EGFrost

WHY AREN'T YOU AWESOMED BY ME?

Wed, 02 May 2007 16:21:09 GMT

Runaways #26 (Spoilers)

This issue may beat out #13 for my favorite Molly issue /ever/. Starting with 'We totally shadowcatted', 'Why aren't you awesomed by me?', utterly /devastating/ the punisher, and the perennial question 'does being a ninja count as Powers?'

A regular plethora of antagonists in this one, too. We have: The Kingpin, The Punisher, a lackey with acess to Stark's R&D department wearing some variant of Tony's Armor, The Mysterious Old Lady (with more hints as to who she is), and Tristan (Giant Sword Guy With Wings). And then, then there are ninjas. A bunch. More than the usual amount of ninjas.

I'm actually quite pleased to see how this issue was written. It's always nice to see the gang get credit for actually being /powerful/, especially the Staff of One, seeing as how it's one of the 'four magical pillars' of the Marvel Universe, and this issue doesn't disapoint. Everyone gets a moment or two of showing off their powers, Xavin in particular as a massive battle erupts for Plot Widget. One of the things I really appreciated, though it took a second read-through to catch it, was how well Joss has the character interactions down. Little things, like how reckless Chase is when he should know better, and how Victor takes Molly more seriously than most of the others do. The tone of their conversations is spot on, and for that reason, it's harder to notice than other aspects of the work. It's a busy issue, but it just feels busy, not overly rushed, probably because of the setup in the previous issue. The ending of course, is a massive surprise to anyone who lives in a hole/doesn't read solicits, but the rest of us expected it. Depending on how long the situation stays that way, it has some definate potential for some amusing and interesting outcomes, not the least of which is the identity of the Mysterious Old Lady.

The art is very good, and I like Michael's Ryan's style for this title, just like last time. My only real art complaint involves the Punisher, with a face that looks a little wierd, but the rest of it is spot on. The covers (25+) continue to be good, and I like the fact that the covers don't give away anything that (so far) Hasn't already been revealed in a previous issue, yet are actually related to the story. Not that I minded, in particular, the previous covers spotlighting individual characters with no real relation to the story, but I much prefer the cover have story relavance.

All things considered, an excellent comic, and one I'm happy to say I'll continue to buy for as long as Joss is writing it.

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 13:54:58 GMT

Title: Totally Vamped

Fandom: The Hollows (After the events of For A Few Demons More)

Characters: Ivy/Rachel

Rating: NC-17, Shadows of D/S (It's about vampires, of course it has D/S!)

The shower is running, hot clouds of steam outlining her body as a shadow, nothing more. She turns, as the door opens and the warm breeze coming from the windows slides into the room alongside me.

"No perfume." She warns, backing up from the shower door, on the defensive already.

"I know." I smile, as I strip off my exercise clothes, throwing them on top of hers, as the wind swirls the twin scents together, myrrh and redwood, hers and mine, vampire and witch. They say moisture makes our sense of smell that much more acute. When she next takes a breath, she's frozen, knowing what those smells mean. Her fear is an aphrodisiac indeed, as I take a deep breath, and push the glass door open. She's always so hard, so self assured, but not now.

"I can't" she manages, her voice already breathy with emotion, fear and lust both.
"Fortunately for us, then, /I/ can." My hand slides along her perfect flesh, pulling her upwards for a kiss. Her mouth is warm and wet and perfect, and her eager, hungry lips and tongue belie the token struggle she puts up. I turn, and slide my tongue along to curl around her ear, my breath hot upon her neck, her unbound scar.

"Oh God…" she gasps, as she feels me playing on it intentionally, sliding down the gentle curve of her neck with my tongue, as I trace around the outline.

"Goddess." I correct her, as I nibble, not quite enough to break the skin, just sharp points to trail across the scar. She moans, managing only two words as I press her harder against the side of the shower. "… your caps…"

"Shh." A whisper in her ear, as one hand gently wraps around her hair, the other sliding down her soapy stomach, pressing up against her, her nipples set against me like burning pebbles. My own bite throbs, not just in my neck, but through my entire body, warm and wet and dark as blood. "We've talked enough." I suckle for a moment on the scar, my fingers teasing at the down around her sex, and then, with plunging teeth and fingers both I make her mine.

Salt and heat and blood and sex fill my senses. She cries out wordlessly, arching against me as my tongue laps at her blood. I yank at her hair, now coiled around my hand to keep her still, and bite down again, grinding up against her slippery thigh. She whimpers for a moment, and then we've found the pace together, throbbing along with the beat of her heart, her pulse, my fingers. I can feel it quicken, even now, her heart beating faster and faster, as I drink her down, my heart and breath and life for this moment, perfectly tied to hers. And then, it peaks, sharp and sweet and beautiful, her heart skips a beat and then she screams my name. My fingers clench as her orgasm triggers mine and we slide down the shower wall together. She's wide eyed and stunned still, as I lean over gently to kiss her, her blood on both our lips now, as we lie, flesh twined around flesh in the bottom of the shower. Words are beyond her, still, but I answer the question in her eyes as my hand strokes gently through her hair.

"Because I love you."

There's a faint zip, and a tiny and familiar voice sounds. "Hey is everything alr … Tink's diaphram, Rachel!"

I flash Jenks a lazy smile, showing just a hint of fang. "Everything is fine." She nods, faintly, as I splash water up at Jenks. "We're not done with the shower yet." I say, leaning in close enough to whisper to her. "I have bite scars too." She shivers as she sits up, her arms tightening around me in an iron grip I know I can't escape.

As Jenks flies away, we can hear him in the other room. "No, it's fine. Rachel just totally vamped Ivy."

I smile at her. "Care to return the favor?"

Little DC Drabble

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 13:48:52 GMT

"What happened?" She could hardly even recognize him, beneath the bruises in the infirmary, his pale cheeks waxen, and drawn, more like a ghost than the well featured man she remembered.

"Batman." he whispered, his voice shaky. "I showed the commissioner some pictures of his daughter that weren't for polite company." He tried to laugh, coughing up blood instead. "Sorry"

"It's not your fault, Mr. Joker."

"Please, Doctor Quinzel, the Joker's a criminal, and I'm trying not to be" He grasped her hand weakly. "With your help."

And he'd smiled at her.

"Oh. Alright," She smiled back, "Mister … Jay."

Runaways! Wheeee!

Fri, 27 Apr 2007 18:13:50 GMT

So I'm finally all caught up on my Runaways purchases, mostly. I now own it all, having just picked up TPBs 6 and 7. And Arrrrgh! The Xavin!Nico/Karolina moment makes me want to hit things, it really does, because I mean I /know better/ than to think that Nico could do ~~the right thing~~ that, but I totally wanted her to, and it would resolve /so much/. Nico/Karolina is rapidly becoming my OTP for this title, and it's hard to explain, because I mean, I like Victor, I really do. But it's just so /obvious/ that Nico and Karolina are like, perfect for each other. And Xavin ... well, I mean, I feel kinda bad for the guy, I do, but it's become increasingly clear that he's /not/ a girl, no matter how he dresses up, and so the whole time that Molly's like "You're totally my sister", and Karolina is like "She's trying to learn to be human" I /understand/ that, but I can't help but feel that the gang, along with the readers are totally being set up for a fall. And it's gonna break Karolina's heart. (especially if he's a dirtbag when he dumps her, which he's totally going to be, but not on purpose). Also, if at all possible, I love Molly even more.

I'm like, exactly the pawn of Marvel Marketing they want, having been browing and seen #25 and going 'hrm, I think I'll pick up this Whedon comic I never heard of', and then buying Saga, and then like, obsessively hunting down the TPBs and like, ripping them out of the hands of children to buy them all. I absolutely adore this series, even if sometimes it makes me want to throw books across the room, because unlike many comics, you actually /care/ about the characters. And it's so much more internally consistent than many comic books, and it's got all kinds of geek humor.

And I totally need Runaways Icons, and I have this little Molly!Muse in my head now that wants me to write Molly/Percy fic, with Wolverine as rewired by Cassandra Nova, because she thinks he's totally cute, and nowhere near as big of a meanie. (And his secondary mutation is so totally the hair). And I want to write Happy!N/K, but every situation I can think of for them right now is sad, and depressing. And I absolutely /cannot/ wait until next Wednesday. Mmmm, Chocolate.

Anyway, silly fannish ranting aside, I am happy to have nearly completed my Runaways collection (still need to complete Runaways/YA crossover) and I also picked up the new Rachel Morgan book in hardcover, so I am a happy, happy person, at the moment.

Ultimate DC: Oracle

Thu, 12 Apr 2007 17:43:29 GMT

So anyway, on this message board I hang out on sometimes, there's a bunch of folks working on an 'Ultimate' DC Universe, and I grabbed Oracle.

In short, 20 year old Barbara Gordon has a PHD in CompSci, and also happens to be one of the scariest hackers around, as Bat_Girl. And this little ficlet sort of popped out of my head.

The Oracle program had predicted he'd be here tonight, following his usual pattern, and Barbara had prepared herself for the rest. She'd casually greet him by name, then reassure him that no one else knew, not even Dad. She'd tell him her secret, tell him how she'd found him, and ask him for a job. She interviewed well. She'd tell him she was going to be 21 in a month or two, and besides, Robin had been younger, when he'd started. She had the entire conversation anticipated, planned for in her mind. Except this.
"No. Go home. Go home to your father, home to your life, home to your computers. Go home, and stop playing at being a hero." With that, he'd left her alone on the rooftop, in the rain. Perhaps if he hadn't been rattled by the fact that a girl like Barbara had been able to find out his secret, he would have spotted the figures lurking in the shadows below the building. Perhaps not. Either way, the figures were waiting for Barbara in the street below.

The Joker broke her back. He broke her legs. He broke her arms, her ribs. And then he really got started in earnest. By the time he was done, he'd broken every bone in her body, some of the big ones more than once. He'd started out asking her for Batman's name, but it was doubtful if she could manage her own name, through the bloody coughing that let her know she had a punctured lung. As he finished with the last of her meta-tarsals, she grinned at him bloodily, her own face a mirror of his lunatic smile.
"What's so funny, babe?" He'd asked, leering as he stood up, leaning over her. "Let me in on the gag, sweetheart."
She was still smiling, when the warehouse's skylights shattered, and Batman fell on the joker like an avenging angel from hell. Afterwords, as the sirens wailed futilely closer, she fought to clear her throat of all the blood to speak. "Didn't … tell him." She managed, after a few moments, as the dark figure tried to shelter her from the rain under that cloak. He held a finger to her lips for a moment. "I know." And then, Barbara Gordon died.

Perils of being a fan

Wed, 21 Mar 2007 03:20:02 GMT

So I just saw a good/bad horror movie. The kind that starts out with a lesbian makeout scene bad. The kind that moves on to a 120 ft giant, acid spitting python with a razored tail bad. The kind that ends with everyone happy (except the dead ones), in a bar they built together bad. The kind of movie that can manage to star Robert Englund AND Jenny McCarthy. Along with a host of other minor characters from sources as diverse as Starship Troopers (the movie), Babylon 5 (the TV show), and Star Trek, the Next Generation. (Wil Wheaton is a major character.)

And I wonder. I mean, to some extent, yes, the suspension of disbelief is vital to a modern cinemaphile, since there are, almost by definition, fewer well known actors than movies out there. But this seems to be a specifically fan conundrum, that of knowing instantly a half a dozen characters from as many fandoms. My mind kept wondering if this was not, perhaps, some well meaning but utterly inept crossover crack fic/deathfic on FF.net. Has anyone else seen a movie (usually made for TV, cheap horror or Sci-Fi) where the character is so typecast, due to your particular fandom interests, or else so hopelessly out of their acting depth, that it immediately made you think 'ZOMG, that's so OOC!'?

Oh, and the movie? Was Horrible. Which was wonderful. The casting just sort of threw me for a loop.

Implicit vs Explicit

Mon, 19 Mar 2007 15:19:20 GMT

Why is today's culture so focused on the explicit, rather than the implicit?
Why must something be exposed and overexposed, rather than hinted at?

Case in point. I'm looking to try to read something ... seductive. The literary equivalent of a cabaret, not a strip club. Does it say something about commercialism today that I can't? That the local library turns up "Letters to Penthouse" (seven volumes. Way to spend taxpayer money!) but nothing that's actually ... seductive?

As far as I can determine, the only place that contains actual seduction in modern literature is the vampire tale. And even some of those fall down. (Laurel K Hamilton, I'm looking at you).

Or maybe I'm just wierd, a relic from an earlier age. After all, how can I be a red blooded american male, if I prefer cheesecake to playboy spreads?

Echoes (5 of 5)

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 16:06:28 GMT

Echoes of the Future (Part 5 of 5)
Betad by: Resolute
Rating: Teen
Timeline: After Breakworld (AXM 13+ spoilers)
Characters: Emma/Kitty, Stepford Cuckoos
Warnings: None

Xavier Institute, Medical, Sunday Morning

Emma wakes first, her mind opening like a flower, for a moment forgetting everything. We slide into her mind. The reforged bond is holding. I feel like I've been run over by a truck. she thinks. Though if I recall the dream correctly, it was a truck full of gorgeous women. She lies back for a moment, with a smile on her face. After a minute or two, though, her muzzy mind snaps back into its normal focus. Or something approximating it. She thinks, sourly. It takes her a great deal more effort than normal to focus. She frowns, but manages, as she sits up. Where am I? Katherine is safe, but sleeping, she knows. She sits up, slowly, as the memory of all that happened last night returns. Scott. Or NotScott, actually. Katherine, the Danger Room, and then here. She looks around, picking up the small bottle of pills and focusing on it. Probably why my shielding is erratic. I do hope I wasn't broadcasting that dream. That could be difficult. She limps off the bed after a moment, deciding she can hide the limp, if she walks slowly enough as she goes over to check on Kitty, who's currently passed out on the keyboard at the desk. Emma reaches out into Kitty's thoughts as she gently picks her head up off the keyboard to lay it on the desk.

Her thoughts plunge far deeper and faster than she intended, as she sees brief flashes of the argument with Pete, the Danger Room, and then, of Emma herself. Perhaps the most surprising of all to her, is that the dream is Kitty's. Who would have thought the girl had such an imagination? Woman, really, Emma amends. She's not thirteen anymore. Emma lets her thumb gently stroke the line of Kitty's jaw, as she looks down at her for moment, holding her head cupped between Emma's hands. Kitty smiles in her sleep, her dream continuing. Emma gently lays Kitty's head down again, after a moment, making her more comfortable on the desk as she leaves.

Xavier Institute, Ethical Constructs Class, Monday Afternoon

The summer sunlight comes in through the windows again, another lazy summer day. "It's good to see you all again, class." Emma says. "Let us review where we left off before you got your unscheduled vacation." The usual groans and complaints follow this announcement, but the class quiets down, and opens their books. Kitty pauses at the door for a moment, then knocks.

"Yes, Miss Pryde?"

"Don't mind me." she says, as she heads for the back of the classroom. "I'm just auditing."

Emma purses her lips for a moment, but says nothing, only turning back to the rest of the class as Kitty finds a chair. "Now then:"

"The best stories work on multiple levels" Emma says. "And the morality tales don't necessarily result in happy endings, but appropriate ones." We are apt pupils, the three in one.

Echoes (4 of 5)

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 16:04:33 GMT

Reverberations (Part 4 of 5)
Betad by: Resolute
Rating: Teen
Timeline: After Breakworld (AXM 13+ spoilers)
Characters: Emma/Kitty
Warnings: Angst, Combat

Xavier Institute, Emma's Room, Late Saturday Night

Emma is not in a good mood. Her business meetings today did /not/ go well. I'd love to fire all those fools and replace them. she thinks. Though I suppose it wasn't reasonable to expect them to have a business case for 'Miss Frost goes to another planet in the middle of the merger'. So, a long day, whose only result was to catch her up with where she ought to have been all along. And now she's come home to our little surprise for her.

It is the soap that gave her the first clue. She walks into the rooms in a hurry, dropping her notes and her clothes on the desk and floor respectively, and sweeps into the shower. She's not really paying attention, I certainly don't expect Scott after last night, she thinks, and everything else can wait until after I've had a shower. His bar of soap is gone when she reaches for it. Two conditioners, and her shampoo. Her body wash, body rinse and sponges. Her essential oils. Where on earth did the silly boy leave his bar of Dial? She's only mildly annoyed, at the moment. It's not that I need it, she thinks but it's nice for getting out the dirt that seems like it has been ground into her skin after a day in the grime of the City.

She opens the shower curtain, He probably left the bar somewhere silly, like over by the sink. Instead, she sees the holes in her life. There is where the razor should have been. And there where his towel should hang (he would never use the matched set). His silly little rubber sandals are gone too. Everything that was his is just … gone. She steps out of the shower, tracking wet footprints outside, and sees the Scott shaped hole in her life, wherever she looks. He didn't even leave a note.

It's beautiful, in a way, watching her thoughts and emotions come crashing down. A tiny little crystal, struck just right, can shatter a hundred other, larger crystals. Her tired annoyance is gone, swept away by an ever changing spread of anger, sorrow and loneliness. Just three simple ingredients, but an infinite set of combinations for us to observe.

She doesn't take the time to get dressed. It's two in the morning, and besides I can always make someone think I'm dressed as soon as I hears them coming. It's much more important to her to be able to break something, the sooner the better.

Xavier Institute, Danger Room, Late Saturday Night

"Ha!" Kitty leaps out from a building, kicking the last of the simulated bad guys in the head with both feet, before landing on the ground, panting. "Bad guys zip, Kitty seven." Kitty grins as she poses for a moment, and then releases the hostages. All women. Odd, but not that unusual. What /is/ unusual is what happens next. All four of them begin stripping off their clothes, as they surround her. "Oh, fraulein, you haff saved us!" one of them says "Let us thank you, our heroic rescuer!" another adds. If anything is heroic, it's the proportions on these girls. Kitty thinks, momentarily at a loss, stunned by the rapid change, forgetting for a moment, that this isn't real, as their arms and hands wander all over her tight uniform. "I uh …" "Thanks, but no thanks." She phases away from the crowd of disappointed looking women, and then over to a control panel. "That is /not/ supposed to be there." She freezes the program, and begins scanning the code. I thought I had the Danger Room fixed. She thinks to herself. I know that this shouldn't be happening, not with the new code, and the new AI. She frowns. The modification is actually ... We ease her worries, slide a thought into her mind. *It's probably one of Kurt and Bobby's old tricks.* It would be their style. She runs a quick systems check, and everything comes back within parameters. She grins wickedly for a moment, and then changes the gender of the amorous 'hostages'. I'll track whoever it is down later, but if they try to use it in the meantime … She grins, imagining the looks on their faces. *Speaking of the looks on their faces* Kitty takes a few moments to admire the women. Maybe we can even use this in the training. It could make a nice distraction. She thinks. I wonder how far they are programmed to go … She blushes, and blanks the danger room quickly, wiping out the half-naked hostages and the entire scene from the display. There /shouldn't/ be anyone down here this late, but the last thing she needs is wild rumors about her using the danger room for sexual escapades. Even if, when I was a student here, it may have been true. Especially then. It's good to have root access.

Kitty grins to herself as she heads for the shower, fatigue and the danger room bug serving her purposes. Which involve /not/ thinking about the puppy dog looks Peter gives her whenever he thinks she's not looking, or the way her personal life is falling apart, at the moment.

Yet even now, when she thinks she's gotten some distance from her emotions … Hell, maybe I should date the danger room, she thinks to herself. At least I'd get laid. She sighs, as she goes into the locker room to change and take a shower.

…

Kitty pops through the wall next to Emma, headed for the locker rooms. Emma wraps illusion around herself in that instant, and glares at Kitty. "Yes?" Oh god. I saw Emma Frost naked. No, she's actually in business wear, less slutty than usual, in fact. So why do I know exactly what she looks like naked?

"Miss Pryde?" Emma frowns, her expression stern. "Is something wrong?"

Kitty says "Yes! No! I mean …" She pauses, trying to get her head straight. "I " She's way sexier than the hostages "found a small glitch in one of the hostage programs. "H-17. I think some of the boys were messing with it." *Nothing serious, though* "Nothing serious, though." It's trivial to distract Kitty with Emma naked. *After all, her uniform leaves so little to be guessed at, one practically must guess* So I think Frosty looks sexy. Because I saw her Naked. With her clothes on. After I was attacked by lesbian hostage groupies. Kitty shakes her head a little, determining that, after a cold shower, she's going to sleep for a few days, and then see if this makes any more sense.

"I see." Emma nods. "Very well then, Miss Pryde." She's too distracted to even send a tentative probe at Kitty now, but we can't let her find us inside. We slip from Kitty's mind gently, waiting for our damsel to be distressed. Emma heads for the controls to the danger room while Kitty phases back into the locker room.

…

*Katherine! As much as I am loathe to do so, I require your assistance. I'm afraid there's a small problem with the danger room.*

Kitty sighs, as she pulls her t-shirt on and jeans.

"It's 2:30 in the morning. Can't it wait until tomorrow?" she asks the air, rhetorically.

*I'm afraid not.*

"I hate it when she does that." Kitty groans again, but heads to the controls to see what the small problem is now. Her eyes pop wide, as her fingers fly at the keyboard a moment later. On the screen, Emma is ducking through a ruined city pursued by two sentinels. A third smokes in the ruins of a building. The lethal damage over-ride is engaged, the red light flashing above the door. "Holy shit."

*Quite* On the screen, Emma runs, as a pair of sonic blasts destroy the building she was hiding behind.

Kitty swears as she desperately tries to shut the danger room down. Whoever put this in was good enough to get by all the security, and to stop someone like her from using any of the quick ways to stop this.

"I … hang on, Emma." Kitty rams a fist through the console as she phases, causing the system to flicker, and the lethal over-ride light to go off for a moment, before it goes back on. "Damnit!" Kitty leaps into the danger room, phasing through the wall.

*One does one's best*

Emma gains perhaps a second on her pursuers, as the room flickers, and the Sentinels pause, as she tries to find someplace else to hide, or run to. She runs out of places to hide and finally takes off at a flat out run. Too slow. The first sentinel's blast sends her flying, the sonic pulses sending her bouncing off a building, and feeling as if her insides had been turned to jelly. The second is just taking aim, when it erupts into sparks and slumps as Kitty leaps out through its chest from behind.

"Surprise." She dives into the other before it has a chance to react, disabling it as well. She lands, phasing back to normal as the room flickers, and then the program shuts back down. "Oy".

A moment later Kitty notices Emma slumped bonelessly on the floor of the danger room. "Emma!" Kitty quickly checks the pulse. Still alive. Still breathing. She grabs Emma and phases as she rushes to the medlab.

*I'm … rather glad you decided not to wait until tomorrow, Katherine.* Emma manages, as Kitty is laying her on a bed, and starting to run diagnostic equipment. "Emma." Kitty begins. "I … look, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with the system. It shouldn't have /done/ that. Someone tried to kill you. The normal sentinel program doesn't have just the right weapons to shatter diamond."

"You don't say." Emma winces. *I can't recommend them on flesh, either.* Kitty finishes getting the equipment hooked up.

"I don't think you have a concussion." She frowns, as she checks some readings. "And no breaks. You've just been tenderized a little. The blast must have barely caught you."

Emma catches her wrist, as she turns to check something. "You came after me." she says, speaking clearly, despite the pain.

Kitty frowns. "I … you're an X-man. You're part of the team. We don't leave our people behind." She sighs. "I … I guess I was a little slow to admit it, but you /are/ one of us." She gently puts Emma's hand back down. Emma smiles up at her.

"Thank you."

Kitty watches her for a moment, the bruising already beginning to spread, before she sits down at the computer to keep an eye on Emma while she sleeps.

Echoes (3 of 5)

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 15:59:24 GMT

Echoes of Love (Part 3 of 5)
Betad by: Resolute
Rating: R
Timeline: After Breakworld (AXM 13+ spoilers)
Characters: Scott/Jean (Phoebe Stepford), Kitty, Logan, Stepford Cuckoos
Warnings: Sex, Angst

Xavier Institute, Lakeshore, Late Friday Evening/Early Saturday Morning

*Scott*

Like a whisper in his mind, Scott hears her voice. "Jean!" He sits up, forgetting for a moment where he is in time and space. He's in their spot, after all, on the lake. The moon shines down, pregnant with light as the lake sparkles in the summer evening. Am I awake or am I dreaming? he wonders.

Jean walks to him across the grass, the moon playing off her hair. *Does it matter?*. He smiles at her, as he stretches out on the grass. She looks at him for a moment, an enigmatic smile on her own face. "I have always loved your eyes, Scott" she says. She comes closer, letting a hand trail across his stomach, and then toys with his zipper. "But are you sure my enjoyment is worth the price?"

Scott wraps his arms around her narrow waist, looking down on her as he inhales the fragrance of her hair. "You're asking if I want my powers back?" He says, as his hands cup her hips, and he pulls her towards him with a single smooth motion. Her hand, trapped between their bodies, begins to move, as she gasps a little, but works at the zipper as she purrs against his neck.

"I'm asking you to choose" She whispers, as her teeth nip his ear, and she presses her naked body against him, her breasts full in the moonlight, the nipples flashing darkly as she grinds against him. "Between this." she smiles mischievously, as he groans "And what lies over there." She nods towards the mansion, unseen but felt. Scott's already made his decision. He throws her to the ground, even as she frees him from his pants, and soon her cries, just as he remembers them, wash over the hollow, along with his own. At the moment of climax, buried deep inside her, he looks into her eyes. The phoenix flashes out of them, the light and the fire filling him, as he fills her, both erupting into the night.

When he can see again, Scott is alone. He rolls over in the grass, awake now. Somehow while he was asleep and dreaming, he removed his pants. A good thing, too, he reflects, as he grins. He rolls over and falls asleep with a fond smile on his lips. Behind him, a small patch of grass is charred to the bare earth, but he doesn't notice, not now.

*Scott. I love you*

Asleep, he smiles.

Xavier Institute, Stepford Cuckoo's Suite, Early Saturday Morning

We thought that Phoebe would probably hate Mother the most, and enjoy doing this to her. Everything went perfectly at first. And then … We were but two, Mindee and Celeste. We looked at each other. After a moment had gone by, Mother came across our thoughts. *Stepford Cuckoos. Have you … is the Phoenix … has anything changed?* Her thoughts are tentative. She can't be sure of what that flash of thought was that she caught. *We felt nothing* we reply. The two of us look at each other, uneasy with the loss of one third of ourselves, but confident in the plan. *We sensed no change in our hearts* Again, the truth, for the two of us. Mother presses deeper, looking for something. We divert her into a prepared loop. *I think I would hate her, if I could, for Esmee* Mindee begins. *I think I would love her for what she showed us in the World* Celeste continues. Thankfully, at that moment, Phoebe returns to us, and we are three again. *I think we should all hate her, if only we could, for taking emotion away from us.*, she replies, on cue. Emma flees from our minds with nothing more than a cursory glimpse, as we knew she would. We confer. We do not remember why Phoebe cut herself off from us. We do not know why she erased her memories. Several theories are rejected, before we decide she must have done so in case Emma's investigation grew more serious than planned. We do remember what we needed, however. Scott surrendered everything to 'his Jean'.

*Goodnight Mother* the three of us send our thoughts to Emma. There is no reply.

Xavier Institute, Logan's Room, Saturday Morning

Kitty phases through the walls, up before breakfast. We are up with her, our thoughts following her, now as in her dreams. She dreamt of blood and fire and sex last night. Which means there's only one person to talk to this morning, she decides. As she enters Logan's room, she pauses, as she examines a small origami crane, out of place in this unmistakable bachelor's pad. In the background, she can hear the faint sounds of a shower. She grins, as she picks up a glass of ice cold water from the table, becoming real again as she tip toes towards the shower. Hope you like cold showers. The glass door is fogged up as she creep closer and closer and …

"Freeze." The command is accentuated by the feeling of ice cold metal at her back. She phases without thinking about it, as she turns to face Logan, phasing back as she nearly tackles him with a hug. "Oh Logan." she says "How do you do it?"

He blinks. It seems to take a moment for him to process shower to assassination threat to team-mate in trouble. His claws retract, as he pats Kitty on the back a little awkwardly. She doesn't notice that he's naked as she clings to him, sniffling a little. "What's wrong?" He says, as he sinks to the floor, still curled protectively around her. "If Pete did anything to you…" he growls.

"No! It's the opposite. I think. I don't know." He did, but how can I explain it? And it's not his fault. *Isn't it?* She looks up at Logan for a second. "I'll explain in a second, but first, I need to know." She says "How do you do it, knowing you could kill people, and not regret it?"

Logan sighs. "I wouldn't say I don't regret it. Anymore than you don't. You wouldn't be here if you didn't regret it, eh kid?" He pauses a moment, as he looks down into her teary eyes. "It's … complicated." He says "Pete's killed …"

Kitty interrupts: "It's not the same!"

"No, it's not. As I was saying, Pete's killed, and so have some of the others, but they're not killers." He says "It's not that you like the killing, or that you won't be sorry for it." He says "But you'd kill again, if you needed to, and you wouldn't waste time blubbering." He says "If it's you or the other guy, the rest of them try real hard." He says "You and me, kid, me make /sure/ it's the other guy."

She looks at him. "So." She says "And it's just you and me?" She looks up at him looking like she's 13 again, her eyes big. "Of course not." he says, after a moment or two. "There's you, me, Frosty …" He says "And others, too. But there's not many of us that are killers on the good guy side of the fence." He says "I take it that's what's /really/ been going on with you and Pete?"

Kitty sniffles and nods. "I don't want to hurt him." I do want to hurt him. I want to kill him. But I don't want him to get hurt.

Logan nods. "Well. If you love him, you're going to have to …"

Kitty frowns. "I … don't know if I love him anymore. How can you tell?"

"You don't know?"

"Well, I used to love him." Kitty frowns. "I mean, I'm not sure. It's all mixed up. I was just a kid"

"Look, kid. Forget about the past. Forget about the future. Right now. Would you kill for him? Die for him? Bear his children?"

"…no." Dear god, no!

"That's what I thought. I know you used to love him. And he probably still loves you." He hugs her for a second. "But if you don't love him, and you're worried about hurting him, then you need some space."

She squeezes him back, gratefully. "Thanks." So I'm not crazy. She looks at him. "So how do you handle love, as a killer?"

"Well." He thinks for a moment, his eyes distant. "If you love someone, really love them, you'd die before you'd let anything happen to them sort of love …" He shrugs. "Then you're caught, and you just learn to live with them. You lose the edge, with them. Nobody can hurt you like someone who loves you kid." He says "Assuming you're lucky enough to avoid something great and terrible like that, you need to find somebody as dangerous as you are."

Kitty pauses for a few moments, her arms still wrapped around him, something changing in the atmosphere. She 's not a little girl anymore, and Logan is so close, and warm. She takes a deep breath, her face pressed against his chest, and makes a decision. "Logan …" her voice low and suggestive, as are her roaming hands. "I killed you like this, you know." The memory comes, but it's blurred, softened by how she feels right now. She says "I hugged you, and then used my powers to kill you. Permanently."

He takes a deep breath, as he tries not to respond. His eyes close, and the cords in his neck stand out for a moment, before he replies.. His claws tap against her ribs, gently. "Only works once kid, and only if I'm not expecting it." He gently removes her hands. He says "No way you're as dangerous as I am." He says "Besides, you make me sound like I'm the world's oldest dirty old man." He hugs her as his other hand noogies her, and the tension evaporates.

He loves me. Kitty thinks. But … not like that. I don't like him like that either, really. I just … felt so alone.

There's a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Logan growls.

"Uh, it's Hisako. You know. Armor."

"Give me a minute." he says, loudly, as he stands up, padding for the door. "I ought to just install a revolving door." He grumbles under his breath.

Kitty squeezes Logan's hand for a second before she lets go. "Thank you." She says softly. "Oh, and Logan?"

"What?"

The towel hits him in the back of the head. "No need to diminish the legend" She sticks out her tongue and flees before she can hear a response, phasing through the wall and on her way in a much, much better mood than before. Nothing has been solved, But I'm not alone.

Echoes (2 of 5)

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 15:55:01 GMT

Echoes of the Past (Part 2 of 5)
Betad by: Resolute
Rating: Teen
Timeline: After Breakworld (AXM 13+ spoilers)
Characters: Scott/Emma, Kitty/Piotyr
Warnings: Angst. Dear /god/ the angst.

Xavier Institute, Lakeshore, Friday Evening

Scott and Emma aren't talking about it. Not even a little. Less than two hours after bringing the team home, Scott's walking the grounds near the lake, while Emma's gone back to the room. Never have we felt the bond between them so tenuous, so fragile. We can feel his thoughts follow the old familiar track back to Jean, the path worn smooth in his mind, as the track along the lake has been worn smooth by the passage of so many feet. Maudlin, cloying emotions cloud around him. The slightest nudge gives his thoughts a direction to head, an island in the morass of his mind that is Jean's. The image is clear in his mind, as clear now as it was then, standing with her on that desert plain. Guilt, like wine, improves with age, becomes more subtle, sharper. His thoughts though, are tiresome and predictable. I wasn't strong enough, then, to save Jean. I've never been strong enough to save her. It's so easy to slide into his mind. Emma's distant, as always when he dwells on Jean, and distracted besides. Carefully, three thoughts become one thought, become his thought, sliding into his mind. *Until now.* I saved Emma.. He thinks, proudly. *But I didn't do it for her, did I? I did it for Jean.* He frowns, not paying attention to where his feet fall. I love … *Jean. I've always loved Jean.* The thought soothes him. Of course he's always loved Jean. It makes things so much easier that it happens to be true. He frowns, confused for a moment. I saved Emma. He thinks, hesitantly. But … I did it for Jean. All those times with Jean … I wasn't strong enough. Never strong enough for Jean. Never strong enough … his own thoughts, not ours, but apt enough to our purposes. Never strong enough to hold onto the Professor's dream. *Now, though …* He smiles, faintly, as we feed his pride. I was strong enough. I saved the team, saved the school. Saved the girl, saved the world. Brought Pete back. He smiles as he looks around at the lake. It's beautiful. I never get the time to enjoy it, anymore. *And why not? I'm not an X-man anymore. It's fitting, isn't it, that I lose my powers just now, when I can lay down my burden with a clean conscience?*

His thoughts tilt and whirl, his emotions rising up. Could I really let it go? Stop being the Custodian of Charles's Dream? Stop being the stern taskmaster to train up another generation of casualties in a war that will not end? *Stop propping up Emma, giving away what should be his and Jean's*

He looks around, leaving those thoughts lie, for a moment. He's come back to their spot, the spot where he and Jean used to come, this tiny hollow, imprinted on his mind. Just big enough for two, it seems lonely now to him, with just his body in it. Emma … he begins, tentatively, *Has proved herself to everyone. Even Kitty. She's an X-man now, and she doesn't need me. I'm free …* He looks around him again, as the song of the crickets and the warm air begins to lull him to sleep. From here, he can't see the mansion, just the lake and the gorgeous night sky. *Cyclops should go back to the mansion. But Scott Summers … he's free to fall asleep out here, stay out late and dream* We know what he wants. He smiles. Jean. I'm strong enough, now. Come dream with me.

In the silence of the night, the only sounds are the crickets, the water, and in Scott's mind, the faint sound of a diamond being shattered.

Xavier Institute, Scott and Emma's Room, Friday Evening

Emma knows instantly. Scott's missing from her mind. In a moment of panic, she drops her shields, flinging her mind out, searching for him. She soon finds him, down by the lake, thinking of Jean, again. Dreaming of her. She retreats quickly. But by the time she contracts her shields again, we're inside them. Such a difference, from the morass of Scott's mind. Towers of crystal, emotions chiming from them like clear notes from crystal wineglasses. But look closer, and shadows lurk within the hearts of the crystals, tiny hidden flaws. Rigid minds are much less malleable, but if you can go with the grain … *The bitch has won.* we add, one more thought among the many filling her mind, but with more force behind it. I always knew I could never replace her. But he loved me! She protests in her own head. *He loved Jean. He's always loved Jean. You were, like Madeline before you, a substitute Jean.* She sags to the bed, and for a moment, none of her students would recognize her, so far from the perfect show she puts on for the world. What did I do wrong? She thinks. Perhaps when I invaded his mind and profaned the holy shrine of Jean. Perhaps when I took his powers, crippled him and made him less than an X-man. *Or maybe it was when he had to save you.* I've always been strong for Scott. Always been there to back him up, comfort him, re-assure him. Could that be it? *As soon as I needed /him/ to help me, he started growing distant. Gone back to Jean*

Damn the man! She fumes. He cant do this to her. Would I prefer he lied to me? She thinks, bitterly. Came to me whispering sweet nothings, with kisses on his lips, and Jean always on his mind? *Jean was always on his mind. All the love, passion, and sex tricks that I had to offer weren't enough to make him forget her, not for an instant.* She's felt his bond attenuate, even when they were hand in hand on SWORD's ship, and now it's gone. But never has his love for Jean been allowed to fade. Has he ever really loved me? Doubt. The cracks in the magnificent palace of Emma's mind are filled with doubt. *I am alone* Alone. Alone in an empty bed, in an empty room. She thinks, and not for the first time. Wasn't it enough, you bitch, you rotting whore's carcass, to take a thousand of my daughters from me? Wasn't it enough to take Phoebe, Mindee, and Celeste from me, as well? She's proud of us. She loves us. We recoil, but lost in her mental rant, she does not notice us. Must you now take this too from me? DAMN YOU! Her last thought thunders, on empyreal wings, projected as far as Emma can manage to throw it. Telepaths in Chicago will hear it, but she does not seem to care. With a thought, she's wrapped in the safe cocoon of her diamond form, cut off from all the world. We can no longer find her, but we estimate that she is weeping.

Xavier Institute, Stepford Cuckoo's Suite, Friday Evening

We have much to discuss. We do not push, we merely guide. Scott yearned for all his heart for freedom, and he has it now. But what to do with Mother? We think that we would hate her, if we could. But we remember that we did love her. And she loves us. What weight love, in the human heart, and what is the unit of measurement for hate?

Eventually, consensus is reached. Where emotion and philosophy have failed us, the tales themselves will guide us. She has suffered, and now she will have a chance at happiness. Now. To find a suitor for her …

Xavier Institute, Peter's Room, Friday Evening

Kitty and Peter are talking about it. They're talking about it a lot. Arguing about it, if you want to be specific. Anger, like coffee can be bitter, but an acquired taste. It draws us into her mind, to watch this argument.

"God /damnit/, Pete" Kitty says, "I can't explain it any more or any better." Her constant low-grade headache since Lockheed remained on the Breakworld is only getting worse, pounding with this argument. Doesn't he get it? She wonders. How can I possibly make him understand? Her mind is made of images, shifting in an out of phase with each other, now clear, now fading back into the depths. We find an image, enhance it, and thrust it forward, the edges sharp enough to wound. There she is, the axe through Peter's brain, threatening him, all over again. It doesn't need to be an axe. I could use the chair right here, she thinks. Sickened, she reels.

As he reaches forward to catch her, we find more images from within her mind, throwing them at her one after another. Pete and her first kiss. Pete and her having sex, and the feel and smell of his skin. Pete hitting her. Again and again, the images woven into a single whole.

"Don't touch me!" She yells, catching him in midstoop, a hurt and confused expression on his face. Pete says "I … but I thought we …" he says "We can work this out."

Like the baby worked out? Like the axe handle worked out? Oh yes. Pete's always willing to let things get worked out. Look at what happened on the Breakworld she thinks. A prophecy, a few billion believers, and the tacit approval of S.W.O.R.D. to wipe out a planet. And he fought so hard, to 'work it out'. *But the cure, 'Hope' is still here. Nothing's been solved.* She looks at Pete for a moment, noticing he's pulled back, wary of her. Only then does she realize that she's been flickering in and out of phase erratically, the chair she's been holding onto fused into the floor. *Better to end this now. Before anyone gets hurt* we add, sliding the thought into her mind. Yes. Because I'd kill him, before I let him hurt me and my child like that again. She takes a deep breath, stabilizing, fully real. "I … it's over, Pete." she says. "You died. I changed. I'm not 14 anymore." She ignores his expression, the stoic Russian face he wears to hide emotion, as she plows on. "I tried pretending I still felt the same. And I'll always be your friend." Wonderful. The clichés. "But I can't pretend anymore. Not after everything that's happened."

"Katya, I'm sorry …" he reaches for her. We don't even need to overlay the image of the same words, the same reach, right before she hit her, and stole their child. Her own mind leaps to the conclusion before we can intervene.

Without a moment's hesitation, she phases, his arm passing through her, as she reacts to the threat. After a moment, he shrinks back on himself, sitting down heavily on the bed, speechless. We take a moment to admire the strength and variety of Kitty's emotions. Anger at him, for doing this to her. Loathing for herself. Pure, undiluted hatred the situation. She speaks, spitting out the words, the emotions thickening her voice and almost taking tangible form.

"Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again."

With that, she hurls herself through the wall and into the hallway, blindly headed for her room. We help guide her there, so we can watch her cry in privacy.

Echoes (1 of 5)

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 15:49:49 GMT

Echoes of Ourselves (Part 1 of 5)
Betad by: Resolute
Rating: R
Timeline: Between Phoenix Warsong (Spoilers) and before AXM 13+
Characters: Emma Frost, Stepford Cuckoos, Hisako
Warnings: Stepfordcest (Strongly Implied), Angst

Xavier Institute, Ethical Constructs Class, Afternoon

We are apt pupils, the three in one. "The best stories work on multiple levels" Emma says. "And the morality tales don't necessarily result in happy endings, but appropriate ones."

She glances around the classroom as the summer sunlight shines though the windows at the students struck here on a gorgeous day. "In the original version of the 'Sleeping Beauty' tale, for example" our Mother continues, "Both the curse, and the counter curse are the product of the Dark Fairy. She pronounces the sentence of death on the infant Beauty, but then, moved by the Queen's appeal, commutes the sentence to one of sleep for a thousand years." Her words stop there, but her thoughts continue, as she looks everywhere but at the three of us. *And in the original tale, Beauty is awakened not by a kiss, but by the suckling of her twin babes, gotten on her unconscious form by her 'Prince Charming'* Guilt and sorrow wash from her. We examine it at a remove, like a peculiar flower under glass. Ah, the absent parent. Was it mercy that made the Dark Fairy change her mind? We doubt it.

"The old tales of Faerie are dark as often as light. They are deadly serious lessons for the medieval mind, establishing an oral ethical guide." We have a question. A moment later, Hisako raises her hand to ask it. "Miss Frost … um." She pauses. "When you say 'on multiple levels' are you talking about how the Fairies embody or provoke human emotion and reaction, while still being, essentially, inhuman and unfeeling?" Emma glances at us, but we sit and watch as we always do. She looks away, her expression hiding her pain from anyone but us. "In part Hisako, and that's an astute observation." She changes the subject, "But more importantly, look at how illusion reveals truth, both within the stories, and through the medium of the story itself, an ethics lesson disguised as entertainment." The bell rings and class ends, cutting this session short. Still, we have an idea, and perhaps, a purpose.

Xavier Institute, Stepford Cuckoo's Suite, Evening

It used to be important that Celeste was ticklish. That Phoebe liked it rough, while Mindee needed to be coaxed along. We've always loved each other in ways that no one else could understand. Now, of course, while it's still most convenient and efficient for us to help each other, it's a simple biological need. Removing a distraction. Still, some old habits remain ingrained. As we rest, after, a heap of intertwined arms, legs and minds, fingers stroke flesh quietly as our minds hum. We have a name now, for what we are. Fey. We can still provoke emotion, even if we cannot feel it. We can remember what it was to be human. We agree on this purpose for us, this reason to continue. We have, of course, other reasons. To contain the Phoenix. Because we think we might love living, if we could. Because living gets to be a habit, after awhile, just like everything else. But we greedily take more reasons, more purpose. After we've committed suicide a thousandfold, how little three more seems to matter. Perhaps our illusions too, can reveal truth. Perhaps, that will be enough for us.

First post.

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 01:25:41 GMT

So. First post.

A little about me: I'm a total geek, a devotee of several diverse fandoms, a hopeless romantic. I'm hopelessly in love with with a fantastic poly bi woman. I'm ex-military and ex-college. I'm the son of a preacher man. I enjoy roleplaying, fanfiction, comics, science fiction, fantasy, wargaming, sex and many other things that I've been assured will send me to hell. I am addicted to peeps, but can stop smoking anytime. I can quote the /entirety/ of The Princess Bride, doing the voices, from memory, along with the prologue to the canterbury tales (in Middle English). I often forget where I left my keys, or my pin number to my debit card. Yes, I am strange.

Hi.