Chapter Eleven
Elizabeth and Wanda were in their room writing and listening to some low-volume rock. Due to the sensitive ears in the base, it had to be that way. The door was closed, and the television was off. It had been that way for a few hours, and no one was complaining. Quiet was enjoyed down here.
"Elizabeth, can-I-talk-to-you?"
Both girls glanced at the door, and Wanda rolled her eyes. Elizabeth sighed and strolled over to the slab of wood, turning the knob and opening the door a little. Pietro stood outside, his fingers twitching and his eyes looking at the ever-so-interesting floor.
"What's wrong, Pie?"
He grabbed her wrists softly and pulled her into the hallway, before closing the door. Alone.
"I-was-just-wondering..."
"Yes?"
"Would-you-be-interested-in-going-with-me-out-to-dinner?"
Elizabeth smiled instantly, and Pietro took the chance to glance up at her. She took his arm in hers and nodded.
"Of course, Pietro," she purred.
Pietro's attitude skyrocketed. "Then, shall-we-be-off?"
He heard Wanda snort inside, but he had a date. Pietro didn't care.
I never really understood her, not personally, but none of us did. At the most, I understood her more than anything. Sure, I'm not booksmart like Liz, but one thing I do know is Mimic. I kinda feel sorry for her sometimes. What could she have possibly done to think that she had to protect us. I'm grateful, and all, but I'm curious.
She's been sleeping for two days. I thought she died, but I could still hear her breathing. I wonder what Elizabeth saw that scared her so much. It never seemed to work before. Jim said he got her on the tv. Mimic doesn't like tv. She doesn't like being on the tv either. That's why she was so mad at Jim the other night.
I've been spending the day with Lilian, playing in her forest and trying to help her garden. I'm not a really good gardener, but her garden is really pretty and tolerable of me. The plants are alive, and it's really neat. They bloom in the morning and close at night, just like real flowers, and they are so pretty.
They aren't good to eat though.
Todd and Fred went out with me last night. I tried to show them my favorite place to stay, but Fred couldn't make it to the top of the casino. I carried Todd up there, and we described it to him. I remember when Mimic led me up here the first time. It was before the camps, and one of the few times I had seen the sky. I really want to learn to fly. Mimic can't fly, but she can levitate herself with telekinesis. I want to fly...
My wings itch so bad now, and when I scratch them, they just itch more. I want to stretch them and quench the thirst for air. I hope Mimic knows how to teach me to fly.
I was meant to fly.
Of course Magneto was bent on finding the black mutant that had taken down his entire team. LeBeau gave him all the details, but he couldn't squeeze anything out of Creed. The others gave what they knew, but then again, the entire match lasted just north of five minutes.
The mutant had black skin and white hair, red eyes, and was extremely agile and strong. They had learned of a mutant described as such in the data files of the Mutant Watch. Never captured. Never even shot. Never even close to capture.
Then, they found a weakness.
Light. The creature had been surrounded in the center of Vegas before, and movements were slower and hesitant. Theory of lack of sight in bright light.
The mutant was blind in bright lights. Night was the encounter. Down a dark alley.
Sounded like it fit. But how were they gonna catch this beast?
Perhaps if they drew her into the light, somehow. Into Vegas at night. Of course, that would take a very organized plan. The Mutes' profiles were also in the data files, and it seemed the easiest to catch would be either the mutant known as Horror or Dragon. Or they could send Sabretooth after KO, but then there was the dust cloud..
If they could catch one and bring him or her into the open, the Mimic would be at a loss.
But then what?
Mimic vanished from her nest four days after she had been placed there. Bobby was in a depressed state, and no one really did much around the place. It was also found that Lance was missing as well, probably taken by the Mimic herself. He was the bridge between their parties. Hardly any of the secrets came from the others.
It was very dark that night. The moon was new, and it gave no light itself. They were now on top of the construction site, the highest beam. He was paranoid and scared as hell, but there was the faith that Mimic would not let him fall to his death.
"We have to relocate," she said slowly in her own tongue, making sure he got every since word. "Jim doesn't realize the danger that he's put everyone here in. It may already be too late. We have to relocate as soon as possible."
"Why?" Lance said, trying to balance on the beam and walk closer to her, his arms out for balance.
"Because I said so! Where did you come from?"
"Illinois?"
She became very frustrated. "Where did you come here from?"
The ground shook, and he fell and held onto the bar, screaming.
"Take us there. It is not safe for us here anymore. Take us to your home."
"Mimic, I can't just do that. Mystique will kill us..."
Mimic's eyes suddenly flashed, and her voice got really low. "No, Lance, I will kill you. I'll kill this Mystique. I'll kill your family. I'll make it worse than anything," she hissed, grabbing his arm tightly. "Take us there tomorrow."
Lance tried to force her arm off his, but he did nothing. She released him and retreated back to the end of the beam.
"Mimic, you're scaring me."
She was silent for a few minutes, then her muscles relaxed, and she turned to look at him.
"It is a matter of life and death. Those matters are always scary, Lance."
He sat there in awe, too confused to do anything but agree to transport his group, and help the Mutes go back to Bayville.
Elizabeth and Wanda were in their room writing and listening to some low-volume rock. Due to the sensitive ears in the base, it had to be that way. The door was closed, and the television was off. It had been that way for a few hours, and no one was complaining. Quiet was enjoyed down here.
"Elizabeth, can-I-talk-to-you?"
Both girls glanced at the door, and Wanda rolled her eyes. Elizabeth sighed and strolled over to the slab of wood, turning the knob and opening the door a little. Pietro stood outside, his fingers twitching and his eyes looking at the ever-so-interesting floor.
"What's wrong, Pie?"
He grabbed her wrists softly and pulled her into the hallway, before closing the door. Alone.
"I-was-just-wondering..."
"Yes?"
"Would-you-be-interested-in-going-with-me-out-to-dinner?"
Elizabeth smiled instantly, and Pietro took the chance to glance up at her. She took his arm in hers and nodded.
"Of course, Pietro," she purred.
Pietro's attitude skyrocketed. "Then, shall-we-be-off?"
He heard Wanda snort inside, but he had a date. Pietro didn't care.
I never really understood her, not personally, but none of us did. At the most, I understood her more than anything. Sure, I'm not booksmart like Liz, but one thing I do know is Mimic. I kinda feel sorry for her sometimes. What could she have possibly done to think that she had to protect us. I'm grateful, and all, but I'm curious.
She's been sleeping for two days. I thought she died, but I could still hear her breathing. I wonder what Elizabeth saw that scared her so much. It never seemed to work before. Jim said he got her on the tv. Mimic doesn't like tv. She doesn't like being on the tv either. That's why she was so mad at Jim the other night.
I've been spending the day with Lilian, playing in her forest and trying to help her garden. I'm not a really good gardener, but her garden is really pretty and tolerable of me. The plants are alive, and it's really neat. They bloom in the morning and close at night, just like real flowers, and they are so pretty.
They aren't good to eat though.
Todd and Fred went out with me last night. I tried to show them my favorite place to stay, but Fred couldn't make it to the top of the casino. I carried Todd up there, and we described it to him. I remember when Mimic led me up here the first time. It was before the camps, and one of the few times I had seen the sky. I really want to learn to fly. Mimic can't fly, but she can levitate herself with telekinesis. I want to fly...
My wings itch so bad now, and when I scratch them, they just itch more. I want to stretch them and quench the thirst for air. I hope Mimic knows how to teach me to fly.
I was meant to fly.
Of course Magneto was bent on finding the black mutant that had taken down his entire team. LeBeau gave him all the details, but he couldn't squeeze anything out of Creed. The others gave what they knew, but then again, the entire match lasted just north of five minutes.
The mutant had black skin and white hair, red eyes, and was extremely agile and strong. They had learned of a mutant described as such in the data files of the Mutant Watch. Never captured. Never even shot. Never even close to capture.
Then, they found a weakness.
Light. The creature had been surrounded in the center of Vegas before, and movements were slower and hesitant. Theory of lack of sight in bright light.
The mutant was blind in bright lights. Night was the encounter. Down a dark alley.
Sounded like it fit. But how were they gonna catch this beast?
Perhaps if they drew her into the light, somehow. Into Vegas at night. Of course, that would take a very organized plan. The Mutes' profiles were also in the data files, and it seemed the easiest to catch would be either the mutant known as Horror or Dragon. Or they could send Sabretooth after KO, but then there was the dust cloud..
If they could catch one and bring him or her into the open, the Mimic would be at a loss.
But then what?
Mimic vanished from her nest four days after she had been placed there. Bobby was in a depressed state, and no one really did much around the place. It was also found that Lance was missing as well, probably taken by the Mimic herself. He was the bridge between their parties. Hardly any of the secrets came from the others.
It was very dark that night. The moon was new, and it gave no light itself. They were now on top of the construction site, the highest beam. He was paranoid and scared as hell, but there was the faith that Mimic would not let him fall to his death.
"We have to relocate," she said slowly in her own tongue, making sure he got every since word. "Jim doesn't realize the danger that he's put everyone here in. It may already be too late. We have to relocate as soon as possible."
"Why?" Lance said, trying to balance on the beam and walk closer to her, his arms out for balance.
"Because I said so! Where did you come from?"
"Illinois?"
She became very frustrated. "Where did you come here from?"
The ground shook, and he fell and held onto the bar, screaming.
"Take us there. It is not safe for us here anymore. Take us to your home."
"Mimic, I can't just do that. Mystique will kill us..."
Mimic's eyes suddenly flashed, and her voice got really low. "No, Lance, I will kill you. I'll kill this Mystique. I'll kill your family. I'll make it worse than anything," she hissed, grabbing his arm tightly. "Take us there tomorrow."
Lance tried to force her arm off his, but he did nothing. She released him and retreated back to the end of the beam.
"Mimic, you're scaring me."
She was silent for a few minutes, then her muscles relaxed, and she turned to look at him.
"It is a matter of life and death. Those matters are always scary, Lance."
He sat there in awe, too confused to do anything but agree to transport his group, and help the Mutes go back to Bayville.