Bienvenidos a Miami
“Ya cannae be serious.” Rahne said, pointing, “You’re letting Illyana take the biggest room, an’ the one tha’s got it’s own bloody head!?” Rahne gestured, angrily, her lip pulled back to show an elongated canine despite her own human form. “Tha’ means the rest of us gals are sharin’ one bathroom, an’ you KNOW Amara hogs it in the mornings!”
Amara snorted. “Says the girl who leaves the drain full of fur.”
“Doesnae seem fair, her havin’ that all tae herself—” Rahne began.
“…Who says I’ll be in there alone?” Illyana said, a wintry smirk on her face.
Rahne growled, audibly.
“Ladies, ladies,” Bobby said, stepping in, “Illyana has made some arrangements with me in exchange for getting the master suite.”
Xi’an walked in. “Hey, guys, a demon’s dusting the blinds.”
Rahne swung around to look at Bobby, who shrugged his shoulders and grinned, helplessly. “Support staff.”
“I’ll do ma’ own blasted laundry.” Rahne said, before she turned to Amara. “An’ you had better stick to the bathroom chart, prima donna.”
Amara stuck her tongue out. “So when’s Doug getting back?”
“He’ll be in England for at least another week.” Illyana said, “Spending some time in the English countryside with Brian Braddock. Kitty’s got another job lined up for him after that, but he’ll have a few days in between to get settled in here.”
“SelffriendSam is still emotion:depressed.” Warlock said, extending his head into the room. “Selffriend is currently listening to sad songs by Musician:Willie Nelson.”
Bobby quirked his mouth. “’Whiskey River’ or ‘Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground’, Warlock?”
“’Whiskey River’, SelffriendBobby.” Warlock’s head retreated from the room.
Bobby rolled his eyes. “Okay. That I can work with. He listens to ‘Angel’ when he wants to cry, ‘Whiskey River’ when he wants to be alone, and ‘Redheaded Stranger’ when he’s sad-mad. Now, if he were to switch to George Jones, we’d be in trouble—”
A voice, singing off-key, carried out of the hallway. “SoOoOoOOoon they’ll carrrrrrrry… hiiim awaaaaaaaaaaaay~!”
Bobby put his hands over his eyes and groaned. “And we’re right back to square one. I gotta go tear Sam away from the Possum.” He got up. “If you’ll excuse me.”
After Bobby left them alone, Rahne looked to Xi’an, Illyana, and Amara. “Well… here we are. I…” She cleared her through. “There was a lot we dinnae talk about in New York. But… after everything that’s happened tae me…” She squared her shoulders. “It’s good tae be here with all of ye.”
“Rahne, cloying displays of sentimentality don’t suit me.” Illyana said. “But I’m… sorry. You lost Hrimhari, and then you lost your son—and if it had been me, the world would be suffering for my grief.”
“That—” Rahne paused. “Thank you. I think.”
Xi’an shook her head. “Come on.” She said, “Let’s go out. The city’s our playground, and I could use some sunshine.”
“Agreed.” Amara said, “I adore autumn in New York, but the tropical climate suits me much better.”
Illyana looked up, with an unblinking gaze to the others. “I’m in, if we take Warlock with us. We could use the levity.”
“…Agreed.” Rahne said, before she looked up, and then whistled. “Warlock!” As Warlock loped into the room, Rahne stood up. “Put your face on, love, we’re goin’ out.”
Later: Miami’s Design District…
“When we were living in San Francisco,” Amara said, as the group strolled along a boulevard, “We had this restaurant we went to all the time, they served barbecue.” She paused. “On reflection… the place was… not very good. But it was nice, being together. We should find a Miami place.”
“Jamaican.” Rahne said, as they strolled along, “I vote for Jamaican, they do a proper curry.”
“Cuban.” Amara retorted. “Miami has the best Cuban food in the world, except for actually being in Cuba.”
“When were you in Cuba?” Rahne asked, narrowing her eyes. Xi’an grinned in response.
“Self does not consume food in the same manner as Selffriends, but Self casts Self’s vote for someplace with a band.” Warlock said, disguised as a towering man walking alongside the group.
“Russian.” Illyana said, pushing down her sunglasses, the corner of her mouth turning up as Xi’an and Rahne rolled their eyes.
“Well, we can always—” The sound of an explosion ahead of them stopped Rahne short. “Eh?”
“Let’s check it out.” Xi’an said, before she gestured. “Warlock?”
Warlock looked up, and then transformed into a hovercraft. “Declaration:Everybody on!” As the girls got aboard, Warlock crowed, “Whooooo-aaaaaa-aaaaa, Self needs a hero~” and took off through the streets, rising into the air over cars and stunned onlookers.
“Do you ever wonder if maybe one of us should’ve introduced Warlock to music before Doug did?” Xi’an asked, as she gripped a safety rail Warlock had produced.
“I happen to like Doug’s taste in music.” Amara said, tossing her hair back.
Rahne transformed into her hybrid wolf-form. “Eyes on the prize, ladies!”
The hovercraft came to a stop outside of a convention center, the front of which had been blown out, and was smoking, strewn with rubble. “Warlock.” Xi’an said, “Run a scan, see if you can get us a count of the hostiles.
Warlock transformed into his lanky alien form, and then his arm twisted into a scanning device. “Self is detecting unusual energy signatures inside.” He paused. “…Status:Confusion.”
“What is it, Warlock?” Rahne asked, sniffing the air. “Smells like brimstone…”
Xi’an narrowed her eyes, and then put two fingers on her temple. “I’m borrowing the eyes of a security guard.” She said.
Inside, the security guard rounded a corner, and pulled his gun on a man in a black-armored bodysuit, who turned, and then vanished, in a cloud of noxious gas.
BAMF!
Before the guard could turn, the intruder appeared to his left and lashed out with a kick, knocking him unconscious.
Xi’an snapped to and blinked. “What in the world…?” She looked to the others. “There’s a teleporter in there. And his teleportation tell is identical to Kurt’s.”
“That’s…” Amara paused, “Improbable.”
“It’s suspicious, is what it is.” Rahne said. “Warlock, get rid of the blasted smoke!” She loped forward as someone came staggering out of the building. “Wha’s goin’ on in there today?”
“It’s a science expo!” The terrified convention center staffer said, having fallen to the ground in front of Rahne, “G-genetics and biology!”
“This doesn’t make any sense.” Illyana said.
“Correction, SelffriendIllyana,” Warlock said, as he transformed his hand into a giant fan and began to blow the smoke away, “Selffriends do not yet have a complete collection of pertinent facts.” He turned and leaned in toward the woman on the ground. “Self shall illustrate with a question. Query:Who is the keynote speaker at this convention?” He looked up at the others. “Self has been taking in detective shows on Netflix and many TED talks and lectures on critical thinking skills.” Then he beamed.
“Some… some expert on the Mutant genome! She’s doing cutting-edge research on the Mutant-Inhuman connection—” The woman screamed, as another detonation shook the interior.
“All right.” Xi’an said. “Rahne, Magma, take point. Warlock, bring up the rear.” She pointed to Illyana and gestured to the right, before fanning out to the left, as they entered the lobby.
“Alarm!” Warlock said, jerking his head upward, “Self detects infrared signatures on the upper level, two of which are restraining a third, state:agitation-struggling…!”
“Everybody to me.” Illyana said, as the group drew back in. “Going in hot.” A stepping-disk formed underneath her, and the group sank into-it, before rising out of another stepping-disk onto the upper gallery.
“Shut her up!” A voice called, before three men and a woman emerged from a side door into the gallery. A dark-skinned woman was caught in the grip of two of the men, cursing and struggling. The woman stopped, and then looked up, from the three women, to Warlock. “X-Men. We’ve been made!” She stepped forward. “Get her out the back, I’ll hold them off.”
“You’re not armed,” Karma said, squinting, “How are you going to hold us off?”
The woman grinned, beneath her visored mask, and then clenched her fists. Her skin rippled, and slowly began to transform, her size increasing, before she stood in front of them, her body made of gleaming organic metal.
Illyana narrowed her eyes, and then cursed under her breath. “Warlock, hold her off while we go after the others. As the woman charged, Warlock strode to meet her, launching long techno-organic arms and grappling with her.
“And I will get an explanation for this,” Illyana said, as they gave chase.
“They’re still on us!” One of the black-clad men called, as they dragged the woman backward. One of the men snarled, then cuffed the woman in the side of the head. As he turned, it became apparent that his fingers were clawed, and he had long fangs. “…Which means we have to fight. Good. We finally get to test these powers out against a real target.”
One of the other men looked up, and then flipped up his visor. His eyes glowed red.
“Down!” Amara called, as her body flared with shimmering heat.
Ruby-red energy lanced forth from the man’s eyes, blasting over the room and striking Amara. It splashed off her magma body, and she pushed back against it, but her assailant grinned, and pushed back.
“Sabretooth and Cyclops,” Xi’an breathed, “Great. Well, fortunately we brought the right tools to this fight!” She closed her eyes, and suddenly the fanged assailant’s eyes glowed red, and he turned, lunging onto the faux-Cyclops.
“What the—HEY!” The third man turned, and then move to grab the woman. “I’m getting her out of here—” He threw her over his shoulder, and then teleported in a blast of brimstone vapor, only for Illyana to follow on his heels, rising out of a stepping-disk a fraction of an instant after he appeared. She swung the Soulsword at him, and instinctively the man reared back to avoid the strike, gasping in horror as the blade passed through him, and losing his grip on the woman.
“Got you!” Rahne said, leaping and grabbing the woman as she fell.
Then the wall behind them burst inward, as the steel woman crashed through it, grappling with Warlock, who had transformed himself into a techno-organic octopus. “Get OFF ME—”
“Magik!” Xi’an called, “Rahne’s got her. We’ve denied them their objective, fall back before they can regroup!” As the team gathered, she kneeled down. “Back to the HQ. We’ll sort this out there.”
The stepping-disk appeared beneath them, and they sank down into it.
The metal woman looked at her comrades, and then scowled, before she touched an intercom at her wrist. “Ajay, we’ve got a problem. A group of X-Men intervened and made off with the objective.”
The communicator came to life. “This is a setback, but not a critical one. Fall back for now.”
“You heard the man,” The woman said to the others, as police sirens sounded outside. “We’re vapor.”
Later…
Dr. Honoria Ocasio-Aguilar winced, as she woke up. A cool towel had been laid on her head, and she pulled it off. “Small mercies.” She said, before she looked around. She was on a bed in a med-bay, small but exceptionally well-appointed. She sat up, and winced at a lump on her temple, and then looked up, as Xi’an came in.
“She lives!” Xi’an said. “Black coffee and painkillers, the post-attempted abduction breakfast of champions. Don’t worry, Dr. Aguliar, you’re with the X-Men now.”
Dr. Aguilar paused. “The X-Men? Really? Do you know Hank McCoy?”
Xi’an smiled. “I took science classes from him when I was younger. My name is Xi’an.”
Dr. Aguilar helped herself to the painkillers and coffee. “God, after all this time, I finally get to network with the X-Men. All it took was someone trying to bushwhack me.”
Xi’an paused. “Yeah. About that. Our team leader has decided that until we know why those men are trying to kidnap you and who they are, we’d like you to stay with us. Completely voluntarily, of course—you’re free to go whenever you like, Dr. Aguilar.”
Dr. Aguilar paused, and then ran her fingers through her hair. “Call me Honey. Dr. Aguilar’s too formal, and only my grandmother uses my full name.”
Xi’an blushed. “…Honey, then.”
“I know why they wanted me.” Dr. Aguilar said. “…I’d finally found the proof. The proof of my theory about the Mutant-Inhuman connection. I found evidence, genetic indicators that show that the Inhumans originate from ancient human carriers of the X-Gene. The Kree discovered it millenia ago and manipulated the human genome so they could draw it out. Their experiments were only a partial success… the genetically modified humans they created would manifest abilities, but it required a volatile organic chemical catalyst – Terrigen, and the success rates were and are sub-optimal.” She paused. “But…”
Xi’an tilted her head. “But…?”
“But, the Kree still managed to do it, and thanks to Hank McCoy, we know more about the X-Gene than they ever did. In theory the experiment could be replicated... without the need for extensive genetic engineering or a messy catalyst.”
“So…” Xi’an blanched. “You found a way to artificially induce mutation.”
Honey met her eyes, and then nodded. “I did.”
“Those people… they had powers identical or near-identical to other mutants. X-Men. Well, three X-Men and one… whatever Sabretooth is.” She exhaled. “Could you control how those powers manifest?”
“…Well, that’s a complicated yes,” Honey said, “…But yes. It’s absolutely possible.”
Xi’an’s expression went grave. “Made-to-order mutants. We need to call Kitty.”