Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe
As Aubrey Lowe, freestyle extraordinaire, sped through the water, all she could afford to think about was her strokes. Not how this was her big chance- swimmers from Nationals attracted a lot of attention from the Olympic team- or about the seven page essay she had due when she got back to Garfield High in her hometown of Seattle, WA, or even how it would, most likely, be raining when she got back.
Her hand touched the wall for the split-second needed to flip-turn for her last length of the pool. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe. She was little more than a black streak in the water.
As she finally touched the rough cement of the wall to finish, she saw something odd. No, she thought, she'd felt something odd. She shrugged it off and turned in the water, meaning to ask her friend Sarah, who was in the next heat, what her time had been, but Sarah wasn't even looking at her. She was staring at the water, mouth and eyes wide with horror. Aubrey swirled around to see seven forms floating in the water, seemingly devoid of life. Reacting immediately from her training as a lifeguard, she crossed into the lane beside her to bring the nearest to the edge of the pool. Swimmers and lifeguards around her rushed to rescue the rest.
Medics surrounded her as she laid the girl, who still breathed, thank God, though erratically, on the tile floor. The words "electric shock" were repeated several times to a general agreement, and Aubrey stood outside the medic's circle, horrified. A voice came on the intercom, but she didn't hear it. Electric shock? And she wasn't like them... how? Then the reality struck her: she had, somehow, done this. A lifeguard put his hand on her shoulder, clearly hoping to soothe her, but she angrily brushed it away and ran for the locker room.
----
"Storm, you really should see this," said Scott for what must have been the fifth time.
"What?" she asked, finally coming into the plush recreation room of the Xavier Institute. She followed his gaze to the TV.
"And in sports news, teams are now investigating the electric shock of seven of the nation's top swimmers a few moments ago. All seven were in the first heat of the women's 200 meter freestyle. The eighth competitor, Aubrey Lowe, was miraculously unhurt. Sabotage is suspected..."
"It sounds like mutant work," said Storm unhappily.
"That's what I thought, too. But Xavier said no mutant he knows of has truly electrical powers," Scott replied, adjusting the glasses he wore to keep his eyes from destroying all he saw.
"This girl... has anyone seen her since the accident?" asked Storm thoughtfully.
"Why? Do you think we might have another student?"
"I believe so."
They turned off the TV and rushed to Xavier's office, swiftly opening the large oak door.
"Yes?" asked a calm voice, "Oh, I see... why don't you two take the jet down there?"
It didn't surprise either of them that voice was only in their heads. They nodded and ran out.
----
Finally regaining enough of her wits to open the combination lock on her locker, Aubrey hurriedly peeled off her swimsuit and changed into the black t-shirt and jeans she'd stuffed into her locker for that party that would've followed the closing ceremonies. Ripping off her swim cap, she quickly tossed it into her swim bag, where it landed atop her suit. Taking a quick look in the mirror, she did a double take: her normally choppy, short brown hair was bleached a bright blonde at the bottom. She ripped herself away from her reflection to find a dark-skinned woman with white hair coming towards her. Aubrey probably wouldn't have noticed her hair color, except that it was fully a bright, unnatural white, and a bit creepy. She wasn't one of the swimmers, Aubrey knew, and wasn't wearing the uniform of the medics, either.
"What're you doing here?" Aubrey blurted out. Perhaps it was a bit impulsive, but she was a little on edge at the moment.
"Aubrey Lowe, I assume?" said the woman calmly. "I've come to help you."
"That's probably what they tell psychopaths before they take them away," mused Aubrey. "At any rate, I am not going with you, no matter what the hell you tell me."
"What if I told you I know what you are?" asked the woman.
"Then I'd say you need to be locked up even more than I do," said Aubrey, anger boiling in her.
"Come on, it's not that bad, really," said the woman, coming near her to give her a hug.
Aubrey shouldered past the woman, who tried to grab her arm as she went by. Flexing her bicep, Aubrey broke the woman's grip, and ran without another word. Her steps took her swiftly down the hallway, and she raced out the fire exit, ignoring the alarms that screamed as the door opened.
The tip-tap of high heels followed her, and Aubrey turned to see the woman sprinting after her. Spinning back around, she barely glimpsed the man before running into him. He let out an indistinguishable grunt as she slammed into his stomach. Looking up, Aubrey saw a pair of sunglasses, with an odd ruby tint to them. Intuition told her this man was in league with the woman she'd seen earlier, and her gut instinct was to keep running.
Aubrey couldn't withhold her reaction as the man tried to put an arm around her. She pushed him away, but as she did, she felt something cross through the contact. A damp thud marked the man's impact with the ground, and Aubrey looked down momentarily to see him lying there, muscles tensed and a look of pain on his face. She ran as she saw the woman coming closer, shock and fear prominent in her face.
----
Wolverine looked in an equal balance of surprise, fear, and amusement at the scene unfolding in the infirmary. Cyclops had taken a little fall, then. Served him right for being such an uppity jackass, now didn't it? It'd just be interesting to hear how he'd ended up that way.
"His heartbeat has recovered, and there doesn't seem to be brain damage," he heard Jean say, her voice afraid. "But we'll have to keep watch on those burns," she continued, motioning to the two vaguely hand-shaped spots where the charge had entered his body.
"We need to find her, now," said Storm, anger clipping her words. "She can't control this at all- she'll kill somebody."
"I will find her, Ororo," assured the Professor quietly. "She does indeed need to learn control, but I think right now she mostly needs assurance that we are not her enemies."
"He was trying to give her a hug, Professor."
"So who exactly is this?" asked Wolverine as he leaned against the wall.
"The girl was Aubrey Lowe. She's a seventeen-year-old Nationals-level swimmer, and her powers just manifested about five hours ago," said the Professor calmly. "Electricity seems to be her main power, though we're not sure if there are more yet."
"Scott and I went to get her," continued Storm, "and she gave Scott quite a jolt."
"You sure are good with kids," said Wolverine helpfully.
"Better than you," retorted Storm, more than a little annoyed.
"Shush, you two. I'll have none of this quarreling. I am going to look for her with Cerebro, and then I will make a decision of what to do."
----
A cardboard box was no protection against the rain, as the girl shivering inside had swiftly realized. It was no real place to spend the night, either, and Aubrey couldn't sleep. There were too many people coming by, too many faces to hide from. There was no way to know how many of the people that passed were just looking for a girl to come by, waiting for a chance to have some fun. Even after the sun rose again, she stayed put for a while, trying desperately to get at least a little rest.
Footsteps rang outside her hiding place again, and she ducked farther back into her box, trying to hide herself from view.
"Are you done shocking people now?" asked the white-haired woman, poking her head into Aubrey's box.
"No, I actually find it quite amusing" replied Aubrey, annoyed. "How the hell did you find me, anyway?"
"You are not the only one gifted with special powers," a man said softly outside. "I help many like you, and my powers allow me to find you."
Poking her head out, Aubrey found the speaker quickly. A bald man sat quietly in a wheelchair, seemingly unperturbed by the rain falling around him. Well, thought Aubrey, I'm definitely not the biggest freak around, am I? Somehow, though, she felt a lot calmer. Unlike the woman and man before, this man didn't look in the least threatening, though she had a gut feeling there was far more to him than his appearance.
He smiled slightly, and continued, "You are not a freak, Aubrey. Your abilities are something to be treasured, not abhorred. You do have a lot to learn, but we can help you there."
Aubrey slumped back down, unsure of what to think. This man was obviously psychic, and the woman had a feeling of power to her as well.
"What am I, anyway?" she asked, though she was fairly certain she already knew the answer.
"You are a mutant, Aubrey," said the man quietly. "But you are not alone. I run a school where you would be most welcome, where our powers can be trained and respected, not feared. Do you wish to enroll in such a safe haven, if only until you can gain enough control to be safe around yourself and others?"
It was worth considering, surely, even if she wasn't sure of the place at all. There were indications, however, that it was a hell of a lot better than a cardboard box on an unknown street corner, and if all else failed, she could run away again. Besides, a school full of mutants had to have at least some interesting aspects.
Her decision made, Aubrey cocked her head to the side and queried, "You got enough food for a hungry swimmer?"
As Aubrey Lowe, freestyle extraordinaire, sped through the water, all she could afford to think about was her strokes. Not how this was her big chance- swimmers from Nationals attracted a lot of attention from the Olympic team- or about the seven page essay she had due when she got back to Garfield High in her hometown of Seattle, WA, or even how it would, most likely, be raining when she got back.
Her hand touched the wall for the split-second needed to flip-turn for her last length of the pool. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe. She was little more than a black streak in the water.
As she finally touched the rough cement of the wall to finish, she saw something odd. No, she thought, she'd felt something odd. She shrugged it off and turned in the water, meaning to ask her friend Sarah, who was in the next heat, what her time had been, but Sarah wasn't even looking at her. She was staring at the water, mouth and eyes wide with horror. Aubrey swirled around to see seven forms floating in the water, seemingly devoid of life. Reacting immediately from her training as a lifeguard, she crossed into the lane beside her to bring the nearest to the edge of the pool. Swimmers and lifeguards around her rushed to rescue the rest.
Medics surrounded her as she laid the girl, who still breathed, thank God, though erratically, on the tile floor. The words "electric shock" were repeated several times to a general agreement, and Aubrey stood outside the medic's circle, horrified. A voice came on the intercom, but she didn't hear it. Electric shock? And she wasn't like them... how? Then the reality struck her: she had, somehow, done this. A lifeguard put his hand on her shoulder, clearly hoping to soothe her, but she angrily brushed it away and ran for the locker room.
----
"Storm, you really should see this," said Scott for what must have been the fifth time.
"What?" she asked, finally coming into the plush recreation room of the Xavier Institute. She followed his gaze to the TV.
"And in sports news, teams are now investigating the electric shock of seven of the nation's top swimmers a few moments ago. All seven were in the first heat of the women's 200 meter freestyle. The eighth competitor, Aubrey Lowe, was miraculously unhurt. Sabotage is suspected..."
"It sounds like mutant work," said Storm unhappily.
"That's what I thought, too. But Xavier said no mutant he knows of has truly electrical powers," Scott replied, adjusting the glasses he wore to keep his eyes from destroying all he saw.
"This girl... has anyone seen her since the accident?" asked Storm thoughtfully.
"Why? Do you think we might have another student?"
"I believe so."
They turned off the TV and rushed to Xavier's office, swiftly opening the large oak door.
"Yes?" asked a calm voice, "Oh, I see... why don't you two take the jet down there?"
It didn't surprise either of them that voice was only in their heads. They nodded and ran out.
----
Finally regaining enough of her wits to open the combination lock on her locker, Aubrey hurriedly peeled off her swimsuit and changed into the black t-shirt and jeans she'd stuffed into her locker for that party that would've followed the closing ceremonies. Ripping off her swim cap, she quickly tossed it into her swim bag, where it landed atop her suit. Taking a quick look in the mirror, she did a double take: her normally choppy, short brown hair was bleached a bright blonde at the bottom. She ripped herself away from her reflection to find a dark-skinned woman with white hair coming towards her. Aubrey probably wouldn't have noticed her hair color, except that it was fully a bright, unnatural white, and a bit creepy. She wasn't one of the swimmers, Aubrey knew, and wasn't wearing the uniform of the medics, either.
"What're you doing here?" Aubrey blurted out. Perhaps it was a bit impulsive, but she was a little on edge at the moment.
"Aubrey Lowe, I assume?" said the woman calmly. "I've come to help you."
"That's probably what they tell psychopaths before they take them away," mused Aubrey. "At any rate, I am not going with you, no matter what the hell you tell me."
"What if I told you I know what you are?" asked the woman.
"Then I'd say you need to be locked up even more than I do," said Aubrey, anger boiling in her.
"Come on, it's not that bad, really," said the woman, coming near her to give her a hug.
Aubrey shouldered past the woman, who tried to grab her arm as she went by. Flexing her bicep, Aubrey broke the woman's grip, and ran without another word. Her steps took her swiftly down the hallway, and she raced out the fire exit, ignoring the alarms that screamed as the door opened.
The tip-tap of high heels followed her, and Aubrey turned to see the woman sprinting after her. Spinning back around, she barely glimpsed the man before running into him. He let out an indistinguishable grunt as she slammed into his stomach. Looking up, Aubrey saw a pair of sunglasses, with an odd ruby tint to them. Intuition told her this man was in league with the woman she'd seen earlier, and her gut instinct was to keep running.
Aubrey couldn't withhold her reaction as the man tried to put an arm around her. She pushed him away, but as she did, she felt something cross through the contact. A damp thud marked the man's impact with the ground, and Aubrey looked down momentarily to see him lying there, muscles tensed and a look of pain on his face. She ran as she saw the woman coming closer, shock and fear prominent in her face.
----
Wolverine looked in an equal balance of surprise, fear, and amusement at the scene unfolding in the infirmary. Cyclops had taken a little fall, then. Served him right for being such an uppity jackass, now didn't it? It'd just be interesting to hear how he'd ended up that way.
"His heartbeat has recovered, and there doesn't seem to be brain damage," he heard Jean say, her voice afraid. "But we'll have to keep watch on those burns," she continued, motioning to the two vaguely hand-shaped spots where the charge had entered his body.
"We need to find her, now," said Storm, anger clipping her words. "She can't control this at all- she'll kill somebody."
"I will find her, Ororo," assured the Professor quietly. "She does indeed need to learn control, but I think right now she mostly needs assurance that we are not her enemies."
"He was trying to give her a hug, Professor."
"So who exactly is this?" asked Wolverine as he leaned against the wall.
"The girl was Aubrey Lowe. She's a seventeen-year-old Nationals-level swimmer, and her powers just manifested about five hours ago," said the Professor calmly. "Electricity seems to be her main power, though we're not sure if there are more yet."
"Scott and I went to get her," continued Storm, "and she gave Scott quite a jolt."
"You sure are good with kids," said Wolverine helpfully.
"Better than you," retorted Storm, more than a little annoyed.
"Shush, you two. I'll have none of this quarreling. I am going to look for her with Cerebro, and then I will make a decision of what to do."
----
A cardboard box was no protection against the rain, as the girl shivering inside had swiftly realized. It was no real place to spend the night, either, and Aubrey couldn't sleep. There were too many people coming by, too many faces to hide from. There was no way to know how many of the people that passed were just looking for a girl to come by, waiting for a chance to have some fun. Even after the sun rose again, she stayed put for a while, trying desperately to get at least a little rest.
Footsteps rang outside her hiding place again, and she ducked farther back into her box, trying to hide herself from view.
"Are you done shocking people now?" asked the white-haired woman, poking her head into Aubrey's box.
"No, I actually find it quite amusing" replied Aubrey, annoyed. "How the hell did you find me, anyway?"
"You are not the only one gifted with special powers," a man said softly outside. "I help many like you, and my powers allow me to find you."
Poking her head out, Aubrey found the speaker quickly. A bald man sat quietly in a wheelchair, seemingly unperturbed by the rain falling around him. Well, thought Aubrey, I'm definitely not the biggest freak around, am I? Somehow, though, she felt a lot calmer. Unlike the woman and man before, this man didn't look in the least threatening, though she had a gut feeling there was far more to him than his appearance.
He smiled slightly, and continued, "You are not a freak, Aubrey. Your abilities are something to be treasured, not abhorred. You do have a lot to learn, but we can help you there."
Aubrey slumped back down, unsure of what to think. This man was obviously psychic, and the woman had a feeling of power to her as well.
"What am I, anyway?" she asked, though she was fairly certain she already knew the answer.
"You are a mutant, Aubrey," said the man quietly. "But you are not alone. I run a school where you would be most welcome, where our powers can be trained and respected, not feared. Do you wish to enroll in such a safe haven, if only until you can gain enough control to be safe around yourself and others?"
It was worth considering, surely, even if she wasn't sure of the place at all. There were indications, however, that it was a hell of a lot better than a cardboard box on an unknown street corner, and if all else failed, she could run away again. Besides, a school full of mutants had to have at least some interesting aspects.
Her decision made, Aubrey cocked her head to the side and queried, "You got enough food for a hungry swimmer?"