File 01: Hello and Welcome
Legal notes:
#include stddisc.h
Authour notes:
I'd been meaning for a while to throw the proverbial hat into the Misfitverse-ficion ring. All that had been needed was a specific point of inspiration, something which could interact with a new character to make life for Joe, X-Man, and Misfit alike... interesting. So, as they say, props to Red Witch for (aside from the whole universe concept in the first place) providing the spark (no I am not going to tell you what it is; you'll see soon enough!) and L1701E for giving that spark kindling and helping to fan it into a (hopefully) proper fire.
Gunbarrel and Hardcase blinked in unision at the sound, and looked over just in time to see the sheet-metal silhouette target quiver from another hit to its heavily dinged 'head'. While the former nodded his approval of the shooter's aim, Hardcase's reaction was a bit different.
"That's the fifth one," he yelled over the radio to the other Joes - Quick-Kick, Jester, Kicker, and Firestorm - who were searching the field. "Haven't you found him yet?!" Unsurprisingly and annoyingly, that elicited an almost-unanimous chorous of negatives.
"I found something!"
"What's that, Jester?" Malibu Base's third-in-command prayed that said Joe hadn't chosen now to play another prank.
"It's a Snickers wrapper. He had a snack here, sir, and..."
"What?"
"There's some writing on the inside; it reads... 'Ummm, no'." Which revelation caused Hardcase to scowl and Gunbarrel to snicker; yet another 'headshot' brought a quick end to both activities.
The marksman shook his head. "I think that'll do."
"Well, okay." Hardcase switched the radio to a different frequency. "Okay, that's it. Everyone off the field."
"So where'd we find this guy, again?" asked Kicker, now that the Joes were clustered around the Humvee.
Jester shrugged. "I heard some friend of the General recommended him..."
One of Whithalf's friends? Oh, great... "At least he's nothing like you." Hardcase scowled at the comedian. "One of you is... hey where is he, anyways?"
That question was answered by the rustle of grass at the edge of the clearing. The ghillie-suit-wearing sniper, rifle in one hand, stepped foward. Removed helmet and camouflage 'hood', came to attention and snapped Hardcase a salute.
"Right here, sir."
"Do you know what the fine for littering is in the state of California?"
"Yes, sir."
"Mm-hmm. Get yourself cleaned up, you're gonna meet your new squadmates."
When, out of sheer curiousity, Alison and Rahne had asked Wipe-Out where Firestorm, Jester, and Hardcase had gone - Malibu Base had been rather quiet that day, after all - the SEAL had said something about evaluations. Both girls had taken that to refer to another Joe, and said as much to the other Misfits; they, in turn, had spent much of the afternoon in speculation. Well, once one discounted the latest in Toshiro and Kyle's seemingly endless arguments; and Ace just shaking his head at the latest round of correspondence he'd received from a certain quartet of girls, that is.
"Hey, guys." Jester wandered in while they were watching Kyle and Toshiro play pool - apparently as a way of settling some argument or other.
"'Sup, J-dawg?"
"Yeah, the Thunderbolt wants to know if the new guy made the cut."
"Yes." It took a moment for the assembled youths to register that the speaker was not Jester, but rather the young man standing next to him.
Said newcomer was roughly Scott Summers' size, albeit sporting a build which spoke of more regular and intensive exercise than the X-Man field leader seemed to get. Silver eyes studied each of them in turn from underneath eyebrows as purple as the rest of his hair... not that the Misfits found either of those traits unusual; what had seized their collective notice was the fact of his wearing jungle-camo 'utilities' (complete with matching cap tucked under an arm), olive webbing with a few pouches, and black boots. "Yes," he said, "I did make the cut, and hello. It seems we're going to be working together."
"Um, hi." Rahne's next words gave voice to the next question on everyone's mind, incidentally beating Kyle and Ace to it. "What's your name?"
"Chance Sergeivich Chekov. And you must be Rahne Sinclair."
"H-how'd you know?"
"Recall the incident with that... Sentinel, I believe it's called... back in Bayville. That sparked a good deal of media focus on the town, and in particular on the students of the Xavier Institute."
"Oh." Most of which attention, the Scottish girl remembered, had been - and, indeed, still was - less than friendly.
"You're gonna like it here, C," Terrell was saying after Jester had wandered off, introductions had been made, and Chance shown his room. "Sure, we train pretty hard - you look like you're used to that, right? - but the Joes're cool for the most part. Plus, there're the great beaches..."
"Just like home." Which momentarily derailed the speedster's train of thought.
"Home? I didn't know Russia had beaches."
Chance actually smiled, briefly. "Hawaii does."
"And I'm sure you'll find the girls here just as fine. Say, I could show you the nightlife around here...?"
"So he can watch you set a new record for most slaps received in a single hour, mate?"
"Ha-ha, Tommy."
"Well, if anyone's going to show the new guy how to charm the ladies, I'd think it'd be someone who actually knows what they're doing."
"It's a gift," Ace Starr chimed in from a nearby beanbag. He looked Chance over. "Looks like someone has a career goal in mind."
"Yes, I do."
"If you're going to hit it off with the chicks, I think you'd better find something more, y'know, current." Terrell spread his arms, showing off his own wardrobe.
Chance arched an eyebrow. "That... is not me."
"Yeah, I can't really see you in a basketball jersey and jeans." Athena laughed.
"I'm telling you, image is everything. You've gotta show them that you're with it, or they won't even give you... the time.. of..." The African-American speedster trailed off, realizing that the expression on Chance's face effectively said 'I'm-not-buying-it'.
"Question: assuming you're telling the truth, that you have to put up the 'right image' to interest the girls... well, that means they're not necessarily interested in you per se, yes?"
"Um, well..." Terrell hadn't expected that, didn't have an answer for it. It didn't help that Athena was chuckling, or that Chance was waiting for that answer, an expectant smile curling his lips.
"And if that's true," Chance pressed on, "wouldn't that make the girls in question poor long-term choices?" By now, this particular contest had become the center of attention - even Toshiro and Kyle had pretty much forgotten about their pool game, as eager as anyone else to see how - or if - Terrell would get out of the hole he'd dug himself. This was a line of logic the speedster had never considered, not even peripherally, and he was being asked to do so, and right now... a state of affairs which was not sitting well.
"You've never had a girlfriend, have you?" It was meant as a barb; the answer, however, gave no indication of recognizing the question as anything of the sort.
"Yes, never." Which to Rahne seemed almost a shame; surely someone who was smart and cute would've found one by now, or at least have some girls anxious to be in that position. The fact of Chance looking like he'd be more at home on a military base than any of the many social events which punctuated high school life wasn't that big a deterrent, was it?
"Think about it, Terrell. In the meantime, excuse me; ET phone home." With that Chance wandered off to make use of a computer.
"Oooh." Tommy reached out to pat Terrell on a shoulder; pulling his hand back at the last second, he made a show of blowing on his fingers. "Extra crispy," he pronounced, to the others' amusement.
It was Kyle who brought up the next obvious question. "Yeah, but the Thunderbolt wants to know if he can fight as well as he can talk."
"I would not be surprised if he can. The mind, after all, is the first weapon, and the warrior who masters it is on his way to excellence with all others."
"Nobody asked you, Sushi!"
Only a warning glare from Athena kept the dispute from escalating beyond words.
Indeed, the West Coast Misfits learned several things about their new member over the next several days. The biggest such discovery - made more so by its not having been asked about until then - was that like Daniel Webber on the East Coast team, Chance did not have an X-Gene; credit for the unusual hair and eye coloration could be laid squarely at the feet of a one-in-some-millions genetic confluence. Second, that the utilities were not for show: military service really was his major career goal.
What gave them reason for a degree of unease, though was Jester's finally relating the events that had led to Chance's earning his place on the team. While they could understand and even respect the discipline reaching that level of skill had required, the idea of someone their age being as proficient and comfortable with firearms as any soldier in active service just did not seem in their worldview to sit quite right.
Going hand-in-hand with that was another fact: stealth and infiltration were Chance's other strong suits. One night exercise challenged him with stealing important documents from a ship at dock while remaining undetected. .. which, of course, the other Misfits were supposed to guard. None of them would soon forget just how that had played out: the exercise's conclusion found the 'documents' gone and Kyle (whose turn it had been at the time to stand guard inside the room with said documents) 'dead'. And nobody else - not even Athena, Ace, Rahne, or Tommy, with their enhanced senses - had had the first clue that something was amiss until Theresa had gone to take up her shift inside.
"It's a good thing," Tommy had said afterwards, "that he's on our side." Kyle's reaction, rightfully attributed to being the one who'd 'died' with no warning whatsoever before the hand clapped over his mouth and the rubber knife pressed to the back of his neck, was... louder, and somewhat less even-handed. Had that been for-real, Wipe-Out explained, the blade would've slid in and severed the spinal cord just where it left the base of the skull, making for a quick, quiet, and relatively clean demise.
Chance didn't gloat about it, though (a good thing in everyone's books); rather, he seemed to think his capability at such things perfectly normal (which proved to not be exactly a calming thing).
All of which had led to speculation as to what sort of parents would raise a son with that particular skill set, a question not really answered when Chance explained that his father had come from Russia, back when it was the nexus of the Soviet Union, and was now a consultant. What Sergei Iosifovich had done before leaving the USSR, and what sort of 'consulting' he was involved in now, were lines of inquiry politely - but firmly - brought to a quick end. This 'information gap' perhaps explained Kyle's opinion that Chance was, in fact, the result of a government program similar to the Hydra effort which had spawned Athena.
They also discovered that his taste in arcade games gravitated, to no one's surprise, towards the likes of the Silent Scope and Virtua Cop series. While the other Misfits were not surprised that he excelled at those games, watching him prove that apparently proved highly disturbing to everyone else, including the manager and two police officers who happened to be killing some off-duty time playing Soul Calibur II.
After-action notes:
-Russian naming conventions:
it is common in Russia for someone's middle name to be a derivation of their father's;
using an individual's first and middle name is a common semiformal means of addressing/reference
That clarified, I will concede that the last third or so of this chapter could stand for some fleshing out (maybe in a 'special edition'?), but it does serve to lay down some basic concepts opportunity for whose elaboration will come in good order.
And yes, I know that 'stddisc.h' is supposed to have an underscore between 'std' and 'disc', and be enclosed in angle brackets;I haven't figured out how to do so without their being seen as part of an HTML tag.
Coming in File 02: 'Enter Temnota'...
Chance has a plan in mind whose successful accomplishment promises no end of headaches for the Hellfire Club; all he has to do is take a trip to Boston, infiltrate the Massachussetts Academy, and turn a certain computer on for a short period of time. Simple, yes?
Yes, except that Kyle, having entirely the wrong idea as to the nature of the op, invited himself along...