Nathaniel
Title: Nathaniel
Universe: That Damn MPreg
Rating: PG
Summary: They call him the quiet one.
Nathaniel Franklin Altman-Kaplan sat on the bed of the cell and smiled at his guard, a Shi'ar who had to be... what? Thirty, maybe forty percent machine?
The Shi'ar didn't smile back.
"It's cause I'm the quiet one, isn't it," the boy said, running a hand through his spiky brown hair. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bulkhead, green eyes twinkling merrily. He was bored, and he had time to kill before the Dads showed up. "That's what everyone calls me. I don't do much that anyone notices. I'm not visibly alien like Jeff. I'm not heroic like Rebecca. I'm not smart like Robert... and he is really smart, despite being a total spaz."
Nate cracked his knuckles one at a time. "I don't even register as a metahuman. That's why you don't have any power dampeners on me. If I was Becca, you'd have me totally hog tied, probably even in cryo or something. Or at least in a totally vent less cell. Good thing I can't shape shift the way Becca and Jeff can, huh?
"And it's a really good thing I can't do magic like Bobby. Cause I woulda turned you into, like, a frog or something by now."
Nate swung his legs back and forth over the side of the bunk, looking down at the shiny metal floor. His Grandma Rebecca said he looked like Grandma Wanda. Nobody argued with the assessment. "My sister's the dependable one, you know? I think its cause she's the oldest. She always makes sure we're ready for school and have lunch money and do our homework and stuff when the Dads are stuck on missions. Do you have a big sister? Is she like that?"
Silence from the Shi'ar.
"Bobby's the creative one. I think it's a magic thing. And he's scary smart. He's always thinking of stuff. Sometimes he can be really cool. And I wish I had hair like his. It's all long and stuff, and it's really nice. Mine's just curly when it gets longer than this. And people think it's cute." The twelve year old sneered. There was nothing worse than being cute when you were twelve. "Don't tell him I said that."
Still no response from the guard.
"Jeff's the calm one. He's really good at keeping his head. And he knows how to get people to work together. I bet of all of us, he'd make the best Emperor." He looked at the Shi'ar out of the corner of his eye. "If you guys stopped trying to kill us," he added.
Nate concentrated on his reflection again. More than that, he focused. That was what this required.
"It's not fair, you know," he went on, not really paying attention to what he was saying. "People like you have been trying to kill my family for generations. My great-grandfather survived the concentration camps of World War II, then people trying to kill all the mutants, and now we're still dealing with the mutant haters and you and the Kree and the Skrull. All because of our genetics. It's not fair."
The whole world seemed to lurch for a moment, though Nate knew it was only him shifting. He smiled again, all teeth.
"I'm not really the quiet one," he said, turning to look at the Shi'ar again. The alien made a gurgling noise, trying to summon help. But the cybernetic voice box wouldn't work. The Shi'ar gurgled again, his one biological eye wide with fear and pain as his cybernetic parts ripped out of his body. They dragged much of the organics with them as they went in five different directions. It was a messy, painful way to die.
"I'm the sneaky one," Nathaniel Franklin Altman-Kaplan, son of William Kaplan, grandson of Wanda Maximoff, and great-grandson of Erik Lehnsherr, told the corpse.
Universe: That Damn MPreg
Rating: PG
Summary: They call him the quiet one.
Nathaniel Franklin Altman-Kaplan sat on the bed of the cell and smiled at his guard, a Shi'ar who had to be... what? Thirty, maybe forty percent machine?
The Shi'ar didn't smile back.
"It's cause I'm the quiet one, isn't it," the boy said, running a hand through his spiky brown hair. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bulkhead, green eyes twinkling merrily. He was bored, and he had time to kill before the Dads showed up. "That's what everyone calls me. I don't do much that anyone notices. I'm not visibly alien like Jeff. I'm not heroic like Rebecca. I'm not smart like Robert... and he is really smart, despite being a total spaz."
Nate cracked his knuckles one at a time. "I don't even register as a metahuman. That's why you don't have any power dampeners on me. If I was Becca, you'd have me totally hog tied, probably even in cryo or something. Or at least in a totally vent less cell. Good thing I can't shape shift the way Becca and Jeff can, huh?
"And it's a really good thing I can't do magic like Bobby. Cause I woulda turned you into, like, a frog or something by now."
Nate swung his legs back and forth over the side of the bunk, looking down at the shiny metal floor. His Grandma Rebecca said he looked like Grandma Wanda. Nobody argued with the assessment. "My sister's the dependable one, you know? I think its cause she's the oldest. She always makes sure we're ready for school and have lunch money and do our homework and stuff when the Dads are stuck on missions. Do you have a big sister? Is she like that?"
Silence from the Shi'ar.
"Bobby's the creative one. I think it's a magic thing. And he's scary smart. He's always thinking of stuff. Sometimes he can be really cool. And I wish I had hair like his. It's all long and stuff, and it's really nice. Mine's just curly when it gets longer than this. And people think it's cute." The twelve year old sneered. There was nothing worse than being cute when you were twelve. "Don't tell him I said that."
Still no response from the guard.
"Jeff's the calm one. He's really good at keeping his head. And he knows how to get people to work together. I bet of all of us, he'd make the best Emperor." He looked at the Shi'ar out of the corner of his eye. "If you guys stopped trying to kill us," he added.
Nate concentrated on his reflection again. More than that, he focused. That was what this required.
"It's not fair, you know," he went on, not really paying attention to what he was saying. "People like you have been trying to kill my family for generations. My great-grandfather survived the concentration camps of World War II, then people trying to kill all the mutants, and now we're still dealing with the mutant haters and you and the Kree and the Skrull. All because of our genetics. It's not fair."
The whole world seemed to lurch for a moment, though Nate knew it was only him shifting. He smiled again, all teeth.
"I'm not really the quiet one," he said, turning to look at the Shi'ar again. The alien made a gurgling noise, trying to summon help. But the cybernetic voice box wouldn't work. The Shi'ar gurgled again, his one biological eye wide with fear and pain as his cybernetic parts ripped out of his body. They dragged much of the organics with them as they went in five different directions. It was a messy, painful way to die.
"I'm the sneaky one," Nathaniel Franklin Altman-Kaplan, son of William Kaplan, grandson of Wanda Maximoff, and great-grandson of Erik Lehnsherr, told the corpse.