elseworldexiles | I see Rainbows...

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I see Rainbows...

Louis Armstrong croons in a scratchy recording over the antique speakers. The old turntable is an oddity amid the menagerie of mad science technology that clutters the room.

A cyborg cat moves like a spider across the ceiling with it's extra limbs as it stalks a fly buzzing around the overhead lights.

"Mittens, you're gonna break the lamp again." The Maker chides his pet. He really needs to upgrade the cat's logic routines.

A vacuum attachment on his hand busies itself with cleaning up the errant feathers on the floor. Warren really thrashed around at first during the procedure. The Maker felt a sense of happy satisfaction knowing that his new friend would never know doubt or fear again. A wave of sublime contentment washed over him as he considered his accomplishment. The Summers family needed good men like him.

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Two steel catheters extend from Mitten's upper jaw and sink into the mummified rodent. The guinea pig is quickly exsanguinated and the cat curls up into a ball amid the silken strands and begins to purr.

"Oh Warren's just resting up in one of the regeneration beds. I think he should be done now."

He pouts slightly, now that his scarlet goddess' interest is no longer in him.

Brightening, he adds,
"I can take you to him."

The pout she caught, both mentally and physically. She can't have that. He's much more pliable when he's encouraged. She just won't think about what he does when he's thinking about her.

The smile he gets from her wouldn't put anyone in their right mind at ease, but it's all she has. She backs it up with a small touch of her fingertips to his shoulder.

"Do that."

He quivers and holds himself. He'll have to find someplace private to caress the place where she touched him soon.

"Yes! Oh yes yes yes!!" he cries and hurriedly makes his way to the door at the far end of the room. It slides open noiselessly at his approach and he feverishly tosses aside any obstacle that might get in the way of his Mistress.

The room beyond the door, while high-tech like the rest of the Maker's lair, stands in contrast to his other labs. Not cluttered or chaotic, it is a stack white chamber lined with medical bays and soft blue display holograms that hover near their stations.

The maker quickly moves to one of the nearby bays and at his unspoken communion with the machines there, a white cylinder rotates open, revealing the dormant Angel, Warren Worthington III. The scar at his temple can barely be seen.

She approaches the cylinder, her eyes trained solidly on their Angel. She continues to pace to the side of it, her fingers reaching out to barely touch one of his wings.

"These do not get harmed or replaced, even if Xavier orders your to do so." Her eyes which had greedily been taking in the sight of Worthington now snap to the Maker, hardening with the unspoken threat. "Understand?"

His head begins to twitch and his left pupil starts to dilate.

"Yes!

I understand compl.....

There shouldn't be any pr"

The Maker's frame collapses limply as his cyber enhanced brain tries to resolve the conflicting commands. Master and Mistress must be obeyed.

The machines in the labs around them switch to the 'Slave' A.I. as their controller when the Maker's mind goes offline.

A synthesized sound comes from the back of the Maker's metal skull.

She grins as the Maker has a melt down. She loves doing that. Xavier most likely wouldn't want Worthington's wings replaced or it would have happened during the initial process.

She telekinetically moves the Maker into a nearby chair. The overrides should kick in eventually, countermanding the instruction she gave him. She isn't the one in charge after all. Once he comes around, he might mope for a bit...unless she can time it very precisely to give him some telepathic memories of her. If she catches his mind right at the reboot, he'll wake up in very happy spirits indeed.

Meanwhile, she turns her attention back to Worthington. Time to test his responses. She gently runs a fingertip over his lower lip.

"Wake up, Angel."

Eyelids flutter slightly.

Wings ruffle.

Slowly, he lets the light in once again.

"What.... ?"

She steps into his line of sight, tapping into this thoughts to assess his awareness.

"Do you know who I am?"

His eyes blink a few times, shifting around the room, before settling back on her.

Then, a smirk.

"Should I, hot lips?"

He should be scared. Somehow, he isn't.

That might be a smirk that twitches at the corner of her lips, but it's hard to tell.

"You should now."

She paces around to near the base of the cylinder, fingers tracing along the edge of his feathers.

"How are you feeling?"

Last thing he remembers is abject terror. He knows something awful has been done to him, and he doesn't know where he is.

The smile widens.

"Pretty damn good. How 'bout yourself."

The eyebrows waggle.

He gets lifted out of the cylinder under her power and brought close to her. She sets him on his feet, but only releases him so much in case he's still weak from the Maker's procedure.

"Very good."

She's not speaking of herself, but she'll let him interpret how he will.

He's a little wobbly.

The sudden involuntary movement widens his eyes, but the fearful response doesn't come.

"Hey, excellent!"

He's not wearing much of anything, he's facing down a stranger that could most likely overpower him easily.

What a rush!

"You're a foxy little thing, aren't you?"

"If you say so."

She paces around behind him to get a good look at his wings. After a moment, she runs her hand down the length of the feathers.

"How strong are they?"

Suddenly, one wing folds inward, before jutting around behind her, to sweep her up off her feet.

"Strong enough."

Startling her is typically not a good idea. It tends to lead to all kinds of painful situations. However, in this instance, she is able to restrain the urge to teach him not to take liberties. All that slips out is a quick glare.

It also helps that she's here to put him through his paces. She wouldn't be able to do that in her own way if she retaliated. Instead, she turns her mind back to analyzing, which isn't altogether unpleasant.

Interesting. Many possibilities. Oh, Charles. You HAVE to let me have this one!

She runs her hands along the feathers, observing the movements and reactions. Then she looks back to him with a smirk, her arms stretching out along the edge of the wing.

"What else can they do?"

The glare doesn't scare him - it just makes him happier. That's the way the wiring works now.

This would be why feathers will slide up between her legs, then drag down her belly lightly.

"Just give me a chance to show you, huh?"

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I see Rainbows...

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