Hey guys, I'm back! I don't really have much to say today, except that it's
not good to flame people's stories, because it really hurts people's
feelings. I, being extraordinarily naïve, just recently found this out.
Therefore, I have resolved to never flame anyone again. I may be a little
harsh sometimes in the future, but I will not be rude only for revenge.
Crono101: Why do you comment on my chapter length when they are longer than your chapters? This one's a little longer, though. Hope you like it! ^_^
So, here's Chapter 4:
Jean removed her hair tie from her hair, and it flowed out, and frizzed out, as if being blown by wind, but the air was still. She reached an open hand out towards one of the walls of boxes, and furrowed her brow in concentration. A purple beam of light, no, not light, energy, shot from her outstretched hand, giving the cold alley a warm glow. The beam surrounded the box wall to their right, lifted all of the crates into the air, and set them gently next to Jean. Then the energy beam disappeared in a flash of white light, and the alley returned to its dingy self. Jean turned around, considerably cheerier, and grinned at Nuria and Alan as if to say, "I love doing that!"
"There you go," she said, beckoning to the door. "Shall we?"
Alan was stunned, realizing that the force that had passed through his mind earlier had come from the Jean. Alan had recognized that warm glow feeling; the redheaded woman had read his mind. She was a mutant, and a powerful one, too. But that bird . . What was that? He recognized it from somewhere . . .
Nuria saw the image as well. Her mother had told her about a bird like that when she was young, that it symbolized a super-powerful entity that truly existed in the form of a woman . . .
"Phoenix!" She gasped.
Jean didn't hear her. She was already out of the crate enclosure. Nuria followed her, with a gut feeling that she would soon regret that she had.
*****************************************
In the middle of an alley near Main Street, there was a large truck, and two people next to it. They were unloading the main body of the truck, and all the while having friendly conversation. The resounding crack of wood against concrete rang out in the thin, cold air, as a crate full of fine wine fell to the snow-covered gravel, and the man who threw it, a tall, skinny man with traffic-light-red hair, wiped his brow.
"You know, Logan," he gasped, unzipping his thick fleece vest. "This really wasn't in my job interview."
The other man, small, heavily muscular, and very hairy, adjusted his trucker hat so it was facing the wrong way, picked up another crate, and gave the skinny man a crooked grin.
"You know, bub," he replied, his voice rough and feral. "Yer just as spineless as you were the day we met." He walked over to the stack he and the other man had made, and dropped the crate, causing another resounding crack. "C'mon, Johnny boy, keep workin'! I don' have all day!"
John sighed, and walked back to the truck to get another load. He really hated his job, but it was the only place that he could find work. He had worked in the New York Fire Department, and was the best they had ever had. But after Kelly's War, a year-long massacre started by the senator of the same name, John and his best friend Bobby got fired, his boss fearing for his safety. And the job options list for mutants kept getting smaller and smaller. The only job he could get after that was his current job, bartender, card dealer and errand-runner at the Ace of Spades. Not a high paying job, naturally. It was a good thing his wife Maria wasn't a mutant, because if she had been, John could never have afforded to keep custody of his daughter, Nuria, let alone his stepson Alan. But John wasn't complaining. At least he had a roof over his head.
Logan started to pick up a box, then stopped. He sniffed the air. There were people nearby, he could smell them, and not all of them were familiar. Ah well, he thought, I've never turned down a good brawl in my life, and I'm not gonna start now.
He sniffed the air again. Oops, false alarm. He turned around, and his vocal tone became friendly. "'Lo, Jeannie," He said. "You look awful tense. What's up?"
John turned around as well, and saw Jean Grey, who worked at the Ace of Spades as well, and . . . His children! There they were, Alan, scruffy and unkempt as always, and Nuria, looking at John like a deer in the road looks at a car coming towards it.
Jean shrugged. She sensed some more people - Mutants - that she couldn't see. And they were hostile. And very powerful. But she wasn't going to tell all that to Logan. She didn't want to make him nervous.
"Oh, it's nothing," She replied, fiddling with her hair. "I guess working all day does that to you."
Logan grinned a lopsided grin at Jean and looked at the two teenagers. At Logan's glance, the girl with John's hair color gave a small gasp and turned away, while the boy raised an eyebrow and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Logan wasn't surprised, nor was he offended. Those types of looks had come his way more than once in his life, and he had, by now, learned to ignore them.
"Who're the kids?" Logan asked.
The girl, who was considerably scared now, cleared her throat, and pointed at John. She then grabbed her brother's arm and her father's t-shirt, and dragged them back into the crate enclosure. No one said anything after that, they just kept working.
*****************************************
Man, that hairy guy scared the heck out of me, Nuria thought, panting heavily. John looked at the teenagers in astonishment.
"What are you two DOING here?" He asked angrily. "I thought I made it clear to you two that I do not want you visiting me during work!"
Alan stepped closer to John. "It wasn't her idea," he said. "I had to tell you . . ." He paused, and looked away. " . . . I'm a mutant."
Nuria automatically took a step back, and regretted the action instantly. Alan had on a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face almost identical to Nuria's, as if being a mutant made him public enemy number one. John said nothing, only stared blankly into space, his hand gripping something in his pocket. His mouth was tight, like there was something in his throat that he couldn't swallow.
"When did you find out?" John asked softly.
"Yesterday," Alan replied. He bit his lip. "I was getting - bullied at school, and I . . . Well, I - uh- pulled a gun on them." Alan opened his hand, and a six-shooter appeared in it, first unclear, like a fog, then . "But it's not REAL, of course," Alan continued quickly. He gripped the gun and literally ran it through his other hand, leaving absolutely no marks. "It's just an illusion, so it didn't harm them."
John stuffed his hands in his pockets and murmured something incoherent. Then there was an uncomfortable silence, and Nuria felt that that was a good time to take her leave.
"I, uh, should go now," she said, turning the color of her hair. "I'm, um, late for choir practice.
And with that, she ran away, away from her family, the strange people who worked at the bar, and all the shocks of the past few minutes.
*****************************************
Nuria stopped three blocks later, and leaned against an alley wall for support. Her conversation with her father seemed like a dream now, a dream that she was trying hard not to believe. Especially that her brother was a mutant! Considering the events of Kelly's War, the news was horrifying. She worried for her brother. Could he keep his powers a secret? If not, could he survive in a world like this?
Nuria heard footsteps behind her.
"What the heck are you doing here?" said a voice next to her. Nuria felt a fist nudge her shoulder. She turned around to see the boy she had expected to see: Alan. "Come on," he continued. "It's no big deal. I can hide it."
Nuria bit her lip.
But can you, Alan?
"Alan . . ." She said softly. "I don't want you to turn out - like Dad."
"Oh, come ON, Nuri!" Alan laughed, as if the thought had never crossed his mind. "There's no way that'll happen. No one will ever know what I am."
Nuria sighed.
I guess right now it doesn't matter.
She decided to give in to his obvious attempt to cheer her up. She grinned widely, and threw her arms around him. "Thank you!" She said.
Then they heard voices from behind them.
Crono101: Why do you comment on my chapter length when they are longer than your chapters? This one's a little longer, though. Hope you like it! ^_^
So, here's Chapter 4:
Jean removed her hair tie from her hair, and it flowed out, and frizzed out, as if being blown by wind, but the air was still. She reached an open hand out towards one of the walls of boxes, and furrowed her brow in concentration. A purple beam of light, no, not light, energy, shot from her outstretched hand, giving the cold alley a warm glow. The beam surrounded the box wall to their right, lifted all of the crates into the air, and set them gently next to Jean. Then the energy beam disappeared in a flash of white light, and the alley returned to its dingy self. Jean turned around, considerably cheerier, and grinned at Nuria and Alan as if to say, "I love doing that!"
"There you go," she said, beckoning to the door. "Shall we?"
Alan was stunned, realizing that the force that had passed through his mind earlier had come from the Jean. Alan had recognized that warm glow feeling; the redheaded woman had read his mind. She was a mutant, and a powerful one, too. But that bird . . What was that? He recognized it from somewhere . . .
Nuria saw the image as well. Her mother had told her about a bird like that when she was young, that it symbolized a super-powerful entity that truly existed in the form of a woman . . .
"Phoenix!" She gasped.
Jean didn't hear her. She was already out of the crate enclosure. Nuria followed her, with a gut feeling that she would soon regret that she had.
*****************************************
In the middle of an alley near Main Street, there was a large truck, and two people next to it. They were unloading the main body of the truck, and all the while having friendly conversation. The resounding crack of wood against concrete rang out in the thin, cold air, as a crate full of fine wine fell to the snow-covered gravel, and the man who threw it, a tall, skinny man with traffic-light-red hair, wiped his brow.
"You know, Logan," he gasped, unzipping his thick fleece vest. "This really wasn't in my job interview."
The other man, small, heavily muscular, and very hairy, adjusted his trucker hat so it was facing the wrong way, picked up another crate, and gave the skinny man a crooked grin.
"You know, bub," he replied, his voice rough and feral. "Yer just as spineless as you were the day we met." He walked over to the stack he and the other man had made, and dropped the crate, causing another resounding crack. "C'mon, Johnny boy, keep workin'! I don' have all day!"
John sighed, and walked back to the truck to get another load. He really hated his job, but it was the only place that he could find work. He had worked in the New York Fire Department, and was the best they had ever had. But after Kelly's War, a year-long massacre started by the senator of the same name, John and his best friend Bobby got fired, his boss fearing for his safety. And the job options list for mutants kept getting smaller and smaller. The only job he could get after that was his current job, bartender, card dealer and errand-runner at the Ace of Spades. Not a high paying job, naturally. It was a good thing his wife Maria wasn't a mutant, because if she had been, John could never have afforded to keep custody of his daughter, Nuria, let alone his stepson Alan. But John wasn't complaining. At least he had a roof over his head.
Logan started to pick up a box, then stopped. He sniffed the air. There were people nearby, he could smell them, and not all of them were familiar. Ah well, he thought, I've never turned down a good brawl in my life, and I'm not gonna start now.
He sniffed the air again. Oops, false alarm. He turned around, and his vocal tone became friendly. "'Lo, Jeannie," He said. "You look awful tense. What's up?"
John turned around as well, and saw Jean Grey, who worked at the Ace of Spades as well, and . . . His children! There they were, Alan, scruffy and unkempt as always, and Nuria, looking at John like a deer in the road looks at a car coming towards it.
Jean shrugged. She sensed some more people - Mutants - that she couldn't see. And they were hostile. And very powerful. But she wasn't going to tell all that to Logan. She didn't want to make him nervous.
"Oh, it's nothing," She replied, fiddling with her hair. "I guess working all day does that to you."
Logan grinned a lopsided grin at Jean and looked at the two teenagers. At Logan's glance, the girl with John's hair color gave a small gasp and turned away, while the boy raised an eyebrow and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Logan wasn't surprised, nor was he offended. Those types of looks had come his way more than once in his life, and he had, by now, learned to ignore them.
"Who're the kids?" Logan asked.
The girl, who was considerably scared now, cleared her throat, and pointed at John. She then grabbed her brother's arm and her father's t-shirt, and dragged them back into the crate enclosure. No one said anything after that, they just kept working.
*****************************************
Man, that hairy guy scared the heck out of me, Nuria thought, panting heavily. John looked at the teenagers in astonishment.
"What are you two DOING here?" He asked angrily. "I thought I made it clear to you two that I do not want you visiting me during work!"
Alan stepped closer to John. "It wasn't her idea," he said. "I had to tell you . . ." He paused, and looked away. " . . . I'm a mutant."
Nuria automatically took a step back, and regretted the action instantly. Alan had on a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face almost identical to Nuria's, as if being a mutant made him public enemy number one. John said nothing, only stared blankly into space, his hand gripping something in his pocket. His mouth was tight, like there was something in his throat that he couldn't swallow.
"When did you find out?" John asked softly.
"Yesterday," Alan replied. He bit his lip. "I was getting - bullied at school, and I . . . Well, I - uh- pulled a gun on them." Alan opened his hand, and a six-shooter appeared in it, first unclear, like a fog, then . "But it's not REAL, of course," Alan continued quickly. He gripped the gun and literally ran it through his other hand, leaving absolutely no marks. "It's just an illusion, so it didn't harm them."
John stuffed his hands in his pockets and murmured something incoherent. Then there was an uncomfortable silence, and Nuria felt that that was a good time to take her leave.
"I, uh, should go now," she said, turning the color of her hair. "I'm, um, late for choir practice.
And with that, she ran away, away from her family, the strange people who worked at the bar, and all the shocks of the past few minutes.
*****************************************
Nuria stopped three blocks later, and leaned against an alley wall for support. Her conversation with her father seemed like a dream now, a dream that she was trying hard not to believe. Especially that her brother was a mutant! Considering the events of Kelly's War, the news was horrifying. She worried for her brother. Could he keep his powers a secret? If not, could he survive in a world like this?
Nuria heard footsteps behind her.
"What the heck are you doing here?" said a voice next to her. Nuria felt a fist nudge her shoulder. She turned around to see the boy she had expected to see: Alan. "Come on," he continued. "It's no big deal. I can hide it."
Nuria bit her lip.
But can you, Alan?
"Alan . . ." She said softly. "I don't want you to turn out - like Dad."
"Oh, come ON, Nuri!" Alan laughed, as if the thought had never crossed his mind. "There's no way that'll happen. No one will ever know what I am."
Nuria sighed.
I guess right now it doesn't matter.
She decided to give in to his obvious attempt to cheer her up. She grinned widely, and threw her arms around him. "Thank you!" She said.
Then they heard voices from behind them.