DISCLAIMER: I still do not own the X-men or any of Marvel's components. I
have not been trying lately to own them, so. Neways, Chantal is still
mine. I have not sold her.
Sphinx489~ No comment. (standard answer () QUESTION AUTHORITY!!!
~"It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not." ~Andre Gide
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Congratulations!" Paige dances merrily into my room early Monday morning, uninvited.
"What the fuck?" I cry out, jumping out of my bed three feet into the air. "How the hell did you get in here?" I should really consider researching booby traps.
"Door was unlocked and you didn't open it when I knocked, so I came right in. By the way, Wolverine said to remind you that you have practice with him in about an hour - you know, you should really stop cussing like that."
"Yeah, whatever." I'm not sure to which statement of hers I was applying that to.
"Anyway, congrats on your new snag. X-girls have been trying to ground the man with his head in the clouds for years and you nail him in less than a week. How'd ya do it?" I sit bolt upright, hopping off the mattress to land in front of my visitor.
"What do you mean?" I decide to play dumb. God, how fast does information travel around here? I feel like I'm in gossip central the way everyone talks all the time and there aren't any secrets. Chances are the whole damn institute knows what happened with Remy.
"You know. You are going out with him. Fine if you're not going to comment, but I was hoping you'd be more responsive than a brick wall." Nice attempt at humor, but I fail to see the relevance and it's lost on me. Paige sits in my desk chair quietly for a few minutes, studying her shoes while she tries to find something to say. At least I think she is. I'm certainly not going to. She glances up at me. "So. where're you from?" I look over at her.
"Baton Rouge," I reply, half-whispering. "Until I ran away anyway." I get up from my perch on the bedstead and walk over to view myself in the mirror.
"Why'd you run away?" Her honey-thick accent oozes terribly into the sentence and it takes me a few seconds to translate. "I heard your parents - or anyone else for that matter - never even knew what you'd become. Ya know, after the accident. You just up and left."
"I can't stand to be tied down," I say.
"Kinda like some other people I know here." I have nothing to say to that. "But something tells me that's not the only reason."
"Too bad you'll never know." I just love sarcasm, don't you? It has so many different uses. Think about it: irony, irritation, turn-ons, etc. There's no end to its power. Okay, don't know where that came from.
"How'd you get to Chicago? And how'd you get enough money to survive for so long before the X-men came and got you? Professor X said you'd run away a good six weeks 'fore they even went in search of ya. You just kept managing to scrape by."
"I hitchhiked most of the way. The rest I took a taxi. By then I had enough money," I pause, wondering how much of my life I'm going to relate to this girl. And I want to know why I told her so much already.
"Where'd all the money come from?" She's persistent; I have to give her that. Still, I explode.
"It's none of your fucking business! Now get the hell out of my fucking room, shithead! And don't even dare to ever come back in here uninvited again. Ever!" I stand menacingly, piercing her perky demeanor with my glare. There are just some things about my past that should never be mentioned again.
Gasping in shock, she stands quickly.
"I. think Jean wants to see me," she says by way of a lousy explanation for a hurried exit. With that, she pivots on her heel and practically sprints out the door. Out in the hallway, I hear a crash.
"Oops." Ha. That's funny.
Since I'm fully awake now, I decide to dress in my uniform and explore the ground some more before my 'counseling session.' I open my window for an easy escape route, but then think better of it. For one, I haven't had too much practice with this flying thing, and for two, these people aren't my parents, so they can't tell me what I can and cannot do. So I go out the 'normal' way and proceed to the upper staircase - my new source of adventure. Staff's quarters.
Just when I am halfway up them, someone screams something at me that makes me freeze in my tracks, that controlling entity deep inside my soul beginning to surface, as though through murky water steadily becoming clearer.
"Evil bitch!"
I whirl. And come face to face with Monet. Except this time, the look displayed across it is not a friendly one. Instead, it's filled with pure revulsion.
"I hate you!" she cries. "You're nothing but a cheap whore! I know what you did with Warren!" By now, other students are spilling out of the dorms in both the west and east wings. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), Warren is nowhere to be seen. Or any of our mentors, either. "You STOLE him from me!" She screams, launching into the air and zooming towards me at lightning fast speed. I narrowly miss being decapitated. Changing direction, I face her again.
"I didn't steal anything from you!" I shout back, pissed. "He was never yours to begin with!" She heads toward me again, shrieking in anger. I transform myself into water and she blows through me, splashing excess on the surrounding walls and students stupid enough to venture closer. As soon as I collect all my 'droplets,' I phase through the window at the end of the corridor - outside to where we'll likely do much less damage. Hey, if I know I'm getting in trouble about this later, why not make the punishment a little less severe?
"Nasty harlot!" Glass shatters as she follows in pursuit. I flinch, more upset with the verbal fight than physical.
"Stop!" I hear someone yelling behind or below us - somewhere out of my peripheral vision. "M! Don't provoke her. She's too dangerous!" Really now. I didn't know that. I gotta say, it does something great for my ego.
The next thing I know, before I can even sink a blow into her skull, we're both blasted from the sky by a brilliant red beam. We land roughly on the scorched earth, a good twenty feet from each other.
I roll over, spitting grass, dirt, and blood from my mouth. Monet groans, holding her head, but remains lying down, eyes squeezed shut. I dislodge a sharp stone from my spine.
The professor is soon at our sides, a weak-looking Cyclops leaning heavily on the handholds of the wheelchair.
"Good to see you up again," I choke out, only half meaning it. For Christ's sake, he just shot me outta the sky. Am I supposed to be jumping up and down and rejoicing on his quick recovery from an injury that I'd bequeathed? Yeah right. I hope the bastard burns in hell.
"Sirène, report to the Danger Room - now." I look up in to Xavier's eyes, surprised not to see anger or resentment lurking there. Confused when I see sorrow.
"Wolverine will be waiting for you there," Scott states, giving me a reassuring smile. Well, not really a smile, but as close to it as he's probably capable. Strange that he'd appear sad as well. Mystifying. I peel myself from the ground, standing, staring levelly at them for a few moments, trying to find answers to unasked questions. I brush past them, half knocking Scott down. He stumbles to the side but remains vertical.
As arranged, several minutes later, Logan is indeed waiting for me. Along with about a foot of water and a few various boulders covering the metal floor.
"Glad you could make it without hurtin' anyone else," he snarls, for once leaving his claws tucked neatly in their sheaths. "Time for a good, solid fist fight. You can use your powers as long as you don't dehydrate me and I won't use my claws on you. Got it?" I nod, smirking. This is going to be way more fun than fighting Cyclops. This guy I can practically kill and he'll be okay tomorrow.
I sprint towards him, at the last minute vaulting into the air to kick him in the chest. He stumbles backward a step as I land and rise again, thrusting a fist into his nose. A thin trail of blood snakes its way from his nostril before drying up in a matter of seconds. I growl and strike again. This feels wrong.
In my moment of hesitation, he swings a solid fist toward the side of my head. I'm still distracted, trying to figure out what's wrong. I forget to duck. The realization hits me the same time his fist does.
I go down wondering why that malicious presence isn't present. I don't want to fight him anymore. At least, not this minute. My head slams into the floor.
My eyes flutter, attempting to blink away dizziness and the non- subsiding pain in the back of my skull. I force myself to swallow and shove myself up from a disgraceful position on the floor. I fight back vomit.
"Don't you think it's unethical to make me fight when nothing's wrong at the moment?" Other than that I can't even tell which one of you is the real one. Since when is he a triplet?
He gives me a strange look, actually pondering what I'd said. "You know, I think you might be right. But I'm not sure if I should just let you leave when we've got an hour in here. Can I just piss you off?" He grins at the latter. I wince, rubbing my head. I make myself return a smile. "Go on, get out of here. But don't let anyone see you out of uniform for the next hour - and don't hurt anyone." Remind me to thank the big mean man later - after my head stops throbbing and I can walk without stumbling.
Needless to say, I proceed hurriedly to the door.
Sphinx489~ No comment. (standard answer () QUESTION AUTHORITY!!!
~"It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not." ~Andre Gide
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Congratulations!" Paige dances merrily into my room early Monday morning, uninvited.
"What the fuck?" I cry out, jumping out of my bed three feet into the air. "How the hell did you get in here?" I should really consider researching booby traps.
"Door was unlocked and you didn't open it when I knocked, so I came right in. By the way, Wolverine said to remind you that you have practice with him in about an hour - you know, you should really stop cussing like that."
"Yeah, whatever." I'm not sure to which statement of hers I was applying that to.
"Anyway, congrats on your new snag. X-girls have been trying to ground the man with his head in the clouds for years and you nail him in less than a week. How'd ya do it?" I sit bolt upright, hopping off the mattress to land in front of my visitor.
"What do you mean?" I decide to play dumb. God, how fast does information travel around here? I feel like I'm in gossip central the way everyone talks all the time and there aren't any secrets. Chances are the whole damn institute knows what happened with Remy.
"You know. You are going out with him. Fine if you're not going to comment, but I was hoping you'd be more responsive than a brick wall." Nice attempt at humor, but I fail to see the relevance and it's lost on me. Paige sits in my desk chair quietly for a few minutes, studying her shoes while she tries to find something to say. At least I think she is. I'm certainly not going to. She glances up at me. "So. where're you from?" I look over at her.
"Baton Rouge," I reply, half-whispering. "Until I ran away anyway." I get up from my perch on the bedstead and walk over to view myself in the mirror.
"Why'd you run away?" Her honey-thick accent oozes terribly into the sentence and it takes me a few seconds to translate. "I heard your parents - or anyone else for that matter - never even knew what you'd become. Ya know, after the accident. You just up and left."
"I can't stand to be tied down," I say.
"Kinda like some other people I know here." I have nothing to say to that. "But something tells me that's not the only reason."
"Too bad you'll never know." I just love sarcasm, don't you? It has so many different uses. Think about it: irony, irritation, turn-ons, etc. There's no end to its power. Okay, don't know where that came from.
"How'd you get to Chicago? And how'd you get enough money to survive for so long before the X-men came and got you? Professor X said you'd run away a good six weeks 'fore they even went in search of ya. You just kept managing to scrape by."
"I hitchhiked most of the way. The rest I took a taxi. By then I had enough money," I pause, wondering how much of my life I'm going to relate to this girl. And I want to know why I told her so much already.
"Where'd all the money come from?" She's persistent; I have to give her that. Still, I explode.
"It's none of your fucking business! Now get the hell out of my fucking room, shithead! And don't even dare to ever come back in here uninvited again. Ever!" I stand menacingly, piercing her perky demeanor with my glare. There are just some things about my past that should never be mentioned again.
Gasping in shock, she stands quickly.
"I. think Jean wants to see me," she says by way of a lousy explanation for a hurried exit. With that, she pivots on her heel and practically sprints out the door. Out in the hallway, I hear a crash.
"Oops." Ha. That's funny.
Since I'm fully awake now, I decide to dress in my uniform and explore the ground some more before my 'counseling session.' I open my window for an easy escape route, but then think better of it. For one, I haven't had too much practice with this flying thing, and for two, these people aren't my parents, so they can't tell me what I can and cannot do. So I go out the 'normal' way and proceed to the upper staircase - my new source of adventure. Staff's quarters.
Just when I am halfway up them, someone screams something at me that makes me freeze in my tracks, that controlling entity deep inside my soul beginning to surface, as though through murky water steadily becoming clearer.
"Evil bitch!"
I whirl. And come face to face with Monet. Except this time, the look displayed across it is not a friendly one. Instead, it's filled with pure revulsion.
"I hate you!" she cries. "You're nothing but a cheap whore! I know what you did with Warren!" By now, other students are spilling out of the dorms in both the west and east wings. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), Warren is nowhere to be seen. Or any of our mentors, either. "You STOLE him from me!" She screams, launching into the air and zooming towards me at lightning fast speed. I narrowly miss being decapitated. Changing direction, I face her again.
"I didn't steal anything from you!" I shout back, pissed. "He was never yours to begin with!" She heads toward me again, shrieking in anger. I transform myself into water and she blows through me, splashing excess on the surrounding walls and students stupid enough to venture closer. As soon as I collect all my 'droplets,' I phase through the window at the end of the corridor - outside to where we'll likely do much less damage. Hey, if I know I'm getting in trouble about this later, why not make the punishment a little less severe?
"Nasty harlot!" Glass shatters as she follows in pursuit. I flinch, more upset with the verbal fight than physical.
"Stop!" I hear someone yelling behind or below us - somewhere out of my peripheral vision. "M! Don't provoke her. She's too dangerous!" Really now. I didn't know that. I gotta say, it does something great for my ego.
The next thing I know, before I can even sink a blow into her skull, we're both blasted from the sky by a brilliant red beam. We land roughly on the scorched earth, a good twenty feet from each other.
I roll over, spitting grass, dirt, and blood from my mouth. Monet groans, holding her head, but remains lying down, eyes squeezed shut. I dislodge a sharp stone from my spine.
The professor is soon at our sides, a weak-looking Cyclops leaning heavily on the handholds of the wheelchair.
"Good to see you up again," I choke out, only half meaning it. For Christ's sake, he just shot me outta the sky. Am I supposed to be jumping up and down and rejoicing on his quick recovery from an injury that I'd bequeathed? Yeah right. I hope the bastard burns in hell.
"Sirène, report to the Danger Room - now." I look up in to Xavier's eyes, surprised not to see anger or resentment lurking there. Confused when I see sorrow.
"Wolverine will be waiting for you there," Scott states, giving me a reassuring smile. Well, not really a smile, but as close to it as he's probably capable. Strange that he'd appear sad as well. Mystifying. I peel myself from the ground, standing, staring levelly at them for a few moments, trying to find answers to unasked questions. I brush past them, half knocking Scott down. He stumbles to the side but remains vertical.
As arranged, several minutes later, Logan is indeed waiting for me. Along with about a foot of water and a few various boulders covering the metal floor.
"Glad you could make it without hurtin' anyone else," he snarls, for once leaving his claws tucked neatly in their sheaths. "Time for a good, solid fist fight. You can use your powers as long as you don't dehydrate me and I won't use my claws on you. Got it?" I nod, smirking. This is going to be way more fun than fighting Cyclops. This guy I can practically kill and he'll be okay tomorrow.
I sprint towards him, at the last minute vaulting into the air to kick him in the chest. He stumbles backward a step as I land and rise again, thrusting a fist into his nose. A thin trail of blood snakes its way from his nostril before drying up in a matter of seconds. I growl and strike again. This feels wrong.
In my moment of hesitation, he swings a solid fist toward the side of my head. I'm still distracted, trying to figure out what's wrong. I forget to duck. The realization hits me the same time his fist does.
I go down wondering why that malicious presence isn't present. I don't want to fight him anymore. At least, not this minute. My head slams into the floor.
My eyes flutter, attempting to blink away dizziness and the non- subsiding pain in the back of my skull. I force myself to swallow and shove myself up from a disgraceful position on the floor. I fight back vomit.
"Don't you think it's unethical to make me fight when nothing's wrong at the moment?" Other than that I can't even tell which one of you is the real one. Since when is he a triplet?
He gives me a strange look, actually pondering what I'd said. "You know, I think you might be right. But I'm not sure if I should just let you leave when we've got an hour in here. Can I just piss you off?" He grins at the latter. I wince, rubbing my head. I make myself return a smile. "Go on, get out of here. But don't let anyone see you out of uniform for the next hour - and don't hurt anyone." Remind me to thank the big mean man later - after my head stops throbbing and I can walk without stumbling.
Needless to say, I proceed hurriedly to the door.