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Stories by Northlight

On one bright, beautiful morning, the X-Men awaken to face their deadliest foe ever: bad hair.

"Inquiring Minds"
A mysterious figure decides to "tell all" about the secret lives of the X-Men in a bestselling book.

"Just in Time for Christmas"
Gambit is rescued in Antarctica -- by Santa Claus?

"Love and Pain"
Stuck in the "waiting room" between appearances in their respective series, Gambit and Angel (from Buffy the Vampire Slayer) compare notes on their respective problems.

"Reunions and Other Troubles"
The sequel to "Love and Pain," Gambit and Angel escape from Limbo and are reunited with their respective love interests.

"Maybe Just a Little Strange"
The true origin of Wolverine is revealed.

"Nothing More"
In response to Alara Rogers' challenge to kill off one's favorite character, Northlight writes her own version of Rogue's death as a result of Dr. Agee's "cure."

"Of Cooties and Dice"
Rogue, Jean and Storm get a little too involved in their board game.

"One of Those Days"
An evil villain attacks -- and so does Murphy's Law, as the X-Men suffer multiple "insignificant" inconveniences on their way to the battle.

Sitting on the roof, Rogue looks back on what really happened in Antarctica as she tries to avoid the other X-Men.

"Searching for Justice"
A man tries to seek justice for the death of his sister as a result of Dr. Agee's "cure."

A woman named Lindsey, with the unique power of appearing to be whoever someone else wants them to be, meets a frantic woman on the street and walks into another case of mistaken identity.

"Skin Crawl"
A unique take on Rogue's feelings toward her powers.

"Small Problems"
Rogue awakens to the incessantly annoying attempts of a misguided mosquito to get a morning snack.

Realizing the sheer stupidity of fighting in the dead heat of summer, Magneto and the X-Men decide to get slushies together. Since TheAudience still needs to be entertained, the PTB find replacements for the heroes and villain.

"Summer Vacation"
In a follow-up to "Substitutions," the X-Men prepare to go on a real vacation and leave their "replacements" in charge of the Mansion.

"That's What Happens"
Wondering about the practicality of Rogue's skimpy little outfit in UXM 353-4, Northlight writes her version of what could happen if Rogue's not careful...

"The Super Beings Bureau Saga"
A series of short stories about the Super Beings Bureau, someplace all super-powered types have to visit at one point or another.

"The Susan Smith Show"
A series of talk shows in which various super hero-types discuss the issues that affect their lives.

For someone like Rogue, the sense of touch can mean any number of things.

"Untitled Random Mutterings"
A series of vignettes in which Rogue deals with engagement, marriage, parenthood and growing older.

"Watching from a Distance"
We all know how the heroes feel. But how about their parents? This story is from Rogue's mother's perspective, as she watches her daughter grow up through news reports and newspaper headlines.


Web site: Northlight's Page

Note: This is one of those really annoying ideas that just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it <g>. It didn't turn out like I wanted it to, but at least I feel better after having gotten it out (sigh one of these days I'll figure out how to write I story like I want to...)
Anyway, I was thinking about what the X-Men's parents must think when they hear or read about some of things concerning mutants in general or their children in the X-Men.
This is from Rogue's mother's point of view. It isn't great (it really was better in my mind...) and the ending is rather ... well ... not great (I also have to figure out how to write endings that don't suck <g>).
Disclaimer: It's mostly all mine. The rest is Marvel's.

Of all the regrets in my life, there is one that stands out as that which hurts the most. It's a regret that has consumed me, that drives me, that haunts me without cease.

My baby came to me, her face streaked with tears and her green eyes filled with a horrible agony. She clung to be, her small body shaking with horror. I didn't understand then, not until he stormed into the room.

My little girl quaked with terror as he advanced towards us. His voice was angry, enraged, as he towered over us. 'Mutie' he screamed that vile name towards our daughter. She shook harder, and my embrace could do nothing to soothe her.

And still he continued. He voice was harsh and unforgiving as he cursed our child with derogatory, hateful names. She was sobbing, begging for forgiveness and yet he would not relent. Her fear tore at my heart, and her frightened whimpers brought tears to my eyes. But I only sat there, holding her down as her father tore her apart with his words.


God, how I hate that word! For it was that label that finally drew her from my arms and sent her running from our lives.

I didn't go after her, and I curse myself for that weakness. I sat still, my heart aching as her father continued his ranting. He said that it was best that she left. She would only bring trouble. We didn't need a monster in our home.

A monster!

And so, my child disappeared from my life.

My world was empty without her bright smile and her joyful laughter.

And I hated my husband for taking that away from me. What right had he to drive her out of my life!? How dare he!

But as much as I grew to hate him, it was never as much as I hated my own lack of action. I had sat there, watching without complaint as he chased her away.

It is impossible to find the words to express my joy when I first saw my baby again. There was a picture of her in the paper, in an article under the title of "The Mutant Threat." I merely sat there at first, too stunned to move. My eyes were glued to the small figure printed on the page before me.

After that, I scoured newspapers and magazines for any sign of my precious girl. There wasn't a night that passed without me seated in front of the TV watching the six o'clock news for anything that might concern her.

I've watched my daughter grow only through these brief glimpses. And as much as I needed those brief sightings, they made my heart ache. How I wished that I was there to comfort her. I wondered if she was happy. Did she forgive my weakness?

Over the years, I've seen my girl fighting and being attacked by figures that made me tremble. I've read all the reports and seen all the shows that cover the debate about mutants.

And every time I heard of a group, or a law that seeks to suppress and destroy those who are different, terror raced through me. I couldn't bear the thought of my daughter's life being ground out under a wave of mutant hysteria.

But there was nothing that I could do to stop it.

I learned of my daughter's death in the same way that I had followed it.

The article took up the entire front page of the newspaper, the headlines joyously proclaiming "Mutant Outlaws Dead!" A fancy plane in flight consumed by flames, and I have another picture to join my pile.

My daughter is dead.




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