A (relatively speaking, since we’re dealing with mutant hero teens here) typical day in the life of the Evo!X-Men. The twist? Everyone’s the opposite sex. Cue guest cameos by Magneto and the Acolytes and/or Mystique and the Bro– er, Sisterhood. –Josh
Kit Pryde learned to keep his head down around certain times of the month. He, and the other boys in the mansion - Oro, Gene and Rogue - kept on their best behaviour.
Because a houseful of cranky ladies was one thing, but a house full of cranky mutant ladies was a whole ‘nother basket of fish.
He and Rogue put together the sacrificial offering - a virtual mountain of chocolate-chip chocolate muffins - while Oro did the desperate and obsessive tidying up.
At least being a weather warlock had its perks.
{BAMF!}
Mari[1] Wagner was the first down, grabbing a muffin in each hand, one tail, and one foot. “Gruss Gott, I needed these. Danke…”
Rogue got that stunned look that came from telepathic possession and put together a nice tray - with tea - for the Professor. Being a telepath in a house full of PMS-ing mutants was not fun.
It was one of the reasons Gene went camping in the West Wood once a month.
Scotia Summers stumbled into the kitchen, wearing a long shirt and not much else. “Choc'lit 'n’ coffee…”
Rogue dived for the coffee maker. Kit offered the muffin.
“Nmmmf. 'ank 'oo.” Thin spots on the back of her nightshirt betrayed the fact that something had leaked in the night. Which meant that she had had a rough one.
Which meant that her roomie was none too pleased, either. Kit readied another muffin.
Just in time. Eva Daniels in her frumpy flanno’s and some serious crabbiness. “Girl. Just use some damn Diva cups. For the love of sanity.”
“They’re icky,” said Scotia around a mouthful.
“Yeah and leaking every night isn’t?”
Kit, the vegetarian, gagged behind his hand. Such open discussion of monthly bleeding habits and other girl-related TMI was not the sort of thing he was used to. Or wanted. At all.
And, true to form, Ms. Logan marched in with arms bloody and full of fresh meat. She fired up the grille and started things sizzling. “Regain what'cha lost, girls. Ain’t nothin’ better than fresh, rare steak.”
O God, somebody make it stop…
The earth shook. Wait. No. She didn’t mean it like that.
The Sisterhood was attacking. Vivian Tolenski. Pietra Maximova. Frieda Dukes. And Gabrielle Alvers. His sometime girlfriend.
And -yes- they had also bought their psychotic leader Mystique along.
Fabulous.
Just what he needed to top off the morning.
“Give us the chocolate and nobody gets hurt,” hollered Gabrielle.
Those were fighting words.
[1] Mari Wagner being the German equivalent of Jane Smith.
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