Fan Fiction ❯ Changing Patterns ❯ Challenges Await ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Darkfire Storm 
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Fantasy / Adventure | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 03.31.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 209 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Fantasy / Adventure | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 03.31.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 209 | Status: Completed
~Headstrong~
Back off we'll take you on,
Headstrong to take on anyone,
I know that you are wrong,
Headstrong we're headstrong,
Back off we'll take you on,
Headstrong to take on anyone,
I know that you are wrong and this is not where you belong.
.......................................................... ..................................................................
In a large school building, twelve friends met in the commons to discuss the newest changes in the school rules. A tall female, about 5'9” with dark brown hair that gleamed fire-red in the sunlight sat, listening to her friends gossip and debate. She was the oldest in the group, at age 16. Her hard gray eyes seemed distant as she sat in deep thought.
“Plus,” Continued a shorter boy who was at 14, his light brown eyes lively, “The Principal said that anyone who doesn't belong to a club at the end of the week gets a 5% deduction from their end of the year grades for everyday they didn't belong to one.”
“Dumb people...” Exclaimed the girl, also 14, who sat to the eldest girl's immediate left. “This only will encourage gang-like activity.” She shook her flame-red hair angrily.
“What do you think, Lux? Err, Lux?” Probed a young boy who was slightly older than the others at 15. His light blue eyes narrowed as he looked at the grey eyed girl. “Airen?” He tried, using her preffered nickname.
Lux, or Airen, looked up in surprise. “Hmm?” She looked around. The other eleven people watched her cautiously. She was known to have a swift temper and sharp tongue that even her friends were rarely shielded from. She was known to be a bit slow in thought and swift to attack. Lightly covered in muscles that she kept toned in weight lifting, she was not someone to mess with. Her gray eyes were abnormally dark in a stormy-silver color, one that was usually seen when she was placid, at least for the time being.
The others relaxed a bit. Tanner, the 15-year-old, repeated his question. Elisa, the flame-haired girl, watched Airen's eyes cautiously, as did Zenn, who sat nearby, his light-brown eyes carefully neutral.
“It's okay. We already have a cult, why now make it official?” Airen murmured.
“If it's atright, I'd rather be in the basketball club.” Jordan, a tan-skinned girl said.
“I have no problem with that.” Airen replied. “Anyone else?”
..................................................... .......................................................................
Later that day, Airen was sent to the Principal's office. Again. Airen reflected on today's list of excuses when the door opened. She blinked and stood up, stretching her strong, lean frame as she entered the office.
“Lux... Now what?” Principal Oakland moaned. Usually she could keep their private `chats' down to a minimum of two a week, but this was the fith one today. And To think that it was only Third Hour.
Rather than try to lie as she had planed, something she normally did as her real excuses were rather odd, she tried going it the hard way for once.
“John,” Airen began, coming on to first name basis in return for him calling her by her hated first name, “it was the teacher's fault.”
“And how would that be, Lu... Em. Airen?” He asked, taking the hint. Airen surpressed a smirk. At times, she knew that even Principal John Oakheart was afraid of her temper.
“She said the same things over and over. I just did the worksheet.” Airen shrugged. She remembered getting bored with her English teacher's droning on about grammer while she had handed out the papers. Exhausted with trying to understand, she had started on the worksheet before they had been given premission to start. “She made me rip it up. Then she gave me another one. I did that one, and she made me throw that one out too.” Airen leaned back against the wall with a sigh, shoving her hands into her pockets. Damn stupid English teacher. As if Airen didn't already know indirect and direct objects by heart. “I apologized and she said I was giving her an attitude.” Airen smirked then. “She walked by me and I tripped her. End story, what's my punishment?” At the end, Airen yawned.
“Well, for someone who has a, well, nearly perfect score in English, you sure do speak lazily enough.” Airen grinned at this and was about to re- state her report in proper English down to the very last word when the Principal interrupted her, “This is you're tenth visit here this week, fifth TODAY. Airen, I have no choice other than to suspend you.”
“What about the club?” Airen asked. At lunch, they had decided to base their club on the X-Men, the remaining in the group being quite fond of Marvel's mutants in one way or another. Though they would secretly also vent their anger of school and the stupider teachers together too.
“Elisa, your second, will get control, your friends won't suffer for this.” Airen relaxed a bit with a sigh. “Can you walk home?” Airen nodded. “Good. I'll show you to the door.”
..................................................... .......................................................................
`That went better than I expected.' John Oakland thought to himself as he walked down the empty hallways to the nearest exit. He looked again into Airen's placid silver-stormy eyes. `She's gotten better at holding her anger in.'
At the door, he apologized to Airen. “From now until you get back, you're records will remain untouched.” He assured the tall student. She turned to him.
“Really?” She asked, her eyes lightening to pure silver.
“Yes.” He insisted. `How odd. I've never seen her eyes that color... Dammit!'
John hopped up and down, holding his injured leg. Airen had just kicked him, and non-too lightly either. She even had the nerve to wink at him as she left.
............................................................ ................................................................
T hat night, Airen fell across her bed, knowing that she wouldn't be in trouble for getting kicked out of school until the morning when her dad got back from his business trip. A sudden wave of nausea hit her, sending her running into her bathroom. When she had emptied her stomach of her dinner, Airen crawled, shivering, under her covers.
.......................................................... ..................................................................
Erik Magnus Lensherr, more commonly known by many as Magneto, sat behind his metallic desk. The few who had lived long enough to get a good look at him wouldn't recognize him. His once well-kept hair had grown to his shoulders. His keen icy-blue eyes were clouded and dull. The only thing that wasn't unusual about his appearance is the fact that he'd shaved.
With a sigh he leaned back on his chair, glaring at the bottle of aspirin, willing it to work. Unfortunately, this only succeeded in making the headache worse. Someone rapped as softly as they could on a metallic door, but Magneto still inwardly flinched at the loudly-resounding noise.
“Enter.” He growled. The door swung inward noiselessly and a tall teenager stood uncertainly. His medium length auburn hair was neatly kept, and his very presence was graceful. The only part about him that could make him unattractive to any female was his eyes. Crimson red on black eyes make him seem threatening, something that in his line of work, helped.
“Sir? I `ave a letter for you.” He said, obviously nervous in Magneto's presence. Magneto looked at him, his eyes becoming a steel-blue color.
“From whom?” He asked softly.
It was obvious that the tone he used was one of his more dangerous ones, as his Acolyte tensed. He shook his head slowly.
“There was no return address.” He murmured. “Should I get rid of it?”
“No, Gambit. I'll take it.” The teen, Gambit, set a letter he drew from his trench coat on the desk. Knowing his boss, at lest as well as anyone could know the unpredictable and dangerous mutant, he took his leave.
When the door had closed, he picked up the letter. He sent his power through the envelope and found a small piece of metal. He ripped the top off and dumped out the contents: A small, round metal disk with a logo on it and a brief letter.
Magneto,
I am a fan of how you deal with humans. Mayhap sometime we could come to an alliance. But first, I wish to have a trade. One mutant, preferably teen-aged or younger for my gift of eternal youth. But not just any mutant. It must have the power to travel through dimensions. If you accept this trade, say `Yes'. If not, `No'. My logo pin, included in the envelope, has a transmitter. Either word will activate one of two different signals, and I will know your answer.
~Eternity~
Magneto read it over carefully and sighed. `Hell with it. I have nothing better to do right now.' He thought as he looked at the disk. The logo was blood red on black, a shape of the Eye of Horus on it. As he crumpled the paper he said one word, “Yes.”
Back off we'll take you on,
Headstrong to take on anyone,
I know that you are wrong,
Headstrong we're headstrong,
Back off we'll take you on,
Headstrong to take on anyone,
I know that you are wrong and this is not where you belong.
.......................................................... ..................................................................
In a large school building, twelve friends met in the commons to discuss the newest changes in the school rules. A tall female, about 5'9” with dark brown hair that gleamed fire-red in the sunlight sat, listening to her friends gossip and debate. She was the oldest in the group, at age 16. Her hard gray eyes seemed distant as she sat in deep thought.
“Plus,” Continued a shorter boy who was at 14, his light brown eyes lively, “The Principal said that anyone who doesn't belong to a club at the end of the week gets a 5% deduction from their end of the year grades for everyday they didn't belong to one.”
“Dumb people...” Exclaimed the girl, also 14, who sat to the eldest girl's immediate left. “This only will encourage gang-like activity.” She shook her flame-red hair angrily.
“What do you think, Lux? Err, Lux?” Probed a young boy who was slightly older than the others at 15. His light blue eyes narrowed as he looked at the grey eyed girl. “Airen?” He tried, using her preffered nickname.
Lux, or Airen, looked up in surprise. “Hmm?” She looked around. The other eleven people watched her cautiously. She was known to have a swift temper and sharp tongue that even her friends were rarely shielded from. She was known to be a bit slow in thought and swift to attack. Lightly covered in muscles that she kept toned in weight lifting, she was not someone to mess with. Her gray eyes were abnormally dark in a stormy-silver color, one that was usually seen when she was placid, at least for the time being.
The others relaxed a bit. Tanner, the 15-year-old, repeated his question. Elisa, the flame-haired girl, watched Airen's eyes cautiously, as did Zenn, who sat nearby, his light-brown eyes carefully neutral.
“It's okay. We already have a cult, why now make it official?” Airen murmured.
“If it's atright, I'd rather be in the basketball club.” Jordan, a tan-skinned girl said.
“I have no problem with that.” Airen replied. “Anyone else?”
..................................................... .......................................................................
Later that day, Airen was sent to the Principal's office. Again. Airen reflected on today's list of excuses when the door opened. She blinked and stood up, stretching her strong, lean frame as she entered the office.
“Lux... Now what?” Principal Oakland moaned. Usually she could keep their private `chats' down to a minimum of two a week, but this was the fith one today. And To think that it was only Third Hour.
Rather than try to lie as she had planed, something she normally did as her real excuses were rather odd, she tried going it the hard way for once.
“John,” Airen began, coming on to first name basis in return for him calling her by her hated first name, “it was the teacher's fault.”
“And how would that be, Lu... Em. Airen?” He asked, taking the hint. Airen surpressed a smirk. At times, she knew that even Principal John Oakheart was afraid of her temper.
“She said the same things over and over. I just did the worksheet.” Airen shrugged. She remembered getting bored with her English teacher's droning on about grammer while she had handed out the papers. Exhausted with trying to understand, she had started on the worksheet before they had been given premission to start. “She made me rip it up. Then she gave me another one. I did that one, and she made me throw that one out too.” Airen leaned back against the wall with a sigh, shoving her hands into her pockets. Damn stupid English teacher. As if Airen didn't already know indirect and direct objects by heart. “I apologized and she said I was giving her an attitude.” Airen smirked then. “She walked by me and I tripped her. End story, what's my punishment?” At the end, Airen yawned.
“Well, for someone who has a, well, nearly perfect score in English, you sure do speak lazily enough.” Airen grinned at this and was about to re- state her report in proper English down to the very last word when the Principal interrupted her, “This is you're tenth visit here this week, fifth TODAY. Airen, I have no choice other than to suspend you.”
“What about the club?” Airen asked. At lunch, they had decided to base their club on the X-Men, the remaining in the group being quite fond of Marvel's mutants in one way or another. Though they would secretly also vent their anger of school and the stupider teachers together too.
“Elisa, your second, will get control, your friends won't suffer for this.” Airen relaxed a bit with a sigh. “Can you walk home?” Airen nodded. “Good. I'll show you to the door.”
..................................................... .......................................................................
`That went better than I expected.' John Oakland thought to himself as he walked down the empty hallways to the nearest exit. He looked again into Airen's placid silver-stormy eyes. `She's gotten better at holding her anger in.'
At the door, he apologized to Airen. “From now until you get back, you're records will remain untouched.” He assured the tall student. She turned to him.
“Really?” She asked, her eyes lightening to pure silver.
“Yes.” He insisted. `How odd. I've never seen her eyes that color... Dammit!'
John hopped up and down, holding his injured leg. Airen had just kicked him, and non-too lightly either. She even had the nerve to wink at him as she left.
............................................................ ................................................................
T hat night, Airen fell across her bed, knowing that she wouldn't be in trouble for getting kicked out of school until the morning when her dad got back from his business trip. A sudden wave of nausea hit her, sending her running into her bathroom. When she had emptied her stomach of her dinner, Airen crawled, shivering, under her covers.
.......................................................... ..................................................................
Erik Magnus Lensherr, more commonly known by many as Magneto, sat behind his metallic desk. The few who had lived long enough to get a good look at him wouldn't recognize him. His once well-kept hair had grown to his shoulders. His keen icy-blue eyes were clouded and dull. The only thing that wasn't unusual about his appearance is the fact that he'd shaved.
With a sigh he leaned back on his chair, glaring at the bottle of aspirin, willing it to work. Unfortunately, this only succeeded in making the headache worse. Someone rapped as softly as they could on a metallic door, but Magneto still inwardly flinched at the loudly-resounding noise.
“Enter.” He growled. The door swung inward noiselessly and a tall teenager stood uncertainly. His medium length auburn hair was neatly kept, and his very presence was graceful. The only part about him that could make him unattractive to any female was his eyes. Crimson red on black eyes make him seem threatening, something that in his line of work, helped.
“Sir? I `ave a letter for you.” He said, obviously nervous in Magneto's presence. Magneto looked at him, his eyes becoming a steel-blue color.
“From whom?” He asked softly.
It was obvious that the tone he used was one of his more dangerous ones, as his Acolyte tensed. He shook his head slowly.
“There was no return address.” He murmured. “Should I get rid of it?”
“No, Gambit. I'll take it.” The teen, Gambit, set a letter he drew from his trench coat on the desk. Knowing his boss, at lest as well as anyone could know the unpredictable and dangerous mutant, he took his leave.
When the door had closed, he picked up the letter. He sent his power through the envelope and found a small piece of metal. He ripped the top off and dumped out the contents: A small, round metal disk with a logo on it and a brief letter.
Magneto,
I am a fan of how you deal with humans. Mayhap sometime we could come to an alliance. But first, I wish to have a trade. One mutant, preferably teen-aged or younger for my gift of eternal youth. But not just any mutant. It must have the power to travel through dimensions. If you accept this trade, say `Yes'. If not, `No'. My logo pin, included in the envelope, has a transmitter. Either word will activate one of two different signals, and I will know your answer.
~Eternity~
Magneto read it over carefully and sighed. `Hell with it. I have nothing better to do right now.' He thought as he looked at the disk. The logo was blood red on black, a shape of the Eye of Horus on it. As he crumpled the paper he said one word, “Yes.”