(Two)
Angel scampered through the trees, giggling to herself as small girls often do. She was young, only about seven or so, and happy to be playing outside in the morning sunshine. She was dressed in a light red jumper and sneakers, her tawny hair long about her shoulders. She had it tied back in pigtails, pink ribbons neatly in place.
She heard a rustle overhead and ducked down, hiding. She waited a moment and when nothing happened, took off running again. She squealed when she heard the rustling again and then shrieked in delight as she was suddenly scooped up from behind by powerful, large white hands.
"Daddy!"
Her father, a strange cross between an angel and a man, embraced her tightly and held her close as they flew through the air, the wind whistling through their hair and the warm late summer air on their backs. Kimble was a skillful flier and enjoyed his morning exercise. He wasn't human, not even close, but was a sentient hologram given true life through fate and circumstance. He required the sunlight to provide him with energy and sunned himself every morning to 'recharge'. He used his need to be outside as an excuse to spend time with his daughter and play around.
Angel wasn't his biological daughter. He wasn't flesh and therefore not capable of having children of his own. He didn't mind. Angel was enough for him. He had rescued her from a burning building when she was an infant and she became his own. They were inseparable and he was very protective her. He was a Siskan Courtesan, a pleasure program, and required a Master or Mistress to be truly happy. This young girl owned him in every sense of the word and she was his whole world.
Kimble was a Siskan hologram designed by humanoid creators, but he was dressed in the skin of a male pilot, a creature from another world. He had the upper body of a man with the wings of a bat, but his legs were bent and crooked like those of a cat, giving him a bird like appearance. His feet were made of two large, furry toes with a large toe claw in between, handy for grasping onto trees while climbing. Like the fleshly pilots he'd been made to resemble, Kimble was telekinetic, he could move his body through the air just by thinking about it. His wings were beautiful, but not powerful enough to lift a man of his size. They gave him extra speed and agility, that was it.
They flew around for a while, drifting lightly over the huge grounds. At the center was a large three story mansion, the heart of the Xavier Institute where they lived. It was here that Professor Charles Xavier fought his cold and silent war against mutant intolerance. Charles was a telepath, possibly the most powerful telepath on the planet. He had long since been a campaigner for mutant rights and peace between mutants and normal humans. It was a never ending process, hampered by the many militant mutant groups out there stirring up the pot of hatred with their violence.
To aid in his quest for peace, Charles Xavier gathered like minded mutants and formed the X-men, a group that fought off the more violent groups of mutants and humans in an attempt to maintain the peace. Their existence was kept secret, the Institute was mainly a school, a place where mutants could come to learn how to control their powers while being kept safe from any violent humans that wouldn't accept them in the regular public schools.
Kimble swooped down behind the Mansion to where their quad was located, landing gracefully on one of the upstairs balconies. The quad was one of several additions to the main house. Here Angel and Kimble shared a life with the other tenants, mutants like themselves. There were four apartments here and he and Angel lived in one with his best friends, Remy LeBeau and his wife Molly. Kimble shook some of the morning dew off of his mirrored sunglasses and herded his adopted offspring into the house.
They made their way inside and into the kitchen, eager for breakfast. The quad apartments were roomy and generous, plenty of room for all. Remy's place had become a gathering room of sorts, his kitchen the main source of breakfast for all the tenants here. The kitchen was busy with activity as everyone else in the quad had also gathered there for breakfast as well.
Kimble headed over to a smaller, separate table where the children had gathered. He had become the official babysitter of the quad and of the X-men clan as well, watching over them protectively. Besides his own daughter, five other children resided here in the quad. There was Carrie, the daughter of Cyclops and Jean, and Wolverine's three, Carter, Leslie, and Jessie. The fifth was Chelsea, the daughter of Cindi Landry, a woman who spent most of her time out on the road doing overseas missions for the Professor.
Karen Logan, Wolverine's wife and the resident psychologist, had started most of the food cooking and was nibbling on bacon while she served the children. When she saw Kimble, she smiled and handed Carter to Kimble, kissing them both before she dashed out the door. She also had clients off the grounds and spent a few hours in the city every morning. Carter was very young, less than a year old. Kimble slid on a Gerry pack and squeezed the baby into it, freeing up his hands so he could set the plates of food out for the other kids. He fussed over them and conducted this small army of tiny persons, skillfully using his telekinetic power to keep them in line. He had mastered the use of his power long ago and using it now was second nature to him.
Kimble spread the food around, grabbing small bites for himself. He used plasma from the sun to charge, but he ate food as well in tiny portions, just enough to enjoy the taste. "Where's Remy and Logan, huh?" he asked to the crowd. "They's gotta eats, too."
Remy's downstairs stretching and Logan's out running and checking the grounds, Molly answered, using her hands to form silent words. A violent childhood injury had left her unable to speak well enough to form proper words and so she used sign language to communicate. He should be here any minute.
(break)
Kimble and his daughter hadn't been alone in the trees, a lone runner was making his way silently through the foliage, his passage going unnoticed by the happy couple. The subject of Kimble's inquiry was out and prowling, making his morning rounds. James Logan was a short man, standing only about five foot two, but he was one of the more dangerous mutants living at the Institute. His primary mutation was a healing factor that allowed him to heal rapidly from almost any injury. This healing factor landed him under the scrutiny of a secret agency of the Canadian government, his employer at the time. He was kidnapped and forced to undergo a painful process during which Adamantium, an indestructible metal, was boded to his skeleton. This would have killed any normal man, but his mutation allowed him to survive. He later broke away from that agency to come and live here at the Institute, using his body as a weapon for peace. He was also in charge of Security here at the Institute and often spent his mornings checking the grounds and making sure all was as it should be.
Logan had suffered many years with a fractured memory, a result of the horrible tampering that had been done to his mind and body when all that metal had been crammed inside of him. It had been restored to a degree by the terrorist, Jael, but there were still gaps in there. He now knew his first name was James, but yet used it only as a matter of formality when dealing with legal documents and the like. He'd always been just plain Logan for as long as he could recall and so it was simply Logan he responded to in casual company.
On top of having a healing factor, Logan also possessed animal keen senses of hearing, smell and sight. He was a human with enhanced feral capabilities and often used them to track people or infiltrate dangerous places. Along with those senses came an aggressive personality and a rough mouth. He was often curt and opinionated, traits the Professor was helping him with, all the better to help him work with the large team living here. He still had a hair trigger temper and critical mind. His codename, Wolverine, was well deserved.
Logan left the trees and circuited the large house, making sure all was well. He passed squads of uniformed young mutants as they patrolled the area. Over the years, the mutant violence had become such that Charles Xavier was forced to militarize the Institute somewhat, teaching his many charges to care for themselves and the house as well. The students here were trained in martial arts and were kept physically fit, all the better to defend themselves. They ran drills and were trained in the defensive uses of their powers. The use of weapons was outlawed although Wolverine had a large stash of them locked away, just in case it ever came down to it. He wasn't about to be hauled off to some mutant concentration camp without a fight.
More and more mutants were being discovered every day and they came here for safekeeping and learning. The Institute was largely a school and the students here well educated along with their military style physical training. The emphasis here was on bettering themselves for the greater good of the community and the belief of peace between the mutants and their human brothers. This was the main ideal of the place, Charles' dream. They were soldiers of the peace.
Those students who excelled at the training were eventually elevated to full X-men status and joined the regular teams out on missions, usually rescue attempts during natural disasters, but also doing their best to stop the anti-mutant rioting by putting up a good front that not all mutants were dangerous. Some progress had been made in this effort, but it seemed as though they were constantly being thwarted by two main anti-mutant factions out there. One of the worst factions was the Outkasts. These mutants were savage and slaughtered innocent humans, mostly in raids on banks and other financial institutions. They weren't above the usual kidnapping or the occasional bombing. They were fueled by hatred, but more so by greed. They had no interest in peace, only the raping of the planet for their own ends. At least their operations were small and singular in their goals — the gathering of wealth, not terrorism. That they left to others.
Indeed, terrorism was the goal of the Outkast's chief rival for attention, Jael. This man's army of powerful mutants had been growing in strength and ferocity over the years. Jael's last big score was the demolition of one of SHIELD's main prison facilities only just last week. SHIELD was an American government agency that handled most of the mutant/human conflicts, or at least they tried to as best they could. Jael was growing steadily out of their ability to control. Jael had some brothers in arms incarcerated there and he'd finally gathered enough forces to lay waste to the place. He liberated his men but also set free some of the worst mutant monsters in the lot. The mayhem that followed had been brutal and was still continuing. It was going to take weeks, but together as a team, SHIELD with the help of the X-men and other superhuman groups, theywould do their best to gather the worst of them and lock them away again, hopefully for good.
Jael presented a threat beyond than just his extracurricular activities, he was seeking Kimble. Jael was a major player in the Game, an event where Masters sought out specially Marked Siskan holograms for their powers and their angels. Each Siskan was supposed to find an angel, a talisman of power. Kimble's angel happened to be a child, his young Mistress in fact, but not all of the angels were children. Some could be machines or tokens of high value. The X-men had received some sketchy details, but it seemed as though the players of the Game were seeking out the angels in order to build a weapon, some kind of machine. By possessing Kimble, the X-men were by default players in the Game. Jael was aware that the X-men possessed him, but wasn't yet powerful enough to take them on. He sent out groups to harass the X-men now and again, but never anyone strong enough to take the Siskan by force. For the moment Kimble was safe, but no one really knew for how long.
Wolverine made his way to the quad where he lived and passed through the large Common Room, pausing when he saw his teammate Remy LeBeau, codename Gambit, working out on the patio side of the room.
Gambit had taken up a spot in front of the glass doors, warm in the sunshine streaming in. He was a tall slender man, muscular and strong. Long auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail and dangling down his neck. He was dressed in a pair of tight spandex shorts, the only clothing really suitable for what he was doing. He was stretching out and exercising as he often did in the morning before eating, maintaining his flexibility. He had a small mat spread out and was doing some yoga like exercises.
Wolverine watched in quiet admiration as Remy did a slow and careful handstand, balancing himself with ease. Once settled, he next amazed Logan by slowly spreading his legs horizontally across his body until he did a perfect split. At thirty-three years of age, Remy still had the flexibility of a teenaged gymnast. He raised his legs and then did a split again, this time front to back. His elbows never shook nor showed any sign of tiring. Logan couldn't have been any more impressed. He knew Remy was good, but not like this. He must have been stretching all of his life.
"Hey, Gumbo," Logan growled softly, doing his best not to startle his Cajun teammate.
"Bonjour," Remy greeted from his upside down position, not the least bit fazed. Truth was he had sensed Logan's approach without ever looking in that direction.
Remy was a mutant like everyone else here. He could produce bio-kinetic energy from his body, charge small items, and then hurl them like bombs. He also had his cat like grace and flexibility. It wasn't often that he would fall and not find his feet. He could climb like a monkey and was as stealthy as the best of them. He had been raised to be a master thief, a life he had embraced eagerly as it suited his personality and physical attributes.
He had also inherited another gift later in life. He had always been sensitive to the moods and feelings of others, it was an important part to being a con man and thief. He was a brilliant seducer and master manipulator. It seemed he had some empathic ability and had put it to good use. That power had received a major boost from his association with Kimble. Kimble was telekinetic, but was an empath as well. His power had influenced Gambit's, making him sensitive to others around him. Remy had sensed Wolverine's arrival simply by "feeling" his body's emotional vibrations.
"When yer done eatin', Chuck's got a mission for us tonight," Wolverine said, heading for the stairs and his own breakfast. Chuck was his pet name for the Professor, only he and Remy were allowed to get away with it, and then only because they refused to give it up.
"Si bien. I'll be up in a minute."
Logan nodded and headed up the stairs, following the glorious smell of breakfast. Karen passed him in the hallway on her way to work and slowed just enough to give him a deep loving kiss before disappearing out the front door. He watched her go, his heart still full of love for her in spite of the passage of time. Once Logan fell, he fell for good.
He made his way to Remy's kitchen, smiling at the children gathered there. He had never pegged himself as a family man, but having three children of his own had changed that. He was still his usual gruff self, but never around them, no. They managed to reduce him to a great big softie. He spoke gently to them, watching over them protectively, and indulging them more than he would any student under his care. He still expected discipline from them, but was never harsh or cruel. He was a better father than most had expected.
Logan grabbed a plate from the stack and began heaping food on it. He gave a nudge to his niece who was now at the helm, cooking up this marvelous feast. Molly was Remy's young wife, another feral mutant like himself. She was blonde and blue eyed, but was hairy for a girl and had sharp claws and fangs. They made her seem more fierce than she actually was, Molly was generally a gentle creature and very loving towards her family and the kids. She helped Kimble care for the lot, preferring to assist the X-men team in this way as opposed to becoming a fighter.
At an early age Molly had been attacked by another savage mutant, a terrible creature she called the Lion Man. The Lion Man was in fact Victor Creed, the infamous killer known as Sabretooth. He had slaughtered her mother and twin sister, believing the children to be his own. One of Creed's mental flaws was that he wouldn't tolerate any offspring of his own to survive. Sabretooth, the Lion Man, had slashed Molly's throat and left her for dead. She miraculously survived but had forever lost the ability to speak normally. Karen Richards had discovered her years later and taught her to speak using sign language. They came here to live at the Institute, a psychologist and her feral charge. They had been accepted readily, graciously - Karen was now Wolverine's wife and Molly was married to Gambit. Later on it was discovered that Molly was truthfully the child of Sabretooth as he had suspected, but that information was withheld from her. It was believed she had nightmares enough without knowing that the monster that had so badly damaged her was in fact her own father.
Logan called Molly his niece as an expression of affection, but to a point it was also true. Sabretooth was Wolverine's half brother. Logan watched over Molly as his own, keeping her safe from the outside world and the hateful ways of the norms. Molly was feral enough that it could be seen, she would never be able to pass as a normal human in society. Molly was happy enough here with the children. She and Kimble were fast friends and ran a daycare center in the main house of the Institute, jobs that suited them well.
Logan moved to the table and sat down to eat. He grunted softly in thanks as Kimble passed a cup of coffee his way without being asked. These two hadn't always gotten along, but they had made a kind of truce and managed to live well enough with one another. Kimble was often childlike and immature, a plus with the kids but something the overly gruff Wolverine had a hard time dealing with. He saw Kimble as an adult when at times Kimble was far from it. The Siskan could be easily hurt emotionally and sometimes had bouts of depression and instability. It usually came down to Remy to get him straight. A Siskan needs to be owned to feel right in the world and at one time Remy was Kimble's Master. That title had been passed on to Angel, but Gambit still had to look after Kimble as though he was an unruly teenager stuck in an endless puberty. It didn't seem to bother Remy all that much, but it was tough for Wolverine. He believed in control and discipline, traits Kimble sometimes lacked.
" 'S Remy comin' up?" Kimble asked Logan as he passed food around to the kids.
"Yeah. Said he'd be just a minute."
Kimble looked up and smiled as the man himself appeared, a towel around his neck. "Bonjour chillen's," Remy greeted to the tiny crowd.
"Bonjour, Uncle Remy!" they cheered back at him.
Remy laughed and sat at the table, happy to be around them. Unlike Logan this one had always desired children. His dream was one of a large happy family surrounding him. He and Molly had been married for about five years now, but for all their trying, so far they had no children of their own. Karen tried to cheer him, saying that since Molly was so young, eight years his junior, her body simply needed more time to mature. Gambit hoped it was so. He loved his wife dearly, he would never leave her, but his dream remained unfulfilled. For now he satisfied himself with the young ones living in his quad, spoiling them all rotten and loving them with all his heart.
"So what's dis big mission, eh?" Remy asked Wolverine, smiling as Molly set a plate of food down in front of him.
"Got some intel that Jael's got a crew stashed in a warehouse down on the waterfront. Chuck wants us to go down and check it out. Not so much ta bust some heads, but he's got an idea that there might be some leads there tellin' us where that sick freak is holed up."
For all their trying, neither SHIELD nor the X-men had ever been able to exactly locate the mysterious terrorist. Logan and Remy had both met him before, but were never able to exactly pin him down. It would be a relief to everyone if they could take him down.
At the mention of Jael's name, Kimble drifted closer to Remy as he worked the kids. He was vibrating nervousness now, something the empathic Gambit could feel. Their bodies brushed gently and wordless comfort was passed on, unnoticed by the others in the room.
/ Jael scares me, Kimble vibrated.
/ Nobody's gonna let 'im 'urt you, cher, Remy returned.
Kimble nodded and moved on, satisfied for the moment.
Both Kimble and Remy were empathic in the same way. Gambit had already possessed the gift in a mild, latent form when they had first met. Through much circumstance, exposure to Kimble had boosted that ability and now they were equals. Since they were so close and their gifts so strong, they could communicate almost telepathically with one another. Energy would pass between them, something that all special Siskans possessed, the Kundatesh.
Exposure to the Kundatesh made Remy strong with it as well, a gift from Kimble he had learned to control over the years, making it his friend. This energy was strong and often spoke to him, whispering its secrets. Remy had given this voice a name, Shi'ow-ri, the Whisperer in Siskan. It helped him to cope with this strange gift and keep his sanity. Being empathic had its dangers, many empaths were overly sensitive to the feelings of others and were prone to violence and suicide.
"When you want me?" Remy asked Wolverine as he munched on a piece of toast.
"Midnight tonight. Meet me out by the oak tree."
"D'accorde. Gambit will be dere."