Categories > Movies > X-Men: The Movie > Rise Firebird


by Plutospawn 0 reviews

Lorna Dane was an average nine year old girl. Hilary Duff was in her Ipod during the flight, but if any of the boys back at the school had asked her, she would have said she was listening to Outka...

Category: X-Men: The Movie - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters: Cyclops, Nightcrawler, Wolverine, Other - Published: 2006-01-03 - Updated: 2006-01-03 - 1289 words

Lorna Dane was an average nine year old girl. Hilary Duff was in her Ipod during the flight, but if any of the boys back at the school had asked her, she would have said she was listening to Outkast; her Keds were pink and her hair, bright green. Lorna allowed Kurt to lead her into the facility, her hand tightly wrapped around the older man's tail.
Hank met them at the door. "Kurt, I'm glad to see you two arrived safely."
"Likewise," Kurt said. "We came as soon as you called."
"And you must be Lorna." Hank bent down to be eyelevel with the girl. "It's a pleasure, young lady."
Lorna's knuckles turned white around Kurt's tail. She glanced up at the German man for support.
"It's alright, liebe," Kurt assured.
"He looks like an animal," Lorna whispered a bit too loud.
"Beast," Hank corrected. "Animal is a Muppet."
Lorna flushed and looked down at her shoes.
"Well." Hank cleared his throat and stood upright. "I've got a few people here that have been dying to meet you, Lorna. I'd be delighted if you'd follow me."
"It's okay," Kurt said to her. "I'll go with you."
"You better," she mumbled.
Hank led them through the facility and into an examination room. Moira, Forge and Peter were waiting within. Hank motioned for Lorna to make herself comfortable on the table and Kurt lifted her onto it. Lorna shifted on the padded table and grimaced at the crinkling sound that the sterile paper sheet made beneath her.
"Now, you know Peter already, don't you?" Hank asked.
Lorna nodded her head.
"But I've got a couple of new people I'd like to introduce you to," Hank continued. "There's Dr. MacTaggert, she's in charge of this entire operation and Mr. Forge, an inventor."
"Mister?" Forge smirked.
"Let him carry on," Moira urged.
"Do you know why we brought you here, Lorna?" Hank asked.
Lorna shrugged. "You need me."
"Yes we do," Hank replied. "Desperately."
"Because of your mutant abilities, dear," Moira cut in. "Peter's hurt and we need your help."
"My help?" Lorna narrowed her eyes. "What could I do?"
"That's what we'd like to find out," Moira replied. "Preliminary tests have shown that your mutant ability has to do with magnetism."
Lorna shook her head. "No, Magneto does that. I want wings like Mr. Worthington."
"And I want a body like Heidi Klum," Hank muttered.
Moira slapped Hank in his arm. "You behave, Henry. This is serious."
"We don't always get to decide things about ourselves," Kurt told the girl. "Did you decide that you wanted to have green hair? I know I didn't decide I wanted yellow eyes."
"No," Lorna said. "But copycat powers are stupid."
"That's where you're wrong," Kurt replied. "That's God's will. He gave you those abilities for a reason. Maybe for something greater than I can even imagine."
"But anything I can do, Magneto can too," Lorna said.
"Not true." Kurt tapped a finger against her nose. "Because he doesn't have your heart."
"Okay." Lorna sighed. "What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing too difficult," Moira said. "Just a little test."
Hank placed a screw next to the girl. "I want you to try and move that. No hands, no feet, no teeth or anything else physical involved."
"How?" Lorna asked.
"That's a good question," Hank murmured.
"Have you had any headaches recently?" Moira asked. "I know many mutants suffer a series of migraines before their powers emerge."
Lorna shook her head.
"Well, how did you know how to use your powers, Hank?" Moira asked.
"That's not a fair question," Hank replied. "My strength and agility is just augmented. My intelligence is higher than the average person's. There was nothing extra I had to learn."
"When I first discovered that I was a mutant, it was by accident." For someone who rarely chose to speak, Peter Rasputin spoke with a striking baritone. "My little sister was about to get run over by a runaway tractor. I panicked and put myself between the tractor and her."
"And it just happened?" Hank asked.
"I screamed and braced myself for the impact," Peter said. "The next thing I can remember is looking at a destroyed tractor."
"So, you were able to transform at will after that?" Moira asked.
"Well, no." Peter blinked. "After that I had to be very relaxed so I could concentrate. It was like a weak, unused muscle."
Forge laughed, but Hank noticed an irritated tick along the other man's brow line. The Cheyenne man bent down to be eye to eye with Lorna. "Look at me," he said. "I want you to ignore everyone else. They don't exist. Just concentrate on me and my voice. Okay?"
"Okay." Lorna glanced over at Kurt. "They're still here."
"Lorna, don't look at them," Forge said. "Look at me. I need you to concentrate."
Nothing happened.
"I'm trying!" Lorna insisted.
"This may take a while," Moira said.
"So..." Kurt trailed off.
"So," Hank replied.
"Where is Logan anyway?" Kurt asked. "He said he had found a pub here that would be up to my standards."
"I'll be honest," Hank replied. "I haven't been keeping up with Logan. I've had too much work inside the facility."
"Last I checked, he was out having a smoke," Moira said.
"I'll go try to track him down," Kurt said.
Outside, Logan decided he liked Scotland. MacTaggert's facility was on a cliff overlooking the ocean and he could appreciate the smell of the salt air. Of course Logan was smoking and the thick cigar smoke tended to overpower any other scent. It made him feel a little human.
If he felt like getting philosophical, he supposed that there was more to his cigars than his reputation. Hell, Kojak was a lollipop sucking badass, Logan was fairly certain that the majority of Xavier's school would still be terrified of him if he traipsed about in a pink tutu. Maybe more so.
As shaky as his memory was, occasionally Logan had a random flash of something. Hearing a ragtime tune would make him smile although he couldn't place why, the smell of a wood stove made him upset and whenever February rolled around he would imagine plum blossoms of all things. None of it made any sense, but that coupled with an extensive physical from Xavier's pointed to that Logan had lived too long.
So he smoked. Maybe that way he'd be able to offset his healing factor and one day die. He couldn't help but think about what would happen if he lived to see people blow up the planet or to experience the sun go supernova. Logan could only hope he'd die, instead of floating around in space, his body knitting itself back together in time for the newly formed black hole to tear it apart again.
He put the cigar out and tossed it over the precipice. That was one good thing about Xavier and his school. All the prepubescent angst distracted Logan from his own thoughts. Only a week ago, little Jamie Madrox fell out of bed while he slept and the impact caused his body to duplicate; the duplicate carried out a romance with Theresa Rourke that ended with a heartbroken seven year old girl when Jamie inevitably reabsorbed his clone. Never a dull moment.
"When did you get here?" He asked, not bothering to look at the man who joined him.
"I took the first flight I could out of Cairo," Scott said.
Logan's nose twitched. Fearless leader smelled off. "Oh?"
"Look, we..." Scott shifted uncomfortably. "We need to talk."
"Talk?" Logan narrowed his eyes. "About what?"
Scott swallowed, looked up and hit Logan with an optic blast.
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