Subject: [OTL]: (Richards family) Neowind: Kith and Kin (PG-13) Date: Sat, 30 Nov 2002 20:00:07 -0800 (PST) From: Phil Hartman will1@earthling.net Neowind: Kith and Kin by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: The kids are mine. Their parents are either Marvel's or Joss Whedon's. Any other references belong to their creators. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue. NOTE: Alternate future; explanations below ... -------------------------------------------------------- 6/6/2010: -------------------------------------------------------- He wasn't happy. Arawn Richards scowled as he watched his mother rocking the new arrivals. It was HIS birthday, not theirs. "Up," the year-old boy demanded, hands on hips as he looked at his mother. "Honey, I've got my hands full," Rachel Summers-Richards explained patiently. Her four-day-old twins burbled, and she handed off her younger son to his father while she patted her new daughter's back. "Babies," Arawn huffed, pouting. "Now, your mom'll spend some time with you soon," Franklin tried to reassure his eldest. Arawn just sighed, looking up at where his father was burping Aidan. "Brother," Arawn grumbled. He looked at Rachel, who was rocking Aislinn, and said, more gently, "Sister." "That's right. You're very smart," Rachel said, beaming at Arawn. "C'mere, you - Frank, can you take Ace here for a while ?" "Sure - c'mere, little girl," Frank cooed, deftly taking Aislinn from Rachel. He chuckled as Rachel scooped Arawn up telekinetically, and watched her rock him. "I know you've been lonely, Arawn. But you've got to make some room for Aidan and Aislinn. They're little, but they'll grow up fast enough. And some day, you'll be able to play with them," Rachel said reassuringly. "'Kay," Arawn mumbled, yawning. Being grumpy was hard work. But it seemed to have its rewards. -------------------------------------------------------- She watched, standing for the first time in days, over her children as they slept. ~Bright Lady,~ Rachel's personal assistant, Tory Cloverfoot, sent respectfully from the nursery entrance. Rachel radiated acknowledgement via her telepathy, then kissed the newborns and Arawn good night before turning to look at the younger woman. #Not THAT much younger,# Rachel chuckled inwardly; she herself was only 21. #It's just time and experience that makes me feel older ...# Like most of the Askani Collective's members, Tory was dressed in a yellow and black ensemble, in memory of the man whose ideals formed the basis of the organization's philosophy of social activism and equality for all sentients. Tory's blonde hair was short - above the ear - but she already had a small firebird tattoo on her forehead, just above her sea-green eyes. #I've really got to discourage the others from this whole worship thing,# Rachel thought, walking with Tory towards the waiting knot of visitors. #'Mother Askani' - Mother would do just fine.# "M'Lady, please ! You and your fellow Founders defeated an unholy abomination two years ago ! Our reverence is not meant as an insult, but as a recognition of your rightful place as a leader of all sentients !" Tory gasped aloud, going pale. "I know, I know. But a goddess would recover faster from giving birth," Rachel teased gently. She turned to look at the other women, then sat in a cushioned window nook and asked, "Well ?" The three women - one African-American, with cropped black hair, a second, Caucasian with long red hair, and a third, an Asian woman with a doctor's coat and a wry expression - traded a glance, then looked at Rachel. "Examining the timelines, I'd say you can expect some serious sibling rivalry between the two boys," Hope Lgebwena said, green chronal energy flickering in her eyes. "Then again, just watching Arawn could tell anyone that." "Keeping an eye on him would be advisable, cous," Gailyn Bailey said, squeezing Rachel's forearm. "He feels crowded out right now." "Gail's right, Rachel," Nga Coy Mahn - a medical intern at ESU, and a valued associate of the Askani - added. "It's human nature. Arawn was an only child, and all of a sudden, he's got two more people to share space with. I can't see him becoming violent, but giving him more time with you and Franklin would help." "If I can keep the worship from going to their heads, I'll be one step ahead of the game," Rachel muttered as she gave Tory a polite smile. "I founded the Askani to give a home to mutants and humans orphaned in the Uprising. I never thought my defeat of Abaddon with the Phoenix would be misinterpreted as some kind of miracle." "Well, the Askani are mutating - pun intended," Hope chuckled dryly. "You and Frank set out to provide shelter and assist all of humanity. You've got a social movement going here, as well as charity and volunteer work. I've even heard that the U.N. is looking to the Askani as some kind of global peacekeepers." Rachel groaned and facepalmed, muttering, "We are NOT 'guardians of the Republic'. Just because the psimitars hum and glow when telekinetic energy is channeled through them, and a lot of us wear those silly cloaks over our bodysuits, and a lot of us are telepaths AND telekinetics -" She stopped herself, then looked up and muttered, "Motherhood is easy. Mutant philosophy is hard." -------------------------------------------------------- 2016: -------------------------------------------------------- "{Face me in honorable combat, you low-born son of a wheezing cat} !" "More emphasis on the 'lin'fel,' Arawn," Nathan Summers said, trying not to smirk at his eldest nephew's expression of frustration in the Askani battle-language class. "I think I broke my tongue, Uncle Nate," the 7-year-old complained. Arawn's blue eyes flickered at where his siblings, cousins and younger aunt and uncle were watching, and he scowled. "What'd I do ?" Aidan said innocently. Like Arawn, his hair was a vibrant red, but he preferred to keep his cropped short, and his eyes were green like Aislinn's. "You were repeatin' what I was saying," Arawn accused, crossing his arms. "Can't you learn by yourself ?" Aidan flushed and replied, "I was just trying to practice." The rest of the boys among the 6-year-old Summers descendants scowled at Arawn, while the girls giggled or tried to look busy. "Arawn, why don't you have a seat ?" Nathan recommended. Arawn heard the command in his uncle's tone and obeyed, shooting another dirty look at Aidan. ~You ALWAYS get away with things,~ Arawn sent telepathically, mentally giving his brother a raspberry. ~I do not ! Kal'hefyr MacDougal yelled at me the other day for looking at his psimitar,~ Aidan pshot back. ~I just wanted to feel how heavy it was ...~ ~And you made it work, too,~ Arawn growled telepathically. He grinned cruelly at Aidan's expression of horror; the memory of the psimitar's immense telekinetic force blast blowing out the wall of the Danger Room had left the younger boy guilt-ridden for weeks. "AHEM. Are we done with the telepathic chit-chat, boys ?" Arawn and Aidan looked contrite, severing their psi-link when Nathan's unsettling golden eye swept over them. "Good. Perhaps you can tell me the proper way to pronounce 'dog-spawn' in the battle language, Arawn ?" their uncle demanded. -------------------------------------------------------- 2018: -------------------------------------------------------- He leaned over the cradle, arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow. "I think he's cute," Aislinn cooed, tickling the stomach of the newest addition to the Richards family. Bryce cooed back, looking around through sleepy eyelids with large blue-green eyes. "He's still kinda red and squished," Aidan said, shrugging. "Whaddyathink, 'Rawn ?" Arawn glared over at Aidan, but managed to keep from telepathically radiating contempt and annoyance at the 8-year-old. #No bad feelings around the baby,# Arawn told himself, letting his 9-year-old face express his feelings. "I think he'll grow out of it," Arawn sniffed. "You did. Eventually." "'Rawn ! Aidan was just asking a question," Aislinn rebuked, frowning. Bryce began to whimper, prompting Franklin to wade in amongst his children and pick up the newborn. "I thought you guys promised you wouldn't squabble," Frank said, looking between his older sons with a warning frown. "Take it outside." "But -!" Aidan and Arawn complained. "OUTSIDE," Frank ordered. The older boys' shoulders slumped, and they left as Aislinn watched sadly. "Why can't they just TALK about it ?" she asked, following Frank back to where Rachel was recuperating. "Brothers have a hard time with their feelings. They care about each other, but they're also competing - at sports, at school, among friends ... it's complicated stuff. Boys' relationships, especially brothers, are just as hard to work at as are girls' relationships," Frank explained. "And Arawn and Aidan have never gotten along easily," Rachel said softly. She took Bryce from Frank, who lifted Aislinn onto the bed. "I hope they get 'long with Bryce," Aislinn said sadly. "I don't think they'll ever get along with each other." Frank and Rachel shared a glance, then looked at Aislinn. Their daughter's precognitive talent was already comparable to the most powerful Askani chronovariants, and even exceeded Frank's levels from when he was 8 years old. "I haven't 'seen' them fight into old age. It's more ... a feeling," Aislinn sighed, struggling for the right words. "I'm not good at explaining stuff, I guess." "You do just fine, honey," Frank reassured Aislinn. He watched as she snuggled up beside Rachel and let Bryce squeeze her finger in one tiny hand, then smiled. #At least they're getting along,# he thought, relaxing. -------------------------------------------------------- "YOU got us thrown out !" "Me !? I was just talking !" Arawn tried to come back, but he was at a loss for words; Aidan had just been chatting. Still, he was just SO annoying - "Yeah !? You're a jerk !" Aidan shot back, glaring. "If I had a psimitar -" "You'd blow up another wall. Or maybe the whole Danger Room. You can't even control your telekinesis enough to keep from crushing a rock. No wonder they don't let you have a psimitar," Arawn snarled through gritted teeth. "But nobody ever makes YOU do it over. You just get a break. I have to -" "You have to whine and whine and whine !" Aidan yelled, stomping his foot. "You want to run everything ? Mister bigshot oldest brother ? I'm not sticking around !" He turned to go, fighting the tightening of his throat, and ignored the flicker of emotions on Arawn's face. #He ran away. I don't feel any better,# Arawn realized, slumping into a seat with a scowl. ~And you never will, bossing others around like that,~ an unwelcome and familiar telepathic voice replied haughtily. Arawn looked over, scowling, at his psimitar dueling teacher as she materialized. "I'm the oldest, aren't I? Why don't I get the easy stuff ?" he complained to Nel'aira O'Morgain. The auburn-haired Caucasian woman sat on the footstool of Arawn's chair and smiled wistfully at her student. "Life is never easy. And as the oldest, you are expected to set an example. Someday, you may be selected to take your mother's place as leader of the Askani," the Irish woman said with a light accent. "If it means sittin' around and listening to a bunch of people complain, then forget it. I like the psimitar duels and the psi-stuff," Arawn pronounced. "The Askani are more than just confrontation and psionic trickery," Nel'aira replied, her eyes narrowing. "We are a body of equals, devoted to bettering the world around us and sharing in a communion of ideas and assistance. When you are older, you will come to understand this - should you join the Collective." She stood, walking away, and just smiled wistfully as Arawn muttered, "Who'd want to ?" -------------------------------------------------------- 6/2/2023: -------------------------------------------------------- This, at least, he understood better than the Askani gobbledy-gook. The synthesizer in Arawn's room pounded out his latest beat, while he practiced his banter with a hairbrush - - and a spurt of mental laughter made him freeze. ~Who's there !?~ the 14-year-old demanded telepathically, suspicion and outrage mingling in his mind. He reached out to try and sense the mind in the hallway - - and telekinetically wrenched open the door, shaking his head. "How ?" Arawn demanded, glaring at Aidan. "I brought in psi-dampers and kept my mindshield up. How did you - ?" "I'm clairsentient all of a sudden," Aidan said, shrugging. "And precognitive, and I can heal, and teleport. Doc Mahn thinks it's linked to my hitting adolesence." "Really," Arawn said coldly. Aidan flinched, in a manner the older boy recognized all too well. They could have been mistaken for twins, if Arawn wasn't three inches taller and 20 pounds heavier. Both wore black skinsuits most of the time; both kept their red hair short (although Aidan's was so severely cropped it bordered on red fuzz), and both wielded a psimitar with similar white-gold psionic energy signatures. Only their eyes were markedly different - Aidan's near-emerald green, to Arawn's ice-blue irises. "And I suppose you chose to use your new clairsentience to spy on me," Arawn continued, teking off the synthesizer. "It was easier just to listen to you down the hall," Aidan said, trying not to snarl. "Look, I don't want to fight again. It's my birthday - I just wanted to invite you to the party, if you WANTED, not that you ever do -" "Shut up and go," Arawn spat warningly. "I know it's your birthday. That's why I'm in here and you're out there, or you were." Aidan rolled his eyes, then left as Arawn teked the door shut and sank onto his bed. #'It's my birthday',# Arawn's thoughts echoed in a mocking tone. #Snot-nosed pain in the butt ...# He took a deep breath, pondering why Aidan had even made the effort. Aislinn respected Arawn's desire for space, and Bryce - well, Bryce was 5. There wasn't much Arawn could do to dissuade the younger boy from leaving him alone, but at least Bryce's intrusions were polite visits, instead of Aidan's obnoxious reminders of which Richards brother the family REALLY favored. "Don't I matter ?" Arawn growled, standing up. "To hell with him. I'm going to go get some practice or something ..." He teked his compacted psimitar to his hand, then opened his bedroom door and headed downstairs. -------------------------------------------------------- ~Arawn at 5 o'clock.~ ~PAYNE ! Behave or I'll tell Maya what you thought of her dress.~ ~[mental squeak]~ Arawn fought the urge to roll his eyes at his younger cousins' telepathic banter as he came to the first floor of the Richards' apartment atop the Askani Spire. He took another deep breath, then started towards the front door, hoping that he might actually get out without having to deal with - "Arawn. What's up ?" "Lance," Arawn managed to say from between gritted teeth. The questioner - a blond Caucasian boy with a nervous smile, a plate of cake and widening blue eyes - broke into a sweat. "I'll just go," Lance Summers said, slipping away from Arawn. "You do that," Arawn replied calmly. Lance wasn't that bad, really, considering his parents; Alex and Lorna Summers were cloyingly HUMAN about their post-X-team lives ... Arawn allowed himself to take in Aidan's birthday party as he kept close to the wall and avoided the more raucous party-goers. The guests - their various cousins, as well as Connor and Deirdre Summers, the Richards' kids' peers, as well as their youngest uncle and aunt - were dressed in the ubiquitous black skinsuits preferred by most mutant youth of 2023 as a rejection of human foibles about body image. #A declaration of trans-human respect for a person's actions, not appearance,# Arawn thought approvingly, glancing down at his own skinsuit. #Maybe a song -# BLORCH He stopped, feeling something cold and sticky clinging to his chest, and opened his eyes. "Oh. Boy," Aidan gulped, looking up at Arawn. The younger brother pulled his bowl of ice cream off of Arawn's chest, then held up a napkin and smiled weakly. Arawn's cheek twitched. "Hey, 'Rawn ! Miss your turnoff ? Or are you just a halfscan ?" Payne Summers - the brothers' cousin by their uncle Nathan and his wife, Beatrice - cackled. Arawn's psimitar extended, seemingly of its own accord - - and the entire room was swept by two blast waves of white-gold telekinetic energy. "ARAWN !? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING !?" Aidan howled, countering Arawn's psimitar sweep with one of his own. The rest of the Summers descendants had found cover behind what remained of the furniture, although Payne's sister Morgan was activating her own psimitar and cursing loudly in the battle-language. Arawn really didn't care. That - burst - of anger had felt just SO inviting, and Aidan was already standing here, wielding his own psimitar ... "Let's finish this," the older boy hissed, both hands on his psimitar as he slipped into a battle stance. "Winner take all, little brother. Your obnoxious little one-upmanship versus my anger. The Askani settle their disputes this way, and you so want to become one of them, don't you ?" "Arawn, I don't know what the heck you've been listening to, but I don't want to embarrass you !" Aidan yelled. "I'm just trying to live my life !" There he went again, something in Arawn's subconscious whispered - - and the only sound was the hum and clash of psimitars. Arawn let himself parry, thrust, spin, twist, leap, pirouette - this dance, he could truly embrace, finally showing his own skills, and not watching Aidan show him up AGAIN - But for every step, Aidan countered. He was shouting something, too, Arawn noted, letting the rush of blood in his ears drown out Aidan's seemingly never-ending whining - - "Are you NUTS !? We'll tear the Spire apart if we keep this up !" - - and the blood just got louder. "WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I CARE !?" Arawn howled back, suddenly noticing the impromptu skylight his last upward thrust had blown in the ceiling. "The Askani can fix everything, can't they ? Everything but their promised Heir to Mother's throne ! I'm always the broken one, aren't I, Aidan !? Well, BREAK THIS !" he howled - - lunging forward with one final, rage-empowered downward swing, the energy of the psimitar shifting to reddish-black - - and Aidan countered, a look of horror on his face - - as the psimitars connected. And Arawn's - -------------------------------------------------------- The explosion sent a telekinetic shockwave radiating across Neohattan's skyline, 500 feet above the New City hovercar lanes and 1,000 feet above the mostly-abandoned Underside. Fortunately, the Spire's top was well above any other skyscrapers in Neohattan. #Unfortunately,# Aidan thought, coughing as the smoke from the explosion cleared, #I think I just -# He gaped, relief and new fear roiling, as he saw his sister and other peer-relatives alive inside a multi-layered telekinetic force field. "We're OK !" Aislinn called, smiling in relief. She pointed to a place ahead of Aidan and called, "Check Arawn ! His psimitar exploded !" #Arawn -# Aidan stood, dropping his own telekinetic shield, and surveyed what remained of the Richards' apartment. The top floor - the bedrooms - were gone; the first floor, with the living room, kitchen, spare bathroom and guest room, was shaken, but the Spire's nanocytic repair systems were already transmuting excess air to repair the damage - - and a scorched figure stood amidst the remains of the living room, four feet away from Aidan. Two blue eyes opened, soot crumbling from the eyelids, and Arawn coughed, "Well. You showed me, didn't you ?" "Arawn - !" Aidan pleaded, taking a step forward. Arawn held up a hand, then gave a dark little laugh. "You won. Take the Heir position. You deserve it," the older boy said in a dreamy voice. "I'll just go now - the fallen son, fluttering down from Paradise, never fitting in. Maybe the Underside can use a good joke." He stepped backwards, towards the still-unrepaired edge of the apartment - The air rippled, admitting an infuriated-looking Franklin, Rachel, and the rest of the Askani High Council. Bryce ran to Aislinn and the other teens, then gulped when Frank took a step forward towards the older Richards boys. "Arawn, what are you -" Frank began. He and Rachel gasped, clutching their heads, when Arawn blinked at them and stepped backwards into mid-air. "Farewell," he breathed, and fell. -------------------------------------------------------- "He -" Aidan felt a rough hand patting his shoulder, heard and "heard" Aislinn and Bryce sobbing, tried to feel for Arawn down their blood-tie - "Aidan. Come away from there. He's not dead." The last three words were like cold water, and Aidan stood to look into Frank's grim face. "How - ?" Aidan pleaded, hoping - "Arawn couldn't cut our psi-links to him. He just damped his psi-signature," Frank said, putting an arm around Aidan's shoulders. "It's not your fault - well, maybe part of the apartment's unauthorized redecorating is, but Arawn's just as much to blame - we'll sort this out. "And we WILL find your brother." They walked towards where the medical staff were waiting, the last six words ringing in Aidan's mind. #I hope we do, Dad,# he thought, letting himself be lost in the empathic waves coming from his family. -------------------------------------------------------- EPILOGUE: -------------------------------------------------------- The strobes and holo-lamps flickered in time to the beat, while the skinwear-clad crowd cavorted and cheered. Varyan Markas chuckled, counting the credit-transfers the doormen had uploaded to the Club Tartarus accounts. Another record night ... #And all because of our mystery man,# the Tajik-immigrant bioblast projector thought, shaking his head in wonder at the psionic wunderkind working the booth tonight. "Thank you - a special remix of the Blaire Band's 'Wavelength', with my own grooves," the DJ called as he teked himself over to where Varyan was sitting in a corner booth with two female customers. "Mindquake," Varyan said, handing the boy - and he was really a boy, after all, Mutagenetic Law-allowed-emancipation or not, the bar owner mused - a credit-chip. "Another exceptional evening." "Just basic projective empathy, some sonic hypnosis and my own synth skills. Nothing to write home about," the boy - Caucasian, short red hair, goggles, plain black skinsuit - said matter of factly. "I owe you for the opportunity, Boss." "Eh. You're cheap, you're quiet, and you work any hours. What's to owe ?" Varyan laughed. The women with him laughed, and Mindquake flashed a quick smile. "And where would you write home to, o prodigy ?" the green-skinned woman purred over her drink. Mindquake just looked up for a moment, and Varyan's eyebrows raised - could he mean Uptown ? "Nowhere," Mindquake concluded, smiling that mysterious smile again as he motioned a waitress over. "Somewhere I Fell from. That's old news." -------------------------------------------------------- tbc ... --------------------------------------------------------