Old ways, and Older Passages

[leon]

Leon went unnoticed, such was his nature. He had been at the mansion for quite a while now, occasionally he would solicit the occasional furtive glance of some young student, but that was only on his better days, which were growing few and far between.

He had originally come here in the hopes that he could reverse the effects of whatever shield had given him some 30 odd years ago...That was a mistake. Oh Hank had been polite enough to him at first, promising what help he could, practically boasting of his abilities and the advancements in genetic manipulation in the last decade, but he and Leon both knew, Hank was no true scientist.

Not when compared to the minds the likes of Howard Stark anyway. Hank was just a boy. A boy playing with his chemistry set, and whether he wanted to admit it or not, they both knew the truth of it.

He was an ambassador not a scientist, a damn politician, what help Leon could gain from him were pretty words, and false hopes at best.

No in truth the mansion had become Leon's retirement home, and it was a poor one at that. Charles had offered him a position as a teacher at the school, no doubt as a sign of respect to his elder, but the title would have been little more than symbolic.

despite his arguments to the contrary, Charles had to have known that Leon was in no shape to teach, he was offering him an old fools job and nothing more, whispering sweet nothings into his ear has he waited for his death, or so it would seem.

Leon had grown more, and more unstable over the last few months, and even when he could manage to retain his youth, he was often too drunk to enjoy it.

No he didn't belong here, all that waited here was his death, surrounded by relics of his past. He needed to leave before he no longer could, but not before paying the catacombs a visit.

The 'catacombs' was an area underneath the foundation of the school. Originally the place had been a base for the SSR. It was used as a recon base and, for the time it was connected to the largest, and most advanced intelligence network in the world. Now the place was a dump. Dusty and forgotten it's secret entrance was no more then a heavy stone at the base of the courtyard. If one were to explore any further one would find a small room, a tomb for a decrepit old mainframe.

Leon hobbled down into its depths, cane in hand, and pawed blindly for the terminal. Inside this terminal was the key to his freedom, and his daughters.


After combing the mainframe's database Leon set the place aflame, whiskey in hand, as he stumbled out.

[Freya Elensar Ashe]

Freya was a permanent resident at the school, not just because the Exiles had officially joined the X-men, but because she wasn't allowed to fly... Which meant she couldn't return to her home country France just yet. Why? Well, the stupid government seemed convinced she'd go into labor prematurely if she flew in a plane. She was six months pregnant at this point, but it was hard to tell, probably because of her taller frame. It was a known fact, that most women on the taller side rarely showed their pregnancy, unlike their shorter sisters. So, quite literally, unless she told you, few would notice the small bump. The point was, she was being forced to stay at the school, which didn't sit well with this spitfire.

To say she was frustrated was an understatement. The woman was constantly biting people's heads off, torturing any students that had the misfortune of crossing her in the danger room. Even the other X-men would fall victim to her raging temperament. It probably didn't help that Rory still wasn't back...

Today, she was in one of those moods, and everyone was staying clear of her as she stalked the halls. It was during said stalking that she saw something.... strange. A man, who looked eerily familiar. Had she met him? No, that couldn't be possible. But he looked just like... No, it wasn't him.

Her mother's origins were a well kept family secret, one they'd refused to ever speak about anywhere but the safety of their home, and even then, it had only been once. Amarie had only told her twin daughters the story to make sure they knew where they came from, but they'd been forced to swear never to repeat the story. What they had been told, was a story the girls had hated. An American soldier, stationed in France had wooed their grandmother, and then vanished without a trace. It wasn't until later that their grandmother realized she was pregnant with that man's child. Their mother, Amarie, was then raised alone, but she was given an old black and white picture of the man, so she would recognize her father if she ever met him. And, when Amarie had shared this story with her own children, the picture had been passed down to them.

And that man looked exactly like the one in said picture.

It shouldn't be possible, for it to be him. But... Stranger things had happened! Hell, Freya was married to a man that had lived hundreds upon hundreds of years because he had the uncanny ability to come back from the dead! And... her mother had to get the X-gene from someone. Freya knew her Grandmother wasn't a mutant, so her Grandfather was the only explanation for his insanely powerful offspring. It wasn't.... totally far fetched that he might still be alive...

So Freya followed him. Down into the tunnels, relying on her ability to sense body heat to keep a safe distance behind him. Couldn't have him realizing she was there just yet, after all. She was still deep in thought, trying to convince herself that it was just a coincidence. Maybe he was a cousin, another illegitimate grandchild of the man. Heaven knows, it was definitely possible to have look alikes in families. Freya and Tari were twins, and thus identical, but they also resembled their mother and Grandmother a great deal. All the women in their family had the same brilliant red hair, the same facial expressions, the same fair skin.

Suddenly, she felt heat. Lots of heat. She picked up her pace just in time to see the man starting the blaze. He was a pyromancer... This couldn't be a coincidence. She stepped out of the shadows, suddenly in sight of this man as he started to stumble off, obviously drunk. "Who are you?" She spoke quietly, but was sure he would hear her. If he didn't, well, she was directly in his path. He'd have to talk to her.

[/justify]

[leon]

"No one you need to concern yourself with." It was a boilerplate response for a boilerplate question, one he had been asked many times before. he said it without thinking. His eyes were more focused on the ground then the person in front of him. Once he drank this much, he really couldn't rely on any innate sense of balance to help him through. He had to focus step by step, eyes on the ground so it didn't slip from under him.

With each passing step his body started to grow younger, his metabolic systems going into overdrive as they tried to process the gallon of alcohol he had consumed this morning.

It was a funny way of kicking his body back into shape. He had discovered long ago organs, primarily his liver in this case, were put in a state of near failure his body would kick into overdrive in an attempt to save it. The nice side-effect being, of course that his body would grow younger on the spot. Liver marks would shrivel and disappear, any signs of jaundice would be wiped from his system, and then with his liver healed his overactive metabolism would move on to the rest of his body.

Ironic the very thing that kept him from growing too young also kept him from growing too old in large enough doses. His two true companions in his life, alcohol and tobacco, now only if he could rely on them they way he used to....

As he stumbled forward, he grew from a man of 60 to a man of 20 in a matter of seconds, each step taking nearly a decade off his life. He paid no real heed to the girl in front of him, barely taking in her features as the effects of the booze began to wear off. When he reached her he simply dissolved, wafted, into smoke, and only then as he passed her did it finally dawn on him who she was.

Just has he billowed passed her, or nearly through her as the case may be, he stopped floating in the air eerily for a moment before taking physical form and turning back to face her.

"Who are you?"

[Freya Elensar Ashe]

What did he just say?

Okay, that was probably the stupidest thing you could say to this woman. She didn't take talk back well (even though she was probably the biggest offender of doing exactly that.), and considering her already frustrated mood and raging hormones... Well, let's just say he was very lucky she didn't try to set him on fire, and she was definitely considering it.

Why didn't she though? That was because she was witnessing something rather... crazy. He was... he was getting younger. She hadn't noticed in the hall before that he was older, probably in his fifties or older. Which was probably why she'd been so sure it was merely a coincidence that he looked like a slightly older version of the man in the photograph. Now though... After witnessing him actually turning into that man, she was more torn then ever. She didn't like the odds of this man actually being related to her, but the resemblance was... He was practically identical to the photograph!

Freya wasn't sure what to say after the transformation finished, instead her brilliant green gaze remained fixed on him. Until he completely vanished. That was... unexpected. She slowly blinked, vaguely aware of the smoke that had taken his place. Smoke wasn't as easy to read as actual heat, if only because it cooled so quickly. She could only read the faint traces of heat smoke gave off. And that was where her skills with smoke ended.

Freya was scowling, almost menacingly, as she slowly let her gaze wander around her surroundings, waiting to see if he'd reappear. He did, right behind her. He'd only vanished for a few seconds, and when he'd returned to the solid world, he actually turned to face her. Obviously, this was unexpected, since he'd been so clear in his distaste to speaking with her. But she was pleased. Maybe she'd finally caught his attention. Now she could get to the bottom of things...

Wait... what? Suddenly, she was frowning. She'd asked him that! Oh well, might as well play his game. "Freya. Elensar." The woman rarely introduced herself with her maiden name anymore, always her married. Today though. Today was different. She was curious. Wondering how he might react to the name Elensar. "Now will you tell me who you are?" Her accent was much more noticeable with this last question, probably because she'd spoken more. At the same time, she sounded like she.... knew something. Like she knew him.

[/justify]

[leon]

"Someone you need to concern yourself with." He took a breath and studied her, his voice and his appearance only a resemblance of what it had previously been.

"I'm your Grandfather."

An Ironic thing to say given the situation. A minute ago that would have been believable, but now he clearly looked the younger of the two of them.

What else was there that needed to be said? He wasn't really sure. He didn't normally make it his business to track down his offspring, or their offspring for that mater, but he had heard that this one and her sister had taken after him a bit more then most.

As a result he felt a nagging sense of responsibility plague him, something that was getting harder to ignore the older he got. He had considered finding them from the moment of their birth, but there was some matter handy to keep his attention. At least enough, so that he could justify putting it off to another date, but now there was no such thing.

Did he need to be there? Did they need to know that he exists? Would he even do them any good? He didn't know. He did know however, that if her head was even half as hot as his was at her age, she needed guidance, and she needed it badly.

This he felt he owed her; he owed both of them. Who knew how long he could continue gallivanting around the world solving everyone's problems? Those days may well lay behind him now, and it was time for him to focus on the problems at home, or what little he had of it.

[Freya Elensar Ashe]

"Oh, so now I'm worth your time? I'm touched." Well, if that didn't prove she was a hothead, nothing would. He'd yet to tell her who he was exactly when she'd made the comment, but it probably wouldn't have change anything. She was a bit infamous for being a brat to... well everyone! Hell, Rory, when he wasn't busy coming back to life, had to deal with her spitfire attitude almost all day, everyday! Sure, she loved him, but she tended to treat him the exact same way as everyone else. So would her Grandfather get any different? Unlikely.

Freya's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she met his familiar gaze. She'd never met this man before, but she knew those eyes. Or, rather, how could she not know them? Amarie had apparently taken after her father... Freya's grandfather, more then she'd admitted. For some reason, she didn't like the idea of someone having the same eyes as her mother. Even if this man was, technically, where they'd come from. "I thought it might be something like that." was all she said in response to the proclamation that they were related.

No... Not just related, if this man hadn't been such a.... well, these American's called it a 'player', then Freya wouldn't be here right now. It was a little freaky, to be honest, at least to Freya. The woman had never known her family that well. Her Grandmother had died before she was born. Her father the same. Her mother had passed on only a few short years later. And the Elensar's, her father's side of the family, had never lived close enough to really get to know them that well. So, yes. Being face to face with any sort of family was a foreign concept to the French woman.

The smoke from the fire he'd set was quickly filling the hallway they stood in, bringing heat from the flames with it. Freya though, seemed completely immune, and almost oblivious to the change. She didn't say anything else to him, the woman carefully memorizing every detail about this man. So this... Really was her Grandfather.

[/justify]

[leon]

Smoke filled the tunnel; flames licked at his feet. Leon took no notice. He was focused on her. She looked like her mother, no, her Grandmother, her hair and her eyes, but the fire, the fire was his.

There was no mistaking that. This, This was just too much to handle. He didn't really know how to react, or what to think. Fuck, he needed a drink, he was too sober now.


"Come on." he grunted listlessly as he turned from her gaze and started walking toward the exit.

He was silent has he walked down the single-file tunnel. She would follow him...or not, it wasn't for him to determine if she was ready or not. As he walked he fumbled in his jacket pocket for his keys pushing a small button on the keyring as he took them out.

As they reached the courtyard Leon spotted a large group of students crowded around the smokey hobble. Most of them were young and confused, none of them really knew what to do. Normally Leon would have hid within the smoke and came out undetected, but with his granddaughter behind him that wasn't really an option. Instead he opted for the more direct approach.

He was an old man now, he had paid his dues, and he knew it. Who was going to tell him no, Charles? Heh, he doubted it. He stood there in plain sight of any onlookers and waited for the low roar of his motorcycle to grow louder as it tore its way through the grounds stopping in front of its driver.

Leon looked back into the smoking tunnel as he straddled his motorcycle.

"Get on."

[Freya Elensar Ashe]

Freya didn’t like that order, at all. But, you had to remember that this was Freya we were talking about! When did she ever take kindly to orders? You’d be hard pressed to find any that she liked, or better yet, listened to! Even now, she was seriously considering flat out ignoring this command from her ‘Grandfather’.

Freya frowned at the word. Grandfather. Her Grandfather. You could only imagine what was going through the woman’s mind at this knowledge. She’d grown up hearing nothing good about this man except for him being the reason of her existence. Hell, she’d never even been told his name! Actually, it was unlikely that her Grandmother had even known his name. If she had, she’d kept that knowledge to herself, never sharing it with her daughter.

After a moment’s debate, she let out a ‘hmph’, but followed. That first step alone spoke volumes, voicing her protest and displeasure at the situation. She continued to ‘sulk’ as she followed him down the tunnel, out the secret entrance, and all the way to the courtyard. All the while, she had him fixed with a dirty look. It wasn’t until he, once again, gave her an order. This time to get on his motorcycle with him. That was really the last straw.

Planting her hands on her hips, she scowled at him as he waited. ”Get on? That’s ALL you have to say?”

[/justify]

[leon]

He shrugged, a shadow of his cocksure smile appearing on his lips as she grudgingly climbed on. He wasted no time peeling out of the courtyard, leaving tattered ground and frightened students in their wake.

People parted as they made their way past them, and soon they found themselves on an open field near a small outcropping of woods. Leon cut his way onto a little used path that worked its way through the woods and out the other side, smoke trailing from his outline as they rode. It was a beautiful day, the sun shone and the birds sang as Leon glided his bike from glade to glade with finesse earned from decades of experience . Eventually they found themselves a few miles down from a small village on the shore of the Titicus Reservoir, one of his favorite haunts.

The ride was quiet. The roar of the engine and the rush of the scenery, more or less guaranteed that. Except for the occasional brush of smoke wafting up from under Leon's jacket, there was nothing to distract from the tranquil scenery around them. When they got to the village the bike slowed to a crawl, growling quietly as it weaved its way through the small tightly woven streets. Leon stopped abruptly. releasing the kickstand and leaving the bike in the middle of the alleyway, he dismounted and walked down a narrow flight of steps embedded in the side of a building, silently beckoning his new-found granddaughter to follow him.

As he turned the corner to take another flight of steps Leon took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it with his thumb, and puffed at it nonchalantly, as he savored its taste. When he came to a ramshackle door made of worn oak, the guard opened a slit to stare at him and challenge his legitimacy. Unperturbed, Leon took a long draft of his cigarette and blew it into the guards eyes.

He cursed as he opened the door, but otherwise he did not challenge him. The folks in this village knew better, and those who didn't learned quickly.

Leon made his way into the dark pub and took a seat at the bar motioning to his guest to take a seat next to him.

____________________________________________________________

He had no time for games, nor did he have the patience anymore for that matter. He caught the eye of the bartender who slid him a bottle of whiskey and some shot glasses, which he cooled on contact. The Bottle opened with a crack and its liquid contents were poured into the frosty shot-glasses. Leon took a pause, drink in hand. He had paid his offspring little, if any, attention on the trip here, and even now the attention he gave her was passive at best. It were almost as if he were talking to himself rather then her, wrapped up in the the past, his eyes as frosted as the drinks in his hand.

Finally, after a long contemplative, sigh he took a drink and grimaced as the liquid made its way down his throat. It was odd seeing a boy of twenty look far beyond his years, but here he was. A body of a twenty year old, with the weight of a 90 year old on his shoulders.

"Her name was Alys...I never got her last name, I wish, I did....It was a different time, a different age. I was part of the 2nd Ranger division, One of the remnants of the 29th. We were tasked with supporting the siege of Omaha beach...we succeeded...at a cost.

He paused and took another long drink from the bottle.

Luck was against us. I was one of the few who survived to see the aftermath of the battle. That night, amid the smell of salt, blood, and death, I saw your grandmother for the first time.

She had volunteered herself to the French resistance, and she was doing her best to help whoever she could, powers and stares be damned.

A weary smile graced Leon's lips far older then his face.

She was an angel of ice, a cold and determined woman on the field that day...nothing phased her, and no one touched her...She was an entity all her own. That's when I fell in love with her.

I deserted my post to be with her, it was a whirlwind romance. We stayed at a small village off the coast of France, and played husband and wife for awhile, but eventually pretend time had to come to an end. When I left her I left my heart, along with the promise that we would never speak of this again. She was my first love...A love I will never have again...