~well it wasn't a very long wait! But I gotta update TORN next! Enjoy!
Okay so I just read Fleur's new story . . . holy shit . . . I just . . . well just read it! Heh heh heh
Oh and by the by, the whole Galena thing? WHO KNOWS!
hahahaha -----------------------------------
Le Garcon du Futur
Part 6.
Reality Check
-----------------------------------
"DING DONG!"
"Shit!"
Aimée hissed under her breath; Patrick was early. It was finally time for their concert date. She finished applying a coat of lip-gloss and slipped on her black Manalos. Her hair was swept off her face in a high ponytail, exposing her long dangling earrings. A simple red scoop-neck top looked great with a pair of black pants, and her red suede heels. Aimée glanced in the mirror one last time before flinging herself out the door and racing down the steps.
"DING DONG!"
"Coming!! Coming! Coming!" Skidding into the entrance hall, she stopped to catch her breath before swinging open the door, "Hey." Patrick had his back to her, and a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands. He began to turn, a bright smile lighting up his face.
"Hey-ah!!" Screaming, he tumbled backwards down the steps. Aimée quickly turned around, was Logan lurking nearby? Remy? Nope, neither of them had shown up to scare away her date, so she was left confused. What was his problem!?
"Y-Y-your," Patrick was pointing blindly at her, and Aimée felt her hand instinctively shoot up to her face, "eyes!"
Oh . . . right. He hadn't seen them yet. Biting her lip, she watched Patrick get to his feet.
"What's the matter with them?"
"Nothing!" Aimée shot back defensively, her hands balling up into fists, "Patrick, I'm a mutant." It didn't come out the way she wanted it too, but at least the topic was now on the table. He was silent, blue eyes wide, "Are you alright?"
"F-fine."
"No, I mean are you okay. This isn't going to affect our date is it?"
"N-no, of course not." His eyes were still shifty, but his voice had an unnatural firmness to it, and trusting him . . . Aimée took his arm.
--------------------------------------
"What's up, kid?" Luc squinted one eye and glanced up at the tall man before him. He had long dark hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail, and broad muscular shoulders. He was handsome, except for the large M tattooed across his eye.
"Do ah know ya'h?" Luc asked. He was sitting on the floor outside of professor Xavier's office.
"I'm a friend, the name's Bishop. Whatchya'h doin' out here?" He asked, sitting down on the ground next to the boy. Luc shrugged his shoulders and stretched out his gangly arms.
"Ah'm waitin' fu'h professor Xavier."
"Yeah, whenever we get a new mutant he likes t'induct them. Tell a little about us Xmen."
Luc leaned back against the wall, and let his eyes half close.
"Xmen?"
"Well what did you think we did here?"
"Ma-Rog-Mama said it was a school."
"On the outside, but underneath we train our best mutants to become Xmen; protectors of the peace, and mutants everywhere. Yer' dad, and yer mom are Xmen. So's that sister of yours." Bishop raised his eyebrows, but continued to look straight ahead, "I know about you Luc."
"Know what?"
"I know how you got here, I know about yer past. I know that where you come from, being a mutant ain't exactly somethin' to be happy about."
His eyes grew glassy, and Luc nodded his head, letting his short auburn locks fall into his eyes.
"I know that to, Luc. I know how it feels." Bishop looked down at the boy and pointed a finger to his eye, where the letter M was tattooed in large letters, "I know what its like to be branded a mutant, to be tortured just because of who you are. I just wanted to let you know that you ain't alone."
"Thank you." Luc whispered, smiling at the man.
"Well, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here." Bishop smiled back and got up to leave, just as Xavier pulled open his door.
"Luc?" He asked, his brows furrowed, "I'm ready for you know." Luc glanced a Bishop, who gave him an assuring smile, and followed the professor inside.
------------------------------------
"Hahahahaha!" Rogue patted her stomach and rolled back in laughter, cackling at Lucy's television antics. Her husband, however, wasn't sharing in her joy, "Somethin' the matter sugah?" She asked, glancing over at him. Remy was perched by the window, his hair hanging untidily in his face, and was unusually quiet.
"Nothing." He replied in a distant voice, continuing to stare outside. Rogue sighed and clicked off the TV. The room becoming oddly silent without the familiar buzz of the television set. She walked over to him and began massaging his shoulders, feeling the tension.
"It sure don't look like nothin'"
"Ah jus', it's nothin'"
"Tell me"
He sighed deeply and turned to face her, but not looking her in the eye.
"It's just, seein' Olivier. Not exactly somethin' ah was ready fo'."
"Ah know its hard, ah still can't believe he's alive mahself."
"It's not just that."
Rogue frowned and bowed her head, she knew what was wrong.
"Baby its not yoah fault."
"Yes it is, chere, don't try t'cover f'me. I wasn't there for anoth'baby. Another kid ah didn' raise."
"Remy it wasn't yoah choice this time."
"I ALWAYS HAVE A CHOICE!" He snarled, smashing his fist through the windowpane, he was silent for a moment, "Ah'm sorry. I jus', ah jus' don' like knowin' that I wasn't there fo' either of them. I jus' wish that ah had a chance t'be a father."
"Ah know sugah,'" Rogue wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and rested her head on his side, "Ah know."
--------------------------------------
"Oh I love this song!" Aimée squealed, reaching for Patrick's hand to pull him back onto the concert floor. They had taken a brief break for some food, but she couldn't resist an opportunity to go out and dance. Aimée wiggled through the crowd, Patrick's hand clenched tightly in hers. Once she found an opening she let go, and let the music take her body.
"Woo!" She yelled, shaking her hips to the beat. Patrick looked apprehensive, but slowly joined her. The crowd of sweaty dancers, moved to the beat, and the couple were tossed around like they were in a salad spinner.
"You wanna get out of here?" Patrick leaned over and whispered in Aimée's ear.
"What?" He frowned and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the pit.
"I said, do you wanna get out of here?" Aimée rubbed the spot where he had so forcefully grabbed her, but kept her eyes glued to his . . . something was wrong.
------------------------------------
"Sit down, relax." Charles Xavier smiled at Luc, and had to keep himself from laughing at how nervous the boy was. He nodded, and took a seat in a rigid chair by the corner, making Xavier laugh again, "Hello Olivier, my name is Professor Charles Xavier, I presume Rogue has told you about where you are?"
"This is a school, raht?"
"Yes, my school, The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters."
"Gifted?"
"Yes, gifted, gifted like you Olivier. The children at my school are special, because we are all mutants," Luc nodded his head, he understood, "This is one of the reasons why I wish to speak to you. To talk about your special 'gifts'."
"They ain't gifts, profess'uh. Never did me'h any good."
"Not yet. That's why I wanted to offer my services, to teach you how to harness your power."
"That's what Sinister tried to do," Xavier tensed, he knew what happened last time when Luc confused the x-men for being Sinister's associates., "Don't worry, ah'm not gonna try t'blow y'up again. Ah don't like violence, don't like hurtin' people. It's half the reason that ah don' like havin' these powers."
"What's the other reason?"
"People, people like Sinister. People who wanna'h use me."
"You don't have to worry about that here, Olivier. I just want to help you. I know your still scared, still confused, and I want to help you sort through all that. I understand you have a highly advanced ability to-"
"Blow stuff up? That sounds about raht."
"I like to call it a kinetic charge, so severe that it causes combustion. (what the hell did I just say?) Gambit a fellow muta-"
"Is that Remy? Ma'h father?"
"um, yes. Gambit, Remy, has the same ability to kinetically charge objects by touching them, however, you are much more evolved to the point that you can simply concentrate on an object and cause it to blow."
"Like ah did with y'chair."
"Correct."
"It just started happenin' one day and ah haven't been able to control it."
"I'm scheduling you for a danger-room session tomorrow with one of my students, Cyclops, he might be able to help you. Aimée, codename Fauve, will be joining you."
Olivier smiled, and shook Xavier's hand appreciatively.
"Thank you, ah'll be there."
------------------------------------
"Mornin' sleepyhead."
Apollo smiled, he was getting used to waking up to Penelope.
"Mornin'"
"I think I figured out what's wrong with you."
"Yeah?"
"It's your powers, from what you told me, the lack of solar energy is taking a toll on your body."
"That means?"
Penelope smirked, and ruffled his curly blonde hair.
"That to make you better, we just gotta get you back out into the sun!"
He sighed and shook his head, "Right, right. I can't believe I didn't think of that, how did you?"
"No, don't let me bore you with my science talk. I just wanted to tell you that its safe for you to get out of bed."
Apollo felt his cheeks flush, as he rolled out of the large purple comforter.
"Thank you, Penelope, I really appreciate all that you've done for me."
"It's no ma-apollo!" Just then, Apollo collapsed back on the bed, gripping his head as if he feared it might explode, "Apollo what is it!?" His vision blurred, black spots appearing before his eyes, and Apollo began to scream, "what is it!?"
silence.
"Apollo?"
silence. Apollo's body lay rigid on the bed.
"Apollo!"
"It's Aimée."
"Aimée?"
"It's Aimée! She's in trouble!"
------------------------------------
Patrick pulled up in front of an old brownstone, but kept his eyes glued to the wheel.
"Where are we?"
"My house."
Aimée smirked and looked over his shoulder at the building.
"What are we doing here?" She asked, but he was already out the door and standing on the steps. He waited for a moment, before walking back down and around to open her door. Aimée was puzzled, but followed him anyway, and walked towards the brownstone, her hand clutched in his.
"MOMMA!!" He screeched, as they walked into the house. Aimée's eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, "MOMMA!"
"You live with your mother?" Patrick's grip was beginning to hurt her, and Aimée tried to get away, "Patrick, Patrick let go of me. Take me home. I want to go home!" He had a wild look in his eyes, and stopped screaming 'momma' long enough to respond to her pleas.
"You're not going anywhere . . . mutant."
--------------------------------------
~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -Foo
Okay so I just read Fleur's new story . . . holy shit . . . I just . . . well just read it! Heh heh heh
Oh and by the by, the whole Galena thing? WHO KNOWS!
hahahaha -----------------------------------
Le Garcon du Futur
Part 6.
Reality Check
-----------------------------------
"DING DONG!"
"Shit!"
Aimée hissed under her breath; Patrick was early. It was finally time for their concert date. She finished applying a coat of lip-gloss and slipped on her black Manalos. Her hair was swept off her face in a high ponytail, exposing her long dangling earrings. A simple red scoop-neck top looked great with a pair of black pants, and her red suede heels. Aimée glanced in the mirror one last time before flinging herself out the door and racing down the steps.
"DING DONG!"
"Coming!! Coming! Coming!" Skidding into the entrance hall, she stopped to catch her breath before swinging open the door, "Hey." Patrick had his back to her, and a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands. He began to turn, a bright smile lighting up his face.
"Hey-ah!!" Screaming, he tumbled backwards down the steps. Aimée quickly turned around, was Logan lurking nearby? Remy? Nope, neither of them had shown up to scare away her date, so she was left confused. What was his problem!?
"Y-Y-your," Patrick was pointing blindly at her, and Aimée felt her hand instinctively shoot up to her face, "eyes!"
Oh . . . right. He hadn't seen them yet. Biting her lip, she watched Patrick get to his feet.
"What's the matter with them?"
"Nothing!" Aimée shot back defensively, her hands balling up into fists, "Patrick, I'm a mutant." It didn't come out the way she wanted it too, but at least the topic was now on the table. He was silent, blue eyes wide, "Are you alright?"
"F-fine."
"No, I mean are you okay. This isn't going to affect our date is it?"
"N-no, of course not." His eyes were still shifty, but his voice had an unnatural firmness to it, and trusting him . . . Aimée took his arm.
--------------------------------------
"What's up, kid?" Luc squinted one eye and glanced up at the tall man before him. He had long dark hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail, and broad muscular shoulders. He was handsome, except for the large M tattooed across his eye.
"Do ah know ya'h?" Luc asked. He was sitting on the floor outside of professor Xavier's office.
"I'm a friend, the name's Bishop. Whatchya'h doin' out here?" He asked, sitting down on the ground next to the boy. Luc shrugged his shoulders and stretched out his gangly arms.
"Ah'm waitin' fu'h professor Xavier."
"Yeah, whenever we get a new mutant he likes t'induct them. Tell a little about us Xmen."
Luc leaned back against the wall, and let his eyes half close.
"Xmen?"
"Well what did you think we did here?"
"Ma-Rog-Mama said it was a school."
"On the outside, but underneath we train our best mutants to become Xmen; protectors of the peace, and mutants everywhere. Yer' dad, and yer mom are Xmen. So's that sister of yours." Bishop raised his eyebrows, but continued to look straight ahead, "I know about you Luc."
"Know what?"
"I know how you got here, I know about yer past. I know that where you come from, being a mutant ain't exactly somethin' to be happy about."
His eyes grew glassy, and Luc nodded his head, letting his short auburn locks fall into his eyes.
"I know that to, Luc. I know how it feels." Bishop looked down at the boy and pointed a finger to his eye, where the letter M was tattooed in large letters, "I know what its like to be branded a mutant, to be tortured just because of who you are. I just wanted to let you know that you ain't alone."
"Thank you." Luc whispered, smiling at the man.
"Well, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here." Bishop smiled back and got up to leave, just as Xavier pulled open his door.
"Luc?" He asked, his brows furrowed, "I'm ready for you know." Luc glanced a Bishop, who gave him an assuring smile, and followed the professor inside.
------------------------------------
"Hahahahaha!" Rogue patted her stomach and rolled back in laughter, cackling at Lucy's television antics. Her husband, however, wasn't sharing in her joy, "Somethin' the matter sugah?" She asked, glancing over at him. Remy was perched by the window, his hair hanging untidily in his face, and was unusually quiet.
"Nothing." He replied in a distant voice, continuing to stare outside. Rogue sighed and clicked off the TV. The room becoming oddly silent without the familiar buzz of the television set. She walked over to him and began massaging his shoulders, feeling the tension.
"It sure don't look like nothin'"
"Ah jus', it's nothin'"
"Tell me"
He sighed deeply and turned to face her, but not looking her in the eye.
"It's just, seein' Olivier. Not exactly somethin' ah was ready fo'."
"Ah know its hard, ah still can't believe he's alive mahself."
"It's not just that."
Rogue frowned and bowed her head, she knew what was wrong.
"Baby its not yoah fault."
"Yes it is, chere, don't try t'cover f'me. I wasn't there for anoth'baby. Another kid ah didn' raise."
"Remy it wasn't yoah choice this time."
"I ALWAYS HAVE A CHOICE!" He snarled, smashing his fist through the windowpane, he was silent for a moment, "Ah'm sorry. I jus', ah jus' don' like knowin' that I wasn't there fo' either of them. I jus' wish that ah had a chance t'be a father."
"Ah know sugah,'" Rogue wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and rested her head on his side, "Ah know."
--------------------------------------
"Oh I love this song!" Aimée squealed, reaching for Patrick's hand to pull him back onto the concert floor. They had taken a brief break for some food, but she couldn't resist an opportunity to go out and dance. Aimée wiggled through the crowd, Patrick's hand clenched tightly in hers. Once she found an opening she let go, and let the music take her body.
"Woo!" She yelled, shaking her hips to the beat. Patrick looked apprehensive, but slowly joined her. The crowd of sweaty dancers, moved to the beat, and the couple were tossed around like they were in a salad spinner.
"You wanna get out of here?" Patrick leaned over and whispered in Aimée's ear.
"What?" He frowned and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the pit.
"I said, do you wanna get out of here?" Aimée rubbed the spot where he had so forcefully grabbed her, but kept her eyes glued to his . . . something was wrong.
------------------------------------
"Sit down, relax." Charles Xavier smiled at Luc, and had to keep himself from laughing at how nervous the boy was. He nodded, and took a seat in a rigid chair by the corner, making Xavier laugh again, "Hello Olivier, my name is Professor Charles Xavier, I presume Rogue has told you about where you are?"
"This is a school, raht?"
"Yes, my school, The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters."
"Gifted?"
"Yes, gifted, gifted like you Olivier. The children at my school are special, because we are all mutants," Luc nodded his head, he understood, "This is one of the reasons why I wish to speak to you. To talk about your special 'gifts'."
"They ain't gifts, profess'uh. Never did me'h any good."
"Not yet. That's why I wanted to offer my services, to teach you how to harness your power."
"That's what Sinister tried to do," Xavier tensed, he knew what happened last time when Luc confused the x-men for being Sinister's associates., "Don't worry, ah'm not gonna try t'blow y'up again. Ah don't like violence, don't like hurtin' people. It's half the reason that ah don' like havin' these powers."
"What's the other reason?"
"People, people like Sinister. People who wanna'h use me."
"You don't have to worry about that here, Olivier. I just want to help you. I know your still scared, still confused, and I want to help you sort through all that. I understand you have a highly advanced ability to-"
"Blow stuff up? That sounds about raht."
"I like to call it a kinetic charge, so severe that it causes combustion. (what the hell did I just say?) Gambit a fellow muta-"
"Is that Remy? Ma'h father?"
"um, yes. Gambit, Remy, has the same ability to kinetically charge objects by touching them, however, you are much more evolved to the point that you can simply concentrate on an object and cause it to blow."
"Like ah did with y'chair."
"Correct."
"It just started happenin' one day and ah haven't been able to control it."
"I'm scheduling you for a danger-room session tomorrow with one of my students, Cyclops, he might be able to help you. Aimée, codename Fauve, will be joining you."
Olivier smiled, and shook Xavier's hand appreciatively.
"Thank you, ah'll be there."
------------------------------------
"Mornin' sleepyhead."
Apollo smiled, he was getting used to waking up to Penelope.
"Mornin'"
"I think I figured out what's wrong with you."
"Yeah?"
"It's your powers, from what you told me, the lack of solar energy is taking a toll on your body."
"That means?"
Penelope smirked, and ruffled his curly blonde hair.
"That to make you better, we just gotta get you back out into the sun!"
He sighed and shook his head, "Right, right. I can't believe I didn't think of that, how did you?"
"No, don't let me bore you with my science talk. I just wanted to tell you that its safe for you to get out of bed."
Apollo felt his cheeks flush, as he rolled out of the large purple comforter.
"Thank you, Penelope, I really appreciate all that you've done for me."
"It's no ma-apollo!" Just then, Apollo collapsed back on the bed, gripping his head as if he feared it might explode, "Apollo what is it!?" His vision blurred, black spots appearing before his eyes, and Apollo began to scream, "what is it!?"
silence.
"Apollo?"
silence. Apollo's body lay rigid on the bed.
"Apollo!"
"It's Aimée."
"Aimée?"
"It's Aimée! She's in trouble!"
------------------------------------
Patrick pulled up in front of an old brownstone, but kept his eyes glued to the wheel.
"Where are we?"
"My house."
Aimée smirked and looked over his shoulder at the building.
"What are we doing here?" She asked, but he was already out the door and standing on the steps. He waited for a moment, before walking back down and around to open her door. Aimée was puzzled, but followed him anyway, and walked towards the brownstone, her hand clutched in his.
"MOMMA!!" He screeched, as they walked into the house. Aimée's eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, "MOMMA!"
"You live with your mother?" Patrick's grip was beginning to hurt her, and Aimée tried to get away, "Patrick, Patrick let go of me. Take me home. I want to go home!" He had a wild look in his eyes, and stopped screaming 'momma' long enough to respond to her pleas.
"You're not going anywhere . . . mutant."
--------------------------------------
~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -Foo