Subject: [OTL]: (Neowind; Summers descendants) Sororius (PG-13) Date: Mon, 9 Dec 2002 20:34:16 -0800 (PST) From: Phil Hartman will1@earthling.net Neowind Arc: Sororius by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: The kids are my creations. Their parents belong to either Marvel or Joss Whedon. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue. NOTE: Thematically, the flip side of Fraternis - the rest will explain itself ... -------------------------------------------------------- 6/16/2023: Askani Spire, Neohattan: 18:30 hrs EDT: -------------------------------------------------------- "No." "Yes." "NO." "If you don't, I'll drag you along and force fun down your throat." "Morgan," Aislinn Richards - 13, Caucasian, short red hair, green eyes, black skinsuit and dangerous expression - growled at her cousin. "I am not a party person." Morgan Summers - Aislinn's cousin by Nathan Summers, Aislinn's uncle - crossed her arms and gave the chronovariant girl a dire look. "You need this. If Payne can drag Aidan out into the woods up by the Xavier Ruins (SEE Neowind: Fraternis), then we can drag you to one ridiculous dance club," Morgan scowled, her blue eyes narrowing beneath brown bangs. Aislinn took a deep breath and tried to launch into an explanation of why being forced to go to the Gene Cave wasn't a wise choice because of a variety of reasons. She decided that the look in Morgan's eyes was a warning that wisdom wasn't going to apply here. "Fine," Aislinn growled. "But don't you dare think I HAVE to have fun. I'm in the middle of an important chronal analysis. Something dangerous is coming in our future, and I'm trying to figure out what it is." Morgan smirked and rolled her eyes as she dragged Aislinn after her out of the chronovariance laboratory. "You're a CV. Something dangerous is ALWAYS coming in our future. Death by boredom springs to mind," the telepath/telekinetic laughed. -------------------------------------------------------- "You're kidding me !" "Melanie ..." Deirdre Summers - Morgan and Aislinn's aunt, and the sister of Nathan (Morgan's father) and Rachel (Aislinn's mother) Summers - groaned. She let red hair spill around her face as she watched her green-haired cousin dig in her closet. "We're expected to go clubbing in common black skinsuits !?" Melanie Summers half-gasped. The green-haired daughter of Alex and Lorna Summers - Deirdre's uncle and aunt - looked horrified, and Deirdre tried not to roll her own green eyes. "I'm not happy about this either. Frankly, the more clothing, the better," Deirdre muttered. "But it's a mutant-only club, and we're mutants, and -" Melanie sat beside "Deedee," and gave the telepath such a pitying look that the usually-patient Deirdre seriously considered putting the nearest pillow upside her magnakinetic cousin's head. "Dee. Deirdre, Deirdre, Deirdre," Melanie said, pity and misguided compassion radiating from her against Deirdre's mindshield. "We're mutants. It's the 21st century. We have to be not only chic, but evolutionarily chic as well." A gagging noise made the girls look up, and provoked a brief smile from Deirdre. "Evolution is a matter of perception," Magdalena Summers - Deirdre's last niece, by her sister Buffy Summers and Buffy's husband, the ex-vampire known only as Angel - said in a tone somewhere between contempt and amusement. "For example, one could say that you've evolved genetically, Mel, but emotionally ... well, an amoeba has more depth." Melanie sputtered, while Maggie grabbed Deirdre by the arm and pulled her from the room. "I'm naming my firstborn after you," Deirdre gushed, leaning on her niece as they fled downstairs. "Middle name will be fine, Dee," Maggie deadpanned. "Now, let's find Morgan and Ace and work up a plan to leave Mel with a well-meaning pack of fashionistas once we get to the Gene Cave." -------------------------------------------------------- It was ... loud. #I can see why the Logan twins detest this place,# Morgan admitted mentally to herself after she and the rest of the girls had been teleported over by the Askani Gatekeeper on evening shift at the Spire. It wasn't so much the chrome, strobes and colored lights which were causing the sensory overload. Nor was it the rather dated, 2010's-era remixes of various post-Uprising songs by mutant artists. It was the telepathic and empathic atmosphere. #No wonder some 'paths get off on other people's emotions. This place is through the roof already,# Morgan thought, leading the others to a corner table. "Five Drake waters," Deirdre ordered, charging the tab to her parents' account. The waitress smiled, waving tentacles as she headed for the bar. ~You OK?~ Aislinn asked Morgan, Deirdre and Maggie telepathically. ~As long as I keep my shields up ... gives a new meaning to 'high on life,'~ Morgan sent with a wry mental smirk. ~It's a good thing, really. No intoxicants needed - and the music's got so many subharmonics and other tweaks that it can alter your emotions. Who needs to get strung out on some chemical crud anyhow ?~ Deirdre sent. ~Amen. Doesn't mean that some mutants are unwilling to go that route. But if they want to end up brainburned, it's their funeral,~ Maggie sent, her eyes taking in the large dance floor. "AHEM." The telepaths among the group looked sheepishly at Melanie, who was on her feet and frowning. "SOME of us are here to have a good time. I'm going to go find some people who are out to enjoy themselves and mingle," she said, turning to go. "I'll go keep an eye on her," Maggie offered, standing. "You keep my water for me - I'll see if I can track down some companionship." "Just nothing with fangs !" Morgan teased. Maggie smirked at her over her shoulder and waded into the dance crowd. #With my family history, that's a disturbing possibility,# she thought. As the daughter of the only Slayer - the young woman chosen every generation to combat all sorts of supernatural evil and take it out - known to have reproduced, Maggie was the recipient of a formidable array of mutant genes for superhuman powers. Her unique genetic heritage also included her grandparents' mutant mishmash of psionic and energy-projective power genes, and the still-undeciphered latencies from her father Angel, whose time as a vampire had undeniably altered his genetic structure. #Heightened strength, reaction time, durability, telepathy, telekinesis ... I am the whole package,# Maggie thought, allowing herself a momentary grin. Then she spin-kicked, glaring at the rather ugly creature the crowd had mistaken as just another mutant. -------------------------------------------------------- "VAMPIRE !!!!!!!" The Summers girls got to their feet, the telepaths already sensing Maggie's shift from semi-euphoric partying to combat-ready attack mode - and the crowd's sudden spike of fear. "I'll carve a path through the crowd. Dee, keep them from panicking and see if you can tag any other vamps. Ace, find Mel and -" Morgan began, her tactical gifts kicking in. A sizzling sound, followed by the shrieks and muffled applause of the crowd, was punctuated by a bright blue bolt of lightning near one edge of the hole in the crowd. "MEL !" Maggie yelled, scowling as she and the smug-looking Melanie walked out of the ring of partygoers. "I could've - what if he had friends -" "That vermin was ruining my evening. Worse, he insulted my fashion taste. And he was about to bite your neck. Really ! A vampire in the Gene Cave - remind me to complain to the management," Melanie said, flicking a hand absently as she sat at the table. The other girls traded dark looks, but sat down reluctantly. The manager - a small, middle-aged man with dark blue skin and a bad wig - came scampering by and handed them a bill with the words "On the house." "The least he could do," Melanie said, smiling. "You flash-fried a vampire in the middle of a crowded dance floor !" Morgan snapped. "Well, what would've you done ? Whipped out your psimitar and performed some kind of elaborate weapon dance ? This isn't the United Kingdom, Morgan. Psimitar-flashing in a place like this is declasse, not to mention that the Askani aren't exactly welcome among the chic," Melanie sniffed. Morgan actually began to turn purple until Maggie and Deirdre put hands on either of her shoulders. "The vamp is gone. Let's just try to relax," Maggie said, calmly. "A toast. To the modern Summers women - proof that all you really need to get rid of angst is a good vampire roast," Aislinn suggested, holding her bottled water high. The other girls laughed, releasing their tension, and shared the toast. "So. You seem better after ..." Deirdre said softly to Aislinn. The chronovariant took a long sip, then set her water down. "I'm dealing," Aislinn said, leaning back in her seat. "Arawn's ... disappearance (SEE Neowind: Kith and Kin) was harder on Aidan and Bryce than it was me. Arawn always treated me decently, but Aid's still guilty, and Bryce ... he's just confused and scared. He's done nothing wrong, but he's so caring and empathetic that he's hurting." "Poor kid. Arawn was always an obonxious flonq. I'm not surprised he cared so little to scare everyone when he disappeared," Morgan growled. "He cheated in psimitar training." "Nel'aira allowed that ?" Maggie said, surprised. "No, but she's not a clairsentient. She can't catch everything in a room full of emotionally-hyped weapons trainees whose shields are usually substandard," Morgan grumbled. "It's hard enough being a tepe without getting worked up in a psimitar duel." "Makes me glad I'm not a telekinetic," Deirdre said softly. "I can just go into counseling like I want to." #But you need me now,# she thought, looking at her nieces and cousin with concern. Deirdre's telepathic gift was strongest in the empathic range - she was both a telepath and a true, seperately-powered empath, able to pick up on emotional cues as well as the thoughts which prompted them. Aislinn was less guilt-ridden than her twin brother Aidan, but had more concern for the future thanks to the unsettling precognitive visions she had. Morgan was driven to lead, as much by her father's intimidating legacy and somewhat stoic ways as by the muticentric absurdities of Morgan's fraternal twin brother Payne. Melanie ... Deirdre wasn't sure WHAT was driving Melanie to put on the flaky society diva illusion. Real compassion lurked beneath the remarkably shallow mask, but Melanie so rarely let it come out. And Maggie was Maggie - well-adjusted, multi-faceted, and remarkably well-shielded for a girl their age. Kind, yet able and ready to kick supernatural butt in an instant, she would be a superb Slayer - or an Askani warrior if necessary. #And what about me ? I try to get everyone's secrets so I can help them, but am I doing it for them or for me ?# Deirdre pondered. "Dee. Relax," Morgan commanded, gently. The girl's order drew her aunt out of her reverie, and Deirdre smiled faintly. "To us," Deirdre toasted. "In all our complicated weirdness." "To us," the others echoed solemnly. Before they broke into giggles. #Yeah. Deep. That's us,# Deirdre thought, managing a smile. -------------------------------------------------------- finis ... for now ;)