DISCLAIMER: Yatta, yatta, yatta. I think you know by now, so.
Sphinx489~ yay! Another chap fixed! Enjoy! R&R!
~"Love does not only transform our mental/emotional nature, it also involves the physical system of our body which goes through profound changes as well." ~David McArthur
~~~~~~~~~~
So it's not as big as Marshall Fields in Chicago, but it's certainly not too shabby. After a short, but exhilaratingly fast ride in a well air- conditioned car with 'modern' music blaring, I find myself staring up into the huge glass eyes of THE mall. Of course, I only get a few short seconds to slobber all over myself before Monet willfully pulls me inside. That's where Warren almost escapes. Almost.
"Where do you think you're getting off to?" Monet questions, adding too much sugar to her sour inflection. Warren develops an 'I think I'm gonna be sick' puppy look.
"Uh... to the music store to. uh. oh all right, I'll come with you guys."
Monet grins at her triumph. Is it just me or does she try way too hard? But, at least she's pretending to be my friend right now.
"Oof," I spit out as I'm shoved into a lingerie store.
"Basics, first." Did I mention that she's getting really annoying though?
What seems like ages later, we emerge from the multicolored abyss of panties, thongs, bras, and other things no woman should be forced to wear - yet seem to willingly anyway. At this point, I feel worse for poor Warren than myself. He's the one stuck lugging our five stuffed-to-the-brim bags as we proceed onward to a linen store.
"Um. Monet." I venture.
"Yeah?"
"I'd kinda like to hunt around by myself for awhile if you don't mind." She turns to regard me.
"No prob. I need to find some candles and stuff for my room. Have fun." Without any more conversation, we split apart. Warren stands by himself for a moment, looking almost comical with the Victoria's Secret bags stuck on every available limb. Then, he walks over to me.
"There's no way I'm sticking with her for another hour." I grin, leading him to another humorous encounter as I search for the 'perfect' paint, bedspread, curtains, etc. Naturally, I don't take as long as Monet does - I only get caught up once when I can't decide between the white tiger, snow leopard, or regular leopard print theme. Warren stands patiently through all this turmoil, though a slight blush floods his features as he no doubt creates dirty images in his mind. In the end, I decide on the regular leopard print. That's when he has to make an emergency trip back to the car.
"He'll be back." For the first time, Monet and I actually click as friends as we pile our arms full of clothes to try on, leaving each store in just enough time for our mutant slave to find us and carry our purchases out to the vehicle. It nearly feels as if I am back at home, having a perfectly normal, average day out with friends. The only difference being that I'm nowhere near home and I have a more interesting past now. It's almost six o'clock when we finally collapse on the leather seats of the hotrod. Granted we probably aren't as tired as Warren is, but still. Taking one's clothes on and off repeatedly can really wear one out.
"Wow, eight whole hours shopping - has to be my new record. I think I'll wait until tomorrow to sort my things out," Monet says. "I'll help you put everything away tonight, though, before I go to bed. If we work hard, we should be done by. next month!" We break into hysterical laughter as our servant slams the trunk closed and climbs into the car. We drive back to the mansion in exhausted silence. Of course, when we hear that dinner is being served, we cheer up. Unfortunately for Warren, forgetting we have stuff to take up to our rooms and practically racing each other for food. Being the nice person he is, he did put everything in my room without complaining. How sweet. He'll probably never want to go shopping with us again.
Monet drags me (Hmm. do I see a pattern beginning to form?) over to her table, where plates of healthy (ugh) food are already placed around the table. There are only two seats left - apparently, one for me and one for her. I immediately begin shoveling food into my mouth, barely managing to appear appropriate in front of everyone. What can I say? Aside from the Mountain Dew and Jones I'd drunk at the mall, I haven't had anything with food substance in it for nearly three days, now.
"Hey! Slow down, sugar!" A honey thick accent drawls. I glance up. "You look like a ravenous wolf - life you haven't eaten in days!"
"I haven't." I resume.
"Monet!" Good. The strange southern girl with white streak in her hair has decided to pick on someone else. "You haven't introduced any of us." Oh, merde. I loathe introductions.
"Oh! Sorry, guys. Okay. This is Chantal LaJolie, codenamed." she stops mid-sentence, peering at me. I unhappily oblige her with one.
"Sirène."
"Sirène," she repeats, then continues. "Chantal, this is Marie D'ancanto - Rogue," she indicates the girl who told me I look like an animal. Grrr. "Bobby Drake - Iceman, Piotr Rasputin - Colossus." she pauses to catch her breath.
"My name's Paige Guthrie," yet another southern girl says, taking the cue. "Codename's Husk. My brother, Sam goes here too - he's a senior; too good to sit with us. And this is Remy -"
"We've already met," I interject. He smirks briefly. The occupants of the table exchange glances with each other.
"And I'm Pyro," I turn to view the last person seated at the opposite end from me. He's playing with a lighter, flicking the lid repetitively. Click, Clack. Click, Clack.
"I can see that." The group laughs lightly, nervously.
"John Allerdyce, nice to meet ya." He leans across the table to shake my hand. Why does everyone keep doing that!?! Good thing I only have to go through introductions once 'cause I think I'd lose a couple screws going through this again.
After a few seconds, I have to pull my hand from his grasp. Bobby and Paige chuckle. I glance at them, wondering if I was missing something - an inside joke, maybe. I catch Remy's eye. He doesn't look too happy. Ahh. he wants me first. I think. Sometimes that can be dangerous, though, so I'll stop.
Sooner than I imagine, dinner is over and everyone head out to the patio. Luckily, Monet comes over to me before we get pushed out through the crowded doors.
"Come on. We need to put your things away so we can have some fun tomorrow." Yes! I don't have to pretend to be sociable! So far. Something about her voice tells me I won't be staying that way for long. The torture is yet to come.
"What's tomorrow?" I ask, curious. I haven't looked at a calendar lately, maybe it's some special holiday.
"Saturday!" she cries, digging through the sacks on my floor, throwing clothes at me while she pulls out the linen stuff and the purple cans. "Let's paint!" Joy. I grab a roller and slop it onto the walls, using my 'power' to dry it. That's about the only thing I can see it being useful for - that and drying off out of the shower. Other than that it's simply a curse.
By the time we finish carefully placing everything it's after midnight. We both yawn, mine more of a show than hers. I'm used to late nights like this. Not to mention, now that I have food in my stomach, I am content to loll until the early dawn. I drink another glass of water. I've been drinking them all night and she gives me a curious look.
"I'm going to bed - I'm absolutely zonked!" We both giggle at the word. "Chantal. why do you keep drinking all that water?"
"It keeps me from feeling tired," I say, not willing to elaborate. "Gotta have the recommended eight glasses of water a day." I smile, wryly, knowing full well that unless I keep my percent body water constant, I'll get sick and maybe even die.
"Oh. Well. 'Night." I stare at my feet as she passes by and walks out into the hallway.
"Bonne nuit." Once she's left, I become more inquisitive about my new environment. Having refilled my stomach capacity and drank enough water to fill a pool, I decide to explore.
Cautiously opening my door, I creep out when I see no one around. I sniff the air. Mmm. smoke. Yes, I have a problem. More than one actually. I just don't choose to acknowledge all of them until they punch me in the face. Anyway, I follow the scent. Hey, that kind of makes me sound like a wolf after all. I climb up a flight of stairs into what I guess is the 'instructors' quarters. Treading even lighter, I come up to a closed door, preparing to phase through it to get to the source - my treat to be.
Did I mention I can phase through things? No, I don't think I did. Oops. Well, I did now. Everything on earth has water in it, and that's pretty much what I'm made of - all water. So, I just collect a greater density of it where I need it most and pass through it. Pretty nifty, huh? Too bad it doesn't work on metal. I wonder if there's anything else I can do with this unique talent.
Just as I am about to enter, a hand clasps my shoulder. My heart wrenches and it takes all of my willpower not to howl at the top of my lungs in fear. Something I need to work on since a tiny squeal emerges from my pursed lips anyway.
"What you doin', chère?"
I breathe a sigh of relief when I recognize the voice. "Rien, Remy. Nothing." I turn around and hook my arm into his. "Let's go for a walk." He studies me closely for a few agonizing moments before shrugging.
"All right, but you're not supposed t'be up here. 'Specially not in Wolverine's room. Promise me ya won' try anyt'in' like dat 'gin?"
"Promise." Wolverine. Sounds dangerous, intimidating. interesting. I allow him to lead me back downstairs as I ponder why he was up there if I wasn't supposed to be.
We exit the building and proceed to a fountain bench. We sit down, a little farther apart than I would have preferred. I'm not sure if Remy's a telepath or not, but he scoots closer and places both his arms around me, clasping them in front. "Dark out here." I try for conversation. He shifts. I can see him take something out of his pocket - a playing card, I notice upon closer inspection. Instantly, I see his hand light up. Jumping away, I gasp. The light transfers to the card and remains there, casting light and shadows every which way as it sizzles and sparks.
"It's okay," he whispers, calming me with a curiously enchanting voice. I lean cautiously back into his embrace. He kisses the top of my head, smelling my hair as he does so. "It's part of my gift." He bends to look at my face. "Tu as belle, chère." He tickles my ear with his nose. Weird, eh? Feels good, though. I turn towards him more, moving until I'm sitting on his lap, facing him.
"Et toi? Beau." I hug him around his neck, loosely. He smiles dreamily. I do something unexpected. I never would have imagined doing it, but I do. I kiss him. Just a simple kiss - a taste. Apparently, he liked it. Before I entirely pull away, he's pressing into me again, opening his mouth as I do mine. A few seconds later, he slides his tongue in stealthily. I welcome it, adding my own to 'enhance' the pleasure. He moves, positioning us so that we both sit on the bench facing each other. The thing I know, I'm laying on my back, Remy still French-kissing me, his body giving off an enormous amount of heat as it rubs against mine. I begin to sweat and breathe shallowly. I can feel my skin and body beginning to lose water - evaporating. My head's spinning - either from the intensity of Remy's love or pure weakness.
"Remy." I manage to choke out while he sucks on my neck and other.places not on my face. Panic is beginning to rise in my throat as I sense myself becoming dehydrated faster. He stops and gazes into my eyes.
"What's wrong?" Worry pierces his words. My subtle intonation had set off an alarm in his head that something wasn't right.
"I. don't feel very good. I'm getting dehydrated. Help me!" I cry out in pain as I say the latter, hyperventilating. The sweat covering my exposed skin disappears as soon as it forms, with my skin desperately trying to keep it inside.
"Hang on, mon amie." He jumps up. "I'm takin' you to the doc's." I can't wait that long. The worst thing in the world happens. I witness his skin suck inward for a split second, becoming desiccated himself. A whirling vortex of water forms between us before shooting into my chest.
Gasping in air upon impact, I choke as I feel my strength return. Standing, I stare down at his inert body, just laying there on the grass. I scream.
Sphinx489~ yay! Another chap fixed! Enjoy! R&R!
~"Love does not only transform our mental/emotional nature, it also involves the physical system of our body which goes through profound changes as well." ~David McArthur
~~~~~~~~~~
So it's not as big as Marshall Fields in Chicago, but it's certainly not too shabby. After a short, but exhilaratingly fast ride in a well air- conditioned car with 'modern' music blaring, I find myself staring up into the huge glass eyes of THE mall. Of course, I only get a few short seconds to slobber all over myself before Monet willfully pulls me inside. That's where Warren almost escapes. Almost.
"Where do you think you're getting off to?" Monet questions, adding too much sugar to her sour inflection. Warren develops an 'I think I'm gonna be sick' puppy look.
"Uh... to the music store to. uh. oh all right, I'll come with you guys."
Monet grins at her triumph. Is it just me or does she try way too hard? But, at least she's pretending to be my friend right now.
"Oof," I spit out as I'm shoved into a lingerie store.
"Basics, first." Did I mention that she's getting really annoying though?
What seems like ages later, we emerge from the multicolored abyss of panties, thongs, bras, and other things no woman should be forced to wear - yet seem to willingly anyway. At this point, I feel worse for poor Warren than myself. He's the one stuck lugging our five stuffed-to-the-brim bags as we proceed onward to a linen store.
"Um. Monet." I venture.
"Yeah?"
"I'd kinda like to hunt around by myself for awhile if you don't mind." She turns to regard me.
"No prob. I need to find some candles and stuff for my room. Have fun." Without any more conversation, we split apart. Warren stands by himself for a moment, looking almost comical with the Victoria's Secret bags stuck on every available limb. Then, he walks over to me.
"There's no way I'm sticking with her for another hour." I grin, leading him to another humorous encounter as I search for the 'perfect' paint, bedspread, curtains, etc. Naturally, I don't take as long as Monet does - I only get caught up once when I can't decide between the white tiger, snow leopard, or regular leopard print theme. Warren stands patiently through all this turmoil, though a slight blush floods his features as he no doubt creates dirty images in his mind. In the end, I decide on the regular leopard print. That's when he has to make an emergency trip back to the car.
"He'll be back." For the first time, Monet and I actually click as friends as we pile our arms full of clothes to try on, leaving each store in just enough time for our mutant slave to find us and carry our purchases out to the vehicle. It nearly feels as if I am back at home, having a perfectly normal, average day out with friends. The only difference being that I'm nowhere near home and I have a more interesting past now. It's almost six o'clock when we finally collapse on the leather seats of the hotrod. Granted we probably aren't as tired as Warren is, but still. Taking one's clothes on and off repeatedly can really wear one out.
"Wow, eight whole hours shopping - has to be my new record. I think I'll wait until tomorrow to sort my things out," Monet says. "I'll help you put everything away tonight, though, before I go to bed. If we work hard, we should be done by. next month!" We break into hysterical laughter as our servant slams the trunk closed and climbs into the car. We drive back to the mansion in exhausted silence. Of course, when we hear that dinner is being served, we cheer up. Unfortunately for Warren, forgetting we have stuff to take up to our rooms and practically racing each other for food. Being the nice person he is, he did put everything in my room without complaining. How sweet. He'll probably never want to go shopping with us again.
Monet drags me (Hmm. do I see a pattern beginning to form?) over to her table, where plates of healthy (ugh) food are already placed around the table. There are only two seats left - apparently, one for me and one for her. I immediately begin shoveling food into my mouth, barely managing to appear appropriate in front of everyone. What can I say? Aside from the Mountain Dew and Jones I'd drunk at the mall, I haven't had anything with food substance in it for nearly three days, now.
"Hey! Slow down, sugar!" A honey thick accent drawls. I glance up. "You look like a ravenous wolf - life you haven't eaten in days!"
"I haven't." I resume.
"Monet!" Good. The strange southern girl with white streak in her hair has decided to pick on someone else. "You haven't introduced any of us." Oh, merde. I loathe introductions.
"Oh! Sorry, guys. Okay. This is Chantal LaJolie, codenamed." she stops mid-sentence, peering at me. I unhappily oblige her with one.
"Sirène."
"Sirène," she repeats, then continues. "Chantal, this is Marie D'ancanto - Rogue," she indicates the girl who told me I look like an animal. Grrr. "Bobby Drake - Iceman, Piotr Rasputin - Colossus." she pauses to catch her breath.
"My name's Paige Guthrie," yet another southern girl says, taking the cue. "Codename's Husk. My brother, Sam goes here too - he's a senior; too good to sit with us. And this is Remy -"
"We've already met," I interject. He smirks briefly. The occupants of the table exchange glances with each other.
"And I'm Pyro," I turn to view the last person seated at the opposite end from me. He's playing with a lighter, flicking the lid repetitively. Click, Clack. Click, Clack.
"I can see that." The group laughs lightly, nervously.
"John Allerdyce, nice to meet ya." He leans across the table to shake my hand. Why does everyone keep doing that!?! Good thing I only have to go through introductions once 'cause I think I'd lose a couple screws going through this again.
After a few seconds, I have to pull my hand from his grasp. Bobby and Paige chuckle. I glance at them, wondering if I was missing something - an inside joke, maybe. I catch Remy's eye. He doesn't look too happy. Ahh. he wants me first. I think. Sometimes that can be dangerous, though, so I'll stop.
Sooner than I imagine, dinner is over and everyone head out to the patio. Luckily, Monet comes over to me before we get pushed out through the crowded doors.
"Come on. We need to put your things away so we can have some fun tomorrow." Yes! I don't have to pretend to be sociable! So far. Something about her voice tells me I won't be staying that way for long. The torture is yet to come.
"What's tomorrow?" I ask, curious. I haven't looked at a calendar lately, maybe it's some special holiday.
"Saturday!" she cries, digging through the sacks on my floor, throwing clothes at me while she pulls out the linen stuff and the purple cans. "Let's paint!" Joy. I grab a roller and slop it onto the walls, using my 'power' to dry it. That's about the only thing I can see it being useful for - that and drying off out of the shower. Other than that it's simply a curse.
By the time we finish carefully placing everything it's after midnight. We both yawn, mine more of a show than hers. I'm used to late nights like this. Not to mention, now that I have food in my stomach, I am content to loll until the early dawn. I drink another glass of water. I've been drinking them all night and she gives me a curious look.
"I'm going to bed - I'm absolutely zonked!" We both giggle at the word. "Chantal. why do you keep drinking all that water?"
"It keeps me from feeling tired," I say, not willing to elaborate. "Gotta have the recommended eight glasses of water a day." I smile, wryly, knowing full well that unless I keep my percent body water constant, I'll get sick and maybe even die.
"Oh. Well. 'Night." I stare at my feet as she passes by and walks out into the hallway.
"Bonne nuit." Once she's left, I become more inquisitive about my new environment. Having refilled my stomach capacity and drank enough water to fill a pool, I decide to explore.
Cautiously opening my door, I creep out when I see no one around. I sniff the air. Mmm. smoke. Yes, I have a problem. More than one actually. I just don't choose to acknowledge all of them until they punch me in the face. Anyway, I follow the scent. Hey, that kind of makes me sound like a wolf after all. I climb up a flight of stairs into what I guess is the 'instructors' quarters. Treading even lighter, I come up to a closed door, preparing to phase through it to get to the source - my treat to be.
Did I mention I can phase through things? No, I don't think I did. Oops. Well, I did now. Everything on earth has water in it, and that's pretty much what I'm made of - all water. So, I just collect a greater density of it where I need it most and pass through it. Pretty nifty, huh? Too bad it doesn't work on metal. I wonder if there's anything else I can do with this unique talent.
Just as I am about to enter, a hand clasps my shoulder. My heart wrenches and it takes all of my willpower not to howl at the top of my lungs in fear. Something I need to work on since a tiny squeal emerges from my pursed lips anyway.
"What you doin', chère?"
I breathe a sigh of relief when I recognize the voice. "Rien, Remy. Nothing." I turn around and hook my arm into his. "Let's go for a walk." He studies me closely for a few agonizing moments before shrugging.
"All right, but you're not supposed t'be up here. 'Specially not in Wolverine's room. Promise me ya won' try anyt'in' like dat 'gin?"
"Promise." Wolverine. Sounds dangerous, intimidating. interesting. I allow him to lead me back downstairs as I ponder why he was up there if I wasn't supposed to be.
We exit the building and proceed to a fountain bench. We sit down, a little farther apart than I would have preferred. I'm not sure if Remy's a telepath or not, but he scoots closer and places both his arms around me, clasping them in front. "Dark out here." I try for conversation. He shifts. I can see him take something out of his pocket - a playing card, I notice upon closer inspection. Instantly, I see his hand light up. Jumping away, I gasp. The light transfers to the card and remains there, casting light and shadows every which way as it sizzles and sparks.
"It's okay," he whispers, calming me with a curiously enchanting voice. I lean cautiously back into his embrace. He kisses the top of my head, smelling my hair as he does so. "It's part of my gift." He bends to look at my face. "Tu as belle, chère." He tickles my ear with his nose. Weird, eh? Feels good, though. I turn towards him more, moving until I'm sitting on his lap, facing him.
"Et toi? Beau." I hug him around his neck, loosely. He smiles dreamily. I do something unexpected. I never would have imagined doing it, but I do. I kiss him. Just a simple kiss - a taste. Apparently, he liked it. Before I entirely pull away, he's pressing into me again, opening his mouth as I do mine. A few seconds later, he slides his tongue in stealthily. I welcome it, adding my own to 'enhance' the pleasure. He moves, positioning us so that we both sit on the bench facing each other. The thing I know, I'm laying on my back, Remy still French-kissing me, his body giving off an enormous amount of heat as it rubs against mine. I begin to sweat and breathe shallowly. I can feel my skin and body beginning to lose water - evaporating. My head's spinning - either from the intensity of Remy's love or pure weakness.
"Remy." I manage to choke out while he sucks on my neck and other.places not on my face. Panic is beginning to rise in my throat as I sense myself becoming dehydrated faster. He stops and gazes into my eyes.
"What's wrong?" Worry pierces his words. My subtle intonation had set off an alarm in his head that something wasn't right.
"I. don't feel very good. I'm getting dehydrated. Help me!" I cry out in pain as I say the latter, hyperventilating. The sweat covering my exposed skin disappears as soon as it forms, with my skin desperately trying to keep it inside.
"Hang on, mon amie." He jumps up. "I'm takin' you to the doc's." I can't wait that long. The worst thing in the world happens. I witness his skin suck inward for a split second, becoming desiccated himself. A whirling vortex of water forms between us before shooting into my chest.
Gasping in air upon impact, I choke as I feel my strength return. Standing, I stare down at his inert body, just laying there on the grass. I scream.