I finally finished Part 4! Wahooooooooo! And I wrote that little Hodge ditty too! I hope some people liked that! As ever, if you've got some comments, my address is just down there. Feel free to send Feedback - I thrive on it! I'd also just like to say my heart truly goes out to all those people who died in the Trade Centre Catastrophe, and that you should do your best to help such organisations as the (American) Red Cross. I gave a small sum of cash (Which I REALLY couldn't aford on my Student's wages- but that's not the matter), and hope that you do too. All New Mutants, X-Men, etc. characters belong to Marvel comics. Any others (Dave, as well as the "modified characters") are mine, ALL MINE!!!!! Author - D. Cypher Email - Darryll_Newvani@Hotmail.com Title - Doug Ramsey + The New Mutants - All is fair in war, love, and mutancy. Summary -- In an alternate universe where the Xavier mansion is a gigantic school complex (And where certain characters are younger than they should be -- BLAME CONTINUITY!), a confused and bewildered Doug Ramsey finds himself trying to prove himself worthy and manly enough for new-student Rahne Cassidy. However, as always, school will get in his way, and he has to find ways to get around it. References to (I guess I have to list these so that the authors know I'm not ripping them off): a lot of 60's/70's/80's/British music/films. I am not insulting Blink 182 in this chapter, I just needed a band whose name i could slot Jumpin' Beezers into. Genre -- Humour, Real-life Issues Notes -- This was originally written as a Birthday gift for Luba Kmetyk. This is probably gonna be quite long, so we'll take this as part 4 (out of about ten!). Doug Ramsey - All is fair in love, war, and mutancy Part 4 - Holy Jumpin' Larry Bodines! By D. Cypher Friday, April 6th, 8:13pm Interlude 2: Larry and Dave "Go on Larry, you know you wanna." "No-Way!" "Look -- She'll never even give you a second glance if you don't show more self-assertion", wisely spoke the boy in the Ozzy-Osbourne inspired clothing, "plus you've been trying to pull yerself together to talk to her for weeks!" Dave placed his hand on the younger boy's shoulder, lowering his tinted shades to reveal sympathetic eyes. "I know exactly what yer going through." He cleaned his specs with the sleeve of his "Blizzard of Oz" costume. "Me and Marie never got on at first -- she was too self-absorbed, too much of that tarot stuff I think -- and I was too bleedin' shy--" "Gimme a sec, Dave -- I think I've got a heat-induced headache." The younger boy looked down at the floor, and removed his "Hippy" wig and sixties-shades so he could wipe his forehead. Larry knew Dave knew what he was talking about -- he was his closest friend along with Tom and Piotr, the other "Top-Grade" art students at Xavier's -- and he treasured his words like the bible. He dropped his sheep-fleece waist-coat to the floor -- he knew he was wearing far too much in this swealtering party heat, even for a hippy -- and looked back up at Dave. "I feel better now," Larry smiled, his mousy, neck-length hair matted and soaked with sweat, "you can carry on." Dave smiled back in recognition "--as I was saying, I was too bleedin' shy, and thus we stayed apart. That was until Bobby saw me pouting over her, and told me--" "Which one - DaCosta or Drake?" "Dacosta -- believe it or not. He told me to be more assertive, or he'd steal her away from me--" "Clever bastard," Larry smirked, "clever, manipulating, self-obsessed, sex-mad, egotistical bastard!" "--Exactly! So I plucked up my courage, talked to her -- and now we've been going out for almost two years!" "Brilliant Dave, absolutely brilliant -- and how is that supposed to help me get--" "Get what, this?" Dave's arm spun round and tore a flyer off the wall. It advertised 'Higher Grade classes in Telepathic control' with Mr. Wyngarde and Ms Grey-Summers. He moved his finger over the inked letters and, at his mental command, the ink left the paper and swam onto the point of his finger. He quickly dragged his finger over the now-blank paper like a pen (his mutant ability), leaving a no-drip, no-smear line of ink, that when completed, revealed a perfect image of-- "A crudely sketched old woman's face?" sneered Larry. Dave tutted and playfully clipped Larry's ear with his now ink-free hand. "Squint and turn yer head, Bodine!" "Uhhh, I still can't see", he replied, his head at an almost disjointed angle. "Ahh! Kitty!" Dave beamed. Another masterpiece completed. "It's quite good actually, Dave." Larry looked at the telekinetic ink sketch in his hand. "But I think she looks more like -- this." One of Larry's phenomenal light-sculptures began to materialise, prompting Dave to comediacly scream "STOP IT! STOPPP IIIIIIIIIIT!!!!", and bat it back out of existence. "Enough with the Light sculptures my boy, but you can keep that pic' you got there." "Really? -- You are usually quite protective of your work. I remember that one time when--" "Keep it, quit stallin', and GET OVER THERE!" Dave grabbed Larry's shoulders, pivoting him around at break-neck speed so that he faced the other side of the upstairs balcony that looked over the 'dance-hall' below. The other side was where the food tables were. "Get over where?" yelped Bodine. "Food-tables, Kitty, four o'clock!" Dave spoke in a mock-jet-pilot's voice. "Fire! Fire!! Fire!!!" "With tremendous force, Dave pushed Larry through the mingling crowds of talkative, resting couples and mutants, and well on his way towards the girl he had a crush on. "Cute, Dave, real cute!" Larry yelled to Dave from the other side of the balcony, tossing him back the picture. "Good luck, Light-Boy-Junior!" The Ozzy-fan shouted back, his hands catching his own sketch. "Yeahyeahyeah, rightbackatcha," he mumbled to himself, strolling towards the table of food. *********** Kitty smiled to herself as she scooped a small pile of chips from one of the food table's many bowls, plates and dispensors, and transported them to her paper plate. The band had just finished a very succesful set (seeing as they had been playing for over 2 hours, it must've been good if they hadn't been booed 'off-stage'), and now someone had put on a CD, full of "relaxing" tracks, unable to dance along to in any sort of fashion, and thus everyone had left the dancing area and were now just chatting amongst themselves. 'The Cranberries - Zombie' was currently playing -- if this was the same CD Kitty had heard used at all the other recent parties, the next tracks were 'The Rolling Stones - Gimme Shelter' and 'David Bowie - Ashes to Ashes'. It was upon these thoughts that Kitty was now thinking, and a tune began to leak from her whistling lips. "Ashes to ashes, funky to funky..." she muttered under her breath as she carefully selected one of the last surviving chicken legs from the selection of foods. "We know Major Tom's a junky--" "Hi, Kitty." Katherine Pryde un-narrowed her eyes from their 'food-selecting' setting, and spun around on her heel. All in all, Larry found it kind of elegant. "Oh-- Hi Larry." He sighed in appreciation. Of course, Larry would find anything elegant about a girl he had such a crush on. "Errrrrrrr...." he struggled for "ice-breaking" conversation, ".........how are you?" "I'm good, good," smiled Kitty, "That's a good costume, Larry -- I like the trousers especially!" "Heheh... Thanks -- It took me ages to adjust the bell bottoms." "Really? You did them yourself?" "Yep." He smiled contently down at them - standard jeans with flared-alterations he'd done with some flowery fabrics he'd found in a charity shop. "Cool." Bitter, uninterupted silence. Larry struggled for something to say. Once the Cranberries finished, the Stones did come on, just like Kitty had thought. Kitty looked down at her plate, also struggling for conversational topics. Arguably one of the greatest intros in history began playing on the stereo-system. "I......... err, like your dress." "Thanks -- Dani' let me borrow it." "It suits you." "You think? It's far too pink for me." "Well, when I say it suits you, I meant--" "Kitty! There you are!" Both of the partygoers turned to see a tall man with unkempt dark hair, dressed in a Bond-style dinner jacket, climbing up the spiral staircase and rushing to Kitty's side. "Pete! Where'd you go off to?" "Pete?" Larry thought to himself. "Who the heck is this unkempt, British, smoking lout who calls himself Pete?!?!" "Oh -- I was just outside talking with Jamie and Kevin. It's quite a nice night out there already." "I just came up here for some food," Kitty gestured towards the table, just glimpsing a somewhat embarrassed Larry through the corner of her eye, "Oh... Pete, this is Larry Bodine, one of Xavier's Premier Art-Students -- Larry, this is Pete Wisdom, he came here today alongside Dr. Mactaggert." The tall Brit smiled and leaned over to shake Larry's hand. "Charmed!" Larry smiled politely back, trying not to squirm. "Nice to meet you!" "Well... Kitty, if you want -- the sun's just setting... if you wanna see it go down-" "Wow!" Kitty's eyes gleamed. "Sure! That'd be lush!" With that, she turned around and took Pete's hand, and the two made their way to the stairs, hand-in-hand. She even forgot her plate. "Ummmm - Kitty?" Larry called. The pair turned back around. He tried to bring himself to ask Kitty for a dance, like Dave had told him earlier about assertion, but it just didn't seem to work. "......You forgot your plate." "Ohhh... You can have it, Larry!" she smiled back, before turning around and leaning her head into Pete's shoulder. "Oh, nice meeting you, Larry." Pete also smiled back, giving Larry a thumbs-up back. And with that, they went down the staircase. Larry stood by himself, looking at his feet. A tear welled up in his eyes, and he began to make his way back to Dave. Seconds later, he stopped, turned around, picked up Kitty's food, then carried on back, determined not to let *everything* go to waste. *********** Doug slouched on the Bench on the Boathouse's lake-side balcony, his bowler and cane lay on the floor while he twirled one of his hair's several curls with his fingers. He was peering at the other side of the balcony where Rahne was getting to know two new friends. Catseye had found Doug and Rahne a couple of hours ago and, since then, Doug believed that Cats' had developed as close a friendship with Rahne as he had. At this point in time, Cats' was introducing Rahne to Marie-Ange, one of Emma's 'Hellions' who was currently dating Doug and Tom's friend Dave, another British 'transfer' student. Marie-Ange had an unhealthy intrest in the tarot, and always seemed to carry a deck of the elusive occult-medium with her. Doug remembered that until recently, Marie-Ange had been somewhat self-absorbed, not really getting on with other students, but since the start of her time with Dave, she had become a lot more friendly -- and Cats' was one of those friends. Marie-Ange was currently cutting a Tarot deck, and trying to explain to Rahne the basics of the Tarot -- something she tried to tell ALL of her friends. While Cats' was resting on her arms, slouched on the table, her eyes carefully watching all of Marie's movements, Rahne was on the other side of Marie, her eyes also watching her quick-hand movements but more in a sceptical sense -- possibly scared, even. He knew Rahne had been brought up rather strictly on Catholicism, so things like the Tarot, the Occult, and even Sex seemed sinful to her -- but now her mother Moira and foster-sister Theresa were trying to help her understand such things in a lighter perspective. "Doug?" Doug suddenly jumped to attention, his body automatically moving to an upright position, and his thoughts drifted away, put on the highest shelf of his mind by reality. He turned to see who the newcomer was. Sam Guthrie stood in front of Ramsey in full-Rock-Groupie-Leather outfit. Combined with his abnormally tall stature, he looked even more comical than usual. "Oh... Hey, Sam." "Hi -- Ah just thought Ah'd tell you that coach wants all the players for tommorrah's game against Bayville in bed before 10." Sam was a man of ethics, and determined to become as good a student as possible -- and as captain, he always followed any rules or commands from teachers to a tee. "...you are playing tommorrow, aren't ya?" Doug checked his watch - almost 9:20. "Sure -- Judd's got me and Tom as subs." "Jones?" Guthrie bent down to sit on the bench. "Yeah." A smile appeered on Sam's face. "Good -- he might not be extraordinarily nippy, but he's got a nice long throw on him." Sam gestured with his arm. "Cool! I never really noticed..." "Yeah, Tom's a pretty good thrower... You on the other hand, Doug, may not be as good a thrower as Tom, but you've got keen eye-sight. Ah'll be relying on you to spot any 'traps'." "Oh... Ok!" Doug was a little dumbfounded by Sam's attention to detail. "Oh -- by the way, Doug, I finished the book you lent me." "You finished 'Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy' already? I only lent it to you yesterday!" "Yeah, well, Ah was EXTREMELY bored last night. Not my sort of 'Sci-fi-cup-of-tea,' that Douglas Adams. I'm more a Larry Niven man meself." Sam stopped to adjust the tightness on his leather vest, and gave in to a small chuckle, "However, I can't deny that it was quite a nice little read. Ah like'd the bit with the pair o' missiles turnin' into a Sperm Whale and a bowl o' petunias-" "'Oh, No, Not again!'" Doug butted in with a smile. "That's the one!" The two of them gave in to laughter but, after a few seconds, it died down. Doug looked down at his feet, then up at Sam, his face screwed up in amusement -- he was almost bright pink in shade. He looked like he was going to pop, when he burst out with -- "'Slartibartfast' -- What a stupid name!!!" Inevitabbly, the hysterics enveloped them both as they remembered the almost-impossible name of the Magrathean Planet-Designer who had been given an award for his work on Finland's fjords. *********** Opposite the giggling loons, Rahne twisted her head away from Marie-Ange's exhibition of how to correctly manipulate the cards of an elemental Tarot, in order to see where the sudden cacopheny of laughter had come from. "At least it's good to see that Doug's got good friends here," Rahne smiled, turning to Cats', whose head rose up from her arms, an almost permanent smile on her face. "Oh yes," she began, her large green eyes reflecting the twinkling night's stars, "Dougie-Clever-Tongue is very popular with all learning-people at Xavy... Zavvy..." Cats' gave a little disgruntled noise as she tried to pronounce the unusual word. "Xavier's," said Marie-Ange, her eyes never leaving the pack of cards she split carefully. "Xavier's Academy for Gifted Youngsters." "Oh -- Thank-you, best-friend-Marie." She gave a cheesy grin to Marie-Ange, "Anyway, like I was saying, Dougie likes to help the others at Xavy-Zavv... here. Furinstaz, yesterday, in the shoppy-shop-town, after-skool, some nasty-bullies were picking on Clever-Kid Taki outside the building-models shop--" "Taki?" "He's a transfer student, Rahne -- Japanese. Autistic. Has to use a wheelchair. Has a certain talent with inanimate objects." "Oh, thanks, Marie." "Pleasure." "Anyways -- Dougie-Clever-Tongue went over to the boys and said 'Hey - You kids better not hit Clever-Kid Taki, or Dougie-Clever-Tongue'll open a can of whupass'... or sumfin' like that." Cats' scratched her head, confused. For the first time in the conversation, Marie-Ange lifted her eyes from the cards. "You're getting mixed up with that episode of 'The A-Team' you saw last night, Cats', " Marie corrected her with a grin, "That's what Mr. T said -- 'I'm gonna open a full can of Whupass on you two-bit punks'." Rahne couldn't help but giggle at Marie's impression - B.A.Barracus' voice mingled with a French accent was an amusing sight. "Oh -- So Cats did!" Sharon smiled, "Ok, you tell New-Friend-Rahne what happened, Best-Friend, you were there too!" She sounded like a child begging for a favourite toy. "Well, Doug just told the kids that if they didn't leave Taki alone, he'd curse their home computers, giving them access only to the MSN homepage and David-Bowie-Lyrics website." "What's so bad about David Bowie?" "Nothing - But didn't you hear 'Ashes to Ashes' earlier?" The French-Gypsie gave the Scots ward a humoured, yet inquisitive glance. "The 3rd verse is enough to warp your mind." "Which lines are they?" It seemed to Marie that Rahne was permanently asking questions -- an inquisitive streak. A hand landed on her shoulder, and she spun round. It belonged to a relatively tall, well-built boy, with tinted glasses, a thick slop of brown hair set upon a cheery face. The cross around his neck and the bat-broach clipped on a leather jerkin was what caught Rahne's eyes. "Hey, Sketchy-Draw-Dave!" came Cats, a big smile on her face. "Hi there, Cats'," spoke Dave, turning his attention to Marie-Ange, as he slowly walked round the table to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, I wondered where you were." Marie tilted her neck so she peered into his eyes, a large grin on her face -- already a rare sight in Rahne's books. "I told Larry to say I was here." "Well, unfortunately he had other things on his mind." With an uncertain look, he gestured to Larry, who was now talkin' to Doug and Sam, a tear in his eye and a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Kitty?" she answered, like the problem was obvious. "Poor Larry..." said Cats', less bouyant than usual. Dave gave a sigh. "She was with some smarmy English git in a tuxedo. Didn't even give poor Larry a good look. He feels awful." "Wisdom..." Rahne murmurred, a little too loud to be to just herself. "Anyway, " Dave's face lit up again, as did everyone else's, "To answer your question Rahne, the lyrics are: 'The Shrieking of Nothing is killing, Just pictures of Jap' girls in synthesis, and I--'" "'--Aint got no money, an' I ain't got no hair," came a smiling, cheery face with sensitive blue eyes, and a matted blond fringe over one eye. Sam stood behind him, his hand on a sniffling Larry's shoulder. "Didn't know you were a Bowie fan, Doug?" the Osbourne-Bowie acolyte asked in a pleased tone. "You know me, Dave," Doug shrugged his shoulders, grinning. "Queen, Beatles, Lila, Bowie, Osbourne, Skynnyrd, even bloody bands like Slipknot, Korn, and Blink-Arse-1-bloody-8-Jumpin'Beezers!-2 -- as long as they've got enjoyable rythm, tunes, or humorous or confusing lyrics, I'm gonna like it." "I think it's time we made a move, Doug." Sam' looked Doug in the eye. "Going so soon! Why don't you stay longer??" Rahne jumped out of her chair -- surprised and determined not to let her new friend leave yet. Doug turned to Rahne; a compassionate, understanding look met her eyes. He walked over to her, and took her hand. "Rahney, I have to go get some shut-eye for the big-game tommorrow. I'm sorry." "The Basketball game -- Against the school's old rival, Bayville?" It sounded like a cheesy line straight out of 'Saved By The Bell'. "Yeah," he smirked and gave a slight giggle. Rahne also did so. Everyone else no longer seemed to be paying attention, they were all now trying to cheer up poor Larry. "Have you been doing research?" Rahne swayed like a mischievous schoolgirl, her head set into her shoulders, a big grin on her face, and her eyes peering from under furrowed brows. "Maaayyybe..." she taunted. Doug took a gulp, and shook away the tantalizing fantasies that burrowed through his ears, flashed before his eyes, and walked across his brain in 10-inch stiletto heels. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway -- You'll be at the game, won't you?" "Front row -- seat 26 -- Lensherr stand!" "Oooooooooooooo!" he acted impressed, as she squeezed tighter on his hand. "Hoop-view!" They both giggled, and looked into each other's eyes. Slowly, Rahne closed her eyes, and inched her lips towards Doug's. Doug panicked... he didn't know what to do. He'd only known her less than a day... A kiss was out of the question! .........but he DID kiss her on the cheek earlier. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cats give hom a flashy, suave smile, as if to say 'Go for it.' But out of his other eye, he saw another face. The face could see Doug, but didn't think Doug could see him from behind the doorway. The face was full of hatred, and Iago-ic malevolence. For some reason, the face hated Doug, and Doug didn't know why. "Let's mosey!" broke in Sam, saving Doug from an embarrasing moment. He grabbed Doug's wrist, and yanked him away from the others, startling them -- Rahne especially. "S-See you all tommorrow!!" He waved with his free hand. "Sweet Dreams, Rahne!" "Y-You too..." A look of disappointment enveloped her face. Doug felt he'd let her down. And with that, Sam dragged him out of the Boat House. *********** The face from behind the doorway gave Doug another shifty glare as he left. 'How, how could such a gentleman like Ramsey make such a sweet young lady like Rahne so happy, yet so crestfallen at the same tme? He was a monster! He has to be taught a lesson or two...' Rictor stamped his foot with hatred. "Soon, very soon," he murmured to himself, "the walking thesaurus dies." END OF PART 4 Next: - A nice, relaxing game of basketball. But how can it be relaxing when Sunspot and Rictor are on your team??