Xavier blanched in the electronically enhanced mindscape. Ranma was truly his parent's son. His latent power was beginning to wake, so it was hard to totally pin down; but after brushing his surface thoughts, it began to gel. The nuances of his x-genes had allowed a synergy of his parents' traits to begin to emerge in him.
Ranma was beginning to develop the ability of Perfect Mimicry. As with his talent of acquiring martial arts, he would be able to 'capture' a person's image like his mother. But with the traits of his father, should he be able to make contact with his target, he would be able to copy their talents as well. Due to his training, once he had experienced the way his body felt when using that skill, he could use it any time he wanted. If he faced, for example, Kitty, then once he touched her he would be able to phase.
His mutation was such, Xavier mused with a bit of dry humor, that he would be able to touch Rouge without effect. Her adsorption effect was, in effect, an imperfect version of his own. He had despaired of the young woman ever having someone with whom she could interact, without her having to guard against possibly killing them.
He was about to probe a little deeper, when a spike of combined pain/anger/fear triggered the young man's abilities. The mind, previously as open as a paper fan in use, suddenly became as impervious as adamantium...
Logan snarled as he sniffed the breeze. Ranma, still not used to his biological father's mecurical moods, tensed and began to probe for attackers from anywhere. What touched his awareness caused him to growl as well.
"Ninja," he muttered. "'Bout a dozen of 'em."
"Hand," the animalistic adult supplied. "They're after me, but they'll try to kill you, too, kid."
Ranma snickered. "They're about as able to do that as a origami crane can fly through a fire," he stated arrogantly. He glanced to the side and raised a hand. As if by magic, there were throwing daggers clenched between each of the fingers. He whipped his hand in an arc, sending the deadly missles back into the surrounding shadows; he gave a wild grin when he heard the three pained grunts and soft thuds. "Nine left."
Logan popped his claws. "Dont get cocky, bub," he chastised, a minuscule amount of pride seeping into his voice. "Just stomp the idiots." He suddenly leapt into the air, his arms flashing out to impale two more shadow-warriors upon his unbreakable blades. "Seven."
The young master martial artist was about to respond, when he saw the snarling man suddenly develop a second grin, his throat spraying blood into the air. He screamed, "Father! NOOOOO!".....
...and found himself kneeling beside the older man, cradling his surprisingly heavy head against his chest. He looked down, and noted that his arms were subtly different. In fact, they were exactly like Logan's own! He shifted the man in his arms so he could extract his right arm, then flexed the muscles as he had seen done.
*SHLUK!*
He gritted his teeth. That had been incredibly painful, but the results were impressive. From the top of his hand had emerged three bone-blades, almost identical to the metal ones Logan himself used.
"this is new," the older man burbled out through his still perforated voicebox. "why'ju smell like me, bub?"
Ranma looked down, into the surprisingly lucid eyes of his father and relaxed. "How?" he gasped.
Logan gave him a slow blink, then smiled widely with an expression of a happy piranha. "It's my mutaution," he assured the younger man, his voice growing firmer. "I – cough – heal really quick. Looks like my claws were a mutation as well." The older man sat upright. "Looks like you win this round, bub," he grumbled. "Seven Hand, four in a berzerkergang." The older man reached into a concealed pouch and pulled a small device.
Ranma looked around the deserted lot that the fight had taken place in. Around them were four sets of uniforms that appeared to have been dropped into a shredder. "That was me?" he squeaked.
Logan replied, not looking up from the device he was probing gently with the tip of a claw. "Yup," He finished with the device, then tossed it over his shoulder at Ranma. "Put it on, kid. Yer 'skin condition' might cause problems, leastwise till we can get you trained."
The young man blinked as he looked down into his cupped palms. Not at the digital watch in them, but at the hands themselves. They once again appeared to be the same as they were before the fight, but were a pale lavender in color. He turned them over and noted that there were regularly-spaced stripes of a pale bubblegum-pink, almost like the bands on an animal's pelt. "The hell?" he gasped.
"Yer a changer, like yer mum," the burly man told him, standing up on his still-rubbery legs. "You relax, you shift back to that."
Just then, as is usual for someone with a water-activated curse, a freak shower suddenly occurred. Logan watched as the black-haired, lavender skinned young man with the pink stripes changed into a redheaded, pink-skinned girl with lavender striping.
The older man felt himself fall onto his butt as he stared into the still-expressive eyes of the grumbling young... sniff... woman. "Alright, kid," he growled. "Tell me just what that idiot Genma did during the training trip; but get that holo-mask on first."
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(Posted Mon, 04 Oct 2004 20:52)
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