Okay With It
Title: Okay With It
Universe: That Damn Mpreg
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Surprisingly, Becca’s okay with that.
His birth name was Leroy Tompson, but he called himself Mentallus, Master of the Mental Arts. He thought of himself as an heir to the legacy of the great mutant leaders like Magneto.
The X-Men didn’t care for that overmuch, but Mentallus still managed to gather himself an army of loyal mutants.
The Avengers really didn’t like that. This was why Protean had just broken both his legs and was holding him up by his neck with one beefy hand.
“You’re trying to make me let you go with your telepathy,” the super-strong Avenger noted in a bored tone, his hand squeezing just a little tighter. “But you can’t seem to lock on to me, can you?” He smiled a feral smile. “Alien biology. Given time, you could get to me… but your time is all up.”
“I… won’t lose… to you!”
“Now you’re trying to cut off the flow of blood to my brain.” Protean shook his head and clucked his tongue. “I’m a shape-shifter. I don’t keep my brain there.” Black spots were dancing in front of Mentallus’s eyes. “You Magneto wannabes really piss me off, you know that? He wasn’t right, he was insane.”
“You… can’t… do… this!” Mentallus gasped, clawing weakly at Protean’s hand. The shape shifter’s grip loosened enough to allow the mutant to breathe and speak.
“And why not? You’re a genocidal maniac with delusions of grandeur.”
“Because,” Mentallus gasped out between fits of coughing, “you’re a superhero. You don’t kill. If you kill me, you’ll be no better than me!”
“And I’m okay with that,” Protean said over the crack of Mentallus’ neck snapping.
Universe: That Damn Mpreg
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Surprisingly, Becca’s okay with that.
His birth name was Leroy Tompson, but he called himself Mentallus, Master of the Mental Arts. He thought of himself as an heir to the legacy of the great mutant leaders like Magneto.
The X-Men didn’t care for that overmuch, but Mentallus still managed to gather himself an army of loyal mutants.
The Avengers really didn’t like that. This was why Protean had just broken both his legs and was holding him up by his neck with one beefy hand.
“You’re trying to make me let you go with your telepathy,” the super-strong Avenger noted in a bored tone, his hand squeezing just a little tighter. “But you can’t seem to lock on to me, can you?” He smiled a feral smile. “Alien biology. Given time, you could get to me… but your time is all up.”
“I… won’t lose… to you!”
“Now you’re trying to cut off the flow of blood to my brain.” Protean shook his head and clucked his tongue. “I’m a shape-shifter. I don’t keep my brain there.” Black spots were dancing in front of Mentallus’s eyes. “You Magneto wannabes really piss me off, you know that? He wasn’t right, he was insane.”
“You… can’t… do… this!” Mentallus gasped, clawing weakly at Protean’s hand. The shape shifter’s grip loosened enough to allow the mutant to breathe and speak.
“And why not? You’re a genocidal maniac with delusions of grandeur.”
“Because,” Mentallus gasped out between fits of coughing, “you’re a superhero. You don’t kill. If you kill me, you’ll be no better than me!”
“And I’m okay with that,” Protean said over the crack of Mentallus’ neck snapping.