[center][img]http://x.annihil.us/u/prod/marvel/i/mg/2/80/4be8aef9df02c.jpg[/img]
[sub]Hex presents
[b]Cyclops[/b][/sub][/center]

[h3]B E A R T O O T H,  A L A S K A[/h3]

He could still remember a different world, a world that was filled with color and excitement: the trees were green, the sky was blue and cotton candy was [i]pink[/i] of all things. Now? Now Scott only saw the world in shades of red. Red the color of the angry faces that protested his and mutant kind's very existence, red the color of the post-it that he had left on Jean's door, red the color of the sweater that the Professor had bought him that first Christmas they had spent together, red the color of Warren's body distorted and morphed bones jutting outwards at odd angles from the corpse. He hated red. He wished that he could never see it again, he wanted to see the sky again, he wanted to see the grass, he wanted everything to go back to the way it was. It was never that easy of course.

He looked down at the half filled pint of beer on the wooden table in front of him. It tasted like a mixture of gasoline, piss and a sprinkling of regret; it was Scott's fifth drink that evening. He had wandered into the small town of Beartooth earlier that morning, one of many rural dives that had squatted in during his 'sabbatical' northwards. Life had taken a sort of cyclical nature to it as he would wander the wilderness for a while alone before coming into town to drink himself into a stupor for a week before the locals eventually ran him off again. He laughed to think of what any of those back home would think of him now, the first X-man, the leader of mutant kind, the goddamn hero nothing more than a wandering vagabond, a minor nuisance to the truckers, miners and lumber workers that populated the small backwater towns of Alaska.

At least the place he picked to drown away his memories wasn't the [i]worst[/i] he had been it. It was a harmonious cross between rundown dive bar and trucker pit stop. A squat wood exterior lay off to one side of the lone pothole strawed road that lead into town almost as if some force above had dropped it while cleaning and had forgotten to pick it up. The road emptied onto a rough 'parking area' made of hastily deposited gravel and inter dispersed weeds which currently housed two large oil tankers heading southwards. Two dirty rectangular windows completed the picture and amidst half faded neon signs that advertised beer of many shades and sizes was one word frosted into the glass. Ed's. The interior of matched the picture that the outside had caste just as well. It was a one room deal in the shape of a slightly lopsided rectangle and the air smelled of cigarette smoke, cooking meat and vomit in equal measures. An old man with graying muttonchops worked the bar and a younger women maybe two or so years younger than Scott was tending to the few customers that populated the establishment. To complete the overall ambience of rustic misery was a half broken jukebox sputtering broken verses of country songs into the void filling the void usually occupied by busy patrons.

[color=aba000]"And do you need anything else dearie?"[/color] The waitress asked as she came back around during her rounds to check back up on Scott sitting at his table in the corner. Her raven colored hair, waist length swished behind her and her long eyelashes fluttered in front of cerulean blue eyes. Scott almost immediately deiced based on appearances alone that words like dearie certainty didn't fit the girl. Scott raised a hand towards her shaking his head.

[color=red]"I'm just fine miss. Everything is just perfect."[/color]

[color=aba000]"Well alright then, but just between me and you."[/color] She explained to him leaning in as she whispered in his ear. [color=aba000]"A pretty boy like yourself shouldn't be moping all in his lonesome."[/color] She explained with a wink as she pretend to adjust a piece of the untouched utensils on the table before she walked away, body swaying as she went.

Scott watched her leave but did nothing else except take another sip from his glass. As the pisswater raced down his throat he heard it. The sound was of car's pulling off of the highway and onto the gravel outside, Judging from the sound on the gravel they were SUVs and judging from the noises the engines made they were souped up something special. In short it was the noise of trouble. Scott pushed his chair seemingly further back into the corner of the establishment nonchalantly in motion but still putting him further out of mind and eye set as he took another sip from his pint as he watched the door. The sound of heavy footsteps crunching against loose stone and voices talking among themselves, low thuds as they ascended the stairs. Moments later the door was kicked open.

The trouble came in the form of five sharply dressed men wearing close fitting jeans, and expensive looking designer brand fleeces and outerwear that clung to their muscular frames. The leader of the back was a smallish sized man with darker skin, slick back black hair and a carnivorous smile on his face. He turned about the bar like a predator looking for his next meal, eyes anxious and ready. His eyes fell upon his target, the girl and the bartender standing behind the bar shaking but holding firm. His carnivorous smile only grew as he stepped further in and announced with a grandstand like presence.

[color=cyan]"Yooo Eddy I'm here to collect what we are duee"[/color] He spoke in a singsong voice as he cleared the distance between the door and the bar quickly, snarling at the few patrons that he passed by.

[color=39b54a]"Listen Ray, you know business has been slow this month but I promise I will pay it all back next time..."[/color]

[color=cyan]"Oooh that's not good Eddy, that is not good at all. Boss doesn't like it when his clientele is late."[/color]

[color=39b54a]"I know, I know but--"[/color] Eddy was cut off as Ray slammed a fist hard into the table.

[color=cyan]"No buts Eddy. Guess we will just have to take something else this time. Last time it was the cook's life? This time? Well the boss man been looking for another plaything and your pretty little daughter will do just fine. Of course after my boys have fun with her. He don’t mind use merchandise you see."[/color] Ray explained his voice slick as oil as he gestured to the pair trying to back away from them, fear in their eyes. Two of Ray's thugs leaped over the bar one of them tried to pull Eddy's daughter away from him but he clung onto the raven haired girl tight, at least until the other thug bashed him over the hand with a lead pipe he pulled tucked into his wasteland. Eddy crumbled, the daughter screamed and Ray with a hyena like glee. Scott finished his drink and gently placed it onto the table before he stood up.

Jean had always said that he had a habit of finding trouble. Guess she was right... again.

[color=red]"Men's winter apparel section. I think the lady you are currently holding would very much appreciate it if you let her go."[/color] Scott announced his voice carry the weight of unseen authority  behind it as he stood watching the thugs, arms casually crossed. Ray and his thugs turned around to look at the man talking to them. In all honestly he wasn't the most imposing figure in the world at the moment. His clothes looked beaten in and ragged, his hair was growing uncharacteristically shaggy and well muscle still clung to his body it was much less than it once was. That combined with a pair of stylish if a bit out of place ruby-quartz shades and you had a man that looked very out of place.

[color=cyan]"Yeah? And who's going to make us you pretty boy."[/color] Ray explained reaching into his pocket and producing a small combat knife, the blade shimmering in the dim light of the bar.

[color=red]"No you are going to let her go nice and easy now. If you don't I'm going to have to hurt you. Last warning"[/color]

[color=cyan]"I think your bad at math son. I see five of us and one stupid sun glass wearing idiot about to get his shit kicked in. Charge!"[/color] Ray yelled and he and his thugs rushed Scott planning to use superior numbers to bring him down.

[color=red]"Alright then. We do this your way."[/color] Scott announced as he dropped into a defensive stance letting the thugs close the distance. Ray the one with the knife got there first and he struck outwards with a surprising amount of skill and speed, much more than Scott would've given for a common thug, no this man had training. A normal man may have been at the mercy of the blade, but Scott Summers was not a normal man, no he was far from it. As the blade came in to strike home, Scott shifted to the left pushing the blade past him and with it Ray sending him stumbling straight into one of the bar tables behind them. Two more thugs charged next, as they closed in Scott reacted left foot racing upwards in a furious arc coming hard upon the side of thug's one neck sending him smashing into the floor. He was already dropping downwards as the other threw his punch missing Scott's head by inches as the mutant rammed his elbow into the man's solar plexus. As he dropped Scott grabbed him by the head and slammed him into a nearby support column not hard enough to cause any real damage but enough to give him one hell of a broken nose. You didn't kill those were the rules even for slime like these. The last two came at him one still holding the lead pipe and just like the others they too soon quickly fell leaving a pile of bodies strewn across the floor, Scott wasn't even breathing that heavy.

[color=cyan]"You don't know who you just fucked with!"[/color] Ray yelled at Scott in a mumble of broken teeth produced in the aftermath of smashing head first into a table. He and his boys quickly hightailed it out of the bar and Scott stood their arms crossed watching as they went.

[color=aba000]"He's right you know. You just made a mistake."[/color] The waitress explained as she helped her father up from the ground blood streaming from the open wound on his head.

[color=red]"What do you mean?"[/color] Scott responded eyebrow raised curious at the grave tone in the girl's voice.

[color=aba000]"Ray and his boys are mercs hired by the one they call the Black King. He runs these parts including the big old mine outside of town and you just angered one of his favorite lieutenants."[/color]

[color=red]"Well if he fights anything like his boys then he won't trouble for me, don't you worry."[/color]

[color=aba000]"You don't get it. Your fancy fighting skills won't help you here. The Black King isn't like you or me. He's one of those mutant freaks.."[/color] The girl explained calling out to Scott who was already halfway to the door by this point. At the mention of the m-word though he stopped dead in his tracks and turned around walking back up to the bar. Once he was there he produced a small sum of cash onto the bar top and peered intently at the girl who was a little taken aback at the sudden forcefulness that the cool and relaxed man was showing.

[color=red]"Here this will pay for the damages and then some. Now tell me all you know about this Black King..."[/color]