Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Wed Mar 03, 2004 1:32 pm

YAY! YOURE BACK!

Bell’ Idol Mio

Story note: Like my previous story about Bobby Drake, Ridi, Pagliaccio, this story’s title is from part of an Italian opera aria. The title means “My Beautiful Idol,” and I chose it because it fits the theme of this story. (The previous story title means “Laugh, Clown,” in case you were interested.)

I headed down to breakfast and made it to the dining area without having to ask for directions this time. Good. I was memorizing the layout well.

The dining area was full of students and teachers, all claiming seats at the numerous folding tables scattered throughout the room. Through the small windows in the back wall, I saw that it was raining again. I chose a bagel and a muffin and poured a good strong cup of coffee, then hesitated. Where should I sit? All of the tables had at least one person sitting at them.

A characteristic white streak caught my eye. My friend Rogue was at a table in the back, reading a lurid paperback novel. I made my way to her, and she smiled as I approached. She was wearing her uniform.

“Do you always wear black and white, Jean-Paul, or do you have any other colors for special occasions?” She turned the top of the page she had been reading over and closed the book. Love’s Eternal Torment. Funny. She had finished one last week that I could have sworn had the same title.

“I have them.” I put my coffee down carefully, then my plate. “I do not often wish to wear anything else.” I sat gingerly, then more firmly. This chair was stable under me.

“Nothing but spandex? Me too.” Mon Dieu, no. Bobby Drake took the seat next to me and grinned. “Feels good, looks good, wears well. Everyone should wear it, right?”

“Bobby!” Rogue playfully hit him. His electric blue shirt crinkled a little, and he pointed to it.

“You hurt Norman’s feelings.” He unbuttoned it. “Here. Live a little.” He tossed the shirt around my shoulders.

I winced. Rogue cocked her head. “You know, Jean-Paul, it looks real good on you. You should wear blue sometimes. It brings out the color of your eyes.”

I removed the shirt and smoothed my black sweater out a little. “I would not wear a dress shirt over a sweater, especially in class, but thank you, Bobby.” I reluctantly gave the shirt back to him. Under it, he wore nothing but a thin white undershirt. He was well muscled. I tore my eyes from him and concentrated on spreading cream cheese on my bagel.

“Your choice. But I’m telling you, if you hurt Norman’s feelings too, he’s gonna wrinkle and fade.” He threw the blue shirt over the back of his chair and started scooping syrup and pancakes into his mouth.

“So, what’s up for you today, J-P?” Rogue’s green eyes met mine.

“Class. And for you?” I bit into my bagel, trying to ignore Bobby, who was licking his index finger to get the syrup off it.

“Danger Room practice, martial arts training, the usual. Might as well wear my uniform, you know?”

Bobby gulped some milk. “I’m going to teach some basic accounting, then hit the Danger Room myself. It might even be able to recover afterward.” Rogue snickered and I groaned. He took this as encouragement and waved his knife dramatically. “Accountants of doom, unite!”

“Oh, God. Make him stop, Jean-Paul. Please.” Rogue gagged.

I raised an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to when you can’t?”

Bobby smirked. “So you’re saying you give up just because she’s a woman? I smell sexism.”

I looked over at him. His brown eyes met mine, gleaming with good humor and challenge. His right hand was relaxed on the table not six inches from my own hand. Inwardly, I sighed. I knew I would regret this later.

I seized his hand, surrounding it with mine, and swiftly pinned his thumb. “No. I’m saying you’re too annoying for either of us to stop.”

“Whoa.” He tried to pull out of my grip, but Rogue put her hand atop mine and held our hands together.

“Together we can, though.” She winked at me.

“Precisely,” I rejoined. His hand was warm, hard, and a little sweaty.

He beamed. “Okay, okay. You double teamed me. I’ll just have to do better next time.”

“You wish.” Rogue let go and got up, scraping her chair across the floor. “Gotta go. Enjoy class, y’all.”

I gave his hand a squeeze, then dropped it. “I had better leave as well.”

Bobby nodded. “See ya around.”

I took my plate and cup and rinsed them in the sink. I hoped I would see him, but I also hoped I would not. Bobby would never consider me as more than a friend. His entire romantic history was with women, from his first girlfriend to his latest sex partner, Kitty Pryde.

Anyway. It was time for class. I ignored the way my hand tingled with the warmth of his as I walked the halls to my room.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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A Beginning

Post by Wolvertique » Fri Mar 05, 2004 1:00 pm

Defeated. Again. My dear, dear brother cast me out of my body and made my revelations about himself and his precious school useless. Frustrated and angry, discorporated. As I had been for years before. I learned that word from Pet Sematery. My kind of movie, coming back from beyond the grave for revenge.

He destroyed me before I had a chance to slay him. He will regret that. How he dared to cast me out after trying to kill me … of course, I was trying to kill him at the time, but he had no right!

I’ve been watching him for months now. He’s gotten close to the white-haired weather witch-bitch. He’s pretending he loves her, like everyone pretends to love. Its a disgusting sight. What he’s really doing is breeding frantically, like the animal he is. Like we all are, deep down. He pretends to care so that she will give birth to his child, give him what he wants.

I want to take it from him.

It is a boy. No matter. I can wait. I’ve waited a long time for the chance I have tonight. The boy is weak, only a fragment of his father’s power. I cast him out in seconds and the shell of his body starts to die. I enter the body and sleep, waiting for rebirth.

I have patience. I can wait. Perhaps on "my" eighteenth birthday, I can give "daddy" the gift Ive been waiting to give him for all my life. The only question is how, and who should watch as their precious professor dies.

I smile as I rest, safe within her body. Revenge is so sweet.

******************
All unknowing, Charles Xavier kissed his wife and gently touched her swelling belly, and she held him close, dreaming of their soon to be born child.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Waking Up to the Challenge

Post by Wolvertique » Fri Mar 05, 2004 1:34 pm

He groaned and turned off his alarm, then settled back into bed. He wished he was back at his uncle's cabin on the lake, fishing and watching the sun rise, listening to the birds greet the day.

He opened his eyelids a crack, pretending he was at the cabin. The first light of the sun met his eyes. He listened for the birds. Ah, Kurt was heading out, most likely to meet Wanda for Go-Kart racing again. Those two were crazy about it. Personally, he preferred mini golf, but whatever made them happy...

Hm. Bobby was taking a shower this morning. He opened his eyes another crack. The sky lightened, and he could almost see his hand in front of his face. A shout came from Bobby's bathroom. "Purple? LOGAN!"

He smiled. He had forgotten that Logan was still seeking revenge for the "replace shower water with blue dye" trick Bobby had pulled a week ago.

The sun shot more rays across the water. He could see the fish jumping. Bobby had left the shower and was running furiously down the hall. Stealthy steps passed after Bobby had gone by and slipped into his room.

The sun shot up. He saw Logan standing there, holding a finger across his lips, and he nodded. He let go of his fantasy. It was time to get up anyway.

He pulled on his clothes, listening to the furious ranting as Bobby interrogated Hank. He opened his door and shouted, "Hey, Bobby! He's in here!" and ran down the hall, hearing an angry growl and laughing his ass off.

a. Use a recurring metaphor in a one-shot - Done, sun images
b. Use a Kurwanda relationship reference at least once - Done, they regularly play Go-Karts
c. Have five or less lines of dialogue - Done, only two lines of people speaking at all, Bobby and my narrator
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Toil and Trouble - Another Challenge

Post by Wolvertique » Sat Mar 06, 2004 1:52 pm

He smiled as she walked into the private room off the bar. Smoke, loud complaining, and a blast of "Dancing Queen" followed, then she closed the door.

He pretended to tip his hat. "Hey, pretty lady."

She rolled her eyes. "Remy, knock it off. I am married."

"So's Remy." He winked. "Don't bother me none, chere."

"You are such a flirt." She pulled out the other folding chair from the card table and sat in it.

"Water's wet, too. You a real mistress of the obvious." He laughed. He enjoyed their monthly poker game at least partly because of the teasing. Wanda reacted more violently to it than anyone else.

She slammed a fist into the wall. "Save it for Rogue, would you? Where is she, anyway? Off on some mission?"

He shuffled the cards. "Nah. She and Kurt out shoppin' again." He dealt out five cards to each and looked at his hand.

"Remy, do you ever worry about them spending so much time together?" She looked up from her cards seriously.

He shrugged. "Nope. Just like Vision shouldn't worry 'bout you spendin' so much time wit' Quicksilver."

"All right." She frowned at her cards. "Now tell me again, what's the difference between a straight and a flush?"

a) make reference to a Gambit/Scarlet Witch relationship

b) make reference to a Nightcrawler/Rogue relationship

c) no angst
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Finding Home

Post by Wolvertique » Sat Mar 06, 2004 2:01 pm

Author’s Note: I have been a cockatiel owner since 1994, when I asked my mother for one for my college graduation present. She asked me why I wanted one and I told her that I wanted something to love. This story is based in that love for these wonderful animals, and in part on how my mother’s male cockatiel, Sunny, found us. (He showed up in my grandmother’s back yard, shrieking at her and demanding she take him in. We, of course, did so.) Italics are what the male ‘tiel in this story is thinking/doing from his perspective.

He rested at last. He had been traveling forever, searching for his flock, and now he was fatigued and hungry. There was no food where he was and the last time he had found food, he had been attacked by scary black birds who were better fighters than he. He had to find some people. They had food. They could protect him from the others.

Nightcrawler slipped through the woods quietly. It was his turn to hunt down Logan, but he had lost the other man’s trail, so now he hoped to pick it up before Wolverine hunted him down in turn.

A person! He was not used to seeing people in the trees, but he didn’t question it. With a shriek of joy, he flung himself toward the person. Hunger would be satisfied. He would no longer be alone and in danger!

Nightcrawler looked up. A bird was screaming in the trees nearby. He cautiously slinked around a few more and saw a large gray bird with a yellow face flapping its gray and white wings and making demanding cries while Wolverine frantically tried to hush it.

The person did not notice him. He would have to be more noticeable. He increased the pitch of his calls and started moving violently, so the person could see him. He flapped his wings furiously and attacked the tree branch he was standing on.

“I believe I win, mein freund,” he said, trying not to laugh as Logan turned and glared at the bird.

“It’s not fair. You had help.” The bird leapt onto his leg and Kurt lost the battle with his laughter. Logan looked at the animal and frowned. “What the hell do you want? You already lost me my hunt.”

The person noticed him! Great! He was going to be fed. He waited, but no food appeared. He started nibbling the stuff he was standing on to show the stupid person what he needed. That usually got him food.

Logan growled as the bird started attacking his leg, nibbling and biting. “My calf ain’t a toy, bird.”

“Maybe it is, to him.” Kurt held out a hand. “Come down and bring him with you. Maybe we can find him a home.”

“As long as it isn’t in my room, I’m fine with that.” The bird hopped onto his hand eagerly and he put the bird on his shoulder, then made his way down the tree carefully.

This human was well-trained. It knew to offer the stick-thing so he could ride on it. Maybe this human would be his new flock.

“He seems friendly.” Kurt approached the bird as it rode on Logan’s shoulder. Its yellow crest feathers, long and slender, rose tall as he came closer and its gray feathers pulled in close to its body. It made a small, low hiss as he extended his index finger to touch its wing.

This one might be a human, but it was like no other human he had ever seen. Its feathers were all wrong and all over its body, its eyes were strange, and its stick-things were huge and scary. He warned it off aggressively, hissing and biting at the scary-human.

Logan laughed. “Guess he don’t like you, elf.” The bird fluffed out again as Kurt took a few steps back. Its bright black eyes followed the man as he began walking with Logan again.

“He just doesn’t know me yet.” Kurt tried not to feel hurt by the animal’s rejection, but it did sting a little.

He was calm now. He was with flock. He had been so lonely! He started talking to the new flock, explaining how happy he was and how much he wanted to be with flock, and telling this flock not to get lost. His previous flock had gotten lost, so he worried about this one. It might get lost too.

“Hey. A little less noise there.” Logan’s admonition was ignored by the bird, which was whistling and chirping enthusiastically into his ear. The bird gave a loud, perfect, enthusiastic wolf-whistle as they approached the back door, drawing curious looks and stern glances from Storm’s gardening class.

Bobby Drake was seated on the stairs as they entered. He stared at the animal. “Hey, Logan, you got a growth on your shoulder there.” Kurt shut the door hard and the bird squeaked, then flew up as high as it could and perched near the ceiling, clinging to the woodwork with both gray feet.

Scary noise. Scary noises mean get up high as possible, after warning flock. He then watched as the things below him talked to him. He liked being talked to. He listened curiously as their voices got louder, then one of the things left.

“I could have gone, you know.” Kurt sat on the landing and sighed.

“You woulda scared him off. If he got that scared by the door, just think how intimidating your teleporting is.” Logan scratched his head, looking toward the bird, which was contentedly nibbling its feathers.

“I hope Kitty can get him soon, before he decides to go somewhere else.”

He felt good. He would be better with food, though. He decided to remind the flock to feed him.

The bird started ferociously chewing on the wood carving it was standing on as Kitty ran through the wall and into the room. “Wow. He’s pretty.” She walked through the air over to the bird, which watched her warily.

He did not trust new things, normally, so he kept his eye on this one. It was small and made soothing sounds at him. He decided to greet it politely, as if it were flock.

The bird pulled back its head, then extended it and let out a long, slow wolf-whistle. Kitty laughed. “Hi, cutie!”

He got attention. He liked getting attention. He decided to greet the human again.

The bird held up one foot and wolf-whistled once more, stretching his neck and holding his wings out from his body. “Come here, you,” Kitty giggled as she held a finger out to the bird. He stepped delicately onto her finger. “I know whose birdie you are. You’re Remy’s, aren’t you, making up to women like this?”

The bird began singing enthusiastically, mixing bird calls with wolf-whistles in an odd blend of sound as Kitty took him back down to the ground, talking to him quietly and saying what a good bird he was.

“So, what kind of bird is this?” Logan watched as the bird leaped to Kitty’s shoulder and started grabbing at the back of her right ear, trying to reach the back of her earring.

“He’s a cockatiel. Stop that!” The cockatiel flinched away from her harsh words and made a distressed noise, then tried to get at the earring back again.

“Need some help with the sweet little birdie?” Bobby had been highly amused by the entire affair and still had a big grin on his face.

“Oh, blow it out your ear, Bobby.” Kitty took the bird onto her hand with some difficulty. He had something in his beak he was crunching. “My earring, give it back.” She held out her hand under the cockatiel’s beak.

He was not going to give up the neat toy he had found. He turned away from the stick things that were trying to steal his plaything and kept chewing on it. It felt good in his beak. He ran his tongue over it as he chewed on it.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Rowena » Sun Mar 07, 2004 2:05 pm

I really like this cockatiel story! Will there be more of it? The rest of the stories were great too! :D
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei

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Finding Home, Resolving Issues

Post by Wolvertique » Tue Mar 09, 2004 1:24 pm

Kitty forced the bird's beak open and took her earring back out of his mouth, earning a hiss and a threatening near-bite. She plopped him on Kurt's shoulder. "Here, fuzzy. Keep him for us till we come back with a cage and food for him."

He was uncertain of this strange human now. It was with the other humans and had not been too scary, but he was still a little nervous. He decided to watch it closely.

The bird got thin and watched him warily as he walked along the hall to the kitchen, but it didn't fly away or try to bite him. He smiled. The animal probably did not truly hate him.

He got out a bowl and a spoon, then searched the freezer. The only ice cream left was some old, disgusting Rocky Road and an unopened container of vanilla. He took out the vanilla and started scooping it into the bowl.

Food! The human had the sweet food he loved so much with his Other flock! He started down the human's arm toward the food.

"Bird!" Kurt put the animal back on his shoulder again. He kept crawling down Kurt's sleeve, making it impossible to serve out the ice cream.

Maybe he needed to persuade the human that he really was flock. He started off by giving the flock call. That usually got him what he wanted.

The bird raised one foot, cocked a bright brown eye, and wolf-whistled into his face. Kurt grinned. "Kitty's right. You are like Remy." He sat down at the table with his bowl and spoon, lifting a bite of ice cream to his mouth.

Oh boy. The human was bringing him the food. He ran around and started nibbling it straight from the thing it was on. Food, food, food, food ...

"Bird!" Kurt was amazed by and amused at the animal's arrogance. He ran up and started savagely biting at the ice cream before Kurt could get it anywhere near his mouth. The bird shook his head, scattering bits of ice cream all over his uniform and the table, but kept taking bites of the ice cream.


He had forgotten the Food was wet, so he shook his head as he ate. Food was so good! He decided to thank the strange flock for the food.

The bird cocked his head and rubbed his beak on his uniform, then whistled at him and tried for the spoon again. "No," he told the bird, firmly. "I may not know much about birds, but I am certain that you should not have ice cream."
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Lauren » Tue Mar 09, 2004 2:14 pm

that cockatiel story is soooo adorable! *huggles cockatiels all over the world*
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

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Finding Home: New Name

Post by Wolvertique » Thu Mar 11, 2004 12:44 pm

Gambit sauntered into the mansion after a late night that turned into a late morning. He opened the refrigerator door, finding with relief that no one had taken his patented hangover remedy, strawberry Gatorade.

He was rested and fed. There was a human. He called to it from his new place.

A loud wolf whistle came behind him, and he nearly dropped the bottle, but caught himself and turned around. He didn't see anyone, but there was a gray bird with a yellow face looking at him from a shiny new cage by the window. "You talk to Remy, bird?"

The human was making meaningless noises at him. It must be flock. Flock made meaningless noises at him a lot yesterday, when he ate for two hours straight and when he played with his toys. He chirped again.

The bird made an odd beeping noise. It was imitating the microwave. He laughed. "So you like nuked food? Maybe Remy have to teach you 'bout real cooking."

"What makes you think you can, Cajun?"

Without turning around, the lanky man relaxed and said, "The sarcasm, gruffness, the teasin', must be Jean."

A snort. "Figures you're talkin' to yourself over there."

Remy turned and saw Logan leaning against the counter, leather jacket dangling from his hand. "Talkin' to myself?"

Flock was ignoring him. This was intolerable. He started making louder and more annoying sounds, screeching and whistling, so flock would pay attention to him.

The bird had been making quiet noises under their conversation, but now was increasing pitch and volume, and Remy covered his ears. Logan laughed. "Gotta get in on it, bird? You're more like the Cajun than I thought."

"So what his name?" Remy watched as the animal, pleased by the two men's focus on him, sang to them while standing on one foot, head slightly cocked.

"Well, the girls finally decided to name him after you." Logan gave a smug smile as Remy arched an eyebrow.

"Two Remys? Cher, that be too confusin' for everyone."

"Didn't say they named him Remy. Said they named him after you." Logan deliberately turned his attention to the bird, feeding him a few pieces of cereal through the cage bars. The bird snatched at the bits.

He groaned. "Okay. What his name?"

Logan turned to face him, dropping the last bits of cereal. The bird stayed on the cage bars, whistling imperiously. "Beau."
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Rowena » Sat Mar 13, 2004 12:02 pm

Oh, man! I love this story! That bird is great! The ice cream part was so funny! Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! :D
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Lauren » Sat Mar 13, 2004 9:58 pm

me want more of the birdie story! that bird is awesome! he needs to become friends with Kurt though... maybe he could bite his tail thinking it was a toy! hehe Cockatiels are adorable!
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Sun Mar 14, 2004 1:28 am

Oh, he's getting there. If Kurt feeds him and spends time with him, he'll adopt him as flock.

I just had to have the Remy thing in there. I've been taking potshots at him this entire story. ;)
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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New Story: Hello, Mary Sue

Post by Wolvertique » Sun Mar 14, 2004 2:28 am

Author's note: I write this Mary Sue parody with apologies to Gene Pitney, author of Hello Mary Lou, a good song. The idea behind it: What if the real X-men met a Mary Sue from fiction? (FYI, this particular one has only seen X2.)

I don't own the X-men or Gene Pitney. I just take them out and play with them sometimes. ^^ before a paragraph indicates that this is Mary Sue speak/think, and warns of atrocious grammar and spelling ahead. (Yes. I did it on purpose.) This Mary Sue's for you! Unfortunately…

************************

"Hello, Mary Sue, goodbye heart;
Sweet Mary Sue I'm so in love with you.
I knew Mary Sue, we'd never part
So hello Mary Sue, goodbye heart."

Scott Summers groaned. Another one was approaching fast, flying on rainbow wings, wind ruffling her curly blond hair. He hit the alarm buzzer. "Mary Sue alert, Mary Sue alert. Take up Plan B."

^^Carmelita de'Orromorroborroborro was flynig to join the X-man. Her totally pretty blond hair swung in the breeze she created. Because she could control the weater. And had prety rainbow wingfs lik an Angels. She teleported better and less stinker as Kurt. ^^

The X-men all scattered and started engaging in activities that they hoped would put any decent Mary Sue off her feed. Scott began grading English essays, Jean by his side. Kurt Wagner took some of the children to the small chapel on the grounds and began fervently praying. Remy and Piotr went to the den together. "Remember, cher, she come in here, we start kissin' like mad." "Da, but what if Mary Sue likes that?"

^^She had on her favorit pin,k cahsmere sweater from Aeropostale and her prettyest jeans. They were tite too but not because she was fat because she gone on the Adkins diet and now she was 90 pounds again so there. Her sliver azure eyes flash as she used her psychic powers! much better than the professors^^

Logan shrugged and kept teaching his defensive driving course. No point in gettin' all beaten out of shape because some silly kid was going to get her heart broken again. Besides, he was confident he could handle anything a Mary Sue could dish out.

^^But her special name like the name of every mutants was so amazing everyone just fell down in awesomeness when they her! It. Mariathewakanna you so beautiful the tall man in a cowboy hat.^^

Beast remained monitoring the track the Mary Sue was taking. "She appears to be heading toward the driving track. Logan, she's all yours."

Logan snorted. "Must be my lucky day. Okay, kids. Show me how ya avoid a drunk driver." He beckoned Rahne. "You first."

The other X-men took up their normal duties again, relieved.

^^Because her comsic powers, she find her luv. The man called Login! She fly faster to him. He was teachnig the kids because he act all tough but really just a snuggle bunny.^^

The kid flew down and posed. She couldn't have been more than thirteen. She stared at a point several inches above his head with a dopey look on her face. "Login!" she screamed happily.

Jamie, Sam, and Paige all burst out laughing. He couldn't keep a grin off his face, either. "Save it for the computer class, kid. And what's with staring at the air?" He waved a hand, trying to get her attention.

^^omylove, Login said. ^^

"I did not! And my name's not LogIn, either. It's Logan."

^^Her love had her look at him on his knees to her because he proably proppose soon and she fluffed out her pretty hair, better than Storms. She smiled confident and secure despite having a worsest background than Login and benig tortured by Stiker too. because she was kind and strong. ^^

Rahne had pulled up by now, too, laughing her ass off. Hell, he was laughing. This idiot was so lost in her own private world … he stopped laughing. She was so lost in her own private world, how could he get rid of her without hurting her? She was just a kid, after all.

^^Opening her beautiful wide deep eyes she sad. Login, you can tell me anything luv, you know you can trust me cause i can use my telepathy. ^^

He opened his communicator. "Rogue, got a minute? The invader's got me a little stumped right now."

"Sure thing, sugar."

^^Login talk to rouge. Rouge was jelous of Mariathewakanna because she end up with Login instead. Even though she had Iceman who was like totaly cute to, but not like login.was ^^

"And Rogue? Do your best Anna Paquin imitation. It's an X2 Mary Sue." He closed the communicator and smiled at the class. "Go on back to the mansion. I'll get rid of this, then get you guys back."

^^Login ask the kids to leave so he can hold Mariathewakanna his arms! Were so strong she felt she might break. ^^

The stupid kid threw herself at him as soon as his class left. Damn it. "Rogue?"

"Don't worry!" Rogue flew across the field, holding her brown wig on hard. "I have a strategy!"

The kid held on harder and shouted some silly melodramatic nonsense. He growled.

^^Mariathewakanna declare her love for Login! So rouge you can just leave! using her telekinesis^^

"Logan, you gotta meet her on her level. Here. Watch what I do." She landed near him and looked at the Mary Sue hard.

^^rouge look at Mariathewakanna sad. She was so pretty and beautiful to and nice and she had to make her sad again like that time her dad said she cuoldnt watch American Idol or any other tv and he was drunk. 'Sorry, Mariathewakanna but Login thought you died that time you fought and we marry and the babys coming soon so. ^^

Logan stared at her in disbelief. "Rogue, what are you doing?"

"Hush. Wait." The woman flapped a hand at him and pointed to the Mary Sue, who had released her grip on her waist and appeared to actually focus on Rogue herself.

^^Mariathewakanna sad for rouge. The jelus girl try to break up she and Login! the bestest couple ever. She take Rouge hand and say 'that you should go for iceman. He loves you instead and you can have a baby instead. of Login. ^^

"Damn. She didn't believe me." Rogue turned to Logan, who already had his hands out.

"No way. Uh-uh. I've done a lot of stupid things in my time, but I ain't doin' this."

"Fine. Enjoy her." Rogue sat back on her heels, amused, while Logan groaned.

"All right, but if this gets out …"

^^Logan^^

"Login!" Rogue whispered. "She can't spell!"

^^Login look sad at the girl. ^^

"Call her beautiful!"

"Why? She's not."

"Look, you have to meet her where she is."

He sighed. "Fine."

^^Login look sad at the beautiful woman who look at jelous Rouge and hold his arm around her. "Im sorry ^^

"What was that damned name, again?"

"Mariathewakanna."

^^Mariathewakanna but Rouge got it right we marry and use you're p[owers and you see. rouge is having the baby soon so i cant leave her Im very verry sorry." ^^

The kid was actually looking at him. He hoped this worked, and fast. He was losing IQ points faster than politicians in D.C. Rogue crossed her fingers.

^^She look sad at her love because Rouge lying too him to and that wasn't right. But he ask her try her powers and she reach them into Rouge and there were babys, two of them, so she begin crying perfect tears that didn’t' make her face read or anything. ^^

The kid looked at Rogue, pushed her hand at her with drama, and then gasped, startling back and crying. Her nose turned red, and she wiped it on her pink sweater.

^^"Godbye my luv i will remember yuo Always think of me when you kiss the babys" she rose into the air fast. Not knowing where to go then she smiled. Toby magurie was totaly hot in Spicerman. ^^

The kid rose into the air, heading for New York City, muttering about Spiderman. Rogue wiped her brow, then extended her hand. "Good job, partner."

He took it, then took the wig from her head. "Nice."
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Rowena » Sun Mar 14, 2004 7:04 am

I love that song, but what in the world is a 'Mary Sue'...?

Oh! OK, I have to confess I was quite confused at first, but I think I get it now. Very interesting story! The 'real' X-Men handled that awkward situation very tastefully.

'Spicerman'! LOL!
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by kladyelf » Sun Mar 14, 2004 4:18 pm

Owtch!

I think i have read stuff like this before, it makes my brain hurt just to read that.... stuff... (see? i'm being polite) i mean i read something like that the other day! with equivalent spelling!! good grief, Mary Sues are only safe when they are kept *in* the head of the writer and not inflicted on anyone else!!


Oh yeah, and poor spidey :D :bamf
meddle not in the affairs of ficcers for you are malleable and easily .... O_o *stares* ooh is that a cookie?

Love your enemies - It will drive them nuts!

Crazy.... but in the nicest possible way....

To Stupidityyyyy - and beyond!

*after reading the latest gory/depressing "mainstream" comic* ....*sigh* that's it, I'm packin' up and moving back to the Eighties...

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Sun Mar 14, 2004 10:09 pm

I know what you mean, klady. The only way I could get through that ... stuff, myself, was by having her confront the real X-men and having them use proper spelling and grammar. Lots of it. ;) I think I needed to do it to exorcise some demons. I've been spending time on one story site which seems to attract Mary Sues (badly written fanfics with OCs who are better than everyone else because they're a stand-in for the author, usually in her early teens and very silly about Wolverine). So I had to have the real X-men get her away from me and send her to someone else.

Now, of course, some poor Spidey author's going to have her invade. Oh well. :D
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Believer -- Odd Couple Challenge Inspiration

Post by Wolvertique » Tue Mar 16, 2004 8:18 pm

Sometimes I wonder how I got to this place, my beloved gently breathing next to me, our child sleeping next door, and Uncle Kurt enthusiastically babysitting.

Then I remember back about five years ago, when I was still the leader of the new Brotherhood of Evil Mutants.

The usual bickering between Dominic and Frederick over who should get the most credit for our last job suddenly grated on my raw nerves more than usual. I spat out, "I have had it. I am leaving."

I got up from the table and walked into my bedroom, where I started placing things into a suitcase. Extra gun, ammo, hair and toothbrush travel kit, two changes of clothing, and then he spoke to me.

"Not really going, are you, Misty?"

I turned. It was St. John. I had expected Dominic would be the one following me. His bright blue eyes flashed from my suitcase to me and he parted his lips to give me his most charming smile. His blond hair was draped rakishly over his left eye and he posed a little. Peacock.

"I am leaving." I continued packing after I filled the first case. Backup guns, ammo, makeup, two more changes of clothing, extra pair of shoes, all packed away while Pyro stared at me.

"Where ya going? Crikey, Misty, this isn't like you, abandoning your people this way."

I hung my head a little, then pulled it up defiantly. Who was St. John to dictate to Mystique?

"How would you know what is or is not like me, St. John? I am a criminal."

He sat, toying with a lighter, looking up at me with an amazingly intense expression. "You're a good woman, Misty. I think I know that better than you do."

I paused. I had not expected him to say anything of the sort. My breath caught in my throat and though I found his belief overly naive and utterly mistaken, I could not find the words to correct him.

I instead fastened my two suitcases. His soft, persistent voice came closer to me. "So, where are we going?"

"We?" I nearly dropped my things. "What do you mean, we? I am going away."

"Right. And I'm going with you, mate. Best times of my life have been with you. And the rest, of course." He ducked his head and then gave me a mischievous smile. " 'Sides, I know the perfect place for a vacation. Dare you to let me take you there."

I do not know what weakness possessed me, what madness consumed me, but I allowed St. John to decide that we were going to Thailand. He owned a small house there, in some untouched wilderness, and it would be cheaper than staying anywhere else. He also spoke Thai, which I did not, so it would be a perfect vacation. No one could disturb me if I could not understand them.

I made my farewells and then flew with him there. It took us about three days to reach his home. It was a stunning creation, lovely and open, a wood edifice with large windows to let in the light. He made us some tea while I put my things away in the bright bedroom.

He handed me a cup and relaxed with one himself on the white couch. I took a wicker chair and perched on it. St. John had surprised me with his competence these past several days. He knew the area, he knew the people, and he was nearly a native speaker when it came to the language. "How long has it been since you were last here, St. John?"

He shrugged. "A little while. No matter, really. What's a few days' travel when you've got good company?"

He was making me uncomfortable again. I could not fight him when he said such things about me, but it made my stomach twist when he did. I cleared my throat and took a gentle sip of tea. "I doubt most would find me good company."

"They would if they tried. Just take a look at Rogue. That girl couldn't have turned out half the fantastic lady she is without you, Misty." His eyes shone in the late afternoon sunlight flowing in the windows to our left.

It was then that I realized my heart was warming to him. Oh, there were many other good moments, ones I cherish. Watching our first sunset together, when he held me as I wept for Rogue and Kurt. The amazing proposal he wrote me, describing me as the Queen of the Night (and himself as a Prince of Fools, which I had to admit was a more than adequate description). The way he pushed me into finally trying to reconcile with my son and daughter.

But it was then, showing his belief in me, that I knew I was risking love again. That was when I chose to let it happen. A simple thing. The only thing that matters. My love, St. John.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Finding Home -- Cockatiel Story Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Tue Mar 16, 2004 8:59 pm

Someone had forgotten to put him to bed, so Beau rested comfortably in the kitchen on his perch, bathed in moonlight. It was quiet, but right now he was awake. He heard a noise and softly hissed.

Remy tried to be quiet as he came in about 4 a.m. after a hard night in town. He entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door, spilling light into the quiet room.

It was flock! He blinked and yawned in the light, waiting for flock to call to him.

He pulled out the milk and started drinking, leaving the door open as he rummaged for something to eat. Peanuts and pretzels weren't enough, especially after hard drinking.

He decided to use the most exciting sound he knew, the one he had been practicing for a long time. He moved his tongue around, making sure he knew where to put it, then called to flock.

"REMY!" The man nearly had a heart attack, leaping back from the fridge and extending his staff. Scott was here? How the hell did ol' tightass Scott know he was here? He flipped on the lamp by the phone. No one was there.

The human jumped and flailed around. This was a fun game! He decided to do another flock call and see if he could make the human jump again.

"REH-my!" Rogue was pissed at him now. "Oui, mon ange?" he said tentatively, searching the shadows for her.

The human twitched again. He was having great fun. Flock was wonderful to play this game with him.

A low growl came from the bird's cage. "Remy!" The bird perfectly imitated a pissed-off Logan. He walked over to the cage. "Why you tryin' to give Remy white hairs?"

He had flock's attention now. He fluffed up, comfortable. Time for flock to talk to him.

The bird fluffed out and looked up at him sweetly with innocent dark eyes. "Don' give Remy that look, cher. He know what you do." He sighed and swigged some milk. "Damn' bird. Don' suppose you do anyone else?"

He started beak grinding. He was warm and safe with flock paying attention to him.

The bird started making a loud noise with his beak and half-closed his eyes. Remy shook his head and put the milk away. "Don' know why Logan have to bring you here. Stupid bird." He walked to the door, turning off the light.

Flock was leaving! Flock should never leave! He called desperately to flock.

"Remy!" This time the overwrought voice of Kitty followed him, and Remy laughed despite himself, heading up the stairs to bed.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Lauren » Wed Mar 17, 2004 11:14 am

Can cockatiels really imitate voices that good in real life?
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Wed Mar 17, 2004 7:57 pm

Cockatiels can be excellent mimics of anything in their environment. Without teaching him, ours has learned to imitate the microwave and the squeaking of our bathroom door. I figure with as under-other-people's-skin as Remy can get, people getting outraged at him is a common sound at Xavier's. ;)
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Prayer - New Story

Post by Wolvertique » Wed Mar 17, 2004 9:02 pm

"I guess I was confusing sex with love."

"Oh. I did that once. It was great!"

--Roxanne

Author’s Note: A lot of my stories start with one "what if?" or another. This is this story’s "what if." What if Jean Grey mistook her sexual attraction to Scott Summers for love? (Obviously, this is very AU. Yes, I have to say it.)

***********************************

I watched her from afar as he flirted with Emma Frost. Her pink lips quivered, but her green eyes shed no tears. I knew the routine. She was telling herself that it didn’t matter. He had to love her. The sex was fantastic. All the romance novels say you can’t have great sex without love. There must be something to it. Right?

Scott didn’t care. He knew she was there. She was always there. He left her room this morning knowing she would follow. He set this up. I saw him waiting for Emma, looking for her. He gave a sly smile as she approached him for her kiss.

He held Emma gently and whispered something naughty in her ear, her blonde hair brushing his mouth. She smiled smugly at Jean and tossed her head, then left the room. Scott followed closely, eyes glued to her tiny white miniskirt, leaving Jean standing alone on the outside again.

She shook her head, then sat and let the pain loose from her eyes. Curled up against the white wall, her arms snug against her knees, she stained her blue jeans with her grief. He had done it again. She chanted the litany of names, trying to find some way out. Lee Forrester. Colleen Wing. Madelyne Pryor. Betsy Braddock. Spiderwoman. Tigra. Maria Vanity. Emma Frost. She tried to comfort herself. They had all come and gone. Surely Scott would see how bad Emma was for him soon. Surely he would realize she was the constant in his life.

Her red hair veiled her face, her arms clad in green holding her sorrow, but her friends tried to move the barriers that kept them at bay. Ororo took a few minutes, letting Jean scream into her white hair that all men were pigs, then nodding as Jean apologized. She didn’t really think that, not even about Scott, though she really should.

Logan made his usual offer, metal screaming from his hands, and she again refused. She believed she loved Scott, even though she was learning to accept that he did not love her. The short man growled as he left her holding the wall for support, trying to smile. She was locked in her own prison and he could not free her.

I came to her after the others left with their well-wishes and aching hearts. She gave me a watery grin that became a sob. I wrapped my arms around her, insulating her from the world for a little while. She finally pushed away from me and gave me a real smile.

"You know, you should try to find someone who would really love you," I said gently, brushing a last tear from her cheek. Her grief tingled on my finger. I winced again.

She turned away a little, looking at the potted palm on the floor near my wingtips. "I have that. I’m not worthy of his love, though." She gave me another, weaker smile. "Thanks, Warren."

"It was nothing." I walked away, leaving her locked in love with a man who didn’t deserve it, trying to keep the pain from taking over as I left my first love, my only love.

Oh, Jean. Will you ever stop doing this to yourself? Must we watch, all of us who love you, as you destroy all chances for something good?

I am no oracle, despite my appearance. I do not know. I did, however, take five minutes in the old family chapel that Kurt and Rogue use to pray to Whoever might be listening. Please. Even if it’s not me. Even if it’s no one. Please. Have her find a way out.

Please, God.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Fri Mar 19, 2004 9:29 pm

Heres the latest update to Blue Velvet Dreams, fresh off the keyboard. Another chapter from Scotts perspective.

*****************
We had all separated into different rooms at the Academy, taking some time to unwind and prepare for our assault on the Hellfire Club. I was wiping away the last of my tears when I heard her coming down the hall to my door. “Scott?”

I locked my arms across my chest and turned around, using all my hard-won self-control to look directly at her. Her face was thinner and the dark circles under her eyes were prominent against her pale skin. “Lynn.”

She ran to me and held on tight, pressing her body against mine. I kept myself stiff, unmoving, though I wanted to just let go and wrap my tainted soul around her, losing myself in her taste. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be coming back. I wasn’t sure if you’d be alive, or if you’d remember me and the kids afterward. It’s so good to see you!”

She hadn’t been told. I had to tell her. I released my arms and pushed gently at her shoulders. “Let go, Lynn.”

She snuggled against me. “Come see the kids. They’ve missed you.” She pulled back and smiled into my sunglasses, my prison. “So have I.”

“Sit down.” I took a chair and turned it around, shielding my body from further frontal assaults, as my wife sat on the narrow bed and leaned forward eagerly.

“While Mastermind controlled us in the mansion … we all did some things we aren’t proud of. He locked away or changed our memories of our lives to keep us the way he wanted.” I looked at the Monet print on the wall and spoke to it, re-folding my arms and keeping my words as neutral as possible. “For me, he convinced me I was married to Jean.”

Silence. Lynn didn’t move or speak. I tried to concentrate on the painting. How would I feel if I put a hand into the dark water? It would chill my fingers, I decided.

“What do you mean?” Her voice was tentative, hesitant, suddenly loud in the uncomfortable silence.

I glanced at her quickly. She was suspicious, pulled into herself, her left hand nervously tapping against the blue flowers on the bedspread. I swallowed a little and spoke to Claude again. “I mean probably everything you think. I thought I was married to her. I acted accordingly.” The muscles in my right cheek twitched a little from the strain. I released a hand and adjusted my glasses, which had slid down on my nose a little.

She made a little pitiful sound, then stood up. “What does that mean?”

I kept my eyes on the painting. “I … I don’t know.”

She sat down again hard. I looked over. Her left hand shaded her eyes, bright wedding band giving shape to my guilt. I looked away again. “And Jean … what about Logan? Oh, my God, Scott. Why are you still alive?” She ran over to me and pulled on my arm. “He’s not going to kill you, is he?”

I faced her. Her anxious eyes searched out my face, a tear poised in her left eye. “Do you want him to, Lynn?” I couldn’t say any of the things I was thinking. Please say no. Say you forgive me. Please, whatever you say, don’t stop me from seeing Alex and Janet…

“Of course not!” She pulled back and looked at me fiercely. “I love you. I don’t want you to die. Don’t even think about it.”

She loved me still? She loved me? I tried to keep it back, but the grief and amazement at her words overwhelmed me, and I started crying again. She pulled me to the bed and held me a little while, calming me until my breathing evened out and I was able to speak once more. She took my hands then and took in a large gulp of air. “I said I love you. I do. This doesn’t mean, though, that what you did won’t affect our relationship.”

I tried to pull my hands out of her grasp, but she clamped down hard. “No. Listen to me. Once you’re back, we can try to work things out, okay? I just don’t want to make promises right now. But no matter what, you’re spending time with the kids before you go and after you come back.”
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Finding Home Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Sat Mar 20, 2004 9:29 pm

Lockheed vs. Beau

Lockheed was angry and lonely. Kitty had been neglecting him for this new animal that smelled like food and acted like food. He decided to go have a “talk” with the bird. He tapped across the countertops over to the sink, where Rogue was washing dishes, the bird on her shoulder.

Beau saw something moving toward him. It was a scary thing. He hissed and flapped his wings to get Rogue to fly away from the scary thing.

“Beau, settle your feathery butt down. It’s okay. It’s just Lockheed.” She soothed the cockatiel with her words, then turned her gaze on the dragon. “And what do you want?”

Lockheed looked up at the bird-food. He licked his nose with his tongue and stared at Rogue.

“No, you don’t. He isn’t food. He’s a bird and we like him alive.” Rogue turned away and grabbed the dish cloth, passing it across the surface of a blue plate before rinsing it under the water.

Lockheed leaped forward and put his head under Rogue’s hand. “Eep,” he said firmly. If she was going to pay attention to that food, she was going to pay attention to him, too.

Beau saw that Rogue’s stick-things were touching another thing, petting it. He felt like getting a preening too, so he nipped at her ear to get her attention, then extended his head for a preen.

“Beau!” Rogue yelped as the animal bit her ear and then extended his head, crest lowered. “I only have two hands!”

Lockheed pressed his head into the hand petting him. He was NOT going to be ignored for this food thing.

The human didn’t give him a preening. Stupid human. He repeated his request.

“OW!” Rogue screamed in pain as Beau took a harder chomp of her ear. “You little monster!”

The human made a loud, scary sound at him, so he had to get away fast. He flew to the top of the curtain rod above the window, his feet tangling in the lace of the curtain hanging there, and started flapping his wings frantically in fear.

Lockheed nipped at Rogue as she removed her hand from his head and rinsed her wet hand under the water. He wanted more attention.

“Not now, Lockheed. Birdbrain there got himself into trouble again. Kind of like his namesake,” she muttered, flying a few feet into the air to reach the frightened bird.

Scary. Get away. Scary. Must get away. Feet trapped. Nibble them. Scared. Get away.

Beau hissed and furiously nipped the lace curtain. He had snagged his nails in the material and was flapping so hard she could not see to free him. She captured him from the back, clamping her fingers down over his wings and using her index finger and thumb to immobilize his head. With her left hand, she pulled the material that was trapping him from Beau’s feet.

Even more scary. Trapped. Can’t move head. Bad, bad stick-things! Bite them!

Beau was squealing and screaming under her hand, wriggling to get free. Rogue sighed. “Damn it, bird, people are gonna think I’m beatin’ you up, not helping you out. Stop.” She got the final bit of material and released Beau.

Bad, bad, BAD stick-things! He would teach them a lesson!

Beau immediately and viciously attacked her right hand. Lockheed knew what that meant. Beau was bad, trying to hurt his friend. He flew to the attack.

“Lockheed, NO!” Rogue tried to stop the dragon, but he flew too fast. He barreled into the male cockatiel, which shrieked and hissed, flapping his wings.

Scary. Bad things. Hurt him. He would hurt them! He screamed defiance at the big thing, then cowered in fear as it hit him. It hurt! He tried to run away.

Lockheed tried to attack Beau as he ran in fear under the refrigerator, but Rogue caught him this time and glared into his face. “If you ever hurt him again, I will track you down and do the same to you. Got it? Leave Beau alone. Never touch him.”

Rogue was dominant to Lockheed. Lockheed had to do what Rogue said. He bowed his head in submission to Rogue, though he didn’t want to.

Hurting some. Very scared. Hide. Darkness was good. Good place to hide. Beau stayed in the darkness.

“Good. Now, get out of here. I’m tellin’ Kitty what you did, too.” Rogue watched as Lockheed mopily left the room, then knelt down in front of the refrigerator. “Come on out, Beau. It’s okay.”

Human made noises at him. He was scared. He stayed in the dark. Dark was good and safe. No bad things could catch him here.

Rogue tried to get him out for a few minutes, but then gave up and got out her communicator instead. “Bobby?”

“Hey, there, beautiful. Care to dump the creepy Cajun and go for someone who’s really cool?” Bobby’s teasing voice came through clearly and she rolled her eyes.

“Right. No. Can you come to the kitchen? Beau’s scared and I can’t get him out from under the fridge to see if he’s hurt or not.”

“Beau might be hurt? Rogue, how’d that happen?”

She sighed. “Lockheed tried to protect me from him. He got startled and bit me a little. I’m fine, but he got hit by Lockheed, so I need to check him out.”

Bobby slid in, closing his communicator and stopping his ice slide several feet before the kitchen table. His entire focus was on the refrigerator. “Heya Beau, old pal, old buddy.” Rogue got out of the way as Bobby ducked his head down and made eye contact with Beau, who was hissing and striking at the floor under the appliance.

Talky wake-up human was here. Beau liked the talky wake-up human. He whistled the flock greeting at him, then hissed, to warn the human of the scary thing.

A cheery, elaborate wolf-whistle greeted him, followed by an angry hiss. Bobby let out a low whistle himself. “Mixed messages. Just like most women I’ve dated.” He wolf-whistled back to Beau, then held out his hand. “Come on, sweet thing. Let’s get you out of there so we can see if Lockheed messed you up or if you can take him.”

Beau relaxed a little, but remained somewhat alert. The last time he had been out there, scary things happened. He wasn’t quite sure what, but it had been scary.

The cockatiel stopped hissing and biting at things, but he didn’t come out, either. Bobby sighed. “Also just like the women I’ve dated. You need something more than just my pretty face to get you out of there, hm?” He thought for a minute, then got up and opened the freezer door. He pulled out a small round container of Ben & Jerry’s vanilla ice cream, grabbed a spoon from the dish drainer, and dropped back onto the floor. “Mm.” He made a big production of opening up the ice cream, flourishing his hand, pulling hard at the lid, and putting the lid aside on the floor. The bird watched every move. “Yummy food.” He dipped the spoon into the container, bringing out a very small amount of ice cream. “I’m gonna enjoy eating this all by myself.”

Oo. There was Food. Sweet Food. Beau unconsciously began running his tongue in and out, touching his beak. He loved this Food. He had to have some!

The bird came running out from under the door, eagerly snatching ice cream from the spoon. Bobby let him, then got the bird on his hand and put him back in his cage. He then bowed to Rogue. “The master has done thy bidding, lady.”

She clapped her hands and laughed. “Good. Now let’s check him out.” She tried to grab Beau again.

Bad stick-things!

Beau furiously attacked her hand when she tried to grab him again. Bobby, a superior look on his face, handed her one of Beau’s towels. “Try using this. It hurts less.”

“Thanks, popsicle.” She wrapped the bird in the towel, ignoring his scream as she picked him up again. Bobby stepped forward.

“Here. I’ll restrain his head and body as you check him out.” He took a good grip on Beau’s head, while Rogue started looking Beau over.

Scary. Can’t fly. Can’t see. Very, very scary. He got very quiet. So scary. Need to fly. Need to see. Must get away. Scary. Bite. Scary.

She touched his feet. They were gray and scaly, as always. She then checked out his wings. They looked okay, and he didn’t protest very much when she touched them. His head was fine, as was his neck. Last of all, she touched his breast bone, and Beau screamed.

Pain! Pain! No more pain, please no more pain!

Bobby started talking to the ‘tiel once he was released. “Hey, there, brave Beau. You’re going to get to go to the vet! Won’t that be great?”

Rogue called the doctor as Bobby anxiously talked to the ‘tiel, who was fluffed up and sitting in the highest point of his cage.

Rest. With flock. Will be okay. With.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Lauren » Sat Mar 20, 2004 10:24 pm

BAD LOCKHEED! DON'T ATTACK THE BIRD, LOCKHEED! that was horrible! you hurt Beau! You meanie!
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

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New Story! One Magic Moment!

Post by Wolvertique » Sun Mar 21, 2004 12:16 am

Rogue paced the length of her room. She wore her usual uniform. Unlike the others, she didnt have a date for tonight.

In a surge of anger and defiance, earlier, she had called Magneto to meet her at the mansion. She was beginning to regret having done so now. She wasn’t like the other X-women. Her powers shut her out, kept her from the most casual of touches, made her an outcast among outcasts. The only men she had ever touched skin to skin were the ones she fought before and after joining the X-men, with the exception of Wolverine after she had saved Mariko’s life and her first boyfriend, who she sent into a coma.

In fact, she was resentful of other women in general, and the X-women in particular. Why did they get to have so much, and she so little? Why did Jean get any man she looked at? And how dare Kitty get Kurt and Piotr?! The show-off midget bitch already had more than Rogue ever could dream of. Why did she have to be the only X-man to find all her love in romance novels?

Deep down, she knew she wasnt being fair. But her hatred retorted that she didnt really care.

Rogue turned to her mirror. Her angry green eyes flashed into her reflection’s. She wasn’t bad looking. She was powerful. Why didn’t anyone want her?

She hit the wall full-force, anger driving her reaction. Why bother? She’d better tell Magneto to leave once he arrived. That way she wouldn’t have to live with the rejection of every man in the universe, as well as the ones she lived with. Then she could pretend that somewhere out there, someone wanted her and dreamed of her.
She sat, defeated. She was pathetic, really, hoping her dreams would be fulfilled by a psychotic villain, anyway.

Why did she ever call him?

--Because you think hes cute, and you hoped it would finally work out.

But it won’t.

--It’s better to try, isn’t it?

Not when you get your heart slammed into the ground.

--What if it would work out, though, and because you didn’t try, you never get any part of what you want?

Torn, tormented, she didn’t notice the sound of her window opening. She did, however, feel warmth and pressure on her left shoulder. She pulled away, hard, and looked up to see Magneto in full costume looking down at her, red helmet hiding most of his face. "Did I come at a bad time?" he asked.

"I don’t know." She got up and started pacing around. Her teddy bear and Arctic fox looked up at her with their black plastic eyes. "I’m not sure why I asked you here."

He stood still, watching and waiting. "You said it was because you were interested in my cause, the cause of mutant freedom."

"Freedom?" She laughed. "I’d never have freedom even if you were king of the universe, Magneto. Just look at me." She flung her arms wide. "I have to cover every inch of skin I can because if I touch someone, they suffer and so do I. Is that freedom?" She stalked closer to him, anger fueling every step. "I can’t pet a cat, hold a baby, shake my friends’ hands, or even take my change from the cashier at a store without being insulated from every touch. Is that freedom? I’ll never be able to have a lover without one of those damned ‘full body’ condoms from that stupid movie I watched a couple years ago … I don’t remember the name of it, but I was the only one NOT laughing at that scene!"

"Naked Gun."

"What?" She stopped a few feet from him, hands shaking violently.

"The movie. Naked Gun." He smiled, gentle and sad.

She considered it briefly. "Okay. Anyway, the point is that now, I don’t even get to dream about being touched by anybody. Im never going to get any control over my powers. And everyone else seems to have someone. Kitty and Piotr are finally dating, and Jeans landed Scott."

"You sound especially bitter about her. Why?" He sat on the bed and smoothed his red cape over the covers.

She frowned. "I don’t know. I guess it seems like every man Im interested in would rather be near her than any other woman in the world. Besides, shes pretty, shes powerful, she can be touched, and everyone loves her. I don’t get that. I think maybe Im pretty and powerful, but I’m alone, and I’m lonely, and it feels like it will never change! Do you have any idea what it’s like to be on the outside of everything, never getting a chance to be a part of what everyone else takes for granted, not even being able to dream of fitting in?" She collapsed onto the floor, sitting down hard with her legs crossed, and flopped her torso forward so her face touched the green carpet.

He did not speak for a few minutes, though he made some soft noises of cloth over cloth. He moved around, ending up in front of her mirror. It irritated her that he would not respond to her words, but she was not going to do anything about it.

"Get up," he said at last.

"Get up?" She moved only her head, raising her face from the rug to see a changed Magneto. She sat up straight.
He had removed his helmet and gloves. Now, he was wearing a nice black suit, dress shoes, and was pinning a small rose in his buttonhole at her mirror. His red cape swirled about his form attractively. "Yes. You’re not dressed properly."

She rose to her full height. "Dressed for what?"

"Our date." He calmly adjusted his tie and smiled at his reflection. "You have fifteen minutes. Wear something nice." He turned and walked to the door. "I will return in that time. Be ready."

Fifteen minutes? A date? What? She frantically checked the clock on her dresser, then threw her closet doors open. Riots of color met her gaze, but a black dress she’d bought for a dance she never got to because she left to join the X-men stood out. (Mystique had sent it along a year later, after she begged a little.) It was mid-calf length, sleeveless, and miraculously preserved in its bag from the dry cleaners. She skinned out of her uniform and started getting ready.

She was fastening the clasp of her necklace when he walked back into her room. She turned around, a little shy, and pirouetted. "Well?"

The dress left her arms, shoulders, and upper chest bare. The velvet bodice fell straight to just below her waistline. The skirt was made of a stiff, shiny material which flared a little, then fell straight past the small bow at her right hip. She had put on some shiny green earrings and pulled her hair up. The emerald heart of her necklace rested a few inches below her neck. She even had some long black gloves on, stretching nearly to her shoulders.

He touched his fingers to his lips. "Enchanting." He took her hand and touched the glove lightly. "You can leave these behind."

"Are you sure?"

He looked at her seriously. "Trust me."

She kept her eyes on him, suspicious, as she slowly peeled the gloves from her arms. "I don’t know that I should."

"My dear." He walked up to her and tapped the side of his head. "I am not a fool. I have fought with the X-men countless times. I have invented devices to stop the strongest mind reader known to mutants the world over. Did you really think I could not come up with something that could stop you?" He took her naked hand in his.

Her power did not activate. She might as well have been touching a beach ball.

He put her hand on his wrist. She felt a solid band there and pushed his sleeve up. Inside was a gray strip of metal, about the size of an average man’s watch. She touched it and looked into his gray eyes, which regarded her with amused patience.

"May we go now, my dear? I do not want to be late for our meal." She nodded, a little stunned, as he escorted her out of the mansion and into a silver Mercedes.

The restaurant was a sparkling paradise. Somehow, he had gotten a reservation at On The Waterfront, a place with dark wood paneling, live piano playing, one whole wall of glass so the patrons could look out onto the water, and a small dance floor. They spoke about music, they danced, they ate. The night was full of touch. Warm. Normal. Perfect. Magic.

He took her back, then, and she hesitated at the door. "Come in with me?"

"Are you certain?"

She blushed a little. "I dont want the night to end just yet. Please."

He considered her, white hair gleaming in the light from the door, shadowed eyes looking her up and down, and nodded.

She took him up to her room. He stopped at the door and gave her a gentle kiss, hands clasped. She opened the door. "Come in?"

He frowned. "Is this what you want?"

She took a few paces into the room, then turned back, skirt swirling around her legs. "Yes."

"Are you certain you know what youre saying?"

She pulled him into the room and held him close. "I said I dont want this night to end. I meant it, Magneto."

"Erik."

She nodded. "Erik. I want it all. If its just going to be once, I want it to be here, and you, and now. Unless you dont want me."

He closed his eyes and breathed a couple of times, then opened them again and looked at her in her elegant dress, burning her skin with his regard. "My dear, I do not believe anyone could not want you." He kissed her again, firmly, as his hands grazed her shoulders.

He made slow, patient love to her, despite her protests in frustration, and she eased into sleep afterward, his warm body next to hers.

*****************************
She woke up late the next morning, of course, and sleepily reached out to him. He had been by her side. She touched her teddy bear instead.

She opened her eyes. Her yellow bedspread covered her body and no one elses. Her shoulders slumped with disappointment.

Oh well, she thought. He isnt one of the X-men and long-distance relationships don’t really work out, do they?

She rolled over and looked for the clock on her dresser. There was a rose there and an envelope. His rose from last night!

Sitting up, covers pulled to her chest, she savored the smell of the rose and then read the envelope.

"Dear Rogue,
"You were right. I am not the king of the universe, and even if I were, not only you, but many others would not be freed by my assuming said title.

"However, you were also wrong. I can give you some freedom, despite not being royalty.
"--Erik"

She opened it and took what was inside it out. Her mouth fell open. Joy, disbelief, surprise, sadness, all welled up from her soul and were expelled in a wail and then furious tears. She sobbed, unable to bear the rushing feelings within.
***************************
"Rogue?" Kitty phased through the wall quickly, the heartwrenching sounds from the womans room drawing her in. She saw Rogue crying, moaning in despair, holding a rose in one hand and in the other, a strip of gray metal that was about the size of Kurts watch.

Chapter 2

slipped around the corner and paused. No one was in the hallway. No one watching me. I quietly turned the lab door handle and eased inside. No creaks. No squeaks. No noises. I was in.

Hank was hanging upside down from a round black bar attached to the ceiling. His goggles covered most of his face. He carefully extended a slender pipette toward a small test tube in a rack, letting one glowing green drop of liquid fall into the purple oily goo it contained. He then pulled his body upward and grabbed the bar with his hands as the fluids met with a loud bang. Blue fog flowed out of the tube and swiftly filled the room.

I jumped as the fluid exploded and he peered at me through the spreading blue fog. "Rogue?" He swung from bar to bar until he dropped gracefully to his feet before me. I clapped. "Youre just amazing sometimes, Hank."

He bowed deeply. "I endeavor to please."

"I hear you got some information on my special project." I yawned. He took my arm and walked me away from the site of his fog experiment to the more technological area of the lab, where buttons blinked and random beeps punctuated the silence.

"I have done my utmost to reveal some of its secrets. It has proven to be a most interesting specimen." He pulled the gray strip of metal Magneto had given me several months ago out of a locked drawer in his desk.

Why didnt I use it, you ask? Well, I had held onto it a while hoping hed come back or something, I guess. Typical man. Never called. Never wrote. Hung up on me the one time I got through to him on the phone.

I was also kinda scared. What if I started using it and men just tried taking advantage of me? Howd I know if someone was really interested in me or my body? Would it work on me? What if it needed batteries or something? Could someone else wear it, or only certain people? Its kind of like being a bird with a broken wing. I had a hard time believing I could really heal and fly again.

So I decided to swear Hank to secrecy and tell him about it so he could research it for me. He was fascinated, of course, and vowed to not tell anyone anything unless I said it was okay just for the opportunity to see how it worked. A few days ago, hed sent me a note saying he had some information for me.

Now, he held the metal before my eyes. "This is an ingenious device. I wish Magneto published his scientific findings in a peer reviewed journal. It has many applications for mutants who suffer from various difficulties with their unique abilities." He pulled back my sleeve and then slapped it to my naked left wrist. The metal wrapped around it and tightened until it fit perfectly. "The material appears to be almost alive, but is actually conducting itself in accord with magnetic principles. It stifles the application of your powers, either to the person wearing it or by you." He carefully tapped a finger above my wrist. My absorption powers did not turn on. He touched me again, longer this time. Nothing happened. He grinned, stripped my glove off, and enthusiastically shook my hand with both of his.

"God, Hank!" I pretended to flinch and pulled my hand from his grip, shaking it out. "Youve got very strong fingers there."

He smiled smugly. "Some of us have it and some of us dont."

"So, what about long-term effects? Does it need re-charging or anything?" I pulled myself onto a stool and swung my legs around to the rung beneath.

"Of that, I am not certain, but I believe prudence dictates that it does not. You stated that he created it anticipating a combat situation, correct?" I nodded. He continued. "Then I would venture to say that creating a device which needs re-charging, which one anticipates using in combat, is foolhardy. Magneto has great intelligence, perhaps greater than I realized, studying this creation. I doubt he would fashion it merely to have it give out in time of need."

I took it off and scowled. "I still dont know that I can trust it, Hank." I pulled my glove back on. "Im not sure I can trust other people with it, either."

"What do you mean?" He leaped onto another stool nearby and watched as I covered my body again and put the metal back in my pocket.

I hesitated. I didnt want to say anything mean about my friends, but…

"Well, what if they think it means something it doesnt? I mean, Ive been flirting with people for a while for fun, but I never meant any of it to go beyond just playing. You know? It was safe because we couldnt do anything about it. Now, I dont know if I should stop doing it now that I can touch people. Its like, once I gain the ability to touch others, theyll find out what a sham I really am." I blushed and stared at a small blue container. It looked a little like a mini flying saucer.

He rested his head in his hands. "Are you so positive that the others do not understand that you have been behaving toward them in a flirtatious fashion based on your inability to make physical contact?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "For once, Hank, speak English. Or French. I understand those, but not all this stuff youre spouting."

He sighed melodramatically. "This is why our language is deteriorating. Very well. How do you know that the other X-men dont understand that your flirting is based in your inability to touch them? They may well understand more than you realize. I myself recognized your behavior for what it was."

"You did?" I couldnt believe it. I thought Id been so careful.

"Of course. No one believes that if you gained the power to touch others and not drain them, you would become interested in sexual intercourse with everyone you have gently teased." He thought for a moment. "Except, perhaps, horny teenagers. And who cares what they think?"

I laughed. "Advertising executives do."

He winked. "Youre not an advertising executive, my dear." He sighed and beckoned me close. "*Vous êtes trés charmante, cherie.* But there is no need to worry. Now, go change and tell the others. Take charge of your life. Come back tonight, if you like, and tell me how it all went. I confess some interest in how things work out."

I pulled the metal out of my pocket and shook my head. This was the whole reason I came here, to gain control of my powers. I couldnt be scared of it once I found a way to do it.

I slapped it into place around my right wrist this time, taking off my gloves. "**Merci beaucoup, mon ami. Tu es trés beau, sais-tu?" I took his hand in mine again, kissing the back of it gently, then walked to the door. He said nothing. Was something wrong with him? I paused, my hand on the door knob.

When I looked back, he was staring at his hand. A perfect, round tear ran down his left cheek, staining his fur. He said conversationally, "No one has called me beautiful since I experienced my mutagenic transformation, Rogue. I find it a trifle overwhelming. Please leave so I may deal with my raging emotions."

I quietly closed the door behind me, leaving him alone, confused and excited. I had to plan my first outfit. But I still worried about Hank and thought about him as I made my way to my room and started turning my closet upside down.

*You are very charming, dear. (non-intimate form of "you")*

**Thank you, my friend. You are very beautiful/handsome, you know? (intimate form of "you")**

Chapter 3

Dr. Henry McCoy sat alone in his lab, typing up some notes he had been neglecting frightfully, in an attempt to forget about Rogue. It was not helping him disregard her, he admitted after an hour of trying, but it was getting his paperwork done. He therefore bowed to the inevitable, continued typing, and thought about her instead.

She probably would not come back tonight and speak with him about her day’s escapades. He did hear, after an hour or so, odd outbursts of random cheering, so he assumed she was being well-received in her new state. He was delighted for her. She deserved the opportunity to connect with other beings that he and so many others took for granted.

He sighed. He admitted to some jealousy of whichever man finally captured her attention. One would, no doubt. She was a young woman with a romantic nature and now, with all barriers to intimate congress removed, the outcome was a foregone conclusion. It would not be him, certainly, but there would be someone.

Yet he wished she still needed his aid. He remembered the long hours in the lab, separating chemicals in the centrifuge, sometimes playing the piano while she sang and sometimes listening to her CDs as they worked together, all golden in his mind.

Perhaps she would return sometimes so he could remain a part of her new life, though not as her beloved. She and he had been amicable acquaintances before their mutual project of the past several months.

Bobby Drake ran into the lab. His eyes lit up when he saw Hank. “Hey, come on outside! Rogue’s having her glove burning ceremony!”

“Glove burning?” Hank closed the notebook and rubbed his eyes. “Whose idea was this?”

Bobby shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We’re partying and burning things. I don’t even have to work to make people laugh. It’s great!”

He grinned and shrugged off his lab coat. Why not? He had been there since nearly the beginning. He had to see the end.

***************************
Out by the fire pit, it seemed that everyone who had ever known Rogue and who could travel was milling around and talking. Hank spied Scott in the back of the crowd, probably coordinating security. As he approached, he saw the dais someone had built for Rogue, about a foot above the main attraction. Bobby pushed him over to the dais, where Rogue, Jubilee, Logan, Kurt, and Professor X waited with boxes which had once contained Rogue’s supplies of gloves, leggings, and other cover-ups. Rogue looked brilliantly happy, wearing only a blue T-shirt and some faded jean shorts, holding her brown box to her chest. She waved excitedly at him and began speaking.

The noises from the crowd died down slowly at first, but quickly after Logan extended his claws and growled, “Shut up!” Crude, yet quite effective.

“I wanted everyone to see how happy I am today. Thank you, everyone, who helped make this day possible, but especially Hank McCoy.” She walked over and took his hand. He smiled and waved to the people, glad for once that his face was covered with fur so his blushes were hidden from all prying eyes. “This wonderful man spent several months making sure that I’d be safe, and that you would, too. Give him a hand.” She dropped his, and he took a bow, almost overwhelmed by the force of the claps from the group in his honor. He struggled to remain unmoved. He had shed enough tears this day.

“Now, light ‘em up! Burn them down!” She gestured and leaped down to the pit, pulling a pack of matches from her pocket. Logan, Kurt, and Jubilee followed, and soon the assorted piles of brilliant gold and green, black and blue were wreathed in flame. He watched in awe. He knew Rogue would be free some day, but had not expected it to be so soon. He continued observing from the raised platform as she greeted guests and was greeted by them.

She did not need him here, sitting alone, now that her goal was met. He got one final glimpse at the fire before he turned and left. He still had work to do.

"Where ya off to so fast, Hank?"

His internal disturbance was sufficient that the words from behind were his first warning that Logan was present. He gave an undignified hop and turned. The mans scent had changed as well, throwing him off further. He did not smell of old cigars and beer, but fresh pine and wood smoke. He cursed himself. "Just heading back to my laboratory."

"Ya wouldnt be tryin to upset the guest of honor, right?" Logans blue eyes challenged him. "Be a shame for Rogue to think her friends dont care about her." He snorted. "And dont try any of that she doesnt want me here garbage. You know she does. Wouldnt start without you."

Hank sighed. "It would appear my presence is required for the full festivities, then."

"Sure is. If I cant get out of it, you cant."

"You desired to? What other commitments did you make?" Hank moved slowly, matching the shorter mans pace.

"None. Just dont like crowds." Logan stuck his hand in his shirt pocket absently, then flung it out again. "Come on."

They rejoined the merriment in full swing, and Hank soon was called upon to play keyboards as various X-men decided to show off their vocal talents, or lack thereof in some cases. He forgot in time that he had ever wanted to lose himself in work. This was fantastic fun!
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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