Hey folks, I know it's been FOREVER! But hey, thanks to your persistent
reviewing, I've got another one up and running.keep sending the reviews,
and the time periods between updates will probably be shorter.
Disclaimer-I do not own X-men Evo
Special Thanks-Ashdfox, who designed my villains (you know which ones) I wanted to let ya know, I couldn't have done it with out you! Thanks for all your support love!
Chapter Fifteen-Bread and Water
Rat tap, rat tap, rat tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.. A gray waxen spidery index finger clicked incessantly on the smooth enamel surface. Molten cobalt glimmering softly in the dull light of the oval room. Tap, tap, tap. Flesh stretched tightly across bone, withered creases bulging out of indentations of muscle. Ratta tap tap. Beating in a constant rhythm the nail clicked. Tap, tap, ratta tap tap. Sharpened and curved, the thin claw repeated the eerily pulsating beat, like a cockroach rubbing it's legs. Beneath hooded eyebrows, underneath black lenses, waxy eyelids fluttered shut. Lips jerking into a suavely possessive smile, as he calmly clutched a tiny crystal teardrop between his thumb and forefinger. The gem hung from a linked chain of light silver, almost moonlight in coloring, it's diamond shape glowing an almost perfect milky white. Incandescent rays glittering off its stainless edges penetrated corners stinking of musty gloom. Alighting the dark iron floor beneath his black booted feet. Shadowing the sunken hollows of his eyes and cheeks, the rippling wrinkles of his forehead, and deepening the lines around his eyes. Caressing the smooth surface, he inhaled deeply, breath rattling in his chest.
"Sculptor."
"What is it Seraphim? I'm busy." The cultured voice of Adrian Blacks tone hissed, as he gave the teardrop jewel another loving stroke. Irritation mingled with displeasure in his words. With a tired sight, Sculptor placed the chain around his neck, leaving the pendant to sway undisturbed about his chest.
The husky bare-chested form of Seraphim, long titanium quarterstaff in one bear-paw hand, and a long revolver in the other, slipped silently out of the darkness. Long pink scars traced themselves across his bronze skinned chest, as a short hash mark cut across his shoulder. He positioned himself militarily, back stoic and straight, beside the door. "Another prisoner tried to escape." In the flat tones of the man's voice, there were no inflections, no dips, no squeaks, nothing otherwise suggesting emotion. They were monotonous, lifeless, dead. His stalwart stance, cold as the north wind's breeze, remained in statuesque posture.
"What did you do?" Lips tucking in a pleasured smile, gray skin drawn tight around his mouth, Adrian twisted his black-gloved hand, turning his chair to face Seraphim, he whispered. "You know my orders."
"I killed her."
Sculptor leaned back, relaxing into his stiff chair. The metal wriggled, glowing softly in the harsh darkness. Reconfiguring to fit his current pose. Smile still fixed firmly in place, he raised his hooded gaze to the towering form of Seraphim. "Ah." He began, in the ambiance of one reprimanding a child. "And which one did you kill?"
Seraphim's visage showed no visible reaction to his boss's condescending tone. Not that it could. The left portion of his face was a charred mass of tissues, receding to the back of his skull. Crisply burnt charcoal skin flaked off his blackened lips. Left half of his mouth twisted into either a sinisterly maimed smile or an unearthly grimace. Adrian was never sure. A long scar traced from forehead to jaw, running through his eye. It was deep, revealing sections of bleached white bone, and muscle. No longer were there hairs marking an eyebrow, after all, they'd been singed off by scalding heat. It remained a gruesome mask of scarred flesh. The right was no less disturbing. Hidden beneath a flat white slate curving around his face and skull, exposing only ear, eye, and patches of spiky black hair. A long blacks slash mirrored his left half across his eye. Sculptor decided that whatever human features remained on this man were hidden by that mask. Allowing only the paralyzed expressionless half to exist. The last living piece of Seraphim existed only in his remaining eye. It burned slowly and steadily with internal fire, a brilliant orb of brown meshed with gold. It had a way of piercing the soul. That engulfing desire for revenge. "Does it matter." His stated coldly, allowing only the barest perception of a shrug. "As long as the job gets done?"
Adrian chuckled, his laughter mirthlessly dry. "No, it doesn't." Holding up a slender finger, he smiled. "If they weren't from prison cell 666." He evaluated quietly, the reactions of his man. "Did you fight her with collar or without."
"She managed to deactivate it." Seraphim never bothered questioning his boss, the man knew the comings and goings of his building. He knew which prisoners escaped.
"Really?" Surprised dripped from Adrian's words. The gray man tapped his chin. "They are growing more resourceful. You made an example of her, I presume."
"I left her carcass hanging in the mess. They'll all see it."
"Good, next time beat the girl, don't kill her. They all have their uses."
"Yes sir." Seraphim turned to go.
"One moment." Adrian called. "Tell Setsuna I want a word. He'll need to reevaluate the tracking systems on the collars, and the alerts. I don't want any more unplanned escapes." Tongue coursed over his lips, as he turned away from the huskier man. "There will be no more unplanned escapes."
"Is that all?" Adrian grinned in the gloom, Seraphim sounded almost plaintive.
"Yes, get going." With a long index finger he tapped his temple. "Boss wants a word."
"The Council?"
Shaking his head, Adrian stood. "No, they're the liaison, the usual one." He pursed his lips. "She wants a word.a private communiqué. It should prove interesting, if not pleasurable." Laughing melodiously, Adrian turned, waving away his lackey. "Go tell Setsuna and inform Fortune to.begin rehabilitation of my dear Rogue."
"Of course." Seraphim vanished silently, a quiet click of the steel door remained as remnants of his passing.
Disclaimer-I do not own X-men Evo
Special Thanks-Ashdfox, who designed my villains (you know which ones) I wanted to let ya know, I couldn't have done it with out you! Thanks for all your support love!
Chapter Fifteen-Bread and Water
Rat tap, rat tap, rat tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.. A gray waxen spidery index finger clicked incessantly on the smooth enamel surface. Molten cobalt glimmering softly in the dull light of the oval room. Tap, tap, tap. Flesh stretched tightly across bone, withered creases bulging out of indentations of muscle. Ratta tap tap. Beating in a constant rhythm the nail clicked. Tap, tap, ratta tap tap. Sharpened and curved, the thin claw repeated the eerily pulsating beat, like a cockroach rubbing it's legs. Beneath hooded eyebrows, underneath black lenses, waxy eyelids fluttered shut. Lips jerking into a suavely possessive smile, as he calmly clutched a tiny crystal teardrop between his thumb and forefinger. The gem hung from a linked chain of light silver, almost moonlight in coloring, it's diamond shape glowing an almost perfect milky white. Incandescent rays glittering off its stainless edges penetrated corners stinking of musty gloom. Alighting the dark iron floor beneath his black booted feet. Shadowing the sunken hollows of his eyes and cheeks, the rippling wrinkles of his forehead, and deepening the lines around his eyes. Caressing the smooth surface, he inhaled deeply, breath rattling in his chest.
"Sculptor."
"What is it Seraphim? I'm busy." The cultured voice of Adrian Blacks tone hissed, as he gave the teardrop jewel another loving stroke. Irritation mingled with displeasure in his words. With a tired sight, Sculptor placed the chain around his neck, leaving the pendant to sway undisturbed about his chest.
The husky bare-chested form of Seraphim, long titanium quarterstaff in one bear-paw hand, and a long revolver in the other, slipped silently out of the darkness. Long pink scars traced themselves across his bronze skinned chest, as a short hash mark cut across his shoulder. He positioned himself militarily, back stoic and straight, beside the door. "Another prisoner tried to escape." In the flat tones of the man's voice, there were no inflections, no dips, no squeaks, nothing otherwise suggesting emotion. They were monotonous, lifeless, dead. His stalwart stance, cold as the north wind's breeze, remained in statuesque posture.
"What did you do?" Lips tucking in a pleasured smile, gray skin drawn tight around his mouth, Adrian twisted his black-gloved hand, turning his chair to face Seraphim, he whispered. "You know my orders."
"I killed her."
Sculptor leaned back, relaxing into his stiff chair. The metal wriggled, glowing softly in the harsh darkness. Reconfiguring to fit his current pose. Smile still fixed firmly in place, he raised his hooded gaze to the towering form of Seraphim. "Ah." He began, in the ambiance of one reprimanding a child. "And which one did you kill?"
Seraphim's visage showed no visible reaction to his boss's condescending tone. Not that it could. The left portion of his face was a charred mass of tissues, receding to the back of his skull. Crisply burnt charcoal skin flaked off his blackened lips. Left half of his mouth twisted into either a sinisterly maimed smile or an unearthly grimace. Adrian was never sure. A long scar traced from forehead to jaw, running through his eye. It was deep, revealing sections of bleached white bone, and muscle. No longer were there hairs marking an eyebrow, after all, they'd been singed off by scalding heat. It remained a gruesome mask of scarred flesh. The right was no less disturbing. Hidden beneath a flat white slate curving around his face and skull, exposing only ear, eye, and patches of spiky black hair. A long blacks slash mirrored his left half across his eye. Sculptor decided that whatever human features remained on this man were hidden by that mask. Allowing only the paralyzed expressionless half to exist. The last living piece of Seraphim existed only in his remaining eye. It burned slowly and steadily with internal fire, a brilliant orb of brown meshed with gold. It had a way of piercing the soul. That engulfing desire for revenge. "Does it matter." His stated coldly, allowing only the barest perception of a shrug. "As long as the job gets done?"
Adrian chuckled, his laughter mirthlessly dry. "No, it doesn't." Holding up a slender finger, he smiled. "If they weren't from prison cell 666." He evaluated quietly, the reactions of his man. "Did you fight her with collar or without."
"She managed to deactivate it." Seraphim never bothered questioning his boss, the man knew the comings and goings of his building. He knew which prisoners escaped.
"Really?" Surprised dripped from Adrian's words. The gray man tapped his chin. "They are growing more resourceful. You made an example of her, I presume."
"I left her carcass hanging in the mess. They'll all see it."
"Good, next time beat the girl, don't kill her. They all have their uses."
"Yes sir." Seraphim turned to go.
"One moment." Adrian called. "Tell Setsuna I want a word. He'll need to reevaluate the tracking systems on the collars, and the alerts. I don't want any more unplanned escapes." Tongue coursed over his lips, as he turned away from the huskier man. "There will be no more unplanned escapes."
"Is that all?" Adrian grinned in the gloom, Seraphim sounded almost plaintive.
"Yes, get going." With a long index finger he tapped his temple. "Boss wants a word."
"The Council?"
Shaking his head, Adrian stood. "No, they're the liaison, the usual one." He pursed his lips. "She wants a word.a private communiqué. It should prove interesting, if not pleasurable." Laughing melodiously, Adrian turned, waving away his lackey. "Go tell Setsuna and inform Fortune to.begin rehabilitation of my dear Rogue."
"Of course." Seraphim vanished silently, a quiet click of the steel door remained as remnants of his passing.