Funsize Drabbles

Father's Day (part 2)

Fri, 16 Mar 2012 15:37:56 -0400

v. Warren

Archangel had been quiet for so long that he thought it was over. He wasn’t wasting any time, spending as much of it as he could with Betsy and sweet little Katy with her blonde, wavy hair and curious eyes and her love of his wings. He took her on night time flies to get her to go to sleep and together they made shapes from the stars.

He’d been trying to coerce Betsy into having another. He couldn’t help it; he loved Katy so much, but he missed having a little baby. He didn’t know why. It was the socks; he thought. He liked putting such tiny socks on such tiny feet.

“Mommy says that it’s Father’s Day.” Katy said one day when she was covering Warren in flowers.

“It is.”

“That’s stupid.” She dumped her little wicker basket of flowers all over Warren’s head. “Every day is Father’s day. I love you every day. And you love me, too. So every day is Katy day.”

“You know what? You’re right.” Warren scooped Katy up and brushed the flowers out of his face. “Every day is Father’s Day and Mother’s Day and Katy Day.”

Katy looked very pleased with herself, and decided to shoot for extra.

“Can every day be Cake Day, too?”

vi. Remy

“Boys, can de two o’ you stop glarin’ at each other for all o’ five minutes? Please?”

“No.”

“Non.”

Remy held his head in his hands and sighed. Rogue had let him have Oli for the weekend out of courtesy for the holiday, but it was turning out to be a gigantic mess. Oli and Jeremie had been fighting since Friday and Remy was at his wit’s end with these kids. His headache was raging so badly that he almost missed Marie tugging on his sleeve in her quiet little way.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy.” She held up her hand-made card for him to take. Instead, he scooped his baby girl up and snuggled her close.

“Why, merci, petite princesse.”

Immediately, Oli and Jeremie ran off to go try and find crayons and markers so that they could outdo each other in their affections for their father.

vii. Quentin

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy.”

“What, baby?” Quentin pulled the Cerebra helmet off of his head and scooped Cecilia up so that she could wrap her arms around his shoulders.

“Are you going to shave your head bald?”

“No. Why?”

“Professor Xavier is a telepath and he has a bald head.”

“No, Cece, I’m keeping my hair.” Quentin carried Cecilia out of the room and back into the spacious sub-level hallways. He didn’t question how she got into the high security clearance areas anymore, but he still knew that she shouldn’t be down there for fear of a Danger Room malfunction or a war game that got too out of hand. These older kids were rough and he wasn’t going to let his baby girl get hurt because of their idiocy.

“Since it’s Father’s Day, can we have strawberry cake? Mommy says we can have some if you say yes.”

“You mean strawberry cheesecake? Of course we can have some. Do you want to run ahead and tell her?”

Cecilia pondered this carefully, then shook her head so that her pigtails flopped around.

“Nope. I’m gonna stay with you.”

viii. Scott

He was the man of many children, his brother joked. From dimensions near and far, to adopted children and even a granddaughter, and he’d finally had some of his own.

Despite that, Father’s Day was never a major affair with him. After he’d had to give Nathan up, he didn’t have a reason to celebrate it. Rachel had tried for a while but it got really awkward really quickly, and Nate was disinterested. Ruby just cried the whole day.

This year would be guaranteed quiet, though; Megan was on a trip with her mother to Paris, Rachel was busy with her own kids, Nate was doing his own thing, Nathan was occupied with Hope. Ruby was trying to bond with the Cuckoos over a fashion show in Milan. And Alexander…

“Dad?”

He was supposed to be in England for another two weeks, still, but he guessed that there was always room for a surprise. Scott looked up at his gangly teenage son in the doorway, still in his school blazer and uniform. He looked respectable and intelligent, with his tie and his glasses and his clean school shoes. He had a computer tablet in his hand and a smile on his face

“Alexander, you came home early?”

“I figured it was worth it. I’ve got a surprise for you.” He set the tablet down in front of Scott and lightly tapped the screen to turn it on; in a second, the display came to life with a split screen view of everyone; Nate, Nathan, Hope, the Cuckoos (and Cecilia, too), Megan, Emma, Ruby. His whole family, right there on one screen.

Even though they were separated by the miles, the importance of the day still wasn’t lost on them, and in their own way, they still spent it together.

ix. Julian

The first Father’s Day went by, unnoticed, because he was a teenager wrapped in emotion. The second was hard and tense, because Laura spent the day with Logan and James was working, so he tried to make an effort to do something with Sofie on his own, and it came disastrously close to catastrophic several times.

But now, though the tension wasn’t still all gone, it was much, much easier. He scooped Brian up away from Sofie so that he’d stop assaulting her hair, and he took a chocolate frosting covered hand to his face for his troubles. It was all laughter and happiness and a day where he didn’t have to worry about anything except making his kids smile.

By the end of it, Sofie and Brian were both asleep on him, leaving Laura to bring him a cup of something to drink.

“You think I’ve earned it?”

“Earned what?” Laura sat beside him and covered them all with the comforter once Julian set the empty glass down.

“You know. Being a dad.”

Laura pondered this for a minute, then slid up under the blankets with her family and turned out the light.

“You were a father from the start. You just didn’t see it. There was nothing to earn; it was already there.”

Father's Day

Fri, 16 Mar 2012 14:13:13 -0400

i. Logan

It was just another day in June. The beginning of summer vacation for the kids and for the teachers, too. For Logan, though, it was just more work; now that he wasn’t focusing so much on being Headmaster, he had X-Force. The AA wanted him to talk for their summer program.

He didn’t even realize the significance of that particular Sunday other than the fact that it was his only day of reprieve before he stopped doing one set of a million things and moved onto the next.

So he set up his hammock in a quiet, sunny place and decided that today would be a good day to take a nap. A nice, long nap without any interruption. Probably just hours and hours of straight sleep, the kind that he liked best.

An hour in, something blocked his sun and put something cold and wet beside him on the hammock. He opened an eye and saw Laura there, staring down at him with her hair dripping wet, probably from the pool. He didn’t think she liked swimming.

“Happy Father’s Day. I got you a gift.” She said, with a tiny hint of a smile. Logan looked down to his side to see a large, cold bottle of something called Arrogant Bastard Ale, dripping wet with condensation. Beer.

“Thank you, darlin’. You didn’t have to.”

“I did.” Laura leaned down and gave Logan a hug before she ran off to go enjoy the summer warmth some more.

ii. Tommy

Kate made sure that Father’s Day did not go ignored in their household. Sure, she was never very close to her own father and she’d read all of the charges against Tom’s adoptive dad, so she knew that they didn’t have a very good relationship, but starting a family meant turning over a new leaf. Part of that new leaf meant new traditions.

She let Tom sleep in late and had the kids help her with breakfast. Wanda was patient and so she got to crack the eggs into the pan while Peter stirred the pancake batter. Becky was still a little too small, so she helped Mommy add spoonfuls of sugar to her morning cup of coffee, and they counted them out together as they did.

They put breakfast on a tray and carried it in to where Tom was still fast asleep. She tried to tell the kids to be quiet and just kind of slip into bed with their father, but it didn’t work—they all ran in and jumped on him, shouting “Happy Father’s Day!” as loud as they could. They nearly knocked poor Tom out of bed.

He wasn’t upset, though; he laughed and hugged them and kissed the tops of their heads with a giant smile on his face.

iii. James

Unfortunately, James had a very busy schedule that demanded that he be everywhere at once. From being at the school to being at one of his offices, he rarely had time to breathe, much less to relax. He did make a point of being home in time for dinner, and he took most holidays and the girls’ and Rachel’s birthdays off, but somehow, this one slipped under his radar.

Rachel, however, had a plan.

She held her daughters’ hands in the elevator on the way up to James’ office. It was large and spacious, even with room to sit (he’d had the whole building redesigned to accommodate everyone that worked there, including the potentially injured, disabled, or women carrying children) on plush seats that lined the walls. One wall was glass, and they could see the New York skyline.

The secretary was in on their plan, so she buzzed into James’ office and told him that someone very important had come for a surprise, crucial meeting—immediately, he’d told his secretary to let them in, while the girls stifled giggles and Rachel mouthed a ‘thank you’ so that the intercom couldn’t catch it.

The secretary opened the door for them, and James was taken by surprise. Instead of some important business figure or stock broker, he had his two little girls run in and hug onto him, giving him gifts and hand-drawn cards and a half-smushed box of chocolate.

“Happy Father’s Day, James.” Rachel kissed her husband’s cheek amidst the delightful chaos.

“Why, thank you. Now, how about we all go to lunch, since you took the time to come see me, huh?”

iv. Kubark

Kubark was not accustomed to Earthling holidays such as ‘Father’s Day.’ In Shi’ar culture, you did not have one designated day to celebrate your father, you were supposed to respect him always… not that he was a glistening example of that.

Nevertheless, he was delighted when his children crawled all over him, giving him well wishes and affection on his special day. He was delighted enough that he suggested to Hisako that they have more children so that they may celebrate more well-wishes.

“Um… let’s talk about that another time.” She sighed, trying to peel Akane and Takehiko apart while they argued over who loved their father more.

Training Exercise

Fri, 16 Mar 2012 12:35:00 -0400

One bit of wisdom that experience imparted upon us as teenagers was that a training exercise stops being a training exercise and starts being a mission when you get your first fatality.

I wasn’t there when the Danger Room forced Wing to his suicide, or when Stryker’s missile killed those depowered kids. I wasn’t there for the death of Laurie Collins or even for Esme Cuckoo. Well, no, that’s a lie. In a sense I was there; in a suspended state of animation in Dr. McCoy’s lab, broken down to the bare parts while the last remnants of Kick in my system sent my already superpowered brain up to a higher plane of existence. My mind on its own was a God, and my body was practically plasma. So to say that I wasn’t there is a lie.

I was there, I just couldn’t care less.

The mutants in my Omega Gang were mostly dead and gone now. Glob Herman was the only one still alive, but he was just muscle to begin with. Their deaths didn’t affect me in the slightest. I didn’t feel an ounce of remorse or shed a single tear. I didn’t know half of the pain that the students that would become my classmates had already lived through.

In retrospect, that made me weak. Weak and stupid and unprepared completely for the damage control required on this training-exercise-turned-mission.

I don’t know what to do here. I, Quentin Quire, an Omega-level telepath with Phoenix-level potential, don’t know what to do. So maybe I’m a little scared. But I’ve got things to live for, so I try my hardest not to be.

For starters, I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a goddamned Professor. I’ve got a wife. A daughter, though she’s younger than these kids on the Blackbird with me and Genesis now. I feel safe knowing that Cecilia’s with her mother right now, safe at the mansion, probably still blissfully unaware of how much of a disaster this has turned out to be.

Genesis is the one piloting. It turned out that he was pretty adept when it came time to learn how, and he has a natural aptitude for it that, quite frankly, I don’t care to replicate with my telepathy right now. I don’t need to be Air Captain Quire, I need to be Doctor Quire. The role of the telepath is never-ending on the field.

“Get that tourniquet tighter, Shepherd.” I order, a little tensely, but I don’t yell. I hated being yelled at, by Summers or by Frost or by Wolverine. So I don’t yell at these kids because I don’t need them to hate me right now, I need them to trust me, or else the Shepherd twins are going to be reduced to one.

“Ican’tstopitfrombleedingohgodWanda-” Peter’s going a mile a minute with his words and it takes me a second to realize what he’s said. He’s probably right; His sister’s arm is bleeding from the shoulder to the elbow and we can see bone. The tourniquet might not help anything.

I run through my options. Akane Ichiki’s eye beams could cauterize the wound closed but she’s not as good with them as her brother, who isn’t here, and I don’t want to risk blowing a hole in the ship. We don’t have any good pain medication that I can give her right now without her falling asleep and dying. Think, Quire, think,think,think…

Yes!

“Keller, I need your claws out.” I snap at her, leaping over the body of the Majesdanian student whose light has flickered out on the floor; I feel bad for her, of course I do. Her brother’s still at the school, too, and they’re rare and heavily protected to begin with. Her death will mean an intergalactic incident, no matter how much I insist that she sacrificed herself, that she died bravely. Bodies are bodies no matter the cause.

I hear the snikt!of her claws piercing through her own skin just as my hands close around the blow torch. I throw it to her and she catches it in her other hand with the same ease one would a baseball.

“Superheat your claws. LeBeau, help her. Your charge can speed this up. We’re going to use you to cauterize Wanda’s wound. Oliver, keep it up with keeping her calm. Miles, get the bandages ready, you’re on standby.”

Being a squad leader is hard as hell. I don’t know how Hellion or Prodigy did it. Even now, I’m scared that I’m going to lose another one of these kids and have to face the wrath of the Avengers because Hawkeye and Speed’s daughter died under my supervision.

It works, though. Wanda’s screams fill the back of the Blackbird while Miles pinches together the wound and Sofie burns it shut with her glowing hot claws. It takes a long time and a lot of screaming, but before long, I see Miles injecting Wanda with the painkillers and wrapping her arm in the white gauze. It should be okay. Elixir can fix it properly when we get back.

“Genesis, how much farther until we get back?”

“Only a couple hundred more miles… I’ve already radioed ahead for the medical staff to be on alert. These kids are going to need a lot of help.”

“What do you mean? It was only-“

I stop and realize my mistake. I was so frightened about the Majesdanian girl’s death and Wanda Shepherd’s arm that I don’t realize that everyone else is hurt, too, save for Keller who’s healed herself already. They’re all battered and bruised and bleeding somewhere, and I can feel my heart drop into my stomach. I only saw the worst of it and didn’t realize the bigger picture.

Miles Hanson’s got a gash on his leg that could get infected, and that’s not going to help the speedster any. He’s bleeding from his head, too. Jeremie LeBeau’s been coughing blood up onto his sleeve and his shirt, and I can see where Sofie’s suit’s been torn and she’s probably healed shrapnel into herself. That’ll have to be surgically removed. Akane’s bleeding from her arms and the skin is gone on the palms of her hands and over her knuckles from all of the hitting she was doing. Oliver and Peter aren’t as bad off, but they aren’t far from it.

My team is a mess and I feel like a failure.

When the Blackbird lands, the medical team escorts the kids off. Immediately, they’re all taken down to the med-bay, with Elixir working on Wanda’s arm and the dead girl being carted off in a body bag. I can hear her brother’s thoughts, frantic, inside the school, wondering where she is.

I sit in there for what must be hours before I hear the door slide open. Little feet make little noises on the metallic floor of the plane as they head in my direction, and before long, Cecilia’s gotten up into my lap and curled up against me. She’s holding my hand in hers, separating the fingers, pressing her palm against mine. She’s blissfully unaware that I’m practically a murderer again.

“Daddy? Dinner’s ready. We’re having steaks. Are you coming?”

“Daddy’s not feeling well.” I try to be vague, but she’s making it hard. I feel her mind trying to probe into mine, though she isn’t doing a very good job yet.

“Because you didn’t eat today. Come on. Mommy made steaks.” She insistently tugs me up off of the seat and out of the plane. There’s no arrow pointed at my face, so Wanda must have lived. In fact, there’s nothing but the noise of the crickets as the sun’s going down.

“I’m coming, Cece. I’m coming. I’ll get you some chocolate milk, too.” I pick her up and put her on my shoulders and she giggles with delight when I carry her inside.

The difference between a training exercise and a mission is that on a mission, you have parameters. You’re expected to carry out objectives and reach a goal. In a training exercise, you’re still learning. This never stopped being a training exercise, because I learned that even after the worst has happened, there’s still a little light waiting for you if you know where to look for it.

Cough syrup

Fri, 16 Mar 2012 00:03:50 -0400

“You’ve got to drink it, Zan.”

Zander hacked and coughed stubbornly and shook his head at his mother, who held the spoonful of bitter tasting cough syrup out for him to drink. He’d been like this for hours now, hardly able to breathe for coughing so much, and Mia knew that his chest and throat had to ache with as awful as he sounded.

“Zander Oliver Roy Zatara, if you do not take this medicine right this second, I will… I will never love you again.” Ha. There. That had to work, right?

Zander still shook his head and rolled away from his mother. Mia dumped the spoonful of syrup back into the container. She slammed the bottle and spoon onto the night table beside her son and went to go cool off outside, not wanting to yell at him. It wasn’t his fault that he was sick; those stupid kids at his elementary school had passed on the bug. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that he was so stubborn.

Mia missed seeing Zander give himself the proper dosage of medication. He knew that if she got too close, she could get sick, too, and that was the last thing he wanted in the whole wide world.

They were kids that I once knew

Thu, 15 Mar 2012 23:52:36 -0400

“What are you looking at, Sarah?”

I had been so lost in reading over my book that I hadn’t heard the King come in, and didn’t know that he was there until his breath was hot on my neck. Instinctively, I snap the journal shut so that he can’t see, but I know that it’s a mistake; he owns everything here. This place is his kingdom, and even I belong to him. Now that his curiosity’s been piqued, he reaches over and takes the leatherbound journal—his gift to me, some time ago—and opens it up to the page that my ribbon was marking.

“Kathryn Worthington. Alexander Summers-Frost. Jeremie LeBeau. Akane Ichiki. What is this, Sarah, darling, a hit list of some kind? You’re not planning things without me, are you?”

“No.” I reach up and take the journal back. “They were kids that I once knew.”

“I thought you didn’t have any children your age to play with in that hell hole.” He reaches forward so that his fingertips just barely touch my neck. I think for a moment that he may try to strangle me, but instead, he just pulls my hair back over my shoulders so that it lays flat and smooth.

“I didn’t. They came to visit from the future once or twice. It was… a dream. I never even knew if they came to exist.”

“Because you made the choice to be my Queen.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, your majesty.” I say flatly, and he’s pleased. He kisses my cheek and slinks away, leaving me with my journal.

I do not know what I thought this life would be like as a child. Though I am constantly living in luxury and I have unimaginable power over things I couldn’t begin to know, I am a prisoner of my own naive choice here. I have given up friendship and what could have been a lovely family to be a Black Queen, instead.

If only I had known that it would mean being chained to my throne.

Live through this and you won't look back

Thu, 15 Mar 2012 21:52:43 -0400

“We’re not going to make it, are we?”

It was a training mission gone completely awry. They were meant to only spend a week in the Savage Land, learning how to survive in extreme situations, but the plane had crashed in the wrong part of Antarctica, and the only ones that survived were the ones who didn’t know how to repair the jet.

Flying back wasn’t an option for Takehiko, Akane, or Sofie; the cold was too much of a shock to Sofie’s system, and even if Takehiko and Akane were the grandchildren of Gladiator, they were still only half-Strontian; they were much more vulnerable to fatigue and the elements.

Takehiko carried Sofie on his back while Akane tried to use her eye beams to carve a path through the snow to the Savage Lands, where they’d at least be warm. They’d pried the gear off of the random other graduates that were supposed to have made it with them, but it wasn’t doing enough; the shock of the crash had sent their friend’s healing factor into a spin, and now she was ill with the cold and the adamantium.

“Shut up. Of course we’re going to make it.” Takehiko practically barked at Sofie. “There’s a second plane coming with the rest of the students and teachers. We will be fine.”

“Takehiko’s right, for once. The only thing we can do is to live through this and not look back on our moments of weakness. Besides, you said you wanted to hunt dinosaurs. You can’t hunt dinosaurs if you’re dead.”

Sunsets

Wed, 14 Mar 2012 19:31:19 -0400

“So you think that the sun’s about to set on your life, is that it? I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen.”

Mia wasn’t too weak to choke out a laugh. This kid; he was insane, whoever he was. This alternate whoever or whatever. She didn’t know anymore. She didn’t have to know anything now, except for the needles in her arm and the thin, starchy hospital gown and that her head felt cool against the pathetic excuse for a pillow.

Zander took off his glove and put his hand on Mia’s forehead. His hand was cold and it felt nice, and soothing. It wasn’t very calloused like Ollie’s hands, abused a thousand times over from his archery and his heroics. It was smooth. He’d had a privileged life.

“And who do you think you are, calling the shots?” She choked; she could feel the vomit creeping up in the back of her throat and wanted to push him away. Instead, he helped her to sit up and lean over so that she could purge the bile from her system. He rubbed her back and didn’t flinch away for a second, even when some of it splattered onto his neatly pressed pants.

He laid her back against her pillow and helped her to sip on some water, and he made eye contact with her directly. It was weird, looking into eyes that were exactly like hers.

“I’m your son. From the future, obviously. My name is Zander Oliver Roy Zatara. You don’t die here because you live to give birth to me. Do you understand?”

The entire room fell silent for several long seconds, but she forced a laugh again.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard all day. What are you gonna do about it if you’re right? Make a deal with the devil to keep me alive?”

“Something like that, yes.” Zander pulled his glove back on and smiled an almost sad little smile. He kissed her cheek and put his hand over her eyes.

“Peels.” he ordered in that ethereal voice. She felt magically inclined to obey; her eyelids were so heavy, and she was so weak, and tired. Sleep came to her easily enough that she did not fully hear him afterward.

“You have many more sunsets to come, Mother. So rest easy. I’ll take care of you, now.”

I'll write you a postcard

Wed, 14 Mar 2012 18:06:58 -0400

“You can’t do this!”

Laura felt her claws break through her skin before she realized that she’d tensed the muscles she needed for that to happen. She and Julian were both tense, standing beside James while he held his niece close to his chest. He was taking her away, and it wasn’t safe, and they couldn’t go to monitor anything or to check for Kimura or any other threats that could torture the poor girl.

“Would you relax, you two?!” James rolled his eyes and adjusted Sofie in his arms. “I’m not kidnapping her, I’m taking her to Los Angeles for a while so you can work on your exams. You know, those important tests you have to take? Rachel’s coming later in the week too, so she’ll be fine. We’ll write you a postcard or something so you know we survived the flight.”

“I don’t need a fancy wedding dress.” Rachel insisted from the very start. Yes,...

Wed, 14 Mar 2012 11:39:24 -0400

“I don’t need a fancy wedding dress.” Rachel insisted from the very start. Yes, James was rich and could afford to give her anything—hell, she was vaguely sure that her engagement ring cost more than that classic car that Julian had—but she didn’t want a gigantic ceremony with all of the bells and whistles.

“Is it wrong that I’m glad his mother isn’t alive, Rogue? I can just imagine she’d be one of those super controlling mother in laws who would have tried to dominate every detail of the wedding…” Rachel flipped through a bridal magazine for ideas because, damnit, she was an X-Man! She’d saved the world and the universe beyond, survived at least two realities! Planning her own wedding wouldn’t be so hard.

“Sugah, yah didn’t even know what that was until ya started readin’ those.”

“It sounds awful, though. I don’t even know if I want any of this extra stuff; a flower girl, bridesmaids-“

“Now, hold up, honey! Even a small weddin’ has all o’ that!” Rogue scooped Oli up off of the floor. “Sides, y’all got a champion ring bearer right here!”

“Mama, I don’t wanna be the ring bearer again, can’t Brian do it? I just want cake!”

“Baby, Brian can’t even walk yet. Maybe Jeremie…”

Rachel couldn’t help but laugh.

“It sounds like you’re trying to plan it for me, too! Can’t I choose my own things?”

“Ah’m sorry, sug’.” Rogue smiled a little bashfully, trying to hide her embarrassment while wiping pudding off of her son’s face at the same time. “Ah can’t help it, ain’t too often we get a weddin’ around here and everyone’s excited.”

“No such thing as a small wedding with the X-Men as your family, huh?”

“Got that raght, honey. An’ don’t worry ‘bout your daddy; Ah’ll get him ta walk you down th’ aisle even if Ah have to drag ‘im all th’ way from that island by his toes.”

“I appreciate the offer, but he’s already agreed to come without a fight.” Rachel tossed one magazine aside and went to grab for the next, only to find that her pile had run out. “Why is this so hard? I can’t find a dress that I like!”

“If memory serves, an’ it does that pretty well, Jean got her dress custom designed by Nicole Miller. Lemme lay th’ idea out here… yah’ve got an unlimited weddin’ budget. Even if the rest of it ain’t like it came outta a royal weddin’, even if it’s just here at the school, an’ even if the cake ain’t all that? You owe it to yahself to get a dress done just for you!”

“Maybe you’re right… But then I’d have to get bridesmaid dresses custom designed, too.” She crossed her arms and looked at Rogue, who whistled innocently.

“Now, where’d ya get that idea, sug? That’s just plain crazy…”

Rachel shook her head and sipped her lemonade while Oli ran off to go play with the other kids. She knew that in the end, she’d give in, and maybe even ask Emma about some designers that wouldn’t blow James’ seemingly endless budget (as if she knew any of those). But really, it didn’t matter to her all that much, the show and the dress and even the cake. What mattered was that she was getting to celebrate spending the rest of her life with someone she cared about deeply, without anything attacking them or threatening their existence or their happiness.

At least, not yet.

I was trying to remember your name

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 23:22:46 -0400

The accident hadn’t been that bad, Rachel had been told. It could have been so much worse. Her daughters had been completely unscathed because of her husband’s quick thinking with a telekinetic shield, and he had taken most of the damage himself when the vehicle had rolled over right into oncoming traffic and gotten hit by a large truck. After hours of surgeries they’d determined that he’d live, that he wouldn’t be paralyzed, that in a few days, he could go home to recover.

Rachel first visited James in the hospital on her own, leaving Jeannette and Talia with their Uncle Julian for a few hours so that she could have some privacy. He looked awful, and hadn’t woken up yet, but the doctors had all said he’d be okay, so she didn’t doubt it.

She hugged him carefully and kissed his cheek, and the second his eyes fluttered open, she told him how worried she’d been, and how grateful she was that he’d saved the girls, and how she couldn’t wait to have him home. Rachel went on for some time before he managed to mutter an “Um.”

“Yes, James?”

“I’m sorry, I just- … You’ve been going on for a while now and I was trying to remember your name. Do I know you?”

Revolution

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 22:54:23 -0400

It was a children’s revolution and none of them even knew that it was going on.

They all left for their own reasons, their own distrusts in the systems that they had been raised in. Twins escaping their throne after the death of their mother, believing their father to have done nothing. Brothers stealing their sister away from one world of sin that they could not combat into another that they aimed to control. A girl who craved the very thing she pushed away from. They were all unknowing soldiers in a war that they had no idea how to fight.

They found each other, like a pack of wild cats in the streets. They shared food and stories and blankets and sometimes drugs and drinks if they could afford to steal such things. They watched out for each other and protected each other and never knew any of the connections that they had.

They even died together in their crusade, because that was the real victory; they found their freedom from the things that they were running from. In the end, only one twin returned home to his father’s Empire, and the little sister carried their sad swan songs back to the families that they’d forgotten they’d had.

It was just like their generations to become soldiers of misfortune as the ones before them had been.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 22:41:29 -0400

“I promise you, he’ll still love you.”

Kitty brushed Hisako’s hair out for her while her former Paladin got her makeup dabbed on by Celeste Cuckoo, who knew just what shade of lipstick would match the flowers in her bouquet. She’d opted for a Western wedding instead of either a Shi’ar ceremony or a Japanese one, and while there had been curious questions from both paternal parties, the one that she was really worried about was Kubark, who had loudly proclaimed that he had never seen a ‘wedding dress’ and could care less about it.

“And he’ll still think you’re beautiful,” Celeste said after Kitty, obviously proud of her make-up work and moving to take over on the hair. “Especially after I’m done with you.”

“But this is all really new to him, and I don’t think he’ll really-“

“Hisako, look at me.” Kitty grabbed Hisako’s shoulders and smiled at her, a warm, sisterly smile. “Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, right? Trust me, you could be out there in a paper bag and he’d think you were gorgeous.”

(just assume these are for whoever you feel like writing for!!) Picnic

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 22:12:49 -0400

Takehiko’s expression had twisted into what seemed like it would be a permanent sneer. He was a prince of the Shi’ar Empire, son of Kubark, grandson of the esteemed Gladiator, and here he was, reduced to fanning off his sister and her pathetic human-mutate friend while they ate lunch on cloth on the dirt. Stupid Earth dirt, above all else! And they weren’t even sharing, and the food didn’t even look good!

“Wipe that look off of your face, Takehiko. You’ll never get a girlfriend that way.” Akane practically sang while she pulled a tiny little sandwich out from the wicker basket. Such a stupid, tiny thing. It couldn’t satiate anyone’s hunger.

Her stupid friend had gone through five of them already, and was starting on some rolled spongy thing that they called a strawberry cream cake but did not look like strawberry, cream, or a cake. Cakes were to be set on fire. There was no fire to this.

“Akane, this stuff is great. Your mom needs to pack us picnics more often.” Sofie trilled cheerfully. “It all looks so cute, too!”

“There’s pride in presentation she says. Making it look good is half of the culinary experience. I think that she read too many of those comics back when she was our age.” Akane shrugged, helping herself to a generous slice of the ‘cake,’ too.

Takehiko continued to scowl and glare and fan them off as they ate in their stupid soft colored clothing that served no combat purpose. He had lost the battle against his sister and this was his punishment, but he would get his revenge. He swore to it.

The first gallery opening she went to after going into labor was only a scarce three weeks after her...

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 21:26:40 -0400

The first gallery opening she went to after going into labor was only a scarce three weeks after her son was born. Lisa felt bad, both emotionally and physically, but Tommy had urged her to go, saying that he’d be fine there with the baby in their loft apartment in Los Angeles, that she’d leased for a year with the intentions to live in it alone. That obviously had to change when Tommy had found her out just as she started to show through her t-shirts.

He could string millions of thoughts together in the time it took someone to think one. It didn’t take him long to figure out that he was going to be a father. It had been a long several weeks of talking (she wanted to give it up, he wanted to try fatherhood and being a family) but before she hit her third trimester, the ultrasounds had been done and he’d painted a room pastel blue and started building furniture. She couldn’t say no to him.

They went on awkward dates with her in dresses that showed off too much when they shouldn’t have, and he tried to dance with her with her stomach wedged between them. He hid her toxic paints from her before long and their ‘dates’ were mostly at home, when he’d cook her things and let her lay all over him while they watched movies.

Going into labor had been hard, and it had hurt, but he’d been there with her through the entire thing; he’d promised her that he’d run her wherever she wanted to go, and he kissed her all over her face, and he told her that he loved her and he loved their son that he was about to meet and that he couldn’t be happier.

Lisa believed him this time.

She was weak after little Miles was born, for a day or two, at least. Between Tommy and the doctors, she barely even got to hold her little boy, whose hair was white straight out of the womb and his eyes were dark and curious. They lightened up quickly, though, and she had two white-haired, green eyed boys to fill up her life.

The gallery opening wasn’t a lot for her; just some of her paintings on display to a room full of critics she didn’t care about, with plenty of wine. She left early and hurried home, taking off her heels in the elevator on her way up to see how Tommy was handling Miles by himself for the first time.

Lisa was pleasantly surprised to see that Tommy and Miles were asleep together on the couch, her little baby in a green onesie (just like Daddy’s costume, Billy had teased) and Tommy in his pajamas, with his finger trapped in his son’s little red fist. They were perfect together, and in her state of heightened emotion that hadn’t worn off just yet, Lisa felt the urge to cry bubbling up.

Instead, she just took a picture to keep, and maybe show off to ‘Uncle Billy’ and ‘Grandma’ so that Tommy could be embarrassed later.

Snap

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 13:00:32 -0400

It broke Lisa’s heart to admit it, but Tommy was a great father. She’d come by while Kate was doing some charity work and she saw how effortlessly he put his twins down for a nap before cradling his littlest daughter close to his chest and touching the tip of his nose to hers, with this look of blissful adoration in his eyes that she couldn’t recapture in any medium.

He was so slow and gentle with little Rebecca, and it wasn’t too hard to imagine him with the son of theirs that she gave up before she could even hold. Tommy would’ve pushed him on swings and caught him at the end of slides and loved him with every bit of his heart because that’s just what Tommy did. He loved with every bit of himself because his heart raced too fast for him to do anything less.

“You’ve always liked littler kids, huh, Snowball?” Lisa didn’t know when Tommy, the teenager, the Young Avenger with a heart of gold and a few bad habits, became Tom, the Avenger and husband and father, but she couldn’t ever get used to calling him that, so she stuck with her old nickname. His hair was still white, so it fit.

As she expected, his eyes sparkled when he smiled at her.

“Yeah. And now I love them more because they’re mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.” He tickled Rebecca just barely and she squealed with little infant giggles that made her quiver enough for her brown baby curls to bounce and sway on her head. Her cheeks went rosy and she grasped at her daddy’s long fingers.

It made Lisa’s heart hurt. He would have done just the same with that boy. She snapped her hairtie around her wrist to stop herself from thinking about him. He wasn’t her son now. He had been adopted straight away. They’d ship him off if a mutation showed up and he’d go to that island or that school and she’d never ever know, and it was easier that way.Snap.

“Yep. They’re cute. Your twins are a little much, though…”

“Only around each other. Wanda’s quiet on her own… Peter’s trouble, though.”

“Four would be hard for you, huh?”Snap.

Tom gave her a quizzical look, and the whole room went quiet except for Rebecca’s coos.

He recovered quickly, though, and looked down at his daughter with that stupidly perfect smile.

“That’s why I’ve only got three. Kate would kill me if I wanted more. By the way, you never told me how your ten month thing in Milan went…”

Snap.

“Ah, maybe another time, okay?” Lisa pulled out her phone and looked at the time. “I’ve got to go talk to this gallery owner over lunch.” She lied.

“Oh. Next time, then.” Tommy bent over and gave Lisa a friendly kiss on the cheek. Of course it was nothing to him; he was finally married and happy with three kids he did know about and the one she hoped he’d never, ever meet. She only nodded and hurried out before he said or did anything else.

Wolverine, Gambit, Iceman and Hellion on a fishing trip. :)

Mon, 12 Mar 2012 10:49:15 -0400

This was, without a doubt, one of the most humiliating and horrifying experiences that Julian had ever had in his life. He kept his back to the other three men in the fishing boat (probably not the best choice, but at least he could dive out a little more easily if he had to), while they each talked about different non-powered methods of fishing.

Iceman’s ice fishing idea was shot down very quickly (“It’s too damn hot out here fo’ dat,” Gambit had argued), as was Gambit’s method of using dynamite to stun the fish and scoop them up with a net (“Ain’t that illegal, bub?” Wolverine had queried. Gambit, strangely enough, had only laughed in reply), and no one but Logan could use his own method (“We can’t all stand in the water and catch them with our bare hands,” Iceman had huffed).

Julian felt dumb, sitting there with a fishing pole that his brother had given him for the purpose of this trip. This was part of the ‘alternative punishment’ program, he was sure of it, and he was beginning to miss detention with Quire.

While he glared at his reflection in the murky water, thinking of the crystal clear waters of the pool that he swam in as a child, the surface of the water broke and rippled as his line snapped taut.

“Uh, I think I’ve got something,” he tried to get the attention of the three grown men, who were still arguing over their methods, and didn’t pay him any attention. Julian rolled his eyes and tugged it in himself, reeling it in like he’d seen in movies. Pushing one foot against the edge of the boat to steady himself, he managed to pull a gigantic catfish out of the water. It landed on the deck with a wet flop, and it slapped around pathetically as it suffocated.

The three men stared at Julian, who quickly grew smug, leaning his fishing pole against his shoulder. He grinned at them and hovered over his gigantic catch.

“What’s that about dynamite, ice fishing, and catching it with your bare hands?”

In the time it took for him to snark, Gambit reached over and knocked him off balance, sending Julian toppling over into the muddy water.

“What was dat ‘bout swimmin’ home by yo’self?” He laughed, and Bobby and Logan laughed, too. Bobby helped Julian back into the boat and Remy handed him a towel and a beer, since there was no one around in the Louisiana muck that they’d chosen to fish in to get him for underage drinking.

He’d earned it, they figured.

Her stepladder is covered in dust. It sits beside the washing machine, where she would use it to...

Sun, 11 Mar 2012 23:11:04 -0400

Her stepladder is covered in dust. It sits beside the washing machine, where she would use it to select the cycle that she needed for her clothes or her bedsheets, which she would fold and replace on her own.

She did mostly everything on her own, from laundry to pet care to microwaving things if she got hungry. She washed and dried her own dishes, and put them away without help from any grown person.

At night, she showered without help and put herself to bed without so much as a bedtime story or a good night kiss. There was no night light to ward the bad dreams away, and only the one lone teddy bear to watch over her as she slept. Now, she does none of that. She still sleeps in a world of no night lights and no bed time stories, and of no grown up help. She wilts under her own fever and knows that once it passes, she will be sucked into the mundane again.

Somewhere, a bell rings. Class is beginning. The brightly lit medical bay will be quiet for hours now, so she pretends that everyone has classes for funny things, like standing on your head and blowing gigantic bubbles. And when the classes let out, she’ll have help with the washing machine and a bubble bath and a bedtime story with a good night kiss.

The sound of the sparring that’s going on is unmistakable; large, booming cracks that make the...

Sun, 11 Mar 2012 21:16:03 -0400

The sound of the sparring that’s going on is unmistakable; large, booming cracks that make the leaves quiver on trees without any wind. There is so much force behind each hit that to those who are unaware it may seem like the very fabric of being is being torn asunder with each blow being dealt.

For everyone else, it is simply a sunny June afternoon in Westchester. Students swim around in the pool, completely conditioned to the thundering sounds with no sign of a storm in sight. The Headmaster strolls leisurely throughout the grounds, watching Frisbees being thrown, baseballs being hit, and even the cheerleading squad established years ago is hard at practice; the new head cheerleader is not lacking in the same verve that Cessily had, but she is much less shiny.

“Take cover!” Someone shouts, and all heads duck low just in time; with a sonic boom and a green streak of light, Sofie flies over the grounds. Not even a full second later, her pursuers follow in their superpowered game of tag, each of them separating and attempting to outrace her and cut her off. They gain altitude again, and the students return to their activities. Only a couple of them try to watch as their three classmates disappear into the bright blue sky.

Akane takes the left and speeds ahead of her brother on the right; she’s got the slight advantage of speed over him, where he’s got more muscle and strength. With Sofie, who is lighter than both of them, speed is what she needs to win this game. She draws herself flatter against the air currents and ducks her head slightly, and it gives her a boost that lets her right within the range needed to fire her eye beams straight at Sofie’s ankle.

She knows the second that she fires that they won’t hit; Sofie’s power is based in thought and she thinks very powerful, very rapid thoughts. The beams hit against a green telekinetic shield, which warps around them and re-directs them, funneling them straight at Takehiko. They smack her brother’s shoulders and back, and he almost plummets to the earth. He catches himself, though; even if he’s not the better flier of the two, he’s always had a quick recovery.

“Akane, what the hell?!” he swears in that booming voice of his. Akane doesn’t have time to yell back at him before he takes a telekinetic blast that sends him back out of balance and spiraling to the ground. Akane dives back down to save her brother, but stops short when she sees that he uses their mother’s power to shield him as he slams into the ground; he’s armored up.

Good. That gives her another chance. Now that her brother’s safety has been confirmed, she rockets back into the air and flies not straight at Sofie this time, but around her; Akane gains a lead on the telekinetic girl and hovers just above her flight path. Sofie does not think to stop, and it is that mistake that costs her as the half-Strontian princess grabs her friend’s ponytail.

She swings Sofie not once, not twice, but three times before throwing her into the ground near where Takehiko fell. She hears her human bones snapping and breaking as she bounces and skids along the ground, and can smell the blood. This is why she and Takehiko can provide such a fair fight against her; they, too, can heal as quickly, smell as accurately, and hear as well as she can.

Akane touches down beside her brother as he approaches their mutant classmate. Already her bones are snapping back into place and healing, though she’s still covered in blood and sweat. By the time they stand over her, she’s pinching her nose back into place to ensure that it heals straight.

“Best two out of three?” Sofie winces, and spits a mouthful of blood onto the grass. Takehiko, still armored up, exchanges a glance with his sister, and extends a hand to her.

They all laugh, perhaps because they know that the game is nowhere near close to being over.

Sofie and Batgirl!

Fri, 09 Mar 2012 21:01:00 -0500

Soaring through the air on a grapple doesn’t scare the little girl at all, and Batgirl is impressed by her bravery. She knows to let her own weight carry her, and not to rely fully on the reinforced cable that holds her. She knows to swing with her legs and to twist her hips to adjust the angle at which she moves. Maybe the X-Men train their kids to do this, or maybe she’s just a natural, but either way, Stephanie smiles.

She’s exactly the type of kid that needs to stay out of Gotham for her own good; the one with lots of talent that can be easily manipulated into any cause. Stephanie can see her in a lot of places when she’s older; standing beside the Red Hood or wearing the proud red and green and gold of a Robin, or with an X on her chest. She can see her in more sinister places too, but she tries not to. It’s too soon for that.

Right now, she’s just a little girl with Disney Princess velcro shoes and her hair up in a ribbon. She’s just Sofie, who was able to pick up that she was Batgirl from the scent of her lies and who was able to bring down Damian Wayne at the cost of a little bit of her humanity.

Steph helps Sofie climb up onto one of the gargoyles that’s become her favorite; she can see a lot of the shopping district from there, the different boutiques whose windows are full of gorgeous dresses that her college-kid budget weeps at but her fancy-filled mind imagines her twirling in. It is the district of the rich who have somehow capitalized on Gotham’s number one industry of crime, or who have somehow made it a vacation destination and have bought suites here to stay in during the safer daytime hours.

Sofie’s eyes are immediately drawn up to the top suite of the most exclusive penthouse building in the entire district. Stephanie can see the lights reflected in her green irises.

“What’s up there?”

“We lived there for a while. Me and Laura and Julian.”

“Oh, yeah. Your dad’s rich, isn’t he?”

Sofie purses her lips together like she’s keeping something sharp from flying off of her tongue. Eventually, she nods, and says

“Yes, Julian is wealthy.” And that is that, no more on the topic.

“You know why I brought you here, right, Sofie?”

“To apologize to your assassin brat.”

Stephanie tries not to snort into her mask, but it’s hard. Only a brief interaction with him and already she had him pegged! An assassin brat.

“Yep, you’ve got it. Now, could you please try to pretend to be sorry? Even if you don’t really mean it?”

She wrinkles her nose as she pouts, but eventually, she acquiesces.

“Fine,” she huffs. “But only because you promised me ice cream!” Sofie takes her borrowed grappling gun and fires it off to the next stable point, and leaps off of the gargoyle before Batgirl has a chance to follow.

“Sofie, you’re going the wrong way!”

Her pink galoshes leave small impressions in the mud. They’ve left a trail from the concrete...

Thu, 08 Mar 2012 09:49:53 -0500

Her pink galoshes leave small impressions in the mud. They’ve left a trail from the concrete patio straight to where she stands in the garden, at the edge of a slightly flooded pond. She has to keep tilting her polka dotted umbrella up away from her face so that she may see the muddy ducklings swim in a clumsy line after their mother.

Sofie is entranced by these fragile little creatures, and how they know just where to go and what to do. She kneels down to watch the baby ducks blink raindrops from their eyes and wade into a neater formation. Two of them quack at each other, and she smiles for the first time in weeks.

Her vinyl raincoat crinkles loudly when she stands back up. She moves quickly to the other edge of the pond so that she may watch them. Her umbrella bobs back and forth as she moves, and the mud squelches noisily under her boots.

“Springtime has always been generally viewed as a time of growth, and rebirth, and healing,” Dr. McCoy narrates to his biology class, inside the building. The students are drowsy and fighting to stay awake, and the heavy gray clouds do nothing to help them. Half of his class is asleep at their desks. Laura keeps glancing out at the little pink shape in the rain, perhaps ready to leap through the second story window at the first sign of danger.

“There are many things that this season can teach us. This is a view I’ve always had. Surprisingly, it is a view that our esteemed headmaster carries.” Dr. McCoy continues on, undeterred by the lack of active response. Julian has begun to nod off beside Laura, so she steps on his foot to wake him up.

“Which is why I am pleased to report to all of you that he is considering planning a camping trip for all of you! Doesn’t that sound enriching?”

Their heads all snap up at that, and no one is watching to see Sofie smuggle a fluffy duckling into the school, wrapped in the warmth of her pink rain coat.