Disclaimer: I do not own the x-men. Actually.
Hi again. I know this is soon upon finishing The Butterfly Effect, but I figured, if I have the chapter lying around I might as well get it up and see what people think, before I continue it, don't I?
No info here, I just want to know what people think of this. Is it worth continuing? I have the story well plotted, and most details are finished in my head, so with the right encouragement I should be able to write this.
Or well, I should say this is after X2, sort of replacing X3.
So, what do you think?
Liandra Smith shivered and pulled the thin, green jacket tighter around her. It was too cold for only that, but it was all she had. She walked with quick, hurried steps and couldn't wait until she was back in the bar, where she felt, well, not safe but less haunted than she usually did. The air was still but the chill hit the young woman like a slap in the face and she hugged herself as she walked, shaking her head to refocus.
The sky was clouded and gray, and the sounds of the city were all around her, drowning out her own thoughts. The night had been restless and she hadn't been able to sleep, and after two hours of lying awake in the bed she had moved to the armchair in the living room, wrapped a blanket around her and stared at the phone. There had been no phone calls this night, and around five she had made herself coffee and jumped into the shower.
Three cups later, she had felt human enough to get dressed and leave for work.
She reached the entrance and for a moment, she stood there, watching her breath rise like a mist into the sky. She smiled to herself and stepped into the warmth.
The warm, slightly stuffy air inside hit her in the face, but she welcomed it. She looked around, removing the scarf around her neck, and saw Matthew sitting in the bar, reading a newspaper. He hadn't noticed her entering, but when Liandra removed the jacket and hung it on a chair, he looked up from the crossword he was working on. "Hey. You look like shit."
Liandra scrounged her face at him. "Thanks. Really." Matthew just shrugged, pulling a hand through the thick, dark hair. "Li, help me? You're always so great with this shit…" He waved the newspaper a bit and Liandra walked over to him, pulling off her gloves. She glanced at the page. Matthew pointed out to her where he was having problems.
Liandra shook her head at him. "Half of half, Matthew? Half of half. What is a half of a half? Seven letters, hint, it begins with a Q." She grinned at him and he made a face at her. Matthew was undoubtedly an attractive man, in his mid thirties, taller than the average, broad-shouldered and sturdy. His hair was thick and dark, but there were a few gray's here and there. His eyes were dark, slightly protruding; his nose thin and with a small bump, his jaw broad and his lips seemed to be smiling all the time.
He owned the bar, and conclusively, he was Liandra's boss. She owed a lot to him; she was young, had no experience, and he'd taught her what she needed to know to work as a bartender. He appreciated Liandra's speed, her ability to learn new things in a flash, and she appreciated his respect for her privacy.
He rolled up the newspaper, grimacing at her. "Yeah, yeah. Well, thing is, I've got to dash for a while. Some important things to take care of. Think you'll be fine on your own, 'til Sander decides to drop by?" Sander was another co-worker, and that was the lot of them really. It wasn't a big place and there weren't that many customers. Seldom where there new faces.
Sander was shorter than Liandra, with a fair complexion. He was a bit stubby, but the beer belly only covered the muscles. He was very strong. He had light brown hair that had grown thin over the years and some time not too far from this he would have a bald spot, which Liandra teased him about. He had watery, blue eyes and a large, sharp nose. Ironically, he was an ex-alcoholic who was now completely sober.
She nodded and Matthew smiled. "Great, darling. Great. Now I've got to be off or I'll be late. See ya." He grabbed his coat and left, and Liandra waved with a smirk on her lips. Off to see the boyfriend he was having an affair with, was he? She joked with herself. Shaking her head, she jumped over the counter and began cleaning the glass
Sander wasn't the most reliable person. He could come and go a bit as he pleased. He was usually late, but that was because he was very easily distracted. Liandra didn't understand much psychology, but Sander's mind was everywhere sometimes. He was sweet, surely, but she would never spend more time with him than at work, same with Matthew.
Then again, she never spent time with anyone outside of work. She had her books. It wasn't like she spent all day and night inside, she actually went out. To the library to read, to cafés where she could sit and scribble in a pad, to museums where she could gather inspiration and watch simple beauty hanging on the walls.
People weren't really her thing. Studying them was fascinating because she would probably never understand the way they behaved, the reason behind their actions. She wanted to, desperately, but had settled for knowing everything about everything else instead.
Not to say she was completely anti-social. Liandra had had a few boyfriends, the total amazing amount adding up to three. Ever. Twenty years old, it was a bit of a laugh but the thought of having someone in her life; living with her constantly… it frightened her. Someone who would want to know things about her, about her past, want her to tell things she didn't want to share.
No, that wasn't for her. She was happy as it was, coming home to an empty apartment and just being able to enjoy the silence. New York was never really quiet, but sometimes Liandra could pretend that she was all alone in the entire world. No one to have responsibilities for, no one to worry about, no one to care about; she didn't get lonely anymore.
"Now this is more my kind of company," she mumbled and picked up the half-assed crossword. She looked it over and corrected the many wrongs of Matthew's and filling in other words. Crosswords were friendly and easy, in every box a letter and every string of letters had to make up a word. It was simple, really.
This one she finished in ten minutes, and then she was bored. Tapping her hands on the table, she chewed a little on her lip, trying to think of something she would like doing right now. She thought a bit about Matthew, about her imaginary boyfriend to him. He was cute, younger than Matthew by about ten years. Light, golden brown hair and happy, carefree eyes, and pointed jaw and feminine cheekbones. A broad nose, which pointed upward a little, and he had freckles. Slim build, he was working as a lawyer, his father was one too. Following daddy's footsteps and both the parents were so proud of him. They supported him; even if he was homosexual, and they only hoped that he would find someone he could be happy with.
Liandra laughed out loud at her little game. It was a pastime she indulged in far too often, but it was also a very good way of finding inspiration to write. She leaned her head against the counter, feeling tired after being awake all night. There was a lot to worry about, and worry led to staying awake.
The door jingled and Liandra looked up, raising her eyebrow. A young man she hadn't seen before stood in the door, looking unsure if he should go in or not. His blond hair was slicked back and his face was a bit round, and his large, burning eyes looked tired. His lips, however, were curled into a dark, cruel smile.
"Liandra Smith?" he asked, and Liandra nodded, feeling her mouth go dry. For the past week, she had been getting phone calls from a stranger, who had made her certain offers. This was the same voice as the one that had been harassing her. She was sure of it, even if he had only spoken her name.
"We have… spoken on the phone. As I'm sure you've already figured out." Liandra just looked at him, blankly, taking him in. He smirked. "My name is Pyro." He was playing with a Zippo lighter, pushing it open and flicking it shut in a repetitive, compulsive manner. All his strength lay in that lighter, Liandra thought. She tried to push it away, her little game, but it wouldn't stop. John Allerdyce, no, Saint John even. He… 'Oh God,' she thought, 'he really is a mutant.'
Saint John, or Pyro, was still smiling. "I'm sure you know why I'm here," he said with a suave confidence Liandra did not like.
"Yes," she said. "And my answer is still the same. Now get out of my bar."
Pyro chuckled. "We could help you, help you develop and make you more powerful than you could ever imagine! The Brotherhood is looking for someone with your precise talents, someone with -" but he didn't get further than that, because the door opened behind him and Matthew entered, together with a slim, freckled young man in a suit and tie.
Matthew had his hand on the gun he carried inside his jacket. "Is there a problem here?" he asked, eyeing Liandra's distressed face and Pyro's smile. "You okay there, Li?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Just get him out."
Pyro smiled wider, holding up his hands. "Don't let me be a bother." He shot a look at Liandra and pointed at her, "See you 'round, Li." Then he casually walked past Matthew and his companion, nodding politely at them before he left.
Liandra sat down on the chair again, not realizing she had stood up. Then she smiled at Matthew, waving her hand. "Nothing to worry about, I would have handled it."
Matthew smiled back at her. "Sander still not in?" She shook her head. "Ah well. Li, there's someone I'd like you to meet. This is Jonathan, my-"
"Boyfriend," Liandra filled in for him, suddenly not smiling anymore. "I've gotta go, Matt."
It wasn't happening. It really couldn't be happening, not again. She had worked so hard on suppressing it, getting rid of it and everything that had to do with it. The incident, four years ago, when she had been fifteen, she had removed it as much as possible. She could never forget, of course, who could forget something like that?
But now it was returning, she could feel it, it was awakening and she didn't like it a single bit.
Liandra was pacing the living room, from the window to the kitchen entrance back to the window, and so forth. Matthew had left a worried message on her answering machine, but he had sounded a little tense. He probably thought it was because of him she had stormed out, because of them. But it really wasn't, she was just…
Things were going out of her control, quickly. And the more she thought about it, the more logical it was, that this game of hers… it wasn't a game and it never had been.
The phone rang. She didn't answer. She knew who it was, because she didn't have any friends. No one else would call her at this hour, and she wasn't sure if she could answer, or if she should.
She picked up the receiver.
"Ah, you finally answered. I was beginning to lose hope." She could hear it, the sadistic smirk on the other end of the phone. I was beginning to worry, Annie. She bit her lower lip. "What is it you want?"
"The same as always. I want to extend an official invitation to you, Miss Smith. To the Brotherhood of Mutants."
"I don't know what you're talking about. As I've told you, I'm not a mutant." She hated this. That he knew, knew what she had kept away from everyone.
She felt the smirk. "Ah, Liandra, but you are. You are very much so. And the sooner you accept this, you can start getting stronger and more powerful. You have the potential of being a very, very powerful telepath and your telekinetic abilities wouldn't be too shabby either." His voice, his words, they were taunting her, trying to cause a reaction.
"Shut up and leave me the hell alone!" she screamed into the receiver, and they both knew he had won this fight. She pressed away the call and wondered if she shouldn't switch back from wireless, only so she could slam the phone on people.
There was a vibration in the air, and Liandra felt she had to calm down. It was some time since she had last had an accident, and then it had only been a small one. Just some broken glasses and stuff like that. This felt worse though, and if she didn't calm down…
She slapped herself lightly and refocused, then decided to take a shower. Some cold water would do her great.
The phone called once more while she was in the shower, and she heard someone leave a message. She dried off and pulled on a robe, went out and clicked the replay machine. The cold, robotic voice told her she had "ONE, new message," and then the beep.
"Hey, Li, it's me, Matt. I was wondering if you're coming back to work tomorrow. I mean, you still work here ya know. Just thought – well, yeah. I'll see ya, kiddo."
There was darkness again. She recognized this darkness. The smell of dust and old carpet surrounded her, and the quiet whimpers filled up her head. She couldn't focus. Everything slipped away, in and out without any sort of grasp. Holding the teddy bear harder, her lips formed a soundless prayer.
"Annie? Annie, where are ye, ya lousy li'l brat!"
Hold your breath. Don't make a sound.
It happened so quickly.
Boom.
She sat up, sleep fading away quickly. She was drenched in cold-sweat and shaking like a baby bird, and bit her lip hard not to scream. The taste of iron filled her mouth, and she slapped herself hard.
Glancing at the clock, Liandra saw that she had gotten two hours of sleep tonight. Were two hours really better than nothing? She wasn't sure. Nightmares were never pleasant. She got up, and jumped into the shower.
An hour later she was fully dressed. It was four in the morning. She sat down in her arm chair and stared out the window, at the never seizing life and sound of the city. That was one of the reasons she loved New York – she was never alone.
Four hours later, she left for work.
It turned out to be about as awkward as she had thought it would be. She explained to Matthew that her running out had nothing to do with him being gay, or bisexual, or whatever he was. The feeling was tense when he left a while after, saying he would be back that afternoon.
The place was empty until eleven, when a few people came, including Bill, one of her favorite regulars. He treated her nice, chatted with her a little every time he came in and didn't look down on her for being so young. Bill, or William Graf, was a middle-aged slightly over-weight man who worked at a bank. He thought his job was dead boring, but stuck with it because of his wife, whom he loved much, and three kids. The oldest one turned fifteen in a months time, and the youngest one had recently turned ten.
Bill had a round face with large eyes, a small, pointy nose and thin lips. His hairline has risen a little in the past years, and there were some grays here and there, but for the most part it was still there on his head. Today, he was wearing a dark grey suit over a striped, blue-and-white shirt.
He smiled and sat down by the bar when he came in. "Hey, Liandra," he said cheerily, but looked her over and changed facial expression to a frown. "What's up, you seem a bit tense?"
She shrugged and smiled, pouring him a beer. "Ah, nothing really. I haven't slept all that well, is all." Bill smiled warm-heartedly at her. "Sure, kid?" she nodded. More people came in and she went in to the small kitchen to fix a few lunches.
When she came out again, she was greeted by a most unpleasant sight. The most unpleasant sight smirked and waved as he saw her. "Miss Smith, how nice that you're in."
"Wish I could say the same, Pyro," she grunted and handed out the lunches. She felt Pyro's eyes burning in the back of her neck, and did her best to act normally. When she returned to the disk, Bill raised his eyebrows at her. She shrugged and smiled.
"What do you want, Pyro?" she muttered and took out a rag to swab the bar, just to have something to do. Pyro chuckled. "You know what I want, Li." Again with the mocking way of saying her name. "I want you to come with me."
"And I've already given you my answer." She growled, looking him straight in the eye. "No way in hell."
Pyro smirked. "I'm almost happy you say that." He stood up and then cackled like a maniac, snapping his fingers. Large flames of fire spurted from his hands, and he beamed at her. Bill ran up to his feet, and the other customers screamed and most of them ran out. Pyro didn't stop them, but had his focus set on Liandra.
"C'mon, pretty. Join us. You'll be strong and powerful! Join in and have a piece of the new world."
Liandra was frightened, and glanced to Bill, who looked like he really didn't know what to do. Pyro cackled again. "Too slow, pretty. Hope you like barbeque!" He aimed his arms to Bill and long flames licked their way to him, eating the furniture on its way.
By pure instinct, Liandra threw out her hand toward Bill as the flames began eating at him. He was screaming, but didn't move.
Pyro stopped shooting fire at Bill, and turned to Liandra again. "Looks like you know more than I thought you did, huh?" He laughed more. "Well, I think you'd better come with me because-" She didn't want to hear what he had to say. She really didn't want to hear.
With a flick of her other hand, she threw Pyro into a wall. It felt good, using her power to do this, it felt right, but she knew, she knew that it was wrong of her. She would have to run away again, leave New York.
"Stronger than I thought. Ready to use your powers," Pyro coughed and then laughed. Liandra growled and aimed her arms at the flames, trying to close them in the way she had closed in Bill, who was still standing frozen, staring at the both of them. "Bill, get out, please." She growled, feeling her strength fail. She was not used to using her powers, and the fire was strong. And Pyro was definitely stronger than she.
"Bill, please." She muttered through gritted teeth, as Pyro directed his flames at her. She let go of the flames and held her arms in front of her, creating a protective shield. The flames pushed against the shield, but she forced it back.
Back on to Pyro, who was pushed back by the force.
The door flew open, and someone dressed in dark clothes came in, blasting Pyro with some sort of laser. Liandra's eyes widened, but her powers failed her, and everything went black.
So, I want to know. What do you think? Should I keep on? Or is it not worth it?