Marvel : the Author

Author note : Hello everyone ! A new chapter of my Marvel fan-fic. If you like it or have things (constructive things preferably) to say about it, don't hesitate to leave a comment. You can also review it or give me stones.

Also, if you're interested in reading more, visit my Patréon page : https://www.patre*n.com/user?u=66371596

You can either copy the link above or go to their website and search for Cathbel.

Available on my page are :

Squib who became Iron Lad : up to 10 chapters in advance.

Marvel : the Author : up to 10 chapters in advance.

Lots of other stories (though mostly beginnings)

Enjoy !

================

Freshening up in the bathroom, I look at my reflexion. My skin tone has gone back to the its former healthy, slightly pale tone, my eyes the same color as my parents. Unfortunately, I am still bald. And according to them, it's something which will stay like this. Then, I think back to what they taught me…

And I was right ! My parents are evil ! For the next few days, they've been trying to cram as much knowledge about witchcraft and the mystic arts as they could. As it turns out, my father was an apprentice in Kamar-Taj because of his latent power. Simply put, my father dreams of his future. At first however, he didn't know what to make of it and it was slowly driving him insane… Especially on a few occasions when bad things happened to him, things he dreamt about a few days or weeks before.

It was only when he dreamt of his meeting with the Ancient One that it started to get better. And only because he worked actively on provoking the meeting with the person… He knew she was the answer for him to control his power. And she did help him, along with teaching him about the mystic and martial arts.

During one of his mission as an apprentice, he met my mother, a witch who sometimes would have deals with the masters of the mystic arts. The rest is history…

In any case, I was and still am surprised and bewildered to discover such a story from my parents. I am glad too, though if they could be a little less enthusiastic about it, I'd be grateful…

My mom had me fill numerous bottles with my ink to study it and how it worked. She discovered that the magical effects could only be applied by me. To be honest, I was relieved when I heard that… I was afraid that Weapon-X or some other human experimentation program would capture me one day and keep me trapped forever for it. Although it can still happen, I knew now that the ink needs me to use it. Now, I just have to work on powering up so that this crazy world doesn't kill me… too soon.

First thing though is to figure out how my power works and the extent of what it can do. Thankfully, with two magical experts at my side and me constantly experimenting with it, we're slowly figuring more things out. Among the most important one is that the way I write is as important as the readability. For instance, the chicken scratch with my fingers in the sewers made my change somewhat incomplete. While I was much more human looking now that I had the proper tools, courtesy of my parents.

Ink bottles, a box filled with nibs and a beautifully crafted wood pen to put them on. With something like this, I just couldn't continue writing as I've been until now… So, I'm learning calligraphy. I feel the effects are even further enhanced the more beautiful my penmanship becomes. Who knows, maybe in time, I'll be able to not only affect myself, but other things in the world, too !

Speaking of affecting myself, it doesn't persay. It affects my mutation, most likely. I'm still trying to figure out how it works exactly but, for now, I've discovered that I can't turn myself into some Apollo or bodybuilder, nor can I give myself claws or things like that. However, I can revert to my former human appearance and tweak my cephalopod appearance. For example, I've managed to move the tentacle from my face to my back, my shoulders and sides as I played with it.

Currently, my mother studies the piece of wall from the sewer I wrote on to get my human form back. My father retrieved it, agreeing that I shouldn't leave parts of myself for others to find, fearing some kind of sympathetic use of magic or other reaction. I didn't really think about that, since I'm not actually an expert in magic… or mutants. Thankfully, mom discovered that once the ink has cast its effects, it isn't considered a part of me anymore, even though I am the one who produces it. As well as the one who benefits from it… Weird ! However, ink in bottles or whose potential hasn't been used can still be used by others for scrying or sympathetic magic… Something to be careful of.

I return to my room and sit at my desk, rolling my left wrist to assuage the pain somewhat. Damn, and I thought school was bad for making you write so much ! My parents are worse ! They have me write a number of nonsensical phrases to see if they have any effects. Up until now, although the ink seems to lose its potency, there hasn't been any visible effects.

So, I resumed writing my novels. In my former life, the one true thing I liked was to think about fantastical, futuristic and fantasy worlds, create stories about them so that I could live by proxy. I haven't done that in this life ever since I found out in what world I was in. It's funny really how you think you want something because your life is boring, only to realize that what you wanted… you didn't really want it after all. Worse yet, you dread it !

Although I was terrified, and thinking of the threats sometimes, I still am, I've gotten back some of my… spirit of creation, I guess. My parents decided to homeschool me for a while until we all get a handle on my mutation. I think they're as afraid as I am that I'll make a mistake and out myself as a mutant. Besides, with my new 'haircut', no doubt the kids would think I have cancer or something… And kids are jerks. Enough said !

So, until I start high school, I will be taught by my parents and pass my exams as an external candidate. Besides, this allows my parents to teach me more in-depths about the mystical world. Dad taught me languages (most of them dead ones) because he said that's the first step to becoming a sorcerer. Mom, on the other hand, taught me about energies : how they travelled, where they concentrated, the different kinds etc…

Even magic has its own vocabulary to learn… I shouldn't be surprised really. Everything does !

As for everything else I would normally learn in school, I'm mostly self-taught. Being as mature as I am, my parents trust me enough not to pay an exorbitant price to someone barely qualified to teach me. Besides, although it's been a while, a rather long while, I'd already learned most of this stuff in my old life. Just have to jog my memory ! That, and practice with problems and exercises gradually more difficult.

On another note, I am still waiting, dreading, a visit from the X-men or their counterpart, the Brotherhood of Mutants. The latter, because it is basically a gang, and its leader doesn't take well to people refusing to join him. As for the former… I didn't really trust Charles Xavier as far as I can throw him. I mean… The man is a pacifist and a member of a minority. How does he expect to be heard ? People will only see the mutants' actions and more noticeably, because it's often portrayed on the news, the violent ones ! Nowadays, people don't care about philosophy and messages of peace.

Moreover, in a number of fan-fiction, and in the Ultimate reality also known as Earth-1610, the man is described as self-serving and a hypocrite, not beyond manipulating people and his own students to achieve his means. Even though, he teaches that using telepathy on someone without their permission is unethical… Then, what about what he did to Jean Grey ? He locked a part of her mind to help her deal with her powers… Only, he also locked the part that contained the Phoenix Force because he was afraid of it ! When it escaped, Jean Grey, unable to process her new power and her newly unlocked feelings, went on a rampage.

And that's not even the only time something Charles Xavier did, came back to bite his students in the ass !

At least, Magneto, although a tyrant, is more straight forward and doesn't have as much baggage, despite being a survivor of concentration camps.

I splash another handful of water on my face just in time to hear my mother behind the door :

« Dear, are you in the bathroom ? »

« Yes, mom ! »

« Come eat once you're finished. We need to talk. »

Uh-oh ! That's never a good sign when someone says that ! A little apprehensive, I dry myself off, dress and exit the bathroom. The smell of bacon and eggs permeates the air, drawing a growl from my stomach.

« Looks like I'm hungry ! » I say smiling.

Reaching the kitchen, I see my father sitting at the table and eating while my mother filled two plates of food. At my approach, they both look at me. My dad then turned to my mother, and asks :

« You're sure about that ? He's just a kid… »

« I think it's the best to get more answers. Besides, I'm a professional. You know that, right ? »

I don't understand what they're talking about but then again, ever since their grand reveal of their magical knowledge and powers, as well as my dad's belonging to the mutant kind, most of what they talk about seems obscure to me. Still, I demand :

« What are you guys talking about ? »

For a while, there's only silence until my dad shrugs and my mom looks seriously at me. She says :

« Honey, you know I'm a psychologist, right ? »

I nod before asking :

« Wait ! So that part's true ? »

My dad laughs and my mother quirks an eyebrow :

« Nathan Norrson, did you just imply that we've lied to you ? »

Sheepish, I stab a fork in my plate, refusing to make eye contact with my mom. Nathan Norrson, that's my name, by the way, son of Henry and Dana Norrson.

She sighs and resumes :

« Yes, dear. That part is true ! We've never really lied to you. We just… omitted some things about ourselves. Anyway, the reason I'm talking about this is… To tell you about the subconscious. » A pause, then : « You see, something you learn in Psychology is that, even though, there are things we don't seem to know about ourselves, often the subconscious is aware of it, meaning a part of you is aware. It's really a simplified explanation but… Do you understand so far ? »

I nod, though I inwardly wonder where she's going with this. Without sugarcoating it, she tells me :

« I want to put you in a trance in order to find out exactly what your powers can do ! »

Surprised and confused, I just look at my parents in silence.