*********************************************************************************
The Second Ascension
Author: Jenskott
Summary: After of the Gathering of The Twelve the machine and the technology of Apocalypse was abandoned and forgotten in Akkaba. Suddenly the reality has changed drastically, without anybody realizing. What happened and who is the responsible? Can the X-Men stop and reassert the timeline in its path?
Notes: Come on, pals! I need reviews! I want reviews! Write two lines down can't be so hard, can it? Go ahead! Or do you want I think doesn't matter whether I go on the tale or not?
Continuity: Comic.
Disclaimer: X-Men belong to Marvel due to some sort of cosmic disaster. And writing nonsense disclaimers to disown stuff that all know aren't yours is boring.
Feedback: To jorgisimox@hotmail.com. I can't stress enough how badly I need advice and supports. English isn't my primary language, so excuse my mistakes.
*********************************************************************************
Part Five-
Logan took with painstakingly care the brown and grey mug and brought it to his awaiting lips. It was hot and steaming, and smelt deliciously. He sipped the green tea with deliberate slowness, relishing in the sweet savor of the warm infusion, and gulped the drink exhaling a delighted grunt of satisfaction. His tongue licked his lips lazily.
He felt so much peace.
While he held the cup, letting its warmth stroke his callous hands, he glanced at the vast and luscious garden. All was harmony and lavish beauty, a feast to the senses and a relief to the body. With its sight he felt mellower and more elated than in much, much time. It was so quiet, serene and pacific.
Crap. He was talking and behaving as an old man. Well, technically he was, but...
A piercing, ear-shattering shrill echoed through the lawn disrupting utterly the mellow tranquillity.
With a mixture of resignation and fun in his eyes he peeped at Amiko, her fore daughter. The child was perched on the tallest branch of one cherry tree, and was goading cheerfully to his son to climb the trunk too. The little girl was a whirlwind of energy, like if she tried proving she was his daughter, blood or not.
He smiled an honest, toothy grin of misplaced pride and shook his head in disbelief. Then a shift on the air drew his attention. An intoxicating presence filled his perceptions with its closure.
"Amiko shouldn't be prodding to his brother to perform such dangerous activity. She shouldn't be swinging on branches of trees as a matter of fact." A calm and troubled voice sounded next to him.
He smiled again. His keen senses had noticed her presence long before she kneeled down, filling the empty spot of the table contiguous to him. He turned to see her grabbing her own cup of tea and slurping noiselessly several sips, sparing a brief and sharp glance at the garden. The whole time she was eyeing to the children with her face altered with mild concern.
"Should she fall..." Her voice trailed off, letting very clear of who she was referring to.
Logan shrugged. "She is a bundle of energy with her age. She's relentless, and needs test her limits all the time. A little of hurt will teach her to not do it better than our lectures. And with we right here, nothing bad can happen to her. Besides, she is above of the pond."
"Poor carps. She shall get them killed by dint of the scares she gives them." Mariko Yoshida drank the last drops of her beverage and lifted the teapot to replenish her mug. Meanwhile Logan stayed quiet, his attention divided between staring at his wife and observing to his hyperactive daughter. She was now dangling head-down, with the knees folded around one branch. The child squealed faint surprise yells, apparently fascinated with her image reflected on the water, overlapping to the red-and-white fishes.
Soft footsteps in the outside drew his attention, and he looked at the bamboo door. The panel slid open and the old maid sneaked into the lobby. Her hands carried one tray with several appetizers, balls of spiced rice and rolls of fish. He sat up instantly and walked around of the table, taking the tray off her hands.
"Sir, it isn't necessa-"
He scowled inwardly with a resigned frustration. They had held this conversation before. "Of course it isn't. Of course it is your job, you were hired to it, and you feel honored doing it. However I can carry around food, and you can be needed in another part of the house. You are dismissed."
"But sir!" She protested, but refrained to herself of further comment. She knew when tough-headed could be Lady Mariko's husband. And these arguments were very trying and fatiguing to her too. The maid whirled around and strolled out of the room, being careful of closing the door silently.
Appearances of dignity and decorum had to be kept after all.
Meanwhile Logan placed the food on the table and sat down. "Again you have accomplished to infuriate another maiden, beloved. I must compliment your skill." Logan listened to her sporting a broad and heartily grin.
"I have a knack to, excuse my language Mari, piss off to the people." One hand darted towards one slice of salmon, and he munched the piece of fish delicately. He was reluctant to be gross in that mansion. It didn't seem right, despite of the relentless Mariko's chastisement stressing this was his home and therefore he could behave to his heart's content. "I know it is her job and she takes it very seriously, her particular duty and all that stuff. But I've never employed any servant, or I don't remember at least, and don't intend start now. Besides, you are who hire them, so I have excuse."
A loud and wet splash burst suddenly. Their heads whipped at once and simultaneously towards the pond. Amiko was swimming in the middle, looking absolutely drenched and miserable.
An instant earlier she had found out the branch wasn't sturdy enough to bear her weight after all. It split with a snap, and she plunged headfirst in the water so swiftly she hadn't time to squeal ever. Another child could have passed out with the blow and drowned, but her Aunt Yukio had trained her to bear hits and falls and recover instantly. Sheer reflects forced her body to rotate in the water and dive upwards hastily, before she ran out of oxygen. She had surfaced among spits of water and coughs, hoping against hope her parents hadn't witnessed her disgraceful dip. She wiped the water off her eyes and looked around with fearful eyes and flushed cheeks. Her eyesight located to her brother, squatted on the rim of the pole and offering her one helpful hand. Amiko took it, struggling against her temptation of tugging and hurling him in the pond.
Logan watched with a huge and smug smirk the antics of both children on the garden, snickering while his hand sought Mariko's. "See you? Now Amiko will think twice before of pulling another stupid stunt."
"Indeed I hope so."
He chuckled and drunk other teacup, reflecting about the sheer weirdness of his life in that instant, the blessed and boring normalcy his world had reached. Often he longed for the old days of uncaring independence and solitary autonomy. He missed be in his own without owing explanations to nobody, thinking just in the current moment. However he wouldn't change what he had achieved for nothing.
After Weapon-X, Jimmy and Heather had returned him his humanity and offered a family. Charles had given him something to believe in, ideals worthy of living and fighting for. The X-Men had gifted him friends, persons he was proud of knowing.
He recalled his first meeting with Mariko. They had arrived to Japan after dueling with Magneto in a volcano's pit, battling against a mad god in the Savage Land and struggling against the tempests of Cape Horn. He could have put a forefront of inalterable toughness and unyielding manliness with his partners, due to his reluctance to show his weakness. That unwillingness was born out of habit, enduring distrustful and his refusal to get worried to people cared for him. However he had been exhausted and drained and needing a break, a relief, a moment to regain his breath and cool down. Then he met her with her. She was pretty. Polite, kind, intelligent. A true dame. Why she hadn't ran away of him at the first sight of his barbarian and roughened appearance was beyond him.
Had been easy love to Jean. Hell, nearly every the X-males had done so. But be loved by her no. She only handed over her heart to one man. And it was partially the reason he had been so driven in her, obsessed with her. He always chased what he knew he couldn't have. But Mariko was different. She was solid, tangible, no a vague mirage, an unreachable ideal. She was solid ground under his foot, the woman who had tamed to the animal and nurtured to the man.
He remembered with less enchantment his meeting with Amiko. In the wake of the Secret Wars the X-Men had fought a dragon in Tokyo. Amidst of the collapsed and wrecked ruins he had met one woman with her child. She had died, but only after he promised her taking care of her poor, orphaned child. He swore it, and his word was his bound. Still he had been scared from the beginning. Look after of someone whose life depends on you implied many responsibilities, duties and compromises. Know how bring up a child and give him or her love and protection without being overwhelming wasn't easy.
It was a true challenge. Very enticing. One he was willing to win. For the Amiko's sake at least.
Logan slid an arm behind his wife, squeezing her shoulder and pulling her in him. "Do you think our kid can be..."
"Honestly? I don't know. Maybe he is a mutant, maybe not. Maybe he gets your powers. Maybe he gets others. Perhaps my familiar genes get some latent mutation can be triggered. Serves of example my cousin Shiro. But regardless he can be-"
"We'll always love him not matter what." Wolverine completed the sentence, gripping tightly her hand. He needed desperately show her his love, his feelings, and since words never were his strong point, he resorted to physical displays of affection. He wanted Mariko knew how much she meant to him, how thanked he was of having meet with her. But there was other underlying, ulterior motive. Far more sinister.
Sometimes when he looked at her, Logan felt like if he was seeing a ghost. A shade, a wraith, a hide might fade away forever at any moment. He craved the reassurance of her reality, the closeness of her body.
*********************************************************************************
INTERLUDE
The next phase required careful and cunning planning. More members of the X-Men were about of disappearing when they were in alert already. Two of they were stray and weren't trouble, but the third was the figurehead. When he was abducted and the remainders two were missed, the effect would be of a stone dropping on a lake or a domino piece falling. The X-Men would be seriously alarmed and determined to get them back. Persons would be tracked down, worldwide sweeps and searches would be made, trails would be followed and guidelines would be sought. Even existed the possibility they noticed the fellowship which they belonged, hence jeopardizing the plan.
The first was Lucas Bishop.
He was a powerful absorber and channeler of energy, but he was pretty useless caught for surprise and off guard, with no weapons or warning, ambushed with physical violence instead any kind of energy. He was instantly knocked out and defeated, attacked from behind with a blunt instrument. It was all it took.
The next turned out to be Storm.
It hurt. Ororo Munroe was seized using the most innocent, harmless bait. She would never be guarded against it; furthermore, it was impossible. Thus the windrider was treacherously attacked when her defenses were utterly lowered. She was fully confided and serene, hugging lovingly to one friend of hers, when she screamed in pain. Still did hurt the recall of the pained screech, the subsequent whimpers and the eyes blurred with tears and gawking with betrayal. But it had to be done.
And then came the Professor-X.
The most of the X-Men had departed to one mission. Others were imparting classes and teaching lessons. And he was comfortably seated on his luxurious office, smoking one handsome pipe while leafed through school reports and missions records. He was so absorbed in the task he was oblivious to anything else. Hence he never saw or perceived the psychic screamer somebody had placed below his desk drawer. And when it was set up, he was beyond concerning.
Pain flared in his mind and traveled across his brain. His thoughts shook and shattered in shards as fragile glass, and the following explosion blasted a shockwave rippled along the astral plane. The psychic realm wavered with the blowup, abruptly overloaded with more energy than it could contain, and quaked in its very foundations. Thousand electric shocks jolted his frame, and he was struck down. The X-Men felt his pain through the psychical link, sensed his excruciating hurt in their heads like theirs own, and they passed out likewise.
His fainted, battered and bruised frame was a limped heap fallen on his table when it was recollected and evacuated out. The X-Men burst in the room too late. Too late to impede his kidnapping. Too late to discover the game and make something in the matter. Very soon the plan would be implemented.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Merely missed four. Only four more to go.
*********************************************************************************
In the next part we see to Bobby, Emma and Jubilee, with the whole Generation-X (with a very dear surprise member). And besides, the identity of the kidnapper is revealed at last! Try guessing who it is. I'm sure nobody will manage figure out it.
The Second Ascension
Author: Jenskott
Summary: After of the Gathering of The Twelve the machine and the technology of Apocalypse was abandoned and forgotten in Akkaba. Suddenly the reality has changed drastically, without anybody realizing. What happened and who is the responsible? Can the X-Men stop and reassert the timeline in its path?
Notes: Come on, pals! I need reviews! I want reviews! Write two lines down can't be so hard, can it? Go ahead! Or do you want I think doesn't matter whether I go on the tale or not?
Continuity: Comic.
Disclaimer: X-Men belong to Marvel due to some sort of cosmic disaster. And writing nonsense disclaimers to disown stuff that all know aren't yours is boring.
Feedback: To jorgisimox@hotmail.com. I can't stress enough how badly I need advice and supports. English isn't my primary language, so excuse my mistakes.
*********************************************************************************
Part Five-
Logan took with painstakingly care the brown and grey mug and brought it to his awaiting lips. It was hot and steaming, and smelt deliciously. He sipped the green tea with deliberate slowness, relishing in the sweet savor of the warm infusion, and gulped the drink exhaling a delighted grunt of satisfaction. His tongue licked his lips lazily.
He felt so much peace.
While he held the cup, letting its warmth stroke his callous hands, he glanced at the vast and luscious garden. All was harmony and lavish beauty, a feast to the senses and a relief to the body. With its sight he felt mellower and more elated than in much, much time. It was so quiet, serene and pacific.
Crap. He was talking and behaving as an old man. Well, technically he was, but...
A piercing, ear-shattering shrill echoed through the lawn disrupting utterly the mellow tranquillity.
With a mixture of resignation and fun in his eyes he peeped at Amiko, her fore daughter. The child was perched on the tallest branch of one cherry tree, and was goading cheerfully to his son to climb the trunk too. The little girl was a whirlwind of energy, like if she tried proving she was his daughter, blood or not.
He smiled an honest, toothy grin of misplaced pride and shook his head in disbelief. Then a shift on the air drew his attention. An intoxicating presence filled his perceptions with its closure.
"Amiko shouldn't be prodding to his brother to perform such dangerous activity. She shouldn't be swinging on branches of trees as a matter of fact." A calm and troubled voice sounded next to him.
He smiled again. His keen senses had noticed her presence long before she kneeled down, filling the empty spot of the table contiguous to him. He turned to see her grabbing her own cup of tea and slurping noiselessly several sips, sparing a brief and sharp glance at the garden. The whole time she was eyeing to the children with her face altered with mild concern.
"Should she fall..." Her voice trailed off, letting very clear of who she was referring to.
Logan shrugged. "She is a bundle of energy with her age. She's relentless, and needs test her limits all the time. A little of hurt will teach her to not do it better than our lectures. And with we right here, nothing bad can happen to her. Besides, she is above of the pond."
"Poor carps. She shall get them killed by dint of the scares she gives them." Mariko Yoshida drank the last drops of her beverage and lifted the teapot to replenish her mug. Meanwhile Logan stayed quiet, his attention divided between staring at his wife and observing to his hyperactive daughter. She was now dangling head-down, with the knees folded around one branch. The child squealed faint surprise yells, apparently fascinated with her image reflected on the water, overlapping to the red-and-white fishes.
Soft footsteps in the outside drew his attention, and he looked at the bamboo door. The panel slid open and the old maid sneaked into the lobby. Her hands carried one tray with several appetizers, balls of spiced rice and rolls of fish. He sat up instantly and walked around of the table, taking the tray off her hands.
"Sir, it isn't necessa-"
He scowled inwardly with a resigned frustration. They had held this conversation before. "Of course it isn't. Of course it is your job, you were hired to it, and you feel honored doing it. However I can carry around food, and you can be needed in another part of the house. You are dismissed."
"But sir!" She protested, but refrained to herself of further comment. She knew when tough-headed could be Lady Mariko's husband. And these arguments were very trying and fatiguing to her too. The maid whirled around and strolled out of the room, being careful of closing the door silently.
Appearances of dignity and decorum had to be kept after all.
Meanwhile Logan placed the food on the table and sat down. "Again you have accomplished to infuriate another maiden, beloved. I must compliment your skill." Logan listened to her sporting a broad and heartily grin.
"I have a knack to, excuse my language Mari, piss off to the people." One hand darted towards one slice of salmon, and he munched the piece of fish delicately. He was reluctant to be gross in that mansion. It didn't seem right, despite of the relentless Mariko's chastisement stressing this was his home and therefore he could behave to his heart's content. "I know it is her job and she takes it very seriously, her particular duty and all that stuff. But I've never employed any servant, or I don't remember at least, and don't intend start now. Besides, you are who hire them, so I have excuse."
A loud and wet splash burst suddenly. Their heads whipped at once and simultaneously towards the pond. Amiko was swimming in the middle, looking absolutely drenched and miserable.
An instant earlier she had found out the branch wasn't sturdy enough to bear her weight after all. It split with a snap, and she plunged headfirst in the water so swiftly she hadn't time to squeal ever. Another child could have passed out with the blow and drowned, but her Aunt Yukio had trained her to bear hits and falls and recover instantly. Sheer reflects forced her body to rotate in the water and dive upwards hastily, before she ran out of oxygen. She had surfaced among spits of water and coughs, hoping against hope her parents hadn't witnessed her disgraceful dip. She wiped the water off her eyes and looked around with fearful eyes and flushed cheeks. Her eyesight located to her brother, squatted on the rim of the pole and offering her one helpful hand. Amiko took it, struggling against her temptation of tugging and hurling him in the pond.
Logan watched with a huge and smug smirk the antics of both children on the garden, snickering while his hand sought Mariko's. "See you? Now Amiko will think twice before of pulling another stupid stunt."
"Indeed I hope so."
He chuckled and drunk other teacup, reflecting about the sheer weirdness of his life in that instant, the blessed and boring normalcy his world had reached. Often he longed for the old days of uncaring independence and solitary autonomy. He missed be in his own without owing explanations to nobody, thinking just in the current moment. However he wouldn't change what he had achieved for nothing.
After Weapon-X, Jimmy and Heather had returned him his humanity and offered a family. Charles had given him something to believe in, ideals worthy of living and fighting for. The X-Men had gifted him friends, persons he was proud of knowing.
He recalled his first meeting with Mariko. They had arrived to Japan after dueling with Magneto in a volcano's pit, battling against a mad god in the Savage Land and struggling against the tempests of Cape Horn. He could have put a forefront of inalterable toughness and unyielding manliness with his partners, due to his reluctance to show his weakness. That unwillingness was born out of habit, enduring distrustful and his refusal to get worried to people cared for him. However he had been exhausted and drained and needing a break, a relief, a moment to regain his breath and cool down. Then he met her with her. She was pretty. Polite, kind, intelligent. A true dame. Why she hadn't ran away of him at the first sight of his barbarian and roughened appearance was beyond him.
Had been easy love to Jean. Hell, nearly every the X-males had done so. But be loved by her no. She only handed over her heart to one man. And it was partially the reason he had been so driven in her, obsessed with her. He always chased what he knew he couldn't have. But Mariko was different. She was solid, tangible, no a vague mirage, an unreachable ideal. She was solid ground under his foot, the woman who had tamed to the animal and nurtured to the man.
He remembered with less enchantment his meeting with Amiko. In the wake of the Secret Wars the X-Men had fought a dragon in Tokyo. Amidst of the collapsed and wrecked ruins he had met one woman with her child. She had died, but only after he promised her taking care of her poor, orphaned child. He swore it, and his word was his bound. Still he had been scared from the beginning. Look after of someone whose life depends on you implied many responsibilities, duties and compromises. Know how bring up a child and give him or her love and protection without being overwhelming wasn't easy.
It was a true challenge. Very enticing. One he was willing to win. For the Amiko's sake at least.
Logan slid an arm behind his wife, squeezing her shoulder and pulling her in him. "Do you think our kid can be..."
"Honestly? I don't know. Maybe he is a mutant, maybe not. Maybe he gets your powers. Maybe he gets others. Perhaps my familiar genes get some latent mutation can be triggered. Serves of example my cousin Shiro. But regardless he can be-"
"We'll always love him not matter what." Wolverine completed the sentence, gripping tightly her hand. He needed desperately show her his love, his feelings, and since words never were his strong point, he resorted to physical displays of affection. He wanted Mariko knew how much she meant to him, how thanked he was of having meet with her. But there was other underlying, ulterior motive. Far more sinister.
Sometimes when he looked at her, Logan felt like if he was seeing a ghost. A shade, a wraith, a hide might fade away forever at any moment. He craved the reassurance of her reality, the closeness of her body.
*********************************************************************************
INTERLUDE
The next phase required careful and cunning planning. More members of the X-Men were about of disappearing when they were in alert already. Two of they were stray and weren't trouble, but the third was the figurehead. When he was abducted and the remainders two were missed, the effect would be of a stone dropping on a lake or a domino piece falling. The X-Men would be seriously alarmed and determined to get them back. Persons would be tracked down, worldwide sweeps and searches would be made, trails would be followed and guidelines would be sought. Even existed the possibility they noticed the fellowship which they belonged, hence jeopardizing the plan.
The first was Lucas Bishop.
He was a powerful absorber and channeler of energy, but he was pretty useless caught for surprise and off guard, with no weapons or warning, ambushed with physical violence instead any kind of energy. He was instantly knocked out and defeated, attacked from behind with a blunt instrument. It was all it took.
The next turned out to be Storm.
It hurt. Ororo Munroe was seized using the most innocent, harmless bait. She would never be guarded against it; furthermore, it was impossible. Thus the windrider was treacherously attacked when her defenses were utterly lowered. She was fully confided and serene, hugging lovingly to one friend of hers, when she screamed in pain. Still did hurt the recall of the pained screech, the subsequent whimpers and the eyes blurred with tears and gawking with betrayal. But it had to be done.
And then came the Professor-X.
The most of the X-Men had departed to one mission. Others were imparting classes and teaching lessons. And he was comfortably seated on his luxurious office, smoking one handsome pipe while leafed through school reports and missions records. He was so absorbed in the task he was oblivious to anything else. Hence he never saw or perceived the psychic screamer somebody had placed below his desk drawer. And when it was set up, he was beyond concerning.
Pain flared in his mind and traveled across his brain. His thoughts shook and shattered in shards as fragile glass, and the following explosion blasted a shockwave rippled along the astral plane. The psychic realm wavered with the blowup, abruptly overloaded with more energy than it could contain, and quaked in its very foundations. Thousand electric shocks jolted his frame, and he was struck down. The X-Men felt his pain through the psychical link, sensed his excruciating hurt in their heads like theirs own, and they passed out likewise.
His fainted, battered and bruised frame was a limped heap fallen on his table when it was recollected and evacuated out. The X-Men burst in the room too late. Too late to impede his kidnapping. Too late to discover the game and make something in the matter. Very soon the plan would be implemented.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Merely missed four. Only four more to go.
*********************************************************************************
In the next part we see to Bobby, Emma and Jubilee, with the whole Generation-X (with a very dear surprise member). And besides, the identity of the kidnapper is revealed at last! Try guessing who it is. I'm sure nobody will manage figure out it.