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http://www.hulu.com/young-
- The Treasure of Zeus: Part 1 (12 September 1998)
- The Treasure of Zeus: Part 2: Between Friends (16 September 1998)
- The Treasure of Zeus: Part 3: What a Crockery (17 September 1998)
- Inn Trouble (24 September 1998)
- Battle Lines: Part 2 (2 October 1998)
- Ares on Trial (9 October 1998)
- A Serpent's Tooth (29 October 1998)
- Golden Bow (19 November 1998)
- Con Ares (1 February 1999)
- The Skeptic (22 February 1999)
- The Prize (25 February 1999)
- Mila (11 May 1999)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/
- Encounter (10 February 1997)
- Judgement Day (17 February 1997)
- When a Man Loves a Woman (17 February 1997)
- The End of the Beginning (21 April 1997)
- Armageddon Now: Part 1 (9 February 1998)
- Yes, Virginia, There Is a Hercules (23 February 1998)
AU. What if Strife was raised in the House of Love from the beginning alongside Cupid?
Cupid/Strife/Psyche
Twilight/ Supernatural
"Oh, what, you're vegetarians? Vegetarian means you don't eat meat, and blood, well that's a part of meat. So guess what, you're really just a poseur."
"Sparkly Vampires? Really Sammy, what is the world coming to?"
http://www.touregypt.net/godsofegypt/
http://www.godchecker.com/
The Ogdoad "Sleepers"; Eight
They all came into being at the same time.
Nun and Naunet represent the primordial seas,
Kuk and Kauket represent the infinite darkness,
Hu and Hauhet represent empty space, and
Amun and Amaunet represent quintessence, or the secret powers of creation.
The Ennead; Nine
Atum was the first who created himself (or arose out of Nu, the primal nothingness/ was egg born of Amun/Amaunet?) and who created Shu and Tefnut from either his spittle or his blood.
From their union came Geb and Nut.
Their children, the great-grandchildren of Atum, were the first gods of earth:
Osiris and Isis, and Set and Nephthys. From those four were all the pharaohs and many of the gods descended.
---------
"Death"; Ardeth
Mehen (serpent body/serpent lower half) with Seth was the defender of the Sun Boat agianst Apep.
A serpent-headed man holding a spear, standing in the prow of the Sun Boat, or as a giant snake coiled around it.
"Chaos"
Seth/Set; started out as aid to brother, twisted by Apep.?
winds, storms, chaos, evil, darkness, strength, war, conflict, Upper Egypt.
"Love (oldest)"
Anet; "Mother of the Gods"; A major goddess of fertility, sexual love, hunting and war.
"Justice" (Meela)
Nekhbet (Nekhebet, Nechbet) was the predynastic vulture goddess who was originally a goddess of a city, but grew to become patron of Upper Egypt, a guardian of mothers and children, and one of the nebty (the 'two ladies') of the pharaoh. "She of Nekhb", named after the town Nekhb (El Kab) nkhbjar determinative town determinative, was a local goddess who, with the rise of the pharaohs, became the great goddess of all of Upper Egypt, while the other 'lady', Uatchet (Uatch-Ura, Wadjet), became goddess of Lower Egypt. These two goddesses were linked closely together due to the Egyptian idea of duality - there must be a goddess for both of the Two Lands. Nekhbet became Upper Egypt (the south) personified.
Yet she also had a fierce side, as most Egyptian protective deities did. She was linked to war and combat. In many war scenes, it is she who hovered above the pharaoh, protecting him from his enemies.From the personal protector of the pharaoh and she who bestowed the white crown to the pharaoh, she became the symbol of rulership in ancient Egypt. And from the wet nurse of pharaoh to the guardian of mothers and infants, she took on the role of protector, she moved from the pharaoh's own goddess to one who looked after mothers and children through the whole land. She was worshiped as a goddess as well as being the personification of the south, the vulture goddess who was one half of a manifestation of the idea of duality that was a basis of ma'at for as long as the pharaohs ruled Egypt. She was more than just a goddess - she was half of the land of Egypt itself.
"Discord" ( Evelyn )
Wadjet one of the nebty (the 'two ladies') of the pharaoh. 'She of Papyrus/Freshness' become the patron goddess of all of Lower Egypt and 'twin' in the guardianship of Egypt with the vulture goddess Nekhbet. These two were the nebty (the 'two ladies') of the pharaoh and were an example of Egyptian duality - each of the two lands had to have its own patron goddess. Wadjet was the personification of the north.
Often shown as a rearing cobra, she was a protector of the pharaoh, ready to strike and kill his enemies. She was also depicted as a woman-headed cobra, a winged cobra, a lion-headed woman, or a woman wearing the red crown of Lower Egypt. She was often shown together with Nekhbet who was in an identical form - as a snake or woman - or paired together with Wadjet as a snake and Nekhbet as a vulture. She became a goddess of heat and fire and this enhanced her role as a protector goddess - with such fierce powers she could use not only poison but flames against the enemies of the pharaoh. Along with her link to this power, she became connected with the 'Eye of Ra', and was thus also connected to the other goddesses who took this title - Bast, Tefnut, Sekhmet, Hathor, Isis, and her 'twin' in duality, Nekhbet. Along with this form, she took the form of a lioness, as did many of the other 'Eye of Ra' goddesses. In this form she wore the solar disk of Ra - linking her to the sun - with the uraeus (the rearing cobra) as her headdress.
From the personal protector of the pharaoh and she who bestowed the red crown to the pharaoh, she also became the symbol of rulership. And from the goddess of papyrus and the Delta to the 'Eye of Ra', she took on the role of protector of the ruler. She was worshiped as a goddess as well as being the personification of the north, the cobra goddess who was one half of a manifestation of the idea of duality that was a basis of ma'at "which the goddess Wadjet worketh". Not only was she a goddess, but she was one part of the land of Egypt itself.
(Name Does Not Change)
Imhotep; "Lord of Science and Thought"; architecture and the sciences. A man dressed in the robes of a noble with the punt beard and carrying the tools of a builder.
Not really a god in the truest sense of the word, Imhotep was a deified man. He was originally the chief architect, grand vizier, physician, and scientist under Zoser (III Dynasty, c.2635-2570 BC). He designed the Step Pyramid at Saqqara and formulated the architectural theories that would lead to the construction of the Pyramids of Giza only a few generations later. He was also an accomplished astronomer and physician.
After his death a cult sprang up dedicated to him. It quickly grew in popularity among the learned people of Egypt (Imhotep's life had occurred during a sort of Renaissance) and continued for many centuries. His followers believed him to be the son of Ptah, the architect of the entire universe.
Keeper (Paths/Arches?) -Harry
Wepwawet the "Opener of Ways"; guarded the dead, parted sky and earth, and "opened the way" for armies. (alike with Anubis; god of dying)
Aker; (Guardian and Gatekeeper of the Underworld)
In early representations, Aker is shown as a narrow strip of land with a human or lion head at both ends But later he was shown as the foreparts of two opposing lions, sometimes with human heads, facing away from each other. One lion faces west while the other faces east. In between them is the sign of the horizon. In the later period of Egyptian theology the two lions making up the Akeru were named Sef and Tuau - 'yesterday' and 'today' respectively.
Ancient Egyptian mythologists believed that during the night the sun journeyed through a tunnel that existed in the earth - its entry into the tunnel caused the night, its emergence again bringing the day once more. Each end of this tunnel was guarded by a lion god.
It was Aker who opened the earth's gate for the king to pass into the Underworld. He was also known to absorb the poison from the body of anyone bitten by a snake and he neutralizes the venom in the belly of a person who has swallowed an obnoxious fly.
Mertseger; (Protector of the Valley of the Kings/Earth)
Mertseger was the protector and guardian of the Valley of the Kings, where she lived on a nearby mountain. Her wrath would descend on anyone who disturbed the tombs there, usually by sending poisonous animals against the transgressor.
She also protected the valley against unscrupulous workers who might try to steal treasure, or carve out a secret entrance. Yet for all her ferocity, she was merciful. Should a person repent of his crimes against the valley or the tombs, she would heal the wounds he had suffered.
Woman with the head of cobra, or a scorpion with a woman's head.
Ma'at; (Lady of Truth and Order/Heaven)
truth, law and universal order.
Maat was the personification of the fundamental order of the universe, without which all of creation would perish. The primary duty of the pharaoh was to uphold this order by maintaining the law and administering justice. To reflect this, many pharaohs took the title "Beloved of Maat," emphasizing their focus on justice and truth.
At any event in which something would be judged, Maat was said to be present, and her name would be invoked so that the judge involved would rule correctly and impartially. In the underworld, the heart of the deceased was weighed by Anubis against Maat's feather. If the heart was heavy with wicked deeds, it would outweigh the feather, and the soul would be fed to Ammit. But if the scales were balanced, indicating that the deceased was a just and honorable person in life, he would be welcomed by Osiris into the Blessed Land. Maat's presence in all worlds was universal, and all the gods deferred to her.
A woman wearing a crown surmounted by a huge ostrich feather. Her totem symbol is a stone platform or foundation, representing the stable base on which order is built.
Protector of Mirror-World (Sirius)
Orion was, to the ancient Egyptians, the most distinctive of all the constellations in the night sky, and it rose directly before the adjacent star Sirius, thus explaining the connection between these two ancient gods from a very early date. Orion was imagined as being swallowed at dawn by the Underworld but had the power to emerge again into the night sky. Their son was Soped (Sopdu, Horus Spd), who was another astral deity. They came to be viewed as manifestations of Osiris and Isis.
Sah, while perhaps not as familiar to us as Sopdet, is mentioned very frequently in the Pyramid Texts, where he is called "father of the gods". The deceased king is said to enter the sky "In the name of the Dweller in Orion, with a season in the sky and a season on earth". The association between Sah and Sopdet is also clear in these early texts where the king is told, "You shall reach the sky as Orion, your soul shall be as effective as Sothis". During the New Kingdom, Funerary texts explains that Orion is said to row towards the stars in a boat and Sah was sometimes depicted in this manner in scenes found in temples and tombs, where he is surrounded by stars as he sails across the sky in a papyrus skiff.
The Guardian/Watcher of Time ("Eternity")
Sopdet; is better known to us is that Sirius was, for the ancient Egyptians, a very important star that signaled after having been hidden from view for seventy days, in its appearance on the eastern horizon at dawn during July (Heliacal rising), the coming annual inundation of the Nile River which marked the beginning of the agricultural year. Hence, the goddess was called the "bringer of the New Year and the Nile flood". Therefore, Sopdet became associated with the prosperity resulting from the fertile silt left by the receding waters. In the pyramid text, Sopdet is described as having united with the king/Osiris to give birth to the morning star, Venus, and through her association with that netherworld god, she was naturally identified with Isis, who she was eventually synchronized with as Isis-Sothis. represent the goddess as a reclining cow with a plant-like emblem (perhaps representing the "year") between her horns. She is almost always shown as a woman wearing a tall crown similar to the White Crown of Upper Egypt but with tall, upswept horns at the sides and surmounted by a star with five points. In this iconography, she had few variations, and is usually represented as simply standing with arms at her sides or with one arm folded across her lower breast. However, occasionally the goddess could also be depicted as a large dog.
Rick – Sebok; (Guard of the Gods) the strength of the pharaoh. A crocodile-headed man with a feathered crown, rarely as a full crocodile (which was also used as the representation of Apep).
The son of Neith, Sobek was a sort of bodyguard to various gods, especially Ra and Set (in his original form), and was seen as having a similar function for the pharaoh. In times of need, he gives the pharaoh strength and fortitude so that he may overcome all obstacles. He also protects the pharaoh from all harm, especially evil magic.
Scorpian King (Mathayus /Ash/As; Kindly God of the Desert); the desert. A man with the head of a hawk. As was the "Lord of Libya" and the god of the Sahara Desert. Although sometimes depicted as a companion of Set (who had the duties of the god of desert storms), As was a benign god who caused the oases to made. He also looked after those who had to travel through the desert, ensuring that they did not die of its cruel heat.
Alex (The Ferryman)
Mahaf was the ferryman who navigates the boat provided by Aken, along the winding waters of the Underworld. He also acts as a herald announcing the arrival of the king into the presence of the sun god, Re.
Jonathon (The Ferryboat Watchman of the Underworld)
Patron of, the ferryboat that carries the souls of the dead to the underworld. A man dressed in the garb of a sailor, standing in the stern of a papyrus boat. Aken was the custodian of the ferryboat in the Underworld. However, he was somewhat amusing, for he had to be woken from slumber by the ferryman Mahaf to provide the boat for travel on the celestial waters.
So, in short, this is to see how many oddities there are within a "surface clutch"; also I wanted a egg for every letter in the alphabet. Yeah.
So, SHINY clutch;
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/achlys.htm
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/baltha
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/ambrose.ht
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/myrddin.ht
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/ezekiel.ht
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/fitz.html
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/kacey.h
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/launce
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/tennyson.h
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/valkyrie.h
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/xanatos.ht
STRIPES;
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/nasire.htm
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/ripply.htm
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/quincey.ht
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/pereg
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/orpheus.ht
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/hobb.html
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/titania.ht
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/oberon.htm
STARS;
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/nux.h
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/nyktos.htm
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/icarus.htm
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/gwayne.htm
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/pendr
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/uriel.h
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/wyrm.html
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/yavon.h
POCKA DOT:
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/chione.htm
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/khion.h
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/daedalus.h
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/hancock.ht
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/jared.h
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/jensen.htm
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/rajani.htm
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/shiva.h
http://www.zantarni.com/pets/zuhayr.htm
Now, Go Forth And CLICKY!
...please?...
1) In which on a visit to Mission City, Sam and Dean put a restless ghost to rest, and then find themselves thrust into a battle between giant robots. During the battle the Allspark affects Dean, his love and affection for the Impala, feeling as if it is real, and loving to just drive on the open road, the Allspark shifts his soul/spark into the body of the Impala, turning him into a Transformer, in this form, Dean must learn to live and survive, and still be a big brother to Sam; Sam realizes that Dean is gone from the hotel room, and that the Impala is still parked in front - Dean try to communicate that he is the Impala and Sam thinks ("Please don't be cursed, or haunted.") eventually he realizes that Dean is somehow "trapped" in the Impala, they go to Bobby, and they don't know where Dean's body is, and Dean doesn't remember where he left it. Dean communicates through rock songs. Autobots find out there is a transformer in Bobby's workshop, and try to contact and speak with Dean/the Impala. Dean, startled, doesn't realize there are other alien things out there like him, and stays "mute"; Sam comes out - Dean surrounded by other Autobots in car form, Sam Witwicky try to stall him; (Hey, hey man, how's it going? Neat shop, what do you do here?/Isn't mine. What's going on here? What are you doing to my brother - my brothers car?/ Nothing man, nothing, sweet ride though. How'd you get it?/ Dean...Dean, are you alright? (asks as if someone is in car, Sam wonders if that was why transformer wasn't answering, wasn't)/ (song answers). Autobots hurt that Dean won't talk to them, only Sam, his brother, realize that Dean was human, can't fix him, wonder if he is how they'll evolve. Dean is told about Deceptacons, and given choice of road-tripping with his brother, hunting the supernatural, or being a part of a team to neutralize the threat. Sam is kidnapped by Decepticons with Sam Witwicky, too late for Sam to stay on the down low. The two bond in capture/getting away. Sam realizes that Dean can't be alone and decides to join up on missions with military with Dean when they go after Decepticons, while still hunting supernatural creatures on the side, as they are "waking/stirring" because of Transfomers.
Conversion Spark
2) In which Sam Winchester and Sam Witwicky switches bodies, as do Dean and Bumblebee, because Sam tracks down "curse" mirror that shows you what your life would look like "on the other side"/ Sam Witwicky has mirror as family heirloom in room, is the alternate form of mirror which exists as mirror in every alternate world, find out all they have to do to go back is look in mirror again, but have to be at same time as Sam/Bumblebee or world will switch again (dreams/precog connect Sam with his body/eyes); Ruby drops by looking for mirror in Winchester 'verse, steals it, and Sam try to find out how to get it back, Bobby and ASh/Jo at the Roadhouse helps them - in Transformers verse, Sam is kidnapped by Decepticons, Dean has to get him back, Autobots help him. Dean/Bumblebee both have to get used to physical and mechanical bodies, how organics think verses transformers, how to fight. Conflicts are eventually resolved, Ruby trading mirror back, as she wants the Winchesters back as well - not before both get intimate, to compare and contrast between body/body and mechanical/body companions.
Perceptions of Time
What makes a Time Lord a Time Lord? Human perception of time is always changing, always shifting through out their lives, its why when a child wants to grow up, they seem to do so quickly, and look back with regrets; its why time seems to go on forever while your young, but then as you age more noticeably, it slows. It’s because it does. Time is in your mind. Or, really, a refection of time is in within every human subconscious. We only never realize it. Time Lords, they feel time, constantly, a Time Lord will seek out a place where time is reacting strangely, slowing, or quickening, and go to it. Often, they will seek to fix the “glitch” for it is, to them, a physical manifestation of wrongness in the universe. It’s why the Doctor’s TARDIS knows where and when to go, for its perception of time is the only physical manifestation of an object of relation as keen as a Time Lords.
Bloody Valentine/ Supernatural
Sam comes looking for Dean when they’d split up to check out a psyche supernatural case, and Dean went missing. Dean is vain enough to have wanted to meet the man who looks like him, and happens to be possessed (why the bones vanished, why the “spirit” got stronger when his clothes and hat were used) Sam tracks Dean down to a small town and its sheriff and wife who couldn’t care less.
“Trust me, if you survived that cave in – so could Dean.”
Supernatural / Dark Angel
Max goes into heat, and finds Dean – thinks he’s Alec, has sex with him. When morning comes, Max wakes to find them in a hotel room, with pictures of her and her brothers and sisters on the walls – even
“Dean.”
“What, Sammy?”
“Congratulations, your barfly? She’s X5-452. Max Guevara.”
“Aw, geez.”
Transformers/ Supernatural
Dean and Sam came into
“Shortly after meeting Harry, at 16-17 he joined the Rangers with Harry – Harry had left Earth because he didn’t want the life the Wizarding World offered him. Riddick practically hero-worshiped Harry, having a crush on him – later, when Riddick turned nineteen, Riddick discovered he loved Harry, and started to seduce him. Together they discovered the Rangers were corrupted, and demanded a change – instead they got locked away. Mercs came one day, having discovered a bounty worth breaking them out of prison and into the hands of another authority – they were after Riddick and Harry. Separated during the trip, Riddick escaped – discovering the chamber they had kept Harry in soaked with blood – and some of it his. Thinking the Mercs had killed him – Riddick went on the hunt for Mercs – killing most that got in his way.” – First Chapter Note (should have seen it coming, really!)
“You grew up on Earth; your home world is particularly violent, though rarely do they venture far from their system. You…you on the other hand, seemed to have run from your world. You took odd killing jobs; it was inevitable that you come in contact with the Furyans. Some thought you’d met your death with them, they are not known for their kindness in finding mercenaries trudging about their worlds and systems. Yet, strangely, we have accounts that deter this assumption, instead they seemed almost attracted to you, something like a carnal desire – an attraction. This was a working partnership, and then, strangely – like a whisper, they faded. We think they are all dead. Yet you live. One would think you would have something to do with their dead.” - Lady Antonia Chillingsworth.
“It was an elegant blade tinted with a strange blackened metal, though its use for killing was plain. Its tip was narrow, while it thickened toward the handle, what should have smoothly moved from base to hilt had instead been curled toward the hilt to guard where it would be gripped. Its hilt – a smoky green - was large enough that even resting across his lap – held in both hands to either side of the torso – it still had a blade as long as Harry was tall.” – Harry’s sword; where’d he get it?
“He talked, sometimes, of where he grew up. A planet on the far rim of space, a place where people thought they were the only ones out there, where they thought they were alone. Still, he told her, they fought; they killed just the same and with careless ease. She had asked him how he’d gotten off that hellhole that sometimes seemed worse then Crematoria. He had told her the truth, a people had come from the stars – preachers, invaders, the Necromongers.
She had thought them to be a ghost story for kids, he said they weren’t – were, in fact, as real as he was, hunting him.
I have a "terrible" idea; one which swings backward in that whole concept of BtVS, ideally "Xander goes to Pitch Black, as a tag along lover to Riddick", yes, if that sounds familiar, its because I, and others, have done it to near death. Doesn't make it any less fun of a concept. Now, ordinarily, as I shoved Harry and Xander to Riddick, as a packaged deal (which was, honest, the first time it was done) I can ignore such niggling; only taking note if it brings to mind my own story and working with it - well - that answer is "oh, hell, no - not this time".
I'll tell it to you as it came to me;
"Xander, dear, your about to have a Furyan crash land - in your backyard! Won't that be fun? I know he isn't very friendly to the parents, but they sort of deserve it and you sort of have to move out now - before Riddick does more then butcher your mums stuffed animals, and while he growls at Angel (but you don't like him, so that's OK) and scoffs at Oz (that's your former boyfriend, dear, as darling Willow realized she was gay a long time ago) and you think the glaring at Spike might be a little over the top (he wants in your pants, you just don't know it...yet) but Buffy hits it off with him (literally, at first) and Willow thinks whatever is between you is "cute"; and while you aren't sure what Giles thinks of all this - your kind of worried when Ethan shows up and rooms with his "Ripper"; overall, its going OK, so far...and then, well, comets do tend to fall in the dozens; and so do aliens..."
I'm calling it, "Backyard Rendezvous". Now, I'm going to shush, because while there is no shutting up the voices in my head; it worries some when I start talking to them.It's my time of month and I'm suffering from migraines, I've cut the same finger twice once at the very tip and on the very side. I took the day off work. Dreading the whole "how much it'll cost to fix" factor; our poor Grani, yes, damn-it, my boyfriend named his first car after Digimon Tamers...
There is something they say about "trouble coming thrice".
So, how is *your* day going?
Lucky though, a teasing Gargoyles/Harry Potter idea had stuck in, staring Puck/Owen raising Harry at Avalon and then later with Alex - poor Puck, though this was brought about by Phantom Thief Kyuubi who commented on my almost typo of "Why have you brought me here, Xanatos?”…in Green Eyes, Black Sand...I should have guessed LynnGryphon somehow had a hand to play in this; here is her challenge (Harry winds up in NYC/ Harry is attacked and flees. Enters Xanatos' building to escape / Is taken to meet Xantaos / Harry is not stupid nor meek. He has a spine and brains and he uses them / Xanatos takes Harry under his wing. Why?/ Xanatos must provide Harry with a good non-magical education. / Harry eventually meets the Gargoyles. / -Slash (preferred), no relationship, or mild het (no intimate details) / OCs are okay as long as they aren't Mary/Gary Stus / Owen can be his own character.)...
Doctor Who/Harry Potter idea with sharper teeth then I would like, as Harry Potter is really Ianto Jones of Torchwood, he's one of the few wizards/witches who know there is a time Rift and that beyond the planet are aliens and such, and rather then study it from looking up at the stars, from afar, like most of the wizarding world, he decides to interact - hence, being Ianto; so, after I write all the possibilities from the show of him being Harry, and being with Jack - the Doctor shows up turns out, that the locket of Slytherin is really a Time Lord watch, the book said they couldn't open it - what if Harry had kept it as a memento, and as it turns out, it belongs to Harry, as he is a Time Lord...?
...I could almost curse Kots for teasing out a Stargate SG-1/Watchmen idea...I'll say no more save, Daniel Jackson, or Daniel Dreiberg...also, you must know that Rorschach is my favorite...mmm, Daniel/Rorschach ...yummy...
Rayvens Cave, having made the 270th review in my story “Scorched Sand”, thus got the “Readers Reward” requested an Emmett Cullen/Harry Potter pairing, my muse gave a mental cackle and threw me a whole story as “bait”, I didn’t even know I was thinking up. It happens like that sometimes. Other times the muse makes me work for it; I like to think it evens out certain odds....
Note; since everyone is writing Harry Potter into Forks, I figure I’d do it to….-snickers- only, well, not. Harry isn’t going to a muggle high school for some sort of warped “vacation”, his magic is not out of control thank-you-very-much, and neither is the war over. In fact, it may never be over if Harry does not find one Emmett Cullen. He’s a vampire? Well, fuck. He’s also the last “living” Horcrux. So what is a wizard to do when he falls in love with a dark creature that happens to “accidently” possess the soul of one of the most feared Dark Lords of the century? Letting the magical world know he’s found Emmett will assuredly lead to Emmett dying; not telling will likely destroy the magical world…
Disorder | Rating
Paranoid: Moderate
Schizoid: Moderate
Schizotypal: Low
Antisocial: Low
Borderline: Low
Histrionic: Low
Narcissistic: Low
Avoidant: Low
Dependent: Low
Obsessive-Compulsive: Low
URL of the test: http://www.4degreez.com/misc/personality
URL for more info: http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/index.h
-on this one, I just kept answering "no" not very hard to pass as someone "sane", hm?
Disorder | Rating
Paranoid: Very High
Schizoid: High
Schizotypal: High
Antisocial: Low
Borderline: Low
Histrionic: Low
Narcissistic: High
Avoidant: Low
Dependent: Low
Obsessive-Compulsive: Low
URL of the test: http://www.4degreez.com/misc/personality
URL for more info: http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/index.h
-ah, my paranoid and schizoid personality shines through. Amusing how I went from low to high narcissistic...and schizotypal.
The first one, I forget, but I got highs on Paranoid, Avoidant, Dependent, and Obsessive-Complulsive....I don't think I told anyone I was dropped on my head as a baby, I wonder how they figured it out? -snikers-
then </lj-cut> to close it out, after all the text
Sabishii Kage Tenshi’s challenge, rewritten in my (Abby Ebon) own words; Set in the summer after fourth year, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin encounter Harry , already intoxicated, in a pub not entirely somber themselves, it results in that the three then wake up snuggled naked together like puppies come dawn. Sex to be more then a little implied. Prophesy can play a part if it grows to be a chapter story.
I played with a lot of ideas, mostly as I was discomforted with the notion of doing something involving sex in a pub/bar twice… (read; “What Happened At Mardi Gras”)…true, it would be a threesome, but Remus was still involved…I did not want anyone to be cheated, or to feel as if I was supporting underage drinking and sex, two of my moralistic pet-peeves. Most especially with Harry supposed to be fourteen….
I may enjoy reading about them, but I knew I’d have a issues writing it, mostly as I’d never done so before…still, I had given my word – I would write this, I thought to ignore it, perhaps focus on something else … what if Dudley could be redeemed in my eyes with this story? It would only take a little nudging for him to be both “corruptor”, and a tickle of unpleasant possible reality setting over him that Harry hasn’t had the best life and that things might have gotten worse after his magic-school letter came about?
Well, that idea was tossed about like a boomerang; it’ll be back, I’m sure, in time, no fear. Then I thought, well, what of the pub/bar? I came up with the “Fidgety Witch” musing on how it fit with how I was a bit displaced with beginning to write this, at first, it seemed I only could get amusing dialogue or a snippet of a sentence out; then I went back to the Leaky Cauldron, after all, it isn’t as if Harry could get any privacy in that pub, let alone have a hope to shag his godfather and former professor, how would my “Fidgety Witch” be different, any similar?
Sex, obviously, would be something rather common-place, or at least fooling about. I imagined the scent of smoke, from the very beginning (“Harry let the taste of smoke tease him, aware all the same that he was well on his way to being drunk. He felt he deserved to get a bit drunk.”). The lighting would be dim, shadows where you’d smell sex and see movement and know enough not to interfere – yet you should be fair and see the shape and form of your partner, as no one likes to be tricked…there would be a sort of haunting siren-like humming, a tone, tuneless, that you’d hear sort of in the back of the mind, something you could dance to – or fuck to – yet it could be a ignorable, a drone, if you didn’t have that sort of interest.
So, it would follow, the magic about the pub-inn of the “Fidgety Witch” would be very like that. I found myself writing of how to find such a place, rather then any sort of story…it began like this…
“There is a place, called the “Fidgety Witch”, it’s a pub – or sometimes an inn, at times both – usually the entrance is in an alleyway, just beyond the left-turn of a crossroads. It moves around you see, no one is sure where, or when, or where it has been, or where is will go. Sometimes, you find it, mostly, though; it finds you alright all on its own. If you smell burnt amber (which is more like incense smoke, though too sweet) and faint brimstone, you know you’ve found it – or it has found you.
You’ll know it better if I describe it some, but places and magic, when they go hand in hand, well, things get odd. Magic has a sort-of sentience all its own, and gathered up as witches and wizards are prone to do, it sort of slimes off and spreads to envelop into a place, which, as most know, have a sort of put-upon personality – a individuality - all its own already. This is gifted mostly by mortal personality and imagination, though common events, rumors, and odd happenings naturally play a part in shaping such a place with magic and sentience – intelligence like and unlike ours. Though nothing is natural is within magic, save in the rawness of it, that magic played a part in the crafting of the world we know, and the worlds we do not know, magic is what formed it, though it is also displaced, removed – controlled – by mortal mind and bone. So it is not like nature, though is… give thought, then…a sea-ship is called she for a reason, though the name of the ship may be man-given and imagined….and an underground cave always makes ones skin crawl, most of all when the lantern flame sputters, or the battery in the light gets dim. You may brush those feelings aside, tell yourself it’s just a too active imagination, or your primitive hind-brain is making your instincts go to the odd side. I wouldn’t blame you. Some things, well, we mortals aren’t meant to see.
This isn’t that sort, never you worry, not near as strong; you’d hardly notice it, but then, you’re not supposed to. It’s the sort of place you get a certain feeling about, that unease, as if you’re not quite sure it is safe. Or if you seek a bit of strangeness, a bit of danger, well, it just doesn’t have the right sort of spice, if you get my meaning. It is as if, if places had a taste, around this place, it’s always not-quite-right. Best to be avoided, looked over - after all, why bother with it – you’ve better places to go, better places to be. Even if you don’t, that subtle sort of magic, it can just as easily snag you as let you loose, best to walk away if you can.
Makes you wonder, at the nature, and magic of a man that can not. ”
Obviously, my mind was running amuck, trying to find something within my imagination I would not reject too badly. A hurt feeling on both sides isn’t something I’m prone to. It caught on the idea that the Leaky Cauldron a bit rundown, a bit past its prime, was a sort of doorway to another world; that of Wizards, who had dealt with the Dark Lord, and feared, and knew, sickeningly, that the Dark Lord would return like the tax collector. That, by drinking, we all hope to enter another sort of world….there was a bit of amusement on my part, as I wondered – was that Rowling being clever again? Or was it a bit of an accident? Likely, I’m sure, both… still, it lingered, what sort of world would the Fidgety Witch hide?
Then my mind stretched out, far-reaching, remembering – sort of slow, it came to me….Midnight Blue....“The Mirror of Maybe”, it is one of my favorite stories, and I had suffered long and hard to find where the whole story was still being worked upon. Not quite forgotten then. Then I thought, perhaps by random chance, of A Brighter Dawn’s series (Of Streetlamps and Streetwalkers, Of Stalls and Strip Clubs, Of Agents and Abductions, Of Casinos and Car Chases, and the up-and-coming Of Dates and Drugs) staring Detective Remus Lupin and Millionaire Sirius Black (I think, privately, as the “Of Detectives and Millionaires” series) and I wondered “how can that help me?” it is a fantastic AU, true, though it has a bit of personal gritty worry in it, that what is the future would not be pleasant if it followed the books. It might not.
I wondered what they might do, if Harry like in “The Mirror of Maybe” showed up and told them all what might happen, or how Riddle might kill Lily and James in this version, if it followed….still, it is fun for me to muse on such things, even if I thought I was avoiding working on this story. Then I realized, as I admit, I am a bit slow when my mind is pointing out the obvious, and my imagination isn’t quite ready to move onward…it works like that sometimes, then, sometimes backwards.
That was it, I realized – looking backwards to go forward! – what if neither Sirius or Remus knew it was Harry they were flirting and bedding…what if this Harry is “displaced” in such a way, as one can think they can be by alcohol – only, now that he’s gone and “displaced” himself, he is in a bit of a fix, yes? Why would he drive himself to such drinking? What would he do, after sobering up, knowing what he does of this “now” and of his “then”… and what his destiny is in the “prophesy”…what would he do?
I admit, I was a bit slow coming up with all this, but I hope you might agree to think the wait well worth it...I certainly am looking forward to writing this, as I’ve never done something of the like…so what do you think, do you approve?
Final Note; Silver Claws and Cat Tails touched on a lot of things, mostly though, I was being childish about it, if I should continue with this story, its world will get somewhat darker then what I’ve been playing about with. I’ve left this off where it could be the end; a middle ground, if you will. I might pick this up and dust it off and carry onward to an ending that follows into a misted crossroad; or I could leave off and go another way. It isn’t as if this is my only story, though it – as does every one of my stories – it means something to me, it does not mean everything. I’m not sure I have a story that means everything to me. Not yet, maybe never, though, if I ever do, I’m not sure I could share it, well, what I’m saying is this; I do not know what I will do with this, so I hope – for the moment – you are satisfied with this ending.
Nonetheless, it must be stated, I came to writing this with three goals in mind; to write Harry into the Brotherhood, to write mutants into Hogwarts, and then to write Harry into Xavier’s school, likewise, only one goal has seen fruition; thus, it will likely go onward to a sequel, then, likely, another of like kind; if it does go on at all.
Or I shall go and drabble out something else to fulfill my goals, but first I want to do some cleaning up of this story – namely; making sure there are no lingering accidents with Brotherhood members knowing Harry’s name before he tells them; and getting Remy’s and Rogue’s accents just-right, bugs the hell out of me in the itch-under-skin-can-not-scratch way with how ratty it is now, sorry, I’m a old-school stickler to these sorts of things. So, if anyone is interested in helping me out with either of these two things – or in merely editing the whole, speak up now, or hold your peace and grit your teeth.
It will take a while; count your selves lucky….
At one point in time last week, when I had only gotten a page out and thought the rest would never come…I wanted to re-write this entire story without ever finishing it…I almost cried with relief when it came to me at whole on April 1, if by chance this is some miss-guided cosmic “April Fools” due to my muses…I am not amused. Alright, the irony is a little tempting after all is said and written… thank god for LynnGryphon talking sense into me about finishing this…
One last thing, the sequel – if there is a sequel – will be called;
“Flick of Flame and Silver Hair”.
Silver Claws and Cat Tails
Abby Ebon
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own X-Men.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Mutants-Alone-Can-Not-Make-It-Right
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
It ran amuck in his mind, around and around…he seemed not able to think beyond it….“See – I told you, he has become a mutant monster!” Ron called from the back, his eyes wild, Harry found himself curling his lip in a sneer…. Those words, spoken from his best friend’s lips – that had driven him over the edge. That had given him fury to denounce the magical world.
He had not regretted it, till now.
It was not Ron he faced.
Harry had known he would be expected – he had been called here by a vision of Nightcrawler. Or rather, he had been Nightcrawler – tortured, chained, and knowing he was without hope. Someone had spoken to Nightcrawler, yet not – they had addressed Harry, calling him out, summoning him. It had amused Harry, they thought him not a wizard, yet were sure that he had enough magic and enough of wild magic to be summoned. Then he had become even more enraged, he came to them of his own choice, not because of a spell.
Still, he was not without senses, he had intended on getting Nightcrawler to safety (or at the very least, freed) before facing Ron and whoever had gone along with this. Harry had intended to speak to them, to rave, to yell until they listened and heard how crazed they had become – perhaps then they would regret it, would retreat, or at least attack him face-to-face, anything at this point was better then the prolonged hide-and-seek “game” Harry had been enduring all the while among the mutants and muggles.
He had grown tired of it. He wanted an end to it. Come what may, he had determined, it would end here-and-now.
That had been when he thought he knew who he faced – now, now…he did not know what to think. It was the most dangerous position, for he had been utterly caught off guard, his rage derailed like a doomed train crashing into inevitability.
“Surprised, Harry…?” The words were drawled out, sick amusement thick on them. No one would need a spell, Harry stood frozen, his mind working furiously to come to grips with what he saw, with what he was hearing.
“So am I… that it would be so easy…I should have done this long ago, do you not agree?” He faced only one wizard, yet beyond him others – unneeded – had gathered, smirking and snickering among one another. Harry did not recognize their faces. He suspected their features had been shifted, altered with wand and potion alike. It might be impossible to later tell who had stood among them. It was just as well, Harry did not pay them any attention. His eyes focused, catlike, on the one who had spoken to him.
“Percy…I do not understand.” He could almost suspect this all a trap, but it was all too surreal to be that. Percy was gloating, smiling at him almost comfortingly in the sight of his utter confusion. It was eerie. There was no rush here.
“Poor, poor, Harry Potter, I will explain. Ron came to the Council, delighted that his freak of a friend would be something so exotic as a mutant…a wild-magic user, we really can’t afford the risk, Harry, I am sure you will come to understand…so, I used the Imperius curse on my own little brother, it was not as hard as I would have imagined. I expected more from him, hanging about as he did with you in your school days; I suspect it was too much to hope for to think it would rub off on him.” Despite that he flinched upon hearing the term “freak” which had fallen all too often in his youth from his aunt, uncle, and cousins lips so as to become a twisted curse and almost-name… Harry still noticed the regret Percy spoke of in his last words. As if the lack was a disappointment to him, related as he was to the target.
“Then what I saw…” Harry swallowed his throat dry, even as he spoke he was remembering… “See – I told you, he has become a mutant monster!” Ron (not Ron…?) called from the back, his eyes wild, Harry found himself curling his lip in a sneer…had it all this been his failing? His fault that the magical world had fallen to such disarray that the Wild Hunt woke to bring it to rights…it ached within his heart, that thought, as if Percy had stuffed a knife in his gut and was discovering how to twist it. He might have well have.
Harry did not know why Percy was betraying him, he remembered how Ron had come to hate the mention of Percy, had called him traitor and worse, but as it had never affected Harry (it had been something Ron had dealt with, something about “keeping it in the family”) even though he had thought himself as a adopted brother to Rom…still, he had never guessed that Percy would do something like this. He had thought it only that Percy hadn’t wanted his family hurt, and had tried to protect them by turning against Harry. Or it had been out of a desire to fear no retributions from the Dark Lord while starting his own family with his own ties to the Light.
He had never thought it might come to this. He and Percy had never been very close, yet Harry had never suspected…
“Your sight has never been very good; I suspect at a distance, for the first time…one furious red head looks much the same as another.” Spoken so coldly, so matter-of-fact, with a hint of mocking, Harry shook his head, remembering Hermione – Ron was her husband, surely she would have noticed…
“Hermione….” Harry knew he was grasping at straws. Yet there had to be some reason – something being overlooked.
“I kept him under the Imperius curse, Harry that is all…” Percy tsked, clicking his tongue as if he were a professor disappointed in a favored pupil. Harry felt his fury tug low in his throat, he growled – low, animalistic. Percy looked pleased. It washed over Harry, then, as if ice had been growing along his spine. Hermione had been as quick to temper as Ron – even more so then Harry if tempted – if she had been angry on behalf of Harry, she would not have thought much of Ron, she would have been off balanced and furious enough not to notice if Ron’s actions were cold, at a distance, or even less like himself.
“How long…?” Harry felt the chill along his spine touch his heart; they had all been so blinded, played on their emotions like children. If something happened to Ron, if Harry lost his best friend…he did not think he could ever forgive himself.
“Long enough that he began to work back to being himself, though not quite quick enough, Hermione ran off into the Forbidden Forest…I was very disappointed in him…” Percy tapped a finger to his bottom lip, as if thinking of why things had gone the way they had. Harry wondered, distantly, if he found any answers.
“Where is he, Percy?” Harry heard his own voice, soft, frightened like a scared child. Percy looked to him, smiling, and Harry knew he would never have an answer unless he found it himself. Harry cried out, the chill melting off – it had been anger, betrayal, and fury that had started all this, but he would be damned if they were not enough to finish it.
Harry did not notice that the wild magic felt his need for vengeance and blood; he did not hear the answering cries….
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
The men cloaked in black that had stood at ready to either side had left him. His hands were still chained, so too were his feet – and tail. Nightcrawler found it ironic, how they had whispered of his strangeness, of the danger “his kind” – mutants – were to them and “their kind”.
It was confusing to follow their talk, they spoke freely (clearly his appearance of an inhuman animalistic devil lulled them to false feelings of safety) around him, strangely, they muttered over magic and mysticism, of “their world” and “his”. Nightcrawler could not understand all of their words, but it sunk in, despite the loss of blood that still coated his blue-black fur. It would be a mess to groom.
Nightcrawler let his thoughts linger on their strange murmurs, he could, if pressed, believe it of them that they were, indeed, not like most. Their sticks reminded him of the myths of wands and wizards, yet, still he could not bring himself to believe it. Still they had no weapons, save the wands – and no other way to explain how he had become so trapped, save with bonds and chains that had appeared out of nowhere.
Nightcrawler licked his lips, remembering words that had been spoken to him (“Harry…we’ve got one of your precious mutants, come collect him or his blood is on your hands…”) – yet he was the vessel, the words had been meant for another… nonetheless, Nightcrawler thought of the Harry he knew, who had shared a cage with him for a night, then disappeared, he had worried until the facility had been all but destroyed.
It occurred to Nightcrawler, slowly, that he ought to try to escape, now that he was not being watched. He hadn’t wanted them to know of this ability…
Bamf!
Nightcrawler stumbled, falling faintly dizzy and more then a little sick, he saw the ground coming up, and knew he would fall. He did not. Arms wrapped around him, holding him up while he steadied himself.
“Easy…” Nightcrawler recognized Logan’s voice, and breathed a little easier. He was not in the arms of an enemy – or of one of the wizards. Logan looked about to say something, and then Nightcrawler flinched as cries – like a woman screaming, a beast growling, and some song howling on the wind – filled the air. He could not seem to think, until Logan tightened his grip on him, and then spoke lowly, slow, tightly controlled, showing none of the strain that tensed his body – Nightcrawler had to strain to hear him.
“Get us out of here.” Nightcrawler did as told, without question – as he did not want to linger. Something bad was going to happen.
Bamf!
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
“Harry…” It was whisper soft, dreading any sort of answer.
Snow littered the ground; she had to wade through it as if it was high tide on the beach. Wanda’s breath came in cloudy puffs, above her the sky swirled in darkness. It was daybreak. She could not really remember what had happened after she had heard the cry that summoned to mind bloodlust, it still haunted her. It ached, as if a itch she could not scratch, though longed to. Wanda knew with a certain longing that sinking into that mindset, it had been something that she would never forget, would long for.
That wouldn’t stop her form killing Grwy or Wyrd if she ever got a hold of them. It was just as well that they were gone. Vanished. A little ways ahead off to the side, she saw Rogue moving more easily through the snow – above them two shadows flew, circling, watching for any sign of life.
It wasn’t much to hope for, the grove of trees suffered to be blackened husks of their former selves, and somehow – it was snowing. The only reason Wanda and Rogue were so sure Harry had been here was the itch at the back of their throats and noses, almost smoke like, a sort of burnt-spice. It was the same smell – the call – that had led them here. Something very like it tugged in her memory, she had slaughtered and maimed wizards (and, possibly, witches) with a scent of that likeness, though it paled in comparison.
Her crimson sky serpent, Azel (she did not know how she knew its name, only that between falling and now she simply did) let out an uneasy questioning call. Hopefully, Rogue and Wanda traded glances – Rogue called out, her voice quaking at the end.
“Harry…?” There was nothing worse, Wanda thought drearily, and then being in the wake of a disaster and finding you were alone. Harry might have thought he killed them by calling for them. Or he might not know they had come at all. Most of all, both Wanda and Rogue hoped that Harry would be alive, and aware…
Rogue’s black Zeim cried out in affirmative, the two circled the curiosity while Wanda and Rogue rushed to reach them.
“Harry!” Rogue saw it first, the silvery fur and black stripes over the tiger, blending well into the snow. Green eyes blinked open at their call, and Wanda’s worry that Harry might not be Harry in this form was washed away to mere relief.
“Wha…?” Those green eyes, if not the voice within their minds - recognized them; Rogue mumbled soft reassurances as she petted Harry’s head and scratched his ears. Harry yawned, stretching out his massive paws and extending feline claws, his entire posture telling them that he found the entire situation amusing.
It was then that Harry noticed his own shape, and with something like a snarl he hid his face in his paws. Wanda started snickering, then could not hold in her laughter, Rogue at first disapproving, let her lips twitch and was soon joining her – Harry grumbled not-words under his breath.
That was how the others found them.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
End
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Silver Claws and Cat Tails
Abby Ebon
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own X-Men.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Mutants-Alone-Can-Not-Make-It-Right
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Men cloaked in black stood to either side, his hands were chained – so too were his feet and tail for they had learned that lesson early. They whispered of his strangeness. Of the danger of mutants, they had bled him until blue fur was coated in dried blood. They did not use weapons to hurt him, but strange sticks that sputtered to life with a word and colored lights.
With ginger hair, one of his captures – pale skin fevered and freckled - leaned in close to look at his eyes. His bland expression shifted, becoming menacing.
“Harry…we’ve got one of your precious mutants, come collect him or his blood is on your hands.”
Ron…
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
…bump-bah-bump…
“Harry…?”
It hurt. He hurt. It was a tight, clenching pain about his chest. He was vaguely surprised he could still breathe, that his heart still beat. He felt numb, everything but the vision of blood splattered fur and red hair and blue eyes glaring at him hatefully was dim; distorted.
“Harry…what – who - was that?”
Harry took a breath, then another. He found a lie at the tip of his tongue. It should not have been so easy.
“I’m not sure I know.” There was a furious disbelief in Pietro. He was bewildered, frightened. He had wanted only a kiss. Neither of them had expected…this.
“He…he called you by name. There was blood. How can you not know?” Harry hunched in his shoulders, cringing. He knew his words had been flaky at best. He did not blame Pietro for his disbelief. He wondered if the silver haired boy had lost trust in him completely. Harry could find no resentment if he had. This vision proved his worst fear, anyone who had contract with him – they were all in danger.
Harry could not protect them.
“I…I just…” Harry found the words did not come, his gaze to his hands, clenched tight and white knuckled, pale nailed. Weak hands. He felt Pietro touch his shoulder, it was meant to be reassuring, though there was a hesitance that Pietro could not have hidden in his movement.
“Harry…Harry, I…I’m sorry, Harry.” He felt like a traitor to Pietro as he moved into the other boys proximity, leaning on his solid warmth – it was a comfort he did not deserve. Pietro welcomed him, holding him – murmuring soft meaningless reassurances. Harry closed his eyes, and wished – heart aching as he did - that Pietro would sleep dreamlessly. It was Harry’s turn to hold Pietro as the other boy slumped – crumpling, his body unresisting to the pull of gravity.
Harry knew he had to fix this. He had to make things right.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Looking nothing like a hero bringing down the might of an army upon his enemies, and more like a furious school-boy, with ruffled black hair. Harry Potter strode through the camp (although he did make use of the less obvious paths and stayed out of sight of the windows and doors) his path not deterring toward the grove of trees at the outskirts.
Logan closed his eyes, yet what he was seeing did not change. It had been a half hearted wish, but concerning wizards and witches, he had his suspicions on how the nature of wishes affected them. Still, it did not change facts. Harry was running away. After all that Logan had been through with Harry, his first thought was not to cowardice. No, he knew better. His first thought was to what Harry was running to.
It was not too far of a leap in logic.
With all the talk of witches and wizards, and their world being brought to ashes by folk like Grwy and Wyrd…Logan stifled a groan under his breath. He should have guessed Harry would do something like this, if only to be difficult. Yet he could not waste this chance, Harry was leaving – and while he might be mad enough to continue all the way on foot, Logan dared not risk getting someone and lose sight of Harry. Not that he was entirely sure that wizards – or witches, for that matter - just weren’t naturally prone to these sorts of “accidents”. It might explain a few things if that were just how things were. Like why such powerful beings weren’t already ruling the world rather then sitting veiled in magic and the mysticism of myth.
It was enough to intimidate even Logan, yet still, he know better then to think that he could reason Harry out of whatever temper he had taken it into his head to act upon. When furious, Logan knew better then most that everything seemed to make sense. Harry wasn’t the sort who could be talked out of that sort of frame of mind.
Logan had heard Hermione telling the others of how their world had abandoned Harry upon finding he was a mutant, plotting what to do with him behind his back. It was enough to make anyone sympathize. What had really likely thrown Harry was Ron. Even with Hermione, his wife, he had let the Ministry and its Council bully without a struggle. From what Logan understood, Ron was on the Council – as had Harry – so maybe the plotting had only been to remove him. Logan doubted it.
From what the magical world had done afterwards, and from what they faced now. He really doubted they didn’t deserve everything they got. Fat lot of good they had ever done anyone. Logan most of all could understand – hell, even sympathize with Harry to the point of feeling the tug of rage in his throat. The urge to snarl was strong. He throttled it; he was determined not to be discovered – even as he followed Harry. Who was not, by any length, in the right frame of mind to be concerned about those who might be following him….it likely did not even occur to him.
Follow, like Logan was. It proved a point to Logan, that even with magic and whatever mutant senses that Harry still had were being ignored - the kid needed looking after.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Neither wizard-mutant or mutant were aware that large serpentine eyes followed their movements, with a flick of a tongue Wyrd tasted the scents upon the air – then the gaze shifted to the slender shadow that watched beside. A wary sort of smile crossed Grwy’s lips, but she made no move to go after either. Instead she turned back to the camp, knowing that they would need a cool head in what was to come.
A snap of a twig – purposefully trod upon – alerted Wanda to being watched. With her hands clenched into fists at her side, and her gaze narrowed on Grwy she watched the others approach. She stood, tense, waiting for the other to speak. Instead, growing impatient, Wanda spoke first.
“Well? What do you want…? Do you have something to say to me?” Judging by the wry look Grwy tossed her way, her reaction had been expected. Wanda grits her teeth, grinding them only a little - determined not to snap at the unnerving woman. She remembered well her first glimpse of the woman and the serpent-dragon; it was not something she would soon forget.
“Mere proposition, it is time for you to understand, we have use of you.” It was in a matter-of-fact tone, almost monotone. Yet there was wickedness in her eyes, or a tilt to brow, or how she stood, that belied mere words. Something was happening, and Wanda did not know what. It was more then a little disturbing.
“Do you now?” Wanda was aware then that she was not alone with Grwy. She did not look up, even though a large shadow had passed overhead. There was more then one of those serpent-dragons swarming about in the stormy grey-black skies. For all that is was supposed to be day, there was a chill that clung to that reminded them all that the Wild Hunt was renowned for being feared in the time between twilight and dusk. Something about them leant an otherness to the day, so that it was as if it were night instead.
“Oh yes, we are not what we were. We are in ruin, near forgotten, fragments of the past. Our art is near lost. Yet, with what is coming, there is hope for us yet.” Grwy’s eyes were far away, as if she were old enough to remember the Wild Hunt at its peek and pride. Perhaps she did, for some reason that thought did not disturb Wanda as much as she thought it ought to.
“I do not understand.” She hated to admit it, as if it was a weakness that the vague words of the wild-woman did not really mean anything to her. For a moment, Grwy looked as if she understood that what she was saying was not sinking in. Her next words sure enough laid it out.
“I am asking you to join us, to fly.” Grwy gestured to the sky above them, and Wanda was never more aware of the serpent-dragons then in that moment. The very air seemed to hum, waiting for a response.
“Ah, shite, ye be kidding meh.” Her accent thick, Rogue stepped from where she had lingered. She had not meant to overhear, still, the pronouncement had shaken her. Wanda turned her head sharply to take in the sight of the other mutant, and then looked quickly back to Grwy who did not seemed very surprised at being overheard.
“I am not, if you both will follow me, I will show you how very serious we are.” As if that settled the matter, Grwy lifted her arm in time to prevent dust from entering her eyes. It also made a very impressive entrance for Wyrd. With dignity, she climbed atop the serpent, settling between its spines. Glancing between each other, Wanda and Rogue followed, even as they scrambled after, for the first time giving thought to wonder if the silken-like spines were poisonous. There was a jolt of movement and motion, and it was too late to second-guess, they were airborne – and moving quickly into the shifting clouds above.
Still aloft, Wyrd paused above the cloud line; silver fluff seemed to stretch on forever below them – and above them the heat and brightness never seemed to end. Yet it was what was in front of them that left them breathless. In flashes of crimson and black, two serpent-dragon beasts fought, snapping dangerous teeth at tender hide, and for the first time they gave thought to if the silken spines along the serpent backs were poisonous – whatever the case, they certainly were being used as a weapon.
“What…what are they doing?” Wanda watched them, unable to look away – she blinked her eyes, not aware that she was crying. It did not seem right that they behaved like animals –mere savage beasts – Wyrd was proof that they could be so much more.
“Practicing the Art….they are no more then thralls of the Wild Hunt, once they had a awareness, yet it was lost when their riders fell.” For the first time there was a thickness in Grwy’s voice, as if she was sick. Yet she eyes remained on the dueling serpents, as if as sickening as it was, she could not look away. It was obvious to her what it meant, that this was one more proof of the ruin the Wild Hunt was falling.
“War. Ah don’t understand, why bring us here?” Rogue asked respectfully, keeping her voice soft.
“Do you not see? If you gain their rapport, they will seek to save you.” Grwy stated matter of fact, undeterred in her nature – it seemed as if she made her words unavoidable.
“Save…us?” Rogue asked haltingly, swallowing as an odd feeling crept into her head. It as if she had not realized until then how very natural it felt to be aloft, astride one of the sky serpents. Now she did, and it was very strange to realize she felt so out of sorts.
“Why would we need saving?” There was a catch in Wanda’s throat, as if she had already figured it out but did not quite believe Grwy or Wyrd would do such a thing. Wyrd seemed to shiver, shuddering as if in laughter. It was suddenly very hard to hold on. The silky feeling spines were hard to grip. It struck Wanda at how reckless Wyrd was flying, as if what ever let them fly was failing.
Faltering.
“Stop this…! Are you mad…?” Wyrd twisted about midair, and Wanda felt dizzy as she was turned about around-and-around as if a bit of clothes in a laundry machine. Rogue lost her grip first, shrieking, falling though the billowing whiteness that Wanda knew sickeningly were only clouds and not at all as solid as they looked.
Wanda saw the blur of black and red serpents pause, just as she lost her grip and fell – though not before seeing Grwy’s eerie smile and vowing vengeance if she lived through this. Wanda was determined not to die with her eyes closed – but that did not mean she meant to see the ground below approaching too quickly for her tastes. In a small part of her mind, she thought she was falling forever – why didn’t she pass out into blackness and die? Not that she wanted to die.
No, she wanted to live.
As if the thought had summoned them, she saw them - twining about each other like a top too quick to see the details but enough to notice the colors whipping about in the otherwise colorless sky. As they dived, falling, it struck her that they might have mortally wounded each other and were dying – falling just as she and Rogue were.
Then the crimson serpent shrieked upon setting sights upon Wanda – it was joyful and wild and it was all for the setting sight on her. Wanda felt as if her heart might burst, yet somehow her chest was expanding and she could absorb all that feeling. Breathless, Wanda saw among all that crimson the black eyes that gently ensured that Wanda was set upon the sky serpents back.
She wasn’t falling, she was flying.
She glimpsed the black sky serpent still diving, and even though she did not quite know how she did it, her own sky serpent followed it. She saw it (though Rogue did not, falling face-first, braver then Wanda had been) as the black serpent flung itself last minute between Rogue and the ground, lifting skyward triumphantly.
Another cry came, this one was from somewhere else – a cry to gather, a cry for blood. It was answered.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Silver Claws and Cat Tails
Abby Ebon
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own X-Men.
Note; I so did not forget Nightcrawler (even though no one has mentioned him, I feel this must be stated) …-feels guilty for what’s been done to him-…
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Magic-Does-Not-Make-Thee-Right
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Harry shut his eyes against the wind, as it tugged at his hair and seemed to pry at his closed lids. It was hard to think it to be day break with the sky as overcast and the wind as wild as it was, it seemed that the weather was affected by the Wild Hunt. Harry had known the Wild Hunt to be both ancient and primal in its methods, so it was just as well that the Hunt affected nature so vividly.
“What the hell is this Harry?” Logan had tried to keep his voice hushed; he likely thought that the movement of air kept his voice from being heard. Harry knew otherwise, though he knew also that he could not pretend not to have heard. Logan was, after all, right behind him, the warmth of his bare thighs and groin straddling Harry’s back. He had almost forgotten they wore nothing save their own flesh, with the pleasant fire side like warmth of Wyrd’s silk-like skin.
“Fundamentally, a rescue, though also…revenge.” The answer came from Grwy, hearing her, Logan jerked only a little.
“This revenge…is for what?” Remy asked in undertone, making no mistake of knowing that Grwy – and Wyrd – overheard him. It was a good question, despite the obvious answer of his having been captured; Harry didn’t truly know the reasoning of the Wild Hunt, it was something one did not dare often to guess at.
“Too long have the ways of the wizards and witches been against the nature of magic, they seek a leader, yet renounce those born to lead. They quarrel with all kinds and breeds, seeking domination. They have forgotten the old ways – they have forgotten the Wild Hunt. Forgotten that being gifted with magic does not mean gifted to rule.” Wyrd answered this time, his voice like a howl in the wind.
“I’d love to know how you know Harry.” Logan murmured softly somewhat doubtful in his sarcasm – which was, indeed, a first. Harry had shivered only a little, as his words whispered against the sensitive skin of his shoulder and neck. Harry bit his lip to keep from making a sound, his eyes seeking a distraction in the changing land beneath them. He couldn’t afford a distraction. Things had changed since the Wild Hunt slept, and now they had woken once more, things would change – hopefully – to how they were supposed to be.
Just as the nature of the weather was reflected by nature of the Wild Hunt, so too was his own magic; buzzing in his mind filling him with potential. If he used it – if he only reached to manipulate it – he feared what he might do.
Using wild magic could kill – he would die, eventually, likely young as the wild magic flowed through him like blood, but wild magic also – its use – the feel of it, the taste of what was about him being so affected by his will, it was all too addicting.
He had known what wild magic might do to him; he had – after all – spent time among the Wild Hunt, learning to kill and control his magic that had bubbled and twisted like a spring of fresh flowing water – it had seemed to him useless to control . When Hermione had told him he could use wild magic – and was, by some twist – a mutant. He knew he would be –not might be, but would be -manipulated once more, it was how wizards and witches did things – though it was not supposed to be that way, they could have the greatest of intentions – it would still be abuse of his magic. That was if things had stayed the way they had been.
Harry had known also that among the “noise” of magic and wand waving done in magical communities would drown out the Wild Hunt’s ability to find him. He had wanted to be found, and had known that –eventually – they would come to call upon him. Then he would have allies – as powerful a tool as the wild magic was, without the net of the Wild Hunt with its connected ties between banshee and sky weavers, he would be alone. It would have been very dangerous for him to be so alone without someone that knew what to watch for – the signs that wild magic tainted – and act to prevent them.
He could trust the Wild Hunt to do just that.
“He sought us out. There are ways to find us; he merely looked to find a way to kill an enemy no matter what is done in retaliation. You may imagine this challenge – brought forth by a boy – stirred the Wild Hunt to renewal.” Grwy answered softly, though they could hear her well.
Harry knew that Remy and Logan only knew part of his story – they would learn more – he only hoped that until then they trusted him still. It was, he knew, a hard thing to do with the changes quickening about them.
“You mentioned a ‘little witch’…?” Remy spoke thoughtfully; Grwy chuckled harshly, though it was Wyrd who answered. Harry stirred then, made curious by their amusement. It was not a good thing, though it was neither bad that they be so amused.
“Yes, one who calls herself Hermione; she sought out the star watchers with the spider kin… naturally, they called out to us.” Wyrd murmured softly, Harry tensed, worried then for his friend – both Remy and Logan noticed the reaction though they were not the only ones.
“Worry not, she is well.” Grwy muttered fondly to him, Harry relaxed only a little – for below them the camp came into sight; waiting for them were others who he had grown fond of, how they reacted to his return – he knew very well – might make or break him.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
“Well, it is about time!” Those were the first words of greeting Harry received from his best friend, followed swiftly by a fierce hug. He couldn’t help the smile he was sure split his features. He hadn’t realized how very much he had missed her.
“Apologizes, there was a…updraft.” It was a poor excuse at best, or an outright lie, depending on how it seemed.
Wyrd had, after all, settled easily onto the ground, it had been a quiet decent, the storm winds oddly smooth. He tilted his head to the side, wise eyes on those that fidgeted a respectful distance away from the slender dragon. Grwy had settled against her partners’ neck, watching those who watched them with equal parts amusement and a wary sort-of trust.
Hermione balanced easily on her toes, ‘bouncing’ in this way in place, grinning in a way that told Harry that for years after, this was going to be brought up when Harry didn’t expect it, at drunken parties, maybe. An ice breaker – if only to prove the “boy who lived to be a hero” was human too.
Logan though, made no mistake of his presence, or his feelings to those that – for the most part- surrounded them. His glare was especially dark for Sabertooth and Mystique, for he seemed to avoid Magneto’s gaze all together. Remy stood, only bemused, beside Harry his red on black eyes upon Hermione; Logan had lagged a little bit behind – but both kept themselves between Harry and Grwy (who they did not seem to at all trust) with Wyrd the further back, though that –Harry well knew - would make little difference in the long run.
“Not that I’m displeased that you’re here, Hermione – but why are you here?” It was, after all, the thing he had been puzzled by all along. Bringer of the Wild Hunt or not, they could – he was sure – have found him all on their own. They did not need to bring Hermione to him, unless they knew something he needed to. With information especially, the Wild Hunt was strange, knowing that an individual needed to find something out was – to them – far different then plainly telling what was what.
“It’s all a mess, Harry – when they found out, and when you left…it…went wrong. If you saw it, you’d hardly recognize it I…I almost think there isn’t hope…” Hermione had stilled, so suddenly he had known the moment her excitement in seeing him had passed and when something too much like fear had seeped into his dearest of friends.
“Ron’s changed too, they’ve made muggle born and half bloods worse then second class, we are – in the eyes of the Council and Ministry, barely better then magical creatures, I think.” Hermione confessed, voice barely above a hushed whisper though it did no good with those that surrounded them. Harry stood with her in that moment, not sure what to think – what to say. He had been sure that with his leaving things would cool off and calm down. It was, apparently, not to be so easy.
Grwy moved, it was only a little – hardly enough to catch attention, but he looked to her. He knew then, looking at her, that this was the reason she had brought Hermione to him. So he could see the truth of what had happened with his absence. What was – apparently - happening, even now…he swallowed, and it felt bitter.
“It’s bad then, huh?” Harry managed to say the words, to choke them out. Hermione managed a weak smile in return. They knew how bad things had gone, while the others could only guess. It was how he preferred it, though he knew it would not remain that way. They would know, soon enough.
“Worse then either of you know.” Harry was reminded then, as Grwy spoke, of earlier words. She had told him while flying, that things in the wizarding world needed to be put right. He had always known that. He had thought there would always be time. Not any more though. If the Wild Hunt had woken – not only because of him, but because of the magical community – then things would change. Quickly. The survivors would ensure that.
Another name for the Wild Hunt had been, in the ancient days, the “Oncoming Storm”. That which could not be swayed, if they woke to set the magical world to right – then things were very bad off – worse then ever before; it might be the end of the magical community, and Harry was caught in the midst of it. He looked to Hermione, who saw something in him, for she shared a pained look with him.
“I don’t get it, what the hell is going on?” Harry wondered if Lance would get his answer, or if it would sooner be showed to him.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
“That’s…pretty bad.” It was Fred that spoke first, Harry had left them to think over what he had explained what might happen. To people he had grown up with and beside. Who he had learned to use magic with, this was something Harry cared about, that much was clear.
The Brotherhood had always been close nit – they had each other, and for so long it was all that they had needed. Harry had had a taste of being a part of a world; he had had his own notch hollowed out before he had left. Now his people needed him again. It was understandably upsetting that the ones who had taught him to protect that world might be the ones to destroy it. That too, was a part of the nature of the Wild Hunt, so far as the Brotherhood understood it.
Harry had wandered out with Hermione beside him, her arm folded in his. They looked like they belonged beside each other – though not quite as lovers, but that they were close was obvious. It partly had reminded Fred of a pack of dogs when Pyro and Lance had followed Harry out, without as much as a glance between each other. Remy had followed, as had the man – Logan – who Sabertooth had growled at. Pietro had tagged along after them, looking a bit skittish – but determined – Wanda had almost seemed proud of her twin.
Magneto and Mystique had, of course, left a little after them, Sabertooth had gone with them. It left Fred with Mortimer, and the girls – Rogue and Wanda. They were Harry’s friends – they belonged with the group, but they weren’t as…close to Harry as the other boys were – or his scary “best friend”. Still it was clear enough that the girls approved of Hermione.
“A whole community – world, rather – is about to meet the four horsemen – and all you can say is “pretty bad”…pathetic.” Wanda muttered, her eyes not meeting Fred. She was clearly worried of what would become of the Brotherhood. Rogue sighed softly, attracting the attention of the other three.
“Well, it’s not like we know these people – what if they deserve what’s coming to them? They seemed to have screwed what they had up nicely all on their own.” She did not look anyone in the eyes after saying it. It was shameful, but it was something they had all thought. Was Harry’s world really worth saving, after all, they had been the ones to outcast him.
“They’re strangers.” Fred agreed, glancing to the so far silent Mortimer for his opinion.
“Not to Harry – not to her – its like, I think, something alike Armageddon for them.” Mortimer’s voice was hushed, haunted. Fred was reminded that the Wild Hunt would strike in Europe and though it might be accidental, there would likely be collateral damage.
“So…what do we do?” Fred asked of them, frowning then only a little when Mortimer did not have an answer. For a while they sat in silence, thoughts staying and buzzing uncertainly.
“That isn’t what we should be asking.” Wanda spoke then, straitening, her gaze on the doors their friends had left through only a little while ago. Fred and Mortimer glanced uncertainly to each other, only then turning to Wanda. Mortimer was only a little worried for his crush.
“What is then?” Rogue had only quirked an eyebrow, though it told Wanda more then her words did.
“What will he do…and will we follow him?” Wanda asked them, Rogue nodded slowly, knowing Wanda – for now – had the right of it. She pressed her lips together, for until now they had not thought – yet – of how to get involved with that was going to happen. They had distanced themselves – but what was going to happen would affect them all.
“Of course we will…right?” Fred spoke looking first to the wiry Mortimer; he only shrugged a shoulder – seemingly relieved at Fred’s words – even as if the answer was obvious. It was clear Mortimer had not been sure Fred would agree and had not wanted to go his only friend so had waited to hear what Fred would do.
“Right….” Rogue agreed then, her smile was not entirely pleasant. It promised a certain amount of danger for those that crossed her. It was a strangely comforting gesture.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
“Did you expect something like this, Magneto?” If one did not know to look for it, the lurking danger in Mystique’s tone would not have been heard. Luckily, the three she stood with knew her very well. Sabertooth smirked only a little when Magneto raised an eyebrow at her, for she did not sound merely questioning – she sounded accusing.
“When I told you to take the boy in?” Magneto mused, eyes distant as he seemed to consider his own motives. He was playing though, and both knew it. Mystique pressed her lips, narrowing her eyes at the reminder that Magneto usually considered everything before doing something. He was good at chess for that reason – and he took risks others would not consider.
“Yes.” Mystique did not hiss the word, but the impression of her ire was not to be easily ignored – certainly never dismissed. Magneto was not a fool, of that no one would accuse him. He did not ignore Mystique or her worries.
“No.” Magneto’s answer stilled them. It was somewhat shocking to hear him admit his own weakness when it came to certain knowledge. Yet he had. That above all told them how serious the situation was.
“What will you do?” Sabertooth asked boldly, and Magneto’s fingers tapped a rhythm on his desk. Mystique tensed only a little. Whatever Magneto chose would change things. It was only a question of if – after this – Mystique could work with Magneto without doubting him. That was something Magneto could not afford. It was both Mystique – and to some extent – Sabertooth, knew.
“We will, for now, stand by one of our own – no matter rivalries - is that understood, Sabertooth?” A tilt of the head was all the answer that Magneto needed. It was what Mystique needed as well; to know that – for now, while it suited him – Magneto stood with her and the children. He would not give them up. They were not merely pawns to be sacrificed, as Charles’ had once warned her to the nature of Magneto. It had now proved to be a lie.
“Yes sir.” Sabertooth murmured with a sly smile, smelling the blood that would be spilled and revealing in it. They would stand their ground. The children, after all, had to be protected. It was the future of the Brotherhood and Magneto’s mission they gambled now. There was no choice but to have victory.
“Very good – for now, we have only to wait and see.” Magneto spoke, reminding both to be patient in bidding their time with preparations – but they would be ready, come what may.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
“You should get some sleep.” Harry looked up, unable to help showing his surprise at who had come to visit him. He had expected Remy – or perhaps Logan, or even Pyro and Lance, but not who had walked though the door. A hand moved awkwardly though the fall of silver hair. An uneasy smile crossed his lips, though his eyes were steady. Pietro had pulled off his shirt before coming into the cabin, though his boxers left little to the imagination clinging to his hips as the bit of cloth did.
“What are you doing, Pietro?” A slight pout greeted his question, though Harry found he was more amused then left feeling guilty by it. A slanting of lips showed that a goal had somehow been accomplished. Harry flushed, looking aside wondering all the while what exactly Pietro was thinking.
“Helping you sleep.” Harry could not help the slight snort of amusement the others ‘answer’ brought.
“Somehow, I don’t think that is what is on your mind.” Harry explained his disbelief, feeling slightly uncomfortable in his own t-shirt and low slung boxers. Pietro chuckled then, somehow sensing his unease and seeing the flush over his cheeks. I make this too easy for him. Harry thought, pressing his lips together. Harry did not like to be manipulated. It was something small, though it lingered all the same between them like an unpleasant aftertaste.
“Perhaps… I had something else in mind.” Pietro grinned widely, hinting at things unsaid. Harry glanced upward, having mimicked the movement he saw Pyro give more then once. It was habit forming.
“I want to talk is all; seriously, I mean… do you think the others or your witchy friend would have let me wander in if I was going to ravage you?” It was part confession, though Harry could not help but notice the easy familiarity Pietro held with him. Or the fact that he was unbothered by the intimacy the lack of clothing provided, which was – for him – more then a little distracting.
“What do you want then?” Harry asked of him, ignoring for the moment Pietro’s other question.
“The others are worried, you know? They think they’ve made you think they didn’t enjoy it. Or that it was some warped rape. Or that you think their jealous of each other and won’t touch them – which, I have to say, I’m surprised their taking the multiple lovers thing alright. You know what they say about too many alphas, well, maybe you don’t…” Pietro trailed off, somewhat awkwardly seeing that Harry had closed off his expression.
“Who…?” Harry didn’t finish his sentence, he didn’t need to.
“Remy asked me to look in on you, which I don’t mind, you’re a stand up guy – really can’t blame you for the sex either.” Pietro remembered what Harry had done on the obstacle challenge from hell.
“You and Remy…?” Harry had flushed, not looking Pietro in the eye as he spoke.
“Yeah, but it was never anything, you know …so, no hard feelings, eh?” Pietro rambled, flushed, for talking about Remy and he hadn’t been the reason he’d gone and spoken with Harry.
“Yeah…” Harry mumbled weakly.
“Can I ask you something?” Wary, Harry nodded, Pietro grinned, and though Harry thought he meant to be reassuring there was some mischief in Pietro.
“Why haven’t I gotten even a kiss?” Pietro tilted his head to the side, smirking.
“You…I…” Harry couldn’t be blamed for being taken by surprise by Pietro’s words, his eyes wide.
“Yeah?” Pietro leaned in close, their breath mingling – close enough to brush lips if one of them moved only slightly.
“Aw, screw it.” Harry blurted out, bringing his hand to the back of Pietro’s head and pulling him in for a rough kiss.
They saw more then stars.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Men cloaked in black stood to either side, his hands were chained – so too were his feet and tail for they had learned that lesson early. They whispered of his strangeness. Of the danger of mutants, they had bled him until blue fur was coated in dried blood. They did not use weapons to hurt him, but strange sticks that sputtered to life with a word and colored lights.
With ginger hair, one of his captures – pale skin fevered and freckled - leaned in close to look at his eyes. His bland expression shifted, becoming menacing.
“Harry…we’ve got one of your precious mutants, come collect him or his blood is on your hands.”
Ron…
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
…bump-bah-bump…
“Harry…?”
It hurt. He hurt. It was a tight, clenching pain about his chest. He was vaguely surprised he could still breathe, that his heart still beat. He felt numb, everything but the vision of blood splattered fur and red hair and blue eyes glaring at him hatefully was dim; distorted.
“Harry…what – who - was that?”
Harry took a breath, then another. He found a lie at the tip of his tongue. It should not have been so easy.
“I’m not sure I know.” There was a furious disbelief in Pietro. He was bewildered, frightened. He had wanted only a kiss. Neither of them had expected…this.
“He…he called you by name. There was blood. How can you not know?” Harry hunched in his shoulders, cringing. He knew his words had been flaky at best. He did not blame Pietro for his disbelief. He wondered if the silver haired boy had lost trust in him completely. Harry could find no resentment if he had. This vision proved his worst fear, anyone who had contract with him – they were all in danger.
Harry could not protect them.
“I…I just…” Harry found the words did not come, his gaze to his hands, clenched tight and white knuckled, pale nailed. Weak hands. He felt Pietro touch his shoulder, it was meant to be reassuring, though there was a hesitance that Pietro could not have hidden in his movement.
“Harry…Harry, I…I’m sorry, Harry.” He felt like a traitor to Pietro as he moved into the other boys proximity, leaning on his solid warmth – it was a comfort he did not deserve. Pietro welcomed him, holding him – murmuring soft meaningless reassurances. Harry closed his eyes, and wished – heart aching as he did - that Pietro would sleep dreamlessly. It was Harry’s turn to hold Pietro as the other boy slumped – crumpling, his body unresisting to the pull of gravity.
Harry knew he had to fix this. He had to make things right.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
“See – I told you, he has become a mutant monster!” Ron called from the back, his eyes wild, Harry found himself curling his lip in a sneer.
The words, spoken from his best friend’s lips – that had driven him over the edge. That had given him fury to denounce the magical world….
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Nightcrawler Revealed To Be In Clutches Of Wizards
Harry Believes Ron To Be Commander Of Wizard Army
Harry Does Not Let Them Know – Fears Hermione’s Reaction
Pietro Freaked/ Harry Offers Drink, Is Sleeping Drought
Harry Goes To Confront Wizards;
Logan Follows In Shadows. Grwy Watches
Hermione/Wanda/Rogue Are Banshee; Grwy Led To Clutch Of Wyrd Off Spring
Not Ron- is Percy, Ron Missing ? Percy Blame Nightcrawler/Mutants Wanted Revenge
Have To Find Ron; Go Back To Hogwarts/Wizard World Who Believed Harry Kidnapped
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
