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MARVEL COMIC FANFICTION PAGES
MARVEL COMIC FANFICTION PAGES
Welcome to the MARVEL FANFICTION PAGES. The board is only for posting and discussing stories, fanfiction, based on characters portrayed in Marvel Comics.
http://www.geocities.com/carlajanep/Erika/EEpart00.html

Subject: Welcome


Author:
Erika
[Edit]

Date Posted: 15:38:28 04/07/01 Sat

Welcome to the Marvel Fanfiction Pages, where all general stories related to characters as depicted in the pages of Marvel Comics are posted, displayed, discussed and celebrated.

There are two simple rules:
a. No flames.
b. Respect your fellow comic book fan.

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Subject: The Mutant Hunter (X-Men, humour, 1/1)


Author:
Adrian Tullberg
[Edit]

Date Posted: 19:23:09 07/28/02 Sun

The Mutant Hunter
by Adrian Tullberg.

***

Ext - Morning - Outside

CUT TO a blonde man wearing a khaki t-shirt and shorts, and an expression that could be described as friendly if the rest of him wasn't near-violently energetic.

STEVE
G'Day! I'm Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter! On this special edition, we're going to be exploring the habitat and habits of the most intriguing animal; the Mutant!

The shot WIDENS to show Steve in a large woodland area

STEVE (cont'd)
Known as the Homo Superior, each mutant is surprisingly different, thus home to many different habitats. That's why it's important for each one to be taken to it's home as quickly as possible, otherwise the whole species could be wiped out. It's my aim to capture a mutant, and take him or her to their native home as quickly as possible.

Steve hunkers down behind a bush, and speaks in a hushed tone.

STEVE
Now, in this preserve in Whinchester County, New York, many mutants have gathered, having gotten lost from their home, and settling down here. So it's a good place to find ...

Steve stops, and the camera PANS over to focus on a small, dark haired man, wandering around a clearing.

STEVE (whispering)
Oh, what - a - beauty. This is a prime example of the Canadious Feralus, or the Wolverine. Very angry, can be found in the vicinity of beer, redheads, and according to some sources on the Internet, nearly legal Asian teenagers. Now normally, he'd be able to sniff out us in no time flat, so it's a good thing that we've put a little something nearby, that'll keep him occupied until we get a little closer.

The man in the clearing stops suddenly, and looks down at his foot.

WOLVERINE
Oh for CHRIST's SAKE!

He HOPS over to a nearby rock, sits on it, and starts cleaning his shoe with a stick.

WOLVERINE (cont'd)
If I find the mutt that left this ...

STEVE sneaks behind WOLVERINE while the mutant is occupied, then JUMPS on his back.

WOLVERINE
WHAT THE ... !

WOLVERINE tries to throw off STEVE, but hangs on, hog tying the mutant with practiced efficiency.

STEVE
Crikey, this one was tough!

WOLVERINE
GET OFF ME YOU FREAK!

STEVE
Settle down, mate! Now, as we can see here, this is a prime example of the species.

WOLVERINE
I'LL TURN YOU INTO A PRIME CUT IF YOU DON'T ...

STEVE quickly pulls down WOLVERINE's pants to the knees.

WOLVERINE
ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR ...

STEVE
As you can pretty plainly see, this is definitely a male.

WOLVERINE
YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BE ONCE I'M FINISHED WITH YOU!

STEVE
Now, let's get this one on the plane so we can ... Terri?

The camera turns to TERRI as she stares at the exposed WOLVERINE, mouth open, eyes glazed.

The shot cuts to a bound WOLVERINE lying on the side of the road, a black bag on his head. His movements indicate he's nearly gotten out of his ropes.

STEVE (OS)
Now, here in beautiful Canada, we've returned the Wolverine as close as possible to his native habitat.

WOLVERINE rips free, tearing off his bag witha FERAL ROAR.

WOLVERINE
WHEN I FIND YOU IRWIN, I'LL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEART OUT AND MAKE YOU EAT IT!

STEVE (OS)
As you can see, he's got a bit of a temper!

WOLVERINE checks himself, finding his wallet missing.

WOLVERINE
Better phone Chuck ... get a ride home ...

WOLVERINE looks around - the camera widens on a BAR near the roadside, called THE RED HEAVEN.

Walking to the establishment, WOLVERINE heads to a large bald man painting some woodwork.

WOLVERINE
'scue me ...

MAN
Come about the job?

WOLVERINE tooks where the man is indicating - the CAMERA zooms in on a sign saying 'WANTED; BOUNCER'.

JEFF
I'm Jeff. It pays fifty bucks an hour after tax.

WOLVERINE
Really? I mean ...

JEFF
Lot of fights. At least two involving knives on a slow night.

WOLVERINE (interest perking)
Still ... what's the catch?

JEFF
Also have to oil down the girls for the wrestling.

WOLVERINE
Bub, perhaps we have a miscommunication of the word 'catch'.

JEFF
Nymphos, the lot of them. Sounds good in theory, but the guy who had this job last had to be taken to the hospital for rehydration. He'll be in a wheelchair for the next month. It'll take someone with ... I don't know, superhuman stamina and recovery to keep up with half a dozen double-D redheads.

WOLVERINE (trying to clarify)
Redheads? All of them?

JEFF
Yup. And free beer.

WOLVERINE has a blank expression, trying to process this.

JEFF
Why not try this job for a week?

JEFF leads the unusually silent WOLVERINE inside the bar.

STEVE (OS)
As you can see, he's much happier inside his native environment. Now, join up with me next week, as we try to relocate other mutants to their natural homes ...

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Subject: '...if he be worthy...'


Author:
Adrian Tullberg
[Edit]

Date Posted: 00:38:25 04/10/01 Tue



'...if he be worthy...'

by Adrian Tullberg.

Synopsis: There's a new God of Thunder, but he's not anybody you'd expect...

Dedicated to those 'What If' comics. Personally, I loved them, the best excuse for published writers to do really fun things like major character death and continuity buggery. Face it, you simply can't do that with major publications.

***

"THOU SHALT FACE THE FURY OF THOR!"

"GODDAMNIT!" The Unstoppable Juggernaut leaned away from the God of Thunder's swing. "WOULD IT KILL YA TO SPEAK LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE?!?!"

It was not a good day for Cain Marko. In a fit of boredom, he had intended to walk to Winchester County, and beat up on the X-Men.

Marko had intended to stop for a quick drink first... but one of his old sparring partners, the Mighty Thor, had dropped down from the sky, not even having the decency of letting him wet his whistle first, and started his attack.

The Juggernaut really wanted to lay into Chuck's muties, not blondie. Not this weird talking longhaired freak.

There was something about Thor that really made Marko's blood boil. The arrogance? The method of speech which defied conventional syntax or definition? The Juggernaut, unused to complex self-analysis, decided he hated this weirdo and left it at that.

***

Alfredo Giovanni was watching the battle at the edge of the crowd. Early twenties, thin moustache that meant to lend sophistication but gave away an air of stupidity like it was going out of style.

The assassin was in the crowd, wearing a black trenchcoat and a cold, calculating expression. Giovanni was not a target he'd usually bother stalking and hunting down like he'd been doing just now, but the small time hood had shown up near where the killer was buying coffee and a bagel, and decided to take him out on a whim.

So far the criminal hadn't seen the killer who was edging towards him with an unerring finality.

***

Marko charged Thor, knocking him to the ground. The Juggernaut usually didn't have much of a strategy beyond plowing into his enemies until he battered them down, but a germ of an idea was forming in his head.

The God of Thunder wasn't as strong as him... but that damn hammer hit harder than anything else that had hit him before. If he wanted to win... and Marko was as determined as only the terminally pissed off can be... he had to separate his opponent from the hammer.

Moving closer to the Thunder god, Marko faked a punch at his head while stamping his right foot. The enormous reverberation staggered Thor... as well as shattering every window on the block, and stumbling all the onlookers... giving the Juggernaut enough of an opening to launch a powerful uppercut, with the heel of his palm the terminal impact point.

Thor's hammer was jarred from his grasp, soaring into the air in a high arc. The God looked up to catch sight of his weapon, to will it to his hand...

... and the Juggernaut kicked him with a leg as thick as an oak trunk, sending the diety into a nearby minivan.

59...

58...

***

The assassin followed his target. The Italian-American had seen him, and wisely started running. Unwisely, he'd left the relative safety of the crowd, and the police that were keeping the crowd away from the supers fighting, and headed into the alleyways.

The assassin knew the alleyways, quickly estimating where his target would end up, and waited in ambush... when he heard the quick slapping of expensive leather loafers, he quickly stepped out of hiding, and plunged a long steel stiletto into the target's right eyeball, experience lending incredible speed to his actions.

The blade pierced halfway through the brain, the victim gurgling, the body twitching, still trying to cling to life despite the brain's destruction. The assassin watched the death tremors of the now cooling body, confirming his kill.

Pulling out his stiletto from his victim's body, he heard a high-pitched whistling which was oddly familiar... the sound of a heavy object falling from a great height...

... the assassin quickly positioned himself inside a doorway a split second before the impact. The force of the collision jarred every bone in his body and dislodged masonry around the block.

***

19...

18...

The Thunder God was trying to push the Juggernaut away from him, but the behemoth was continually pressing his attack with a savage, rapid series of blows.

Thor suddenly grappled the Juggernaut across the shoulders, trying to get an instant of leverage...

10...

9...

The Juggernaut peeled his battered body away, and lifting him up with one massive hand, slammed him into the pavement

6...

5...

Juggernaut held up the dazed hero for a final blow...

4...

3...

...drawing his arm back, lining up...

2...

Thor felt his body warp, buckle downwards into that of dead Paramedic, Jake Olsen...

...just as Juggernaut's fist impacted.

The crowd gave a collective gasp as the hyper-powered fist plowed through the human skull with a wet squelch.

Juggernaut saw the body and frowned. Damned idiot... shouldn't have gotten in the way. The massive figure absently wiped off his hand while looking around. "Where's blondie?"

***

Opening his eyes, the assassin moved from his hiding spot, and saw a crater not ten feet from where he was. A nearby dumpster had shielded him from a chunk of concrete which would have pulverised his legs.

If it was an artillery shell, why hadn't it gone off?

The assassin headed towards the impact crater. If it was an unexploded warhead, maybe he could disarm it... his military service, among with other things, had given him an expertise with explosives. Despite his grisly work, he didn't want innocents hurt...

It wasn't a artillery shell.

A hammer. Large one.

In fact...

The assassin searched his memory... he'd seen it, in the hands of the self-proclaimed Thunder God, Thor. Intrigued, the assassin scrambled down the crater, then reached for the hammer. Might be useful...

The killer touched the weapon...

...pleasure/pain/heat/cold/fire/current/flowing water/darting/swarming/growing /flying/screaming...

... the sensation flew up the handle, through his arm, and insinuated itself into every cell in his body. The assassin was too surprised to speak, to scream, to react in any way shape or form...

The sensation died down, leaving a sense of energy and strength. The assassin noted absently that he was still holding the hammer. He lifted it up, appreciating the weight of the weapon.

Then he noticed his body.

Somehow, he'd grown half a foot. Grown wider across the shoulders as well. His clothes had adjusted to fit his new girth.

The assassin decided to spare the whyfores and howcomes for later. The owner might come looking for it...

... the owner had been fighting the massive creature known as The Juggernaut. The sounds of superfights usually filled whole boroughs, but there was dead silence now.

The hero of this fight had been disarmed, now the fight was over...

... a premonition filling the assassin, he hefted the hammer, and headed back to where he remembered the fight taking place...

***

The cops were trying to keep the onlookers away from the Juggernaut. All they could realistically do.

Marko had entered the bar he'd been trying to get into in the first place, and was now leaving, downing his seventh keg.

The supervillian didn't like killing, despite his carefully cultivated bad-ass image. Too messy, and a bitch to deal with in court. Better to beat the tar out of them, humiliate them beyond belief and either have them stand as a broken testimonial to your power, or come back again to get their ass whipped again.

And it this wasn't even his fault, either. He was pretty sure he could get a good Self-Defence issue out of the Thunder God attacking him... wherever he'd got to. And he didn't even know this guy who'd he'd pulped...

A massive impact lashed across his shoulders.

The Juggernaut was knocked over by the blow. He immediately started getting up... what the hell was going on?

He got a good look at the man who hit him... six foot, well built, seemed to be forty-something...

Wearing black.

He started walking over to him, and the Juggernaut noted that he seemed to have a white symbol on his chest.

A skull.

A white stylised skull on an all black uniform.

And he was hefting Thor's hammer.

***

Frank Castle, aka the Punisher, looked at the bloodied fist of the Juggernaut, and the crushed skull of the corpse beside him. His eyes narrowed when he saw the paramedic's uniform on the body.

He suddenly started walking, quickly towards the Juggernaut.

Marko wondered how this guy had managed to knock him over, but wasn't particularly worried by this human's approach. "You're that guy... the Punisher? I've always wanted to meet a guy who named himself like an S&M joint employee..."

The Punisher kicked him in the groin.

In the instant where the Juggernaut's eyes bulged out of his sockets, the Punisher took the hammer in a two-handed grasp, and slammed it across where the bridge of where the nose would be.

The shockwave sent Marko to his knees... by the time between action and reaction, the Punisher had stepped behind the Juggernaut, grabbed the much larger man's left shoulder, and sent the hammer directly into his right kidney. Almost instantly, the ex-marine sent his arms over his opponent's head, latched his fingers into the eyeholes of the Juggernaut's dome-like helmet, and wrenched back.

The dome resisted, but the Punisher felt the give in the metal, and virtually willed the helmet off, the screaming sounds of the alloy reverberating around the area.

The Juggernaut's regenerative abilities eliminated the effects of the attack, and twisted around with all the power in his waist. The Punisher found himself snapped over head, his arm clinging to the half-off helmet in his hand.

Not letting go, the Punisher flipped over, and slammed into the front of the enormous man. The helmet flipped back into place, but the ragged tear under Juggernaut's chin was plainly visible.

The blow knocked all the air out of him, and his shoulder felt like it was a millimetre from dislocation, but the Punisher still clung on, looking up into the giant's face, dangling from his face.

The Juggernaut smiled, relishing the pain he would inflict on this maniac. "You are..."

The Punisher, who never quite got the hang of talking in the middle of combat, slammed his free hand... holding Mjolnir... into Juggernaut's exposed right shoulder, right on a nerve cluster, making the arm now useless.

The Juggernaut concentrated on the pain for a split second, allowing the Punisher to drop to the ground, and slam the hammer on a ninety-degree angle into the top of the dome-like helmet, sheering the device off in one devastating blow. The face of the Juggernaut peered out from a secondary skullcap and mask arrangement he had placed to reduce his vulnerability to mental attacks. Then the Punisher backhanded the exposed chin with the hammer's pommel.

The large man dropped to the ground like a sack of cement. The Punisher immediately wedged his fingers under the cap, and pulled.

The brown metal was peeled away like paper, now exposing red hair and a slow realisation of the danger the Juggernaut was in.

The Punisher's face was emotionless as he raised the hammer high over his head.

***

"Mommy? What's that man doing?"

"He's..." The woman quickly turned her son's head into her shoulder. "...it's nothing honey."

A loud, wet, cracking sound reverberated throughout the suddenly quiet street.

The sound repeated itself with a rapid, methodical rapidity.

The woman didn't turn away, keeping her son's head firmly in her shoulder as the sound continued. Something wet splashed into her face, but she didn't dare move her hands away from her child.

***

One more blow separated the sodden mass of flesh that was his target from the rest of his body.

The Punisher examined his work, his uniform soaked with blood.

He kicked away what was left away from the main mass of the corpse. Satisfied, he turned around, to see two of New York's finest. They had unholstered their revolvers, but weren't pointing them at him.

The Punisher made it a point never to kill honest cops, even went to prison more than once to uphold that principle. But he wasn't above resisting arrest.

The policemen let the man who had killed the Unstoppable Juggernaut walk past, get into their cruiser, and drive away.

***

Work In Progress ...

Please send any and all feedback to atullberg@my-deja.com

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Subject: Scenes from a movie ... (Spider-Man Movie, Parody)


Author:
Adrian Tullberg
[Edit]

Date Posted: 16:49:43 07/19/02 Fri

Scenes from a Movie
by Adrian Tullberg.
***

Created in a fit of boredom.

***

PETER: I read your work, it was ...

NORMAN: Hang on ... you attend this school and you can read?

PETER: Yeah. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a genius.

NORMAN: Then why haven't you applied for a scholarship at some of those schools my dead weight of a son got kicked out of?

COMIC-BOOK GEEKS IN AUDIENCE: Hey! Dafoe! Stick to the continuity!

NORMAN: Okay, mustn't ignore direction from a bunch of pasty wierdoes, I'm just an Oscar-nominated actor.

COMIC-BOOK GEEKS IN AUDIENCE: Damn right!

***

PETER demonstrates his vaunted SPIDER-SENSE, which turns out to be a MATRIX BULLET TIME RIP-OFF which completely fails to work again until the END OF THE FILM.

FOOTBALL JOCK attempts to beat up Peter, who avoids his blows with an acrobatic skill that is somehow forgotten by everyone who witnessed this event.

***

MARY-JANE: I want to ... you know, act.

PETER: Really?

MARY-JANE: Yeah ...

PETER: Can you show me? I mean, right now?

***

PETER: I have hairs all over my now incredibly sticky palms. Just another hammer in the coffin of my social life, isn't it Raimi?

RAIMI: Hey, I thought I better give you something your fans can empathise with.

PETER: Okay! Super powers! Now ... I know ... I'll become a Hollywood action hero, then not only will I keep my aunt and uncle in the luxury they deserve, I'll give Mary-Jane a part in my movies in return for her being my love slave!

COMIC-BOOK GEEKS IN AUDIENCE: No! You go and perform in a wrestling ring!

PETER: Er ... look, lets work something out ... howabout I join my school's basketball team, get a scholarship into a big university, saving my aunt and uncle the expense of putting me through college, and become the only NBA draftee with a doctorate?

COMIC-BOOK GEEKS IN AUDIENCE: NO! WRESTLING! WRREESSSTTTLLINNGGG!

RAIMI: Look, Tobey ... just back away, and do as they say. A lot of them spend time working on computers relating to our credit cards.

PETER: Geez, okay.

***

BEN: Now, lately you beat up the guy who's been giving you wedgies since you started school, and missed one day's chores. Instead of buying you a beer to celebrate your finally growing a pair, I'm going to stomp this emerging adolecent rebellion into the ground right here and now. Remember ... with Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.

PETER: Got it.

BEN: With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.

PETER: Er, Uncle Ben? Officially Registered Genius? I can repeat that phrase in three different languages. I said I got it!

BEN: No, you have to remember this just in case I get shot due to a series of events you could have never predicted, but can easily obsess into a life-long guilt trip. With Great Power ...

PETER gets out of the car, and high-tails it to the wrestling ring.

ANNOUNCER: Hey, I'm Bruce Campbell, friend of the director, drawcard for Evil Dead fans, and celebrity cameo! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN ... THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN!

SPIDER-MAN proceeds to smack down a wrestler but gets stiffed out of the money promised to him.

SPIDER-MAN: Despite the fact I'm strong enough to pick up your desk and give you a splinter enema, I'm going to pass up the chance to display some real irresponsibility with my new powers and wuss out of this office. Don't blame me if you get robbed in the next few minutes.

WRESTLING MANAGER: Like that's gonna happen ...

An ARMED MAN steals the money, and escapes

WRESTLING MANAGER: Damn.

SPIDER-MAN: Hang on ... I could jump down the stairs ... catch that guy before his elevator hits the lobby ... punch him out, get my money, and let the police arrest ...

COMIC-BOOK GEEKS IN AUDIENCE: STICK TO THE PLOT!

SPIDER-MAN: Crap ...

***

JAMESON: Okay! Pictures of Spider Man! Good thing you didn't think of getting a camcorder, getting some footage, and selling it to a news networks for a few grand.

PETER: Actually, I did, but those guys in the audience really scare me.

SUIT IN THE BACKGROUND: Hi, I'm Ted Raimi, borhter of the director! You might remember me from ...

EVERYONE ELSE: PISS OFF!!

***

COMIC-BOOK GEEKS IN AUDIENCE: Katie Holmes and now Kirsten Dunst.

OTHER MALES IN AUDIENCE: Sam Raimi, hallowed be thy name.


***

GOBLIN: We've finally found out who Spider-Man is!

NORMAN: You mean you didn't check under his mask when we gassed him and dragged him up to the rooftop?

GOBLIN: Er ... I thought you were supposed to do that!

NORMAN: No ... you're in charge of evil stuff, remember?

GOBLIN: DO'H!

***

HARRY: My evil, verbally abusive father is dead. Despite suddenly inheriting his company and fortune, and my therapist recommending that I should start planning the party, I'm going to irrationally blame Spider-Man because he brought the body to my house, instead of just dumping it in a river somewhere like everyone else who's guilty of murder.

MARY-JANE: Peter ... you, me, and a bottle of chocolate syrup. Whaddya say?

PETER: Er ... let's be friends on this one, okay?

MOVIE WATCHING AUDIENCE: WHAT????

COMIC-BOOK GEEKS IN AUDIENCE: YES! Don't you see? He's setting the scene for the other girls in his life!

MOVIE WATCHING AUDIENCE: WHAT OTHER GIRLS? Can that geek pick and choose?

COMIC-BOOK GEEKS IN AUDIENCE: He's trying to protect her from the dangers in his life!

MOVIE WATCHING AUDIENCE: The only other guy who knew got a rocket powered knife in his nuts! For Christ's Sake! She's hot! Willing and Waiting! Not to mention stupid enough not to realise that he's the same guy in a red-and-blue suit!

COMIC-BOOK GEEKS IN AUDIENCE: If you just paid attention to continuity ...

MOVIE WATCHING AUDIENCE: OKAY, THAT'S IT!

As the credits start to roll, the rest of the MOVIE WATCHING AUDIENCE proceed to KICK THE LIVING SHIT out of the COMIC-BOOK GEEKS present.

***

Please send any and all feedback to adriantull@urban.net.au

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Subject: DANCING WITH THE BIRDS


Author:
Lori McDonald
[Edit]

Date Posted: 19:50:37 04/08/01 Sun

I got permission from the author to post her story on these pages.

Erika
funhapjoy@yahoo.com

******
DANCING WITH THE BIRDS
******

By Lori McDonald

January, 1996

The birds were dancing in the sky, whirling and looping carefree over the fields, arcing and banking. One moment they'd be gliding mere inches above the grass, the next they'd be dots in the heavens. They were everywhere, flying, singing, dancing.

Archangel didn't notice them. He lay asleep on his stomach in the grass, his metal wings spread to catch the warm sun's rays. They twitched in his sleep while he sunbathed, the individual feathers shifting, but he didn't wake. For him it was a chance to relax, to forget about how the wings were an artifical replacement for his lost original ones, given him by Apocalypse.

Archangel slept, but on his back, the wings moved, feathers shifting and overlapping at the presence of the birds. Paralyzing flechettes aimed at any who came too close, but didn't fire. Not yet.

Under the nearby trees, Betsy Braddock, the telepathic ninja named Psylocke, stared at her lover's body in concern. She knew those wings well, had been carried by them, had felt their metallic warmth wrap around her while she and Warren made love. They'd always been a part of him, leaving her incapable of imagining him without them. But before, he'd always been in control.

Now his wings were different, menacing. They moved on their own, not in response to Warren's dreaming. They seemed almost aware, somehow. Ready to fight and kill. Almost eager to.

Yet they were leaving the birds alone.

Psylocke knelt down, grimacing as healing wounds in her abdomen twinged. She ignored them. They'd hurt a lot worse when she got them. A few aches now were nothing.

Why do I get the feeling they're aware of what's going on around them? She thought. She watched the wings twitch, uncertain for a few more minutes, then made her decision.

I had Kwannon in me for a long time without knowing it. A ninja assasin who could have burst out at any time and killed someone I loved. I know Gambit has something dark in him as well, but he denies it and I have no proof. But you, Warren... I may not give a damn what happens to Gambit, but I love you. We know Apocalypse gave you those wings, and you're afraid he still may have influence over them. But no one's done anything about it.

She looked at the sleeping, blue-skinned, blond haired man and her eyes narrowed. Not anymore, she thought. I'd owe you for saving my life after Sabretooth gutted me, even if I didn't love you. I'm going to find out what drives those wings once and for all.

Betsy concentrated and what appeared to be a butterfly of energy flickered above her head. It was one of the few signs that her telepathic powers were in use. Gently, she reached out with her mind. Not to Warren, but to the silver wings on his back.

-Danger-

Betsy reeled back as the wings snapped up straight, tips pointed towards the sky, hundreds of flechettes bared and ready to launch. They quivered with tension, but Warren slept on, oblivious.

Betsy knelt where those spikes wouldn't be able to hit her and frowned, stroking her chin. Her probe had reached the wings, but there hadn't been anything resembling sentience in there. No consciousness at all. No evil, either, which was a relief. Instead there'd been only instinct, an animal awareness which only recognized danger and reacted to it. To it, everything was a threat, because it had no way to conceive of them as anything else. So the wings stayed at full alert, ready to slice and kill.

But the birds were still left alone.

Why? She wondered. You see them as a threat. I know you do. So why let them live?

She probed again, a little deeper this time. With no psychic shields to keep her out, the wings couldn't stop her, but they shook at her presence.

Betsy felt everything she'd felt before, all the killer instincts, but this time there was more, something deeper that touched the wings with something beyond what they'd been created for. She blinked as she recognized a familiar touch. Then she began to smile.

Warren. You've been so worried your wings were influencing you that you never stopped to think you might be influencing them.

The wings were still ready for battle, urged on one side to kill indescriminately, and on the other not to. The link to Warren was weak though, and the balance tenuous.

Maybe I can do something to strengthen that.

Reaching out with her mind a third time, Betsy linked the wings to a field sparrow darting back and forth above the grass.

For a long, tense minute, there was no effect. Then the wings seemed to relax. The flechettes spread back among the razor sharp feathers. The wings lowered and stretched to the sides, just as the sparrow's were.

Silently, Betsy watched as the great wings dove and banked and soared without moving or waking Warren, all in perfect synchronization with the sparrow. They danced with the tiny bird, innocently and effortlessly, for no other reason than the enjoyment of it.

Suddenly, the sparrow flew directly upwards to join its mate and Betsy giggled as the wings gave a tremendous flap, hauling Warren unceremoniously to his feet, waking him in the process.

"What the hell?!"

Betsy walked out to join him. He was looking upset, his wings, now under his control again, folded into themselves under his shirt.

"They did it again, Betsy. These damned wings..."

She kissed him to quiet him. "I wouldn't worry about it, Warren. I was watching them. They were dancing."

"Excuse me?"

She linked her arm with him. "Well, that's what it looked like. They were flying with the birds, which I think is a marvellous idea."

Warren still seemed to be trying to absorb the idea of his wings dancing. Betsy laughed softly and stood on her toes facing him, looping her arms around his neck.

"Let's fly, Warren, and enjoy the day."

Warren hesitated another moment, then, trusting her judgement, he scooped her into his arms, spread his wings, and flew into the sky.

The birds flew with them, unafraid, looping over and under them. All in a dance Betsy was sure the wings, under the violence, enjoyed as much as they did.

The End-----------------------------------------

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