Round And Round free porn video

This story is a Whateley Universe fan fiction. Round and Round By Morpheus I was curled up on my bed with tears running down my cheeks as my head pounded in agony. This wasn't a normal headache or even just a migraine, it was a super migraine. Or worse, it was Migrainezilla. "It's going to be all right David," Mom told me as she put a gentle hand on my shoulder and tried to comfort me. "It's going to be fine honey..." At any other time, I would have been offended at my Mom treating me like this, as if I was some kind of a little kid who needed to be babied. After all, I was fifteen years old, hardly a little kid anymore. However, this ungodly pressure in my head was enough to make me grateful for any little relief I could get, even if it was only emotional. Mom stayed with me for a few more minutes, making soft and comforting noises that I didn't really pay much attention to. Instead I just kept my eyes closed since the light only made my head hurt even worse. And though it hurt to even think, I couldn't help but wondering if this was what a hangover felt like. Last New Years, Dad had complained about having a really bad hangover, saying that it was like being sick to your stomach and having the headache from hell at the same time. That was a lot like how I felt at that moment. Eventually, Mom got up and left my room, turning off the light as she did so. "Is David sick again?" I heard my little sister Becky exclaim from the hallway. I winced at her loud voice, which was painful at the moment. "Yes Becky," Mom answered in a quieter voice. "Now let's be quiet and let your brother rest..." After that everything went quiet, for which I was grateful. Sitting in the dark with no noise except for the faint hum of the ceiling fan was not only relaxing, but exactly what I needed at the moment. I knew from past experience, that this was the best way to get the pounding in my head to go away. Half an hour later, Migrainezilla had receded enough so that it was back to the level of a normal headache and it continued to fade away further. I finally got up and left my room, then went to the bathroom to take a leak. Afterwards I splashed some cold water on my face and looked into the bathroom mirror. I winced at the image, deciding that I looked like crap. In fact, I probably looked about as bad as Dad did whenever he came home from work after a sixteen hour shift. Normally I didn't look too bad, or at least not compared to any other boy my age. I was a skinny blonde kid with ears that were just a little too large and with a scar across my chin due to an old childhood accident on the playground. I would have preferred to see a little more muscle in the mirror, but what boy wouldn't. When I went to the living room, Mom gave me a smile and asked, "Are you feeling better?" "For now," I responded bitterly. My headaches had started about two months ago, first coming every couple days for no apparent reason. They hadn't been too strong at first either, no more than any normal headache. But then about a month ago, they became more painful as well as more frequent. Now I was suffering from chronic migraines which usually hit me for an hour or so every day. It was agonizing and frustrating since even the prescription medication didn't do much for them. All I could do was wait for them to go away on their own. "We have another appointment with the doctor next week," Mom reminded me, though I doubted it would do much good. During my last visit, I'd gone through an MRI, but they hadn't found anything. The only good thing that had come from it was the confirmation that I didn't have a brain tumor, which had actually been one of our worries. "Hopefully the doctors will find something with this round of tests." I nodded at that, though not very enthusiastically. My optimism that the doctors would find out what was wrong with me had faded just a little bit with each new migraine. Now I just dreaded the thought that I'd spend the rest of my life dealing with them. These chronic migraines had already made things pretty difficult on me and had even cost me my position on the school track team. After all, collapsing in pain in the middle of a track meet didn't exactly make for a good showing. I was feeling pretty ragged, which wasn't normal for me, or at least it hadn't been before these headaches started. I went to the kitchen and began to fix myself an espresso from the fancy machine Dad had bought a couple months ago, but Mom snatched the coffee beans right out of my hand and shook her head 'no'. "No caffeine for you," Mom reminded me with a faint smile. "Have some orange juice instead. It will be better for you." "But Mom," I protested, giving my best whiney voice, though I knew it wouldn't do much good. This was something of an old exchange and I knew exactly what her response would be. "You know good and well you're not allowed to drink this stuff," Mom pointed out with a sigh. "The last thing I need is to have you bouncing off the walls again. You're hyper enough without the caffeine." I grinned at that and went to pour myself a glass of juice, knowing that once Mom wasn't paying attention anymore I'd make myself an espresso. By the time I actually sat down with my orange juice and a cookie, I was feeling much better. My headache had receded completely and my energy level was starting to recover, though of course, some caffeine would definitely help speed up the process. "Good, you're up," Becky exclaimed when she saw me sitting there. Then without waiting for an invitation, she snatched one of my cookies and made a show of eating it right in front of me. "Now I don't have to be quiet." Becky stood there with a smug look on her face, making me wonder what she was up to. I had a feeling that she was thinking of ways to get even with me for making her be quiet while I was dealing with my migraine. The fact that I'd already suffered enough probably never even occurred to her. After all, she was only six years old and a bit... precocious. At least, that was what Mom called her. I just called her a brat, though Mom always laughed at that and said she was just like I was at that age. "Come on," Becky announced, as though the decision had already been made. "You're playing tea party with me." I gave Becky a suspicious look, knowing that she wasn't the kind of girl who usually got into tea parties. In fact, she was more of a tomboy than she was a girlie girl, and the last time someone had given her a doll, she'd promptly cut its hair to give it a Mohawk and then used a permanent marker to give it tattoos as well. The doll hadn't lasted long beyond that before it was dismembered and scattered throughout the house. After a moment, I shrugged and said, "Sure, why not?" Honestly, I was curious about what my little sister had in mind. If nothing else, she was never boring. I soon found that when Becky said tea party, she really meant T party... as in Mister T. She had several dolls and stuffed animals which the two of us proceeded to give mohawks to, then we sat around talking like Mister T. It was actually pretty funny, especially when Becky 'borrowed' all of Mom's necklaces, then started going around the house exclaiming, "I pity the fool..." The look on Dad's face when he came home was hilarious, especially when he shook his head and muttered, "That's it... No more A team reruns..." Dad was a heavyset man, in no small part because of his career as a professional cook. He owned his own restaurant, a small diner that served breakfast and lunch, but wasn't open for dinner. During the summer and weekends, I frequently worked there washing dishes, cleaning tables, and generally doing anything that needed done. Fortunately Dad did pay me for my work, which was a good thing since I didn't get an allowance and that was the only way for me to earn money. "Too bad about those pesky child labor laws," Dad joked, giving me a broad grin. "Otherwise I'd be able to keep you two out of trouble by putting you to work full time." Dad said the same thing fairly often, though I knew he didn't mean it. Sure, he liked to put me to work to 'keep me out of trouble', as he usually put it, but he also believed that kids needed time to be kids. At fifteen, I certainly didn't consider myself a kid anymore, but this was one of the occasions when I didn't argue the point. If I did, Dad might decide to increase my work hours and responsibilities. "So, do you want me coming in with you tomorrow?" I asked Dad nervously. Dad hesitated just a moment and then glanced to Mom before responding, "Of course." Tomorrow was Saturday, one of the busiest days at the diner and I knew Dad would need all the help he could get. Normally he wanted me there to work, but he was a bit worried about my headaches and didn't want to put too much stress on me. Less than an hour later, we were sitting down for dinner, which consisted of a couple pizzas. After Dad spent most of the day cooking, he usually wasn't in the mood to do even more of it once he got home, which meant that he often got lazy about dinner and either left it for Mom or ordered out. And as we ate, we turned to our normal topic of dinner conversation, what we did during the day. "I got into a fight at school," Becky stated proudly. "That meanie Bobby tried pushing me, so I hit him." "Young ladies don't get into fights," Mom told her, though Becky just shrugged it off as she usually did. "Then I bet he won't push you again," I said, encouraging Becky, who just grinned at that. Mom rolled her eyes and Dad chuckled. Becky nodded enthusiastically, then said, "If Bobby pushes me again, I'll hit him so hard his head falls off..." "BECKY," Mom gasped while Dad and I just tried to keep from laughing. "I had something weird happen today," Dad said a minute later. "A mutant came into the restaurant." There was a clear note of disapproval in his voice. "A mutant?" Mom asked in surprise. "Well, he had pointed ears and solid green eyes," Dad said with a scowl. "And he ate three whole meals...so I'm pretty sure he was a mutant." "What did you do?" Mom asked, looking worried. Dad snorted at that. "I fed him and got him out of there as quickly as I could. I would have kicked him out but I didn't know what he would have done if he got angry..." "You should have called the MCO," Mom stated. "You know how dangerous those mutants are..." Suddenly Becky asked, "What's a mutant?" Mom and Dad both paused at that to look at Becky. Then Dad carefully answered, "A mutant is someone who is very sick..." "Like David?" she asked, looking at me and making me wince. "Absolutely not," Dad responded firmly. "Mutants have bad DNA...sort of like cancer. It makes them sick...and dangerous to everyone around them." "I think it's all the pollution," Mom stated. "We never had all these mutants until we started polluting everything. If we cleaned up the environment and everyone took care of their diet, then I'm sure the mutant problem would just go away..." I rolled my eyes and ate in silence while Mom and Dad complained about the mutant 'problem'. It was annoying, but I knew from past experience that they'd soon get bored of this subject and move onto something else. "So, Becky," I said, deciding to take an active role in changing the subject. "Didn't you have a new song you wanted to show Mom and Dad?" Becky grinned at that and immediately began singing, right there at the dinner table. It was an annoying little song and I saw our parents quickly wince, though they struggled to hold fake smiles filled with false appreciation. My sister's off tune singing hurt my ears as well, but the looks on Mom and Dad's faces was enough to make up for it. I just wondered how much more effective this would be if I gave Becky an energy drink. Maybe it was time to introduce her to espresso. -------------------- I grimaced as I began removing the hot and steaming dishes from the dishwasher, knowing that I had to be quick about it since I had another load that needed to go in. The diner was always busy during the lunch rush, which meant that it was the time of day when I was needed most, but least wanted to be here. I much preferred the quieter periods where Dad and his cook Henri would sometimes take the time to give me cooking lessons. Once I'd finished reloading the commercial dish washer, I leaned against the edge of the sink and let out a sigh. I wiped the sweat from my forehead, looked down at my wet shirt, and was thankful that I'd brought a change of clothes. I just wished that we had a shower here at the restaurant, because I felt like I needed one even more than I did after gym class in school. "David," Henri called out to me, giving me a flat look. The big hairy man could be pretty intimidating when he wanted to be, especially with his arms all tattooed up. However I knew that underneath that rough exterior, he was actually as soft and cuddly as a grizzly bear. "If you've got time to lean, you've got time to clean." "Yes sir, mister bossman sir," I responded, giving him a salute, and intentionally doing a very poor job of it. Henri used to be in the Navy and I liked to mess with him about it a little, though I knew better than to argue and was already moving to do what he told me. "Smartass," Henri muttered. By the time the lunch rush was ending, I was tired and eager to get out of here. However I didn't bother complaining, since my six hour shift was nothing compared to the hours that Dad worked. In fact, I hadn't even seen him take a break the entire time I was here. He just kept moving around the kitchen like a man possessed, putting out hamburgers, omelets, and bowls of his spicy chili, as well as numerous other items from the menu. "I've got a job for you," Dad told me. I let out a sigh and asked, "Am I gonna need a mop for this one?" "No," Dad responded with a chuckle. "Just your feet. I need you to drop the check from that catering job off at the bank on your way home." I grinned at that, immediately catching the implication that I was done for the day. I went into the back room and changed into my clean clothes, then came out and poured myself a cup of coffee into a 'to go' cup, adding a good amount of cream into the mix. Once I was ready, I grabbed the check and deposit slip from Dad and hurried out the door. Dad's diner was downtown, just three blocks away from the bank he used. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the bank, and from there I could catch a bus back to our apartment. With my coffee in hand, I began my walk. The bank was located on the intersection of Main street and Third, occupying the entire bottom floor of a seven story building. I had no idea what other businesses filled the rest of the building, nor did I really care. All I had to do was deposit Dad's check, then I was done for the day. As soon as I stepped into the bank lobby, I suddenly felt a pressure forming in my head, one which made me wince at what I knew was coming. This headache wasn't bad yet, but that was going to change very soon. There was no mistaking the beginnings of one of my migraines. "Just great," I muttered in frustration. While I stood in line, waiting for my turn and silently wishing it would go faster so I could get out of there before my migraine fully formed, I slowly looked around at everyone else present. There was the bored looking security guard who stood near the doors, an obnoxious woman who was loudly complaining to a man who I assumed was her husband, and an overweight guy who was taking his time with the teller. Of course, there were other people as well, some customers and some employees, but none of them really stood out to me. When I got to the front of the line, I silently handed the teller the check and deposit slip. My headache was really starting to hurt now so I wasn't in the mood to talk or be friendly. I just wanted to get out of here and back home as fast as I could. Suddenly a woman's voice yelled, "Nobody move!" I snapped around to see the source of the yelling, as did everyone else in the bank. There was a woman standing at the entrance, one who would have immediately drawn my attention even if she hadn't said a word. The woman was about six feet tall with long red hair and a body that was sexy and athletic. The term 'statuesque' immediately came to mind. But even more noticeable than all that was the fact that she was wearing a spandex costume that left very little to the imagination. Her costume was red with white trim and covered her entire body from the neck down. The only skin that was visible was on her face, though even that was half covered by the red mask around her eyes. A moment later, the security guard began to react, but she grabbed him and lifted him off the ground using only one arm. She didn't even look like she was straining. In the process, the security guard dropped the gun that he'd been in the process of pulling from his holster. "You can call me Pinball," the costumed woman exclaimed, casually tossing the security guard towards the center of the lobby, well away from his gun. "This is a robbery. If everyone cooperates, no one will get hurt. I'm only interested in the money, not in any of you. So if everyone will calmly sit down on the floor and remain there without causing any trouble, I'll get my money and be gone in no time." My eyes widened at the realization that the bank was being robbed by some kind of super villain, but strangely enough, I didn't really feel afraid. My headache had become even worse and had entered into the migraine level, but I wasn't the least bit scared...or much of anything else. "I think we should all do what she says," another woman said. The new speaker looked like she was in her late twenties and was wearing a gray suit and skirt. She had shoulder length brown hair and a pair of glasses that made me think 'librarian'. "I don't want to get hurt," the librarian said, sitting down on the floor. "Everyone sit over there," Pinball instructed, gesturing to the area around the librarian. Then she turned to one of the tellers and said, "Not you... I want you to load up a bag with money. If there are any dye packs in there, I won't be happy, and if I'm not happy, you won't be either. And remember, this isn't your money and the insurance will recoup the loss." I sat down on the floor along with everyone else, wincing as my head pounded worse and worse. I looked around, feeling vaguely surprised at how calm and relaxed everyone seemed. Not a single person looked afraid, much less like they were about to freak out and panic. I'd never been in this kind of situation before, but I would have thought that at least one person would have freaked out. A minute later, the sound of police sirens could be heard from outside the bank, though the loud noise made my migraine even worse, if that was even possible. Migrainezilla had come back, even worse than it had ever been before. Tears began flowing due to the pain. "They're here a little sooner than I expected," Pinball mused aloud. Then she looked around and said, "Everyone stay where you are and you'll be safe." Pinball went to the glass doors, and for a moment, she was suddenly standing in the middle of what looked like a giant soap bubble. The bubble shimmered and then vanished again, though my headache surged worse and I actually cried out in pain. My head felt like it was about to explode. In fact, my entire body felt like it was on fire, which was something new. Pinball snapped around and stared at me for a moment, then she abruptly gestured to me and exclaimed, "That's what you get for staring at me." She looked around at the other hostages and said, "I warned you all not to cause trouble, now it looks like I'm going to have to teach this kid a lesson." With that Pinball grabbed my arm and lifted me to my feet, then drug me out of the lobby and to some office next door. I was hurting too much to fight her or resist, not that it would have done me any good. I'd seen from how she treated the security guard and how easily she'd lifted me that she was pretty strong. Once we were in the office, Pinball set me down in a chair with a surprising gentleness, then asked, "Are you all right kid?" "What did you do to me?" I asked, though it came out weak and shaky. "I didn't do anything to you," Pinball answered, staring at me for a moment before abruptly asking, "What color are your eyes?" I was surprised by the question, and also having a difficult time focusing because of the pain. I grabbed the sides of my head, as though I could push my migraine back down, or at least keep my head from exploding. "What color are your eyes?" Pinball repeated. "Gray," I finally answered, though I was having a hard time focusing enough to even answer such a simple question as that. "No they aren't," Pinball told me. "And unless I miss my guess, you're in the middle of manifesting..." It took half a minute for those words to sink in, and even then I was still feeling confused. "Manifesting?" "As a mutant," Pinball responded, giving me a rather gentle smile. I gasped at that then protested weakly, "I'm not a mutant..." "Your eyes are definitely NOT gray," Pinball told me gently. "And you were starting to glow out there in the lobby. Stressful situations can sometimes trigger a mutant's manifestation, and I think a bank robbery qualifies. I figured that I'd better get you out of there before anyone realized that you were a mutant. If they did, they'd probably assume you were with me, and I didn't want that." I was trying hard to listen to her words, but I was having a difficult time absorbing them at the moment. My entire body still hurt and my head felt like it was going to explode. Tears were coming down my cheeks and all I wanted to do was curl up and make the rest of the world go away. "You really don't look good," Pinball told me, actually sounding worried. "Damn, I hope you're not going through a burnout..." With that Pinball took off her glove and reached out to feel my forehead. As soon as she touched me, I felt as though I'd been shocked, starting on my forehead and then shooting down all the way to my toes. I let out a scream and would have collapsed to the floor if I hadn't been sitting in the chair. "What was that?" Pinball exclaimed, yanking her hand back and staring at it. She scowled and gave me an odd look, saying, "At least you don't seem to have a temperature, so I don't think you're having a burnout." I just sat there, feeling dazed but oddly pain free. It was as though that odd shock had somehow released all the pressure in my head, making my headache vanish instantly. I didn't understand how that was even possible, but I certainly wasn't about to complain. "You stay here kid," Pinball told me. "Out of sight and out of trouble. Once I'm gone, you can tell the cops I roughed you up or something." With that Pinball put her glove back on and left the office. I just watched her leave, feeling confused because that certainly wasn't how I'd expected a super villain to behave. She'd almost been...nice. I remained where I was, feeling worried and confused. I didn't know why I'd felt so calm and unafraid out in the lobby when I was being taken hostage, but that was now gone. It wasn't Pinball who frightened me at that moment, but it was what she'd said. She thought I was a mutant. My migraine was completely gone, vanishing faster and more completely than it had ever done before. However I still didn't feel right, though I couldn't quite explain it. All I knew was that I had a strange certainty that something was different. "My eyes," I suddenly blurted out in realization. "She said something about my eyes..." And then I remembered that Pinball had also said something about me glowing. I looked down at myself and saw no sign of any glowing, much to my relief. Maybe Pinball had imagined it. Or maybe, she was just trying to mess with me for some reason. After all, she was a bank robber and super villain so she didn't exactly have a lot of credibility. After a few minutes, I hesitantly got up out of the chair, a little nervous that Pinball would come back and catch me. She had told me to sit there after all. But then again, she hadn't really seemed worried about leaving me alone. I looked around the office, smiling when I saw a coffee pot sitting in the corner. I grabbed a paper cup from a stack that was sitting next to the coffee maker, then helped myself to some of the go juice. "Being a hostage isn't really that bad," I mused as I took a drink. I just wondered if it was safe to come out of the office now, though it would probably be best to remain here until the cops came. Then as I looked around the office, I noticed a purse sitting on the floor next to the desk. I wouldn't have given it much thought, but I saw a makeup compact sitting right on top. That reminded me again of what Pinball had said about my eyes not being gray. "She's full of it," I told myself, though I reached for the makeup compact anyway. After all, there was only one way to know for sure. I popped open the compact and looked into the small mirror that I knew would be inside. I couldn't make out much, but it was enough to see my eyes clearly. And to my surprise, Pinball had been telling the truth. My eyes weren't gray anymore. "No way," I blurted out, adjusting the mirror and trying to get a better look at my eyes. My eyes...the irises were no longer gray in color. They were golden and almost seemed to glow faintly. I was absolutely stunned by the sight, feeling worried and even more confused. "I'm not a mutant," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I can't be..." In spite of what my parents thought, I didn't think that mutants were diseased freaks who were a threat to the human race. After all, there was a girl at school who I'd really liked who was a mutant, not that I'd ever told Mom and Dad that. However, the idea of ME being a mutant... The idea seemed ludicrous. When Pinball came back into the office a short time later, she mused almost to herself, "There are a LOT more cops out there than I'd expected, and this whole thing has taken longer than I'd planned. I guess getting out is going to be just a little more challenging..." "What did you do to me?" I demanded, suddenly feeling angry and glaring at her as though this was entirely her fault. In fact, it was her fault. If she hadn't robbed the bank, none of this would have happened. "What did you do to me? What did you do to my eyes?" "Like I told you earlier, I didn't do anything to you," she told me in an almost gentle tone. "Sorry kid, but you can blame your own DNA for those eyes...and whatever else your body is doing." "But I'm not a mutant," I protested, swinging from angry to terrified again. All I could think of was what Mom and Dad would say if I was. "I can't be..." Pinball just stood there for a moment before shaking her head sympathetically. "Sorry kid, but it doesn't work like that. Whether you like it or not, I'd say you're probably a mutant...unless you got exposed to alien radiation or something like that." She chuckled at that. "Either way, it probably isn't a good idea for you to stick around here." My entire body was shaking and I wanted to scream and deny that I could possibly be a mutant. But instead, I picked up my half-finished cup of lukewarm coffee and took a careful sip, trying to act as though I was calm and in control, when the truth was that I was anything but. "What do you mean?" I asked quietly. "You're starting to glow again," Pinball pointed out. I stared down at my hands and was startled to see that there was a faint golden glow around them, though it stopped a moment later. "Between that and your eyes, it really isn't safe for you here..." I gulped at that remembering what she'd said after she brought me into the office. "You said they might think I was with you..." "A definite possibility," Pinball agreed. "And when it comes to mutants, the cops tend to shoot first and ask questions later. However I think we'll have worse problems than the cops." "Like my parents?" I responded with a weak smile. "Yeah, if they think I'm involved in your robbery, I'll wish the cops got me first..." Pinball chuckled at that, then said, "Actually, I've been here way too long. It won't be long before either some super heroes arrive, or worse...the MCO. If it's the heroes, they may get a little rough with you at first, but you'll probably be all right. But if it's the MCO..." She paused at that her expression turning grim. "Well, if they don't shoot you on sight, they'll probably make you disappear." I gasped at that, then protested, "But the MCO wouldn't do that... They're the good guys..." At least, that TV show about the MCO protecting the public from dangerous mutants always showed them to be the good guys. However I had heard a few stories and rumors that they tended to get a little...overenthusiastic about taking down mutants. Pinball just snorted and said, "Trust me kid, you do NOT want to find out what bastards they really are. I'm getting you out of here before that happens. As far as anyone else will know, you're just some unknown hostage." A few seconds later, Pinball left the office and told me to follow her. I didn't really to go with her, especially since my super power of common sense said that going anywhere with a super villain and bank robber was a very bad idea. However her talk about my being shot by the cops or MCO had me worried, especially when I thought about my eyes and the way I'd been glowing a minute earlier. After several painful seconds of indecision, I started after her. "Everyone remain where you are," Pinball called out to the hostages in the lobby. "The police haven't come in yet because they're afraid of you getting hurt, but that won't last much longer. Don't worry, I'm going to leave before that happens, but stay there on the floor until the cops come in and you'll stay safe." A moment later, Pinball slung a large backpack full of money onto her back, then grabbed me and made a show of taking me as a hostage. She pulled me, not towards the main entrance like I'd expected, but to an elevator off to the side. Once we were inside the elevator with the doors closed, she let go of me. "Don't worry kid," she told me with a grin. "I'm gonna get you out of here safe and sound." I snorted at that and responded, "I might believe that a little more if it wasn't coming from a bank robber who just took me hostage." Pinball chuckled at that and said, "Trust me." "As I just said," I commented, earning another chuckle. It was strange riding in the elevator with a super villain who had who knows how much stolen money slung over her shoulder. I knew that I should be terrified, and I was, just not of her. Instead I was afraid of the cops, the MCO, and of what my Mom and Dad would say when they found out about this. "I am so dead," I muttered to myself. "You know kid, you're being pretty brave about this," Pinball said when we reached the top floor. "My name isn't kid," I said in annoyance, wishing that she'd stop calling me that. "I'm David. David Michaels." "Well...David," she said with an amused smile. "It's a good thing you're coming with me." She reached out and touched my hair and added, "Your hair is starting to change color..." "What?" I gasped in surprise, reaching up to touch my hair, though it felt the same. We got out of the elevator and then Pinball went to the stairway and continued going up, ending up on the roof. I followed behind her, wondering if she was expecting a helicopter to pick her up. Then again, she was a mutant with powers, so she was probably planning to fly out of there. "Come on," Pinball urged me, going to the edge of the building and looking over the edge. "Definitely a lot of cops down there." I hesitantly looked over the edge and gulped, deciding that it was a long way down, especially without any railings to keep me from falling. However I did notice that Pinball was right. There were a lot of cops down there. There had to be a dozen cop cars, police vans, and even fire engines surrounding the bank. And that didn't even take into account the helicopter that hovered in the distance. "Trust me," Pinball said, putting her arm around my waist and pulling me close. "And hold on tight." With that Pinball jumped off the building, taking me with her. I let out a scream of terror as we rapidly fell towards the ground, probably sounding like a little girl, but not really caring at the moment. I closed my eyes before impact, but then we suddenly stopped...but not the way I'd expected. There was no sudden stop that ended in death, or even any jarring. It was as though we'd simply stopped falling and ignored the laws of physics and inertia. When I opened my eyes, I saw that we were on the ground right outside the bank. Cops were all over the place and were staring at us in surprise before they began pointing their weapons at us. Then I noticed a shimmering in the air all around us, as though we were both within the middle of a giant soap bubble. "My force field absorbed the kinetic energy from the fall," Pinball told me proudly. "And it can do the same to their bullets. They can shoot all they want and it only makes my force field stronger." I wanted to blurt out an 'oh shit', but my heart was racing too hard and I was too shaken to even speak. It was all I could do to just remain standing and breathing. "Keep holding onto me kid...David," Pinball instructed. "Now I'm going to show you why I'm called Pinball." A moment later, Pinball and I began moving forward, though neither of us had actually moved. I gasped as I realized that force field bubble we were inside of was actually rolling down the street like a giant ball, though from inside the bubble it didn't feel like we were moving at all. "Are you sure you're not called Hamster Ball?" I joked weakly as I remembered the plastic hamster ball that Becky's old pet used to roll around the house with. "Smartass," Pinball responded. "And shouldn't we be tumbling around inside here?" I asked nervously. Pinball didn't answer me and instead seemed to be focusing on all the cops and police cars which surrounded us. She grinned and then we suddenly began rolling forward even faster, completely ignoring the fact that the police were shooting at us. "Oh shit," I finally blurted out as we went straight for a cop car. We didn't slow down or change directions at all, and instead we continued going faster until we smashed right into the side of the cop car...and kept going. I hadn't felt any impact when we hit, realizing that it must be more of whatever effects protected us from falling or kept us from tumbling around while we moved. Just seconds after we'd smashed through the first cop car, we hit a police van and then bounced off, ricocheting and hitting the side of a building before bouncing off again. "We're gonna die," I cried out in terror, though Pinball actually seemed to be enjoying herself. The force field bubble shot back and forth across the street, bouncing around like we were inside a giant pinball machine while smashing into walls and vehicles as cops jumped out of the way. In half a minute, we'd hit nearly every police car in the vicinity and then changed direction and began rolling down the street at a high speed. "When I was about your age and first chose my codename," Pinball said in a casual tone, "I couldn't really direct my force field and tended to bounce off everything without control. Fortunately that isn't the case anymore." She proved that by suddenly making a right turn at an intersection and continuing down the street, rolling between cars and even over a few. When there was a large truck in our path, the force field bubble we were inside of actually leapt over the obstacle before hitting the ground and continuing down the road. "I love my power," Pinball commented as we bounced over another vehicle in our path. "It's offense, defense, and transportation...all rolled into one." I nodded at that, then joked, "It sounds like a well-rounded power." Pinball chuckled at that. "It's been awhile since I heard that one. You really are a smartass." "Better than being a dumbass," I responded, which earned another chuckle. "I can't disagree with that," she told me. "Now that we got away, I'll drop you off somewhere safe and then I'll be on my way. I'll make sure to create enough of a disturbance that they'll follow me until I can lose them again." A minute later, we went into a parking garage and came to a stop. Once we did, the force field bubble vanished and I was once again standing on normal ground. I felt an odd mixture of relief at that, but also disappointment since that ride had actually been pretty fun, once I'd gotten over my terror that is. "That was the best carnival ride ever," I joked, trying to cover my nervousness. "You should go work for Six Flags..." "I'll think about it," Pinball told me with an amused look. Then her expression turned serious and she stared at me for a moment before saying, "Be careful kid. Your body is obviously going through some changes, though I have no idea what kind. Just try to keep it as quiet as you can, and avoid the attention of Humanity First or those MCO assholes. Trust me, you don't want to be outed as a mutant if you can help it, and you especially don't want those kind of people to notice you." "Um...thanks," I told her awkwardly. "I think." "Being a mutant can be really rough," Pinball told me sadly. "But a lot of good things can come from it too, if you have an open mind. Anyway, I've got to get going. Good luck." And with that the force field bubble appeared around Pinball again. She nodded to me, then rolled right back out of the parking garage and down the street to lead any pursuit away from me. I stood there for a minute, feeling confused about everything that was going on. If it hadn't just happened to me, I probably would have thought it was the plot from some movie or comic book. I also didn't know what to think of Pinball. On one hand, she was a super villain and bank robber, but on the other, she'd actually been pretty nice to me. "My friends are never going to believe I went joy riding with a super villain," I told myself with a chuckle. However that thought also reminded me of one major problem that I still had to deal with. What in the world was I going to tell Mom and Dad? -------------------- "This isn't fair," I exclaimed bitterly as I paced back and forth across my small bedroom. I was feeling cooped up, a little claustrophobic, and very frustrated as I plopped down my bed and let out a loud sigh. With the way Mom and Dad were treating me, you'd think that I was the one who robbed the bank yesterday, not that I was one of the hostages. I felt like I was locked up in jail, though at least in jail I might have had someone else to talk to. When I'd returned home yesterday, Mom and Dad had been worried, having heard that there was a bank robbery at the Goodkind Bank branch where I'd gone to drop off the check. However Mom's next reaction was to demand to know what I'd done with my hair...and then my eyes. And when I'd reluctantly admitted that I might be a mutant, they both stared at me in horror...as though I'd suddenly caught cancer and had become extremely contagious as well. I'd been immediately sent to my room and hadn't been allowed to come out since, except to use the bathroom. Mom and Dad didn't even let me come out for dinner or breakfast and had instead brought my food to me, not even coming into my room when they did so. "This isn't jail," I spat out bitterly. "It's quarantine." I snorted at that. I didn't know a lot about mutants and what made them into mutants, but even I knew that they weren't contagious. From out in the hallway, I heard Becky exclaim, "But I wanna play with David. I'm BORED..." She emphasized the word 'bored' in the way that only little kids could. "Stay away from David," Mom told her firmly. "David is sick now..." "He's always sick," Becky protested. "But this is different," Mom insisted. "David is dangerous now...to himself and everyone else. I don't want him to accidentally hurt you..." There was a long moment of silence before Becky asked, "Is David going to get better?" "I don't think he will," Mom answered her sadly. "But I've called some experts to take care of him." I let out a gasp at that wondering what kind of experts Mom meant. Had she called some doctors to come take a look at me, maybe confirm whether or not I really was a mutant? If so, maybe they could help me figure out these weird changes to my body...and tell me if I actually had some powers besides glowing like a night light. As I'd already discovered at the bank, my eyes and turned into an odd golden color that definitely wasn't normal. After I'd gotten home, I found that my hair had begun changing color as well. Instead of being blonde like I normally was, my hair was turning red...and growing longer. Since yesterday, almost all of my hair had turned red and had grown at least four inches. I supposed that as far as changes went, that wasn't really too bad, but I had a feeling there was more to it than that. My entire body felt just a little odd, and every once in awhile I'd feel a strange tingling sensation in one place or another. At the moment, I felt one of those odd tingles along my arms, and when I scratched at my arms, I was startled to realize that my arm hair was missing. I didn't have a lot of arm hair, and what I did have was normally light colored and not very visible, but now it was gone entirely. "I sure hope those doctors can help me," I said, feeling worried. A short time later, I heard Mom out in the hallway, saying, "He's in here..." "You're doing the right thing ma'am," an unknown man responded. "Now stay back and let us handle this. Mutants can be extremely dangerous..." "What the...?" I gasped in surprise, jumping to my feet and wondering what was going on. A moment later, my door burst open and an armed man in SWAT gear rushed in, pointing a large weapon straight at me. Two more men who were similarly dressed and armed came in right behind then. "Don't move," the first man yelled. "Hold out your hands mutant..." I was confused and absolutely terrified, and when I suddenly noticed their uniforms said MCO, I became even more so. I suddenly remembered Pinball's warnings about what might happen if the MCO knew I was a mutant and nearly shit my pants. I quickly raised my hands so they wouldn't shoot me, then realized that I was starting to glow with a golden light again, just like I'd done at the bank. Suddenly one of the men shot me with some kind of taser which sent a surge of pain through my entire body. I screamed while having some kind of seizure before all my muscles seemed to turn to jello and I collapsed to the ground like a rag doll, unable to even move. "Damn mutant freak," one of them exclaimed as he kicked me in the face. There was an explosion of pain in my nose and lip and I immediately tasted blood. "Don't even think of trying to use your powers on us..." The other two men gave me swift kicks as well, catching me in my stomach and side. I would have tried curling up into a ball to protect myself, but my muscles still weren't responding, so all I could do was lay there sobbing as they kicked me and then roughly cuffed my hands behind my back. Then they each gave me one more kick before dragging me to my feet. "It's always good to get them early," one of the men told the others. "They don't know their own powers and are a lot easier to take into custody." With that the three men proceeded to drag me out of my room and down the hall. I couldn't move enough to resist at all, much less actually put up a fight. I had little doubt that even if I had been able to move, it wouldn't have done any good. These men had real weapons as well as the taser and I suspected they wouldn't hesitate to use them. "David," Becky cried out in the living room, crying and trying to get to me though Mom held her firmly back. "David..." "These men are making sure David won't be able to accidentally hurt anyone," Mom told my sister sadly. She actually had tears running down her cheeks as she stared at me, saying, "I'm sorry David...but this is for the best." I wanted to scream and cry out at this betrayal, of my own Mom turning me over to these people like this. However I still couldn't move or do anything except gurgle incomprehensively while tears ran down my cheeks. Mom turned away so she didn't have to look at me, taking a bawling Becky out of the room with her. That sight was enough to hurt me even more than the kicks had. Dad wasn't there at the moment, having gone to work at the diner the same as every other Sunday. The fact that his only son had turned into a mutant wasn't a good enough reason for him to stay home from work. As Mom turned her back on me, I desperately wondered what Dad would have done if he'd been here. Would he have defended me from these MCO guys, or would he have let them take me the same way Mom had? Since I knew that he felt the same way about mutants that she did, he'd probably been part of the decision to call them in the first place. "Thanks for helping us get this dangerous mutant off the streets before he can hurt anyone," one of the MCO agents told Mom as they hauled me out the door. "We'll make sure to take good care of him." "Come on kid," one of the other men told me in a mocking tone. "We're gonna take you to a nice comfy resort..." All three of the men laughed at that. Just then another apartment door opened and Mister Harris stepped out into the hallway, scowling and looking pissed. He was a grumpy guy who never seemed to like anyone else, but he was a neighbor whom I'd known for more than a year. As soon as I saw him, I felt a pressure in my head, similar to the one I felt right before my headaches started, though this time it was different...more mild. This also suddenly made me realize just how often my headaches started when going to or from the apartment, and while I was walking down this very hallway. "What the hell is going on out here?" Mr. Harris demanded angrily. "You're making a damn racket..." "We're dealing with a threat to public safety," one of the men told Mr. Harris. "Everything is fine now..." However instead of looking relieved, Mr. Harris stared at them with a sudden look of fear on his face. "MCO," he gasped, his expression turning into one of near panic as he yelled, "Fucking bastards..." With that my neighbor's eyes began to glow and a ball of fire appeared in his hands. "He's a mutant," one of the MCO agents exclaimed, opening fire and shooting Mr. Harris. However it was immediately obvious that he wasn't using a taser this time since Mr. Harris was thrown back with big bloody holes all through him. The ball of fire vanished from his hand and he lay on the hallway floor, no longer moving. "Two mutants in the same place," the MCO agent who'd talked to Mom said, sounding grim. "Who knows how many more there are hiding here. We'll have to let headquarters know to keep an eye on this place...just in case." I was shocked to discover that Mr. Harris was a mutant, or at least to have found out like this. At the same time, I was horrified at the way he'd just been gunned down in front of me, and I couldn't help but feeling guilty. The MCO was here because of me, so if I hadn't started manifesting as a mutant, Mr. Harris never would have been killed. If I hadn't already been crying before, this would have been enough to make me do so. A couple minutes late, the MCO agents took me out to the parking lot and threw me into the back of an armored truck. I was able to move again, at least enough to wiggle my fingers and toes, but not much else. However I was recovering quickly, not that it would do me much good. They actually put metal shackles on my wrists, ankles, and waist, then chained me to the sides and floor of the armored truck. Even after everything they'd done to me, I was shocked to be given such treatment, as though I was some dangerous serial killer or super villain. Once I was secured, the MCO agent who'd shot Mr. Harris stood in front of me with a satisfied look on his face. "It was one of your kind who killed my sister," he told me in an almost casual tone. "At least you're one mutant who will never have the chance to hurt innocent humans." Then he punched me twice, once in my face and once in my stomach. I grunted in pain and doubled over while my kidnapper stepped out of the armored car and closed the metal door behind him. A pair of small lights on the ceiling kept me from being left in the dark. It didn't take long before the armored care began to move, and I knew that it wasn't traveling alone. Before they'd shoved me in the back, I'd seen a car that had been parked beside it, one that had MCO markings on the door, the same as what had been painted on the side of the armored car. Physically I was extremely uncomfortable, hurting from the punches and kicks and feeling chafed from the manacles that bound me. But as much as my body hurt, that was absolutely nothing compared to how I felt inside. I sobbed like a baby, remembering the look on Mom's face as they took me away. "Why?" I pleaded aloud. "What did I do wrong?" It wasn't my fault that I was a mutant...that my body was changing like this. It scared the hell out of me, but instead of helping me when I needed them most, my parents had turned me over to these thugs. I didn't know what the MCO intended for me, but I was certain that it wasn't anything good. There were no windows in the back of the truck and I had nothing to help me tell where I was going or exactly how long I'd been chained up back there. My body didn't really hurt anymore, though I did grow even more uncomfortable as I desperately wanted to stretch out and move. I cried for the first half hour or so, then my tears seemed to run out and I just sat there feeling numb and hopeless. I was in shock, hardly able to believe what was happening to me, and I kept thinking that any minute I'd wake up screaming, only to discover this had all been a bad dream. Unfortunately I knew full well that wasn't going to happen. I'd been in the back of the truck for what I'd guessed was between two to three hours when there was suddenly a massive jarring sensation. I couldn't see what was going on, but it was obvious that something had hit the truck. Seconds later, it came to a sudden stop and I would have been thrown around if I hadn't been chained in place. Since I had no other choice, I remained where I was, burning with curiosity about what was going on. Then after several minutes, the door opened and a familiar figure stood there. "Hey kid," Pinball greeted me with a smile. "Are you ready to get out of here?" I stared at her in surprise and a little confusion before nodding enthusiastically. Pinball stared at me for a moment with an odd look before coming into the truck and unlocking my shackles. She must have gotten the key from the MCO agents, but I couldn't imagine that they'd give it up easily. "Come on," Pinball told me, helping me up and out of the truck. Once I was out of the truck, I noticed the MCO car a short distance away, sitting upside down with the side smashed in. It looked like they'd taken a direct hit from Pinball, and I really wished I could have seen that. "Stand and deliver," a man exclaimed. I snapped around in fear, only to see someone who was obviously not one of the MCO agents. He was wearing some kind of really old fashioned white trenchcoat with a high collar that obscured the lower half of his face, and he wore a white tricorner hat which helped to hide the rest of his features. In each hand he held what looked like some kind of ray gun. The man in white was so distracting that it took me a moment to realize that one of the MCO agents was on his knees in front of him, obviously having been taken captive. Another MCO agent was on the ground a short distance away, barely moving at all. "Thank you for your assistance, Highwayman," Pinball told the man in white. "I knew this kind of thing was right up your alley." "It is always my pleasure to assist a beautiful woman," Highwayman responded, removing his hat and giving a bow. "I'm sure the money I'm paying you doesn't hurt either," Pinball said wryly. "Money does provide a certain motivation," Highwayman agreed. "But I would almost have helped you against these MCO dogs for free." Pinball chuckled at that and pointed out, "Almost." Highwayman turned his attention to me, staring at me for a moment before saying, "Rescues are not within my normal repertoire, but I am happy to have made an exception for today." "Um...thank you," I told him. "And thank you," I said to Pinball, feeling a strange mixture of relief, nervousness, and confusion. After all, she was a super villain and she'd just rescued me from the people I'd always thought of as the 'good guys'. "Until next we meet," Highwayman told Pinball, giving her another bow and adding, "And if you should ever need my services again..." "I know where to send the payment," she responded. With that Highwayman climbed onto a strange looking motorcycle that was painted all white. It was one of those crotch rocket types of bikes, at least in basic design, but it didn't look like any bike I'd ever seen before. For one thing, it looked extremely high tech. But before I could get more than a quick look at the bike, Highwayman rode off. "Now let's get out of here," Pinball announced. Suddenly there was a loud gunshot, followed instantly by massive pain in my shoulder. I let out a loud scream and dropped to my knees, grabbing my shoulder which hurt like hell and was sticky with blood. Then I saw the source of my pain, an MCO agent who'd climbed out of the upturned car, though he was still on the ground with a handgun pointed straight at me. He was the same one who'd killed Mr. Harris...and who'd hit again once I was chained up inside the armored car. "I won't let you get away," the MCO agent exclaimed with a look of grim determination. "No," I cried out, clenching my eyes shut and bracing for the shots that were sure to come. I heard two more gunshots, but didn't feel any of them hitting me. I hesitantly opened my eyes and gasped in surprise. "What the...?" There was a golden colored haze surrounding me in every direction, though a moment later, I realized that it was a force field bubble exactly like the one Pinball had used to get us away from the bank. There was one major difference, that one had been completely transparent and a little shimmery, looking like a soap bubble. The one surrounding me now was transparent, but definitely had a golden color. A moment later, the bubble vanished. "Asshole," Pinball exclaimed, holding the MCO agent up with one hand and glaring at him furiously. "And you people call me a villain." And with that she tossed him into the back of the armored truck, hard enough that he was going to have some good bruises and possibly even a broken bone or two. Then she locked the door on him and spat out, "MCO..." I held onto my bloody and aching shoulder, feeling weak and dizzy as I stood back up again. "Thank you for saving me again," I told Pinball. "That one wasn't me, kid," she responded, staring at me with a look of surprise. I stared back at her for a moment, feeling confused and wondering what she meant. Then I collapsed to the ground and everything went dark. -------------------- When I woke up, I was lying in bed, though it obviously wasn't a hospital bed, just as I was clearly not in a hospital room. The room was only a little bigger than my bedroom and there was a dresser in the corner, but no other furniture or decorations. It struck me that this looked like a guest bedroom. I slowly sat up in bed, feeling confused and worried. The twinge of discomfort from my shoulder reminded me that I'd been shot, right after being rescued by a super villain. If it hadn't been for the pain in my shoulder, I might have thought it had all been a nightmare. After a moment, I hesitantly reached up to my shoulder, which had a bandage on it, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as I would have expected. Instead of a sharp pain, it was more of a dull ache, and not even a really bad one. I tossed the rest of the covers aside and saw that I was wearing my underwear and nothing else. Of course, a doctor would have had to take off my shirt to look at my wound, and my pants might just have gotten blood on them. Or maybe it was just more convenient to remove them before putting me in bed. "Where am I?" I muttered, absently brushing my hair back out of my face. Then I paused in surprise, realizing that my hair had grown even longer. After a minute, I slowly climbed out of bed, feeling extremely odd. Something was definitely off with my body, even more than before the MCO had taken me. I looked around for my clothes so I could get dressed, and though I didn't see any sign of them, I did see a bathroom that was attached to the room. Since I definitely needed to empty my bladder, I decided that this should be my first priority. I staggered into the bathroom and went to take a piss, but when I pulled down my underwear I was caught my surprise. Little David, which I'd always thought of as being a little bigger than average, though that may have just been hopeful thinking, was noticeably smaller than normal. In fact, it was only half as big as it normally was. "What the hell?" I blurted out in shock. Was this part of the way my body had already been changing, or was this something else? Having my eyes and hair change color was one thing, but this was going too far. There was no way in hell I was going to accept this. If the guys in the school locker room saw me like this, I'd be stuck with the humiliating nickname of Tiny Dick. In spite of my equipment somehow having been shrunk in the wash, I still finished taking my piss. It was then that I began looking over the rest of my body to see if anything else had changed. Unfortunately it was clear that my body had indeed changed more while I was out of it, though it was difficult to put my finger on anything specific. It was just that my skin somehow seemed softer and smoother, and my body shape just seemed...off. "This isn't good," I whispered, my voice shaking and sounding a little odd to my ears. I poked my chest, which was not only softer than normal, but somewhat puffy as well. Was I putting on weight? I didn't seem quite as skinny as normal, though I certainly didn't look like I was getting fat either, at least not anywhere else. After I'd finished looking myself over, I turned to wash my hands in the sink and then paused to gasp again. When I'd been looking over my body for changes, I hadn't thought to check my face. The face that stared back from the mirror was my face, but at the same time, it wasn't. My eyes were still the same golden color as they'd been before the MCO took me, but other details just seemed a little off. My ears no longer seemed too large and my nose appeared to have become a little smaller as well. In fact, most of my face just didn't seem quite right, though I had a hard time pointing any other specifics. I'd already known that my hair had changed color and had grown longer, so I wasn't surprised to see that my hair was now shoulder length and had turned almost entirely red. It wasn't bright red like a fire engine or the orange color hair that a lot of people called red, but it was a deeper and richer red...almost the exact same color that Pinball had. The only exception was that I had a single lock of hair in the front that remained blonde, but even that had changed color. Instead of my normal dull blonde, that lock of hair had become a golden blond. "No way is that me," I whispered. With my hair like that it almost looked like a girl was staring back at me from the mirror. In fact, it looked a lot like a girl was staring back at me, one who could have almost been cute. I turned away from the mirror, feeling angry, scared and confused. I reminded myself that as weird as this was, I still had bigger problems. When I remembered the way my Mom had turned me over to the MCO, I even began crying again. "I can't go back," I whispered in realization. How could I possibly go home after my Mom had done that? I'd actually escaped from the MCO, and I had no doubt that they'd want me back. Pinball and Highwayman might have been the ones who actually broke me out, but my escape would have to be an embarrassment to them nonetheless. "Oh shit. I am so screwed..." After I left the bathroom, I found my pants and sitting on the floor next to the foot of the bed, but there was no sign of my shirt. I wasn't surprised at that since it must have been pretty messy with all the blood. I shuddered at that suddenly wondering why my shoulder didn't hurt more. When I put my pants on, I was a little surprised to find that they didn't fit quite right. They'd been a perfect fit before, but now they felt too loose in my crotch and too tight in other places. My shoes were about the same, pinching my feet as though they'd suddenly shrunk a size. A minute later, the door opened and a woman stepped inside. She was tall, athletic, and stacked...having a totally killer body. And though Pinball was wearing jeans and a T-shirt instead of her costume, there was absolutely no mistaking who this was...mask or no mask. "How are you feeling, kid?" she asked me carefully. "I have a name," I protested in annoyance. "Okay...David," she responded with an amused look. "Now, how are you feeling?" "Weird," I admitted, feeling self-conscious about how my body was changing. "And a little sore..." I touched my shoulder. Pinball nodded at that, then said, "I'd expect no less, considering the circumstances." She stared at me for a moment with an odd expression, probably because of how much I'd been changing in such a short time. Then she came over and said, "Let me check your wound..." After Pinball removed the bandages, I stared at my shoulder and was surprised to see that there wasn't a hole where I'd been shot, only a scar. I gasped and felt it, finding that it was a bit tender but otherwise healed. "How...?" I started in surprise, then looked at Pinball. "Did you do this...?" "No," she answered with a faint smile. "You did. I was taking you to get some medical attention when I realized your wound was healing on its own. Congratulations, it looks like you're a regenerator." "A regenerator?" I asked blankly. "It means you regenerate from injuries," she explained patiently. "You heal extremely fast. Regeneration is one of my powers too and it saved my life more times than I can count." "No way," I exclaimed, feeling my shoulder again and suddenly thinking that maybe being a mutant wasn't all bad. "At the rate you're healing," Pinball continued, "in a few more hours, you won't even have a scar." Then she reached out and hesitantly touched my hair. "And from the way you're changing, I'd guess you're probably an exemplar as well." I gave her another blank look and asked, "Okay, and what does that mean?" Pinball let out a sigh and gave me a sympathetic look. Then she smiled again, though it seemed just a little forced. I wasn't sure I liked the look of that. "Being an exemplar is a fairly common mutant ability," Pinball explained patiently. "It means y