My room has a weird device standing on, well, a stand, facing my bed. It's decently wide and tall but there is almost no depth to it. It's black, deep black, and I do not know how to make it work. I have heard the wizards call it a "television", or Tee-Vee.
I'm not going to ask them, though. Not today. It cannot be that hard to turn on.
There are a few other devices in the drawers of the stand, and some of them look like controls, with buttons and all. I grab every single one of them and let them fall on my bed, to then organize them in order of size. This shall be fun.
I take the smallest one, and start pressing all the buttons, hoping for the best. It doesn't work. I try the same with the next control.
The third one turns something on - it is not the television, but whatever it turned on, it made a beeping noise and proceeded to sound like blowing. What is it? I look around the room, and the big white box hanging in one of the wall's upper corners looks different. A light turned on and the bottom unfolded. I walk over to it and place my hand under it, and I get pleasantly surprised. Cold. It's blowing out cold air.
I will not need it, but I like it. Using the last button I pressed, I turn it off.
The fifth one turns the television on. Oh! I flinch, it makes noise. And it is loud. Using the same device, I look for a way to lower the volume of the television.
The man on the screen laughs, and so does his audience. Then, three other people are shown, all of them with their own podium. They have a number in front of them. The man points at his own television,
"Okay then, Leti," he says, "Time for two hundred."
Under the column "time", the cell with a big number written is zoomed into. Suddenly, my television's screen is taken over by a white text over blue background, as the man reads what it says,
HOW MANY SECONDS ARE THERE IN A DAY?
Oh, if it's in midgardian time, it's 86,400 seconds. That's easy.
Another man quickly presses a button and his podium lights up. He doesn't stop to think, "What is eighty-seven-thousand and four-hundred seconds?"
The light on his podium turns red and the Tee-Vee buzzes. Come on, sir, even I know the correct answer. Instead, Leti answers correctly, and the number on her podium changes. I can see how the game goes.
Leti chooses again, this time "religion" for six hundred,
NORSE CELEBRATION THAT INFLUENCED CHRISTMAS.
Norse? I should know that. But what is Christmas? Leti, again, presses the button. "What is Yule?" Yule! Of course.
I sit on the border of the bed. Before the questions can continue, however, the program is suddenly interrupted by another, way more serious one.
BREAKING NEWS: NATIONAL CITY BANK OF NEW YORK TAKEN HOSTAGE.
The woman on the screen, sitting down, starts rambling about the status of the mentioned bank, as a video of the situation plays next to her. The bank is a big, old rocky building, surrounded by cars with obnoxious red and blue lights. A crowd has formed surrounding the vehicles. Some men are standing a few metres from the door, visibly stressed.
Then, a subtitle is added, and the woman proceeds to explain it; "We just received information of the X-Men being on their way to the bank. As we can see on the video, three of them have arrived. Quicksilver, Nightcrawler, and Archangel. "
In the video, I can see Maximoff running around. He must be analyzing the situation. Kurt is speaking to the stressed men. But, honestly, my attention is barely on them.
Standing on the roof of the neighbouring building, an angel looks down on it. I know they are an angel for they have big white wings and they flap and announce their presence. I stand up, walking over to the Tee-Vee, watching them. They must be the "Archangel" the woman mentioned. Of course they are. Do the X-Men actually work with a real angel? I must find out.
Careful not to make a sound, I leave my room. It's late. I don't think the wizards will be leaving their bedrooms any soon. I sneak up to the Sanctum's door, and open it, finding the dark and empty Bleecker street.
How can I find the bank?
A man is quietly walking down the street. He is not afraid of being alone. I sprint over to him, and catch his attention. —Excuse me, sir, do you know where the National City Bank of New York is? —
I enter his mind right on time to see him think of it. I analize the location the best I can. —Well, yeah, but if I was you I'd take a taxi, ma'am. —
Oh, I don't need it. To get to it I could manifest wings. We, higher demons, do have wings, but they are nothing like an angel's and are, in fact, kind of useless. They would also catch a lot of attention. Instead, I could shapeshift into a bird and still fly to the bank.
I start leaving, but the man shyly clears his throat. —Wait, ma'am, —I turn to look at him, —You got any spare change? I haven't eaten since this morning. —
Money, he means. Dollars. I think of the dollar bills Strange has shown me and, with a discreet gesture, conjure the biggest one in my hand. A hundred, I think. It's enough, isn't it? Midgardian money is weird, anyways.
—Here, —I hand it to him, and he bows as a thank you. I imitate him. —Have a good night. —
As I jog away, I hear him gasp, and turn my head around to find him looking at the bill in disbelief. Huh. I think a hundred was a lot. I guess I will ruin the american economy, like Strange said. With a smirk, I shapeshift into a bird, well aware of the man's stare on me, and fly away.
Nobody is going to believe him.
The bank. It's not far. Even in the slight darkness I can use the buildings as a reference. But I will not need to; from afar, I see a flying vehicle start to land on the top of a very illuminated building. Thanks to the lighting, I can recognise it. It is the bank.
Getting closer, I can see the rest of the X-Men leaving the vehicle. And, still on their spot in the neighbouring building, the angel makes sure they are safe.
I land on the same building, behind the angel, and turn back into myself. Their wings look way bigger from here, and more detailed, as I can see a few feathers missing.
They don't notice me. —Hi! —I say,
The angel immediately turns around, ready to attack me, but I quickly keep them still with telekinesis. They frown at me. I raise my hands, —I'm not here to hurt you. I'm friends with the X-Men. —
As they relax, I loosen my grip on them, and walk over to the border with their eyes on me. From here you can perfectly see the X-Men start to enter the bank. —I didn't know the X-Men had an angel. —
They scoff, —I'm not an angel. —
Oh. —Oh. Really? —I look at them, —You do look quite ethereal, at least compared to the imagery I have seen. And there is no demonic energy coming from you. —they frown at me, and I frown at them. —Is it just a mutation? —
They nod. —Yeah. Actual angels aren't real. —they state as a fact,
—Well, you're kind of wrong. —I look back at the building. The X-Men are not on the roof anymore. A random man is thrown out a window, and before he touches the ground, Maximoff catches him and takes him inside again. —Are you a male, then? Angels don't have gender. —
—Yeah, I am. —he says. —Are you actually friends with them? I hadn't heard about any girl like you. —
—We are working on a case together, or something. —
He nods again, —Vatican? —
I hum. —Correct. —through some windows, I can see the guys. —Wait, Jubilee is not here... —and she was not at the exorcism either.
—She isn't part of the team. —
Humans start running through the bank's door. Probably the victims. —Why was she at the Vatican, then? —
He shrugs. —She was replacing me. And she likes tourism. —
—Why weren't you at the Vatican? —
Looking at the X-Men do their thing, he takes some time to answer. —My wings aren't discreet, but you might've noticed that. —subconsciously, his wings retract and get closer to his body.
—Understandable. Humans are famous for hating what is not normal. —I look down at the crowd surrounding the bank. They are all cheering for the X-Men, somehow. —Your wings are beautiful, though. —I turn my body to him, —Do you want to see mine? —
My excitement confuses him, or maybe the fact that I can have wings. I don't wait for him to answer, and with a simple shoulder movement I make them appear. They are way smaller than his (of course they are, he is bigger and taller than me), and they are black, with fewer feathers.
—They are more like a decoration, though. I can't fly anywhere with them. —with another shoulder movement, they are gone.
He keeps looking at where the wings were. —That's... Cool. —
From the roof of the other building, someone shouts. —Warren! —it's Scott. —Warren! Where are you?! —the angel, Warren, I suppose, calls out his attention. I wave at him. —Oh, hey again. —he waves back.
Warren extends his wings and flies to the other roof. It's a short distance, but it looked amazing. I follow by creating some magical tangible bits I can step on.
—Hey, why are you here? —McCoy asks, —Is this about the demons? —
I shake my head, —No, not really. I was bored and saw you on the television. —
Warren frowns. —Demons? —
—Oh, yeah, she's a demon. And not the only one on Earth, apparently. —Ororo mutters, and I wink at Warren, —Is the archangel afraid of demons? —she teases, but he just rolls his eyes with a tiny smile.
Only four of them are here. —Where are the others? —
—Journalists. —answers McCoy, —They're down there talking with them. You know, only the fan favourites who actually know how to talk to the press. —
I look down again. Maximoff and Jean are doing things with the crowd, whether it is signing objects, taking pictures, or just handshakes. Raven is speaking to the people from the news, and next to her is Kurt and another man in a wheelchair. He must be their boss. After two or three minutes he nods to the journalists and the group grabs each other, and suddenly, they get teleported to the roof with a blue mist.
Jean notices me immediately. —Hey, Star. —she walks up to me and shakes my hand as a salutation. Raven nods at me from afar.
The man in the wheelchair follows her, looking at me with interest. —So, you're Star. I'm Professor Charles Xavier. —we shake hands, —I'm what you would call their boss. It's good that we're working together - I'm yet to meet your friends and the agents. Is there a problem now, though? Something that brought you here? —
—Yes, boredom. I'm just passing by. —
—Ah, good. —he smiles. —If you don't mind, we must leave now. But don't be afraid to visit our next missions, and, maybe, help us out, if you're that bored. —
The team starts going back into the vehicle. McCoy scoffs, —I don't think she'll join the team, Charles. —
He shrugs. —I never mentioned that. —he winks at me, and starts wheeling away with McCoy, —See you, Star. —
The vehicle's door closes, and it turns on, causing some strong winds. Without a second thought, I shapeshift and start flying away, following the path that took me here.
A good thing about the Sanctum Sanctorum is that it's a very recogniseable building. The big window on the front can be seen from realms away, and seeing it from the air in the middle of the night makes no difference.
I step down and open the door, again, trying to make no noise, and sneak my way upstairs. The building might be old and look like it, but none of the stairs make a sound even though they are made of wood. If they did, I would have been caught ages ago.
The halls are as dark as I left them, but they are not as alone. Before I even open my bedroom's door, his voice resonates through the silent night,
—Where were you? —Strange asks.
I turn around. —I was getting familiar with the area. Wanted to start learning about my surroundings, and, you know, stop getting lost. —I smile.
He knows I wasn't. Anyways, he nods. —I left something in your room. Goodnight. —
When he leaves, I quickly enter my room, and find the television still making noise. On my bed is a book with something else on top of it. I walk to it, and read the note attached, covered with shaky letters; «TOMORROW. AFTER BREAKFAST. LIBRARY. THIS IS CHOCOLATE. YOU'LL LIKE IT.» The thing underneath it is light and a little cold. It must be food. Chocolate.
The book is the black one he took. The book on demons, I suppose. It has no title, no author, and no number. I will read it later. I put it on my bookshelf.
I sit on the bed again, this time further into it, and grab the chocolate, breaking the wrapper. It is a deep brown and is designed in squares. When I bite into it, I find a sweet yet bitter flavour. He was right. I like it.
The program with questions is luckily still there, though with another group of people. Eating the chocolate, and getting comfortable, I increase the volume a little.
Category "science", for two hundred.
HOLDS OUR NEIGHBOURING PLANETS.
—The Yggdrasil? —
"What is the solar system?"
Damn it.