Disclaimer: Marvel makes 'em. We writes 'em. That settles 'em (hopefully)

Suggestions and comments are welcome and greatly appreciated. 
Please e-mail   skruse@snd10.med.navy.mil

Recap: Beast has a mishap with the Legacy Virus and the identity of Creed's
assassin is revealed.

IMPORTANT WINDS OF CHANGE NOTES: Our story is going on a TEMPORARY hiatus.
I'm losing access to my e-mail account for the next two and a half weeks.
Also this is only half of part 5. We wanted to make sure something got out
before the break. When we return, the next 4 or 5 parts should be done and
posted every other day.

Winds of Change Part V 

Scott Kruse and Rob Alarcon

     Lucius acted like any normal twelve year old boy. He was interested in
playing sports, learning to like girls and collecting comics. However he had
a hard time doing all three of those things. Lucius was born a mutant, and
as luck, all bad, would have it, he was also disfigured. Across half his
face and in patches along his body were purple 'birthmarks.' Most often when
people saw him, the usual reaction was pity. But the marks were not a result
of his x-gene. Lucius was able to emit scents based on his emotions. The
problem was he had no control over his power.
     When he turned ten, he first showed signs of his true genetic nature.
His parents, being highly fearful of mutants and their ilk, maliciously
threw him out of their house. He was no longer able to go to school, play
with the neighborhood kids or see his family. For one full month, Lucius
wandered the streets of New York, begging for food and shelter. Luckily,
many of the homeless, who could sympathize with being expelled from common
society, showed the boy pity and took him in.
     One night while strolling through Central Park, he witnessed two red
skinned men running as if from someone or something. Curiosity got the
better of him and he followed them as best as his legs could. He lost sight
of them twice, but didn't give up the chase. The two men stopped by a
nondescript bush and looked around for any signs of pursuit. Seeing none,
they tilted the bush and it made faint metallic clang. A hole must have been
hidden beneath because they crawled down, pulling the bush on top just
before disappearing.
     Lucius waited nearly an hour before investigating. Nobody had come into
view the entire time he hid, so he assumed they lost whoever was following
them. He ran across the short distance and anyone trailing him would have
noticed a sweet spice aroma lingering where he sat. The bush the men had
moved looked alive but when he touched it, some paint flecked off the
plastic leaves. He tried to remember if they had pushed any secret levers to
open the hatch but couldn't recall that they had.
     He grabbed the base of the bush and groaned while heaving his weight to
one side. Surprisingly, it moved easily and he nearly fell from the over
exertion.
     In the moonlight, Lucius could make out the top three rungs of a ladder
soldered into the walls of a circular tunnel that led straight down. His
eyes quickly scanned the park and everything appeared to be quiet. He took
the first hesitant step and thought about what he was about to do. He had no
family, no curfew and nobody he could consider a friend so without anything
to lose he went down into the darkness, closing the lid behind him.
     At the bottom, five inches of stagnant water slowly meandered it's way
around his ankles. The smell was utterly foul and he had to lean against the
wall to avoid falling. He relaxed and slowly became used to the odor. His
eyes adjusted as best they could in the darkness but he still couldn't see
his hand in front of his face. A while back, he had read in one of his
comics how Blaster Man escaped a maze crafted by his arch nemesis Arachnoid.
He had placed his hand on one wall and though he found numerous dead ends,
it was the foolproof way to eventually find the exit. Considering that to be
his best option, Lucius followed suit and choose his right hand.
     He trudged through the water, making decent progress considering his
eye sight was denied to him. Rats scampered away when they heard the
sloshing of his feet. He had never been so scared in his short life. Every
little sound sent shivers up his spine or froze him until enough time passed
that whatever it was that made the sound decided he wasn't worth eating. He
just prayed he wasn't stuck in one long loop and would never find out.
     Lucius felt as if he walked over ten miles. His feet were sore from the
continual wetness, dragging, and bumping outcroppings too numerous to count.
Frowning he realized he had made a mistake and carried on, head hung low. He
was no longer conscious of each step when he tripped over a jutting pipe.
Instantly alert, his arms pinwheeled in a vain attempt to maintain his
balance. As his face rushed towards to fetid water, a hand grabbed the back
of his shirt.
     A scream ripped from his lungs, piercing the deathly quiet of the
network of tunnels. From the pores of his skin, a smell resembling a skunk's
natural weapon overpowered the odor of the sewer water.
     "Oh gods," a voice belonging to the hand said, still maintaining its
hold on Lucius's shirt. "Stop squirming boy. We are not going to hurt you.
We just wanted to know why you were following us."
     Lucuis was unable to answer the man behind him. His lungs, completely
expelled of air from his scream, weren't able to refill and respond.
     "I think the boy is a mutant." This voice came from a different person.
It was much huskier and sounded as if each word was a struggle to pronounce
correctly.
     "Why were you following us," the first asked again.
     "I just," Lucius gasped and swallowed. "I was just curious is all." I'd
never seen a red man before, except in Blaster Man."
     "Why did you follow us? Aren't your parent above going to worry?"
     Lucius could feel the heavy stare, even in the utter darkness. "My
parents gave up on me." In the months he had lived on his own, his resolve
had hardened but the panic and fear he had been through in the past two
hours caused his eyes to give in. Unseen tears spilled out of his eyes.
     "I think we should take him home," the second voice said.
     There was a slight pause before the first man spoke again. "Tell me
boy. Do you want to a new family. One that won't despise and hate you for
being different or a mutant?"
     Lucius nodded and the tears from his eyes were no longer from sorrow
but from joy. To have a family again wasn't a hard decision to make. Lucius
became on of the many new Morlocks residing in the tunnels under New York.


     Gambit sat on the edge of Storm's bed while she attempted to pack for
their eventual move. He had come to the conclusion that since he didn't own
as much personal property as everyone else, he could wait until the day
before until he packed. Besides, they hadn't even found a place to move to
anyway.
     "Stormy, you sure you wan' bring dis," he said holding up a picture. "I
didn't know you had a t'ing for Mister T." The picture depicted her earlier
days when she had worn a Mohawk.
     She laughed and threw a dress over Gambit's head. He had come to help
her box her items but it seamed for every one thing she boxed up, he managed
to pull out two to examine and comment on. "You know Remy, if I didn't know
any better, I would think you came here to bother me more than help." She
stood with her hands on her hips and smiled mockingly as he pulled the dress
off of his head.
     Since he met her in Cairo, Ororo Monroe, held a special place in his
heart. She was one of the only members of the X-Men to trust him implicitly
instead of cast suspicious looks every time he walked by. Even after
Onslaught proved to be the traitor to the X-Men, Storm, and occasionally
Rogue gave him the time of day outside of combat, without showing signs of
to contrary.
     "'ro, can we talk," he asked.
     The sorrowful look in his red on black eyes gave away exactly what he
was thinking about. "Of course," she said, sitting beside him. She took his
hand into hers and gave him a comforting squeeze.
     "I don' get it. Durin' Onslaught, I thought we'd worked t'ings out
between de two of us but now dat Magneto's returned to de mansion, I see de
looks she give him."
     "I don't know what she saw that made her run away but she did come
back. You've got to give her a little time."
     "Time. How lon' do I have to wait? I've excepted de fact dat anyt'ing
between us won' be perfect." He stopped speaking and shook his head. What
did he need to do to prove himself.
     "Would you want an impartial party to speak with the girl?"
     "Impartial Stormy," he said, flashing her a grin.
     "Well maybe not completely impartial." She stood and pulled the picture
out of his hands. "I thought you came here to help me pack. Stop making more
work for me and while you're up there's an empty box over there that needs
filling."
     "But I'm not up," Gambit said to which Storm answered by throwing
another dress at his head.

     Lucius stood in front of the glass display case eyeing the autographed
copy of Blasterman #2. Having lived with the Morlocks for over a year, they
had provided food, clean water and shelter for him, but entertainment was
hard to come by down in the tunnels. Luckily Lucius was able to move freely
in the world above. It was a valuable asset to the Morlocks. He was only
twelve years of age but had learned to steal newspapers and what to listen
for while others talked. Who would suspect an unlucky kid with the terrible
birthmarks all over his body lived a life none could imagine existed.
     For the past three months, Lucius had collected cans and bottles,
returning them to the recycling depot until he had $26.50, just enough to
cover the cost of the comic. All the hard work he invested was about to pay
off. Lucius couldn't hide his excitement, giving off the faint spicy odor
associated with his emotion. "I'd like that please," he said, beaming.
     The store owner was a large man, prone to working with a hangover he
swore daily he'd one day avoid. He rubbed his eyes, nearly scraping his hand
on the two days growth he'd forgotten to shave off. Carefully, he lifted
himself off the stool that he rarely moved from. Four small dents in the
white tile floor prevented the stool from shifting with his weight. "Ugh.
This one here," he asked pointing to indicated comic.
     "YES," Lucius said a bit too loudly. Though he now barely remembered
his parents, certain things he learned from them clearly stood out. One was
never let a salesman know you're interested, that's when they'll get you.
"Yes. That's the one I'd like," he said, trying to sound older and less
interested.
     "That'll be twenty six fifty." He cleared his throat and swallowed.
Gonna have to quit smoking too, he mused for the tenth time that day.
     Lucius pulled out a wad of disorganized singles from his blue jeans and
began counting aloud.
     The store owner blinked a few time. Why did it have to be so bright in
here and why do kids always have these loud voices? As Lucius counted, the
proprietor noticed the ugly birthmarks across his face. Poor kid, he
thought, which was his first kind thought of the day.
     "Nineteen, twenty," Lucius counted the last of the singles. He dug into
his pockets for the change buried in them.
     "Tell you what kid. How 'bout you give me the twenty dollars and we'll
call it even."
     "Really." Maybe his parents were wrong.
     "Sure kid." Then he noticed it. The faint spice aroma he smelled before
but thought nothing of it. It was coming from the kid. "What was it you ate
before you came in here? It smells pretty good."
     "Nothing..." He knows, Lucius thought. He was getting scared but
couldn't hide it as the skunk smell betrayed him.
     "Ung." The store owner's nose wrinkled in disgust. I bet he's one of
those muties. No wonder he looks like that. He debated on throwing the kid
out of his store but twenty dollars was twenty dollars, regardless of the
source.
     After ringing up the sale and handing the kid his purchase, he looked
around for a little slip of paper he had written a phone number down on.
Where is it, he asked himself frantically searching his pockets. The Friends
of Humanity were offering fifty dollars for any mutant confirmed sighting
and five hundred for any information that led to the capture of a mutant.
They had decided that mutants had gone too far with Creed's assassination
and they were going to put a stop to it. This kid was an easy catch if he
could just find- There it is tucked into his back pocket along with two
overdue bills. He reached for the phone and dialed the number.

End Part V