, that kind of qualified me for the blame.
At least that wasn't as bad as the accident with the water tower in my hometown, though. Yeah, that's why I'm basically starving to death here - I'm a fugitive. What am I supposed to do when I make a water tower rupture at its seams and flood the entire community? So, a few bus rides later, I found myself here, in downtown Chicago, the Magnificent Mile, the Windy City, the. all right I think you get the point. And that brings you up to the current moment in time.
Crash! I jolt out of my reverie and quickly move to hug the brick wall of a building as a trash can rolls by. Shortly after comes a scrawny black cat. Oh joy, just what I need. more bad luck.
Something tells me that the small little feline wasn't the cause of the sudden noise. Peering out of my shadow, I am soon rewarded - if you can call it that. Halfway down the alley, about seventy five feet from me, are two dark shadows, conversing in lowered tones.
"De prof said she'd be close by," the taller, more man-like figure says. For a short instant, I find myself charmed by his 'similar to mine' French accent. It has a slightly different lilt to it, though, as if something else were mixed in with it, so I figure he's probably Cajun by the rough pronunciation of his words.
"She is - perhaps in this very alley," a deep, rich female voice says. By the intonation I can tell the woman is black. Stifling a gasp, I realize they're discussing me. Moving in slow motion, glancing around, they proceed in my general direction. Screaming, I bolt out of my lair.
"Dere she is!"
Glimpsing over my shoulder as I sprint, I can see the tall man break into a run, chasing me. What truly shocks me, however, is that the black woman rises into the air to pursue by flight, cape billowing in the wind as her white hair splays out in all directions like lightning.
"Calm yourself, child," she says, voice resonating off of walls and various objects. "We're not going to hurt you!" Funny how people always say that sort of thing when they are intending to harm you. I sprint faster, spying the Cajun gaining on me.
"No!" I scream at them. "Go away!" I gasp in air as my lungs find themselves unable to cope with the lack of oxygen.
Water. need. water.
"We're here to help you!" the man shouts. I struggle to run faster, every step hard earned and with great cost to me. Fighting, I manage to gain some ground, at least, until I trip over the curb, bending my ankle at such an angle that its agonizing protest snaps, crackles, and pops. Taking full advantage, he overtakes me in a matter of seconds.
Before I can even rise, he pins me to the concrete, banging my head slightly before he can cushion it with his hand. Wincing, I take note of how good he smells. Hey, I'm only female.
Groaning, I slowly open my eyes, allowing them a seductive flutter. I find myself staring into a pair of red and black demonic eyes. Naturally, though, I'm not any more surprised at that sight than he at my swirling cerulean and violet ones. God, he has a gorgeous face. And a lithe body, too, from what I can tell. I can feel my cheeks begin to burn as the blood slowly caresses its way up my neck all the way to the tips of my ears.
"You gonna run, petite?" he drawls whisperingly, letting the words roll charmingly off his tongue.
"Unh." I reply.
"Bien." The slim, airborne woman lands beside us, causing me to have to twist my neck ungracefully in order to get a good look at her.
"Gambit. Get off her," she says. I'm not sure whether I agree with her or not, but he sheepishly slips away as if he were silk. I suck in a quick, pleasurable breath and twist my body convulsively on the earth as I ensure all body parts are intact, including my ankle. The pain has now rescinded to a dull throbbing.
She watches him for a short instant before turning to regard me. "As we said, we want to help you - to extend an invitation to you to come and live with us. And learn how to control your escalating powers." I roll into a crouching position, glaring at the weird weather witch.
"À mon avis, vous êtes des gens bêtes," I spit at her in my native language so she might not understand. "Ici essair capturer moi."
"Hey!" the Cajun, Gambit it seems, steps in front of the woman. "It'd be a good idea not to piss us off when we're offerin' t'help you. I mean, after all, we already have 'captured' you." Gulping, I swallow a huge glob of spit.
"Sorry," I whisper in a nearly inaudible voice, opting for English this time. Obviously not quite catching what has just transpired, the woman speaks up.
"Anyway," she says, giving a meaningful look to both of us. "We're both mutants - like you - and want to offer you a place to stay. Would you like to join us? Just to try it? You can always leave." Judging by her tone and the uneasiness that quickly passes over Gambit's countenance, something tells me her final sentence is up for debate, but I keep my feeling to myself.
"Sure. What the hell?" I reply. "What've I got to lose?" Please. Don't answer that.
"Good. Follow." And that was that.
She swivels on her heels, silver cape swirling around her slender ankles as she does so, to lead the way. "By the way, my name's Ororo Munroe. This is Remy Lebeau." She gestures towards Gambit as he falls into step beside me. I limp somewhat imperceptibly.
"You hurt, chère?" he whispers in my ear. "Mind if I nurse you back t'health?" He says the latter with a sly, lopsided grin at me. Uh, oh. knees melting. I begin to crumple to the ground in fatigue. Strangely, though, I have the sudden feeling of weightlessness, as if I'm flying - not on my own accord.
"Ahh!" I shriek, looking down to witness terra firma retreating from sight, into the darkness.
"Chill, mon amie," he says. "Storm's just tryin' t'help you out a bit. And get us t'our ride faster." I gaze into his eyes and then at the massive black jet looming into view. "Dis be de Blackbird." He beckons toward the stealth craft as we land neatly on the ramp leading to its inner bowls. "Dis way."
Swallowing deeply again, still trying to regain the moisture I had lost in my exertion, I follow the two mutants inside, where they articulate which flight seat I am to sit in. The huge monster comes alive, engines humming lightly in the background. I fasten my seatbelt tightly as my anxiety increases steadily. My heart is now throbbing in my throat and I squeeze my lids shut repeatedly, reopening them with liquid nearly overflowing. I can feel the needle pricks of fear in the corners of my eyes as they attempt to refocus.
A bald headed man pivots in a chair in front of me, wheeling himself back to me in what turns out to be a (duh) wheelchair, stopping only a few inches away.
"Hello, Chantal," he says. I jump at his unexpected knowledge of my name. "Yes, I know who you are - and I'm a mutant as well. A telepath as it seems. Don't worry, I won't read your innermost thoughts without your permission. Unless, of course, it's absolutely necessary." His dark eyes pierce me with his final statement.
"How comforting." I smirk.
"It should be," he replies, unphased. "My name is Professor Charles Xavier. We're headed to my school - the Xavier School for the Gifted. There, you will be taught how to control your brewing capabilities and enhance the ones you have. Also, you will discover exactly what and everything you can do using them."
"Cool enough."
"I should hope so. Since you've already met Remy, he will escort you to your new room when we arrive. You'll be going shopping for belongings later on. I assume you have none at present?" He raises an inquisitive eyebrow at me, hinting that he can easily find out for himself if he didn't already know. I nod. "One more thing. Our school is undergoing construction for new dormitories. You will have your own room, not to worry, but there's only one left currently and it's in the boys' hall. At the very end, though, so you won't be extremely out of place." He rolls to the front of the cabin, next to Ms. Monroe, at the controls. Seeing him pass, Remy gets up and strides back to sit by me.
"D'accord?"
"Ouais."
"C'est bien," he exhales, relief settling upon him as he relaxes into the comfortable seats. I can't help but smile as he closes his eyes tiredly. A few moments later, I follow suit, my head unpredictably sliding on the headrest as I drift out of consciousness.
Sphinx489~ I've redone the first coupla chapters, so they should be better than they were before, I hope. Didn't change too much, those of you who actually read my stuff. Hope it's more enjoyable now! R&R, s'il vous plait!
~"If you hate something thoroughly without knowing why, you can be sure there is something of it in your own nature." ~Friedrich Hebbel
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dirty mutant! Get the hell out of my store before I call the cops! If I ever see you again, I'll fucking kill you!" the grocery store manager shouted at me. I remember his name, too - George - it said it on his nametag. I've never quite understood why people hate me so much. Why are they afraid of mutants?
I snapped out of my shock abruptly when the clerk shoved me away from the busted jugs of water scattered across the white tile floor. Under other circumstances, I think the flooded foods would have been funny, but at that moment in time, they could've only gotten me in more trouble. Tripping over my own feet, I sprawled across the pavement outside the convenience store, a small crowd having already begun to gather - on the opposite side of the street, of course. You know, might catch the big, bad mutant disease.
My cheeks burned as I stumbled into the alleyway next to the supermarket. Reminding me of my immense hunger, street lamps switched on, burning brightly as they signaled the end of another day. It had been two since I'd had more than a bite to eat. I was starving.
It's not like I'd done anything hugely wrong back there. There really wasn't a need for the asshole to blow up like that. Granted, I was in his store to steal shit to begin with, but he hadn't known and I hadn't actually taken anything. Normally my freaky powers aren't too hazardous, but that time, I'd been eyeing a little kid sitting in a cart holding a lollipop. That kid was so taunting me with it. What! Well, my jealousy just boiled over.
That's usually when something happens - when my emotions go into overdrive. Anyway, the next thing I knew, huge five gallon jugs of water were exploding everywhere, spilling their contents over the surrounding area. I guess since I'd been standing by them, that kind of qualified me for the blame.
At least that wasn't as bad as the accident with the water tower in my hometown, though. Yeah, that's why I'm basically starving to death here - I'm a fugitive. What am I supposed to do when I make a water tower rupture at its seams and flood the entire community? So, a few bus rides later, I found myself here, in downtown Chicago, the Magnificent Mile, the Windy City, the. all right I think you get the point. And that brings you up to the current moment in time.
Crash! I jolt out of my reverie and quickly move to hug the brick wall of a building as a trash can rolls by. Shortly after comes a scrawny black cat. Oh joy, just what I need. more bad luck.
Something tells me that the small little feline wasn't the cause of the sudden noise. Peering out of my shadow, I am soon rewarded - if you can call it that. Halfway down the alley, about seventy five feet from me, are two dark shadows, conversing in lowered tones.
"De prof said she'd be close by," the taller, more man-like figure says. For a short instant, I find myself charmed by his 'similar to mine' French accent. It has a slightly different lilt to it, though, as if something else were mixed in with it, so I figure he's probably Cajun by the rough pronunciation of his words.
"She is - perhaps in this very alley," a deep, rich female voice says. By the intonation I can tell the woman is black. Stifling a gasp, I realize they're discussing me. Moving in slow motion, glancing around, they proceed in my general direction. Screaming, I bolt out of my lair.
"Dere she is!"
Glimpsing over my shoulder as I sprint, I can see the tall man break into a run, chasing me. What truly shocks me, however, is that the black woman rises into the air to pursue by flight, cape billowing in the wind as her white hair splays out in all directions like lightning.
"Calm yourself, child," she says, voice resonating off of walls and various objects. "We're not going to hurt you!" Funny how people always say that sort of thing when they are intending to harm you. I sprint faster, spying the Cajun gaining on me.
"No!" I scream at them. "Go away!" I gasp in air as my lungs find themselves unable to cope with the lack of oxygen.
Water. need. water.
"We're here to help you!" the man shouts. I struggle to run faster, every step hard earned and with great cost to me. Fighting, I manage to gain some ground, at least, until I trip over the curb, bending my ankle at such an angle that its agonizing protest snaps, crackles, and pops. Taking full advantage, he overtakes me in a matter of seconds.
Before I can even rise, he pins me to the concrete, banging my head slightly before he can cushion it with his hand. Wincing, I take note of how good he smells. Hey, I'm only female.
Groaning, I slowly open my eyes, allowing them a seductive flutter. I find myself staring into a pair of red and black demonic eyes. Naturally, though, I'm not any more surprised at that sight than he at my swirling cerulean and violet ones. God, he has a gorgeous face. And a lithe body, too, from what I can tell. I can feel my cheeks begin to burn as the blood slowly caresses its way up my neck all the way to the tips of my ears.
"You gonna run, petite?" he drawls whisperingly, letting the words roll charmingly off his tongue.
"Unh." I reply.
"Bien." The slim, airborne woman lands beside us, causing me to have to twist my neck ungracefully in order to get a good look at her.
"Gambit. Get off her," she says. I'm not sure whether I agree with her or not, but he sheepishly slips away as if he were silk. I suck in a quick, pleasurable breath and twist my body convulsively on the earth as I ensure all body parts are intact, including my ankle. The pain has now rescinded to a dull throbbing.
She watches him for a short instant before turning to regard me. "As we said, we want to help you - to extend an invitation to you to come and live with us. And learn how to control your escalating powers." I roll into a crouching position, glaring at the weird weather witch.
"À mon avis, vous êtes des gens bêtes," I spit at her in my native language so she might not understand. "Ici essair capturer moi."
"Hey!" the Cajun, Gambit it seems, steps in front of the woman. "It'd be a good idea not to piss us off when we're offerin' t'help you. I mean, after all, we already have 'captured' you." Gulping, I swallow a huge glob of spit.
"Sorry," I whisper in a nearly inaudible voice, opting for English this time. Obviously not quite catching what has just transpired, the woman speaks up.
"Anyway," she says, giving a meaningful look to both of us. "We're both mutants - like you - and want to offer you a place to stay. Would you like to join us? Just to try it? You can always leave." Judging by her tone and the uneasiness that quickly passes over Gambit's countenance, something tells me her final sentence is up for debate, but I keep my feeling to myself.
"Sure. What the hell?" I reply. "What've I got to lose?" Please. Don't answer that.
"Good. Follow." And that was that.
She swivels on her heels, silver cape swirling around her slender ankles as she does so, to lead the way. "By the way, my name's Ororo Munroe. This is Remy Lebeau." She gestures towards Gambit as he falls into step beside me. I limp somewhat imperceptibly.
"You hurt, chère?" he whispers in my ear. "Mind if I nurse you back t'health?" He says the latter with a sly, lopsided grin at me. Uh, oh. knees melting. I begin to crumple to the ground in fatigue. Strangely, though, I have the sudden feeling of weightlessness, as if I'm flying - not on my own accord.
"Ahh!" I shriek, looking down to witness terra firma retreating from sight, into the darkness.
"Chill, mon amie," he says. "Storm's just tryin' t'help you out a bit. And get us t'our ride faster." I gaze into his eyes and then at the massive black jet looming into view. "Dis be de Blackbird." He beckons toward the stealth craft as we land neatly on the ramp leading to its inner bowls. "Dis way."
Swallowing deeply again, still trying to regain the moisture I had lost in my exertion, I follow the two mutants inside, where they articulate which flight seat I am to sit in. The huge monster comes alive, engines humming lightly in the background. I fasten my seatbelt tightly as my anxiety increases steadily. My heart is now throbbing in my throat and I squeeze my lids shut repeatedly, reopening them with liquid nearly overflowing. I can feel the needle pricks of fear in the corners of my eyes as they attempt to refocus.
A bald headed man pivots in a chair in front of me, wheeling himself back to me in what turns out to be a (duh) wheelchair, stopping only a few inches away.
"Hello, Chantal," he says. I jump at his unexpected knowledge of my name. "Yes, I know who you are - and I'm a mutant as well. A telepath as it seems. Don't worry, I won't read your innermost thoughts without your permission. Unless, of course, it's absolutely necessary." His dark eyes pierce me with his final statement.
"How comforting." I smirk.
"It should be," he replies, unphased. "My name is Professor Charles Xavier. We're headed to my school - the Xavier School for the Gifted. There, you will be taught how to control your brewing capabilities and enhance the ones you have. Also, you will discover exactly what and everything you can do using them."
"Cool enough."
"I should hope so. Since you've already met Remy, he will escort you to your new room when we arrive. You'll be going shopping for belongings later on. I assume you have none at present?" He raises an inquisitive eyebrow at me, hinting that he can easily find out for himself if he didn't already know. I nod. "One more thing. Our school is undergoing construction for new dormitories. You will have your own room, not to worry, but there's only one left currently and it's in the boys' hall. At the very end, though, so you won't be extremely out of place." He rolls to the front of the cabin, next to Ms. Monroe, at the controls. Seeing him pass, Remy gets up and strides back to sit by me.
"D'accord?"
"Ouais."
"C'est bien," he exhales, relief settling upon him as he relaxes into the comfortable seats. I can't help but smile as he closes his eyes tiredly. A few moments later, I follow suit, my head unpredictably sliding on the headrest as I drift out of consciousness.