Show Class, Have Pride and Display Character

Disclaimers: I do not own the general concept of X-Men Evolution, everyone knows who does and everyone knows I wont make any money from this. I have no money to sue me with anyway so don't waste your time trying to.

Author's note

Okay before I start telling the tales of Ororo, Logan and Remy, I have to let you know that this piece is purely experimental (as is with most AU's in general) and I have no idea about what's going to happen, how it will end, where who will end up and so on. It's a brave attempt at an Evolution AU, or even just and Evolution fiction as I said I'd never write one, but hey, I'm going to give it a go anyway. Any feedback is much welcome (although I find flames a waste of time; if you don't like the story then don't read it: simple) and I will most definitely take into account what you have to say, all of you kind reviewers.

So with that out of the way all I can say it enjoy (I hope).

Telaka

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Darkness everywhere. Save few would have been able to see through the smokescreen of silky black shadows with the naked eye alone but these were her circumstances to work in and she had little case to argue against them. With every step she took she took it cautiously and with amazing care, never daring to put a toe wrong lest she tripped or stumbled noisily and brought unwanted attention to herself.

She had been told no more about this job than to 'improvise' with what the environment offered her. The smudged grey outlines of this foreign territory 'offered' her no more than what was needed, a 3D map of where to put her feet. There was no stray flint lying around for a fire of loose wires to make a spark, nothing. So she would change the rules slightly and improvise with her wits instead.

Her ears perked at the sounds muffled by the dark; a distant rustle, a dying wind, the tortured mew of an old, stray tomcat. Nothing she could hear was of any significance to her mission.

She strained with her eyes to see what shapes the smudged outlines made. Lonely deserted buildings with dark alleyways stitched in between the brick lattices and cracked roads weaving in and out between them were what made up the bulk of this environment. There was the occasional abandoned car or rotted tree but apart from that there was nothing else of importance here that she could make out.

Her nerves began to relax despite herself and her defences lowered with them. The land of Genosha was a hostile one by any standards, but at night she found it no more intimidating than the dusky, merciless streets of midnight Cairo. There seemed little to be on guard of here.

But letting her guard down, no matter how safe the situation seemed to be, was her biggest fault in a situation like this by far.

He forever managed to use this to his advantage much to his joy. With a furtive glance of a smile across his navy blue eyes he moved out from the soiled alleyway that was his observation spot and began to stalk silently and swiftly on carefully placed feet that no more than made the lightest of footsteps. He would be able to take full advantage of this set up and her lack of caution if he just worked carefully.

Idly she flicked her near to knee length silvery white hair behind her back and almost dared to let out a long, tired yawn, but checked herself seconds before she did. She was bored but not completely stupid as to show that her guard was down. Still she could not hide the vibes that she gave off.

Then the thin white hairs that ran down her mocha skin across her arms and neck rose to stand at their tallest, most proud height and she turned as quickly as they stood. But there was no one there. She had been so sure though… She turned back, unnerved now with her defences shot back up. If he wasn't there—

He came from nowhere, his full weight throwing itself on top of her, toppling her with ease to the harsh, dirty ground that lay below with a heavy thud. She kicked out, for all the good it did and struggled viciously under the heavy weight he pressed on her. He had her pinned firmly to the ground by her wrists as his knee lay on her chest. With that he called a victory for himself.

"Ha! Admit it 'Ro, you suck at this! That's five to me and one to you now."

"Three!" She struggled further but he only tightened his grip.

"One. Admit it Storm, you suck at this. Go on, say it."

"You suck, there!"

If there was one fault Logan held true then it was his constant unchecked habit of always underestimating the young girl that lay beneath him. With a well-placed knee she struck him in the one weak spot most all men possessed. On contact he immediately released his forceful grip and cringed into a ball of unbearable pain.

"Four!"

The darkness that drowned them finally rose to give way to striking white light and from above a weary, tense voice spoke down to them in a formal and somewhat irritated tone.

"Ororo, Logan, would you just for once please—"

He tackled her again from behind and she screamed in a pitch only reachable by sixteen-year-old girls as he began to tickle her stomach and legs. They ended up in a vicious fighting ball on the floor together each trying desperately to get the upper hand on the other.

The owner of the weary voice turned from the scene, rubbing the sides of his forehead slowly and sighing heavily as he faced his only guidance here, the only reason why he didn't completely lose his head with these two there and then.

"What'll we do with them Charles, really? That's almost every simulation ended up like—like this!" The tiresome teacher waved a frantic hand to highlight their wrestling bodies. "I mean there has to be a limit at one point."

The elderly man in the wheelchair that he had addressed shook his head and smiled, despite the fact that the two, especially at times like this, could be very testing of one man's patience.

"Ah Scott, were you never a teenager at one time in your life?"

The teacher frowned behind his ruby glasses, almost in annoyance. "Yeah, and I didn't act like that!" He waved yet another frantic hand as the two yelled bold, brash comments in each other's faces, continuing to maul each other as they did.

Again Charles smiled, if not with a little less spark in his pale blue eyes. "Okay then, if I must."

With reluctance written clearly on his face the mentor replaced his kindly tone with a more frontal and demanding one.

"Logan, Ororo, my office now."

Both dropped their actions immediately and shared a look. Neither teacher saw the smile.

----

There was nothing much that could describe the look on the two teacher's faces, save from weary and tense, almost appearing at a loss. In the end it was the elder man who spoke up first.

"What is it going to take to show you both the severity of the situation that you, as mutants, are in right now? Of the great number of students I have here in my home you two seem to be the only ones that are unable to grasp the concept that were are on the cusp of war here with—please stop that."

Both quickly refrained from poking each other in the sides. Charles took a deep sigh, collecting his patience, and tried again with a different approach.

"I know that when you walk out of this office your first actions will be to burst into sheds of laughter at what I had to say to you. Then you will more than likely begin to chase each other around the grounds for whatever reason. Then one of you will get hurt, and seeing as minor injuries do not generally effect you Mr Logan, it will be you Miss Munroe who will more than likely end up going to Dr Grey to get her to heal whatever Logan gives you in the way of cuts and bruises. As of from there you will both be sent to your rooms and Ororo, please correct me if I am wrong here, you will be the one to trespass into Logan's room and spend most of the rest of the night there, right? And, I will repeat, nothing that I can say will change that, will it?"

Both were silent, almost appearing shame faced and serious, almost. It was true, they were not the most easily ruled teenagers at the mansion, but in general it wasn't as if they were self-destructive or dangerous hooligans to others, themselves maybe but not to the rest of the student body or the mentors most of the time. They failed to see much fairness in Charles's, or most anyone else's, lack of tolerance with them.

"Do you have anything to say?"

Their eyes turned up to the other teacher, Mr Summers (Scooter to them), and shook their heads in silence. What they did have to say would land them weekend detention with McCoy. Charles finally nodded at their wordless response.

"Okay then, you can both go."

With more eager nods they obeyed and not five seconds after leaving the office burst into sheds of laughter.

----

Wherever they went looks were sure to follow. Whether it be in their own home at the mansion, or at the local high school, Bayville, that they were forced to attend daily, most people they walked by would chance a quick, curious look their way at their rather original appearances and boisterous behaviour when together. Most, but not all.

They were lucky if He chanced to go out of his room or wherever he sat alone at all let alone give them or anyone else direct eye contact. He was a loner by nature and a brooder and cynic of the world by practice.

Whether it had been through pure twisted fate or mocking luck, Charles had found and dared to take on Remy. No one, literally no one, had wanted him. People wanted content children of innocent eyes and mind. They didn't want a smart tongue or dark personality, an anti social bug of humanity. They wanted what was expected of young gentlemen, and Remy was not a young gentleman or what was expected. True he was not a bad person by any standards, more that he was just, awkward, for one of a better expression.

And after willingly taking on Ororo and Logan from the same adoption centre, amongst others of his students, Charles felt that this boy needed no more than what the others got, a little extra attention to his feelings as well as that old clique love.

But it hadn't quite worked. To this day the old man was still trying to get a full conversation out of the boy.

For most of his time Remy was quite content to be on his own, sitting atop the highest point on the mansion's roof with his cards for company, dealing and shuffling them with amazing speed and a trickster's hand. There he would also receive a good view of the milling crowds of mutated teenagers, playing and chatting together, socialising happily together. Occasionally there would be the chance to watch the odd voluntary P.E classes hosted by Mr McCoy and on rare few occasions he would catch Ororo striding about on her own. This sight was highly unusual though, even more so than to hear Remy himself speaking to someone.

He sighed deeply as he twirled an ace in between his nimble fingers both fed up and bored. If it was one of Remy's biggest problems then it was that his attention span was near to none existence. The grounds lacked much of its usual bustle today, although it was a Friday and most students sat dormant in their rooms, rushing to finish homework that they understandably had no want to do over the weekend. And even though sitting on the roof brought great serenity to his troubled mind, his soul remained restless and agitated.

At times like these he would tend to think to himself, delve deep into what was wrong with the world and cast a dark and critical eye on what problems he found. In his eyes, he was not what was wrong with society; society itself was what was wrong with the world.

He believed that conversation was not necessary, pleasantries were a waste of time, friends became let downs and love was untouchable less you wanted to get hurt in the end. The saying, 'no man is an island' was purely, in his cynical red eyes, just a prompt for unnecessary social behaviour between two people who would much rather be somewhere else talking about anything else than what was the topic of the dragged out conversation. These were the things that made him smile, made him arrogant in some mild ways and caused his nose to turn up at the bodies bellow.

Groups of people insisting on separating themselves from other for minor reasons such as music and looks, the way they talked and even what neighbourhood they came from. These were the things that made him shake his head.

His mind paused on thinking about the true individuals, how these were the people he solely respected, when she came out, and on her own. His eyes narrowed trying to get a better look but it was without a doubt her. The hair and the stance she carried, the marks of that true individuality he so longingly looked for in people, the thing that was so terribly rare. So why was it that when he found one of these exceptional souls, he could not bring himself to talk to her or even maybe smile or nod at her once in a while? It backed up what his last mentor had said.

"Truly a burden on any man mad enough to take him on, an anti social terrorist. If he were a dog they would have him put down by now."

Even the snooty accent still ran clear in his head, making him cringe every time he heard that line, the one honest thing that was ever spoken to him and he wasn't even supposed to have heard it.

His attention snapped back to her though as she strode about in the crisp autumn evening, walking along the outskirts of the curled, yellowed grass, occasionally stepping on a crimson leaf purposely to listen to the sharp crunching noises it made. He sat back on the roof, laying down the cards in between two old cracked tiles so he could watch her more closely.

He would have described the thumping in his heart a yearning, a strong and unfulfilled desire to be down there with her right now, maybe attempt some small talk or even just say if she was game for a quiet walk. He even seriously considered this, if only for a moment.

The fact that she was out alone though was too good to be true, he knew it had been and he watched Logan bound out after her with a none too surprised sinking heart. Immediately he gave chase as he was more often than not tempted to do and she ran off at an amazing speed, carried gracefully by her long muscular legs. They darted all over the grounds together, around the small patches of forest, trotting in the flowerbeds, in and out of small crowd of students, and at the edges of the swimming pool. Now Remy watched with interest.

One of them was going to go in, that much was obvious, but it was never easy to tell which one. Both had been in as many times as the other. It seemed today though that Logan had some unfinished business with Ororo, more than likely something that had been started in the Danger Room he guessed.

He had never been pushed enough to do one of those God-awful simulations and he had no intent what so ever to try one either, he planned not to get caught in those kinds of situations for real anyway.

He had been right though; Logan had an edge over Ororo today, a stronger determination to get her in that pool than she did to get him in. It took seconds for him to toss her balance off and eventually throw her in.

Remy cringed at the thought of how cold that water must have been in the middle of October and even from the far distance that he sat at he could see it in her face that it was not pleasant.

He envied them, so badly he wished he could be a part of their coupling but that was just it, they were a couple, a duo with no room for a middleman. So he kept himself an outcast and that avoided any hurt that could easily come from making friends. And he spent every waking minute that he had convincing himself of that.

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Well there it is, the basic set up for what I hope is a story you're gonna wanna see carried on. Please let me know what you think and I'll try get chapter two up a.s.a.p.