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The young girl began to ponder her existence. Such a thing is common when faced with certain death. She mulled over the last three days; her employers – parents – had told her to keep a lookout for another "Crazy-ass American X-Man hit squad boy-band thing". That meant rival gang with mutant hit men. When her father had refused to go into greater detail, she went to ask her mom - the lady with the flower garden near the huge trees.

~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~

"Mama. Mama. MAAAMAAA!
"VAT?!" The middle-aged German woman looked up at her least favorite daughter from the quilt pattern she was designing. Only child, actually. Mama didn't like kids.
"What am I looking for? Papa said boy-band. Are they scary? Do they have swords? Will they kill me?"
"Hopefully."
"Ah-haha. Ha. Mama you're funny…"
"Ja? Go keep lookout. Come back one week."

And that had been the end of that conversation. The griffin-girl had to go to her last resort, the family's drug maker to see if he knew anything about these X-people. She used the bookcase to reach the spiderwebish-twisty-turny underground chambers where all the illegal activities took place. Everything was for sale in the Stillman's basement, from drugs to people to the sadly discontinued Twinkies.

The drug-dealer, Garvey, was an elderly Irish gentleman who was constantly in a foul mood and had a permanent grey cloud over his head. He was probably her most favorite person in the world, and possibly her only friend. Well, she thought they were friends. Garvey disliked her intensely.

~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~

More than three minutes had passed and the girl still had not moved from her spot on the third step. Man. Pondering takes a long time. The only sound she could hear was eerie quietness echoing between the stone passages; usually you could hear the soft clink of bottles, the metallic rattle of chains or the quiet moans from the people waking up from being knocked out.

But nothing's moving now. They've killed them all.

Honestly, she was too afraid to go down. Sure, mostly they couldn't hurt her as long as she was in her stony form, but it was still scary. Hit squads she could handle, but hit squad boy-bands? She scrunched her face. Now that she thought about it, Papas code names were actually pretty stupid. Griffin decided that the best way to make her way down was to keep her mind off the fact that she was about to die; either by her parents if the boy-bands had already left, or by the boy-bands of they were hiding in her house. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and thought back to the first time she had questioned her father's use of code words, and slowly descended…

~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~

"Papa why do you call them boy-bands?"
"Because they go as quickly as they come. Mutants vill disappear quickly, I vill make sure of this."
There was a slightly awkward pause as the griffin-girl waited for her father to tell her that she was the most beautiful off all the mutants, and that they would keep her. But… he didn't.
"Uh… Papa…?"
"Vat?"
"… Duh. Uhm. Papa… uh… I am. A mutant. Remember? The talons… uhm… I am… bird… rocks…"
Her father continued his blank stare at her. The point? He seemed to be saying.
"Well… never mind."
"Good."

They had continued to walk around the garden that the girls' mother had been tending to earlier. The scene was pretty, but the conflicting smells from the flowers were making both of them sick to their stomachs. While exiting the shrubbery maze, her father stooped down and plucked a particularly frail yellow carnation from the ground. Its seed had been planted near a rock, and didn't have anywhere to put its roots. He held the pathetic foliage in his hand and considered tearing it apart. Something as ugly as the carnation did not deserve to exist in his wife's carefully looked after garden. He turned to his daughter, and offered her the flower.

"Vant this?"
The girl eyed the flower skeptically. It was limp and smashed and had some petals missing. She took the offered stem with lone flower, however.
"Danke. It's… flower."
Her father looked at her out the corner of his eye. "Ja".
He straightened his back and smoothed his jacket down. "I am going inside. You stay out here."
"No, I'm coming in too-"
"Was not question." Papa answered.

He left her there, with her pathetic flower, staring at him confusedly. He did not like pathetic things, but he preferred them staying in the garden than in the house.

~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~

The girl was now at the bottom of the stairs. That last flashback had made her feel a bit sad. She remembered having stayed outside for several hours, before coming in. She'd taken the flower in with her though, and had planted it in its own box with fancy dirt. The pitiful blossom had grown as far as the small box had allowed it to, and when it could grow no more, she had made it its own garden inside her own room. She then took the rock that had almost choked the flower in her mother's garden and moved it to the flowerbox that the she had created in her own room. The rock was dwarfed compared to how big the flower had gotten. Take that rock.

"I shall call you Butter." She had whispered to the flower once.

She groaned out loud when she remembered that she used to talk to her flower. No matter though. She had made her way down the main passage and had stopped at the fork in passages. The left one led to the human/mutant holding cells. She tried to stay away from that part. She instead took the path on the right. At the end of the hall was a heavy metal door complete with a twelve digit passcode, retina scanner and massive padlock. The girl paused before opening the door. What if the boy band was behind the door? What if they had medusa-powers and could turn her to stone if she looked into their eyes? Wait… stone. She had forgotten to get back into her griffin form.

If she was going to take on these guys, she'd go in guns blazing. If she had any. Mostly she just had chunks of rocks. But she was prepared! Once completely griffin-fied, the girl inched forward, shoulders square, head high, stony feathers aptly ruffled and stony eyes… stoned. She braced herself, huffed, and then blasted through the door…

OoO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OoO

"Definitely not crack." Dr. McCoy announced with certainty.
Iceman groaned, kicked over a trashcan and exited the lab.
The rest of the group watched him leave and then turned their attention back to the fluffy doctor.
"Go on." Scott prompted.
"Right, right," Dr. McCoy tried to regain his train of thought from the sudden outburst. "Well it's not crack. Or spices. And it's definitely not burnt human remains either."
Nightcrawler let out a sigh of relief.
"It's actually a bag of dirt."
"Dirt?" Jean and Remy asked in unison.
"Yes." The doctor sifted through a small pile of the substance in question, "It's actually just very fine granite… some slate has been mixed in as well."
"Any idea what it was used for?"
"Most likely," the doctor mused, "this was an artifact of sort. Maybe the slate was used for decorative pieces? It must have broken… not sure why it's in a bag though. These are very common materials."
"Maybe they were making another decoration?" Jubilee snapped her gum and gave her two cents worth. It was very boring down in the lab, but she wanted to hear Wolverines tale of epicosity and fearless door-kicking.
"Possibly…" Hank McCoy had no idea what you could make with a sack of granite and slate; nothing too nefarious… unless you planned on hitting someone with it.

"Well. I didn't really expect anything too substantial" Professor X chuckled, "But never before have you brought me back a sack of dirt."
"It was Remy's idea" Kurt insisted.
Remy snorted. "You were da one who blessed it an' cried over it."
"I thought it was a person! …Wolverine said it was a person."

The small group looked over to where Wolverine was leaning against a wall, uninterested, and smoking a cigar. He scowled and talked around the thing in his mouth. "I know what I smell. And that's a thing." He jabbed his finger angrily in the general direction of the sack and turned to go back upstairs.
Scott tensed up, "There's no need to get so defensive, Logan. Maybe the dust was throwing you off…"
"Bub, Imma 'bout to throw you off that cliff we were at…" Logan continued down the hallway, in a perfectly foul mood. Definitely a thing, He grouched. Nothing was going to convince him otherwise.

~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~

Professor X stared out his office window, contemplating the last unsuccessful semi-raid on the Stillmans. The family based crime ring had recently sunk its teeth into a small piece of Michigan, and the normally complacent Lake people had started rioting in the streets. Drugs were coming up from nowhere, people were being killed left and right, and both humans and mutants had just started… disappearing. The professor knew what was happening, the same scenario had occurred in Germany some seven years ago. First the family and its "relatives" would come in and make friends with the people, make promises and bribe officials, resulting in shady drug dealings that weren't looked into, resulting in deaths, resulting in people being kidnapped during the confusion and riots, resulting in the politicians doing nothing. Charles could only imagine what was happening to the people who were labeled as missing. Most likely being traded to some secret government sector and used for testing or experiments, turned into monsters, or tortured. The professors mind wandered to closest person he knew who had been through all that already.

The professor rubbed his brow and sighed. He was too old for this. He needed a drink. Like, water or something.

There was a light knock on his door. "Come in, you can always just come in…" he chuckled as the fiery red headed woman came in with a large glass of water.
"Thought you might want this…" Jean trailed off, smiling.
"It's like you can read my mind." The Professor took the offered glass and smiled back.

Jean watched her troubled leader as he nonchalantly sipped at his shaken not stirred glass of water.
"Professor…"
"Don't fret, Jean. We'll deal with these people quickly. We simply need more inside information before we shut them down. Naturally I've already tried Cerebro, but evidently, they've got someone shielding them."
"Maybe we should go back? The place was abandoned. Maybe we might find something in the daylight…"
"The house is most definitely not abandoned." Charles said. "It's the Stillmans home. It's been in their family for over fifteen generations, they would never completely leave. I don't think that deal we caught wind of there was their only deal, I think it was the only one that was able to slip though their defenses. Why else would they shield the place twenty four seven? Their house is the last place you'd expect to find a well-known organization, and I think they're taking advantage of that presumption."
Jean understood the professors' line of thought. And a shield would explain why, if there was someone there, she couldn't feel them. "So back to my original question…?"
The professor looked up at her. "Yes, maybe it would be best if we did it quickly instead of waiting too long… I'd like you and the rest of the team to go back and really search the place. I would have liked to avoid a scene, but…"

The professor motioned to the muted TV in the corner of the room. It was turned to the news, where two rioting groups had joined into a miniature army and were attempting to drown Lake Superior.
"The drugs…?" Jean asked.
"Whatever they're on, it must be some powerful stuff…"

~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~

After much complaining that they'd just gone out, Remy and Wolverine were eventually strapped into the jets seats and hurdled back towards Germany.

"Dis is getting old. We wouldn't have to do dis if your nose jus' worked right the first time."
"It works great. It's you idiots who didn't find-"
"Maybe the reason it wasn't a clue is because it didn't taste like one" Kurt interjected.
Logan looked back at him, and Kurt was very grateful that Logan was strapped into his seat and hated flying.
"Okay listen up," Scott shouted back "Professor X said we could get our hands dirty this time, so don't feel bad about ripping their plush pillows apart or putting the books back once you take them off the shelf."
Nightcrawler sighed in relief. That had taken a long time.

As they neared the Stillmans home, Jean could sense that the shield was no longer in place. I wonder if the Professor managed to take it down? It seemed odd though; there were definitely people down there… thousands of them. Literally. Jean placed her fingers near her temples and tried to drown out the noise of nearly two thousand voices crying out for help. It was getting painful.
"You alright?" Logan was looking at her concernedly.
"Yeah…" Jean didn't sound so sure. "There are definitely people there"
"Any idea how many?" Scott asked.
"Probably over a thousand" Jean said through a pained smile.
The jet went quiet.
"Das… quite a few…" was all Remy could come up with.
"I guess we'll find out what's happening once we land" Scott replied. "I'm going to approach this place differently. We'll follow the Rhine and make our way up the cliff this time. Might be more discreet."
"Thought we didn't need to be discreet" Logan sulked. He was in a smashing mood.
"We'll enter quietly and take it from there. What do you say Jean? …Jean?"

Jean merely nodded. The sounds were becoming louder the closer they got. Through all the screaming and crying though, she could make out one noise in particular. It sounded like someone was singing…

OoO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OoO

"WAS ZUR HÖLLE?!" Garvey screamed. He stared at the animated griffin sculpture that had just busted through a six inch metal door. The living stone creature seemed just as surprised as he was, as it jumped a few feet backwards at the sound of his voice. The granite statute turned to where he was and frowned, and cocked its head.

"Garvey?" It croaked.
Garvey continued to stare. He had to lay off his drugs; this was the sickest thing he'd ever seen. "Uh… ja?"
The granite beast continued to stare at him, though now it looked slightly anxious and pained.
"Garvey where are they?"
Garvey couldn't think of anything intelligent to say. It sounded like the thing just said 'Gaudy wear owl day'. It was hard to understand it over the scraping stone accent that it had.
"Uh… ja?"
The creature stood there for a few more seconds, then approached him quickly
"No-mmph" his mouth was quickly covered and shushed as the thing rushed him out of his drug lab and up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~

The griffin was now aptly terrified. Were these people messing around with her? Making her think she knew what was going on? This day was spiraling down quickly on the list of her "best day ever" book. She half hopped half flew up the stairs and into the foyer, and deposited the Irishman on his ass near the shattered door. The poor man was red in the face from all the stress, or maybe he was just very angry.

The first course of action that he took once she had set him down was to take a large piece of door and crack it against her head. This, of course, did nothing except make a few flakes of granite swirl to the ground and his hands ache. He looked up from his piece of door and into one of the beasts' unblinking eyes. For some reason, all he could come up with was "Lorelei". He went with it.

"Die… Lorelei?" maybe it was a passcode or something.
The lion-bird ducked its head a bit so that it was eye level with him. Its brow furrowed slightly, and if it had eyelids, the gesture would probably resemble squinting.

~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~

"Die Lorelei" was worried for her friend. He'd never called her `The Lorelei' before. Usually it was just Lorelei. Or Ass-hat. She liked the last one, he said it funny. After and awkward stare that was exchanged between the two, she accepted that he was not in fact an imposter.

"Has anyone gone by? Where are the intruders? Where are Mama and Papa?"
Garvey continued to watch the creature in front of him. It was trying to communicate with him, but he was too high and it was too stony for him to form any rational thought.
Lorelei waited for him to say something intelligent, but when nothing came out, she gave up and instead opted for the shaking method. "Garvey where is everyone?!" She screamed.
"LORELEI!"

Lorelei spun around and looked for the source of the voice. It was Papa, on the top of the stairs. He looked pissed.
"Hi…" She grated.
"Lorelei vat are you doing?"
She looked down and the grinning Irishman who was beyond tripping by this point. "Uh…" She wasn't sure if she was more scared of the codename boy-bands, or her father. She went with boy-bands. "Papa… there are people…"
The earth seemed to slow down for a minute as her father's rage seemed almost palpable. He must have connected the broken door with the fact that she was in her other form and inside the house.
"Lorelei…" he hissed through his teeth.
She ducked her head and looked up at him "But Papi…"

Through their exchange of glares and glances, both father and daughter noticed a slight whirring sound, as though a large computer where overheating and trying to cool down. Lorelei had no idea what the sound was, but Papa looked horrified and practically flew down the stairs. So graceful she thought, he doesn't even have wings and he does it better than I do. Not that her wings were even useful anyways. She couldn't fly. She could, however, fall with style if she found a high enough perch. But she couldn't take off. If this world made less sense than it does now, she mused; I'd rip the wings off of that nasty angel fountain and use those instead.

~~~~~~~~OoO~~~~~~~~~

Garvey was eventually able to return to his post without hyperventilating once it was explained to him that, yes, Mr. Stillmans daughter was a mutant, and yes, her superpower was the ability to basically turn into a fancily shaped rock, and yes, he wasn't tripping as hard as he thought he was.

Lorelei was so relieved that her father wasn't freaking out about the false alarm and smashed doors that she didn't mind helping him out when he called her to fix some brain machine. He explained to her that it was vital to keep this machine running at all times, else the estates only real source of protection would collapse and leave them vulnerable. What we really need, she figured, is a sonic screwdriver that will fix this thing without yammering on about it.

Her father was still working on the stupid thing when the cuckoo on the clock danced around ten times. He was getting angry and nervous. Lorelei would probably have understood why if she had been paying attention when he explained what the machine did. Something about a shield?
"Is it still broken?"
"JA!" her father roared.
The now human formed griffin decided that the best place to be during this time was not there.

Lorelei made her way upstairs where her mother was cleaning up and muttering about "useless children" and "beautiful doors".
"Need help Ma?"
"Oh nooo." Mama answered, "I'll just do everyone else's job around here."
Lorelei stood there, knowing Mama didn't want to clean it, and also knowing that if she tried to clean it herself Mama would complain. There was no making anyone happy.
"I'm going outside…" she mumbled. "To watch…"
"Oh, ja. Lot of good that did last time."

Lorelei walked to the back of the house and climbed her way up the wall to her perch. What a shitty day, she moaned. And its not even noon yet. As she sat tall against the wall, she didn't bother to scowl or pull her face. Today, I shall just be a griffin, she told herself. She kept one eye on the angel statue and another on the Rhine's horizon, watching for a random invisible person to try to knock down her door. She felt the wind tickle the back of her neck, and she couldn't help but shiver and wonder if maybe someone was there…

It's no one. Probably no one is there. :)
This chapter was twice as long because I couldn't figure out a good place to end it. But hopefully I picked a good spot... So... this is most likely going to be a fairly short story. But this is fun. For me. I'm having fun. Thanks for reading my rambles though!