Camp Verde, Arizona. John Proudstar does not like the reservation. He does not like to watch the old ones, sitting slumped against their doorsteps, dreaming dreams of glory long gone. John Proudstar is an Apache, and he is ashamed of his people.
A wide expanse of desert surrounded John Proudstar, the hot summer sun blazing down on his tanned flesh. He moved with the speed of the wind, dashing like a marionette gliding along the ground. He delighted at the wind whipping through his hair, the rich stench of the bison stampeding at his side. None of his people, the Apache or the Yavapai who shared this reservation, had ever moved quite like this. The bison of the American plains could stampede at rates of thirty-five miles per hour, but John Proudstar could keep pace with it easily.
John reached out to run a hand through the coarse short fur of the buffalo's mane. It was patchy and splotchy, much like life on the reservation. John reached out with both hands and jumped into the air, grabbing onto the buffalo's horns on each side of its head. Letting out a whooping cry from deep within his chest, the man called Proudstar pulled with all his might. The bison let out a disturbed bellow as its hoofed feet left the ground, flailing wildly as gravity lost all meaning. With a deeply loud THOOM, almost a ton of wild animal crashed into the desert.
Lurching to his feet, John let out another shout as he watched the bison slowly get up, "There, horned one… do you see?" Pounding his chest with one clenched fist, he continued, "There is still a man among the Apache!"
A soft clapping greeted his boast as the bison slowly walked off a massive headache. John Proudstar spun to face what could be an opponent. He was greeted by a tall, slim man in a forest green suit and a shorter man in a garish yellow and blue costume. The suited man was the one who was clapping, and it was hard to imagine how they'd snuck up on him. John cursed himself that he must be going soft, as he noticed a beat-up rental car parked not far off.
"Who are you?" John Proudstar asked bluntly, not moving from his spot, "Not many come to Camp Verde, aside from tourists. And you two yahoos don't look like tourists."
"My name is Scott Summers," the slim man began. John noticed he had discarded his suit jacket over the hood of the car, and his clean white shirt was unbuttoned, "I come from the Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters."
John let out a bark of a laugh, his head tilting back at the skies of his ancestors, "A school? Don't make me laugh anymore," His mood turned sour and he raised a fist, "I don't need learning, thin man. I'm going to give both of you five seconds to vamoose, before this gets ugly."
"I told the professor that angle wouldn't work," Scott let out a laugh as he rubbed the back of his head and looked at the ground, "I'll make it simple. I'm gathering a team." Scott tossed a thumb at the costumed fellow who seemed to be enjoying the scenery, "His name is Logan. The two of you are some of the toughest sons of bitches I know of. I need tough, and I need people with the strength to perform the impossible."
"...I'm listening."
"What I also want is to prove that mutants are people, just like everyone else." Scott continued, taking a small step towards the Apache, "White, black, man, woman, hero, villain, any and everything in-between."
John Proudstar didn't move.
"I won't lie to you," Scott continued, slowly moving closer with his sales pitch, "It's dangerous as hell. But there's also tough opponents, and even some glory to be found."
John looked deep in thought, wondering if his life here was greater than the possibility of glory for an Apache Warrior.
"One more thing to think about, John Proudstar," Scott finished with a thought, "I know you're looking to bring glory to your people. What could be better than becoming a superhero?"
The shorter man snorted a laugh at that, lighting up a cigar.
"I should throw you both out on your asses," John shook his head, "Coming to a lonely native kid, promising delusions of grandeur? Crock of bullshit." He looked at his hands, rough with work on the land and scarred with battle, "But a rez kid like me, being a hero? Something the kids could look up to?" A soft smile grew on his anger-scarred face, "I like the thought of that." Proudstar closed the distance between himself and Scott, hand held out, "You have a deal, thin man."
Scott Summers grinned as he shook the Apache's hand, "I'm glad, John."
Scott was glad to leave Arizona. The heat had never agreed with him, something he blamed on his family coming from Alaska. It also didn't help that his body just was no longer as well-trained as the one he was used to. Scott's slimmer body had been a shock the first time he'd looked in the mirror. It wasn't like his superpowers were based on his body's strength, but he'd bulked up after realizing that he might need to punch people with his fists rather than his eyes. Sometime after the formation of the original X-Factor.
Ah, crap. That would be a thing, wouldn't it?
Scott did his best not to sigh as thoughts of Cameron Hodge floated to the front of his mind. He, Logan, and John were taking a taxi from JFK airport to the Xavier Manor grounds in Westchester, New York. A long car ride, Scott admitted, but it was cheaper than grabbing a rental car yet again. And Uber wouldn't be a thing for about two decades.
Note to self, Scott mused to himself as he stared out the window, get the X-Men a foothold on YouTube early. Make silly videos with mutants. Humanize the hell out of us while the media tries to demonize us.
Also: Invest in Yahoo and Google.
The taxi slowed as it approached the closest thing Scott ever had to a home. The gates to the grounds opened slowly, creaking as the automated system pulled them open. Scott felt an intense wave of nostalgia overtake him as the car slowed to a stop at the front steps of Xavier Mansion. The Professor waited in his wheelchair at the top of the stairs, and Scott could feel his apprehension even without the man peeking into his mind. The professor's body seemed to relax as he saw three men exiting the taxi rather than one.
"Scott," Charles called out to his student, a smile evident on his face, "It's good to see you again."
Scott laughed as he jogged up the stairs to meet his teacher, slipping the obedient student mask back over his face, "It's been maybe a day, sir."
"Quite," Xavier replied, raising an eyebrow at the more jovial Scott, "You seem to be in a better mood. I'm glad that the fate of the others isn't weighing too heavily on you."
"I'm just barely holding myself together, Professor," Scott shook his head softly, rubbing the back of his head, "I know they're alive. With what the island did, they have to be. But it's hard to imagine what they're going through."
Xavier nodded sagely, "Indeed, Scott. Luckily, my own travels were also just as fruitful as yours seem to have been." The professor wheeled himself around to begin leading the three men into his home and school, "I am curious as to why you requested those two, though."
Scott shrugged as he gestured for Logan and John to follow, "Just a hunch, sir. Nothing more."
"Mmm." Xavier replied, deciding to drop the subject for now, "Very well. Wolverine, John Proudstar. I welcome the both of you to my home. You know Scott Summers, but I am Professor Charles Xavier."
"I got a brief primer on the way to Arizona," Logan nodded at Charles, "Nice to meet ya, Chuck."
Xavier bristled at the nickname slightly, but ignored it, "Then I'm sure he informed both of you as to the purpose of your recruitment."
"A rescue mission," John replied, falling into place behind Xavier and Scott, "And being superheroes after."
Xavier raised an eyebrow at that, giving Scott a look that told him they would talk later, "Yes. That… would be a thing we do." The massive wooden front doors eased open automatically as all four moved into the mansion, "After all, you two will become part of my Uncanny X-Men."
Author's Notes:
Wow, two updates in two days. I hadn't planned on this, but I've been working on the story by the seat of my pants and writing up what comes to mind. I do promise that once we're outside the Giant-Size X-Men #1 story, I will actually skip around a little with continuity. I just mainly want to establish how Scott changes the core origin of the newer X-Men at first.
It's also a real interesting thing to go back and re-read some of the very early comics. Thunderbird decides to call Xavier a "cripple" and "white-eyes" in the same panel, while being horribly generically Western and Native at the same time. I'm trying to make Thunderbird in general more respectable, and would appreciate feedback on the guy. I'm drawing from his brief time on the team as an angry man, and also on his time in Chaos War's Dead X-Men special for this, and I hope it makes him a little more well-rounded.