I took some time to admire the extra finger my hands now sported. Pinkies. Who knew I'd ever be happy to have little fingers at the edge of my hands again. The retractable claws were neat, and absolutely brutal. My fascination with my hands almost made me miss Sabretooth dragging himself away with only one arm and half a leg dangling off his torn up torso.
It was neat to know that if someone can live to the end of our feeding frenzy that we wouldn't just be locked into it trying to out DPS someone whose regen was too high to overcome. Not that Sabretooth was too high to overcome, just got lucky we didn't eat him from the head down.
This wasn't some blood drop rebirth Sabretooth and Wolverine, thank God. It appeared we had entered the world of X-Men: Evolution. Not a perfect copy of the children's TV show as Sabretooth's memories revealed a tone more in line with comic book renditions rather than the goofy goon that played on the Disney Channel.
Fortunately, Magneto has never demonstrated the ability to manipulate bioavailable iron in the body, so we won't have to worry about the asshat just tearing us apart using the iron in our blood. If that was the case I'd have noped the fuck out of here.
Despite everything being a bit more fucked, the tone of the world was far more lighthearted than the typical X-Men romp, who normally serve as a direct allegory for the downtrodden and the ostracized.
For Christ's sake, Sabretooth was trying to get around Professor X's notice me not telepathy via a camcorder video essay a Naruto reject was putting together for his high school extra credit project.
As terrifying the idea of a cannibal regenerator attacking a boarding home full of kids is, the fact that the X-Men were attending Bayville Highschool rather than holding up in the X-Mansion implied a brighter world state than usually portrayed off of the silver screen.
"Lookin like someone gave you a taste of your own medicine, Vic." growled the greatest manlet in comics.
"Get them away from me!" Sabretooth howled, "They're monsters."
"Dude!" I complained, "That's hurtful. It's not our fault you're a one man feast."
I emphasized that by patting my belly full of his regenerator limbs and organs.
"You folks really went to the buffet on ol' Creedy." Wolverine smirked in his orange and black costume, "Couldn't have happened to a more deserving scumbag."
"Agreed." Spat Linda who finished processing the hundred and eighty year plus lifespan of a violent psycho who reveled in bloody massacre.
She pulled a hose out of the trunk of The Good Evening and started spraying her naked body down with high pressure water.
"You people mutants?" He sniffed, "Aliens?" while looking at me.
"Column A, Column B. Put em together and you get me." I joked.
"Huh." the Wolverine hummed, "The boss man just let me know that four new mutants just activated their X-Genes near the mansion."
"Neat." Kat stated as she took the hose from Linda who pulled out a warm and fluffy towel to dry off with.
Both of them looked far more feral than Jack after consuming Sabretooth, and now sported thick hair to the end of their shoulder blades and middle of their glorious breasts. Interdimensional munchies did these girls right.
Jack admired her new claws and spoke to the manlet, "So what does that mean for us?"
"He's on his way here." Logan grunted, "No offense, but I wasn't going to lead a pack of roving cannibals back to a children's boarding house."
"If we didn't show up you'd have had one bust down the front door." I chuckled.
"Yeah, got a video message letting me know he was on his way." Wolverine admitted.
We finished getting washed and dressed in our space faring biker gang outfits Jack makes us wear before Professor Wheels rolled up with Storm kitted out for a fight… or a day on the town. That spandex superhero costume was working for my boner, but would provide jack shit in the way of protection for a woman who regularly engages in deadly combat. And goddamn the woman filling it was boner worthy.
Smooth and round features with a firm athleticism broken up by generous helpings of breast and booty.
We might be in a smutty version of this verse.
Thank you, Jesus.
I had a strange feeling in the back of my soul, something I hadn't felt in years, and a quick zoning out confirmed that I was reconnected with the Skyrim stars. A short rekindling of of the constellations had me grinning like a loon despite the seriousness of the conversation Jack was leading against the crippled cue ball.
I rushed over to the trunk and pulled Jack's guitar out of a nearly indestructible case and let loose a sick solo.
In a flash of light emerged The Good Morning and I hopped on the motorbike and revved up its wailing engine. A few loud revs later and I was so happy to be in a verse where pretty much everything goes. Bullshit science, magic, divinity. Marvel is down to fuck.
"Oh sweet!" Jack shouted and grabbed up the guitar and musically summoned our tank, The Good Nait.
After kicking up a dust storm doing donuts on my bike I pulled out my oversized bass guitar and started a Metal riff.
"Be healed, Bald Dude." I commanded as I shred.
"Don't be silly," scoffed Professor Wheels, "Many people have attempted to cure my paralysis and failed."
"Then why are your toes tapping?" I laughed.
Charles Xavier looked down at his bouncing feet and gaped in awe, then got up out of his wheelchair and started shaking his hips.
"What is happening?" He screamed in awe and joy.
"Fucking Metal, man!" I kept shredding and bathing the audience in the healing goodness of the bass guitar.
"Logan, we are keeping them!" Charles laughed as he danced, "I don't care that they eat people!"