| Two X-Men drabbles
||[May. 25th, 2003|11:02 am]
It’s a hell of an irony, Warren thinks.|
Not just because of the pun inherent in his being on the side of the angels, while looking like one.
But because he could soar, yet only does it to save those who would harm or kill him, were he to use or even show his beautiful wings at any other time.
To be born with such a gift, into a world that would never forgive him for using and enjoying it… it’s like some bitter joke.
If God exists, Warren thinks, He’s got one hell of a twisted sense of humour.
In John’s dreams, he used to be a hero, like in the myths. He always knew they were dreams, because his friends were there with him: Bobby, Marie, everyone, all playing their part.
Sometimes, he was Odysseus, or Achilles, praised by all. Other times, he was Jason, and his friends were Argonauts, and he was going to be a king.
John decided to become a villain the day he finally realized that his dreams would never be real – that he would never be a hero. After all, recognition for the wrong reasons was better than none at all. Wasn’t it?