A/N
Dedicated to Sniper67. Yo. My first attempt at slash comedy. I think I got the slash down, it's the funniness that's gonna kill me. Where this is going... I dunno. I'll figure that out later. Basically I'm gonna screw everything up again, though not in so final a way as I usually do. This first part, well... It's not scary, but it's not funny. The next one'll be funny. I promise : )
"I Tried"
FurorPaxx ([email protected])
Chapter 1- Stories
"It was a dark and stormy night, yo, just like in all the horror movies. You ever notice how they never st-"
"Stop. Stop. Toad. You suck at telling stories."
Todd Tolansky lazily looked at Pietro, who was sprawled across the couch. Well, except for his feet which had been dumped on the floor by Lance. He was talking on the phone. One guess who...
"Lance get off the phone. It's your turn to tell a story." Pietro ran a hand through his silvery hair as he contemplated the many ways his friend would just re-word something that actually happened. 'It'll probably have Kitty in it.'
Lance actually hung up the phone then, smiling like a maniac. "She said that blue freak ran off again. He's been disappearing a lot. Ya' think it's his power?"
"Cute. Your turn." Pietro yawned, the perfect image of nonchalance- or at least to people who weren't used to picking up on these things.
"What's up 'Tro?" Freddy asked as Pietro checked every door and every window in the old house. He shuttered, locked and pulled the curtains on all the windows and bolted all the doors.
"Might I remind you that the freak show we're talking about doesn't use doors?" Lance watched as Pietro settled back on the couch.
"I feel safer anyway. So are you gonna tell a story or not?"
"Oh come on. You know you're the only one who tells good stories. Except..." Lance's face twisted as he remembered some of Pietro's past stories.
"Yo. I'm too young to hear that kinda stuff." Todd chimed in.
"It's not that bad." Pietro protested and looked to Freddy for help.
"I liked the bunny story, but the end was bad."
"You guys have no appreciation for good storytelling."
"Pietro," Lance leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair in an agitated manner. "You were telling a bunny story to help Freddy sleep. Why the Hell did you end it with the bunnies getting sick and dying horrible deaths? In detail."
"Well, that's what happens in chemical warfare. How can I help it that I'm accurate? You need to know about these types of things so you can prepare for your death."
"Pietro..."
"Okay, okay. I'll tell a story without death, without torture, with suspense. That cool?"
"Fine."
"Alrighty then." Pietro cleared his throat and consciously slowed his speech. "He was waiting for a sign of her existence. For hundreds of years sailors spoke of Wicashaw's Mermaid, but other than glances every now and then, no one had gotten a good look at her. His name was Samuel. It was the way of sailors to name their sons after Bible figures in the hopes that when they followed their fathers to sea, God would look kindly on them. Samuel was different. He would never sail a boat and chances were, would ever have a son to name after a Bible character. You see, Samuel was blind. Everyday he stood on that pier he heard the sounds of a life he could never have, a life he could never stop craving. He was working on a way though. Sam was only ten, but the vast majority of sailors start when they're sixteen. That didn't leave much time for a blind boy to learn how to see on a boat. The biggest problem was that his mother didn't like the idea of him on a boat at all, even just as a passenger. To her, Sam's being blind was a blessing, not a curse, because it meant that at least one of her sons would never be lost at sea. It also meant that she had at least one helping hand that she could count on. At this very moment, she was at home waiting for Sam to get back with some pastries she had ordered from the baker. Little Sam always took forever on errands, but he was blind- what could one expect? Thank goodness she never found out about how much time he spent at the pier..." Pietro got up and checked a few windows again before returning with a glass of water. He stared at Lance for a second before he remembered where he was in the story.
"When Samuel got home, he found his mother had guests. Like all good mothers, Ms. Sammy's Mom decided that her son needed to get out and play more. She usehered the kids outside, urged them to play nicely and went back in to discuss the latest gossip with their parents. Sammy and the two other kids stared at each other. Or to be more accurate, they stared at Sammy, who was listening to them breathe and guaging how tall they both were. It was ackward for a while, until Sam showed the two (Alexandra and Matthew) the tree house his great grandfather had built. It wasn't so much in the tree as part of the tree itself. The entrance was carved in the wood and you had to crawl through a long tunnel to get inside. Once you were there, it was well worth the effort. Hundreds of cool little trinkets were everywhere, things that once had names and purposes but were lost to time." Pietro's eyes glazed over as he described the tree house, but then, everyone was so caught up in the story that it took a moment to register the sound of knocking at the door. "I'll get it, slowly." Pietro said. He ran to the door and waited as the other mutants hurriedly straightened things up. If Mystique was returning, there was no reason to have her yell at them so soon. Once Lance gave the thumbs up, Pietro flung open the door as if he had just raced to it.
"Hi."
"What are you doing here?" Pietro demanded in a harsh whisper and stepped outside.
"I missed you."
"Very funny. Do you know what happens if-"
"Who is it?" Lance called from the TV room.
"Ah. Personal visit." Pietro shot back.
"Oh. Tell Wanda I said hi." There was the sound of snickering.
"I look like Wanda?"
"This is serious. People are getting suspicious. Kitty said... what is that?"
"My lucky bag."
"Your lucky bag. You only take that when you go camping." Pietro fell backwards suddenly as Todd pulled on the door. "Go away Todd. It's not Wanda."
"Yo, I bet it isn't."
"Hang on a sec." Pietro ducked inside and, within a second, re-emerged. "You're going camping alone?"
"Actually... I'm defecting."
"What?"
"Yeah. It's just... I don't know. I'm tired of the X-Men. It's getting crowded, too."
Pietro smiled. "Is that your excuse?"
"That's the only one I'll say out loud."
"Good enough for me. Welcome to the Brotherhood." Pietro opened the door for the newcomer.
"Thanks. I like it already. It reminds me of my old home."
"Hey guys, we've got a new member."
"Is she hot?"
"Shut up, Lance."
"Uh. Yo. Pietro."
"Yep."
"You realize you let a X-Man in our house."
"Former X-Man."
Lance peered down the stairs and Freddy paused with a handful of popcorn halfway to his mouth.
"And you realize that it's... you know... him."
"Yeah. Kurt defected. He wants to be with the Brotherhood."
Dedicated to Sniper67. Yo. My first attempt at slash comedy. I think I got the slash down, it's the funniness that's gonna kill me. Where this is going... I dunno. I'll figure that out later. Basically I'm gonna screw everything up again, though not in so final a way as I usually do. This first part, well... It's not scary, but it's not funny. The next one'll be funny. I promise : )
"I Tried"
FurorPaxx ([email protected])
Chapter 1- Stories
"It was a dark and stormy night, yo, just like in all the horror movies. You ever notice how they never st-"
"Stop. Stop. Toad. You suck at telling stories."
Todd Tolansky lazily looked at Pietro, who was sprawled across the couch. Well, except for his feet which had been dumped on the floor by Lance. He was talking on the phone. One guess who...
"Lance get off the phone. It's your turn to tell a story." Pietro ran a hand through his silvery hair as he contemplated the many ways his friend would just re-word something that actually happened. 'It'll probably have Kitty in it.'
Lance actually hung up the phone then, smiling like a maniac. "She said that blue freak ran off again. He's been disappearing a lot. Ya' think it's his power?"
"Cute. Your turn." Pietro yawned, the perfect image of nonchalance- or at least to people who weren't used to picking up on these things.
"What's up 'Tro?" Freddy asked as Pietro checked every door and every window in the old house. He shuttered, locked and pulled the curtains on all the windows and bolted all the doors.
"Might I remind you that the freak show we're talking about doesn't use doors?" Lance watched as Pietro settled back on the couch.
"I feel safer anyway. So are you gonna tell a story or not?"
"Oh come on. You know you're the only one who tells good stories. Except..." Lance's face twisted as he remembered some of Pietro's past stories.
"Yo. I'm too young to hear that kinda stuff." Todd chimed in.
"It's not that bad." Pietro protested and looked to Freddy for help.
"I liked the bunny story, but the end was bad."
"You guys have no appreciation for good storytelling."
"Pietro," Lance leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair in an agitated manner. "You were telling a bunny story to help Freddy sleep. Why the Hell did you end it with the bunnies getting sick and dying horrible deaths? In detail."
"Well, that's what happens in chemical warfare. How can I help it that I'm accurate? You need to know about these types of things so you can prepare for your death."
"Pietro..."
"Okay, okay. I'll tell a story without death, without torture, with suspense. That cool?"
"Fine."
"Alrighty then." Pietro cleared his throat and consciously slowed his speech. "He was waiting for a sign of her existence. For hundreds of years sailors spoke of Wicashaw's Mermaid, but other than glances every now and then, no one had gotten a good look at her. His name was Samuel. It was the way of sailors to name their sons after Bible figures in the hopes that when they followed their fathers to sea, God would look kindly on them. Samuel was different. He would never sail a boat and chances were, would ever have a son to name after a Bible character. You see, Samuel was blind. Everyday he stood on that pier he heard the sounds of a life he could never have, a life he could never stop craving. He was working on a way though. Sam was only ten, but the vast majority of sailors start when they're sixteen. That didn't leave much time for a blind boy to learn how to see on a boat. The biggest problem was that his mother didn't like the idea of him on a boat at all, even just as a passenger. To her, Sam's being blind was a blessing, not a curse, because it meant that at least one of her sons would never be lost at sea. It also meant that she had at least one helping hand that she could count on. At this very moment, she was at home waiting for Sam to get back with some pastries she had ordered from the baker. Little Sam always took forever on errands, but he was blind- what could one expect? Thank goodness she never found out about how much time he spent at the pier..." Pietro got up and checked a few windows again before returning with a glass of water. He stared at Lance for a second before he remembered where he was in the story.
"When Samuel got home, he found his mother had guests. Like all good mothers, Ms. Sammy's Mom decided that her son needed to get out and play more. She usehered the kids outside, urged them to play nicely and went back in to discuss the latest gossip with their parents. Sammy and the two other kids stared at each other. Or to be more accurate, they stared at Sammy, who was listening to them breathe and guaging how tall they both were. It was ackward for a while, until Sam showed the two (Alexandra and Matthew) the tree house his great grandfather had built. It wasn't so much in the tree as part of the tree itself. The entrance was carved in the wood and you had to crawl through a long tunnel to get inside. Once you were there, it was well worth the effort. Hundreds of cool little trinkets were everywhere, things that once had names and purposes but were lost to time." Pietro's eyes glazed over as he described the tree house, but then, everyone was so caught up in the story that it took a moment to register the sound of knocking at the door. "I'll get it, slowly." Pietro said. He ran to the door and waited as the other mutants hurriedly straightened things up. If Mystique was returning, there was no reason to have her yell at them so soon. Once Lance gave the thumbs up, Pietro flung open the door as if he had just raced to it.
"Hi."
"What are you doing here?" Pietro demanded in a harsh whisper and stepped outside.
"I missed you."
"Very funny. Do you know what happens if-"
"Who is it?" Lance called from the TV room.
"Ah. Personal visit." Pietro shot back.
"Oh. Tell Wanda I said hi." There was the sound of snickering.
"I look like Wanda?"
"This is serious. People are getting suspicious. Kitty said... what is that?"
"My lucky bag."
"Your lucky bag. You only take that when you go camping." Pietro fell backwards suddenly as Todd pulled on the door. "Go away Todd. It's not Wanda."
"Yo, I bet it isn't."
"Hang on a sec." Pietro ducked inside and, within a second, re-emerged. "You're going camping alone?"
"Actually... I'm defecting."
"What?"
"Yeah. It's just... I don't know. I'm tired of the X-Men. It's getting crowded, too."
Pietro smiled. "Is that your excuse?"
"That's the only one I'll say out loud."
"Good enough for me. Welcome to the Brotherhood." Pietro opened the door for the newcomer.
"Thanks. I like it already. It reminds me of my old home."
"Hey guys, we've got a new member."
"Is she hot?"
"Shut up, Lance."
"Uh. Yo. Pietro."
"Yep."
"You realize you let a X-Man in our house."
"Former X-Man."
Lance peered down the stairs and Freddy paused with a handful of popcorn halfway to his mouth.
"And you realize that it's... you know... him."
"Yeah. Kurt defected. He wants to be with the Brotherhood."