Limits
Limits 8
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(A/N: Reviews bring happiness to
Warrentopia. Almost as much as Laziness.
beseeches your reviews. He’ll make you Viceroy. This week’s Viceroy of
Warrentopia is TKD.
her partake of the Royal Warrentopian Pop-Tarts lovingly purchased for him by
his Minister of Transportation, Kurt. Kurt has stated he will also provide the
Royal lap dances for the Viceroys. Please have your dollar bills and/or Tootsie
Pops ready.)
Sage
walked out of the hotel room’s bathroom, dressed in a pair of Jean’s sweatpants
and one of Kurt’s tee-shirts. She had her wet hair piled on her head in its now
customary up style. Kurt sat cross legged on the bed, leaning over his laptop
and printing out page after page.
“How is your
research progressing, Nightcrawler?” Sage asked, walking towards the window and
peeking out the curtain. “It’s unfortunate you couldn’t contact your mother.”
“She’s
probably on the
doing...whatever it is she does there.” Kurt actually suspected she was playing
Canasta with Dr. Strange and Agatha Harkness, but he didn’t say so. His sister,
Jimaine, generally tagged along with her so Daytripper was out as a magical
option also. “I’m almost done...we can try this as soon as Jean gets back.”
“I
instructed Marvel Girl to not stray more then a quarter mile from this
location, in case the hostiles are in pursuit.” Sage closed the curtain, “I
appreciate the effort the X-Men have gone to for my rescue. Perhaps you can
enlighten me on why I was abducted?”
“Let’s
talk about that after we get that collar-thing off you.” Kurt closed his
laptop, “Alright, I think I’m ready.”
“You
are sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Of
course,” Kurt lied, “I’m Margali’s son and Daytripper’s brother. I grew up
around sorcery.” His mother would kill him for even trying this but he had very
little choice. Those...people (he couldn’t bring himself to even
very well find Sage using the magic of her collar as a sort of arcane tracking
device.
“She’s
coming.” Sage commented. Kurt looup aup and gathered his papers. Jean let
herself in, armed with a plastic sack, a tray of drinks and a McDonald’s bag.
She set down the drinks and opened the McDonald’s bag.
“Here
ya go, One Quarter Pounder with cheese meal, no onions, extra pickles for
Kurt.” She handed him his food.
“Oh,
thank God.” He almost teared up at the sight. So much ‘porting made him
ravenous. Jean handed Sage her Filet O’Fish, and settled down to her own
McNugget Meal. Kurt passed out the drinks; Diet Cokes for him and Jean and a
large orange drink, no ice, for Sage. Kurt’s tail acted as his personal drink
holder while he ate and flipped the print outs.
“I
got the other stuff. Sort of. I was limited to McDonald’s and a Stop-n-Rob.”
Jean dumped out the plastic bag. White candles, incense (in Tahitian Night),
small bottle of olive oil, a single pink rose, a bag of Oreos, a two-liter of
Diet Coke and a large bottle of Bicardi 151. Out of the McDonald’s bag came
about 100 tiny packets of salt.
“It
will have to do. Thanks, Jean.” Kurt ate his food quickly and then gathered the
“supplies” and headed over to the vanity counter. He sat on the counter and
went through the pages again.
“Well?”
Saskeasked, finishing her sandwich. Jean threw the trash away.
“Ok,
I Googled some magical texts and then-“
“Excuse
me,” Sage stared at him, “You Googled
a spell?”
“No,”
Kurt said a little defensively, “I Googled the texts. I downloaded the spells
off of Kazaa.”
“
“Well,
actually Soulseek, I like it better then Kazaa. It’s a German file-sharing
pro-...okaaaay.” He tapped the pages against his leg and opted to not meet her
incredulous stare.
“You’d
be surprised what you can find on the Internet these days.” Jean offered
diplomatically, though she herself was having doubts about Kurt’s sanity.
“This
one.....” Kurt held up a page, “We need a virgin for and...” He looked
questioningly at Sage, though he already knew. He could sense a virgin. She
shook her head, “We don’t happen to have one of those so...” He crumbled that
page up. Jean found herself blushing, no matter that she and Scott had been
married for two years.
“This
one we need...ew. Nevermind. I don’t care if we do have that.” He tossed that
page over his shoulder. Sage walked over and picked it up.
“Menstrual
blood.” She commented. Jean went pale. “I concur with Nightcrawler’s “Ew”.”
“This
is Sex Magic and I don’t think you two would be up...” He was met with two sets
of stony stares. “Alrighty, no Sex Magic.”
He tossed that one aside. Too bad,
he found himself thinking, casting a hidden glance at Sage. His cock
stirred again. I need to go get laid,
he added to himself as an afterthought, and
I need a cookie. He picked up the bag of Oreo’s and ripped it open, helping
himself to a few well-earned cookies.
“This
one requires us being Skyclad,” he said between cos, “s, “And I think Jean’s
out on that one.”
“Damn
Skippy.” Jean said, her arms crossed.
“Ok,
that leaves us with this one. Just a little Blood Magic. My blood since I’m the
caster.” He looked around, “Any protests?”
“As
long as you don’t get hurt...and I’m not naked, I’m ok.” Jean strode over,
“What do you need us to do?”
***
slumped on a settee at “The Club”. He longed for Warrentopia. He briefly toyed
with the idea of declaring the settee a colony of Warrentopia, calling it
NoPants-ia, ripping off his slacks right then and settling down in his boxers.
Give these elitist bastards something to really stare at besides big, white
wings. He sipped his Rum and Coke and looked out towards the crowd for his
parents who were networking it up with the other millionaires. He spied his
mother talking to Candy What’s-Her-Face. Candy smiled brightly and peeked over
at him. Aw, cock, I’m being pimped again.
He smiled and held up his drink in an affable greeting.
“She’d
probably suck your cock for a diamond tennis bracelet.” A low voice, very
British, came from above him. He looked up. Elisabeth Braddock blew a stream of
blue-ish smoke towards the ceiling. Her cigarette dangled from one perfectly
manicured hand.
“I
doubt it would take that much.” He commented dryly, watching his ice cubes melt
in his drink. “And how are you, Psylocke?”
“Oh,
I’m very well,
She flicked her ash and took another drag. “You have that “I’m so awfully bored with this Silver Spoon life” look, it’s quite
droll really.”
“Do
I? Or maybe I’m just bored with this conversation.”
chugged his drink.
“Are
you now? Poor little rich boy.” Elisabeth chuckled. She tossed her long violet
hair over one shoulder.
“Why
are you such a bitch, Betsy?” He sighed.
“You
say that like it’s a bad thing,
Betsy dropped her cigarette and ground it into the expensive carpet. “C’mon,
let’s go.”
eyebrow shot up, “Go where? Shouldn’t you be off fucking a model?”
“What’s
that supposed to mean?” Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, you think I shagged Kurt
Wagner, your little German Mutant friend.”
“Are
you saying you didn’t?”
Candy grinning like a Cheshire cat and heading his way. Aw, nuts.
“Oh,
don’t be an arse,
course, I shagged him. Who hasn’t? He’s a fantastic lay, probably the best I
ever had. You should try him.” She opened up a silver cigarette case and
selected another.
lit it for her.
“Try
him?” He asked, watching Candy’s progression towards him with growing dread.
God, she must have gotten the blessing of his parents. Crap.
“Oh,
he likes the boys on occasion. The pretty ones. You’re quite pretty,
She clipped her cigarette case shut.
“I’ll
pass.”
“Incoming.”
She warned, letting the cigarette dangle from her lips and reaching taking his
arm, “C’mon then.” She was right, Candy was almost upon them.
He let Betsy guide him to a
balcony. There, she shrugged off her silk shawl and tossed it to one of the
lounging chairs. She wore simply a black sheath dress that clung to her slender
Asian frame. She took a long final drag on her cigarette and threw it over the
side of the railing. She held out her arms.
“Betsy?”
“Take
me for a fly.” She ordered, smiling. “And don’t be a gentleman. Scare the shit
out of me.” She tossed her clutch purse down on her shawl and kicked off her
Prada shoes.
“Fine,”
rather wicked grin. He kicked off his own shoes and grabbed her. He spread his
wings and leapt straight up. “Did I mention,” He yelled as the wind roared past
them. “I fly at Mach 4?”
***
Jean
opened her 54th tiny pack of salt, carefully tracing the white
granules along the lines on the white sheet that Kurt drew with a purple
Sharpie. He had cookie-dough scented candles aligned at each of the
Watchtowers. Sage stood in the middle of the sheet. Her expression seemed
rather critical. Kurt busied himself by squishing the olive oil, the rose
petals, a splash of rum and a bit of salt together in a plastic cup; using the
end of the purple Sharpie marker as a pestle. He read over the dispelling spell
over and over again, trying to commit it to memory.
<Is
this going to work?> Jean asked him mentally.
<I
have no idea. But it’s worth a shot and we don’t have a lot of options. I
couldn’t get a hold of my mom or sister, and Wanda’s not answering her cell.
Pietro‘s not either.>
<Couldn’t
we just ask Dr. Lensherr to...well, do his thing? It is metal.> Jean sighed. She was getting tired of ripping open
little packs of salt.
<It’s
magically warded. We have to dispel it, then try and get it off her.> Kurt
smooshed his poultice into a thick chunky paste. <That wizard or whatever he
was could use the enchantment on it to find her...and us.>
<Kurt,
does she even know that you were mistakenly summoned and it was a big accident?
Her rescue?> Jean sprinkled faster. The Tahitian Night incense burned rather
stinkily in the background.
<No,
I’m still working on explaining that.>
<You know,
Bobby’s going to be very upset he missed the Satanist Nazis> Jean chided
with a little smile.
<And the
Fashion Ninja.> Kurt added, trying not to smile too broadly. He noticed that
with the incense the room smelled rather like a porn store.
***
Bobby Drake, the
Mutant known as Iceman, jerked open his door. A young girl, about sixteen or so
and of Chinese decent stood in his doorway. He wore cargo shorts, a pink
stapler hanging from his waist with a retractable chain. His tee-shirt was
graced with the image of Trogdor: The Burninator, including his one beefy arm
and consummate “V’s”. (see
hair was covered by a catcher’s mask set back on his head. Some sort of
earpiece microphone thing dangled from one ear.
“Yes?” He peered
at her with utmost suspicion.
“I’m, uh,
Jubilation and Scott told me to come see you about getting a room.” She held
out a piece of paper. Bobby took it and bit off the corner, savoring it for a
moment before spitting it out. She stared at him.
“Yes, do come in.”
She walked into
perhaps the cleanest guy’s room she’d ever been in. The bed even had hospital
corners. A very beautiful American Indian girl sat on the prne sne sofa,
thumbing through a magazine. Another girl, with wild curly brown hair streaked
with assorted vegetable dyes, sat on the floor in front of the TV; she wore a
black tank top and pink camouflage pants. She seemed transfixed by the PS2 game
she was playing and took no notice of the newcomer.
“Greetings
and salutations.” The Indian girl said looking up from her magazine. “Welcome
to the jungle.”
“Dani
Moonstar, Jubilation Lee. Jubilation, Dani.” Bobby introduced, keeping a
lookout into the hallway. “She is known among circles of our kind as Mirage.”
“Hi.”
Jubes waved at Dani. “What’s your
power?”
<%'> “Heaven
and Hell, baby...Heaven and Hell.” Dani smirked and tossed her magazine. “I
show people their deepest desires and their nastiest fears. And I can play with
dreams...and make illusions.” Jubilation blanched a bit.
“That
lump on the floor is Kitty Pryde. Bother her not while she’s gaming. You could
lose organs.” Bobby intoned, dipping his head into the hallway and peering
about. “She is known as Shadowcat and is what the prophets call, a phaser.”
Kitty, without looking away from her game, stuck her hand through the floor. She cracked her gum loudly and kept right on
playing, a can of Red Bull tucked between her knees.
“And
you, like, what’s your power?” She asked Bobby. He seemed surprised.
“I’m
Iceman. The name is self explanatory.” He held out his hands, an ice sculpture
of Leonard Nimoy appeared. It disappeared as he reabsorbed it. Jubilation
gawked. “Well come along. Let’s get you Indoc’ed.” He patted a chair next to his computer desk.
“Mine
took almost two weeks.” offered Kitty helpfully.
“You
dear, were rescued by Kurt from a Rave and clearing yourself of assorted nasty
chemicals.” Bobby reminded.
“I
was kicking X.” Kitty paused her game and turned around. “I did not have sex
with Kurt.” She added.
“There’s
a first.” Dani muttered.
“I
said rescued, dumbass.” Bobby threw his plushy Chuthulu at Kitty. It bounced
off her head, she took no notice. She was almost through level 13. Jubes sank
into the indicated chair.
“Who’s Kurt?” She
asked. Dani opened her magazine to an ad. She walked over and showed it to
Jubilation. There Kurt was, in all his mostly naked glory, lying on a sofa, a
look of complete apathy on his face. He wore only a cowboy hat and blue jeans.
The jeans were unbuttoned and halfway unzipped, of course. He was licking the
spade of his tail. “That’s Kurt? He’s
a Mutant? I thought he was, like, just a seriseriously into bodymod and the
rest was Photoshop.”
“Nightcrawler.
He teleports. Wallcrawls. Scrapbooks. Other things.” Bobby waved his hand
around. “Let’s get you into the system, shall we?”
really sweet.” Kitty supplied. Bobby rolled eyeseyes.
“Name?”
Bobby asked, settling down to his computer.
“Jubilation
Lee.”
“Codename?”
Bobby began tapping at his keyboard.
“Jubilee.”
***
Kurt
crouched with his eyes closed, tail swaying back and forth, trying to clear his
mind and focus. His mother always said that magic, true magic, came from
within, from desire. The rest were
mere trappings, ritual to center the soul and mind. It matter how the ritual
played out as long as you had the desire. Kurt tried to concentrate on that
ideal now. One thing he knew for certain, his mother would skin him alive for
this. Use his guts for garters, she would say. He slogged ahead anyway. Jean
hung in the background, keeping the candles lit and the incense burning no
matter how much it smelled like a freaky-deaky head shop. Sage stood stoically
in the center of the crudely constructed magical circle. He opted for German
rather then Latin for the Incantation. His Latin kind of sucked. He planned for
Spanish for the ending meditation.
Kurt walked over
to Sage and called upon the Watchtowers of the East, North, West, and South. He
held up his knife. “As above. So below.” He hissed. In his fist was clutched
the print out of the spell. He didn’t look at it. “Befreien Sie diese Frau.
Unbind diesen Bann. Ich befehle Sie mit Wind und Masse und Feuer und Luft.” Hhisphispered. “Befreien Sie diese Frau. Unbind diesen Bann. Ich befehle Sie mit
Wind und Masse und Feuer und Luft.” He touched the knife to Sage’s collar.
“Ich befehle Sie
mit den Energien des Himmels und der Hölle. Undo diesen Bezirk. Ich ersuche um
Gott almight und Christ und der heilige Geist. Undo diesen Bezirk.” He felt
himself grow heady. Like when he was high. He swayed slightly. “Ich befehle Sie
mit den Energien des Himmels und der Hölle. Undo diesen Bezirk. Ich ersuche um
Gott almight und Christ und der heilige Geist. Undo diesen Bezirk.”
Kurt took the
knife and sliced himself along his palm, the blood flowed freely. He touched
his palm to her cheek. Sage stared at him, transfixed, as Kurt’s blood ran
crimson down her cheek. He felt a surge in him, something akin to lust, but
more so. He felt himself harden as he looked down at Sage, his blood marking
her. He could smell it. He could smell her.
esta mujer limpia. Deje mi colada de la sangre esta mujer limpia. Mi dios, mi
dios, utiliza mi sangre para limpiar a esta mujer. Disipe el encanto. Unbind la
magia.” Kurt touched his bleeding hand to the collar. The metal hissed at the
touch of his blood. “En el nombre
padre,
alcohol santo.” Sage recoiled slightly, as Kurt drew close. His lips brushed
hers. “En el nombre
hijo, y
whispered. She sighed and leaned into him. Her mouth closing on his. His tongue
flicked against her lips and she opened them. She felt the first stirrings of a
surge of ...something. Energy? Light?
Sage jerked away from each other. The collar clattered to the
floor...dispelled, and then itned ned to dust with a faint hiss.
“You guys ok?”
hand that suddenly started stinging. Sage moved away from Kurt and sat down on
the bed. Jean handed him a bandage to wrap around the wound.
quietly. He bowed.
we’re all set.” Jean said, yanking up the sheet.