Le Disclaimer: If it was mine, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction, now would I? Let us ponder this, and come back to see if I really do own anything, shall we?
Full Summary: This is set in a slight AU. The world knows about mutants, and after a large initial scare, a series of meetings will be held to seek out peace between the two races, although there are quite a few people who still hate and loath mutants of all kinds. There have also been questions in the government about weather mutants should be used to have DNA taken from them to create strong armies and to support law enforcement.
In the general chaos, the X-team is still safe in the walls of the institute, and have not yet been found out. However, a worker for human rights is beginning to think that the school founded by the famous Professor Xavier might actually be a home for mutants, and is doing his best to prove it. What he mainly wants is to take the DNA of these 'freaks', and process it to make a 'Mutant Serum' that will give a mutant power to whoever has it injected into their bodies. He believes that he will make a fortune off of this, and would also be able to control the population of mutants, as he could also make a drug to erase the powers of mutants.
Chapter Rating: G
Chapter Length: 2953 Words, 5 Pages
Key: Telepathic thought> Flashbacks and letters "Speech" SCENE CHANGE AN Authors Note /AN
Prologue
Let the story begin: (Finally!)
The man sitting in front of the mirror would not be given a second glance on the fast-paced streets of New York. His short hair that was nearly gone had a limp over-comb, and was a dull brown in color. His face was not one that would be classed as good-looking, but simply respectable. His wardrobe consisted of suits, ties and finely polished dress shoes. His ever-constant companion was a black leather briefcase, not faded and old, but sharp with the brand-new-book smell still lingering around it.
His eyes were the only things about him that would make you stop. They were the same dull brown as his disappearing hair, but could pierce your defenses and made you cringe if he looked at you. It made you think that he could read your thoughts, and that he had your mind opened and he could scan though it, opening it at his will to find out what you were thinking.
The room he was in was orderly and neat, just the way he liked it. On the desk he was sitting at there was a speech written out in sharp black ink on a clean white background of paper. Next to that was a brown plastic comb, and on the opposite side were stacked a few hardback books with non-worn edges. Nothing he owned was worn out. A small cabinet made of polished cherry with glass windows next to the mirror held a myriad of expensive watches, ranging from gold with crystal arms and blue diamond numbers set in Roman numerals to platinum with pure rose quartz dots where the numbers should be.
From this he selected the largest and most flashy, the gold and crystal one, and attached it to his right wrist. He then picked up the three pages of notes and the speech, and flipped through it again, then adjusted the small microphone that was attached to the collar of his pinstriped gray suit. Reaching up, he loosened the blue and brown stripped tie around his neck, then tightened it again. Glancing at the mirror once more, he turned and opened the door to the small room and stepped out, still holding the papers.
He turned left, heading down the white hallway, and walked until the hall stopped, and instead he was inside a large public room with glossy black marble flooring that was streaked with gold, the ceiling high and made out of glass. In the center of this large cubicle stood a fountain made of four life-sized solid bronze dolphins, vertical, not down, and turned outward, with jets of water bubbling around them.
As soon as he made his way out of the hall, the mass of smartly dressed men and women there called out his name and rushed to greet him.
"Why hello there Alex! Good to see you again..."
"Mr. Holdren! What an honor to finally meet you! You don't know how much..."
"...I've talked to the mayor myself you know, he seems to think..."
"...If you don't mind it too much, I would be greatly honored if you could meet me..."
"Sir, the we need you in the office now, if you don't mind just coming this way..."
Glad at a chance to escape the tight cage the people had made around him, he smiled and shook hands while saying, "Just send your number to my secretary", "Sorry, but I must leave now, but I'll be more then pleased to get back to you", and "Why John old friend! Wish I could chat with you more, but I really have to go. How about lunch tomorrow?"
Finally he pushed his way out of the group, and followed the attendant to another door, that lead to the stage.
She was busy filling him in on some extra last minuet tips and reminding him that he was having lunch with his father the next day.
"I know," he snapped. "I have to be polite, and I can just make a large deal out of it tomorrow and set a date for later."
At this the aide stiffened a bit, and muttered something along the lines of 'Bloody Politician' and told him that he would be on in five minuets, and that he needed to scan his card for approval.
After this she left to ward of the many guests that wanted to have a short chat with the man that was standing in the room.
He grumbled about the service, then reached into his deep pockets and drew out a wallet. From this he found a small card, not unlike an ATM card. He walked over to the door and slid the plastic through a slot next to it on the wall, then tapped a few numbers and gave it a voice-recognition sample. The screen read as follows:
Current Occupation: Senator of New York
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 5 foot 7
Weight: 194 Lbs.
This flashed on and off a few times, then a female mechanical voice stated "Card cleared. Thank you for choosing Xioware Incorporated for your security..."
But the rest of this he didn't listen to, and instead waited for the door to open. It did, and he walked out onto a large stage raised above benches that could hold several hundred people, and above that a balcony that could hold the same as the floor seats was stationed. These seats were quickly filling up; the people that filtered into the room were first checked for their tickets at the door. He set his things down at a podium, his speech, and a few stacks of index cards with notes and tips on them. A water bottle was already there. At this time the ever-growing crowd noticed his arrival, and started clapping and cheering. He waved, and spoke a little.
"Yes, thank you, thank you, you're all too kind, really... Ahh, well, I am here a bit early, I know, but I like to get on stage before the debate starts, it lets me get to know the audience more..."
At this another wave of applause rang forth.
"Well, all I can say now is that I hope that both sides are fair in the discussion, and that we both leave with a little more then we started with."
Again cheering rained out, and he briefly turned his attention to the people who were still entering the room. He saw a bald man in a wheel-chair that was pushed by a brown-haired younger man with some sort of red glasses on, followed by an African-skinned woman with white hair and a red-haired fair-skinned girl that looked to be the same age as the chap pushing the chair.
His interest lost, he stepped down from the podium, then descended to the seating area using the steps on the stage and started chatting with the public.
MEANWHILE
A few kids were laying on the floor playing Monopoly, while others were staring at a TV. Set that showed a blonde reporter yammering away into a microphone, while a small brunet teen was chatting away with a Goth-looking girl who was apparently not listening.
"Hey, like, did you know what 'Politics' means Rogue?"
"Hmm? Naw, what?"
"Like, Poli, meaning many, and Tics, meaning blood sucking parasites! Isn't that, like, so funny?!"
"Sure Kitty, sure..."
"Hey, the debate's starting! Quiet everyone!"
The last comment was from a boy named Bobby.
The TV. switched to a camera that was facing a stage. Two men were on it, one with brown hair and eyes, the other with thick black hair and blue eyes. A marquee at the bottom of the screen read, "Senator Alex Holdren and the Mayor of NY, Mr. Azazel Delta".
MEANWHILE
The professor sat at the back, along with Scott, Jean and Ororo. The debate at hand had a simple enough topic, the mutants and how to deal with them. But Prof. X knew that it was much more detailed then that, and watched with interest the happening on stage.
"I believe, Mr. Azazel, that mutants are indeed a threat to our country. They have uncontrollable powers that could quite possibly cause extreme damage to those around them."
At this, Scott felt a wave of anger spread through him. Most all the mutants he knew could control their power, besides him and Rogue.
"Your point is a good one Senator, but from what I know the main population of mutants have good, if not perfect, control over their abilities. We should not treat these people as animals just because they have been born with DNA that differs from ours."
"Yes, that is true. Most of them. But it is also true that this other group, no mater how small the percentage, is still a looming danger."
"I can understand your reasoning, Senator, but you must then have a plan to help this group."
"As of late, there has been no known way to help these mutants control their power. However, this is mainly because we have not been able to research them as much as wished. If you would allow me, Mr. Azazel, I wish to give the definition of the mutants we have today. They are usually born without any trace of mutation at all, and it usually appears when an extreme situation is placed against a child or adolescent, which pushes them to use their powers by accident. This 'situation' is almost always life-threatening. After this, their abilities are generally displayed when strong emotion overcomes the mutant, and only very experienced mutants can control it. Therefore control of their powers is generally controlled by self-training. However, this 'self-training' may not be enough, as the process is usually long and hard. Until we can find a way to speed up this process, we will most likely have to contain the mutants in a government facility."
Again Scott cringed. 'Contain the mutants in a government facility'. That meant rounding up all mutants who couldn't past a most-likely extreme test and putting them in a souped-up prison.
"Your plan is not unjust. In fact, researching and finding a way to speed the controlling process would be an excellent idea, and I do not doubt that some mutants themselves would welcome a helping source for containment of their abilities. However, there are a few snags in your problem. Until a 'cure', as you may call it, is found, containing all mutants who cannot control their power in a government controlled facility may be extremely hard. For one thing, how would we find and filter all mutants? We would have to go through almost every mutant in the country, test them, and place them in suitable locations that would not prohibit their normal activities greatly. This would take years and millions of dollars to complete."
"This is slightly true, but I feel that if it is required to keep our country safe then we should follow this course of action...."
MEANWHILE, THE DEBATE ENDED
AN Meanwhile the people reading Rustic Dragonfly's story were getting really bored. So she decided that it would be extremely wise to stop writing the debate that she isn't having fun righting anyway and move on, because she feels that she has blabbered enough. Also, she will stop writing in the second-person point of view. And I will tell you what the was about now, or I will forget it later. Pure Rose Quartz is very rare, and so it would be expensive.
Sorry this chapter sucked so badly so far, I was just feeling like writing so formally. So I'll stop and get back to the institute and start writing about something that isn't the debate. And just so that I don't have to put it in the story somewhere, the debate ended at the odds slightly leaning towards Alex Holdren, who is the bad guy. And now I shall continue this tomorrow, because I don't feel like finishing it tonight. /AN
MEANWHILE, THE STORY HAS BEEN CONTINUED
Jubilation sighed and flicked the button on the remote, then leaned back on the couch. Logan continued looking at the now-black screen while leaning against the wall. Rogue was still slanted towards the TV, Warren AN The Archangel /AN, who had recently started living with the X-Men for safety reasons, was resting in a chair, in the same position he had been in ever since the program started. He too had a look of deep thought glued to his face. Kurt was hanging from the ceiling, the same way he had been for the entire debate. A young electricity controller was sitting on the flood Indian-style with his chin in his hand, and the same expression as Archangel.
It was clear everyone was thinking hard about the debate.
Just before Remy walked in from the kitchen, Kitty piped up.
"Ok, so, like, who wants to go out to eat?"
Almost every object in the Television room that would not shatter when hitting something hard was in the air, aimed at Kathryn Pride. However, Shadowcat was sitting at just about where the door was. Instinct taking over, she faded out, allowing all those air-born missiles to pass through the door. They would have, too, except that Remy happened to be standing in the way.
Everyone froze. Basically everything in the room was in a big pile on top of what looked like a dismembered foot twitching. And on top of the pile was Jubilation Lee, starting to stand up and rubbing her head.
"Ok, whoever threw me is in for it!" she yelled while glaring at the two strongest men in the room.
Logan glanced at Archangel. Archangel grinned at Logan. Bobby twitched. Electric-boy burst out into laughter.
Then the foot twitched again, and Kitty stood up.
"Who's foot is that?" she questioned, pointed towards the lone body part.
Rogue spared a look at the single voet that was in the massive pile from her new and sudden position on the floor. "I think its Remy's. And who threw the couch?"
Archangel glanced at Logan. Logan grinned at Archangel. Kurt twitched. Electric-boy burst out into a new wave of laughter.
Walking over, the feral gripped the arm of the over-sized chair and started pulling it up, but at that same moment Ororo slammed the front door shut and the Prof. wheeled into the room. Surprised by this, Logan dropped the couch again. There was a slight groan from under the large pile of furniture. Jean, who was talking to Scott, walked in and just then noticed the state the room was in. Sensing that a human life form was under the pile of, well, stuff, she levitated the couch, then started lifting pillows, plastic popcorn bowls, a remote control, and loooots more out of the mass. Quickly Gambit could be seen appearing under the mass.
"Hello, Mr. LeBeau. What brings you to my institute?"
At this, everyone turned to find Professor Xavier, with his face carrying an amused expression.
Slowing sitting up, Remy mumbled something about not being paid enough before remembering he didn't get paid at all, then finally got up. "Uhh... I am not quite sure Monsieur, I was just walking in from the kitchen when the entire room was thrown at me..."
"Excellent, Mr. LeBeau. Now, what brings you to my institute?"
Gambit continued.
"Magnus has instructed me to watch the school, Professor."
"And why is this?" Xavier questioned.
"Ahh, Professor, for when I asked him this same question myself, he gave me but five words as an answer."
"And they were...?" Jean couldn't help herself, she just had to ask, but was reprimanded with a sharp gaze from Prof. X.
Grinning, Remy told her.
She stared at him.
Turning, he whisked out the door, and when Logan spared a glance through Gambit was nowhere to be seen.
MEANWHILE, THE CHAPTER ENDED
No, no, you don't have to tell me, I know you're hooked on it already. And because of your obvious love of my dear story, you shall review. Now. Fingers random blunt object
You can expect the next chapter within 2-3 days. I know this one is only about 5 pages or so, but it looks a lot longer when you're writing it.