February 5th. 3:00am.
Circus Caravan Outside of Bayville.

The caravan moved on into the sunset, traveling in the glow of a beautiful orange twilight. The carts were carried mostly by animals, but the strong man also carried his own cart. The ring leader, a man with the physique of a bowling ball with arms and legs, stood atop the front car, shouting orders to the rest of the crew. However, as the sun went down, the annoying, shouting voice of the ringleader died away and he retired to sleep. Meaning another escape attempt was immanent.

No-Name was a mutant. As far as powers goes, he definitely got the shit-end of the stick. So far he understands his mutant power as being incredibly dense--no, not thick headed, dense as in crammed molecules. While he may be hard to kill or injure since his skin and bones seem unbreakable, he still feels all the pain that goes along with such injuries. One could say his “gift” really is a curse rather than a talent.

He was advertised in the circus as a modern Tom Thumb--a mere 5 inches in height. Now, of course his real name wasn’t No-Name, nor was it Tom Thumb, but he received amnesia during his botched first escape attempt from the circus. Rather than donning the name “Tom Thumb” which the circus would like to bestow upon him, he preferred to be called No-Name or John Doe… preferably No-Name. He knows nothing about who he is or where he’s from aside from what Catherine, the knife thrower’s assistant, told him about how he came to the circus, and the occasional cryptic message from his nightmares. Catherine was a sweet woman--one of the few people in the circus who treated him decently. And she was currently on watch duty to make sure No-Name didn’t break out of his terrarium.

It was a relatively small case, glass walls, and a sponge in one corner--this served as his bed, complete with a small cotton ball pillow, and a piece of someone’s shirt as a blanket. No-Name has received several books, printed in a very small font so he might read them. These are his escape when he’s not trying to escape. In addition, he had an exercise wheel--which he never used before the public. However, late at night, when nobody was watching, he would run and run and run, half because he was angry and needed to vent his frustration, and half because when he finally did escape he wanted to make sure he’d get away.

At the moment, Catherine was asleep. Her chair was set up next to the crate which held No-Name’s terrarium on it. Her arms were folded under her head, and she was close enough to the terrarium that when she exhaled she fogged the glass. No-Name saw this as his opportunity for escape. After standing the sponge up against the side of the terrarium, No-Name climbed up to the top of the sponge. He took his blanket--which he had recently torn into some thin strips and tied together to make a rope--and attempted to get it latched onto that mesh roof. It took a few tries, but he managed to pull it off. Then, he began to climb.

Freedom was close at hand. It was just a matter of unlocking the roof and--eureka! Victory!

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, No-Name,’ he thought. ‘You still have to make it out of the cart.’

He climbed out of the terrarium and landed with a slight thud right in front of Catherine’s sleeping face. He froze, hoping he hadn’t awoken her. She didn’t move--aside from a slight twitch. Catherine was a beautiful woman, and surprisingly intelligent for someone who gets knives thrown at her for a living. She had short brown hair, and dark green eyes that seemed to stand out against her pale skin. No-Name would miss her… but she was not worth his freedom.

No-Name spent the next hour or so climbing down the crates to the floor. He landed on the wooden floor--covered in straw. He dashed towards the wall and felt his way to the door. ‘This is it,’ he thought to himself. ‘No longer shall you be a subject of ridicule--you will now make your own way in the world!’

No-Name began trying to squeeze under the door. It was a tight fit, but he was making it--sure he was getting splinters the size of knives, but it would be worth it to gain his freedom. He was almost through the door after about 2 minutes of wriggling, when suddenly something grabbed his foot.

“Damn it,” he shouted at the top of his lungs, clawing at the floor to try and get out of the caravan cart. Just as quickly as he saw the light of freedom, he saw it recede back under the doorway, flying away with him. He kept moving, the ground disappearing from beneath him as he flew up into the air.

He dangled for a bit before seeing Catherine holding him by his leg, giving him a dirty look. Not angry, not disappointed, more annoyed and frustrated than anything else.

“Why do you do this,” she asked No-Name, still dangling him in front of her face. “Do you really think you’ll fare better out there than you will with all of us?”

“I have to believe that I can try,” he said simply. “Regardless of how I do on the outside world, the fact that I’m free is what’s important to me. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are inalienable rights--I currently have but one of these rights.”

“Yes--the most important one. Life. If you leave us, you’ll wind up road kill or dinner in a matter of minutes,” Catherine scolded, giving No-Name a slight fwap on the head with her finger. “I don’t want to see you get hurt--and neither does anyone else.”

“Yeah--I bring in lots of money,” No-Name said, rolling his eyes. Catherine hit him with her finger again.

“Don’t talk like that,” she said, walking back to his terrarium. “Don’t worry. You won’t be here for the rest of your life… soon me and the others’ll have some money saved and we can all leave the circus together.” She planted a small kiss on him which engulfed his whole body, then she set him back in his terrarium.

Catherine always had this plan that she, Reginald the Strong, No-Name, and lizard boy would all leave the circus and get an apartment together. No-Name wasn’t too keen on that. He and Reginald and Catherine got along fine, and he didn’t mind lizard boy--but he didn’t like the idea of being a dependant. No-Name wanted to prove that he could take care of himself, that his size did not inhibit him from living a normal life. Unfortunately, some people had other things to say about that.

“Catherine, Tom, why aren’t you two helping set up for today’s show,” demanded the ring leader, opening up the caravan car.

“It’s No-Name, not Tom,” No-Name growled.

“Not when you’re performing it’s not, Mr. Thumb. By the way, you’re now scheduled for 15 performances today instead of 12. You’re working through lunch for last week’s escape attempt. That reminds me, was he good last night,” demanded their bowling ball of a ring leader.

“Of course,” Catherine said, smiling and looking down at No-Name. “If you’d treat him better maybe he wouldn’t want to run away.”

“Perhaps if he didn’t try to run away, I wouldn’t have to keep him in a cage,” the ring leader snapped back. “Now hurry up--these Bayville kids are loaded. We’ll be reeling in the money all week!” Catherine nodded and the ring leader left.

“I swear to god, that man looks like Wario. Doesn’t he look like Wario, Catherine?”

“Stop that.” She turned and faced No-Name. “I have to go now, but I’ll be back in a bit… I’ll try and sneak you some food later today.”

“Thanks, Catherine,” No-Name said, sitting down on his sponge/bed. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

Catherine smiled and left. No-Name lay down on the sponge, curled up into a little ball, and went to sleep--hoping the nightmares wouldn’t come.

February 5th. 3:00pm.
Circus Near Bayville.

No-Name spent the entire day entertaining the crowds of people that passed by. He did such things as recite passages from Gulliver’s Travels, the story of Tom Thumb, and a number of other things that were crowd pleasers. Just like she promised, Catherine had snuck him some lunch at around 3:00ish.

He was eating when suddenly a shadow emerged over his terrarium. “So, Xavier was right,” a powerful masculine voice said from above.

“I’m on my lunch break right now. Next show’s in thirty minutes,” No-Name said without looking up.

“I’m not here for entertainment,” said the voice. “I believe I can help you.”

No-Name looked up and saw two strange looking people. One was a man with white hair and what looked to be a fake mustache. Most people probably wouldn’t be able to tell it was fake, but it was the size of a large van to No-Name and you tend to pick up on some details at that height. He was wearing a tan suit and a striped red and purple tie. The other was a curvy white woman with her long blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her face was pretty enough, but something about it... it was as if every feature of it from the nose to the ears was so common or ordinary it was forgettable.

“You with the ACLU? If so, I’ve been treated horribly and nowhere near the par line set by the Red Cross or the--”

“No, I’m not with the ACLU,” the man said. “My name is Eric Lensherr--you may call me Magneto, Master of Magnetism and Leader of Mutant Kind.”

“Magneto… so I take it you’re a mutant too,” No-Name asked.

As if on cue, No-Name’s terrarium suddenly burst apart and the metal formed into a small disk-like platform. “I’ll let you make that decision,” Magneto said, moving the platform in front of No-Name. “I’d like to welcome you to your new home.”

“New home? Sorry, but I’m not too fond of people telling me where I’m gonna be living. I get enough of that from these guys--and now that my cage is gone, I think I’ll be leaving. Thanks for the help, but I think I’ll be going solo.” And with that, No-Name turned and began to walk to the edge of the crate to leave.

“You don’t know what you’re up against! A war is brewing--it won’t be long until the entire homosapien race wishes to enslave us like they have you,” Magneto said. “Young man, you know the tyranny and oppression of human kind, and you know how irrational and hateful they can be… they don’t even see you as a person!

“War is coming, a war between Mutants and Humans. When the time comes, whom shall you fight with? Join me, and I can unlock your powers.”

“I have no powers,” No-Name said solemnly. “Just a curse.”

“Fool--this is not your power. You have yet to understand your own abilities. I have done for my acolytes that which I shall do for you--teach you to harness your true power! And with it, you shall get the revenge you crave on your oppressors. Join me and together we shall be invincible!”

This Magneto fellow certainly makes a good argument. No-Name turned around.

“Say I do go with you--join you in your little revolution. Who’s to say I won’t just end up being YOUR dancing organ monkey,” he asked, imitating the motions of a dancing monkey. “What makes you different than those who are holding me captive now?”

“They do not fight for you--they fight for themselves. They stand for whatever shall make them the most money--I stand for the liberation of our race, the rise and supremacy of our--”

“Sounds a lot like Nazism to me.”

There was a dark flash in the man’s eyes, followed by a large pain surging through No-Name’s body. He let out a whinge of pain before the woman stepped forward.

“Eric, that’s enough.”

The man’s expression softened, only a hair, before No-Name felt the pain no more.

“The Germans were never downtrodden as we--they were dirt poor, starving in many cases, but not without merit. They ushered the world into a new age of war and megalomania--as penance for their acts, they had to pay large sums of money for their wrongdoings. People suffered for the mistakes of their leaders. What about us? Our leaders made no mistake; we followed no-one to war. We were simply born different.”

“Huey Newton too wanted equal rights for his people. He founded a group known as The Black Panther Party for Self Defense. It was a righteous organization, albeit a militaristic and somewhat disorganized one. He didn’t want supremacy of the black man--he wanted equality. He didn’t want a war, he merely wanted the right to defend himself when struck at. Dr. King didn’t even want to do that--he merely wanted equality,” No-Name argued.

“The black man, like all man, is still just that--man,” the woman said coldly, clenching her fists. “We are the next step in human evolution; it is our place to rise above them.”

“Next step or not, is it not immoral to enslave anyone?”

“Is that not what they did to you,” Magneto asked.

“Point.”

No-Name thought for a long time, pacing back and forth. This Magneto fellow was very bright--much more well read than most of the people he talked with. An intellectual, based on his dress, he was probably a lover of the arts as well. Little things about him gave away so much about his personality. The perfection of his suit--not a single wrinkle--hinted at attention to detail. The way he combed his hair--keeping it out of his eyes, but nothing fancy--showed efficiency. His stance, not too rigid and not too loose, commanded respect and radiated authority. The look on his face, unreadable. This man knows what he wants and knows how to get it without informing anyone else of his intentions. When you’re 5 inches tall, you tend to notice things about people. After thinking over their discussion, No-Name smiled.

“Very well, you have attained my services,” No-Name said with a bow. “But know this--I am nobody’s lapdog. I may be detained at times, and I may be caught between predicaments, but I am always my own man. You can do a lot to me--chuck me around, knock me out, beat the shit out of me--but you’ll never break my spirit.”

“Fair enough,” Magneto said, not really seeming to have paid attention to any of what No-Name said. His eyes were focused off in the distance. No-Name turned around and saw the ring-leader heading towards them.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing--get away from him,” he growled.

Magneto scowled. “As a token of my friendship, brother, allow me to depose your oppressor.” Magneto lifted a hand into the air. The ring-leader rose up into the air. He had on a large number of metal objects--from a belt buckle, to the girdle he wore under his suit to make him look thinner. “You shall touch him, no more.”

The ring-leader let out a scream as he was flung across the sky for what looked like miles. If the fall didn’t kill him, the landing sure as hell would. No-Name was not sad, nor was he appauled. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of joy knowing that this man who had plagued him for as long as he could remember was finally going to die.

“… Just like that… he’s finally gone…,” No-Name said, smiling. He began crying, first out of joy. Then out of pure hatred for that man and the wasted years he spent in this hellhole of a circus.

“We do not have time for this, brother,” Magneto said. “Mystique, quickly.”

“Yes, sir.”

Before No-Name knew what was going on, Mystique’s hand was wrapped around him, and he was in the pocket of her jacket. No-Name hadn’t paid much attention to her until the ten seconds or so in which she grabbed him and shoved him unceremoniously into the inside pocket of her suit jacket, but in that time he was able to see her go from a Caucasian woman with long blonde hair, to some blue woman with yellow eyes and shoulder length red hair. Another mutant.

It was hard to tell what was happening next, but No-Name knew they were now flying.

February 5th, 3:45pm.
Somewhere in the Mountains

No-Name was lifted from the darkness and brought out to see a very bright light. He shielded his eyes as the world came back into focus. He was in the palm of the blue woman… Mystique. He looked up to see her looking off in the distance. No-Name followed her gaze and surveyed his surroundings.

The room he was in was larger than he had imagined--almost as if it were a giant cave. In the center of the room was a large mammoth tower that seemed to be made of junk, but based on the activities taking place around it, it was clear that this wasn’t true. It seemed to be some sort of training platform.

All over the tower, people ran across it, apparently trying to get to the top. Buzzsaws, androids, machine guns, lasers, and all sorts of other traps seemed to try and prevent them from completing this task. A man in a trench coat with black spandex on stood atop the tower, looking somewhat impatient.

“Come on, come on, we don’t got all day,” he said in a thick Cajun accent.

“Shut it, pretty boy,” shouted a man with red hair shooting fire at the ground to propel himself upward and dodge several laser blasts. He spoke with an Australian accent.

“Not my fault you’re slow,” the Cajun said with a smirk.

Suddenly a large chunk of the tower flew overhead, and where it once was, stood a gargantuan silver man in a red, yellow, and black spandex outfit. The chunk hit the Cajun and sent him down to the bottom of the tower.

“When you mock teammates, bad things happen,” the silver man said, his thick Russian accent cutting through each word.

“Sonuva--holy shit,” the Cajun shouted, running away from a flying buzzsaw.

“Welcome to my temporary base of operations,” Magneto said, floating down in front of Mystique and No-Name, looking down at the tiny figure in Mystique’s palm. “These are my Acolytes.” Magneto gestured behind him, outstretching his hand and forming a fist. Immediately the giant tower ceased to function. The Acolytes stopped in mid-fight stances and looked up, noticing Magneto and Mystique. There was a semi-collective gasp, and then they all began making their way up to them. The first one there--who seemingly appeared out of nowhere--was a thin boy with white hair.

“Heydad,how’sitgoin’,what’sgotyoubacksosoon--”

“Pietro, slow down,” Magneto scowled.

“Sorry,” he said. “You’re back early.”

“Our latest Acolyte was easier to convince than I had anticipated.”

“New Acolyte--where, I don’t see him,” Pietro asked, running to different locations around the base, stopping for a few seconds at a time to look around.

As Pietro showed off his ADD, the other Acolytes arrived. Some guy with a mullet and a dome helmet, a short hopping kid with greenish skin, a fat guy with a mohawk, a goth chick, a creepy looking british guy with big eyebrows, scruffy hair, and a trench coat. They were shortly followed by the Aussie, the Cajun, and the Russian. A red headed tomboyish woman, and two Asian women appeared shortly thereafter.

Magneto outstretched his hand and Pietro stopped in his tracks before being pulled to join the group. Magneto then dropped Pietro to the ground.

“Now that you are all here, I would like you to meet our newest brother,” Magneto said, stepping aside and allowing No-Name to be seen. “State your name, brother.”

“I have no name--I’m sure I did once, but that was long ago. If you must call me something, call me No-Name,” he said.

“That is what you were called when you were out there--part of a world that rejected, detested, and even hated you. Here, you are among brothers. You are family, and shall take a new name to start your new life. You shall be called Micro,” Magneto said. No-Name wasn’t too fond of that codename, but he said nothing. “Meet your brothers. Avalanche, Toad, Blob, Master Mind, Pyro, Gambit, Colossus. They are my Acolytes.”

Mystique began speaking. “And now, meet my students. Once we were known as the Brotherhood, but now we too work with Magneto and his Acolytes again.” There was some rough air left over from previous encounters. The Acolytes were formed, after all, because Magneto felt the brotherhood was incompetent. “Amelia Voght, Nocturne, Blindspot, Mastermind’s daughter--”

“Martinique Jason,” Mastermind’s daughter said indignantly. Mystique went on as if she didn’t hear her.

“The Scarlet Witch, and last but not least, Skids. They are my pupils, and your sisters.”

(I’m not going to bother describing all the aforementioned characters. I specifically used characters who are somewhat well known so that even the not so die-hard Marvel Comics fan will be able to tell what they look like for the most part--however, if you still have no clue who’s who, there’s always Google and Wikipedia. I will admit that it was hard to find famous female members of the brotherhood, so some of the members are less than well known. i.e. Blindspot and Skids. -- FB the Comic Nerd)

“Hi,” No-Name said, not knowing what else to say. The other Acolytes waved or muttered some other greeting, not really knowing what to make of this rather shrimpy addition to their roster. There was a long pause.

“Well, I think you should get back to your training,” Mystique said, cutting in. “When you’re done, one of you will show Micro the ropes.”

The Acolytes nodded, Magneto started up the tower again, and the students returned to their training. Mystique left the main training room and went into what looked like a room in a doctor’s office. She placed her hand on the counter, and No-Name took his cue to step off her hand and onto the counter. Mystique sat down in a chair near the counter.

“Magneto has big plans in the works. He has a lot of faith in you. You should be honored. Some people work for him for years and don’t receive the trust he has bestowed upon you.”

“Say again,” No-Name said, quirking a brow. Before Mystique could, Magneto walked into the room.

“Micro, I hope you did not find the reaction from the Acolytes to be offensive. They are tired, but they are tired because they are dedicated to our fight. It was not a reflection of their opinion about you,” Magneto stated.

“No worries,” No-Name said, shrugging it off. “Warmer welcome than I get most places I go.”

“Quite. Anyway, on to business. I will need some information from you--roughly how tall were you before your mutant powers kicked in?”

“Don’t know.”

“What blood type are you,” Mystique asked.

“Search me.”

“How long ago did your mutant powers kick in,” Magneto asked, frowning.

“Don’t know--but it had to be more than 4 years ago.”

“… Micro, we are opening our arms to you. We want to provide you with food, shelter, and a family--but we can’t do so without said information.”

“I’d give it to you if I had it, but I don’t. I don’t remember anything prior to four years ago--at least anything about my personal life. I suffer from amnesia, you see, and--”

“Damn,” Magneto said. “Guess we’ll have to find out for ourselves. Mystique, you know what to do. I’ll be back after finishing the necessary preparations.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. Magneto left and Mystique’s yellow eyes were again cast down at No-Name. “As I was saying, he has put a lot of faith and trust in you. If our plans are to come to fruit, he needs you. Don’t let him down… or I’ll kill you myself.” Her tone was cold and calculating--very foreboding. There was a beat or two of a glare matching her words, and then she smiled down gently at him before giving him a light pat on the head. “I’ll be right back, I just need to get some of my tools before we can get the genetic information we need.”

No-Name just quirked a brow as she left. He was beginning to question the sanity of his decision to come with this Magneto person… and even more, whether he really had a choice to begin with. Before he could dwell on these thoughts further, Mystique returned with a large hypodermic needle, a pair of tongs, and what appeared to be an examination bed.

“Uhm… Mystique--it’s Mystique, right?” Mystique nodded. “Ok, good. Mystique… what are you planning to do with those?”

“I just need a blood sample--and possibly a tissue sample. At worst we’ll need a tooth to examine, but I doubt it’ll come to that. Now hold still.” Mystique’s hand--needle and all--advanced on No-Name.

No-Name was many things, but good with sharp objects he was not. He made a break for it. Knowing this would happen, Mystique had the tongs ready in hand, and No-Name was quickly caught between the cold metal. He wriggled and squirmed, but Mystique kept the tongs tightly on him--almost to the point where his lungs couldn’t expand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make this as painless as possible,” Mystique said in a sympathetic tone. “Just try not to struggle too much.”

No-Name continued trying to wriggle free, but it was to no avail. The needle pressed against the calf of his leg. Mystique pressed it and it still wouldn’t puncture. She frowned and tried again. No-Name winced in pain, biting down on his lip to keep from screaming. The needle continued to press into his calf, harder and harder until he could bear it no more. He let out a howl of pain, and finally Mystique pushed forth with all her might and broke the skin. She probably punctured a few muscles, but it was nothing they couldn’t fix later. She drew a small amount of blood, then placed No-Name on the examination bed.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, now… was it,” she cooed.

No-Name just lay there, panting as tears streamed from his eyes. She placed his blood in a small vial and put it in a protective case where a computer would analyze it. She went back to No-Name, who was now curled into the feeble position, bleeding profusely from his leg. Mystique ran her finger from the top of his head to the base of his spine.

“Relax, you’ll be fine,” she said, running her finger up and down. “Just a little blood.”

No-Name shortly lost consciousness thereafter--from blood loss and from the mind numbing pain surging through his leg.

February 6th, 6:12am

Magneto’s Medical Wing

 

No-Name bolted upright in bed in a cold sweat, panting and out of breath.  Nightmares plagued him during his slumber.  Always the same shit.  The flashes, the stairs, that room with the--

 

“So, you’re alive after all.  That’s good.  Magneto would’ve been pissed off if you went and died on us,” a female voice said from somewhere around him.

 

No-Name tried to speak, but failed.  So he simply stuck an arm with an outstretched middle finger into the air.

 

“Very mature.”

 

No-Name sat up.  Whoever it was who was in the room was behind him.  He craned his neck back and saw the smiling face of a young looking blonde woman.

 

“Sorry, forgot your name,” No-Name said.

 

“Most people call me skids,” she said, extending a hand to shake.  No-Name stared at her for a moment or two before she withdrew her hand.

 

“Nothing personal, I just don’t like most physical contact with people.  Usually leads to massive head trauma,” he said, rubbing his head.  “… or severe blood loss.  How long was I out?”

 

“Not more than a few hours or so,” Skids said.  “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

 

“No.  Anything worth hearing?”

 

“Sounds like you were having some dream.  Care to talk about it?”

 

“… I don’t even wanna think about it,” he said with a sigh and a shudder. 

 

Skids nodded.  “Alright.  Well, I’ll go tell Magneto you’re up.  He’ll be very happy.”  And with that, Skids made ice-skating like motions and slid gracefully out of the room.  No-Name didn’t ask questions, although he was very curious about what her power was.

 

He sat there for a few more minutes before Magneto walked into the room, wearing some sort of red and black jumpsuit with body armor.  He carried a helmet under his arms.

 

“Micro, I apologize for the measures taken earlier, but they are vital if I am to help you.  You see--”

 

“Magneto… I’m gonna be perfectly honest with you right now.  I just had a bigass needle jammed into my leg.  For most people it probably isn’t that bad, but my curse here makes my skin and everything else about me much more dense than it should be.  For Mystique to do what she did, she applied the force it would take to rip off a limb.  So forgive me if I’m a tad testy.”  No-Name cleared his throat.  “I don’t want to talk to you, or anyone else right now.  Leave me the fuck alone.  Ok?”

 

Magneto frowned.  “Very well then.  I shall leave you be, but come 7:00 you will begin training with the rest of the Acolytes.”  Magneto turned and exited.  Skids entered the room.

 

“Hi again,” she said with a smile and wave.

 

“Go away,” No-Name growled, lying down.

 

Skids continued talking, as if she didn’t hear him.  “You shouldn’t talk to Magneto like that--when he gets pissed off, bad things tend to happen.  If you’re planning on surviving capture the flag I would recommend staying on his good side.”

 

“Scarier looking people than him have tormented me in the past, now again, leave me alone.”

 

Skids just laughed and sat down next to him.  “Gonna make me?”

 

“Are you always this annoying?”

 

“Only when I want to be.  It’s fun to mess with new people.”

 

The remainder of that hour went like that.  Skids having fun by annoying No-Name, while he remained ever grouchy and anti-social.  Finally 7:00 rolled around and Pietro rushed into the room.

 

“Hey, come on, time to go,” he said at lightning speed.  Skids grabbed No-Name--much to his dislike--and created frictionless force fields around her feet.  Pietro got behind her and pushed, allowing the three of them all to travel at the same speed.  They made it to the other side of the base in roughly 0.02 seconds.

 

No-Name’s long hair was 50 different kinds of fucked up.  He felt about ready to puke.  Magneto and Mystique stood atop a large metal platform.

 

“Today you shall face off in a match of capture the flag.  Captain 1 shall be Avalanche.  Captain 2 shall be The Scarlet Witch.  Pick your teams.  Go.”

 

The men and women picked, in order per team, were as follows:

 

Avalanche’s Team: Quicksilver, Colossus, Skids, Toad, Pyro, Master Mind’s daughter, Micro

 

Wanda’s Team: Amelia Voght, Mystique, Master Mind, Gambit, Blob, Nocturne, Blindspot,

 

Micro was of course chosen last, but it didn’t really matter.  The capture the flag session was rather predictable.  Quicksilver stood guard around the flag, to make sure Amelia Voght didn’t get to it.  Mystique attempted to impersonate Avalanche and confuse his teammates.  Avalanche’s team won.  No-Name scouted ahead, looking for the flag for about 15 minutes or so.  Amelia did likewise, teleporting until she found the flag, but Quicksilver fended her off.

 

After finding the location of the flag, No-Name radioed the location to Avalanche, who then launched a full scale invasion of Wanda’s base.  Colossus headed the attack, acting as a large bull elephant of some kind.  Master Mind’s daughter made Wanda’s team see multiple Colossus’s running for them--to decrease their chances of actually knocking him down.  While Colossus cleared the path, Avalanche, Toad, and Skids followed him practically hugging his back.  Colossus launched Toad into the air and he grabbed the flag, but didn’t get it out of the pedestal.

 

“I got it, I got it,” he shouted with unbridled enthusiasm.  But then Blindspot jumped over and dropkicked him.  “I don’t got it… *grunt*”  Toad then passed out.

 

Next Skids jumped off Colossus’s shoulders and grabbed the flag.  The Blob tried to grab her, but she activated her frictionless shields and he could not keep his grip on her.  Once she was far enough away, Pietro rushed over and pushed her to the base, resulting in a victory for Avalanche’s team.  Magneto floated down from where he was in the ceiling.

 

“Very good.  Avalanche, your team did well.”

 

“Damn straight,” Avalanche said, giving his team the thumbs up.

 

No-Name finally made his way to the group--he had been hiding under a pile of rubble for most of the fight.  He was strictly there for reconnaissance, you understand.

 

“Avalanche, you and your teammates have the rest of the day off to do what you please--go see a movie or something, quite frankly I don’t give a damn.  The rest of you are to clean this base up--we’ll be having some new guests in the near future and I feel there’s no time like the present to start sprucing up… go. … NOW!”

 

And with that, the Acolytes split into their various directions.  No-Name tried to follow his team out of the building, but they were out the exit so fast he was left behind.  So he decided to just hang out in his room… wherever that was.

 

Micro spent a good portion of the day just walking around the base.  There were two main dormitories from what he could tell: one for the women, one for the men, and a large living-room like area where they could all hang out.  This seemed to be the only room not related to training--aside from the medical rooms.  He just sat in the corner of the common room and pondered over the events of the last day or so before falling asleep.

75:42 3/4nt

Wacky Land

 

Sleep is something No-Name tried to avoid.  It wasn’t insomnia, it was more like sleep aversion.  Whenever No-Name slept, he had horrible nightmarish visions.  Death, destruction, and memories of a life he no longer had--nor did he wish to have.

 

He was falling through blackness, not knowing if he was falling down, up, or through space and time itself. Suddenly he was in a run down apartment. A younger much more studious version of himself sat at a desk, trying to drown out the sounds of fighting parents. Flash! He was somewhere else now... pure blackness... but a set of stairs in front of him. It seems never ending.

 

He began walking up the stairs for what seemed like hours before he felt that free-fall feeling again. Then, before him, there was a figure bound in chains. No more than a teenager--hair matted with blood and his skin covered in bruises and blood.  He was quite a sight to behold, all bloody and bruised, but still alive. No-Name walked towards it with caution. The wounded figure rounded on him with remarkable speed and tried to jump at him, but was chained to a wall.  It was now clear this figure was wearing a straight jacket, as he screamed his head off.  The figure was none other than a much more clean and kempt version of No-Name.

 

"Free me you idiot, I'm your fucking memories," it shouted. No-Name screamed and so did his memory. Then--

 

February 7th 2:24pm

Acolyte Common Room

 

No-Name woke up as people started coming in.  Some people were already in the room, reading magazines or napping.  It seems the losing Acolytes have finished cleaning--or are now taking a break. It sounded like elephants marching. He groaned, half upset by the noise, half relieved to be out of the nightmarish world of his subconscious.

 

He stood up and stretched, reminding himself of a bowl of Rice Krispies with the sounds his back made.  Snap crackle pop.

 

Lance, Pietro, and Toad walked into the room, kicking a hackey sack back and forth.

 

“So, what’d you think of the movie, yo,” Toad asked, flipping as he kicked the hackey sack in the air.

 

“I thought it was cool, man.  But I’ll say this--even in cartoon form, Keanu Reeves is not a very animated person,” Lance said, head butting the hackey sack a few times before sending it to Pietro.

 

“Are you kidding--the movie dragged,” Pietro said, kicking the hackey sack one way, running to it before it landed and kicking it back to where he was standing before, and vice versa.  “The pacing was horrible--I spent most of the movie wanting to fall asleep.”

 

“Yeah, but that’s a directin’ issue, yo.  If the pacin’ is slow it’s ‘cause the director can’t figure out how to animate the script.”

 

“Maybe it’s just a problem with the script--as in it’s really freakin’ boring,” Pietro said, kicking the sack to Lance.

 

Lance, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to hit it, tried desperately to catch it.  The hackey sack flew out the window.

 

“Sunuvabitch,” Lance growled.  “Pietro, what gives, man?!  No need to chuck it that fast!”

 

“Yeah, yo, that’s the third time today, and I ain’t got no money left.”

 

Pietro just laughed, running to a chair and sitting down.  “Not my fault you’re not quick enough.”

 

“Yeah, well what are we suppose’ to…”  Toad stopped in mid sentence, an evil grin coming across his face.

 

“Toad,” Lance asked.  “Hey, Toad, you ok?  What the hell are you--oh… hello…”  Lance got the same grin.  Pietro’s eyes followed their gaze, and then he too got the grin.

 

“Ah, shit,” No-Name said indifferently.

 

Roughly a half hour of hackey sack, or “Punt the Runt” as they called this version of it, passed with more people joining in every now and then.  Within ten minutes, the game had evolved into a sort of soccer/rugby type free for all--the doors the dorm hallways being the goal posts.  In addition to Lance, Toad, and Pietro: Master Mind’s daughter had now joined, as well as Blindspot and Nocturne.

 

(For those of you who are fortunate enough to not know what it feels like to be a human hackey sack, this should simulate the experience.  Now do as I say.  Stand up on the nearest raised surface you can--be it a chair, your kitchen table, a counter top--anything more than two feet above ground should work.  Once you’re positioned atop it, jump with all your might face first into the ground.  I don’t mean just fall over, come on, really JUMP!  Push yourself off with your scrawny little legs and land flat on your face and chest.  Your ribs kinda hurt now, don’t they?

 

Well, in your scenario, if you did it, you know that it is somewhat painful to fall onto something from a few feet in the air.  Those of you who didn’t, you’re a pansy-ass-pinko and you didn’t do it because you knew it would hurt.  In No-Name’s case, he’s falling from more like 20 feet--proportionate to his size--and the ground is also rushing at him with enough force to send him flying another twenty feet in the air so that he can experience this joyous event all over again.  Needless to say it hurts like hell. -- FB)

 

‘Why can’t I just pass out,’ No-Name thought to himself as Toad kicked him towards Nocturne.  Nocturne let out a girlish laugh/shriek type thing as she did a back flip and kicked No-Name into the air again.

 

Aside from the hope that he would through some miracle be allowed to pass out or simply die, No-Name thought one other thing: ‘Why?’  Why did they torment him?  Well, the simple and sad truth was, they were bored and he was different--even more so than them.  You’d be surprised how often the defense of atrocious actions comes in the form of three simple words: I was bored.

 

Nocturne caught No-Name with one of her feet, and chucked him towards the girl’s dormitory.  He flew through the door and landed with a small thud on the floor.

 

“Goal,” Nocturne shouted excitedly.

 

“Sunuvabitch,” Toad said.  He was being goalie.

 

As No-Name lay there on the ground, he felt the vibrations of footsteps on the floor.  But it didn’t come from anyone playing the game.  Amelia Voght had been attempting to get some rest in the dorms when No-Name flew through the door and landed on the floor--bloody and bruised.  Amelia had known Magneto since before he and Mystique had partnered up--back when Charles and Eric were still friends.  She was one of the few in Magneto’s organization that not only agreed with his philosophy, but lived and breathed it.  So upon seeing mutants inflicting harm upon other mutants…

 

“Who is responsible for this,” Voght demanded in a loud booming voice.  No-Name was so out of it he could barely hear her, but he felt the vibrations in the ground as she knelt down to scoop him up.  “Are you ok?”

 

“Been better…” he said simply.

 

Amelia placed him on her bed and quickly went to... "discipline" the Acolytes.  No-Name passed out.  Figures.

February 7th

5:32pm

Med Wing

 

No-Name bolted upright in a cold sweat.  Even when he passed out he had nightmares.  Magneto, Amelia, Mystique, and Master Mind were in the room when he awoke.

 

“Well, I was hoping not to have to give you this until we had tested it further,” Magneto said, not waiting for No-Name to speak.  “But I suppose we have little choice--based on the actions of our Acolytes this is necessary.  Here.”

 

Magneto handed No-Name a black spandex suit with what appeared to be fiber-optic cables running up and down it.  The easiest way to describe it would be to say it looked as if several microchips had been flattened into Spandex and turned into a cheesy outfit.  The spandex suit came equipped with some cool gadgets.  Metal shoulder pads, metal forearm guards and shin guards, some badass boots, and a helmet with infa-red sensors and a zoom feature.

 

“What is this,” No-Name asked.  “Is this from Tron?”

 

“A short few years ago I built a genetic enhancer to bring out the full potential power in all mutants--due to a lack of funds and materials I am unable to rebuild it, but I was able to get the general effect down very nicely.  That suit enhances the count of X-Genes in your body, and almost instinctively you should be able to control your powers--so long as you wear it.”

 

“Control my… powers… but my po--”

 

“You do not yet know the extent of your powers.  Put on the armor and all will be revealed,” Master Mind said.

 

No-Name went to put it on over his clothes.

 

“No no--the cables must touch your skin if they are to embed the X-Genes into your system,” Magneto said.

 

“… uhm… can I have a little privacy,” No-Name asked.

 

“Well, we could leave the room, but there is a risk that the suit may kill you if we miscalculated something, so I feel it would be best for us to remain in the room,” Amelia said, folding her arms across her chest.  No-Name sighed, swallowing his pride.  He undressed completely then pulled on the suit.  He felt like a Cylon from Battlestar Galactica. 

 

‘Why do I know what that is,’ No-Name found himself wondering.  Suddenly, No-Name felt a sensation come over his mind.  He looked around, dumbfounded.  Master Mind’s eyes had gotten a light blue glow.  “What are you doing to my head,” No-Name demanded.

 

“He is helping your mind click into place--learn to control the powers by instinct,” Mystique said.

 

No-Name felt a panging headache.  He shut his eyes.  Suddenly, there was a rush of wind, and something that sounded like Rice Krispies going off.  He opened his eyes.  He was on the floor.  He stood up and banged his head on the table he was sitting on.

 

“Sunuvabitch,” No-Name shouted, shoving the table away and standing up.  “What the hell was--wait a minute… table… I… I… I’m…”

 

“Yes, Micro.  You are in control of your powers now,” Magneto said.

 

No-Name felt warm tears stream down his face--tears of joy.  He knelt down and kissed Magneto’s boots.  Everyone quirked a brow as No-Name uttered inaudible thank you’s and pledges of allegiance.  He stood up.  He was roughly 5’7”--maybe a little taller--and now that his features were able to be seen, he was a very handsome young man.  Running in that wheel at odd hours of the night had given him calves, thighs, and buns of steel.  Scaling the walls of the terrarium gave him shapely defined arms.  His hair was a wreck, and he had a scraggly unkempt beard.

 

For the past four years, he had not seen a mirror.  He was amazed to find himself looking like a model--even more surprised to discover how dark his skin was.  He was battered and bruised, and just a little bloody, but other than that he looked fine.  It was then that he realized he didn’t even know what ethnicity he was until now--based on his facial structure and the skin tone, he was going to assume Hispanic.  He looked up at Master Mind, Magneto, Mystique and Amelia.

 

“Do we have any clothes to put on over this,” No-Name asked.  Mystique tossed him some loose-fitting jeans and a baggy T-shirt with the phrase NPC written on it.  He threw it on over his clothes.  “Requesting permission to take the rest of the day off.”

 

Magneto nodded.  No-Name headed out of the room.  He was about to head for the exit when he passed the dorms and haulted.  He walked in, a look of pure malice upon his face.  No-Name now understood his power.  His body produced Pym Particles and, until he was enhanced, he had no control over when his body produced them, how much of them he produced, or where they were directed.  So naturally they simply sat in his bloodstream, doing absolutely nothing.  With the enhancer, his body stopped producing them at random.  He was no longer a slave to his power, but as he rightfully should be, he was the master of his own destiny.  He walked into the common room and sat down, waiting for the others to arrive.

 

He didn’t have to wait long.  Less than 3 minutes later, Blindspot walked into the room and her eyes found their way to No-Name.  Nocturne shortly followed her and they both appeared interested in him.

 

“Magneto didn’t say anything about another new guy,” Blindspot said.

 

“The more the merrier,” Nocturne said, leaping over to the chair he sat in.  No-Name remained utterly silent, his eyes watching them both with contempt.

 

“Hey, I’m Nocturne, and that’s Blindspot.  Guys, we got a new one,” she shouted, causing the rest of the Acolytes to enter the room.  Lance was the one to make the formalities.

 

“I’m Lance, but people call me Avalanche,” he said, causing a small tremor as he said so.  He extended a friendly hand to shake.

 

“My, how all your attitudes have changed in such a short period of time,” No-Name said coldly.

 

“So, what’s your name, yo,” Toad asked, hopping over to him.

 

No-Name’s eyes began to glow a steady light blue color.  “I do not have a name.  There are those that call me Micro, but if you must call me something, call me No-Name.”  He stood up and immediately the Acolytes knew they were in it deep.  His eyes flashed a darker shade of blue and his hair stood on end as if static electricity was rushing through him.  Within a matter of seconds, his would be tormentors now stood on the floor at no more than 5 inches in height.  Avalanche, Toad, Pietro, Nocturne, Blindspot, and Master Mind’s daughter all were dumbfounded at the sheer size of No-Name and the vastness of the room around them.  Blindspot curled up into a little ball of terror.  Lance was just flat-out pissed.

 

“I’m going to go to the movies,” No-Name said flatly.  “When I return, you’ll be restored to your original height--assuming you’re still alive.  I just thought it’d be a nice learning experience for you all to see the world from my perspective for a while.”

 

To emphasize his point, he slammed his foot on the ground, causing everyone to fall over.  He then made his way to the door and went towards the exit.  He felt very good about where his life was heading.