Telepathic cock fight

12 hours later…

Sitting in the hanger bay with the rest of the X-men there looking up at the Black Bird returning to the Institute, Charles frowned as he watched the vehicle slowly land and power down, with the walking ramp descending for its passengers to exit. Hearing laughter from the blackbird’s occupants as they exited the craft, Charles breathed in slowly to keep his anger in check when he found Emma and the rest of her friends she had turned, stepping off the ramp with a creature in tow with a rope around its neck.

“Who would have thought that beef would taste SO much better when its straight from the cow?”

“That farmer didn’t, when we picked his ranch clean.”

“And him along with it.”

“Welcome back Emma, I take it you had a lovely joy ride with my expensive personal airplane?” Asked the professor, his hands folded in his lap while the rest of his X-men stood behind him pensively. And rightly so. The lot of them looked more… Savage than when they left. All of them had stained lips from eating something the professor didn’t recognise, and they all gave their human friends a predatory gleam he did not care for. Standing imperiously in front of them all was Emma Frost, a smug grin on her fanged lips as she tilted her hip and tugged at the leash, she had around the wendigo’s neck. “I see you picked up a stray…”

Looking down at the house broken creature now sitting on all fours at her side, Emma’s grin grew. “Oh, HIM? He wasn’t TOO hard to find, and don’t you worry, he’s as harmless as warm milk… Like my new necklace?” She asked, posing with the string of fanged teeth she had hanging from her neck.

“I do not approve of your latest behaviour Miss Frost, even if you DID manage to capture the wendigo.”

(Missy, you are in a load of shit right now for what you did!) Glared Charles telepathically back at the smug wendigo woman stroking a finger down her new necklace. (Jet fuel isn’t cheap and neither is publicity!)

(Oh please, like I’m not the first one to steal your rides on the premises, what about the time Logan stole one of your motor bikes, or the time he carved the roof off the Cadillac in a fit of rage?)

(Logan has an excuse! He’s an asshole! Plus, those were all Scott’s vehicles. But YOU? I was expecting more from a woman who prided herself as being a representative of high society than to pull the equivalent of Ferris Bueller's day off and go North of the border.) Narrowing his eyes and reading the surface of the wendigo woman’s mind and the minds of the others, it took everything Charles had not to gasp in disgust. (Really? Did we have a taste for Canadian beef while we were away?)

(It’s all true, it tastes like maple.)

(Did Bubba Joe who owned that ranch taste the same? Because you still have a bit of Manitoba stuck in your teeth.)

Picking the teeth in her smile with a clawed fingernail, Emma’s eyes narrowed with her devilish grin. (I will admit, the beast licking my feet doesn’t have a single thought in his head but the DRIVES… Ooooh, THOSE were intoxicating! And the life of a predator has its charms, I’ve even come to like it! A lifestyle I’d like very much to share with the rest of the X-men. Or should I say my new pack of X-wendigos?)

(OVER MY DEAD BODY YOU FUCKING WOOKIE!)

Watching the two telepaths argue mentally with each other, the X-men traded looks as they were **** to wait for the two to finish.

“I never like having to wait while they do this.” Kitty said, shaking her head. “You’d think they’d at least PRETEND to talk while they argue telepathically.”

“I know mon petite.” Sighed Gambit, shaking his as he looked over to Rogue, who was eyeing him in a way that made him a bit uncomfortable. “Hello Cherie, you doing well no?”

Seeing her lick her clawed finger and trace it down between her breasts, the wendigo woman gave him a salacious look then winked.

“A ‘yes’ would be less cryptic Cher...”

“Uhm… Emma?” Scott called over the silent argument, waving his hand over his head to get the towering woman’s attention and propping himself up with a crutch with his good hand while standing with bandaged legs. “I’m okay, McCoy says I’ll make a full recovery soo…”

“Shhhhhh…” Hissed out the White queen, pointing a finger at Scott but never taking her eyes off the professor. “The grown ups are having an intellectual conversation love, give us a quick sec.”

(Really? You’re shushing him now?) Scoffed Xavier. (He’s MY prized student, only I may shush him.)

(You didn’t teach him everything, he’s got more skills in the sack than he does behind a chalk board.)

(Honestly with the pelvic injuries you left behind in using him as a human vibrator, I’m surprised he’ll ever walk again.)

(Following YOUR example, Charles? He really IS the teacher’s pet.)

“Oh, you bitch!”

The X-men gave a collective gasp at the professor’s outburst, as did the wendigo behind Emma.

“Professor, such language.”

Darting his gaze over his shoulder, Xavier gave Jubilee a dirty look that made the rest of the campus cringe. Then turn his attention back to the smirking Wendigo woman who idly scratched at her chest.

“Alright that’s it, no more mister I don’t control people telepathically to get my way. YOU little missy are going to stay complacent and not eat anymore people until Doctor Strange shows up in an hour and fixes this lovely garden of horseshit you’ve been planting for days!”

“Careful there Charles, you think you can handle the WENDIGO QUEEN? All by your lonesome?”

“Sigh… Now you’re calling yourself… This has been a long-time coming Emma!” Bringing his hands to the brow of his forehead, Xavier glared back at the giant, furry woman who did the same. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be serving tea in a maid’s dress and bow in your hair.”

“Coming from the guy who’s going to be served TO me.” Chuckled Emma, her gaze intensifying as the two telepaths grappled with each other mentally. The X-men tried to act, but found themselves stone stiff, paralysed by the psychic might going on around them, and Betsy smirking with her hand at her furry brow, keeping her friends from interfering.

(You can’t win against me Emma; I’ve been a master at skull fuckery since I’ve been a toddler!)

(Yes, I’ve been most impressed with your memories of having the family maids role play as Charlie’s Angels for you when you hit puberty, they pale in comparison to some of the more mundane work I did your age.)

(Oh? Like what?)

(Like having to psychically record each and every dungeon fetish fantasy for Shaw’s nightly wet dreams. Care for a taste?)

His eye twitching and losing concentration, Xavier recoiled at the hundreds of hours worth of memories involving whips, bondage, hot wax and the disgusting man in a latex thong and belt straps.

“AWW FUCK!” Charles cried out, blinking reeling back as if he had been slapped across the face. “I think I’m blind! Blind as a… Bucawk!”

(And that’s how the chicken gets roasted.)

“BAWK! Bu-bu-bu BAWK! Bu-CAWK!” Flapping his arms and darting his head like a bird, the Professor had been reduced to acting like a chicken flapping his arms and peck at the arm rest of his wheelchair.

Handing the leash to Ororo, Emma sashayed up to the squawking, crowing Xavier as the rest of the X-men stood there, paralysed by Betsy’s telepathy. Hoisting him up by his sides, the man continued to bawk when he was lifted over her head where she licked her lips.

“Hmmm, chicken nuggies!”