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| Metamorphosis; Multi-band, PG-13/R Slash | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 18 2011, 05:23 AM (318 Views) | |
| Torrid | Jan 18 2011, 05:23 AM Post #1 |
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Hell is Here.
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Not too slashy. This is totally based on one of my favourite film, cartoon and comicbook franchises [and you'll know which one as soon as I show you this scene]. It's multi-band, multiple pairings, a little bit slashy and a lot of fun. I've had an awesome time writing it so far and it's gonna be a long one. Enjoy it. Comment on it. Rate it. Recommend it. ---------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER ONE Mutation. It’s the key to our evolution. It has enabled us to evolve from a single celled organism, into the dominant species on the planet. This process is slow, normally taking thousands and thousands of years but, every few hundred millennia, evolution takes a leap forward. ------------------------------- “Niagara Falls, up the Canadian Rockies,” the young man smiled as he ran his fingers over a route that he had plotted with tacks on a map on his bedroom wall. “… and then, it’s just a few hundred miles over to Anchorage.” He turned to a girl who was laid on his bed behind him. “It’s a little cold up there though, you’ll freeze to death.” “That’s the point.” He grinned. “Get a different view of the world… instead of seeing sweaty Oakland all damn year.” “When exactly do you plan to do this anyways? I’ll miss you.” He lay down by her side and looked over at her. “No idea. Whenever I get the chance I guess.” She found the look of slight guilt in his eyes. “It’s soon isn’t it?” He gulped and looked into her eyes.. “Well, yeah. Before Mom and Dad kick my ass out.” They held each others gaze for a moment before slowly moving closer, leaning over to kiss. Light pressure elevated to crushing contact. The boy moved his hand to the girl’s back as he heard he gasp. Then struggle. His eyes opened and caught a view of her face. Veins risen, face hollow and pale. His eyes widened as he dropped her in panic. “Shit… Anna?” he touched her arm and her skin started to turn blue. “Shit! Somebody help!” A torrent of footsteps thundered up the stairs. “Oh my god… Robert! What’d you do?” a man who appeared to be the young man’s father burst through his bedroom door with his mother in tow. Robert stood at the foot of his bed, shocked into silence. “Anna?” he shook the girl gently. “Robb?” his mother glared at him in a panic, grabbing his wrists. “I-I just… touched her. She started shaking and… I don’t know what happened!” His father looked back at him angrily and he himself started shaking. “Call an ambulance!” “Robb, calm down…” his mother tried to calm him but, to no avail. His face drained of any color as he slumped down his bedroom wall. He shook his head vigorously, tapping his forehead with the heels of his hands. “What have I done?” he whispered repeatedly. “Will you call an ambulance?!” his dad shouted urgently as Anna trembled on the bed. His mother went to touch his arm as she left the room but, he scooted away yelling. “Don’t touch me!” |
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| olyamet | Jan 18 2011, 05:30 AM Post #2 |
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Let's Dance
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OMG!!!! X-Man!!!! Torr I love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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| Torrid | Jan 18 2011, 06:35 AM Post #3 |
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Hell is Here.
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CHAPTER TWO “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now seeing the beginnings of another stage of human evolution. These mutations manifest themselves during puberty, often triggered by periods of heightened emotional stress.” “Thank you, Mr. Ulrich, that was…” the man who, evidently, was presiding over the meeting, cleared his throat. “…quite educational, however, it fails to address the issue that is the sole purpose and focus of this hearing.” He cracked his knuckles. “Three words: Are. Mutants. Dangerous?” The man at the podium stood his ground. “I’m afraid that’s an unfair question, Senator McClain. The wrong person behind the wheel of a car can be dangerous.” “Well, we do license people to drive—“ “Yes, sir but, not to live their lives.” He took in a breath and continued. “Senator, the small number of mutants who’ve come forward and revealed themselves publicly… have been met with fear, hostility and have even been threatened with violence.” He looked down at his notes once more. “It is because of that ever present hostility that I am urging the Senate to vote against mutant registration.” An adviser to Senator McClain came to his side and presented him with a file. He left with a nod. “To force mutants to expose themselves will only further—“ “Expose themselves? What is it that the mutant community has to hide that makes them so afraid to identify themselves?” “I didn’t say they were hiding…” Ulrich added, with a shake of his head. “Well then, let me show you exactly what is being hidden, Mr. Ulrich. I have here…” he mentioned lifting the document he had just been handed for the rest of the senate to see. “a list of identified mutants living right here in the United States.” “Senator…” “A young man who can walk through walls. Now, I ask you, what’s to stop him from walking into a bank vault or even into the White House? Or even into their houses? There are rumors, Mr. Ulrich of mutants so powerful that they’re capable of entering out minds and control our thoughts… taking away our God-given free will.” From the back benches of the Chamber, a man with long, flame red hair sat watching the hearing take place. Hanging on every word. “Now, I think the American people deserve the right to decide whether or not they want their children to be in school with mutants.” Senator McClain continued. “To be taught by mutants.” Men on either side of the man at the back applauded in agreement with the senator. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the truth is… that mutants are very real.” He said with a slight dip in his voice. “They are among us. We must know who they are and above all, we must know what they can do!” he finished to a unanimous applause from the entire senate as Mr. Ulrich looked on uncomfortably from his podium. The man with the red hair, who was very well dressed and apparently in a wheelchair, caught sight of another red haired man leaving the room. He quickly followed him out. Down the hall, he called to him. “Dave.” The other man slowed to a stop. “What’re you doing here?” “Why do you ask questions… when you already know the answers to them?” “Don’t give up on them, Dave.” “What exactly am I supposed to do here, Cliff?” he asked, his tone dead and monotonous. “I’ve heard every single one of these arguments before.” “But, that was way back… the Earth’s evolved since then.” “Yeah, into us.” Cliff narrowed his eyes, appearing to concentrate hard on the man in front of him. Dave pressed two fingers against his temple. “Are you trying to sneak around in here, Cliff? Whatever could you be looking for?” He turned to him finally. “I’m looking for a sign of hope in your thick head.” He admitted. “I will bring you hope, Old Friend, I ask for one thing in return. Stay out of my way.” He gave him the slightest of nods and turned back away, continuing on down the hall. His voice grew distant as the space between them lengthened. “We’re the future, Cliff, not them! They don’t matter any more.” Cliff looked down at his feet, seemingly at a loss, his lips pressed into a thin line. |
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| Torrid | Jan 18 2011, 09:33 AM Post #4 |
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Hell is Here.
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CHAPTER THREE He was running. As far away as he could possibly get. Away from civilization. A long way away from anywhere that he could hurt people. Just… somewhere. Alone. “This is it.” The truck driver, that Robb had hitched a ride from, stated as he pulled up on a snowy roadside in the middle of St. Elsewhere. He walked around the side of his 18-wheeler and opened the door. Perfect. he thought as he woke up from the frightened haze that he’d fallen into. He grabbed his belongings and swung himself out of the truck. A barn lay in front of him. Chattering noises emerged from inside. Well, at least I’m not totally alone… He walked inside warily, his hood up over his head, covering his near black hair. He looked around, seeing a bar… and a cage. He stopped dead. Men gathered around the cage, jeering as a man fell to the ground with a dull, lifeless thud. A bell rang and a tall, blonde, shirtless man turned away from his fight, holding onto the wire that surrounded the cage. The man that had lost the fight was dragged out to a chorus of boos. Robb watched as his limp body was dragged across the concrete. He looked back to the cage. “In all my years, I’ve never seen something like this.” The crowd shouted in response. “Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?” he looked around at the winner of the fight as the men jeered ‘NO!’ Another man stood up, looking somewhat over-confident and yelled. “I’ll fight him!” Awesome, a fight club… Robb rolled his eyes and kicked at the ground. The man in the corner took a shot of what seemed to be vodka and rattled the cage once, preparing himself for another fight. “Ladies and Gentlemen, our Savior!” the MC covered his microphone and sneered as he looked at the bald and burly man who’d stepped up to challenge the champion. “Whatever you do, don’t hit him in the balls.” “You said anything goes…” “Yeah, yeah, anything goes but, he’ll take it personally…” The MC left the ring and the bell rang again, catching Robb’s ailing attention. The bald man took a pot shot at the blond and kicked him in his back, following it up with a one two punch to each side of his face. The champion fell down to his knees and the crowd roared with approval. Their champion obviously wasn’t a very popular guy. He was kicked in the belly repeatedly by the other man’s large and no doubt toe-capped boots. The blond man took a sharp breath in and stood straight up, blocking the bald guy’s next punch with his own hand. It sounded like steel had connected with flesh. The bald man nursed his fist, drawing it to his stomach. The other man reared his fist back and bared his teeth, red in the face. He stalked over to his prey and sent him flying back against the other side of the cage. He clicked his neck and headbutted him on the rebound. Another metal to flesh sound rang through the barn. The bald man fell to the floor, knocked out. Robb’s eyes widened. Probably shouldn’t have come here. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s winner and still King of the Cage…” the blond man snarled and kicked his opponent as he left the ring to more boos. “The Wolverine.” He lit up a cigarette and took a drag, breathing hard. ------------------------------------------------- Later, after the club had closed, the bar staff were cleaning up. Slow country music played in the background as the MC counted his money with what appeared to be his mistress. Another patron of the bar was asleep, snoring loudly on a nearby sofa. Robb sat at the bar, eyes looking at nothing in particular. Just… into space. His eyes drifted over a jar that stated simply: Tipping is NOT a city in China. Heh… no sense of humor. He looked up at the barman who looked like he was made of brick. Stoney faced and ugly as hell. He looked away again, down at his empty glass. The barman looked him over as he dried a glass. “You want something else, or are you stickin’ with soda?” Robb stayed quiet. The bartender shrugged. Suddenly, dressed and looking a little better than the last time Robb had seen him, the stocky ‘Wolverine’ sat down at the bar opposite Robb. “Beer.” He lifted a cigar to his lips and lit it as he cast his eyes across the room at Robb who, feeling a hole burning into his shoulder, cast a wary look his way. He raised his eyebrows and turned his attention to the TV. Ellis Island, once the arrival point for hundreds of thousands of American immigrants, is opening its doors again. Preparations are nearly complete for the upcoming United Nations World Summit. With nearly every invitation confirmed, the event promises to the largest single gathering of World Leaders in History. Wolverine cast his eyes down at the bar almost with despair, breathing out a large cloud of smoke as he fumbled with his leather jacket. The summit will cover everything from the World’s current economic climate to the mutant phenomenon and its impact on our World stage. He held his cigar to his mouth and stared up at the screen above his head. Robb jumped. They looked quickly to and from each other. American legislators contend that debate over mutant issues should be the primary focus of what is, on the surface at least, a strictly diplomatic affair. Robb looked back over at him, flinching slightly as the bald guy from before, evidently recovered, tapped the Wolverine on the shoulder. He looked round at him, waiting for the tongue lashing he was probably about to get… and not the first by the looks of it either. “You owe me some money.” The guy bellowed. “C’mon Stu, let’s not do this now, eh?” “No man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it…” Wolverine rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his beer and cigar. “Come on, this really isn’t worth it…” Stu leaned down next to him and whispered harshly. “I know what you are.” He lowered his tone and smirked a tiny smirk. “Listen man, you lost your money, a’right? You keep this up… you lose something else.” Robb shifted in his seat as the guy turned to leave, only to watch him turn back. Oh shi— “Dude! Look out!” he yelled as he saw the bald guy lunge at Wolverine with a knife. He jumped up, dodged, wheeled round and looked as though he was going to punch the guy in the chest… Robb however nearly shit himself when out of the Wolverine’s fist came two metal blades of his own. He gasped under his breath. Holy shit… The threatening snarl was back on the big blond’s face. The bald dude didn’t look so hot. His hands up in surrender, a third blade emerged from the Wolverine’s fist. He’s gonna kill him. For sure. I’m gonna bare witness to murder. Right here. Holy fuckin’ shit… The tip of the third blade pressed further into his throat. The wolverine’s eyes bore further into the glare of his opponent. Behind them, he heard a shotgun load. Stu looked over and raised his eyebrows. Wolverine lowered his eyes… feeling the gun barrel press against his ear. “Get the hell outta my bar, freak!” the gun toting bartender commanded. The entire bar’s eyes were on them. Wolverine looked back to Stu and thought. Stood still. One handful of blades still at his throat. With a flick of his other fistful of metal, he sliced the bartender’s gun clean in half, gunpowder going everywhere. Robb gulped as the blond man growled, snarling and grunting at both men. Both hands baring razor sharp blades. He looked cautiously between them both before retracting his claws. He stared at the bartender, shrugged his jacket and left. Robb looked around, grabbed his bag and quickly followed suit. The Wolverine sat in his camper, started the engine and flinched. He put his cigar back between his lips and nursed his fists. He looked back down at his knuckles and rubbed over them gingerly. After a few moments, he lit his cigar and drove away. |
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| Torrid | Jan 19 2011, 11:12 PM Post #5 |
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Hell is Here.
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CHAPTER FOUR The drive through the barren, snowy mountain roads to the next watering hole was quiet and lonely. He smoked silently, watching the road for stray animals or vegetation that may’ve fallen in the way of his van. Suddenly, he heard thudding in the back of the van. His ears twitched as looked behind him and ground down on the brakes, stopping in his tracks. He kicked the door open and got out. Cigar still between his teeth, he stalked around the side of the van, sniffing. He heard a light shuffling noise in his trailer. Bingo… he prodded the lump in the trailer. “Ah shit… what the hell…” it grumbled. He dragged the trailer cover off, revealing his stowaway. Robb looked up at him sleepily. “’the hell are you doing?” “Sorry man, needed a ride.” He sat up straight and looked him in the eye. “thought you might help me.” “Get out.” He jerked his thumb the other way. He grabbed Robb’s bag and tossed it on the ground. “Move it.” “Where am I supposed to go? I don’t know where the hell I am…” “I dunno…” he retorted with a drawl. “You don’t know or you don’t care.” “Pick one.” He relit his cigar and jumped back in his van. “I saved your ass!” Robb shouted after him. “No you didn’t…” he replied scathingly, driving off again. Robb stood in the snow, looking out after the van. Watching his only ticket out of there… stop. Heh, whaddaya know. The animal’s got a soul. he picked up his stuff and ran to the van, getting inside. ------------------------------------ “You got anything I can eat? I’m starving…” Wolverine ferreted around in his glove compartment and grabbed a pack of Jerky out and passed it to his hungry ‘passenger’. He stripped his two sets of gloves off and tore into the meaty snack. Wolverine stared at him with a hint of confusion in his ice blue eyes. Robb pushed his hood down off his head, finishing a strip of Jerky and looked over. “I’m Rogue.” He stated. Not knowing whether or not he was going to get an answer. He watched his blond driver take a long, hard pull of smoke and leaned over, spotting a dog tag hanging from his neck. “Were you in the army? Doesn’t that mean you were in the army?” he tucked it away under his shirt and Robb, for the umpteenth time in the last day or so, gulped. He turned his attention to the back of the truck and sniffed. “Wow.” “What?!” he jumped. “Suddenly my life doesn’t look all that bad…” “Hey, listen if you prefer the road, you can walk…” “No, it looks… fine.” He stared at his feet, chomping down more beef. Wolverine caught Robb rubbing his hands together with the cold. He flicked on the heater and went to grab his wrists. “Put your damn hands on the heater, you’re annoying me—“ “Seriously, you don’t wanna do that.” “I’m not gonna hurt you.” “Oh nah, it’s nothing personal.” He shied up. “It’s just… uh… when people touch my skin, weird things happen.” “What?” Robb hurried his ski gloves back on. “I don’t know… they get hurt.” “Fair enough.” Robb saw slits between his knuckles and caught his breath before he spoke. “When they come out… does i-it hurt?” “Every time…” he whispered. “What kind of a name is Rogue anyways?” he sighed, obviously trying to get off the pain subject. “Don’t know.” He looked at him again. “What kind of a name is Wolverine?” “My name is James.” He smiled softly. “Robb.” James smiled and huffed and looked back out onto the road. Silence fell for a few moments until Robb noticed something… “You should really wear your seat belt y’know…” “Look kid just ‘cause, I sorta like ya, doesn’t mean I need your advice—“ Yes, James. You do. You just crashed into a tree. You’re flying through your windshield and out onto the snow! Skidding. Robb’s head rested on the dashboard, he groaned in pain. The back of the van was on fire. Robb slowly came around to a smell of smoke worse than James’ cigar. He coughed and looked back. He then noticed that James was missing from his seat. Perfect time to panic. He shivered with the cold and looked out to the road. He caught sight of James, laid out, face first in powdery snow. He struggled to get out of the cab but, found himself stuck. He sighed with relief when he saw James move, apparently unscathed. However, his brow furrowed deeply when he saw him stand right up to his feet. That’s fucking impossible… the flames in the back grew higher in volume when James started to come back towards the van. Robb saw a cut on James’ forehead and a deep cut at that. He gasped when he saw the gash mend itself infront of his eyes. “You okay?!” James yelled from outside. “Legs are stuck!” Robb yelled back. He coughed, breathing in smoke. Suddenly, James started sniffing around. His head snapped in the direction of his intuitive sense of smell, drawing his claws out. He looked back to the burning van with Robb still trapped inside of it, finding himself flat on his face with a rather large amount of weight on his back. The pressure relieved and his assailant flung him back first into the nearest tree. He growled and looked up—straight into a branch. The other blonde man on the scene roared as he hit James square in the face. Like baseball bat to ball, James landed on the bonnet of his van. The man, who put on quite the display of teeth and claws, raised his arms back and roared loudly. It was then that the temperature plummeted. Several degrees in the already snow covered area. A blizzard whipped up and blew freezing air towards James’ attacker. A bright red flash lit the area, struck the man and –concurrently- the snowstorm stopped. Just like that. Before Robb could even comprehend what’d just happened, he was being blasted free from the burning van, dragged out and away as he watched another man grab James and lift him to safety. Just in time. The blast from the van sent the four men face first to the ground. |
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