Face the Blood: Fred and Monet (BACKDATED)

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Before the accident, Fred and Monet take to the task that was almost built for them.





Monet lent against a rock, one half of her face and her legs, visible under her shorts, still covered with bruises from Hungary, staring out at one of the (many) fields full of anti-personnel mines surrounding the village. They'd been assured that there (probably) weren't any anti-tank mines in this area. Limited funds meant that everyone involved was perfectly willing to throw a pair of invulnerable mutants at the problem, which was why she and Fred were here, three Red Cross guys beside them, ready to run for cover if necessary. She rolled her shoulders and bent over, touching her toes before standing and smiling reassuringly at Fred.

"So... You good to go kicking around in the paddock over there?" she asked.


Fred had been looking into the field for at least the last half hour, and had smoked at least half a pack as he'd done so. He'd talked to Mister Forge and Doctor Grey at length about his...power...and his upward levels of invulnerability. From everything he understood, he should be just fine walking though this minefield all day, as long as his eyes and ears were protected.

Still, who in their right mind sauntered into a minefield on their own free will?

Fred inhaled his current cigarette almost entirely in one drag, and looked to Monet, "Uh, I , uh...ready as I'll ever be, I guess...but...uh...how do we go about this? Just...just, uh...start walking?"


"I could drop you in the middle if you'd like," she offered and then took pity on the boy. Monet forgot, sometimes, that not every invulnerable mutant had her attitude to their powers. She'd been invulnerable for more than half her life and had manifested that aspect of her powers long before she'd internalized the idea that sometimes, you can get hurt. Neither Marius nor her recent bruises had been able to convince her otherwise. "Look, you'll be fine. We go in, bounce around a bit... You know there's about fifteen local kids watching us from the hill, right? Do you really want to look bad in front of them? I'll carry you in, if you want, so you don't have to you know, walk past the keep out sign."


The thought of Monet carrying him was tempting, but it also felt too ridiculous for words. instead, Fred inhaled and hard as he could as he moved towards the minefield, pulling the cigarette down to almost entirely ash.

He looked at the sign, still holding his breath, and then walked past it.


She watched him and waved to the locals, all of whom were out there to watch the fucking stupid Yank and the Australian be suicidal before flying into the middle of the field and bouncing across it. She hit a mine and went flying, curling into a ball and landing on another before catching herself in mid air and starting again. This was fun!


After he put on his goggles and earplugs, Fred watched in muted and stupefied amazement as Monet launched herself into another mine. He watched her go up, then back down...then looked down to his own feet. He took another step, than another...

When the blast cleared from the mine he'd set off, Fred stood there, a mixture of confusion and amazement on his face. Other than the nearby crater, he hadn't really moved all the much...


Monet had landed headfirst in a bush of some sort after her last mine. Climbing out, she waved at Fred, who, being harder to move, was having an easier time of it than she was. She called over to him, "Good work!" before beginning to systematically walk up and down the field.


Fred, after his third or fourth mine, had gotten comfortable with the idea that this plan wasn't as life threatening as it seemed. Still, it wasn't the most efficient way to go about it. He spread his legs slightly and pushed off from the ground, spreading his arms out so that he hit as much ground as he could when he landed. Several mines went off beneath the large Texan in short order, and when the dust cleared, Fred was standing unscathed, looking exasperated, "How many of these som'bitches are there!?"


"Craploads. Hey, I've got an idea. I bet you $20 and a six pack of crownies that I can get more of them than you." She'd have bet more but only someone actively poor or retarded would dress like Fred and either way, taking advantage of him would just be wrong. "I'll get that Jusuf over there to keep score," she said, pointing to their guide.


"Beer don't do anythin' for me, and I got cash. Make it a bottle of Golden Grain and some iTunes cards and your on," Fred said, and bellyflopped into another cluster of mines. He walked from the resulting plume of smoke and dirt dusting himself off and wiping the grit from his face.


"You're on. And you're gonna lose," Monet said, taking off and slamming into the ground again.