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Eloi	By : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5007 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Eloi
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11 and 12
- 12-13
- 13-14
- 14-15
- 15-16
- 16-17
- 17-18
- 18-19
- 19-20
- 20-21
- 21-22
- 22-23
- 23-24
- 24-25
- 25-26
- 26-27
- 27-28
- 28-29
- 29-30
- 30-31
- 31-32
- 32-33
- 33-34
- 34-35
- 35-36 and 37
- 36-38 and 39
- 37-40
- 38-41
- 39-42
- 40-43
- 41-44
- 42-45
- 43-46
- 44-47
- 45-48
- 46-49
- 47-50
- 48-51
- 49-52
- 50-53
- 51-54
- 52-55
- 53-56
- 54-57
- 55-58
- 56-59
- 57-60
- 58-61
- 59-62
- 60-63
- 61-64
- 62-65
- 32
- 33
- 34
Eloi Chapter Thirty Four
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN
ALIVE �, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta� It�s never good when
Saturday feels like Monday, is it? InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena
and Greywolf are loverly
and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile:
Sent! Morgan: CONGRATS!!!!! Readers/Reviewers: Thanks oodles and oodles
for reading/reviewing when you can!

Mystique,
like most people, detested being physical ill.
The last time she had thrown up had been when she was pregnant nearly
twenty years before and even then, it was only a few times and always
discretely, in private and behind closed doors.
Engaging in reverse peristalsis[1] in
front of an audience, no matter how glad she was they seemed to be utterly
disgusted by her retching, left her feeling unaccustomedly embarrassed and
exposed. It reminded her that she was
human, no matter how limited her vulnerabilities. She stumbled forward, her wrists bound
behind her back and throwing off her balance.
Her equilibrium was shot, she thought miserably. She could not find her center�it was as if
the floor were moving in a dozen directions all at once, her eyes unable to
focus on any one point. Her skin was
damp with clammy moisture and Mystique felt as if she were burning from the
inside out. Blood and a bilious taste
filled her mouth. She had bitten her
tongue, she realized, the dull pain in her mouth sending a dawning realization
through her. �You�poisoned me,� she
rasped through a vomit-roughened throat, barely keeping her balance as she went
to her knees. She was nude, her disguise
as a non mutant destroyed. She knew
without looking that she was blue again, that her red hair bore little or no
resemblance to a color found in the �normal� world, that
her eyes were bright golden yellow. She
was Other, she was marked.
�No,� a
cold, tired-sounding voice emerged from behind her, �we sedated you.�
�It�s poison,� Mystique shot back. Her heart was racing, erratic. �Which fool did this to me?� She had nothing left in her stomach to bring
up but her body spasmed anyway, sending her bowing
forward and dry heaving as the owner of the other voice stepped around into her
line of vision. It was the woman from
before, cleaner now and dressed in some sort of uniform. It looked to Mystique like black fatigues,
replete with pockets and snaps to conceal any number of weapons or devices. _Great. Fanatics. Just what I need to make my
life complete. More
fanatics. _
�It�s a
simple tranquilizer,� the woman said, sounding more annoyed than tired
now. She squatted before Mystique, her
hands dangling between her knees as she frowned at the mess between her and the
mutant. �You disgust me, Raven Darkholme. You�re
vile. Only an animal stays in it�s own sick.�
Mystique
knew without even trying that her reflexes were not up to par. The sedative in her system was something new
to her, not anything like the typical concoctions Magneto had given her and Sabretooth, educating them on side effects and how to
function while sedated. Her heart was
still racing, making her short of breath.
_Tachycardia.
That�s what it is. Lots of causes�
undetected defects, drug use� idiots with hypodermic needles and no medical
knowledge� _ She took as deep a breath as she could manage
and straightened her spine. She was
aware of how terrible she looked but she did not care, at that moment. She fixed the woman with a look of imperious
rage, a look which most people would recognize for what it was�a death
threat. �You know my name. What is yours? Or are you merely a nameless, useless
drone? Not worthy of anything but a
number on your shirt because to be named would mean you had value.� The last was a commentary rather than a question. Mystique could see the flickering anger in
her guard�s eyes but the woman did not rise to the bait. �No matter,� she continued, moving smoothly
to her feet, or as smoothly as possible with her hands bound. �It is of no importance to me anyway.�
�Your
friend is below us, in the cage.� The
woman�s eyes lit with satisfaction at her own words. �That unholy mating of beast and man will be
an example, proving your base nature to the world.�
Mystique
raised one eloquent brow. �You have such
a small mind,� she sighed, tasting bile on her own breath. �You are a sad creature.� The
blow struck her cheek, the pain fleeting but helping clear her head.
The guard
struck her again, this time on the other cheek.
�I�m human, you dumb cunt. You�re the creature! Not me!� She struck
Mystique several more times, splitting her lip and lacerating her cheek.
Each impact
rang off the walls of the room, but Mystique did not respond verbally. She closed her eyes and breathed through the
pain and anger. Soon, she told
herself. Finally, the guard punched her,
a close-handed blow that sent her reeling backwards. �Now,� she breathed. The sedative was still working in her system,
slowing her shape shifting ability, but it�s effect
was ebbing. With a grunt, Mystique launched herself forward, butting her head against
the other woman�s with a sickening thud.
The guard gasped and staggered backwards but caught herself, her hand
coming up smoothly from her hip, a compact gun glittering sharply in the fluorescent
lighting of the room. �Coward,� Mystique
smiled, the urge to be sick washing over her
again. She fought it, bringing her right
foot up in a crescent kick that connected with the woman�s ribs at the same
time a loud bang resounded in the room, ringing in her ears and deafening
her. _I�ve been shot� why doesn�t it
hurt? _ Mystique wondered for one flailing moment until she realized it was her
guard who was down, crumpling to the floor with blood blooming darkly across
her back. The woman did not make a sound
but shuddered once, then was still.
Mystique�s eyes flickered from the body before her towards the direction
of the shot. A man, his face covered in
an odd, hard mask stood there in a doorway she had not seen before, his body
seeming to blend into the gray wall. She
blinked and the illusion was broken. He
was simply wearing gray, a gray mask, a gray sweat suit. A common thug seeking not
to be recognized. �Now what?�
�Follow
me. You�re wanted below.�

[1]
Peristalsis: http://arbl.cvmbs.colostate.edu/hbooks/pathphys/digestion/basics/peristalsis.html
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