That Sounded Much Cooler in My Head

Summary Elizabeth Brooks' favorite color is green,he is green,surly they're meant to be.Too bad he's an insecure,unstable madman of a mutant who wants to end humanity and she's a human with an attitude problem.

Warnings: This story is going to contain coarse language, gore, violence, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, and maybe sexually explicit content some day.

Memo: advise: Don't knock a story until you get to chapter three, and that's any story.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of X-Men, just my originals and this story.

Exalted Fans: None yet

Chapter One: Curse You Alfred Hitchcock

Elizabeth Brooks scowled at her phone. Because of it and it's lack of ringing, she was sitting at home on a Saturday nibbling on some possibly toxic two week old cheese pizza and coloring her nails with a green sharpie which would probably stain them. It was Saturday. Saturday. What self-respecting college student has nothing to do on a Saturday afternoon?

Well… her obviously.

'There has to be something to do…' she thought, finishing coloring her last uncolored toe and glancing around the room. Dirty clothes scattered across the floor, a black bra draped over the lamp by the window, (she made a mental note to move that sometime) a leaking beanbag chair, a computer that was probably older than she was, and a ferret cage that looked more like some rainbow space center that was absent of a ferret as it's occupant had died some two months ago.

Nope, nothing came to mind.

No wait, something did come to mind. Alfred Hitchcock looked over at her from over her typewriter which was surrounded by unfinished scripts for various types of movies and plays.

She should see a movie. Yeah, a movie sounded good.

She stood up and went to the mirror. Well, she didn't look like total crap at the moment; the deep brown of her grown out hair against the blaringly bright green streaks of her last dye job, making her look very much like some sort of forest nymph although her figure was a bit too…full to fit any sort of faery profile, thin-rimmed glasses, a worn out black sweatshirt with a band logo that was faded beyond recognition, ripped up jeans, and black flip flops. She put her hair up in a messy bun and secured it with two black pens, and sighed, at least the street urchin look seemed to worked for her.

She was pressed enough for cash that she walked the full twelve blocks to the theater and forced herself reluctantly past the snack counter straight to the theater where Dawn of the Dead was playing as part of the Zombie double feature. Land of the Dead had already played.

Mortimer Toynbee-better known as Toad-had had a similar idea, bored and lacking absolutely anything else to do. He didn't feel too up for confrontation when back at the base Sabertooth was pmsing, Magneto was riding his ass over failing a few lousy missions, and Mystique was giving him the cold shoulder. When your safe haven became as miserable as the outside it was unsettling.

Normally he would have just caused a little pandemonium or hauled up in his room with some unfinished project or another… or a 'Playboy'; but he wasn't up to the first task, and Sabertooth's blighted disregard for another persons well deserved privacy voided the latter option.

Theaters were dark and all too easy to sneak into, and no one would pay much attention to him unless he decided to command it, and that was unlikely… at the moment.

He slipped in the arcade room backdoor, then just waltzed into the nearest theater that didn't have some stupid kid's movie or chick flick playing. That happened to be the theater playing 'Pirates of the Caribbean'.

Elizabeth thought the movie was pretty good, but to the original, there was no comparison. Too bad all too many movies were like that these days. She sighed, grabbing her messenger bag and heading out of the theater.

Halfway down the hall, she managed one of those missteps only a total clutz could and stepped on her own sandal just as she went to take another step, effectively snapping her sandal and sending her crashing into the legs of the person in front of her. Well, in short, their legs buckled from the unexpected hit to the back of the knees, and their ass landed hard on her shoulders, pinning her to the ground.

'Way to go stupid, you tripped over your own damn feet.'

So here she was, someone's ass was crushing her shoulder blades, and the back of her head was in their crotch. It was such a lovely position to be in. Judging by the feet, she figured it was a guy. Wow, that just made the situation that much better.

Why did life hate her so?

"Wot the hell do you think your doin'?" he snarled.

Oh how lovely, he was British.

"Erm… walking?" she ventured.

The guy hefted himself off of her, and she quickly got to her feet.

"Where I come from, that don't constitute walkin'."

"Sorry," Elizabeth mumbled apologetically. She looked over at him, but he was already beating a pretty hasty retreat. Well hell, his hood was up anyway, it wasn't like she would have been able to see him anyway. She reached over to where her bag had fallen only to see that it was gone. Her head snapped back to where the brit had last been and saw her bag in his hand. "That limey asshole stole my bag!"

She hastily started to scramble after him, throwing curses in all directions, but lost him in about five seconds.

"Son of a bitch, your lucky my wallet wasn't in there." Her hand went to her wallet chain and found it snapped with the wallet in question gone. "Your kidding me! That bastard got my wallet too?! Curse you Alfred Hitchcock! I blame you for this!"

Well, that's it for this chapter, don't be afraid to review! The more reviews the faster I crank out chapters!