Drei
Part 9
By Mieren
And find out the hard way the Brotherhood did. Pietro was safe since no one knew where he was. Toad similarly made himself scarce, a bit smarter than his comrades gave him credit for.
Luckily for everyone involved, the Wagners had abandoned their fascination with dangerous chemicals. Unfortunately, they now seemed enraptured with explosives. And noodles. No one ever quite figured out how they did it, but the fuzzy group managed to collect over eleven hundred pounds of rancid pasta and a large amount of what Beast and Forge later insisted was C4. The result was a noodle bomb that sent pasta flying over a mile into the air and in every direction known to mankind. The city of Bayville rained noodles for ten minutes.
The police department nearly went insane. After a mob of city folk descended on them with torches and pitchforks, they decided to convict anyone they found on the noodle bomb just to placate the masses. A quick investigation, involving them walking to the center of the blast radius, found them at the Boardinghouse. Tabby, Fred and Lance were immediately arrested.
Needless to say, the day royally sucked for anyone who had a convertible with the top down at that particular time. Joggers had to spend hours in the shower to get rid of the stench. The schools were closed. The roads were closed. The city was infested with endless pigeons after a free meal. The carwash industry made a record profit that week.
Everyone knew that the blue fuzzballs were responsible, but no one could actually prove it. There was no concrete evidence that anyone could find or was even willing to look for in the first place for fear of drawing the wrath of the blue ones. The professor was unable to read the chaos of their joint minds, so he couldn't pin them either. As a result, Xavier was unable to punish them. For that stunt anyways. Once he was back down to one person, he would be spending almost every waking hour in the Danger Room. Storm wanted to drag them kicking and screaming to train so they would burn off some energy, but decided against it since they were still so uncoordinated. She didn't want them to get hurt in the Danger Room. If they were injured, she was going to do it herself.
* * *
The Nightcrawler clones were clustered in their room. Somehow or another, they all managed to fit in there. Sleeping bags were everywhere. Needless to say, Sechs got the bed. In deference to the complaints they had received from the rest of the residents of the mansion, they had stopped communicating with each other mentally. The pseudo telepathic ability seemed to be creeping everyone out, so they were speaking normally to each other. That had been the easiest of their tasks.
They were busy relearning how to fine-tune their movements without copying each other. Each fuzzy one was trying to do something different simultaneously. One was on the computer, typing. Another was trying to catch pieces of candy that a third was lobbing at him. Four more were alternating between mock fighting and various gymnastics. One was trying to build a tower out of cards and had made it to eight levels when he accidentally knocked everything down, so he started over.
The final fuzzy, the ringleader Sechs, was doing his best to mess the others up. He was projecting his thoughts clearly and making drastic movements that would be extremely counterproductive to anything the others were doing. He was to blame for the typing errors, the fuzzy pyramid collapse, the cards falling and a piece of chocolate up a nose.
Slowly but surely, they were learning to function even with severe mental interference, only taking breaks to raid the kitchen at mealtimes and four or five times between each. The fuzzballs had reached a point of coordination that was a little better than that of the average person. They kept working on it, determined to get to the superhuman agility and dexterity that Kurt was famous for. After all, unless they were functioning perfectly, some of the things they were planning would be next to impossible.
"Hey!" the Kurt at the computer exclaimed. "They had to release the Brotherhood that they arrested. Couldn't prove that they did it."
"They didn't," another commented wryly.
"Either way, they're out," Sechs said, amused. "That means we owe them a visit."
"We're not quite up to challenging them physically yet."
"We can't 'port yet."
"Doesn't matter," Sechs interrupted. "We outnumber them." At that notion, they began to get into the mood to terrorize.
"Pietro has gone somewhere. Toad is hiding from us. It's just Boom Boom, Blob and Avalanche."
"Boom Boom won't hurt us. I think…"
"Blob couldn't catch any of us if his life depended on it."
"And Avalanche…"
"We'll hogtie him and put him on the roof."
"And shave his head."
"And wax his butt crack."
Eight heads turned to face the source of the last comment.
"Wax?"
"Are you insane?"
"Hello? Fur? You remember the fur? Wax and fur do not mix."
"Slime and fur don't mix either. Good thing Toad's gone."
"Tonight then?"
"Ja. Forge is pushing to get us to use his thing and 'port again."
"We have to put the fear of blue into them before Forge gets to us."
"Let's get 'em."
A train of blue fuzziness crept out through the window and disappeared into the night.
To Be Continued…
I figured that the last section was too short so I worked this up on a study break. Thought that two ultra short sections should be as good as one normal one. Right? R&R!