It's a Family Affair

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"regular communication"
'telepathic communication, thoughts'
titles
emphasis, flashbacks, languages
journal entries

Chapter One (1 … I)
The Beginning & Directions

Dining Room : 9.42 am
Grimfaced and visibly upset, a terribly displeased Charles Francis Xavier rolled his wheelchair around to face the vast multitude of genetically mutated students attending his prestigious institution for the gifted, per se. He moved with handicapped momentum through the youthful congregation, contemplating each of his apprentices, scanning their minds for the slightest feeling of remorse over their ruinous actions. Since the Apocalypse Incident—as the government had titled the disastrous period—many mutants had come forward and revealed themselves to be. The Acolytes, BoM (Brotherhood of Mutants), other anonymous mutants, and even a few humans with a love for the abnormal had soon pledged their newfound allegiance to Xavier and his X-Men in their fight for equality, freedom, peace, and prosperity between all of mankind. And with no one left to command or manipulate, their leaders soon followed suit… reluctantly, of course.

It had only been three months since then, when the renovated mansion finally opened their doors to more company—so little a time. And already there was more chaos, idiocy, and mayhem than before.

Hunched over in his seat, the Professor sat, recollecting memories… not only belonging to him, but also to his colleagues and his pupils… all concerning the same event. They all remembered a time and what the adults had come home to that last Saturday night only a few days ago.

Loud music blaring out of the stereo's speakers.

Damaged furniture turned over and strewn everywhere in disarray.

Drunk teens babbling nonsensical words to each other, swaying along to the heavy metal.

The sound of expensive china shattering as it made contact with the tiled kitchen floor.

Boys and girls sitting in darkened corners and playing Spin the Bottle, vigorously sucking face.

Footballs carelessly being thrown and gliding through the air.

Metal blades slashing.

The song slowly fading out.

Disappointed moans and groans.

A deep, dangerous growl echoing throughout.

"I thought that maybe—perhaps—you had learned your lesson from the last social gathering you threw at the mansion, my responsible, trustworthy X-Men, which, may I add, ended up in complete disaster with you almost being eradicated by Arcade, and, if you remember, a month's worth of chores and extra Danger Room sessions with Logan… I apparently thought wrong, didn't I…? Maybe I've become too lax in my old age… Is that it? Hmm?"

The incredibly disgraced superhero teenagers refused to make eye contact with the superior, heated elders. Instead, they hung their heads low, some hoping to tune out the headmaster's lecture, all quite ashamed and embarrassed to be preached at so.

The Professor cleared his throat regally, regaining his students' attention. "The other instructors and I have finally come up with a punishment befitting your appalling behavior as of late."

Heads immediately jerked up from their lifeless positions. Ears perked. What was going to happen to them? What would they be made to do?

Xavier steepled his fingers and rested them by the tightly pursed crevice that was his mouth. His brow furrowed as he sighed dismally, for he did not enjoy disciplining what he considered to be his children. But it was necessary… something he couldn't avoid doing, or reap the consequences. "Not only will you be supervised during any and every activity you participate in from now on—or at least until we feel you have regained our trust… individually—you will also be spending the whole of your summer vacation taking a course, directed by us, in what we like to call a…"

Everyone scooted forward to sit on the edges of their seats as they anxiously awaited their sentences like convicted criminals.

"… real life simulation," he continued.

Thirteen year old Amiko Yashida—the Wolverine's adopted daughter, a foreigner born and raised in Japan for the majority of her short, unlived life by Logan's deceased fiancé and her foster mother, Mariko, and then by his trusted friend Yukio—held her hand up high.

"Yes, Amiko?"

"Professor Xavier, what is real life simulation?" she asked to the best of her ability in broken, butchered, and heavily accented English. "I terribly, terribly confused. Someone would explain better to me, please?"

Xavier's eyes, though aged and wrinkled, twinkled with delight, his gentle baby blue orbs passionately shining. Thrilled to be a witness to Amiko's first attempts at speaking their complicated language, he praised her with a clap of the hands. "Excellently worded, Amiko. And an excellent question! Ororo, I do believe it's your turn now."

Storm gracefully uncrossed her legs and rose from her chair, smoothing down her skirts. She then took the lead, but not before flashing a gracious, toothy grin to her dear associate, benefactor, friend, and mentor—head of the X-Men's organization. She began, "Upon the discovery of the mutant x-factor gene in these confused, wretched children, their parents and guardians have decided to enroll them here… at the Institute for the summer's being. We need you to be here and there, available to them when we can't be. They will listen and look up to you for advice on their powers and a matter of other things. It will be like being a parent, if you will.

"During the day, we will be working with them… teaching them different techniques we have developed, each specifically designed for each one of them and altered to the way they learn best. While the children are away, you will continue on with the simulation."

"Oh man! No, no! Auntie O, you really can't be serious, can you, dude? You cannot be doing this. Not this weekend!" Evan whiningly protested. "I had plans! What about the big skating contest on Saturday? I'm already signed up, have got the sponsors and everything! They're counting on me, Auntie! I need to be there!"

Rogue scoffed. "Yah're so pathetic, Ev. Sheesh, Ah ain't ever heard such a sob story. Boo freaking hoo. Get over yahself."

"Stripes." Wolverine shot a reproachful look in her direction, and after having dealt with Rogue and her sharp tongue, he focused his attention fully onto Spyke. Evan loudly gulped as Logan exposed an adamantium-bonded bone claw. "Now fer you," the feral mutant snarled. "You shoulda thought about that before throwing your little shindig, huh Porcupine? Yer gonna go through with this, whether you like it or not. Got me?"

Storm patted her nephew's arm reassuringly. "They will do fine without you, Evan. I promise you."

"And as fer the rest of you," Logan growled, motioning to the other kids, "if yer still brave enough to refuse after that demonstration, which I'm sure yer not, you'll see plenty more where that came from. Anyone who disapproves can take it up with me… down in the Danger Room…"

With his being a master of metal, Magneto used repelling magnetic forces to hover above the students at a terrifying height. "And to make this assignment even more interesting," he bellowed from overhead, "we have decided to throw in a few… curveballs." He wore a sadistic smile upon his lips, its affect quite ominous. "You will pretend to be married to the partner we assign you. There will be no divorce, and that is final. Your family will live in the old rundown maids' quarters which Charles's miracle worker contractor has restored and built into a five story apartment complex. On the very bottom floor is the Laundromat where you can attend to all your dirty garments, and the manager's office resides on this floor as well—you shall meet him or her later on this afternoon. The second, third, and fourth floors are residential. Each suite accommodates six rooms: one for you and one for your spouse—and there will be absolutely no tomfoolery, as we have installed cameras everywhere except for the bathroom; but do remember… you can't hide from an all-knowing telepath—one for your child or children, a bathroom, a dining/living room, and an adjourning kitchen. All suites are identical; no one is being favored. I must note that the suites are furnished, but only with the bare essentials: an empty refrigerator and freezer, an oven, toilet, sink, and a tub. The rest we leave up to you. And lastly, the fifth floor is occupied by a restaurant and tavern, or, as you might call it, a bar," he stated blatantly. "Do not be fooled! For those of you who think we'll let you have even the tiniest taste of alcohol, you are sadly mistaken. You all act like drunken idiots as it is. All you will be served is milk, juice, or water.

"Besides all that, you will work a job, pay bills, care for your children, cook meals, shop for furniture and other supplies, and may even balance a checkbook. You know, all that wonderful adult stuff we do each and every day of our pathetic lives… And, in addition to your punishment, you will be required to write a journal entry every day, and the only time you will be allowed off the premises is when you attend the internship we have arranged for you. Clear?"

The teens sighed. This was going to be the worst, most boring summer vacation in mutant history.

Author's Note: Well, hello there! I'm back! I've been working on this chapter for a long time now (excruciating months and months…) and have finally uploaded it to Enjoy and please review the first chapter of It's a Family Affair.

Completed. 9/11/05. 9.02 am
Updated. 1/1/06. 11.41 am.