Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by RavEnigma » Mon Mar 29, 2004 4:09 am

I have to agree with Lauren. I've already gained you 2 new fans, my friends Rebecca and Kelli! (I printed off the parts about Beau and showed them to them on the bus) They say to tell you that you're a really good writer and that they want more (and I second that emotion, O Wonderful Wolvertique)
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Lauren » Mon Mar 29, 2004 7:10 pm

HA! you see? Now hurry up and write some more Beau!
"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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Beautiful Beau

Post by Wolvertique » Tue Mar 30, 2004 12:37 pm

Beau sat quietly on the blue human. It held him on its shoulder in the den, playing with something in its lap. The blue human wouldn’t let him play with it. The blue human was selfish. He tried to climb down and play with it again.

Kurt muttered under his breath, the golden words of the King James Version he had been given by Charles last year for Christmas singing through his head. He liked having Beau with him as he read in the evenings before he had to put the bird to bed.

The stuff was shiny on the edges. Oh my! He loved playing with shinies. He decided to taste the shiny.

Kurt felt a presence near his right hand. “Beau!” The cockatiel had squirmed down the towel Kurt wore over his shoulder, to keep the bird’s leavings off his clothing, and took a small bite out of the page he was reading.

Uh-oh. The human had noticed. He put a foot on the toy. He had claimed it! The human should not challenge his claim to the neat toy!

Beau kept chewing on the paper he had bitten, put a foot on the Bible, and hissed at Kurt when he tried to pick the bird up. “Nein, Beau. Up. Now.”

He did what he always did when he heard the noise the humans made and stood on the stick-thing, though he opened his mouth to hiss in protest.

The bird dropped the paper he had been chewing and hissed at him. “Ja. I know. I am an evil human, stealing away your things.” He put the bird back up on his shoulder. What was it that Kitty had explained to them?

Ah, yes. When Beau needed things to chew on, give him things that were good to chew. He bent down to the Beau basket, full of extra food, toys, water, and chewables that all X-men who cared for him carried with them as they saw to the bird’s needs. He took out a subscription card to Field and Stream and held it up to Beau’s face.

A toy! He would take this toy from the evil stick-things. Oh, it felt good in his beak. He wanted to take more of it. He happily began shredding the card, chewing on bits and then dropping them everywhere.

Kurt sighed. The bird had taken a piece of his favorite Bible. It was only a small piece, but he fussed over the book to make sure it was all right otherwise.

The stick-things gave up? The card was his! He snatched it and bit it savagely, then it disappeared. He stared at where it had been, questioning. What had happened to the neat toy?

Kurt looked up at Beau as the animal dropped the card he had left on his shoulder for him to peck at. The bird looked confused, darting his beak down and attacking the small white pellets he had made of the pieces he had ripped from the card. He sighed and held the card up to Beau again. “Here. Happy?”

The card was back! Oh, it was a neat toy! But the stick-things were back too. He nibbled at them. Get away from Beau’s toy. My toy. Mine.

The bird pretended to attack his thick fingers, hissing and hitting them with his beak. “But if I let go, you will not have a toy any more, silly thing.” He pulled his fingers back to the edge of the card, then looked at the clock. 8:45. “Time for you to go to sleep, mein freund vogel.”

The card went away. The human started packing up its things. Oh! It was about time for…time for sleep? No! Not yet!

The bird began singing and whistling, mixing the human sounds he had learned, like wolf-whistles and the squeak of the dining room door, with the loudest bird sounds he knew. “Ja, ja. Time to go to bed.”

Kitty poked her head in. “I thought I heard him. Bed time already?” She looked disappointed.

“It is.”

Maybe the small human would save him from the go to bed human. He started directing his song to her, whistling and bobbing and showing her what a good, handsome bird he was.

Beau extended his neck and started showing the white patches on his wings, singing and flirting with Kitty. Kurt laughed. “What a silly creature you are, Beau.”

He put the bird into his cage, then closed the door and took him into the small alcove off the kitchen where the bird slept. He covered the animal, which was still squeaking and singing loudly. “Guten nacht, Herr Beau. Now, quiet.”

He would not sleep. He was not tired. There was so much more singing and playing and eating and singing to do! He was not tired. He was just quiet in the dark because flock was quiet. He was not tired. He just wanted to rest his head in the feathers of his back for a little because it was comfortable. He closed his eyes. Soon, Beau was asleep, and what dreams he had were his alone, but probably included kindly white, blue, and brown faces giving him what he wanted all along. A family. A flock. Somewhere to call home.
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 » Tue Mar 30, 2004 4:09 pm

YAY!!!!!!! More Kurt and Beau! YAY!!!!!!! Thank you so much for writing this! That ending paragraph was so sweet!!!!! Is that the end, or will there be more sometime? I love Beau! He's so adorable, even if he did take a chunk out of Kurt's favorite Bible. Thanks again! WONDERFUL story!!!!!!! :D
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~The Doctor, Survival

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by RavEnigma » Tue Mar 30, 2004 10:10 pm

:love Awwwwww! Please write more soon! Beau is the cutest! ^_^
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Lauren » Wed Mar 31, 2004 3:36 am

awww Beau made friends wif Kurt a little bit...but why does Beau hate his fingers? Is it because of Rogue that he hates all stick things?
"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 Sabre » Wed Mar 31, 2004 9:04 am

Awww. I love your "Believer" story from the Odd Couple Challenge :) So sweet.

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Wed Mar 31, 2004 11:47 am

Beau doesn't really hate Kurt's fingers. It's a simple fact that 'tiels sometimes see our fingers as rivals for stuff they want. Even my female, who's about as non-aggressive as cockatiels come, sometimes hisses and pretends to bite my fingers because they're holding onto a thing she's playing with.

Beau is just a male cockatiel, behaving as all male cockies do.

Thanks for your vote of confidence, Sabre!
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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Children of the Couples Universe!

Post by Wolvertique » Wed Mar 31, 2004 1:07 pm

“Can you imagine what the kids would be like?”

*********************************
Petra Rasputin, daughter of Nereel of the Savage Land and the X-Man Colossus, sighed, cleaning last night’s picnic up with Remy. Thankfully, Sean and Emma had babysitting duty, so Marie LeBeau-Rasputin, their child, was with them. If not, she’d probably be following her parents around, charging up the fallen napkins and throwing them at birds to see if she could cover them with armor.

She loved Marie, of course. She was a bright little three year old girl. She just got into trouble sometimes because she still didn’t understand why she was supposed to control her powers, so she wouldn’t always do it. Not even for Daddy.

She heard a shout, then a child crying in the distance. Remy looked up and sighed. They said in unison, “Miko.”

A small boy with rich brown skin and salt-and-pepper hair ran to Remy, blinded by tears, and lifted his arms to be picked up. He swung the child up and wiped off his face as Rogue sat, watching. “What wrong, little fella?”

Brian Xavier-Munroe sniffled, then pointed to a nasty scratch on his arm. “Miko did it.” A small drop of blood had formed at the end, and upon seeing it, the four year old boy wailed and hid his face in Remy’s T-shirt.

“Should I call out the troops?” Petra fanned herself as Remy pulled out a clean handkerchief and covered the minor wound.

“Nah, chere, he be fine. Remy just take a little walk, find Miko.” The child had gone down to sniffs and hitching breaths, calming down. Remy pushed him over to Rogue, who took his hand.

“Come on, Brian. Where are your parents? Want to go see Mamma and Daddy?”

He sniffled, then closed his blue eyes, concentrating. “Mamma and Daddy in the library. Kissing again,” he said, disgusted, opening his eyes wide and making a face.

Petra smiled. “Let’s go to them, then. They will stop kissing for sure.” She and the small boy walked into the mansion and closed the door.

*********************************
Most of the adults knew, by this time, where Miko’s favorite hiding places were. She had a spot in a tree by the small brook on the north side of the property, a cave under the gazebo in back, or a perch by a small stand of trees where deer sometimes came in the fall. Remy checked the gazebo first, carefully, and saw the small blue haired girl hiding under there, sniffling but defiant, the slight blue tinge to her skin from her blue body hair accenting her amber eyes.

“I didn’t do it.” She glared at him. “You’re not my daddy.”

Remy smiled. “Non. But a friend of Remy’s say you hurt him.”

She crawled out from under the dark space. Her Sesame Street T-shirt was torn and dirty. “Brian fell. I didn’t hit him.” She stared at her feet.

Remy coughed to hide his laughter. “What happened?” After a few minutes’ interrogation, Remy managed to piece together that Miko had lured Brian away from the other kids playing catch. She had scared him by pretending she wanted to fight him, and he fell over trying to get away.

“Come on. We gotta tell your parents about this.” Remy opened his communicator. A resigned, sweet female voice answered him. “Raven. Let this be good news for once, please.”

“Sorry, Raven. I got Miko here. She need talk to you ‘bout what she did to Brian.”

“Brian again?” The former Mystique, currently known as Raven, sighed. “All right. Bring the rug rat here.”

“I’m not a rug rat. I’m a big girl.” Miko’s thick arms were crossed against her chest and she looked rebellious. Not surprising. In fact, she looked a lot like her father when she stood that way.

“Come on, big girl. Let’s go find your mom.”

******************************
In the day care, the scene was utter chaos. Sean was trying to gather the McCoy-Grey triplets for lunch, Emma was working on making Charlie Summers stop taking away the other kids’ powers, and Penny Wagner was crying in a corner due to Charlie’s earlier assault, stuck in a transitional form between child and monkey, with Maeve Frost trying to comfort her. Charles sighed and put his hands to his head, dropping his son’s hand. Stop this, everyone. Charlie, stop stealing the other children’s powers. That makes us all sad. Kids, you need to eat. Come to the table. Penny, don’t worry. Everything will be all right soon.

The children made their ways, more or less willingly, to the table for lunch. Brian sat next to Penny. Maeve sat with the triplets. They had all started eating when Miko and Raven came to the door. Raven beckoned to Sean, and Emma hastily set a place for Miko at the end of the table next to two of the McCoy triplets. Miko ate as her mother pulled Sean out of the room.

“I think I will need to keep Miko with me today. She does not yet have the restraint to interact with the other children in a mature fashion.”

Sean nodded. “I’ll have to apologize too, won’t I, for lettin’ her get away with it?”

She shrugged. “How has Maeve been today?”

“Pretty good.” Sean and Emma’s daughter was an even tempered child, amazing given her parents’ wild ways. “She likes bein’ able to comfort others and Charlie’s given her plenty of chances today, the rascal.”

Charles was Scott and Rogue Summers’ son. His ability to steal away the powers of other mutants and use them was irritating, and he used it a lot to tease the other children.

A cry came from the other room and Raven and Sean quickly peeked back in. “Michelle Logan, what do you think you are doing?”

Emma was holding Penny in a corner and sent a quick plea to Sean with her eyes. Charlie Summers was standing by the table, his arms pinned behind him by a little girl with blue hair, Miko, whose head turned at her mother’s use of her full name.

The little girl looked up at her mother, rebellious, holding Charlie’s arms behind his back and pulling them up between his shoulder blades. “What daddy does.”

Raven advanced on her daughter, whose face slowly became frightened. A tear leaked from her right eye and her lower lip quivered. “Your father does not beat up helpless children, Michelle. You cannot, either. Now, let him go!”

Another fat tear joined the first. “I can’t! Charlie was being bad to Penny again. Daddy stops people from being bad. Why can’t I?”

Raven dropped to her knees and extended her arms. Miko threw herself into them, crying hard. “It is all right. I am here. You will be okay.” She rocked the child back and forth, looking daggers at Charlie Summers, who started weeping as well and sat down on the floor hard. Soon the adults had their hands full with wailing children and children who were trying to help the sad ones.

****************************
The sounds and smells were easily detected by one father, who hesitated. Maybe he should just head back up to Canada. He still had most of a tank of gas left. Then he reconsidered. If Raven caught him pullin’ a stunt like that, she’d take serious revenge. Besides, when they agreed to have a kid, he promised he’d raise her too. He shook his head and put his bike back in the garage.

He’d promised. He had to follow through. His feet didn’t seem to agree, for it took him longer than it should have to get to the kids’ playroom.

It was a nightmare in there. The McCoy-Grey kids were all together tryin’ to get Maeve Frost cooled down before she blasted someone, Chuck had his hands full with Brian, Penny Wagner was cuddled in Emma’s lap, Sean was trying to calm Charlie Summers, who was rubbing his arms and grimacing, and Raven held a sobbing Miko close. He coughed. Raven’s face showed nothing but relief. “Logan. Take your daughter.”

He picked her up easily, sitting down and snuggling her into his arms. “What’s up?”

Raven shook her head, her red hair bouncing around her blue face. “Miko decided to protect Penny from Charlie. By twisting his arms up behind his back. Hard.”

He nodded, then brushed his finger along his daughter’s face, feeling her delicate blue hairs graze his skin under the wet salt of her tears. “Heya, Miko. Rough time?”

Miko’s deep amber eyes closed and she held him tight. “Daddy.”

He ran his hand up and down her back. Her warm body was damp with sweat. Her shirt stuck to her body. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Raven go to Maeve and the McGrey kids. “Daddy?”

He looked down at the warm, damp bundle in his arms. “Yeah?”

“Was I bad?” Her lips trembled, her blue eyebrows raised over her shining eyes, her nose flaring with nerves.

“Maybe a bit.” He touched her mouth gently. “Ya know you’re not supposed to hurt anyone like you did.”

“He hurt Penny, teasing her like that.” She was pushing at him now, wanting him away from her. He held her anyway.

“Yeah. It’s good that you wanted to help her. But that wasn’t the way to do it.”

“Why not?” She relaxed in his arms.

“’Cause when an adult’s around, they get to handle kids. Gently. When you’re the grown-up, you handle it rough only with other grown-ups who can take it. Like I do.”

She thought about it for a minute. “I don’t like that. I wish I was a grown-up already so I could protect people like you do, Daddy.”

He laughed. “Kiddo, I couldn’t be happier that you’re just the age you are. I almost wish…” His voice trailed off. He almost wished she could stay this age, so very wonderfully innocent, never having to protect people the way he did, not having her edges become hard.

“Mommy was here?” Miko nodded. “I wish Mommy was here, too.”

He let it go, enjoying the feeling of her soft body against his.
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 31, 2004 9:17 pm

cockatiels sound like such funny birds...atcking fingers 'cause they're holding their toy...hehe
"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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Where I Belong Fire and Ashes

Post by Wolvertique » Tue Apr 06, 2004 12:08 pm

St. John adjusted the new uniform he had been issued. It was a little loose around the neck. It was fair decent, though, and he smoothed his hands over it, enjoying the soft leathery feel in his palms. The red and orange blended together, making him look like a living flame, and the flame-retardant insulation was good quality but light. He preened a little in the mirror and called over his shoulder. “So, what do you think, Dom?”

Dominic Petros was lying idly on his bed, the other side of the room from St. John’s, turning the pages of his friend’s latest romance novel. His brown hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it away violently. He snorted. “Do women really talk like this?”

“Some of them.” He walked over and posed as Dom looked up from the book. “Come on. Look at me. What do you think?” He stretched his arms wide.

Dom rolled his eyes. “You’re beautiful. Believe me. Now, can I keep on with this? Someone here insisted I read it and give him my opinion, and I’d like to get it over with this century.” He returned to the book, his green turtleneck wrinkling as he moved back into place.

St. John sat on the side of the bed. “Speaking of someone here, I found out that there’s been a new arrival.”

Dom turned a page.

“You’d probably want to know who he is.”

Dom didn’t blink an eye.

“Yes, you probably would.”

Dom closed the book and sat up with a resigned expression, leaving the book on the end table next to his bed. “Let me guess. You’re not going to leave me alone unless I ask.”

His eyes dancing with mischief, St. John nodded. “Try guessing first.”

He sighed. “Blob’s come to join us.”

St. John laughed. “Nope. Good one, mate. Wonder if we could bring him in.”

“No.” Dom’s flat denial touched off more laughter.

“Try again. Really.” He leaned forward eagerly. Dom raised an eyebrow.

“No. You tell me.”

He leaned back and casually ran his fingers through his hair. “Jean-Paul Beaubier’s joined the X-men’s happy little family here.”

He felt Dom heave another sigh. “That’s great. Haven’t I already told you that, despite your desire to have everyone settled around you, I don’t need your help?”

He shrugged and grinned at Dom, whose face showed exasperation but, perhaps, some interest as well…. “Just thought I’d mention it.”

“It’s been mentioned. Now, drop it.” Dom turned away and opened the book again, brown eyes dropping to the page before him. “Going somewhere, all dressed up like that?”

St. John arose and straightened his collar again. “Was thinking of finding Misty and seeing what’s up with the team.”

Dom nodded, his eyes never leaving the book. “Let me know what she tells you.”

“Sure thing, Dom.” He carefully closed their door behind him and started jauntily walking down to Misty’s room in the basement.

************************
Once Pyro had left, Dominic put down the book and frowned. Of course he knew of Jean-Paul Beaubier. Who didn’t? Most famous mutant out there, he was.

But here? Right here? Not part of their group, of course, but living in the same place made him accessible …

No. No way. St. John might believe in fairy tales, but Dominic believed in reality. Reality didn’t work this way. Being gay didn’t mean anything any more than not being gay did. He’d met his share of gay assholes in his time.

Who cared if the guy was gorgeous? And quite available? It didn’t matter. They probably wouldn’t like each other, anyway.

He picked up the book again and concentrated on it hard, squelching all inclination to replace the heroine, red-haired and strong, with someone else. Besides, it wasn’t fair to Py if he did.

Unconsciously, Dominic Petros was humming his favorite song as he read. “Tainted Love.”

************************
Misty’s room was empty. Of Misty, that is. The room itself held oodles of flowers, cards, medical equipment, furniture, lamps, as well as the bed to the left side. On the bed rested a small blue toy, a vaguely humanoid creature with a huge round nose. Curious, he picked it up. There was a small tag attached to its neck with a blue ribbon. “To my mother, a bamf of her own, from her son the Nightcrawler.”

Cute. He chuckled a little, then frowned. Where would Misty be? If he were Misty, able to finally walk about, he would go … ah. Yes.

He headed out of the room, a man with a purpose. Now, if only Misty were alone when he found her!

**********************
The kitchen was lit by the golden late afternoon sunlight. It shone on the two people at the table, holding hands. “I am surprised that you were willing to say it out loud to them.”

“Why not?” The man stretched, his hair gleaming with hints of gold. “Already told Jean I was sleepin’ with you.”

She gave him a frustrated, yet amused, look. “That was a joke. This was serious, in front of my family.”

He shrugged and put his arm around her, pulling her closer. “I was serious. Doesn’t matter who sees it.” He took in a large breath through his nose. “Doesn’t matter to you, either, right?”

She changed positions, lying her bright head on his shoulder, rusty locks spilling over his flannel collar. “Not as such. I confess some unease before I knew what your reaction would be and disquiet at Kurt’s demands.”

He gently took a piece of her hair, stroking it as he spoke. “Elf just had to sort it out in his head. He’ll come around some time.”

“I sincerely hope so.” She looked over at him as he leaned in and kissed her, softly turning her head to meet his with just the tips of his fingers.

Pyro stood, stunned, in the doorway behind Mystique and Logan. He was staring, but he didn’t realize it. He had time for one thought. Now, I know that I got it right in my books, he mused. When the hero sees the heroine with someone else, his heart does break.

He turned to go as the lovers separated. There was no hope for him now. He knew the way that people in love looked, and the two of them had that look in spades.

Logan said, quietly, not looking at him, “Gonna go, or gonna be polite and speak up, Allerdyce?”

St. John pulled himself together as the lovebirds turned to look at him, putting on his usual amused expression. It felt plastic and ridiculous, but if it was, neither Misty nor Logan let on. “Just don’t want to intrude on a private moment, mate. Goes against my nature.”

Mystique raised her head proudly, twisting around to see him. “Certainly not. What can I do for you, St. John?”

He smiled and repeated the cover story he’d told Avalanche earlier. “Just wanted to see if there was something going on for the team tomorrow. We really should start working together.” It was possible to keep going with a broken heart. He’d have to incorporate this whole experience into his next story.

“Not that soon. I will begin having regular team practices in about a week or so. In the meantime, I suggest you become familiar with each other and the rest of the X-men in a more informal way, by taking meals and Danger Room workouts together.” Misty looked cool and collected now. She was lovely.

He nodded. “Right. See you around, then.” He tore his eyes from the couple and walked out as graciously as he could. Maybe his first attempt to get to know his new teammates should be in the local bars while he got rip-roaring drunk. He left, considering who to ask and who would know the best places to get a good stiff drink.

*****************************
I watched until the fire guy was gone. He smelled wrong somehow. Mystique sighed. “I fear we shall have many more such encounters.”

“Hm?” I looked her over. She stretched out her neck, turning from one side to the other.

“I do not believe most people are ready to accept us as a couple. St. John’s reaction will probably be typical.”

Maybe that was why the guy had a funny scent. Sure. “Guess so.” I put my arm back around her. “You mind?”

She smiled and snuggled into my side. “Not really. I can understand their surprise. I will tolerate it.”

Good. I unwound and let her warmth sink into me. “Logan?”

“Yep.”

“Would you show me your quarters?”

“Why?” I was playing with her hair again. I found a gold strand and held it to the light.

“I wish to see where you reside. You have already seen my room numerous times.” She was hidin’ something again. It didn’t sound important, though, so I let it slide this time.

“Sure.” I pushed her out of the kitchen and over to the elevator. “It ain’t much, but it’s mine.”

“I would wager you say that to all the women you take there.”

Mystique? Teasin’ me? I bared my teeth at her. “Every time.” She gave me an innocent look as the elevator door opened and Chuck wheeled out. He nodded. “Mystique. Logan.”

I pushed her in. She said, formally, “Charles.” I didn’t say anything. Figured I didn’t have to. He turned around and watched us as the door closed, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Heh. Poor old Chuck was wonderin’ what was goin’ on.

Let him.
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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Where I Belong Heading Out

Post by Wolvertique » Thu Apr 08, 2004 11:42 am

'Her lips trembled. His green eyes followed every move. What was she going to say? "Lord D'Alain," she began, eyes downcast, hands twisting in her lap.'

Dom looked up from the book as St. John burst back into their room, slamming the door open and burning with energy. "Dom! Get up. We're going out drinking."

He put the book down, sighing. At this rate, he'd never get through this sappy story. "Okay. Why?"

The man bounced onto his bed, punching his arm lightly. His hand trembled a little and behind St. John's manic blue eyes and wide grin, he saw a desperate plea for help. "Oh, Misty said we should get to know each other informally. What's more informal than drinking?"

"St. John? What's wrong?" He got up and the blond man leaped off the bed to paw through a drawer.

"Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Ah!" He held up a wallet in triumph. "I'll gather the troops. You find a vehicle suitable for our night out. After all, you're designated driver."

"Hey!" The blond man turned at his cry. He was willing to help Py out, sure, but this was going above and beyond.

"Don't worry. I'm D.D. next time." St. John kept pushing the wallet at his side. "Pockets. Pockets. Ah!" He slid the wallet into a waist pouch and waved energetically. "Good luck, Dom. See you at the motor pool."

Great. He was stuck being the responsible one again, waiting for his friend to get sloshed enough to talk about what was bothering him. He shook his head and gave himself a once-over in the mirror. At least he was good at it, he thought, running a comb through his wayward hair. "You should have known better," he told his sober reflection's brown eyes. He straightened his turtleneck and shook his head. "You should never have gotten involved."

His reflection did not answer, but his expression lightened as he turned away. St. John didn't have a bad idea, at that, even though it left him high and dry. He picked up his keys and walked out of the room to find Charles Xavier.

***********************************
St. John sped down the hallway of the men's dormitory wing, then stopped. Why go ask the girls first when he was already here? Smiling, he turned and knocked on the first door.

The tousled brown head of Scott Summers peered out, then the door opened fully. "St. John? Do you need something?"

"No, no, no, no, no. YOU need something. You need a good stiff drink. Come with me and I'll see you get it." He walked away but stopped when he noticed that the other man had not budged from the doorway.

"Sorry. I have plans tonight." Scott sighed, scratching his head. "Thanks, though. Why don't you ask Kurt? He's the one who really needs time out."

"Kurt?" Kurt. Oh, yes. Misty's son. Perfect! He went to the man's room, not listening as Scott's door quietly closed and Dom's opened.

He knocked three times in rapid succession and he heard a startled cry from inside.

"Are you all right in there?" He waited. There was a soft popping sound from behind his back and he whirled to see clouds of brimstone surrounding a rather pissed off Kurt. "Do you know what you have done?"

He backed up a step or two, smiling. "Asked you to come out drinking with us? Come on, mate, don't be sore. It'll be fun."

The blue man fingered the hole in his uniform but relaxed. "Drinking. With you." He laughed shortly. "Who else are you asking?"

Pyro grinned. "Everybody. Well, other than a few fellas, I guess. By the way, which is Northstar's room?"

Kurt blinked, perplexed. "Over there. But why …" Pyro was already heading toward Northstar's door, calling back, "See you at the motor pool!"

He happily knocked on Northstar's door, then waited. No one answered. He knocked again, harder. No one answered again. He knocked harder and louder.

The door flew open with a bang and he had to leap backward to avoid knocking ON the man himself, whose blue eyes snapped with nearly palpable anger. Jean-Paul towered over him, looking far from the delicate, elfin figure in his skiing pictures. "Do you know what you have done?" he said in a barely controlled tone.

"Yeah. Asked you to come out drinking tonight." He backed up a few more steps. "Fellow author and all, thought you'd like it."

Confusion replaced anger. "Fellow author?" He crossed his arms across his chest, neatly avoiding creasing his soft navy blue sweater.

"Oh, yes!" Pyro grinned. "Just got back from my ninth book tour."

Jean-Paul relaxed against the door frame. "How awful was it?"

"About as awful as it could be. The fans, the places, the constant travel, the missed flights…Come on. Let's talk about it over a tall frosty beer or two."
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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Blue Velvet Dreams Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Fri Apr 09, 2004 2:45 pm

I gathered together my assault team with some worry and reluctance. We had all been shaken by the idea that we had harmed, had killed those for whom we cared. But I had to put aside my feelings again, cling to the memory of those warm blue velvet dreams, and believe we could work together as a team again.

If I could not believe it, I could not make others believe it.

We assembled back in the kitchen after taking stock of weapons and other supplies. Our assault team was gathered there: Remy, Rogue, Jean, Scott, Logan, and Raven.

I cleared my throat. “The others are going back to the mansion under Hank’s command.” Their eyes tracked me as I began pacing. “I, of course, must hold back some because of my condition, so I shall coordinate efforts outside.”

“Can’t do it without someone to back ya up, Storm.” Logan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “No matter how good ya are at hidin’, someone can always find you.”

I frowned. “I should be fine outside.”

“He’s right,” Scott said quietly, standing apart from the others, head bent as if in prayer. “I won’t let you do this alone.”

“I won’t either, sugar. Neither will the rest of the team. Raven’s … unique, but she agrees with me.” Rogue spoke and Raven nodded once, eyes grave, but with a small smile on her face.

“Fine,” I sighed. “Which of you will stand guard over me?”

“Not us, Storm. Kurt.” Remy casually pulled a cigarette from his pocket. Rogue glared at him and he just as casually tossed it to the floor. “Hank’ll take over from him no problem, then he come join us.”

“You set this up.” I felt tremendous relief. They had worked together ahead of time to figure this out. They could still work as a team.

“Guilty.” Jean’s face was calm, her voice relaxed. “We told Hank to take over for Kurt before he left. Kurt should be here soon.”

I put aside the pleasure washing over me at the idea of seeing my fiancé again to focus on our mission. “Very well. Now that we are all here, let me tell you what I have learned.” I unfolded some blueprints on the table. “The portion of the Hellfire Club that has been coming after us has its headquarters on the 45th floor of this office building in New York. The two floors above and below it are empty, but all the others are occupied with various businesses. This is how the floor was laid out when these plans were filed with the city. Supposedly.” I watched as they all leaned in to take a look at the sheets on the table.

“However, I contacted some of the contractors who were hired to do “renovations” after those plans were filed with the city. Using what they told me, we constructed these blueprints instead.” I pulled out the other set of blueprints and unfolded them on top of the first set.

The changes were startling, and I had not even begun to detail them. The group huddled together over the plans, poring over them and discussing them in low tones. “Lots more open space here, for what?” “…all the wiring leading to this room, must mean somethin’…” “ … go in here for cover.”

We discussed strategy for a while, then came up with a plan we all liked which should gain us the upper hand.

If we are lucky.

If everything goes as planned.

I leaned a little on Kurt as we left the confines of the Academy. He easily took my weight as we headed out for my observation post in a building a block away from the Hellfire Club assault building.

*******************
Blue Velvet Dreams – Rogue’s Reality

All my life, I’ve dreamed of the perfect knight comin’ along. He’d love me and be utterly perfect. As a teenager, I even wrote down the things he’d have to be before I’d be willing to ride away with him on his white horse.

Isn’t it funny how life works out?

I never thought I could fall for a known criminal, despite my history of law breakin’. I never thought when I did that I wouldn’t change him, make him want to stop.

I’ve never even asked him to try.

Like I said, funny. For the past several weeks, it was like I was that teenaged girl again, arrogant and judgmental, unwilling to forgive. “You messed up? Fine. You can’t be the one I’m lookin’ for.”

Now I feel embarrassed. Remy said I shouldn’t worry about it, that he understands. I do too, I guess. Mastermind’s one powerful mutant, after all.

I can’t help feeling ashamed, though. Remy’s no white knight, but he didn’t deserve what I put him through.

So I turn to Raven, though I remain cuddled in Remy’s arms. I met Raven when I was still with Mystique. She was as goofy then as she is now, overacting and clowning around worse than Bobby does.

She does it with her magic, too. When Pyro targeted her with his fire, she started screaming “I want to go home” and hit her shoes together three times. She vanished.

Yeah. It got pretty bad. Mama’s not the kind who can take that kind of joke, though Pyro was laughin’ his ass off by the end. Hell, in between bein’ mad at her for hurting my friends, I thought she was funny. We never saw her again after that one fight we had, but Mama still probably had her eye out for the little witch.

“So why’d you volunteer for this little mission, Raven?”

She turned, her hot pink hat nearly falling off her head. She caught it easily, shook a white rabbit out of it, and put it back on. I groaned and caught the rabbit, holding it gently as its sides trembled. “Who told you I volunteered, eh?” She raised one eyebrow, pretending to be suspicious.

I laughed. “Come on. I know you. No way anyone’s tellin’ you to do something you don’t like.”

Her face got as innocent as a five year old kid’s. “Hey, I do whatever the voices in my head tell me to do.” She gave a wicked grin. “Besides, this will give me the chance to practice some of my new spells.”

"New spells?" Remy took the rabbit from me and opened the window, watching as Scott slowed for the light, then letting the animal go.

"Oh, laws, we got spells, me and Joe. Don't we, Joe?" Raven pulled out a golden wand with a star at the top made of a lacy golden fabric, dotted with gold sequins. It was amazingly tacky. She caressed it as she spoke. "Ah, me and Joe."

Remy's body was shaking against mine. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughin' myself. "So, do you do any other impersonations?"

She raised an eyebrow, all playfulness gone in a heartbeat. "Of course not. Put down that silly thing, Raven, and pay attention for once." The tone, the words, the gestures, all were Dr. Strange, all right. Remy started laughing, I didn't try to fight it either, and even Scott made a noise I'd swear was laughter from the front.

Her eyes lit up. "Facetiousness is welcome, Raven, but not in dire circumstances such as … oh, bother. You are going to continue with these shenanigans regardless." I howled. That was our Beast, all right.

She continued, and we laughed, until we entered the city. I couldn't laugh any more. My aching ribs suddenly seemed like a warning. A judgement.

He took my hand. "Chere. Remy here."

I smiled, for him. "I'm glad. I think I might be runnin' otherwise."
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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Not Funny

Post by Wolvertique » Sat Apr 10, 2004 3:49 am

Storm moaned. The walls were slowly turning green. And wasn't the Professor unable to fly? Yet there he was, flapping over the couch, turning red and blue. He was too bright to look at, the brilliant red hurting her eyes.

She wiped the sweat from her brow and tried to calm down. None of this made sense. She just had one beer. It should not be affecting her this way. Her hand was turning into a large fish. Probably a haddock. Its flat eyes winked at her loudly. She screamed and tried to make her fingers come back by slamming the fish into the algae covered wall.

Someone was talking at her. It was ... a dog? A large golden retriever was talking to her. She screamed and jumped up onto the wall.

"What the hell is wrong with Storm?" Jubilee pulled back from the woman, who was screaming and clinging to the wall.

"I don't know," Rogue gasped, trying to keep Bobby from flying away as Storm's winds whipped through the room. "She usually has a better head than this."

Bobby gulped. "Did she take the Beck's in the back of the fridge?"

Rogue tightened her grip on Bobby and pulled him up to her face. "What did you do?"

He gave a weak smile. "Uhm...nothing?"

Kurt flew by, yelping. Rogue shook Bobby gently. "What did you DO, soon to be ex-Iceman?"

Sweat was pouring down Bobby's face. He gave a sheepish grin. "You see, Logan told my last date I had herpes, so I was gonna get even with him, and since he won't touch American beer ... I kinda spiked it with as much LSD as Remy could get for me."

"Remy?" Rogue let Bobby go, and he let out a "WHOA!" as he turned to ice and slammed through the wall into the kitchen. She flew to the ceiling and ripped Kurt down.

"Rogue?" The blue teleporter clung to her, frantic, as a mini-tornado developed in the living room and Storm screamed something about mushrooms.

"She's your girlfriend, Kurt. Calm her down." She hooked one of his arms around Storm's waist and flew off. The swamp rat had gone too far this time.
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 Apr 10, 2004 3:56 am

LSD? that is just insane! I mean...what will happen to Beau in this kind of situation! I think Beau should give that swamp rat a good hard nibble on the ear! Man, beau could so take him down and... I'M KIDDING This was really good so far! me wants more!
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Sat Apr 10, 2004 4:16 am

Oh, there will be more. My husband just interrupted me with something else before I could finish the 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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STILL Not Funny

Post by Wolvertique » Sat Apr 10, 2004 3:45 pm

Kurt sighed and clung to Ororo, nervous and frightened. It's one thing to see your girlfriend use her powers against your enemies, but it's quite another to have her use them against you. He tried singing to her, gently, an old Romani lullaby his foster mother had used on him.

The strawberry flavored fog clinging to her skin melted away as the flute began playing. The music was amazing, more than she'd ever felt before. She could feel the music in her heart, pounding in her head. She began to cry. It was amazing.

He held on tighter as the sky split open and the rain came pouring down, in through the open windows, spattering onto the wall, driven by the wind. At least she was calming down. Well, kind of.

She sniffled and looked down to see Mystique clinging to her. Her skin felt red against Ororo's, and her eyes throbbed with a heartbeat she could taste. It tasted of melancholy and sadness. She cried with Mystique as the woman sang on, filling her mind with fluffy white flowers.

"Liebe?" He felt her arm holding him, and he relaxed a little. Her face was sad but perplexed, and she was looking at him, not through him.

"Mystique." That was not the word he wanted to hear from her.

"Nein. It is Kurt."

The song was the world. Mystique was the world. Ororo was the world, too. She smiled and bent to kiss the world in her arms. The world tasted like white zinfandel and roses.

The rain started softening, the wind died down, and she looked at him with love, then bent down for a kiss. He eagerly returned it. She was not particularly aggressive, normally, but he enjoyed the change in her.

The world pulled back from her. No. This was not going to happen. She pulled the world back to her. It had shrunk to the size of an apple. Mmm. It tasted like sunshine.

"Ororo?" He gasped as she pulled him close when he would have withdrawn, then began nibbling his skin.

She giggled. "And to think it all started with one kiss." She looked up at the ceiling. "Hi, Charles!" She waved at the ceiling, then gasped. "I don't know, they're turning into flowers." She turned to Kurt. "Apple of my eye of the world of my eye of the world …" She cut off and started giggling again as he stared at her, perplexed.

"Come with me." The apple pulled at the vines making up her arm. She could see the pull in straight black lines before it happened. It was interesting. The vines entwined with the apple and the apple was the vine and all was one and one was all. "This must be what it's like to be the Dalai Lama, only with more leaves." Wait. That wasn't right. "Leaving the world is easier than worlding the leaf."

She giggled. The cute and fluffy bunnies eating the cute and fluffy werewolf were enough. She did not need to speak. Vines did not speak anyway.

Kurt pulled Ororo, unresisting, down to the elevator so they could go down to the medical bay. Her eyes burned bright. The rain continued to fall, a light misting rain now, as she stared at the elevator buttons. "Do not worry, liebchen. We will have you all right."

The lamp post was silly. But it was a nice lamp post. Maybe it was the lamp post to the wardrobe. She patted it. It let off a smell like baked beans and hemp.

Kurt leaped back as Storm socked him in the arm hard. "Please, mein freund. I need that arm still."

The elevator doors opened, finally, and he shoved her inside. She moaned a little in protest.

The farmer had pulled her out by the roots! She was only trying to grow a little in his nice field of wheat. The gold of it still burned in her chest, the feeling of drawing water up from the soil pounded in her hands. She fell on him.

Storm fell over, crying again, curling into a ball at his feet. He had to force her up so he could get her to the medical bay.
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 RavEnigma » Sat Apr 10, 2004 7:17 pm

:lol 'Ro's higher than the Hubble telescope! The Mystique bit was hilarious! I can sorta see where she'd get the mixup from, actually. Oh, man, Remy and Bobby are gonna be dead when she's back to normal. I just hope she doesn't get addicted! Please write more soon!
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Power

Post by Wolvertique » Sun Apr 11, 2004 2:38 am

Author's Note: I've been trying to write a story based on the following quote for weeks now. This is what I have so far.

"Never really needed to know you, yeah, till I heard you sing to me at night." -- 8x10, Fefe Dobson

****************************************
Kitty Pryde was in trouble and she knew it. The twenty-two year old had hit a bad patch of weather over the British Isles (not surprising) that she shouldn't have, but her eyes had been blurring from lack of sleep. It had been two days since the X-men had called her in for some special research on a matter related to Nathaniel Essex. She hadn't slept, trying to absorb all the data she could. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Then her research led her to the idea of doing further study in England. She had begged to take the Blackbird, despite her suddenly dry throat and burning eyes, and she had been allowed to do so provided she took someone else with her.

She took Lockheed.

She felt hot and dizzy as she tried to keep the plane steady. Lockheed chirped at her, worried, as she trembled, her hands twitching on the controls. She tried to smile. "Any chance you know how to land a plane, too, miracle worker?"

Lockheed hopped down to the computer console and tapped on a few keys. The plane leveled off and started going down smoothly. Kitty sighed and relaxed in her chair. Good old Lockheed. Her head lolled back, her eyes closed, and she slipped into a dark dream.

***************************
He sat alone in his cabin in Scotland, reading a book. It was how he spent much of his time these days, now that he had rejected bending to the wills of others. "Bloody sot," he murmured, turning a page. Sauron reminded him, uncomfortably, of those who had taken his reins in the past. "And don't even get me started on Grima, either," he muttered. "Servile nutter."

He was so engrossed in his book, he didn't notice at first that someone was hammering on his door. When he did, he sighed. "Bloody salesmen."

He walked through his dark living room to his door, pausing to set his book down on the end table by his chair. He checked the small screen monitor of his laptop in the foyer. It showed pouring rain and a small something outside the door. A dog? About the right size, but not the right color. He dropped down and sat Indian style before the computer, enhancing the focus on the camera. The image sharpened and became a small dragon. Lockheed?

Well. This could end up being quite a pisser.

He carefully took a standard pistol from the gun rack by the door, clicked off the safety, and opened the door as the dragon flew up to beat against it again. Surprised, Lockheed flew into his house past his face, spattering rain over his carpet and into his mouth.

"What? Get out of here." He pointed to the door.

The dragon breathed a curl of fire at him in warning. He frowned. "Whatever you've heard about me is wrong. I won't succumb to threats."

Lockheed blinked, then ran over to his leg and pulled at his pants, then looked at the door. He sighed. "You want me to go out in the bloomin' rain for some shirty girl who's part of a group of people who bleedin' hate me, don't you?"

The dragon nodded once, crisply, then opened his eyes wide and tried to look pathetic.

He laughed bitterly. "Save it. I've done better than you in my day." He walked over to the closet and pulled out his slicker. He gestured to the dragon with the pistol. "Gonna need this, or no?" Lockheed shook his head no.

The man pulled out a hat, put it on, grabbed his car keys from the slot below the gun rack, closed up the rack again after putting the safety back on the pistol and putting it away, and mock-bowed to the dragon. "After you." The dragon willingly flopped out into the wet weather again and the man followed him.

***********************************
She was warm, almost too warm. A gentle English accented voice was talking soothingly in the background. "There now. All tucked in, nightlight on, monitor connected so's I can look in on you if you need it, and a dragon who'd never dream of setting the place on fire." The last part was said with an undercurrent of warning.

A warm weight settled on her stomach. It hurt. She groaned a little and turned toward the voice in hope. The voice laughed. "Lay off, there, you overgrown mutt." The weight shifted to lie against her left side, cuddled between her arm and her ribs.

Footsteps were going away. She turned toward them again. She wasn't sure why, but she felt near panic at the idea of being alone. "Please …" she managed through hot, dry lips.

"Yes?" The steps returned and a weight settled on the right side of the bed. She was on a bed.

"Don't go."

There was a pause. All she could hear was Lockheed's breathing and her own pulse in her head. "Sure you know what you're saying, Kitty?"

A tear formed at the inside corner of her right eye, sliding under her lid to the outside corner, then tickling out and down her cheek. She couldn't stop it. "Please."

The man's breath caught. He released it in an audible sigh. "Never thought I'd hear anyone say that and mean it. Sure. I'll stay."

His voice sounded familiar. Yet it was different than it had been when she'd heard it before. She knew that. Hm.

Something was dragged across the carpeted floor, probably a chair. "You mind a bit of music as you drop off?"

She smiled and turned away from him. Music was just fine.

"I'll take that as a yes." Soon, instrumental music was playing, and she was sinking deeply into the pond of sleep.

********************************
He sat, watching Kitty sleep in his bed. He'd never had a woman in his bed before, one who slept there, anyhow. One he hadn't needed to pay to get her in the door. He brushed a hand through his neatly groomed reddish brown hair, his deep brown eyes gentle for once as he saw her sigh and reach out to Lockheed.

The instrumental turned to the beginning of one of his favorite songs from Phantom. Quietly, not wanting to awaken either of his guests, he sang the words, noting the irony as he did.

"No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here, nothing can harm you. My words will warm and calm you …"

He'd never been much protection to anyone. Tried to lead the Brotherhood, but that didn't really work out. The only thing that seemed to work was hiding from everyone else. He'd been hated his whole life, even by those who used him.

But as he sang, he let a small spark of hope spring to life.

"All I want is freedom, a world with no more night, and you, always beside me, to hold me and to hide me. Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime …"

Right. His own mum and dad didn't want to spend a life with him, did they? How could any woman choose the Phantom over a rich, handsome man? He couldn't see it. Beauty never chose the Beast in real life, only in fairy tales. Of course, Phantom showed it the way it really was.

"Love me, that's all I ask of you …" he sang in a rich tenor, nearly sobbing it, as the music swelled. He grinned a little despite himself. "Move over, Michael Crawford."

****************************
She always had nightmares when she had a fever. In fact, she always had the same nightmare. In it, somehow, her fingers got pricked by a needle and she fell, fast, frightening.

The nightmare began as it always did. The needle was stretched out between her fingers horizontally. She brought them together reflexively, and it pierced her index finger and thumb. She started to fall, but a man caught her with his voice. Sean Cassidy?

No. She'd heard Sean sing. This wasn't him. It was soothing, though. She let him hold her, keep her from falling down into the darkness. No more talk of darkness. She concentrated on his voice, his words, his passion holding her up, making her float and fly.

She broke to the surface and opened her eyes as he turned away and said something about being Michael Crawford. In the dim lamplight, though, he didn't look like him. He looked like a cleaned up version of … the Toad?

She closed her eyes again fast. He did not react. She breathed evenly, trying to fake sleep, while she turned this over in her mind. The Toad had taken her in, saved her from her nightmare? She would never have imagined the Toad singing at all, much less singing so emotionally. She kept the memory close as she went back to sleep this time, a sleep free of nightmares.
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 » Sun Apr 11, 2004 4:24 am

*searches all over the place* where is he!? *picks up one feather* where's beau?!! you opened a pandora's box when you wrote that! now I's be addicted!

and WHY ARE YOU STALKING ME?!
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by theindigojester » Sun Apr 11, 2004 6:15 am

Forget about Beau! That last story was beautiful! I loved how you led up to revealing who the mysterious man was and the description was very nice. It was such an interesting change form the way I have seen Toad portrayed and you used three characters that are rarely in the limelight (at least from the fanfics I've read :) ) I look forward to seeing what happens.
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by StarLightCrawler » Sun Apr 11, 2004 6:26 am

Yes thats is a nice change. I realy enjoyed that one. It is nice to see a diff story and i think this one is just realy captivating(sp).
Sorry for any miss typing or miss spelling.
If (sp) is by the word that means i don't know how to spell it.
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Sun Apr 11, 2004 12:02 pm

Jeez. Thanks, guys. By the way, you got it right, SLC.

Oh, you just now noticed I'm stalking you, Lauren? Sheesh, I've had that up for months now. ;)

So you want Beau as an Easter present, eh? Give me a few minutes and we'll see. I don't celebrate Easter but I'm sure you do.
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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The Great Easter Egg Hunt

Post by Wolvertique » Sun Apr 11, 2004 1:32 pm

Beau was in a new place today. It was full of flock and some non-flock. It was loud and exciting. He decided to speak up so the flock would know he was there and was excited too.

Everyone had gathered for the annual Xavier Mansion Easter Egg Hunt. People who normally did not live at the mansion but were somehow affiliated with the X-men had started arriving at sunrise. A small prayer service was held in the chapel, attended by a few faithful, but now everyone was together in the living room. The cockatiel was shrieking his head off, screaming over the crowd in his metal cage in the back of the room, his crest up, his body clinging to the door of his cage, occasionally striking the metal bars to make a loud, unpleasant sound.

"Why did you ever get that?" shouted Lorna Summers, trying to get Bobby's attention. "He's more trouble than you ever were."

Bobby bit back a sarcastic reply. "You just answered your own question!" he yelled cheerfully.

He was being left out. Flock got to come and go out of his cage. He wanted out too! Flock might get lost if he didn't get out and help them find their way back!

Heads were turning as Beau increased the pitch and tempo of his screams, sounding like a pitifully tortured birdie. He flapped his wings, excited by the attention, and continued banging on the cage door as he shrieked to be let out.

Logan cut through the crowd and extended his claws. Silence fell. "Get the doors closed," he growled as he walked over to the cage.

Flock that was fun to preen came to his cage. Out? Was he getting out? Beau chirped a soft, rising trill.

The doors to the living room shut as people scrambled out of the short man's way. He retracted his claws once he got to the cage door and couldn't keep the smirk off his face upon hearing Beau's quiet chirps. "Wondering what's goin' on, huh?"

Oo, he was going to get Out. He was! He clung to the side of the cage and waited for the door to open.

The bird's "question chirps" stopped as Logan opened his door and took the animal out on his hand. The bird immediately started climbing up to his shoulder.

Got to go to the place next to the flock. That's where he belonged. He climbed the long way up to the flock and gave it a friendly nibble before settling in to preen his feathers.

He growled a little as the bird bit him, then started nibbling its gray chest feathers, yellow head moving furiously through them.

"Good thing I don't believe in biting back," he breathed as the announcement was made that the eggs had been hidden all over the first floor, and that only people with powers that wouldn't help them find the eggs or who were willing to wear power inhibitor collars ("this means you, Jean") could look for them.

The crowd cheered. Beau got scared and flew crazily around the room.

Loud noise. Scary! Too many people, too much not-flock. Get away! Scared!

The animal landed behind the couch, his claws scrabbling for an instant on the windowsill above before he fell. He hissed and complained as he landed, almost inaudible over the sounds of people leaving to start the hunt.

Logan sighed. He wasn't going to be part of the hunt for two reasons. He'd helped hide some of the eggs and he wasn't turning his senses off for anyone. That meant he had to retrieve the stupid bird.

Beau hissed in the dark place. Scary loud noises were all around him from scary not-flock and he hid.

"Come here, you." The protecting couch was pulled out from the wall and a hand reached for Beau.

Bite it!

Logan grabbed the bird, despite the painful bite it gave him, and pulled the hissing, biting animal up to his shoulder again, plopping him down there, then heading to the kitchen for a beer.

Beau slowly came back to himself from the scary place. Flock was there. He was in the Beau place. The scary not-flock was gone. He relaxed and turned to preening his wing again.
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 RavEnigma » Mon Apr 12, 2004 2:42 am

:D Heh, poor Wolvie! I got to hide the easter eggs on my family's hunt, too! Sammy, Scooter, and Cuddles (my 3 bunnies) weren't too happy about all the little kids swarming the yard and trying to pet them, especially after the kids found the eggs I had hidden in the hutch....Oh, well. Keep it up! Loved the story with Toad, please let there be more! It was really sweet!
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