Here is my first one EVER. For a little background, it's set just after Archangel and the other Horsemen of Apocalypse are defeated by the Xmen. Angel is all fucked up cause he's just been changed into Archangel, controlled by Apocalypse, and Rogue had to touch him and absorb some of him so he would calm down and stop what he was doing. It was inspired by the old school episode called "Obsession" and my fascinaton with Apocalypse ;) Lots of Gambit backstory reference- Thieves, Assasins, etc.
150 words, on the dot.
The ace of spades flipped easily between his thief's fingers. From the shadows, his glowing red eyes drank Rogue in where she sat, mopping Warren's head lovingly. Her face was too painfully close to that twisted mutant's. He pretended his heart did not clench sickeningly to hear her sympathetic tones, to see her eyes fastened hungrily to this madman's. He did not move, he just burned.
He had never expected life to be fair. But why should Archangel know what her touch felt like, have her look at him like that, be a part of her forever? He was nothing but a spoiled brat turned pawn of Apocalypse. And now he was in her. And she was looking at him like she understood his madness. Like she felt the same.
Remy resisted a strong urge to charge the card tripping blithely across his fingers.
After all, he was no Assasin.
That was the first one I wrote last night. Now I have a slightly longer Evolution one as well...
Mein Gott, would he ever stop talking?
Kurt fixed his yellow gaze on Scott and tried to telepathically make him, staring at him hard. Stop talking stop talking stop talking.
He figeted when it did not work after a moment and looked to Jean. For the love of all things holy, make him stop...
That didn't work either. She was enraptured. "And we, as X-Men, have a responsibility to the people..." He was still going! Reverend Summers at the pulpit, the Holy Team Leader.
He looked over at Kitty, who was yawning broadly. She caught him looking at her and rolled her eyes. She was sick of it too. In fact, Only Jean seemed undaunted by Scott's endless flow of preaching about training harder, faster. Everyone else was dropping off slowly. Rogue's eyes were shut, Spike was drawing on his desk--
He jumped, his heart rocketing into this throat. "Ah... yes?"
The eyes behind the shades might as well have been uncovered. There was definitely some kind of beam coming from them anyhow. A discomfort beam... embarassment beam maybe. "Something wrong?"
An idea struck him. "Sort of." He reached out and fastened a fuzzy hand around Scott's wrist.
"Kurt, what are you DOING?!"
He let go.
Upon his return he was congratulated and Scott's little "emergency meeting" (apparently complaining for an hour about their lack of motivation was an "emergency" in Cyclops-land) was officially broken up. He ignored Jean's frigid look and headed toward his room for a bit of well-deserved R and R.
Kitty sidled up to him in the hall, "Where'd you leave him?"
"Girls locker room," he admitted, hoping she wouldn't ask how he knew the room well enough to teleport in.
She just smiled, "nice work, Fuzzy-Elf."
Because let's face it-- there is no such thing as too much Cyke humiliation!