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FIC: The Mutant Bride - 4a/? - PG [S/R, Hank, Logan, Mystique, Magneto]

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  • victoria p.
    Disclaimers in part 0 *** 4a. The morning dawned bright and clear. The princess and her three captors were nearing their destination. Look! Logan said. He s
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 5, 2001
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      Disclaimers in part 0


      ***

      4a.

      The morning dawned bright and clear. The princess and her three captors
      were nearing their destination.

      "Look!" Logan said. "He's right on top of us. I wonder if he's using the
      same wind we're using."

      "Whoever he is, he's too late," Mystique said. "See!" She pointed
      skyward. "The Cliffs of Insanity. Hurry up! Move the thing and that
      other thing. Move it!" She climbed out of the boat. "We're safe. Only
      Hank is strong enough to go up our way. He'll have to sail around for
      hours until he finds a harbor."

      They situated themselves in the harness Mystique had arranged to be
      waiting for them, and Hank strapped it on. Hank began climbing up the
      cliff, carrying them all with him.

      Logan looked down and saw that their pursuer was dressed all in black,
      including a mask that covered his face. He said, "He's climbing the
      rope. He's *gaining* on us. Amazing!"

      "Inconceivable!" Mystique snapped. "Faster, Beast! Faster!" she urged.

      "I thought I *was* going faster," Hank answered.

      Mystique muttered darkly to herself, "You were supposed to be this
      colossus, you were this great legendary *thing* and yet he gains!"

      "Well, I am carrying three people, and he has only himself. The
      distribution of weight --" He caught Logan's warning glance over
      Mystique's shoulder and abruptly shut up.

      "I do not accept excuses! I'm just going to have to find myself a new
      Beast, that's all."

      "Don't say that, Mystique, please?" Hank pleaded, striving for the
      correct groveling tone.

      "Did I make it clear that your job is at stake?" the woman responded.

      Finally, they reached the top. Mystique quickly cut through the rope
      with a dagger. All three peered over the edge of the cliff.

      "He's got very good arms," Hank said, admiration evident in his voice.

      Mystique ignored him. She was too busy fuming. "He didn't fall?
      Inconceivable!"

      Logan looked slightly confused. "You keep using that word. I don't think
      it means what you think it means, Mystique." He shook his head and
      looked down again. "Flamin' hell, he's *climbin'*."

      "Whoever he is, he's obviously seen us with the princess and must
      therefore die," Mystique said. She turned to Hank. "You carry her." To
      Logan, she said, "We'll head straight for the Greenwich frontier. Catch
      up when he's dead. If he falls, fine; if not, use the claws."

      "I'm going to do him left-handed," Logan announced.

      "You know what a hurry we're in," Mystique reprimanded him.

      "Well, it's the only way I can be satisfied. If I use my right, it's
      over too quickly.

      Mystique was impatient to be on her way. She waved a hand disgustedly.
      "Oh, have it your way."

      Hank looked at his only friend. "You be careful," he said. "People in
      masks cannot be trusted."

      Mystique was already walking away. "I'm waiting," she called back to
      Hank.

      Logan nodded and the two men shook hands. Then Hank hurried to catch up
      with their boss.

      ***

      victoria

      --

      "fuck you and your untouchable face / fuck you for existing in the first
      place /who am I / to be vying for your touch? / who am I? / I bet you
      can't even tell me that much"- "Untouchable Face" - Ani DiFranco

      --

      The Muse's Fool - http://www.unfitforsociety.net/musesfool
      Unfit for Society - http://www.unfitforsociety.net
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