Disclaimer: The X-Men characters, and all
other recognizable characters are copyright to Marvel Entertainment
Group. No copying, distributing or editing of this material is permitted
without the express permission of the creator, K-Nice. Thanks to Smoot
for betaing and giving me the courage to post this.
Premise: Each of the X-Men react to Bastions violation
of the mansion
© K-Nice 1999
I would be lying if I claimed not to feel it. The pain and loss that
echoes through this house. He left nothing unmarred, especially not
the Professor's office.
This is where he shut the voices off in my head, this is where he
taught me back when I was his first and only student.
This office came to embody control, restraint in the face of great
power. I picture it in my mind every time I reach out to use my powers.
Now all I have to look to is this emptiness.
It's gone. It's all gone. There's nothing left.
I've lived in this house since I was 14, and I've been a super-hero
for just as long. Now there is nothing to show for it. Just four empty
walls and a hollow echo.
It's like I was never even here.
The Danger Room was the place I went to remember.
I survived the Siege Perilous, Kwannon, the Crimson Dawn, by being
able to remember that once upon a time things were different. He took
all the programs, though I doubt he can run them.
No one will ever know that I spent hours playing dress up like I
was really Elizabeth Braddock, poor little rich model, all over again.
All the mirrors showed my true face.
When the darkness crept up, when I wanted to surrender to the night,
I would just look into my old fact, my own face and light came back.
What can I do now?
Pictures of Mariko.
The things that made me a man instead of an untamable berzerker.
I ain't gonna go feral just 'cause I ain't got them no more.
But it will be harder to keep the beast at bay.
My plants. I was a goddess to them, at least. I brought them life,
gave them sun and rain and shade. They were my kingdom, and by the
Bright Lady, I shall miss my benevolent reign over them.
They are dead, like the desert, like the Morlocks. Like this house.
The loser stole the silverware. This was where the curio stood, and
there was the china cabinet. the oak sideboard stood here. the dining
table was solid cherry. All the chairs are gone too.
No more linen table cloth, no more silver napkin rings. No more family
My parents rarely ate with me, preferring to use the time in business
meetings or at the theater. This room is where I first experienced
a family dinner, with the Professor saying grace and us kids bickering
over who ate the last roll. Those meals held me together, held us
together as a team.
Now, will we go our separate ways?
He took everything. All mah stuffed animals, even the large panda
bear with the hold in his side. The hole were Ah used to hide mah
Ah need my diary. Ah wrote down my self in there. Mah favorites,
mah first times, mah worsts. How can Ah tell who Ah am without it?
How can Ah know whether it's me that likes Kiwi-Lime Surprise or one
the fragments floating around in mah mind?
My old uniforms were in a box in the closet. Pictures of mah family
were on the desk, and mah favorite of me and my dad at my first little
league game was on the wall. I don't really need the uniforms, although
they were nice for remembering were I've been. I can always get more
pictures of the family, and there are tons of pictures of mah dad
and me in mah mom's album back home.
What I want back is mah wallet, where I kept pictures of Doug and
Illyana, tickets from a Lila Cheney concert, the program from mah
Daddy's funeral, the paycheck stub from the first time a worked the
mines. What would Bastion want with stuff like that? Why couldn't
he have left just those things, things that don't matter to anyone
Empty like my memories. Bastion has given this house amnesia. Where
are the answers I was here searching for? They're not here anymore.
And I'm beginning to doubt that they ever were.
Speechless. No words express this. Empty, wasted years learning all
those words and now they are useless.
I didn't mind spending my time cut off from the world in my lab because
I always knew that, in the end, it would be worth it. I'm a blue-furred
beast, due to my own misguided arrogance, and that is the only thing
I have to show for my entire scientific career. My Nobel Prize is
in a safe-deposit box in town. Of course, the keys are gone now.
Everything's gone now.
I'm nervous, walking around through the rooms. Deathly quiet, my
footsteps don't even echo. I clutch my side a move along with my hand
on the wall. The boat house is bare. floor to ceiling, pillar to post.
All the hopes, all the dreams, all the plans, ripped out like rotten
carpet. I look in the bathroom, just in case he left it.
Of course not.
We always take off our rings we when go on missions. She puts hers
on a chain around her neck and I leave mine in the medicine cabinet
where I won't forget to put it back on.
So, how do I tell Jean that I took off my wedding ring so my gloves
would fit and it was stolen by a megalomaniac bent on genetic cleansing?
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