Ancient Writings

A 4-post collection

Fanfic Time: Non Compos Mentis, part 4

Continued from yesterday, concluding today:

  “We’re headed out, Professor.”

  “Just a minute, the five of you. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  As a group, they trooped into the library, where a hooded figure waited in the shadows.

  Sara threw a vulcan salute. “Greetings.”

  “This is Kurt Wagner. He arrived late last night from Germany.”

  “Oooh… [How’s the weather over there, when you left?]”

  Kurt shied behind the Professor.

  “Yo, it’s okay,” soothed Todd. “We don’t bite.”

  “Unless the interested party requests it, no?” Sara jibed.

  Scott offered his hand. “Ignore those two. They have a habit of being annoying. Scott Summers. Pleased to meet you.”

  Kurt shrank away.

  “It’s all right, Kurt. You’re among friends, here,” soothed the Professor.

  Sara breathed, “Oh… wow…” as Kurt took his hand out of his pocket.

  She was grinning by the time he shyly put his hood down. “You are so totally awesome!” Sara shrieked. “I mean, I was theorising physical adaptation may be a consequence of the X-gene, but– WOW! Did you change? Was it rough? Or don’t you want to talk about it? Does your family know? Did they get upset? Have your metabolic ne–mmf mrrf mffl.”

  “Try breathin’ between questions, yo,” said Todd, owner of the muffling hand over Sara’s mouth. “We is how we is an’ none of us can help it, a'ight?”

  “Mmmrf.”

  “At least save the questions until the dude’s over jet lag.” Todd grinned and shook the fuzzy, tridactyl hand. “Name’s Todd. Sara’s kinda from the planet Nerdtron, if y'know what I’m sayin’.”

  “Sort of,” Kurt allowed.

  “One of my friends said it best,” said Sara, shaking his hand. “I have an elliptical, near-reality orbit.”

  “Ah,” Kurt managed. “I usually host rude questions within the first week. You can ask anything you like.”

  For the first time in forever, Wanda appeared interested in a male. “Does that fur go *all* the way over?”

  “And that’s one of the ones I don’t answer,” he grinned. “My apologies, fraulein, but intimate company only should know the answer.”

  “You’re good with numbers, Sara dear…”

  “No. Not in this instance.”

  “What?”

  “Every being has the right to their lines in the sand. Or have you forgotten the Pink Room?”

  “You swore you’d never tell.”

  “And I keep my word.”

  Wanda backed down, looking over Kurt like she was evaluating him.

  “Just because he’s covered in fur doesn’t mean he’s a pet or a toy, Wanda dear,” Sara warned. “We made other promises, too, as you recall.”

  Now she glared at Sara. “You have no power over me.”

  “This I remind you of your power over your*self*.”

  The air crackled with unsaid things. Then Wanda relaxed. “Fine,” she said. “I always wanted to try a normal relationship.”

  “So did I,” murmured Todd.

  The meeting broke up as meetings do, with some recalling urgent errands and others noticing the time. They had days planned and things to do.

  “I sense a long story,” said Kurt.

  “You’re right. It *is* a long story. One that’s not mine to tell.”

  *

  Lance was good at coming up with Instant Plans. Haivng a girl who could literally walk right through his problems was something of a Godsend. Having that girl be his secret crush was a bonus. They shared a secret. He had an ‘in’.

  And then someone spoke who wasn’t there. “Observing one’s love from afar can border on stalker-creepy… but using them for your own profit? Tisk. Tisk. Hardly the cornerstone of a stable relationship.”

  He had to triangulate. Balled a fist. “Who said that?”

  A kiss on his cheek, and like the Cheshire Cat, it appeared grin first. “Hello, Mr Alvers. You are correct in that you’re not the only one who’s… special. Alas your genius falls over when it comes to treating your intended with due care and diligence.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Sara Louise Adrien,” it offered a hand. “Miracle worker.”

  “And what kind of miracle will get me the tests before they’re handed out?”

  “You’re asking the wrong question, Mr Alvers. The right question is: What kind of miracle will get me -that is, *you*- away from ever having to acquire them in the first place?”

  “What’s your angle?”

  “New foster home. Classy digs. The very best of extra-curricular activities including training your abilities for the best results.”

  “I asked what your *angle* was?”

  “I thought I was telling you…”

  “What do *you* get out of it?”

  “Nothing much. I’m already in trouble for stowing away on the jet…”

  “So what’s the catch?”

  “*Ah*. Yes. Well, I thought it was obvious. With a chance to reform comes the necessary obligation to actively *try* and reform. If Todd can turn his -ah- nefarious side to good works, why not you?”

  “You’re the second person to make this kind of offer…”

  “Was she scary-creepy about it?”

  “Uh. Yeah.”

  “Grey eyes, red hair? Blue?”

  Lance felt the blood drain from his face. “What do you know?”

  “She’s one of our -ah- opposite force. Goes by the name of Mystique. Shapeshifter, assassin, political saboteur… you get the idea. We ran up against her when she tried to seduce Todd to her side. She’s very… practiced, at the seduction. She’ll sell you poison as sugar and watch you take it with a smile.”

  “*She* said you guys were only going to use me.”

  “For varying definitions of 'use’… perhaps. But she *is* stretching the truth to the snapping point. We’re offering *you* a chance to use your*self* for the betterment of everybody.”

  “And who decides what’s 'better’ for everyone?”

  It grinned. “Now *that’s* a thinking question. Bravo.” Its hands faded in and out of view as it clapped. “And the answer is: it’s your choice. Once you learn to start thinking about and caring for everyone.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Take this advance test copy thing as a for-instance,” it said. “Short term, you profit monetarily and all your customers are happy, right?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Now spin forward to next year. Your customers are out of their depth in classes they haven’t earned the right to be in, their possible futures tank as a direct result and they will inevitably blame *you* and seek retribution.”

  “And I’ll deal with 'em,” Lance made the earth tremble.

  “You can’t deal with all your problems that way.”

  “Watch me,” he told it as he stalked away.

  *

  Jean found her by her crowded mind before she saw her. “Serves you right for stowing away,” she said. “Cheer up. You can’t save everyone.”

  “Well, the Professor’s paperwork gambit is tenuous at best. He’s almost 18. It won’t fly.”

  “C'mon. You can help me with Kitty Pryde. I think I tried the wrong tack.”

  “Let me guess. Freaked out an already terrified teen with your spooky psi-powers?”

  “Um…”

  Sara sighed. “Fine. Let me have a go.”

  *

  “With a rolly poly gammon and spinach…”

  Kitty shrieked.

  “Ah, you can see me.,” the tall, thin creature beside her grinned. “Took a while. Either I’m getting worse or you were pre-occupied. Please tell me it was the latter?”

  “I… was kinda thinking a lot.”

  A sigh of almost comical relief. “Good. When your power is to be ignored by everything organic, one can get rather paranoid about getting worse,” the creature offered a hand. “Sara Louise Adrien. Mutant with the world’s suckiest power.”

  “Try falling through stuff, sometime.”

  “Nightmares about falling through the world?”

  “*Yeah*.”

  “Almost as bad as being a ghost only yourself can see… whilst needing medical attention.”

  “Ow.”

  “Or being in the room with everyone and not being a part of it.”

  Kitty winced. “Can’t you, like, get help or something?”

  “Only so much help possible, alas. My power is still in the latent stage, owing to some trauma. Apparently, the rest may pop out at any random moment. Hence the paranoia.”

  “That *has* to suck.”

  “I can tell you, it makes me glad to have a couple of telepaths around. All one has to do is think for help.”

  “You’re with *her*, aren’t you?”

  “If it’s any help, I stowed away,” said Sara. “People wind up being *warned* about me for some reason. It’s not even like I *deliberately* cause the things that happen…”

  “Um…” Kitty was edging away.

  “Sorry. I ramble. And it’s been almost a year since the last disastrous experiment, anyway.” Sara stopped and smacked herself in the forehead. “Sorry again. I have a near-reality orbit… but I’m definitely not crazy and not dangerous. I’m just… more peculiar than most.”

  “Um…” said Kitty. She adopted the classic take-it-easy pose and was careful not to make any sudden moves. “Oh… kay…?”

  “the point I’m trying and failing to make is… it’s okay to be scared of what’s happening. Really. Every gift comes with its caveats. Perfect memory and the ability to process information at an accelerated rate has left me… skewed… against reality. I’m weird and I’m scary and I’m honestly trying to get better, but…” she sighed, slumping. “Obviously, I’m not doing that well.”

  “Gee, you think?” said Kitty.

  Sara huffed a brief laugh. “IQ of 213 and I still can’t figure out how to talk to people. It’s not logical like math, or chemistry or even narrative… Sometimes? I’d give my right arm to be more like you.”

  “Me? But I’m a dweeb.”

  “You’re a dweeb who can *flirt*. I just scare people.”

  “Next time? Try just, like, *not* mentioning how harmless you are.”

  “See? I can’t figure that out. Why would the truth scare people?”

  “it’s not exactly what you say, okay? It’s the way you say it.”

  “Really?”

  And Sara got her chatting. By the time Kitty was home, she’d almost forgotten why she was scared about the whole mutant thing. She was not there to be tempted by the attentions of chance into doing wrong. There was an earthquake at her old school. One of Lance’s friends was crushed by falling debris. Lance saw it happen.

  It changed him.

  *

  Punishment detail is very rarely viewed as an opportunity for Zen reflection. Sara was the only one so far to accompany thankless tasks with a carefully chosen koan or ritual breathing or both.Which was why Logan found it off to discover her grunting in concealed distress.

  “Allergic to the soap?” he asked. It happened a lot with Treefrog. Never hurt to eliminate the possibility.

  “No. I’ve developed something of a rash, Mr Logan.” She flexed, scratching her back and grimacing. “I’m trying not to let it bug me, but… argh…”

  Logan turned her around, inspecting the vast acreage between her tube top and the short shorts. There was a spreading redness with raised hives and blisters beginning in the middle of it. “How long?”

  “26 hours.”

  He felt her head. Cool to the touch. “Been hungry?”

  “Not noticeably so. Thirsty, on the other hand…” Tallwater gestured vaguely at a small pyramid of empty water bottles.“

  "Tired?”

  “No.”

  “Bone-aches?”

  “Why are we running through the Manifestation Checklist?”

  “Because it looks a hell-load like it, Darlin’.” He picked her up wholesale and began marching for the infirmary. “Punishment’s on hold, yer comin’ with me.”

  _That may have to wait, Logan,_ the Professor 'said’. _Cerebro has detected a dangerous mutant in distress._

  Which meant the whole team went, in costume, and ready for anything.

  *

  {Bamf!}

  “What the–?”

  {bleargle} “Hokay… mental note: never grab a teleporter unawares…”

  Rogue turned, fists ready, to confront someone who was fading in and out of view. “Who are you? Why are y'all huntin’ *me*?”

  “Hunting? We came to help…”

  “[Irene said you were hunters… I speak German?]”

  “Kurt speaks German. You’ve taken his skills and memories. I’m guessing by now it’s a little crowded upstairs? I’d like to help.”

  “Stay away from me!”

  The tall, androgynous thing in the simple black jumpsuit waved her hands. “Not going to hurt you. Promise. Just… listen to my proposal.”

  “Ah’m listenin’…”

  “Part of my ability is the knack of processing vast amounts of information very quickly. I also happen to have some experience with mental partitioning. If you take my skills and memories… I could help you sort out the mess.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “My most dominant power is the ability to be ignored; the illusion of me fading from view is caused by your eyes failing to look *at* me. It can get vexing, at times.”

  “And… what do *you* get out of it?”

  “You took Todd. It may be the only way some part of me gets to spend any time with him at all.”

  “But… neither of you will remember it.”

  “I know. I still find the concept comforting.”

  Marie thought hard about that one. Wanting what wasn’t possible to such a large extent that knowing a portion of it actually existed was *comforting*… despite hoe far it was removed from the Wanter.

  That had to hurt worse than just not touching.

  Marie reached out to touch her outstretched hand… and at the last second, she seized it like a drowning person’s last hope.

  _Oh my goodness, I forgot to tell her about that annoying rash…_ Sara looked out through Marie’s eyes and watched herself crumple. _Oh._ She looked around inside her host’s mindscape. So much confusion. She rolled up her sleeves and set to it, untangling threads of intermixed personas and ravelling them into separate areas.

  In the process of untangling, she had Marie 'build’ The Hotel Infinity in her head. A place for all her absorbed people to be stored. Marie invented a bellhop to help with the emotional baggage and a Concierge a heck of a lot like Basil Fawlty.

  _Your nerd side is showing,_ teased the echo of Sara.

  _Go pack yourself away,_ 'said’ Marie.

  *

  She was a lot more 'together’ when Raven talked her into joiing the Brotherhood. Her Inner Sara spotted some flaws in the X-men that Marie/Rogue met. Yet she decided to stick with the Brotherhood… because someone needed to keep tabs on them.

  Rogue would pass coded messages to Sara’s locker whenever she had the chance.

Fanfic Time: Non Compos Mentis, part 3

Continued from yesterday:

  Sara ducked around the corner and contacted the Professor.

  “Trouble *again*, Sara?”

  “Heap big bad juju,” she said. “And I suspect he’s a mutant like me.”

  “Oh?”

  “There’s certain physiological anomalies the average eye would miss,” she said. “He’s jumpy as all get-out, poor thing.”

  “Tread *very* carefully. I’ll send Logan by, later, with the essentials.”

  *

  He

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Fanfic Time: Non Compos Mentis, part 2

Continued from yesterday:

  “Sara isn’t ready for this kind of interview,” warned Doctor Philips. “She has a history of violent episodes and something like this might set her off.”

  “We’ll be careful,” said Stabler.

  “Her delusion about the rape would only receive justification if you mention the case you’re working on.”

  “She was raped, too?”

  “No, she’s still a virgin,” he answered.

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Fanfic Time: Non Compos Mentis, part 1

This must have happened during a blackout, but it’s been so long that I don’t remember writing it. Joy.

Anyway, now that I’ve finished transcribing it, here it is in all its unfinished glory(under the cut):

Disclaimer: X-Men: Evolution belongs to the Warner Brothers, Marvel, and anyone who owns them. Possibly Disney. Sara Louise Adrien and this story are mine. All cameos belong to their cameo owners. Please respect this poor author and don’

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