FIC: Summer's End, 10/?, PG13/R, W/R
- DISCLAIMERS REPOSTED IN PART 0
* * *
"Karate is a form of martial arts in which people who have had years and
years of training can, using only their hands and feet, make some of the
worst movies in the history of the world."
* * *
Logan made it to the Academy by late afternoon, following the driving
directions Marie had e-mailed him. The easiest thing to do would have
been to print out the message, but without Marie there to guide him
through the process he wound up just grabbing a blank sheet of printer
paper and writing the directions down.
The "security" was laughable motion detectors opened the gates, and he
drove his motorcycle right in. The administration building wasnt overly
difficult to pick out large and central, with fewer between-classes
students going in or out. Logan was given pause by the number of
students, and wondered just how many or how few might be mutants.
Brazenly sauntering into the lobby of the building, he checked for signs
like, "This way to the Ice Queens office" and was greeted by a
matronly woman behind a desk, some sort of secretary, receptionist, or
administrator. "May I help you?" she asked, politely but with a edge to
her voice to match her obvious assessment of, "Too old to be a student,
too scruffy to be a teacher."
"Yes, Im looking for Emma Frost." [Whoops, almost called her "Frosty."
Might not be the best way to go to a job interview...]
"And you would be?" A more careful assessment, as she tried to decide
whether he qualified as "legitimate business" or "riff-raff."
"Logan. From Xaviers School for the Gifted," he reluctantly added,
hoping that the "academic credentials" would improve matters.
They didnt. The secretarys face set in disbelief, as she made a show of
checking a schedule planner. "Im sorry, but I dont have you down for an
[Guess I didnt look academic enough or maybe it was the "gifted" part
that threw her.] "I didnt have one." Sensing the approaching brushoff,
he added, "Ill just go find her myself, let her know Im here," quickly
heading past the desk into the bowels of the administration complex. He
remembered Frostys scent from when she came to get Marie, and could no
doubt track her to her lair.
After a few token protests of, "Sir sir! I cant allow you to go in
there," his preternaturally sharp hearing clearly picked up the
receptionists murmur into her phone. "Maam, we have a breach in
security. A gentleman claiming to be a Mr. Logan from Xaviers School
is heading to the private levels."
Emmas response, non-whispered but via a phones handset, was fainter but
still audible. "How interesting. Ill set a few of the more advanced
students to stopping him. This should be a good test..."
Logan grinned to himself as he rounded the corner and Frosts voice was
lost. Whether the test was intended for the students or for himself was
an open question, but it mattered not. Flooring a cadre of half-trained
teenagers without the use of any weaponry or funky mutant powers
without, in fact, breaking a sweat would more than amply prove Maries
claims as to his skills and the students lack thereof.
Frosts scent was all through this building, but strengthening in this
direction. He kept his ears and nose open for warning signals of
impending attack, but the ambush when it came was so clumsy that it would
have mattered little had he blundered into it unwarned and unprepared.
Possibly they were trying not to be heard, attempting to sneak up on him
through a connecting passageway he was approaching. But he could hear
footsteps, breathing, a cough and a muffled, "Shh!" He smirked and kept
walking as though unaware of their presence but when they suddenly
popped out of the passageway to block his path, he couldnt resist a
There were five of them. Three boys, two girls. Halting and looking them
over, he asked disingenuously, "What are you, the welcome committee?"
One of the guys stepped forward. "Im sorry, this area isnt for casual
visitors. Im afraid youre going to have to leave now." He didnt sound
particularly apologetic, despite his words. The very faint accent sounded
Middle Eastern or North African.
"What if I dont want to leave?" Logan crossed his arms, taking up a
casual-looking stance but nevertheless ready to leap into action.
"Then you get carried out," announced another of the guys. It was Beef
(though Logan didnt know this yet), and he was still smarting at having
been beaten up by a chick mere days before. He pounded a fist into the
opposite palm, anticipating violence and clearly looking forward to it.
[Big and dumb. Probably expects his size to carry him through any fight.]
"Really? And which of you brats is going to take me down?"
That was enough to set match to powder. Beef lunged for Wolverine, who
happily ducked aside at the last possible fraction of a second, adding a
shove as the young man went past to send him crashing to the floor.
Deliberately he turned his head to watch the punk hit the tiles,
pretending to be ignoring the other four students. [Thats it, kiddies,
Ive got my back turned and everything. Which of you is gonna try to hit
me when Im "not expecting it"?]
He heard the footsteps and rapidly-nearing breathing and heartbeat as one
of them took the offered bait, and when he whirled it was one of the
girls the one with the interestingly lavender-grey hair. Ducking her
rapid swipe at his face, he backhanded her into a wall. She twisted in
midflight, hitting the wall hands-first rather than against her
unprotected back or side, and bounced back into another attack. Logan was
impressed by her reflexes though not by her sloppy and thoroughly
telegraphed assault. Ducking her first couple of strikes, he went for a
chin shot, which connected. This time when she hit the wall, she slid
down it, dazed.
The entire confrontation with her had taken less than a minute, during
which time her supposed teammates seemed to have been standing around
gawking or something. Logan was taking mental notes for dressing his
potential students down in future lessons. [Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. A
real fight is *not* like a kung-fu movie the group does *not* politely
take turns attacking the single fighter so he can take them out one by
Wolverine was still waiting for one of the kids to start using freaky
mutant shit on him but whatever interesting new powers he might have
run across were apparently being withheld to prevent taking out a
teammate through "friendly fire," as Beef charged in again. [Dumbass.
Clearly needs to learn about teamwork, also known as "How *not* to get in
each others way."] Wolvie blocked the hit with his forearm, grinning at
the look on the oxs face as the shock of fist hitting metal reverberated
up his arm. It had been a pretty hard blow, actually it figured that
*this* guys mutation would be for enhanced strength or something like
that but Logan was just the wrong kind of target for the brute force
approach. Using the ever-so-brief pause created by Beef staring at him in
mingled pain and startlement, Wolvie returned punch for punch but *his*
landed on the kids jaw. It took another two or three strikes on
Wolverines part, but he managed to knock the big guy on his ass again.
As the ox hit the floor, Wolvie dived to one side. Some form of
electrical bolt crackled through the space hed just occupied. With as
much time as hed spent around Storm while she was on the attack (whether
on a mission or in the Danger Room), the ozone scent and staticky crackle
of the air had been enough to signal him to get the hell out of the way.
It was a matter of some debate whether Logans metal-laced frame made him
more susceptible to electrical shock, or actually served to protect him
as a sort of internal lightning rod system. Not wanting to test Hanks
theory in a combat situation, Wolvie dived for the kid who still reeked
of ozone, knocking him flying and then knocking him silly with a few
Turnabout being fair play, Wolverine himself was then slammed into by
that first guy, the one who had told him to leave. Apparently he had
borrowed a trick from Sam "Cannonball" Guthrie, the human or rather,
mutant rocket. Well, guided missiles could be taken out via their
control mechanisms. A good right-cross to the face downed Rocket Boy (and
Logan along with him), allowing Wolvie to make sure that the kid wouldnt
be getting back up anytime soon. Then he jumped aside again, easily
ducking something the remaining girl had just thrown at him. Whatever the
hell it was she was flinging, hed just evaded barbecuing it was the
sudden rush of heat that had warned him hed become a target again.
Before he could take out the girl tossing the fireballs, the
lavender-haired chick was after him again. Dazed and angry, her technique
was even worse than before but he had to hand it to her for wading back
into the fight. Not that it stopped him from decking her again but he
approved of her tenacity. [I like this one. Shes got potential.]
Then he sidestepped another charge from that goddamned ox, putting
himself next to Fireball Girl almost as if by accident and dropping her
before she realized her danger. That just left Beef to deal with, but he
was proving bloody hard to take out for good. Now that the rest of the
team was down, Wolverine had the leisure to choke him into
unconsciousness with an arm around the throat from behind. With blood
rather than merely oxygen being cut off, a few seconds was all it took.
Surveying the remains of the assault team, Logan shook his head
disapprovingly. [Pitiful, just pitiful. *Scooter* could have trained
these kids better.]
* * *
She Whose Quotations Are Both Exotic and Appropriate
Keeper of his Deadly Startle Reflexes, Guardian and Examiner of the
Adamantium-Revealing X-Rays, and Official Listener for the Occasional
"Okay, this is going to hurt quite a bit, but, I suppose, that's t
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