[Reviews - 14]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story |
Printer Chapter or Story |
ePub eBook Chapter or Story |

Has been viewed 946 times

- Text Size +




Power and the Powerful

The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble that can gather strength from distress and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.
~Thomas Paine

XX
X
XX

Logan stood outside long after both Ororo and Gambit had gone inside; his cigar had since burned out almost burning his fingers. He could hear the words repeating themselves in his head; the entire conversation was on replay. Had he felt better he may have realized the irony of his forgetting what he truly wanted to remember and being unable to get this one conversation out of his head.

“Wolverine?” Jean’s voice filtered over the grounds and Logan growled lightly, the last thing he wanted at that moment was to hear her cry out her problems with her precious boyfriend, the fucking that came after tended to be somewhat satisfying but he was beginning to wonder if it was truly worth the hassle. He pushed himself further into the shadows making sure his mental blocks where fully stable his stealth aiding him once again.

He slipped in through the back door and headed full speed and silently for the danger room, the simulation room had quickly become his safe haven, nobody else ever ventured into it at night and he found it a quiet place to rest and recuperate by killing different versions of his enemies. The hydraulic doors sifted open and Logan ducked narrowly avoiding a gun firing at his head, he dove in rolling and stopping crouched lightly his booted feet making nary a sound. The man who had shot at him was pulled back by a glowing hand and two beady red eyes to match, Logan spotted another man coming up behind Gambit and pure adrenaline guided him to the branch that he sent flying into the other mans’ jugular.

“What is you doing here?” Remy growled.

“Down!” Logan shouted pulling the Cajun man down avoiding a spray of fire from an automatic, “Simulation terminate,” he commanded his booming voice reaching the computer even over the spray of gunfire.

“Why did you do dat,” Remy dusted himself off making no move to help Logan from the floor.

“Cuz I was gettin shot at Cajun,” Logan growled pulling himself from the ground.

“If Remy is right dat would not affect you much,” the smaller man stared Logan down angrily.

“Whatsa matter swamp rat, I bust up yer show,” Logan smirked leaning against one side of the large room.

“Out!” Remy commanded his voice soft.

“Aw what, ya gonna throw some cards at me,” Logan smirked tossing one of Remy’s discarded playing cards toward him.

“Dat sounds like a good idea,” he grabbed the card out of midair and tossed it back at Logan who only narrowly avoided it.

“Now see here Cajun,” he began but was forced to duck again as three cards came hurtling toward him.

“Ya don't want me ta hurt ya,” Logan commented from his crouched position. His eyes remained on the younger man’s chest his knowledge of combat telling him that in all but the very best fighter’s movement in that region would betray their next move. Unfortunately for Logan Remy was one of the best, only a quick tumble that probably hurt more then the blow would have stopped Remy’s foot from slamming into his head.

“Yer good,” Logan immediately jumped to his feet and assumed a fighting stance, “I’m better.”

XX
X
XX

All this was accomplished with a subtlety so perfect, that the minister, though he had constantly a dim perception of some evil influence watching over him, could never gain a knowledge of its actual nature. True, he looked doubtfully, fearfully”even, at times, with horror and the bitterness of hatred”at the deformed figure of the old physician. His gestures, his gait, his grizzled beard, his slightest and most indifferent acts, the very fashion of his garments, were odious in the clergyman’s sight; a token implicitly to be relied on of a deeper antipathy in the breast of the latter than he was willing to acknowledge to himself. For, as it was impossible to assign a reason for such distrust and abhorrence, so Mr. Dimmesdale, conscious that the poison of one morbid spot was infecting his heart’s entire substance, attributed all his presentiments to no other cause.

XX

Ororo looked up quickly from her book; she sat curled in her large feather bed in a pair of light blue silk pajama pants and a light blue camisole. She stuck a bookmark into her place tossing the book down onto the bed as she rose, the glaring name Nathaniel Hawthorne glared up at her in golden letters. The large letter A rested above that and below the title. The Scarlet Letter was one of her favorite books of all time, the troubles of Hester Prin where quite intriguing and her intelligent mind quickly devoured the tale at the frail age of eleven. She padded silently toward the bedroom door taking extra care to bring along her lock pit kit and to close the door silently. She couldn't say for sure what rose her from her comfortable position but that feeling of wrongness clung to every inch of her mind.

A few close calls with Jean Grey and with her instincts guiding her she soon arrived at the door to the danger room, she punched in her code and listened to the light beep as the computer analyzed it, the door opening put her on full alert and good thing for the sight that greeted her was anything but good. Black circular patterns decorated the ground obviously from explosions, thrown in for a bit of color where large spots of blood, she looked up shocked to find Remy and Logan facing off. His shirt and most of his jeans burned off due to explosions caused Ororo a temporary start but the healing chest she was privy to see when he turned his black eyes following Remy’s glowing red ones brought her back into focus.

“Enough!” she shouted her command punctuated by a rumble of thunder, both men looked at her Remy hanging his head shamefully but Logan meeting her gaze steadily and without fear or reservation. “You are acting like children” she spoke pleased to hear how icy cold her voice was, “And worse, without the fail safes you could have been killed.”

“Ororo is very right,” Charles came up beside the furious weather witch; she looked down at him her eyes loosing their cloudy appearance.

“The forecast called for a warm beautiful night,” he said telling her easily what had brought him.

“Sorry,” her eyes clouded again destroying the storm raging outside the windows.

“What the hell’s going on,” Scott came to the door of the danger room his shaded eyes doing nothing to hide his fury.

“Fuck off Scooter,” Logan growled and Remy was unable to suppress a chuckle at that, a cursory glance revealed only cuts along his chest, rather shallow due to his quick and agile movements but Ororo knew her friend would be sore in the morning.

“Fighting is not allowed,” Scott yelled, Ororo simply raised her eyes waiting for a response.

“I’m goin to bed,” Logan brushed past Scott shoving him into a wall, “Comin darlin,” Logan grinned, her steely glare did nothing to dissuade him as he left the room, he was surprised however to sense her following him closely until he got to the elevator where she opted to take the stairs.

XX
X
XX

By six o’clock the entire mansion was awake. By six fifteen they all knew the cause of the thunder the previous night. Various theories where flying about their new teacher. Some feared the white haired woman; other’s revered her as a goddess. Some simply took her in stride as their own mutations where quite extreme. Ororo’s first class however was seated quietly in their desks before she even arrived.

“Remy I don't want to talk about it,” they heard their teachers voice carrying lightly down the hall.

“Padnat-” the Cajun man was cut off by the door of the classroom closing in his face. Ororo turned around and almost jumped out of her skin seeing the curious faces pointed in her direction.

“Right, did the bell ring?” she checked her wristwatch with a furrowed brow.

“No, where just on time,” Kitty Pryde who had told everyone about the sentinel attack and was hailed for it spoke up.

“Alright then, my name is Ororo Munroe, you all can just call me Ororo or Storm,” she smiled moving to her desk. The classroom she had been given was exactly what Xavier knew she would have wanted. No actual walls simply glass was the boarder, the glass was also set up to become tinted at varying degrees for different days. Scattered all around the room where various plants and other special items she had brought to the mansion when she moved.

“Um…” Kitty raised her hand tentavley.

“What’s up?” Ororo questioned smiling and perching on the front of the desk her booted feet swinging back and forth.

“Well Mr. Summers says where not supposed to call teachers by their first names,” Kitty smiled sheepishly.

“Well Kitty I’m going to let you in on a big secret,” Ororo smirked at the girl who smiled back the older woman’s grin infectious, “I’m not Scott Summers.”

“Well obviously,” a young man by the name of Jim Steele exclaimed before he could be stopped.

“Thanks… I think,” she laughed and the entire class visibly relaxed. “So where here to talk about… Hamlet, you all finished the book with the substitute?” upon the groups affirmation she pulled out her own copy, “Alright… any objections to just jumping right in?”


Logan watched from outside how she began asking about scenes students didn't understand, when all expressed a lack of understanding of one particular scene involving a banquet she pulled a few students up to act it out.

“She is quite a teacher,” Xavier came up beside him watching Ororo just as closely as she tossed and arm around Jim and threw her head back laughing.

“Yah,” Logan agreed, “Why do you like her so much better then Scooter?” Logan was known for being blunt and this was no exception.

“Logan do you respect Scott?” Xavier asked with a sigh.

“No.”

“Ororo has a gift for being a leader, Logan a very influential man by the name of Clarence Randall once said, “The leader must know, must know that he knows, and must make it abundantly clear to everyone else that he knows” Scott unfortunately does not fit that description,” Xavier looked up at Logan, “Perhaps I put too much pressure on him but I truly believe that Scott does not have the necessary abilities to be a leader of this group.”

“Yer right,” Logan looked down at his boots thinking about the times he had spent with Ororo. She never pushed him or criticized his opinion, her goal with Remy the previous night had been team unity something Scott could not truly understand. He enjoyed pressing Logan’s buttons just for the hell of it and Logan was quite aware that the others on the team only followed him because they believed Xavier had put his full trust in Scott and in betraying him they thought it betraying their true leader. Logan looked up opening his mouth but found Xavier had already left. Logan shrugged and looked back to the classroom his eyes locking with Ororo’s. He gave her a small nod both as a greeting and as an agreement with Xavier; she returned the nod and turned back to her class.





You must login () to review.