Daily dose of Insanity and Premeditated Murder
Guess what? There IS somebody reading this. I thought it'd be like my last series and sell about one issue a month, but it seems we're doing better than that. I think that might be because it's free. Hmmm...pay-per-view fanfiction...hmm...
Oh, uh right...I hereby award Saturnssailor the Golden Chimichanga, the Silver Chimichanga and the Bronze Chimichanga for the fine piece of fan-art delivered just yesterday.
You can see it here:
Hmmm...I guess I should let the writer off the hook, but I don't know. Into the box with you!NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!
And now back to your regularly scheduled fanfic.Let me out!
Not until you make things better!
“Harry?” Scott said with an exasperated tone. “What is it?”
“You’ve been acting like a dick.”
“How dare you speak to me that way!”
“See?” Harry said. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
Ever since Jean and Scott had returned from Africa, Scott Summers had been a dick to everyone around him. Granted, most people were willing to give him some distance considering he’d just been sharing a body with an A-list super-villain, but there was only so far a person could go. It had been more than enough for Harry.
“Well Sorry for having Apocalypse stuck in my body!”
ppft! “Yeah right, like most of the rest of us haven’t had super-villains in our heads or turned evil,” was Harry’s dismissive reply. “Gramma Jean: star system destroying Phoenix and her clone Madalyn Pryor; Wolverine: himself and HYDRA, Ororo: the Shadow King; Professor X: himself; Warren: Himself; Kitty: the Hand; the White Queen: herself (well, that’s not really a possession, just her natural state); me on a bad day. Anybody who fought the mutates in the Savage Land with Worm there. I think that’s a pretty good sampling and covers most of the team.”
“It’s not that simple!”
“Grampy, get over yourself,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes. “Honestly, you’re possessed. Big deal. You weren’t such a dick to Jean when she was dealing with the fallout of your ex-wife turning evil. Now go let her not be a dick to you.”
“…okay I think I understood what you meant,” Scott replied.
“Good, now I’m gonna go make popcorn for when Gramma kicks Frosty ass,” Harry said.
Scott explained the situation to Jean. She was not happy that her husband’s therapist was having a mental affair with him. She did then kick Frosty ass, royally so, and aired all Emma's dirty laundry to the entire school. And Harry passed out popcorn.
Emma Frost never felt the presence behind her until the helmet was forced onto her head. Fearing a physical attack, she shifted into her Diamond form for protection.
” said an all too familiar voice from behind her. “That should take care of you for the meantime. It’s not real Latin, but it does the job.”
A mask went over her face and for a while everything was black, but she could still observe the passage of time. She was riding in a car, going somewhere. Soon, she was being dragged along. She was unceremoniously dumped on some hard concrete flooring and the blindfold was pulled off. Harry Potter looked down at her with a rather angry expression.
“You shouldn’t have done it Emma,” he said. “You shouldn’t have tried to break up my family.”
A thousand thoughts went through the White Queen’s mind as she pondered the implications of what was going on. She was in a factory. Where, she didn’t know. She was unable to move and her abductor was the son of a well known killer. She thanked her forethought at taking her diamond form. Harry wouldn’t be able to harm her and even he wouldn’t use the Unforgivables.
She tried to understand his reasoning. His words didn’t make any sense.
“Oh, I knew,” she heard in her head. “Surprised? Yes, that helmet and your diamond for do prevent telepathy, but I never had that mutation did I? No I had to master a magical form instead. You have no protection against magic, Emma.”
This…this was bad.
“I really love my family,” Harry said. “It’s the only one I’ve got.” The young wizard crouched down to look her in the eyes. “And I don’t like it when some super villain sweeps in claiming redemption tries to break up my grandparents. You’ve made a big mistake Emma. A very big mistake.”
Emma Frost watched as the teen reached into his backpack and pulled out two books. “I’m a fan of literature, Emma. Here are two of my favorites,” he said them up for her to see. “A Cask of Amontillado
and Dante’s Inferno
, and you’re going to help me reenact them.”
Had Emma the power to move a muscle, she would have been struggling to get away at the implications, but here she was, alone and at his mercy. She watched helplessly as she was bricked up into the new fireplace. Harry was methodical and very serious about his work.
“Emma, do you know what happens to diamonds when they’re burned?” he asked her as he spread mortar for another brick. “The same thing to any other carbon that’s burned. It turns to Carbon Dioxide. You see, some of us X-Men got passing grades in chemistry. You have absolutely no resistance to fire or heat.”
Fear like she had never felt before rushed through her. The kid was supposed to be a joke in the super powered community: Deadpool’s crazy kid; the punching bag of almost every super villain out there; the kid who always needed to be rescued at the last minute. Suddenly she knew they were all wrong. They were all very, very wrong. And she wasn’t going to be able to tell anyone about it.
He worked steady for three days on the chimney and fireplace. And Emma Frost watched on, unable to even close her eyelids. She didn’t even feel flame as the fire burned away her body. The last thing she saw was Harry Potter’s face.
He wasn’t proud of her death. He wasn’t taunting her demise. He didn’t cackle with glee. It was clear he gained no pleasure from the act. If anything he had managed to make it as painless physically as it was possible for her, even if the mental anguish was far worse. Harry crossed his arms over his chest and watched her until there was nothing left. Too bad that was a clone,
intoned the Watcher when the corpse was nothing but a memory. Harry looked up with a shocked and angry expression. Then it changed to disappointment, skipped acceptance and went right to skepticism.
“I thought the Stepford Cuckoos were the only White Queen Clones?” No, there is another…
'Another thousand that is.'
“Hey! Stop quoting Star Wars and answer the damn question!” Actually, that was Empire.
“Uatu?” What’s up Harry?
“You’re an ass.” Thank you.
“Should you really be proud of that?” Should you really be talking to me?
“Hey, this fanfic was getting way too serious! I had to break the 4th wall at the least. Especially considering I’m not allowed to kick ass like I used to.” Sure you are.
“Then why am I in school?” Because it’s how I have seen it. You want to be a dropout rebel? Go play in someone else’s fic.
“You really are an ass!” Get back to work!
“Fine, fine,” Harry said. “Isn’t it almost time for me to go fight HYDRA?” Not for a while,
intoned the Watcher.
“You never let me have any fun!” he declared before turning to the readers. “Don’t let the writer do this to me! Don’t make this a serious fic!” I'm going to update my Watcher's blog with all those photos of you and a certain someone...
“You wouldn’t!” Harry said, shocked and alarmed. Would I?
“You would,” Harry said, depressed and deflated. Don’t worry, you’ll get to beat up Quentin Quire
, wrote the writer.
“Good, cuz he’s an even bigger ass than you!” No arguments here.
“Harry?” the boy turned to see a Pink haired Pixie land beside him. “Who were you talking to?”
“The Watcher,” Harry said.
“Is that some kind of hero?” she asked, a little confused.
“More like a villain,” Harry grumbled. "Or an insane deity that controls my every move and takes special glee in my suffering. Or that could be the readers...sometimes it's hard to tell them apart."
“Oh,” Pixie said. “So what are you burning?”
“Just a little burnable trash,” Harry said. “Increases my carbon footprint, but makes me happy.”
“Happy is good!” she replied perkily. “Didja bring marshmallows?”
“No, didn’t think to,” Harry admitted.
“Good, cuz I
did!” she said, pulling out a bag from behind her.
And so Harry and Pixie had a wonderful time cooking marshmallows over Emma Frost’s Clone’s corpse. Not that Pixie knew that, of course.