Oh my dear, could this be *gasp* the SEQUEL??? Yes, my friends, it is. Now,
you will meet the REAL Victoria Bradley. Current. How exciting! Please
please read this, and enjoy it. And please please please review. I really
love getting them.
Disclaimer: God help you if you are an ugly girl, course too pretty is also your doom. For everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room.
~&~
Morning dawned, the same as before. Chances were the next would follow in similar suit. Life had become quite simple in Bayville. The same things happened day to day, the protestors still protested in the streets, gathering more support every year. Their main proponent, Senator Bradley, hadn't been seen since the incident years back. He had shriveled into himself, life had taught him a lesson.
Even though anti mutant feelings were growing, the Institute prospered. Parents of mutant children turned to Professor Charles Xavier and his rather large faculty to help the transition from human to super being. The school was world renowned for human/mutant relations, and well trusted by many in the community. Although, any human in his or her right mind didn't go asking for a cup of sugar on their steps.
So big the population had become, the Bayville school district no longer allowed mutants in their halls. Xavier was well prepared for this, and after a few buildings added here, rooms converted there, he had a full on school and training facility. Many of his original students had stayed behind after graduation, helping in the transition. They were now his staff, teaching the many diverse classes Xavier offered his pupils.
While the fights with the Brotherhood still continued, they were much fewer. And Xavier had long ago handed the leadership of the X men to Scott, and he didn't pry much. It really wasn't his concern anymore. His main concern was how to keep all the children currently attending fed. And he thanked God that they no longer dined with him. As he got older, he found the need for a quiet and peaceful cup of coffee and newspaper in the morning. He was grateful for it.
Lifting he cup to his lips, he took a long sip, his hand reaching out for the paper. He was distracted by the door opening. A disheveled woman made her way in, pushing her white locks behind her ears, moving immediately to the coffee pot.
"Morning Rogue," Xavier greeted. "How was your night?"
Rogue grunted in return, pouring her milk and mixing the glass. Taking her first sip, she moved slowly to the table, sitting across from her mentor.
"Still having problems sleeping?"
"It's awful, Professor," she admitted. "I just can't sleep, no matter what I do. I tell, ya, though. Ororo's rose garden looks amazing at 3:47 am."
Xavier chuckled and pulled the paper to him, turning the pages. Budget cuts across the county, a car accident, same old news. "How are plans coming for the trip to the Met?"
"They're kinda, not coming. I need another chaperone, and NO ONE'S free. I may have to call it off." Rogue sighed and buried her head in her arms. "The kids really seemed to wanna see it, too."
The Professor took a sip thoughtfully. "Well, you know, I haven't been to the Met in a good long while. I always enjoyed their European paintings. What show were you planning on seeing there?"
"El Greco. It's supposed to be pretty impressive."
"Quite. Well, let's see if I can't free up some time to accompany you, then. El Greco's always been a favorite of mine," he smiled.
Rogue reciprocated. "Thanks, Professor." She stood, to refill her cup. "Want another?"
"Thank you." He handed her his cup, and turned back to his paper. News never seemed to change. And turning another page, he found this to be even more correct. Another murder. A serial killer, it was obvious. It was a small mention in the back of the paper, a place reserved for mutant news. Another mutant had been killed. Andrew Stuck, a middle aged restaurateur. And again, the nature of death was completely undetermined. No one really paid these deaths much heed, they WERE mutants, after all. But Xavier had been following them for the past, what had it been, nine years now? Ever since a young mutant, Davis Cameron, had been killed. Another small blurb in the newspaper that had caught his eye years ago. He had figured this to be the first.
And over the course of the next few years, more mutants, across the country, seemed to find the same fate. It had police baffled, not that they spent much time on the cases anyhow. Another mutant gone, good riddance. But the Professor needed to find the answers. Even if the answers stood before him, finding them, was harder than he could have imagined.
"What's up, Professor?" Rogue asked, returning to the table, steaming mugs in hand. She glanced at the article over his shoulder. "Another?"
The Professor pinched his bridge. "And close. This one happened in White Plains. If you could, I would like to have a word with the rest of the faculty as soon as possible."
"Sure." Rogue hurried out of the room to collect the others.
He turned toward the window, feeling helpless as to everything that had happened. The knowledge that he could have stopped all of this before it began was evident, and the guilt in the fact that he had not been able to stop it in all this time was heavy. "Oh, child, what have you done?"
~&~
"$10,000." He dropped stack of money on the table. "For your trouble."
"My ass!" The girl argued. "We agreed $15,000 as a MINIMUM."
"$15,000 if you offed the guy by FRIDAY, girly," he took a log drag on his cigar. "It's TUESDAY. $10,000 and that's IT."
"Do you know what a BITCH this guy was?" she disputed. "He could make things explode by looking at them. The hunt alone took longer than expected."
"Look, I through in a carton of cigarettes, alright? Now get outta here, I'm not givin ya anything else." The man tossed the carton at her, which she dodged.
"I don't smoke."
"You're loss then. Now take this money and LEAVE."
The man's companion looked on fearfully as the two argued. "Listen, Steve, maybe we should give her the full 15, eh?"
"Bullshit! I said I'd pay 15 if she wasted him by Friday!" Steve advanced on the girl. "Now take your god damn money and leave!"
The girl looked at Steve with more ferocity than they had ever seen. "15. I'm not leaving without it."
Steve spit in his face. "Fucking whore. Be glad I gave you anything."
Wiping his spit out of her face, the girl's hands began to glow. Steve found it hard to move, as he felt a painful sensation wrack through his body. He fell to the floor, clutching his chest.
The girl approached. "I don't appreciate being called names, nor do appreciate being spat at by a disgusting, fat piece of shit as you." She moved closer. "Now, we agreed that if I took out the mutant for you, I'd get $15,000. The deed is done, you're mutant is dead. I expect to be paid in full. Now, instruct your friend in how he can GET my $5,000 or I will end you faster than I did that damn mutie!"
Steve nodded fearfully. "Jim, get another 5 thou outta the bag."
Jim shook fearfully as he reached for the bag and pulled out another $5,000 for their employed. He passed it to her, and she sneered at him as she caught it. Releasing her grip on Steve, she grabbed the other ten thousand and walked out the door.
"Fucking muties," Steve sputtered, breathing heavily. "I swear I never wanna see another one again."
The girl rushed off down the street, her hands stuffed in her pockets, along with the cash. She could afford a room tonight, and then a train ticket to get her the hell out of this state. Too many bad memories.
Work she could find anywhere, she was lucky. She was the only one of her kind in her profession, and she was damn good. Which is why she was so well sought out. She'd started small, knocking off a mutie here and there for a few hundred. But word spread fast, and she was soon up to her neck in work. So, prices went up. And she always got what she asked for. If not willingly, then by force, as it were necessary.
She loved her job. In a twisted way, it was what made her human. She was fighting against the mutants, fighting against what she hated. She prayed that she would one day be freed of her own disgusting mutation. But, until then, she'd just keep going, until there wasn't a mutie left.
She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, in order to fend off the cold. She needed a room, and fast. The weather had not been kind lately. She could see the first flurries start from the sky when an opulent car pulled up. The door opened for her and she peered in.
"I'm not that kind of girl, guy," she told whoever was inside. "I'm just walking home." She turned to leave.
"I know exactly who you are, my friend," the voice from within beckoned. "Going by Current now?"
The voice sounded oddly familiar. "What do you want?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Get in, and we may discuss it." Still suspicious, she crawled into the car.
Now she knew why she had recognized that voice. Sitting next to her was the Senator Graydon Creed, a man who had taken over for her father on the anti mutant platform. He offered her a glass of wine. She sat staring at it. "Take it."
She took the glass and sniffed it. Swirling it a bit, she felt it looked safe enough and took a sip. Not bad.
"Now, I have heard you are good at what you do, perhaps the best," Senator Creed began. "But I think I may have quite a challenge for you."
"There is no challenge," Current replied finishing her wine in a swig. "At least no challenge any mutant could pose."
"You may find the mutants I have in mind an bit," Graydon began. "Different. A bit more experienced."
"Mutants?" she inquired. "Just how many are we talking? I generally don't do more than one per client. As a general rule. It's too risky."
"I am willing to pay quite handsomely. QUITE handsomely, Miss Current," he proceeded.
"Enough with the shit, Mr. Creed. How much?" she cut in.
"$500,000 per head. Four mutants, that's 2 million for all four."
Current's mouth dropped. She hardly could comprehend that amount of money. Putting her poker face back on, she answered. "What's the catch here, Creed?"
"No catch, really. Only, these four mutants are quite powerful. As well as well trained. They will present quite a challenge. Although nothing you can't handle, I'm sure."
Current nodded. "Ok, so who do I have to do in?"
Creed reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a card. "Here is my card. Meet me tomorrow at this address, at 7 pm. Don't be late." The car rolled to a stop. "Until then, I suppose you won't have trouble finding a room here."
Her door opened, and she stepped out under the hotel's overhang. The snow had gotten heavy.
"Don't be late." He called, as he slammed the door behind him, and the car drove off.
~&~
Well, there ya go!! Don't expect this to be finished all too fast. Another example of a story that I start without having a definitive plot for. But, yall can see where this is going, yes?? Oh, and a thanx to my Andy and my Christopher for the name Andrew Stuck. Yeah, I borrowed their names for it, those cuties!
Yeah, so Torey ain't as nice as she used to be, is she? Hehehe. Well, she's been through a lot. And she's going to be going through a lot more. R&R!!!
Disclaimer: God help you if you are an ugly girl, course too pretty is also your doom. For everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room.
~&~
Morning dawned, the same as before. Chances were the next would follow in similar suit. Life had become quite simple in Bayville. The same things happened day to day, the protestors still protested in the streets, gathering more support every year. Their main proponent, Senator Bradley, hadn't been seen since the incident years back. He had shriveled into himself, life had taught him a lesson.
Even though anti mutant feelings were growing, the Institute prospered. Parents of mutant children turned to Professor Charles Xavier and his rather large faculty to help the transition from human to super being. The school was world renowned for human/mutant relations, and well trusted by many in the community. Although, any human in his or her right mind didn't go asking for a cup of sugar on their steps.
So big the population had become, the Bayville school district no longer allowed mutants in their halls. Xavier was well prepared for this, and after a few buildings added here, rooms converted there, he had a full on school and training facility. Many of his original students had stayed behind after graduation, helping in the transition. They were now his staff, teaching the many diverse classes Xavier offered his pupils.
While the fights with the Brotherhood still continued, they were much fewer. And Xavier had long ago handed the leadership of the X men to Scott, and he didn't pry much. It really wasn't his concern anymore. His main concern was how to keep all the children currently attending fed. And he thanked God that they no longer dined with him. As he got older, he found the need for a quiet and peaceful cup of coffee and newspaper in the morning. He was grateful for it.
Lifting he cup to his lips, he took a long sip, his hand reaching out for the paper. He was distracted by the door opening. A disheveled woman made her way in, pushing her white locks behind her ears, moving immediately to the coffee pot.
"Morning Rogue," Xavier greeted. "How was your night?"
Rogue grunted in return, pouring her milk and mixing the glass. Taking her first sip, she moved slowly to the table, sitting across from her mentor.
"Still having problems sleeping?"
"It's awful, Professor," she admitted. "I just can't sleep, no matter what I do. I tell, ya, though. Ororo's rose garden looks amazing at 3:47 am."
Xavier chuckled and pulled the paper to him, turning the pages. Budget cuts across the county, a car accident, same old news. "How are plans coming for the trip to the Met?"
"They're kinda, not coming. I need another chaperone, and NO ONE'S free. I may have to call it off." Rogue sighed and buried her head in her arms. "The kids really seemed to wanna see it, too."
The Professor took a sip thoughtfully. "Well, you know, I haven't been to the Met in a good long while. I always enjoyed their European paintings. What show were you planning on seeing there?"
"El Greco. It's supposed to be pretty impressive."
"Quite. Well, let's see if I can't free up some time to accompany you, then. El Greco's always been a favorite of mine," he smiled.
Rogue reciprocated. "Thanks, Professor." She stood, to refill her cup. "Want another?"
"Thank you." He handed her his cup, and turned back to his paper. News never seemed to change. And turning another page, he found this to be even more correct. Another murder. A serial killer, it was obvious. It was a small mention in the back of the paper, a place reserved for mutant news. Another mutant had been killed. Andrew Stuck, a middle aged restaurateur. And again, the nature of death was completely undetermined. No one really paid these deaths much heed, they WERE mutants, after all. But Xavier had been following them for the past, what had it been, nine years now? Ever since a young mutant, Davis Cameron, had been killed. Another small blurb in the newspaper that had caught his eye years ago. He had figured this to be the first.
And over the course of the next few years, more mutants, across the country, seemed to find the same fate. It had police baffled, not that they spent much time on the cases anyhow. Another mutant gone, good riddance. But the Professor needed to find the answers. Even if the answers stood before him, finding them, was harder than he could have imagined.
"What's up, Professor?" Rogue asked, returning to the table, steaming mugs in hand. She glanced at the article over his shoulder. "Another?"
The Professor pinched his bridge. "And close. This one happened in White Plains. If you could, I would like to have a word with the rest of the faculty as soon as possible."
"Sure." Rogue hurried out of the room to collect the others.
He turned toward the window, feeling helpless as to everything that had happened. The knowledge that he could have stopped all of this before it began was evident, and the guilt in the fact that he had not been able to stop it in all this time was heavy. "Oh, child, what have you done?"
~&~
"$10,000." He dropped stack of money on the table. "For your trouble."
"My ass!" The girl argued. "We agreed $15,000 as a MINIMUM."
"$15,000 if you offed the guy by FRIDAY, girly," he took a log drag on his cigar. "It's TUESDAY. $10,000 and that's IT."
"Do you know what a BITCH this guy was?" she disputed. "He could make things explode by looking at them. The hunt alone took longer than expected."
"Look, I through in a carton of cigarettes, alright? Now get outta here, I'm not givin ya anything else." The man tossed the carton at her, which she dodged.
"I don't smoke."
"You're loss then. Now take this money and LEAVE."
The man's companion looked on fearfully as the two argued. "Listen, Steve, maybe we should give her the full 15, eh?"
"Bullshit! I said I'd pay 15 if she wasted him by Friday!" Steve advanced on the girl. "Now take your god damn money and leave!"
The girl looked at Steve with more ferocity than they had ever seen. "15. I'm not leaving without it."
Steve spit in his face. "Fucking whore. Be glad I gave you anything."
Wiping his spit out of her face, the girl's hands began to glow. Steve found it hard to move, as he felt a painful sensation wrack through his body. He fell to the floor, clutching his chest.
The girl approached. "I don't appreciate being called names, nor do appreciate being spat at by a disgusting, fat piece of shit as you." She moved closer. "Now, we agreed that if I took out the mutant for you, I'd get $15,000. The deed is done, you're mutant is dead. I expect to be paid in full. Now, instruct your friend in how he can GET my $5,000 or I will end you faster than I did that damn mutie!"
Steve nodded fearfully. "Jim, get another 5 thou outta the bag."
Jim shook fearfully as he reached for the bag and pulled out another $5,000 for their employed. He passed it to her, and she sneered at him as she caught it. Releasing her grip on Steve, she grabbed the other ten thousand and walked out the door.
"Fucking muties," Steve sputtered, breathing heavily. "I swear I never wanna see another one again."
The girl rushed off down the street, her hands stuffed in her pockets, along with the cash. She could afford a room tonight, and then a train ticket to get her the hell out of this state. Too many bad memories.
Work she could find anywhere, she was lucky. She was the only one of her kind in her profession, and she was damn good. Which is why she was so well sought out. She'd started small, knocking off a mutie here and there for a few hundred. But word spread fast, and she was soon up to her neck in work. So, prices went up. And she always got what she asked for. If not willingly, then by force, as it were necessary.
She loved her job. In a twisted way, it was what made her human. She was fighting against the mutants, fighting against what she hated. She prayed that she would one day be freed of her own disgusting mutation. But, until then, she'd just keep going, until there wasn't a mutie left.
She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, in order to fend off the cold. She needed a room, and fast. The weather had not been kind lately. She could see the first flurries start from the sky when an opulent car pulled up. The door opened for her and she peered in.
"I'm not that kind of girl, guy," she told whoever was inside. "I'm just walking home." She turned to leave.
"I know exactly who you are, my friend," the voice from within beckoned. "Going by Current now?"
The voice sounded oddly familiar. "What do you want?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Get in, and we may discuss it." Still suspicious, she crawled into the car.
Now she knew why she had recognized that voice. Sitting next to her was the Senator Graydon Creed, a man who had taken over for her father on the anti mutant platform. He offered her a glass of wine. She sat staring at it. "Take it."
She took the glass and sniffed it. Swirling it a bit, she felt it looked safe enough and took a sip. Not bad.
"Now, I have heard you are good at what you do, perhaps the best," Senator Creed began. "But I think I may have quite a challenge for you."
"There is no challenge," Current replied finishing her wine in a swig. "At least no challenge any mutant could pose."
"You may find the mutants I have in mind an bit," Graydon began. "Different. A bit more experienced."
"Mutants?" she inquired. "Just how many are we talking? I generally don't do more than one per client. As a general rule. It's too risky."
"I am willing to pay quite handsomely. QUITE handsomely, Miss Current," he proceeded.
"Enough with the shit, Mr. Creed. How much?" she cut in.
"$500,000 per head. Four mutants, that's 2 million for all four."
Current's mouth dropped. She hardly could comprehend that amount of money. Putting her poker face back on, she answered. "What's the catch here, Creed?"
"No catch, really. Only, these four mutants are quite powerful. As well as well trained. They will present quite a challenge. Although nothing you can't handle, I'm sure."
Current nodded. "Ok, so who do I have to do in?"
Creed reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a card. "Here is my card. Meet me tomorrow at this address, at 7 pm. Don't be late." The car rolled to a stop. "Until then, I suppose you won't have trouble finding a room here."
Her door opened, and she stepped out under the hotel's overhang. The snow had gotten heavy.
"Don't be late." He called, as he slammed the door behind him, and the car drove off.
~&~
Well, there ya go!! Don't expect this to be finished all too fast. Another example of a story that I start without having a definitive plot for. But, yall can see where this is going, yes?? Oh, and a thanx to my Andy and my Christopher for the name Andrew Stuck. Yeah, I borrowed their names for it, those cuties!
Yeah, so Torey ain't as nice as she used to be, is she? Hehehe. Well, she's been through a lot. And she's going to be going through a lot more. R&R!!!