"Man, I need to get me some moo juice."
- Evan Daniels
Turn, Smile, Shift, Repeat
A/N: I have a feeling people are going to throw moldy furry green cyber cheese at me after they read the lyrics excerpt in this chapter. But I don't care, because I live for puns. That and I like furry green cheese. I see pirate penguins after eating furry green cheese. … … … uhh, Happy Nondominational Holidays!
MORE stuff about Amara that no one really cares to know: I visited marveldirectory.com, and it says Amara is from Nova Roma, this secluded place in a hidden city in the Amazon jungle. So… I guess she's not from an island in the Pacific? (Comic verse terribly confuses me, sometimes) Either way, the Amazon-jungle-thing is the route I'm going to take in this story, here on out.
~*~Reviewer Responses~*~
Joey1 – Really? I'd like to read it! The world needs more new recruit fics… and Jamie angst. Yes. That would make the world go 'round. Thanks for the kind words!
Ima Super Mute Ant – Hee, hee, hee. Thanks for the review!
Dark Jaded Rose – Eh, but Logan knows better! He's a MAN! … adult. Yeah. Eh. Ray's allowed to say naughty words, because he's a ROCK STAHHH!!! Ahem. Thanks!
Tak – That's super nice of you, but I think it'll be easier on everyone if I just stick to Babelfish and not make the language mix-up again. ^^ But thanks, anyways. And again, I'm SORRY to all of you guys. Really, I am, and I swear I won't do something that stupid again. …okay, I can't promise that. *reads second review* See? I can't keep promises about my levels of stupidity. :B
Raskolian Phoenix - ^^ All of the chapter titles are named after songs. The first one was from The Bee Gees ('70s, baby!), the second song was from Green Day and the excerpt came out really screwed up on the page…but whatever… and this chapter is named after yet another song. This'll be a Roberto/Rahne/Sam love triangle for sure, but I really don't know what'll be the outcome anymore. I used to be a huge Rahne/Sam 'shipper, but that was before I kept on watching 'Retreat' over and over and over again…kind of like how I watch Power Surge over and over again for the Bobby/Jubilee moment. XD
animeluvr1 – Eck; don't worry; I'm not a Logan/Jubilee 'shipper. _ You have to look kind of closely and guess a little bit; but there's something that happens here that's very important to the Tabitha/Amara relationship later on…
Camille – Really? One of my X-Men: Evolution forum buddies is from New Orleans, and he says nobody sounds anything like Remy or Daddy Le Beau. He was so mad during the Cajun Spice episode. ^^; And apparently, no one in Australia would be caught dead talking like John. But I like writing accents! Woo! (Except for Piotr's…I really don't know how to word his…which is why I will never be seen writing an Acolytes story until I find out…) You have the same sense of humor as me? That's sublime.
Radical-Seto – Wee! Thanks for the kind words… Right now I'm double-tasking by writing this up and reading your story, 'My Love'. It's awesome for a first fic, did you know that? And I'm a Kurt/Kitty fan too! Runaway looks good too. Update. Now. Or else I will shake the world with my Lance powers…nyeh heh…
cxigner – I'm on someone's Author list?!! WOOOOT!! *head explodes with self-esteem overload*
cheeky-bear007 - ^^ Humorous doesn't even cover half of it…I'm not really trying to make the characters funny, it's just my stupid writing style…I have a habit of incorporating a little bit of myself in all of my fics… thanks for reviewing!
The Rogue Witch – Hee, me too. Except I eat piiiiixieeee stiiiiicks. Cookies don't cut it for me… HAHAH! A special tree!? o_O! That's…disturbing and funny at the same time… man, I love your guys' reviews. Fwee!
StarryEyedDragon – Yeah, I myself can't pick a favorite between the New Recruit guys. They're all so bueno. Hem… this week, it's Roberto again. ^_~ Last week my favorite was Ray… I kept on screaming 'LET'S FRY THIS TURKEY!' in the hallways of my school.
Chaotic Boredom – Oh, no. Not unless you e-mailed me and insulted me with bad grammar. ^^ As I am SUCH a nice person (pffft, not) I won't say any names; but rest easy, because I have no bad feelings towards any of the reviewers, as this person did not review. (even more reason to dislike them…mwee!) Heh…sexist writers? Hey, even more evidence: Pietro kept on disappearing in Season 02! … I go to such lows to try to entertain you guys. Sadly enough, I must say that there is no Canadian-ness in this chapter.
Sphinx29 – So… he's super-religious, but he had an AFFAIR with her mom? _ Man, and I thought he was an ass before this. Thanks for the info!
mendari - ^^ It was to answer any questions and doubts, but yes, a portion of it was inspired by one of your reviews. You call Roberto Sunny? Coolio! I call him PLANTMAN!!! …He speaks MAYAN!!?! Noooooo. I'm going to go insane. Babelfish doesn't have Mayan, last time I checked…urg. Man, you guys are making me hate Rev. Craig more and more.
Andivari – I feel SOO stupid. Sorry for the mistake! And yes, these couples kick mucho assus. Well, I love your RoD/BoD couples, don't I? ^^ And in case animeluvr1 never reads this story again, could you tell her (him? I just don't know anymore…) that I'm REAAAALLY sorry for not mentioning her as co-author? I didn't know before… _ A younger set of the Brotherhood, eh? *rubs hands together* Eeeeexcelleeeent.
animeluvr1 – GAH! I'm so, so, so, so, SO very sorry. Really! I am! I'm sorry about the Portuguese/Hispanic/Mayan thing, I'm sorry about making Amara eeeeevil, and I'm REALLY sorry to you, and about mistaking D-Ark (now Andivari…) for a girl. Thanks for reviewing. *hides in a dark corner and rocks back and forth*
Scribbler – *_* Whoa. THE Scribbler is reviewing my little fic! AND she called me an evil breakfast supplement! SQUEE! I can honestly say that some things in this fic are inspired by reading your stories, and a couple other ones as well, for the single reason that I just love your characterization of the NMs. Hope you didn't mind! o__
Calamari Rings – I swear, I've heard of you in other places before. Maybe it was in a forum, or an oekaki board, but I did, really, you must've built a name for yourself around the X-Men: Evo fan community, or maybe people thought your name was so cool they copied it… anyways, there'll be a chapter about every frickin' character in X-Men: Evolution, in this fic. Heck, I might even write a chapter about Duncan! :D That'd be sweeeeeeet… Thanks for the ideas! Especially that Bobby/Sam one… because we all know that somewhere in Season 04, between 'Stuff of Villains' and 'Ghost of a Chance', Bobby was forced to choose between his long distance girlfriend, and his best 'friend', Sam. And though it was a difficult choice, Bobby eventually chose…and we all know who he picked, considering all the 'horsey'-ness. :P
Snitter in Rivendell – Dude, my head ALREADY blew up with egotistical self-esteem. :D No, really. Thanks v. much for all the compliments! I was planning to upload this tomorrow (I never like posting on Sundays…) but your words made me feel guilty. Yes, I don't update consistently… my muses are quite evil, so blame them. Again, thank you!!! I thank all of y'all… D'aw, yeh guys ah soo sweet. *blush*
Yo listen up: here's a story
About a little guy that lives in a blue world
And all day and all night and everything he sees is
Just blue like him inside and outside
Blue his house with a blue little window
And a blue Corvette and everything is blue for him
And himself and everybody around
'Cause he aint got nobody to listen: ...
I'm blue da ba dee (etc, etc)
I'm blue da ba dee (etc, etc)
- Eiffel 65 … "Blue"
Chapter 3: I'm Blue, Da Ba Dee
Roberto scowled at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling before him. They were of stars, planets, moons, and other such universal objects, and they mocked him. Roberto Da Costa was always restless during nighttime – he just wasn't the nocturnal type, personality-wise and mutation-wise. He was also very good at scowling. It came naturally to him. That's what Bobby had said to him the other day; he had been rambling about something about Mexican gardeners and leaf blowers. It didn't really make much sense. Actually, nothing really makes sense when Bobby babbles. But he did earn a smack over the head from Logan for that, who, as it happens, greatly enjoys smacking the back of the heads of the males of the household.
He heard Ray turn under his covers and make an odd noise that was something between a grunt and a snore. Roberto scowled at the sleeping boy, scowled at this lavish mansion that was incredible compared to his old home, scowled at this place that was so different from what he knew and was familiar with. If he had had his way at all, he would not be here in this wretched, twisted collection of freaks and demons. What was worst of it all, was that he was one of them. A mutant. An official outcast of society. From the descriptions that Logan told the New Recruits about other mutants hanging around Bayville; other mutants that were not quite as fortunate as the X-Men, Roberto was thankful, at the least, that his mutant-enhanced DNA did not extend to his normal appearance. Green skin, red eyes, razor sharp teeth… were they mutants or animals?
Hm. Perhaps it was best not to ponder that question.
-----
Bobby scowled at the ceiling. He was restless because of the humid heat in the room, and he was restless because the room temperature was higher than usual, being that it was accompanied by three people rather than one. He was also restless because, a 12-year old kid was mumbling in his sleep and kicking around the covers next to him. While in contrast, on the other bed, a gawky, unassertive Southern hick was sleeping contentedly, hugging his pillow and with a dreamy half-smile on his rather large head.
How the heck had he, Bobby, the master of disguise, pranks, and bluffs, get stuck with sharing the bed? Maybe because he had taken Sam to be the ultimate pushover, despite his size, and underestimated him. (There were many contradictions in that sentence, Bobby knew, but couldn't be bothered to decipher them.) In any case, Jamie had sat down next to Ororo during dinnertime (the boy was oddly taken with her – Bobby grew excited, despite himself, at the thought of possible blackmail. A boy like Bobby always, ALWAYS gets excited at the thought of blackmail.) and explained the problem, having lost his sugar energy by then. Logan, having overheard the conversation, gruffly suggested they flip a coin and see 'who gets stuck with the runt', as Logan had put it. Then Ororo reprimanded him for that comment, saying that it was rude to act as if Jamie was a nuisance to be put up with when rather, he was a blessing. (Jamie had glowed after that heatedly said comment.) It seemed Logan was used to being defeated in arguments by Ororo, and merely grunted, and forked up some boiled potatoes with a SNIKT. ("Boiled?! But I'm a man! I need man food!" Logan muttered tetchily before earning a death glare from Ororo, by which he quickly ate it.) Bobby, who was sitting in between Jamie and Ray, immediately took up Logan's suggestion and had already gotten his trick coin out. Sam, sitting directly across from Bobby and wedged in between Rahne and Jubilee, looked rightfully suspicious at the coin. Bobby had merely grinned at Sam's expression; Bobby was the master of the con, and was sure that no one could be able to catch him.
That was, until Jubilee, whom had arrived midway into the dinner course with Logan and now sat between the said lumberjack man and Sam, piped up to ask Bobby at this particular moment which room he resided in. Bobby lost concentration and quickly got involved in a mind-consuming (not) conversation with her, while somehow, someway, Sam switched the coins. Probably with Jubilee's help, because there was no way Sam could've done it by himself. How could he have? He was pretty sure his mutant abilities weren't also branched out to stealth… and Jubilee was far away and Bobby's eyes were on her the whole time, so she couldn't have done it. Unless… Rahne had helped out as well? He had noticed over the course of dinner that they had grown to be something akin to friends already, and had been, in between eating, conversed animatedly about the animals that Sam had grown up with and raised on the farm. (Honestly, Bobby couldn't fathom how talking about animals could be so interesting.) But then again, Rahne didn't seem like the type of person who would do something like that, or really have the pick pocketing skills to switch coins unnoticed. Ray was off the list – he seemed to treat Sam with scorn, and was far too busy having a glaring contest with Amara across from him. (The resident princess was choosing to, instead of picking at her bland dinner as she had done at first, glare at everyone around her, which happened to Rahne, sitting next to her, and Ray, across from her. She, most definitely, did not help Sam out.) So maybe it was possible. He had simply underestimated the farm kid.
Bobby grimaced at the mere thought of it.
-----
Ororo stood outside at her balcony to stare out at the sky. Just an hour ago, all of the highschooler X-Men veterans had just returned from a party of their pupil's – Duncan, she believed. (The Professor hadn't wanted them to go, even if it was Saturday evening. He wanted them to stay for dinner and meet the New Recruits. Ororo had convinced him to let them go and have introductions the next day; she felt bonds needed to be made between the younger ones first, and it would be pointless to do it right there when three students were missing.) Evan had returned with a gash on the side of his head. Ororo nearly had a heart attack and fussed over him, but he promptly turned his head the other way so she couldn't see it, muttered a good night, and went to his room. She tried to get it out of the others, but Jean was flushed and embarrassed and quickly left to the solitude of her room. Scott was flushed as well, but out of shame; he said in a hollow voice it was all his fault, and refused to say another word after that, dragging his feet up the stairs and out of sight. Kurt and Kitty weren't an option, as they hadn't even gone to the party. (They weren't old enough to go to one of Duncan Matthew's reckless parties, as Jean told them. They were full of liquor that you had to learn to avoid, some drugs that were being sold in the corners, and many drunken hook ups in the master bedroom. Not that any of that was told to the adults, but they knew enough. And trusted them to avoid it.)
It was Rogue, surprisingly, who told her what happened. Scott and Duncan had got into a huge fist fight with other guys in it… Evan had attempted to break it up, but Scott shoved him away, and one of Duncan's cronies had gotten the switchblade out…
After that, Rogue grew tight-lipped, snapped a 'Good nigh' to the woman, and stomped upstairs. Ororo sighed and drew the robe around her shoulders closer; on a clear, moonlit night like this, she felt somewhat lonely. Evan was pushing her aside like a typical teenager. It wasn't as if she wasn't expecting it, but… they used to be so much closer when Evan was younger. And she was embarrassed… ever since the whole Magneto and 'superior mutants' fiasco, she had been sitting around at the Institute feeling more than a bit useless, and miffed at the memory of being captured and helpless. But all that would change, she mused, now that the new mutants had come. Her motherly instincts were kicking in already; there was going to be a lot to do for her now around here. She would be needed. And she needed the feeling of being needed.
Nine new recruits… one who has a short fuse and the powers to go with it; two roguish mischief-makers whose powers involve lots of flashy explosions; a metamorph that enjoys romping about hazardously; a spotlight-hogging prankster with a power that has numerous and vast possibilities; a clumsy living, breathing air projectile that makes an elephant look graceful; a volcano that's set to explode at any second; and a tetchy, surly absorbent of solar energy the equivalent of a plant.
She sighed. Just thinking about it gave her a headache and a mighty hankering for some Tylenol.
-----
"This is the rec room." Scott announced, his arm sweeping about in front of him to exaggerate his point. Rahne made a little "o" of understanding with her mouth, while Sam nodded avidly. (but he had been nodding at everything Scott said. He nodded every time Scott paused for breath. He nodded when Scott scratched under his arm, but then, Scott didn't know anybody had been watching.)
Bobby eyed the television set by the corner excitedly. "Do you guys have a PS2? Or a Gamecube?"
Scott frowned at the mention of video games, which as we all know, rot your mind away to delicately powdered mush. … … …drool. "You should ask Kurt or Evan about that instead of me; the Professor discourages time spent to video games, but they play them anyway. Moving on," Scott walked briskly forward out of the room, the New Recruits trudging behind him. They passed the kitchen, where Kitty Pryde was going about collecting ingredients for a sandwich or two.
BAMF! "Hey, Keety! Making a ham-mustard-pickle-pepper sandvich?"
Make that seven.
The sophomore frowned and crossed her arms, holding a tube of mayonnaise in one hand. "Like, ew, Kurt! I'm making a simple cucumber sandwich! The ham around here isn't kosher!"
The blue-haired boy paused from in the middle of pulling up his pants up to cover his green boxers a little bit more, and looked bewildered while staring at Kitty. "You're Jewish?" [1]
Scott quickened his pace, ushering the young mutants to follow him. Jamie cast a final, longing look at the sandwich in the process of being made before chasing after to catch up with the rest of the group. After walking up the stairs and down the long, long hall, they halted in front of the large metal contraption before them. It resembled a giant elevator, but to Amara, it looked like an ugly, gleaming silver monster made of steel and iron. Scott pushed the button and the doors slid open with a cool 'metal sliding' sound effect, like those doors in Star Trek. She shrieked, jumping back to trod on Sam's toe, making the boy grimace in pain but sweetly kept his mouth closed. Her frown deepened when Scott stepped into it, and made as if to motion the others into it with him.
"You're kidding, aren't you? I'm not stepping into that – that – thing!" Amara exclaimed, pointing at the lift as if it had popped out from the elevators of hell. Which is funny, because I've always wondered if there are elevators in hell. Like, there'd be a Level 1 for all of the kids who ever cheated on their tests, and a Level 2 for all them authors who ever paired Sabretooth with Juggernaut, and a Level 3 for the people who made the song "Up Side Down" by A*Teens. I imagine Pyro would go wild for that; he'd push all the buttons and run around screaming and laughing. But our young friends don't know who Pyro is, and at the moment, are not pondering if there are elevators in hell. (Actually, I'm pretty sure Jamie is. That kid is a misunderstood genius.) At the moment, Scott was staring at Amara (only he could've been staring at Tabitha's chest for all we know behind those red shades, the sly fox) and everyone was staring confusedly at Amara.
"Erm… Ah believe it's called an elevaterr." Sam said helpfully.
A look of comprehension dawned on Scott's face. "I get it… you're the princess from Nova Roma, am I right?"
Amara scowled, except princesses don't scowl; she pouted prettily with an angry look in her eye. "I am the first and only daughter of Lucius Antonius Aquilla, the First Senator of Nova Roma." She sniffed, and added, "I suppose, in your cultural environment, I would be called in simpler terms a 'princess'."
"Right." Scott said all business-like, not paying any attention to Amara's haughty tone. "Well, Amara, you might be surprised, and even shocked, by the technology that you're going to see down here. Some of this stuff is way ahead of its time, and whatever you guess the equipment's worth, it's twice as much. So that means no touching anything, at least for today." Scott sent a stern look at them all, but you can't really tell, but his mouth was curving down a bit. So there.
For the most part, Jamie had been quiet for the tour. Actually, back home, he was known as the quiet kid, but for some reason, he felt unusually hyper around the Institute. It was just something in the air that made him get to his feet and dance. Probably Logan's sweat pheromones.
"Bouncy! Bouncy bouncy bouncy bouncy!" Jamie trilled, jumping on the balls of his feet. Bobby moaned and collapsed to the side of the wall, feeling his symptoms coming back again. Unfortunately, that side of the wall was where Rahne had been leaning against, and she shoved him quite forcefully for such a friendly person, and smiled without any trace of guilt.
"Sorry, laddie, but this would be my corner. I'm a wee bit territorial, ye know." Rahne said cheerfully. Bobby merely groaned in pain. Sam attempted to stifle his snort of laughter, but it came out anyways. The Scottish-bred girl grinned at him, and he blushed. This time, Ray snorted; but for different reasons. Something bumped against his arm, and he turned to see Tabitha Smith awfully close to him.
"What's the mattah, sugah?" Tabitha said, imitating Sam's southern twang, but as a girl, she sounded an awful lot like Rogue. Scott, surprised, turned his head quickly, but found no goth girl sulking among their ranks. Meanwhile, Ray, attempting to keep what little cool he had in his head, tried to say something that would impress her, but at that instant, the lift stopped and Scott ushered everyone out of the now-open door. At the moment, Ray hated their leader. Very, very much. Tabitha seemed to have forgotten that she had ever spoken to him in an exaggerated Southern accent already, and walked up front to join Roberto, who gave no notice of her.
"This is the systems control room. As inexperienced, unqualified recruits, you're not allowed in here, and even if you were, you shouldn't have a need to be in here. This room is entered only if something is going haywire, and on systems checks. If you're smart, you won't ever need to come in here." Scott said. He closed the door to the dark room and walked down the hall, his brisk footsteps making a 'tap, tap, tap'.
"Absolutely everything down here is metal." Amara said in a hushed voice, as if someone had died.
"No, not everything." Scott said in a strange tone, a dry-looking grin on his face that had absolutely no humor in it. "If it was…" He paused, looking at them all. "Well, maybe I'm not the person to say. Anyways, this is the Navigational Room. Again, I doubt you'll need to come here unless the Prof is going to fill you in on mission details. Here, we can look up data and information we need, but believe me when I say it's not for your History homework."
Bobby tried to move his head to see over Ray's tall one, and craned his neck forward.
"Cool!" He exclaimed. "It's like a gamer's heaven in here!"
Scott glared at Bobby, and continued. "We have cameras in every single room in this house and outdoors, except for the bathrooms. In this room, we can see anything that's going on in the perimeter of the Institute." He switched off the lights and hurried them over to the middle of the hall, where another elevator; a fatter one, stood still for them, marked by a giant red X.
"Why's there another one? Couldn't we have just taken the first elevator?" asked Tabitha, looking bored.
"The rooms we're going down to are too large and too deep for the elevator to fit." Scott simply said. He pressed the button, and it opened to reveal a sodden and severely disgruntled Evan.
"Danger Room Session a little tough on you, Ev?" Scott said with a grin. Evan glowered at him.
"God, Logan went crazy on us today." Evan muttered darkly. "Who took his dog bone?" Scott laughed, and hit him on his back. Evan made an 'oomph' sound, and fell forward. The bone spikes – sorry, spykes – had already grown out by that time, and when Scott held an arm out to steady him, two of them burst out directly at Bobby's head. Three more ones shot out right afterwards, and just barely missed Sam's head and stuck onto the wall behind him, adorning something like a half-halo around the tall boy's face. But something odd was going on.
The two spikes that had aimed at Bobby were hovering right before Bobby's tightly shut-eyed face.
"Good reflexes, Jean." Scott said, relieved. A second person stepped out behind Evan from the elevator, holding her hands out in front of her like some kind of zombie. The new recruits received an eyeful of bright, lush, almost-too-red-to-be-real hair that made Jamie think of Little Mermaid. He started swaying to the beat of 'Under The Sea', but no one noticed that except for Roberto, who determinedly kept his mouth shut and tried to keep a straight face.
Jean stomped up and snatched the two floating spikes out of the air and into her fists. "Evan." She sounded annoyed and glared at the said person, who put an arm to his head apologetically. His arm moved a little, and the recruits caught a glimpse of an ugly gash with a fresh scab.
"Sorry." He said sheepishly. "Hey, you okay, dude?"
Bobby didn't reply at first, but slowly opened one eye. "Am I dead?" He croaked.
Scott grinned. "Not just yet, if Logan's training sessions is anything to go by."
Bobby sighed with tremulous relief, his hand touching his nose and forehead and cheeks as if making sure they hadn't been hideously marred without his knowing. But Jamie was more concerned about what had nearly killed Bobby, rather than if he was okay. He peered up at the resident skater boy. [2]
"Was that your power?" Jamie asked. Evan nodded glumly.
"I can't really control them all the time – good thing Jean's always around, right Jean?" Evan said brightly, but Jean merely 'humphed'.
"That's the thing, Evan; I won't always be around with you, and you don't seem to realize the possible consequences of that!" Jean stormed off with a frustrated look on her face. Evan merely shrugged, the motion making Bobby duck quickly.
"Man, I need to get me some moo juice." said Evan. "Good luck with the midgets, Scott!"
"Hey!" Jubilee cried out, but Evan ran off with stars in his eyes dreaming of his beloved moo juice. Scott merely sighed from the long delay and stepped inside the elevator that had been lying in open the entire time. Just as everyone was about to follow, Sam coughed. A chunk of his hair close to his scalp was being held hostage by a particularly large spike pinned up on the wall. "Could somebahdy help meh please?"
After the dubbed 'hair incident', the now-paranoid-with-fear X-kids timidly followed Scott into the elevator and down. A very long, long way down. Halfway, Jamie remembered that he had claustrophobia, and started freaking out and running into things. Like Scott's butt, for example. But after all that mayhem, the elevator door opened, and everyone ran out, Jamie in tow.
"Alright guys; welcome to the Danger Room. Don't wander too far out from the entrance, or else you'll get caught up in the middle of the session." Scott pointed, and everyone followed his finger, where Logan was having his own bit of fun for the remaining 6 minutes of the session. Suddenly, a blur of blue and black spandex flashed past the recruits' eyes, and hurtled towards Ray. He freaked and put his hands in front of him, but the blur merely went through him. It was the oddest feeling Ray had ever experienced.
"Oh, man! I'm like, so sorry for being late, Mr. Logan, but Kurt was like, totally harassing me for a sandwich -"
Logan sniffed in the air for smoke. "Where is Elf, anyways?"
Kitty 'tutted' and crossed her arms. "Probably raiding the fridge for, like, ham or something." She pretended to gag.
As Scott tore their attention away from the drama unfolding to jumpstart into a mind numbing lecture about all the machinery and equipment in the room, Bobby got out a Gameboy from his pocket and began mashing buttons to get Mario to jump over the Goombas. Amara, who was standing behind him, felt curiousity building up inside her. "Let me see." She said bossily to him. Bobby didn't seem to mind the rude tone, probably because he had already gotten deeply absorbed in the game or perhaps it was just because it was a pretty girl, so he leaned over a bit to let Amara see a good angle. But Rahne felt a prick of irritation stab at her like an uncooperative sewing needle. Manners were something that were a bit of a peeve for her; she didn't like them as her nature as a free wolf, but it was a thing that stuck with you when you lived with a strict minister and a withdrawn caretaker woman that shoved the horrible things down her throat as a child.
But by that time, Amara had noticed Rahne staring at her, and glared. "What are you doing? Turn around and pay attention!"
Rahne snorted. "I could say the same for ye, gal. Mind ye manners, and try to say 'please' next time, eh?" Bobby had already fell back into the stupor of playing videogames and had probably already forgotten that Amara had even said anything to him, but Rahne hadn't. And this time, she would make sure the princess wouldn't be allowed to get away with her outright rudeness. No one should be able to.
Amara had had enough of this; she couldn't take this impudence any longer. Was this how they treated royalty, then? In this so-called great country of freedom and wealth and new beginnings? The first thing tomorrow, she would have one of those telepathic servants around the Institute somehow contact her father in Nova Roma, and she would get one of those awful giant steel flying contraptions straight back home. But first, a lesson had to be taught; a mark, left by a Nova Roma royal princess. She was above fist fights, surely? But this Scot's cheeky tongue had earned her it.
Coldly, she said, "I don't need to listen to such a disrespectful tramp." Amara raised her hand to slap Rahne, but the she-wolf was faster, moving her head at the right time. Apparently, Rahne had had enough as well. She crouched down and bent her knees in a dog-like position, and pounced.
Nobody even noticed that she was falling; falling backwards to hit the cold, metallic ground. Rahne, in wolf form, was on top of her. The large paws that were bigger than that of a dog's were on her chest, close to her neck, and had knocked the breath out of her upon impact. Then, even more impact; Amara's back hit painfully to the ground with a body on top of hers, and slid backwards for about 3 or 4 feet.
Someone had started to scream; it was either Kitty's or Jubilee's, as Tabitha seemed the unlikely type to freak out in a situation. Amara lifted her head to see why they were screaming, and widened her eyes. A large, ominous-looking black – thing – was pointing at her head. The point glowed a strange-colored red that was almost transparent, but not; and it didn't look to be friendly. With a start, Amara realized what it could be: a gun. One of those that had killed off many, more primitive, tribes in South America that were similar to Nova Roma. She had seen rough drawings of these, but this one looked much more advanced, which scared her. But did she have time to be scared, seconds before she was going to die?
The wolf on top of her had jumped off and was now tugging desperately at Amara's shirt to pull her out of range, but the gun was merely following her movement. The now charged-up gun fired, and Amara closed her eyes in blind fear. She felt two oddly warm hands seize her, pick her up. The next moment she knew, the strangest feeling was going through her; something close to dizziness and almost nausea mixed with a tense, powerful energy that was moving within her, as if she had entered a black hole and came back.
"Oh, thank God, Kurt." said someone. Amara opened her eyes, and screamed.
-----
Nobody had screamed at Kurt for a long, long time now. Kurt realized this as he sat, perched on the balcony like a strange large cat about to take off into the sky and plummet. Oh, sure, Kitty occasionally screamed at him after he gagged on one of her muffins and quickly tossed it behind him; and Rogue screamed at him that one time when one of his carelessly tossed muffins bonked her right in the head and knocked her temporarily unconscious, but nobody screamed at his appearance anymore. He had gotten far too used to it, far too comfortable about it; what happened to that pensive him, the one who lived in Germany and always hid inside his parents' cottage, for fear of going outside and seeing people stare, point, and hiss at him, or the worst of all, cringe.
What did I expect? Kurt thought bitterly to himself. Had he blinded himself by wearing that holowatch so often that he had forgotten what he was? No, surely not – there were too many dreams, too many memories about infants screaming blood murder with their tiny lungs at the sight of him, too many burns and scars from those all too familiar pitchforks and dull-pointed butcher knives. Too much blue.
In an instance of frenzied berserk rage, he clawed wildly at his arm. Too much blue, too much blue… one strike at a time, he scratched away skin and blue and fur with grim determination. Still too blue, still too blue… his arm grew raw and pink and fleshy, like the pouchy red cheeks of an old man weathered by age and wear, veins decorating his skin in the inimitable mark of elderliness. Blood crept out of his skin like slowly crawling insects out of a hive, and tingled his harsh flesh with a smarting pain that left him hurt and satisfied at the same time.
Eventually, his arm tired out from his reckless anger, and fell limply at his side. The other one that was mottled with bits of blue and red and broken skin was still raised into the air like some kind of sick trophy that was being held up by a proud conqueror. But eventually, that, too, fell down to his sides lifelessly, having given up. On what it had given up, Kurt wasn't exactly sure.
"Kurt?" A soft voice spoke from behind him. Many occasions before, when Kurt's holowatch went on a spontaneous fritz and a human bystander was just lucky enough to happen their eyes on him, and after the Professor performed an easy mind wipe, Kitty would find him here just outside of his room, lamenting his soul and pitying his entire life ahead and behind of him. Kitty would snap it out of him, or maybe hug him and speak to him in a soothing voice, but that was only before Kurt would remember how Kitty had reacted when she first saw him, and then all her efforts would be futile until morning, when he had gotten out of his self-angst and back to his normal, lively him. This time though, it wasn't Kitty. Kurt knew who it was, and knowing who it was made him want to port out of there. Instead, he pretended to be in intense focus on peeling a little bit of skin from the corner of where his rampage had taken place.
A deep, heavy breath. "I'm very sorry, Kurt." The voice was stiff and nervous, as if the speaker had never apologized before. "I…" She trailed off when Kurt slowly turned around and fixed one gold eye on her. Her head lowered, and she looked down, embarrassed and ashamed. That was what most people would do, and that was exactly what would make Kurt feel even worse at the time. It made him feel as if they didn't want to look at him; were repulsed, or frightened. Kurt knew this wasn't the truth, but he couldn't help it; that was how he felt.
"Yeah, vell, don't be. I should be used to it by now." Kurt said. Ouch. He saw Amara flinch at the harshly said words, and immediately felt guilty, but not before a strong feeling of satisfaction at making her uncomfortable. This satisfaction soon turned into pure sullen anger in a matter of seconds in which silence passed slowly between the two teenagers. Amara opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it a second later, looking tremendously uncomfortable and fidgety.
"Were you always like that?" Amara blushed when Kurt stared at her again, and reworded it, speaking thickly and stumbling over her words. "I – i mean, did you always look so…"
"Blue? And furry?" Kurt laughed humorlessly. "Ja, actually. Zis vatch is just a disguise. Mein mutti is blue, too - sometimes. Family resemblance, and all that." His tone switched almost instantly, to a darker, hollow voice. "Vell, she says so, anyvays."
The sentence only confused the heck out of Amara, and Kurt, catching her clueless look, said dryly, "You'll find out soon enough, freulein. Mutti is not a very inconspicuous person, even if she wants to be."
"I don't want to find out. I want to go back home, and forget everything." Amara sighed. "I don't belong here. This place is so different from home, so foreign…I feel like an alien."
Kurt grinned, and Amara caught a glimpse of sharp teeth that glinted in the light. "I zink zat is vhy ve are all here, Amara. Zat is your name, right?" Amara nodded, and at that moment, noted his arm with a start.
"Did you do that to yourself?" Amara shrieked. Kurt looked away. "Ja." He said in a low voice. "It's nothing." Amara scoffed. "I'm sure it is." The German native tilted his head and offered her a probing look with his yellow eyes that seemed to be staring straight through her and inside. That frightened Amara more than his demonic eye color; that he might be able to read her emotions, completely see her. "You are zhe one from Nova Roma, huh?" Kurt said softly.
Amara remembered her dignity at that moment, and lifted her head as customary. "Princess of Nova Roma, actually." She said proudly, drawing herself up. Kurt laughed at her; genuinely laughed, and Amara reddened momentarily with anger, before realizing she was here to apologize, not blow up, and smiled feebly. Kurt jumped off the balcony with a dancer's grace, Amara noted with surprise, and flaunted a showy bow that ended in a flourish of his tail. It was better than any suitor in Nova Roma's. He offered her a hand – a two-fingered, furry blue hand. But Amara shocked herself by not even recoiling or flinching a bit, taking the extended hand and showed off her best curtsy, giggling with pleasure. He kissed her hand with exaggerated etiquette, and grinned again, flashing that devilish smile.
"Would you care for a dance, my lady?" Kurt whispered, and twirled her around with his hand without waiting for an answer. Amara followed the leading spin of their entwined hands, and the two fell into a step that eased into a natural waltz. It still astonished Amara at the effortless attitude of Kurt's movement, and the grace he displayed with his oddly shaped feet – paws – whatever. Then, Kurt took them off into an endless repetition of elegant spins that made Amara's long hair twirl about her shoulders. She was certain that the high feeling in her gut was out of pleasure and delight; the most she had taken in since she had come to this country. She was also certain that the moment that they stopped twirling, Amara would feel dizzy and sick. But she didn't, when they halted at the door of Kurt's room. Kurt stepped back, and raised her hand to his face and brought it to his lips once more. Amara reveled in the momentary feeling of soft fur - the softest kind of fur in the world, probably – brushing her skin, before he dropped it and grinned – he always looked like he was grinning deviously, even if he was smiling in the nicest possible way. His teeth made it look that way. His arm that was holding her revealed a close view of the raw fleshy tissue covered in coarsely dried blood. She felt a pang of guilt; something she hadn't felt for a rather long time.
"Apology accepted, Königstochter." Kurt said, and closed the door. [3]
Amara took a deep breath like she had done upon entering Kurt's room. In the very least, she accomplished what she had set out to do. And she had learned something that almost every girl learned after meeting Kurt: German accents actually are sexy. [4]
[1] – I just find it funny that never once, in the entire series, did they mention Kitty being Jewish. Did they just randomly decide she'd be one in that 'On Angel's Wings' episode? I'd much rather see the Brotherhood stealing a Christmas tree and Fred being rushed off to the emergency room from eating too much tinsel than Kitty lighting a menorah. What? I'm just saying what we all want!
[2] – *singing* He was a sk8er boi, she said see ya later boi… ACK! *gets mauled by skateboards and Black Sabbath guitars*
[3] – Königstochter: Basically translates to princess, according to mein schwester's German dictionary. Okay, there was also Prinzessin in there, but I think Königstochter sounds way cooler.
[4] – Umm, not really. There was this German exchange student at my school, and he spit a lot. I dunno; maybe that was just his thing. I'm just trying to prove the point that Kurt really is kind of a special guy, at least in my opinion. He knows how to make a girl feel special. I might possibly be drawing more from comic verse than anything, but who cares? Certainly not the hordes of Kurt fan girls, am I right? Now, Pietro and Remy fan girls, on the other hand – they're much more rabid and scary…
Closing A/N: So…how 'bout that brief Amara/Rahne catfight, eh guys? See, I DO listen to y'all! At least, those of you who said that Rahne and Amara wouldn't get along any better than Amara and Jubilee would. So consider this encouragement to contribute! But be warned; if you downright insult me, my monkey sponge will come after you…and so will RUSSELL, THE TALKING BANANA!! Or maybe even Chester, the child molester. (who lives in a box in the swamplands near my house.)* Erg… ignore me. Now. Before you all go insane. NOOGLE-DEE-DOOGLE-DEE-DOO!!!
* - all three of those listed entities/talking inanimate objects/fake real-life people are my muses. Obey them now, and you will be left alone during my conquest for world domination. Heck, you might even be awarded with the title of Court Sanitation Coordinator! …AKA king of garbage men.
Fun Fact: Eiffel 65 – the music artist(s) that is featured in this chapter, apparently is one of Bobby's favorite bands, according to a bio I read somewhere. FURR-EEKY!!
2nd Fun Fact: Did You Know?: Ronald McDonald once had a homoerotic fixation with the Hamburgler. (I kid, I kid. It was actually with the massive purple blob.)