LOG: [Ororo, Marius] Promotion

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After a long year, Ororo has some positive news for Marius.


In celebration of the weather's steady progression towards "less wretched," Marius was spending more time enjoying the great outdoors. In indulgence of his short attention span, he had resorted to one of the favoured activities amongst his group in Brisbane: the application of everyday items to unsuitable tasks.

Balancing the broom in the palm of his hand had occupied him for a few minutes, but had not been sufficiently entertaining. He was quick to determine balancing it on his forehead was a futile endeavor, since maintaining appropriate balance of an object with unevenly distributed weight required joints his neck did not possess. A try on the toe of his shoe was somewhat more promising, though at a certain point his leg muscles proved unequal to gravity. Now, with all these possibilities exhausted, Marius grew bored enough to go to resort to the final obligatory move for a young man in his particular circle when holding anything approximating a staff: a simple but impressive-looking wushu move popularized by one of their more martially-inclined mates.

Of course, it turned out that what worked well with a pipe was somewhat less straightforward with a pushbroom. Aforementioned unequal distribution of weight aside, Marius realized more attention ought to have been paid to the rather notable protrusions at one end around the time one of them caught him in the back of the knee.

Staring into the abruptly visible sky, Marius remarked to the world at large, "That could have gone better."

The response, from a vantage point rather above Marius, was both amused and, if possible, thoughtful, as if the speaker had been pondering something profound and Marius's demonstration with the broom had proven some point relevant to the idea. "As could be said of many things in life. However, practice is a good way to ensure that what could have gone better eventually does."

Marius grinned up at the headmistress. "Very true. And in consideration of the callow and untested ways of the youth which you yourself have only recently departed, I hope that you shall deem my lack of practice unworthy of comment to certain of my peers." Twisting his hands behind his head, Marius drew his knees up to his chest and snapped them outwards, propelling himself from a lying position to a crouch with only a slight stagger. He stretched his arms out for balance and straightened, still smiling. "Providin' they were inclined to believe such rumours in light of my other copious examples of physical prowess, of course."

Ororo touched down lightly, having been enjoying a leisurely flight over the mansion's grounds when she had caught sight of Marius 'exercising' below. "One can never tell, with young people today," she replied, arching an eyebrow curiously. "But I promise to keep this particular example to myself."

"Cheers. As far as they're to know, there are no mistakes -- only those situations for which I have yet to supply sufficient explanation of that secret intent which passes all too often invisible to the untrained eye." Marius put his foot on the head of the broom and applied pressure. The handle whipped up to thump solidly in the palm of his hand. "Ah, pardon my lapse. How are you this fine day? My thanks if you arranged it yourself."

"As much as I wish I could claim responsibility, I think spring deserves the credit for the weather we are currently enjoying. But regardless, I am well enough." The silver-haired woman pursed her lips, surveying Marius thoughtfully. "And yourself?"

Marius upended the broom on the palm of his hand and moved his arm back and forth, balancing it quite successfully. "Locked in mortal combat with the inanimate. I intend to be the best there is at what I do. Granted, domination of the pushbroom was not the original goal, but as all the impressive skills have been consumately mastered I've found my options somewhat limited."

"There is nothing wrong with doubling up on impressive skills - you never know when it might be necessary to substitute your own expertise for someone else's. It never hurts to be prepared for such eventualities."

"The danger presented by the cunning accumulation of spiderwebs in various corners shall not find me wanting," the boy agreed solemly as his interest in not being smacked in the face with a broomhandle inspired him to bend back at a 45 degree angle.

"Er." It was rare that Ororo was at a loss for words, but she was temporarily sidetracked from the path she had been intending to pursue, instead watching in silence to see if Marius would avoid impending doom delivered by custodial equipment. It was captivating.

Marius, for his part, displayed the happy obliviousness of one cherishing the opportunity to mug for an audience. "Steady, steady, steady -- aha!" Marius jerked his hand close to his body, jolting the broom in the opposite direction. With one quick motion he drew his hand out from beneath the broom, grabbed it a third of the way up the shaft, and, without breaking the object's momentum, redirected it into a toss above his head. The broom spun twice. Then, just before it could deliver the imminent concussion, the boy's opposite hand caught it in mid-air.

With a final showy flourish of the broom, Marius dropped into a deep bow. "No applause is necessary, although I do accept personal cheques."

Making a show of patting her pockets, Ororo shook her head. "I seem to have forgotten my checkbook inside. Perhaps you will accept this instead?" She withdrew a slim black box and held it out to the young man, her expression unreadable.

Marius looked at the box, then back at Ororo, clearly perplexed. Taking the box, he turned it around in his hands with a curious air. "Flattered as I am," the Australian grinned, "I must say this proposal comes a bit sudden."

Dear goddess, I hope not... Upon opening the box, Marius was presented with two small, shining insignia - gold circles around two familiar-looking X's - which winked up at him in the midday sun. "Marius," the weatherworker said, a hint of humor entering her tone, "will you join the team?"

As Marius blinked down at the insignia, an event of great rarity transpired: he was speechless.

It had always been the ultimate goal, of course. Certainly Marius would have been the first to say, loudly and at length, that he had put in the time. Still, even his well-cultivated resiliency hadn't been able to entirely protect him from the bad taste left in his mouth by the confrontation with the slavers. Every reason for joining the team he'd given months ago had been the absolute truth. Like Jennie and Kyle, he was tired of being a victim. But even as he'd stood with them in Ororo's office Marius had been acutely aware of the difference. Of the three of them, he was the only one who needed to make redress.

Now it was almost a year later, and the woman who'd faced him down in that Monte Carlo club was presenting him with the official team insignia.

"Traditionally," Ororo said, after a suitable long, dramatic pause, "this is where the offeree makes some reply." It wasn't as if she expected the young man to turn it down, but she was beginning to get a bit worried. A quiet Marius was a disconcerting sight.

The boy closed the lid, carefully and with barely a click. Lowering the box to his side, Marius looked up to meet his commanding officer's eyes.

"Merci," he said, softly, and without a hint of flamboyance. "Truly."

Her expression softening, Ororo smiled and reached out to put a hand on Marius's shoulder. She always enjoyed saying this, but it meant even more this time than usual. "Welcome to the team."