Professor Charles Francis Xavier. ‘Professor X.’
A powerful mutant telepath.
A visionary.
A man just regaining consciousness, duct-taped to a chair in his office, with a splitting migraine, a psi-dampening helmet fastened securely onto his bald head, and a very good idea as to who his attackers were.
“You wanted to see me, Professor?”
‘…Quentin Quire…’ Still groggy, Xavier made no attempt to speak.
The teenage Omega-level telepath shrugged at Charles’s silence and continued monologing. “Professor Xavier, you taught us to think outside the box. Do you remember doing that? You encouraged us to think new thoughts, develop new ideas, and find new solutions to old problems.” Quentin rummaged around in his bag of cookies and stuffed one into his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully while staring down at the prone Headmaster. “So we did. The helmet’s based on Magneto’s telepathy-proof technology…you couldn’t think into his helmet, and you can’t think out of this one.”
Unseen beneath the metal headgear, Xavier rolled his eyes as the assembled teens snickered. Any telepath worth their salt would have figured out that little detail an instant after regaining consciousness; the boy just wanted to brag about how terribly clever he was. ‘Not that I’m in any position to argue the point…’
Undaunted by the Professor’s continued silence, Kid Omega soldiered on in a more sombre tone of voice. “All your rhetoric about man/mutant brotherhood sounded really inspiring when I was thirteen, Professor, but I grew up, and the world looks a little different when you’re taller. Your ‘dream’ has failed the mutant race at every turn, Professor; humans can’t be reasoned with, and the only thing we haven’t actually tried yet is Magneto’s way…total extermination of the human race.”
Footsteps, then the sound of a wall sliding open made Xavier wince; a gang of drug-addicted wanna-be mutant revolutionaries could do a lot of damage to his private lab.
A female voice hissed; Tattoo, no doubt. “Secret X-Labssss…I smell Kick!” The glee in her voice was palpable, as was the delight in the voices of the teenage boys as they crowded into the lab to share in the unexpected bounty.
Quentin turned to speak to his Professor one last time before joining his friends. “The school gates open to the public in two hours, Professor…”
Sighing, Xavier just sat and listened while the teens munched their way through snacks and took hits of the mutation-enhancing drug Kick, laughing and bragging about how many humans they were going to kill and which X-Men they were going to ‘kick the shit out of’ when the ‘revolution’ began. Bragging aside, it was painfully clear that this ‘Omega Gang’ was going to cause a great deal of harm before they were stopped, but Charles was comforted by the fact that his X-Men would stop them. That the act of stopping the rogue students would require a significant application of force from his X-Men was a reality that he acknowledged and lamented.
…well, mostly lamented.
Several hours later, outside the gates to Xavier’s School for the Gifted
“Damn it, I’m running late because of you, old man!”
The turban-wearing old cabbie was - oddly enough – not even remotely intimidated by his passenger. Even if he didn’t speak English or Japanese, you’d think the blatantly furious pitch to the clearly athletic male’s voice would have sent the Indian man fleeing for his life, but he simply grinned his toothless grin and held out his seven-fingered hand, waiting patiently to be paid the fare.
Unwilling to skip out on a bill like the worthless panda would, no matter how tempting the thought was, Ranma shoved a pile of notes into the driver’s creepy hand and jumped back to avoid the cloud of black smoke disgorged by the rickety vehicle as it lurched away down the street. Shooting one last glare at the departing yellow cab, Ranma vowed; “From now on, I’m running if I have to get places. No matter how many clowns are swinging around New York in their pyjamas, it’ll be quicker to just knock ‘em out and keep moving instead of trying to explain why I’m hopping along the rooftops to every single one of them.” The pigtailed wonder checked his watch again, swore, and bolted for the wide-open gates of the Xavier Institute at a speed comparable to his namesake.
Celeste, Esme, Mindee, Phoebe, and Sophie Stepford, the Five-in-One, followed behind their mentor as they, and the rest of the faculty, students, and guests, made their way back to the main building after the opening event. The five blonde teens making up the Stepford Cuckoos were arrayed around a Volkswagen-sized telepathic illusion of the Earth; all that was left of the ‘Dance of the Planets’, the grand psionic display that had opened the day’s events. While rightfully proud of their achievement, they were also mildly annoyed by the absence of a certain bald Headmaster.
As was usual when the Cuckoos were linked to each other, the sisters spoke as one. “The Professor was supposed to join us for the opening, Miss Frost. That’s what he said last night.”
“He likes to make an entrance, dear girls. I’m sure he’s racing against the clock to powder his head just so.” Immaculately dressed in a typically white and expensive suit, with knee-high platform boots and a dress that stopped mid-thigh, Emma Frost looked utterly unconcerned, when in reality she was very concerned; the faculty was on full alert, and at this very moment Wolverine was making his way towards Xavier’s office.
*PROFESSOR X IS OUR HOSTAGE! WE’RE HIJACKING THE CORRUPT AND REACTIONARY XAVIER INSTITUTE!*
Even altered somewhat by the volume and distortion of a megaphone, Quentin Quire’s voice was easily recognised by the six blonde telepaths, who turned – along with the rest of the crowd – to see a skinny teenager with a purple Mohawk and a black and red striped shirt leaning out of an upstairs window. Emma scowled up at the boy. “Bugger.”
Shifting a little to allow his comrades to hang a banner (with an omega symbol over an X) out the window, Kid Omega nonetheless continued his tirade. *WE DEMAND NOTHING LESS THAN YEAR ZERO FOR MUTANTKIND! TRY THE HUMANS FOR THEIR CRIMES! SCHOOL’S OUT!* Bringing his awesome telepathic talents to bear, Quentin fanned the sparks of righteous anger within the assembled students into a revolution flame with a single screamed command; *RIIIIOT!*
Explosions, screams of terror, and threats of imminent death generally make people run faster, and that was certainly true where Ranma was concerned. Ranma differed from the norm in that he was running TOWARDS the sounds of violence, cutting through a small forested area and leaping onto the roof of a parked tour bus so he could get a good view of the action.
A battle had erupted in front of what looked like the main school building, with teens wielding anti-human signs hurling a vast array of special moves at their equally-empowered fellow students. The whole crowd briefly scattered whenever a pink-blob-encased skeleton lobbed handfuls of flaming goo into the writing throng from a second-floor window, but the whole lot of them seemed determined to fight to the finish.
“Thanks in no small part to the powerful telepath egging them on.” A cool, cultured female voice spoke up from the area behind the bus, startling the Asian warrior. Leaning to peek over the edge, the martial artist found five cute and identical blonde girls and a woman who must have been their older sister assembled behind the large vehicle, watching him intently. For no apparent reason, one of the girls started giggling while the others smiled, and the older sister smirked in amusement and a little satisfaction before speaking up again. “If you would be so kind as to launch a ‘Pride of the Fierce Tiger’ at that pink imbecile, we would all be very grateful, Mr Saotome.”
Ranma blinked down at her for a moment before nodding enthusiastically and assuming a more stable stance in preparation. “…gotcha, one Ki blast coming up.” Ordinarily, he might have demanded to know how she knew his name and the name of one of his special moves, but he damn well knew better than to ignore an order from a woman who looked like she could give Nabiki the willies. He was dense, not suicidal. Focussing his Ki into his cupped palms, he blasted a sapphire pillar of energy into the blob man with the standard shout of; “Moko Takabisha!” Caught completely off guard, the still-smouldering living mass of bio-parrafin, bones, and internal organs was slammed back into the building and into the leader of the half-planned revolution, carrying Kid Omega into and through the far wall of the room with a force that was audibly devastating even as far away as Ranma was standing.
Seconds later, like puppets having their strings cut, the entire student body collapsed to the ground. Blanching, Ranma stared at the fallen students, then at his hands, then the students, before swallowing nervously and walking to the edge of the bus roof, silently praying that he’d be allowed to keep at least the clothes on his back once the blonde woman was through with him.
“My name is Emma Frost, Mr Saotome, and I’m not about to rob you blind for something that was my own doing. Well, myself and my girls, to be more precise.”
Not a little relieved, Ranma dropped to the ground to stand before the blonde females. “Great, but how did you-”
“Telepathy,” Emma interrupted smoothly. “In other words, we told their brains to go to sleep.”
“…cool trick.” He wondered if they’d be able to teach him to do that.
Smirking a little more, Emma shook her head and strolled out from behind the cover of the bus to survey the damage to the school and grounds. “For now, Sophie, Phoebe, Mindee, Celeste, and Esme will keep you company, but be forewarned; they get very annoyed if you get their names wrong.” The highly-skilled telepath and occasional living diamond very much enjoyed the nervous look on Ranma’s face as two of the five completely identical girls took hold of his muscular arms, and the other three arrayed themselves around him, all with distinctly predatory gleams in their eyes. ‘They grow up so fast these days.’ Having long-since divined the reason for his visit to the school, Emma added; “Once the faculty has cleaned up this mess, we’ll be more than happy to-
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(Posted Fri, 05 Jan 2007 19:37)
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