I do not own the X-men or anything else recognizable. They all belong to their respective owners.
The night was bitterly cold. The wind was howling through the trees on a cold January night in New York City. It was midnight. A small girl slipped inside in what appeared to be a posh night club, getting in without even having to look at the bouncer, but was really one of the worse places a girl like her could be in. A strip club. It was quite obvious what she does for a living, but she looks so out of place. She looks so young, at the height of 4'10, with her large blue and, strangely enough, silver eyes. Her long black hair flows down her back like a waterfall, her smooth skin looks like porcelain. She looks like a doll, small, innocent, and oh so fragile.
She doesn't seem like to the type to make a man's wildest fantasies to come true, but then again, some people like the Lolita type. They don't expect her to become the sexiest woman most men have ever seen, to enrapture everyone's attention with one single swing of her hips. They don't expect the light British accent, or the biting and sarcastic sense of humor. They don't suspect the deep rooted pain, or the aching loneliness that she hides so well. They only see the luxuriously dressed doll, a person who will do anything for money.
Doll. Such a fitting description, considering the lack of emotion see in those sapphire and silver orbs. Dolls have no heart, so why should she? She doesn't feel, as years of pain and heartbreak and drug abuse has forced her to turn the emotions off. It doesn't help that he can feel the emotions of others, feel and hear their sickening lust. She has traveled the world, trying to find the relief she so desperately seeks. Anything to make it all stop. Being able to have control of others has long since lost its appeal. She has tried to kill herself, but she is able to walk it off moments after. The cruelty of life has taken its toll.
As she walks into the backroom where the girls get ready, she can hear the whispers and feel the jealousy. "Those are totally contacts, there is no way her eyes are real." "I heard he got plastic surgery to look like that." She rolls her eyes at the rumors. Everyone in this room is more fake than she will ever be. He just prepares herself, donning a small baby-doll dress, a nightgown actually, and putting light makeup on. Oh, and the hairspray. You can never forget the hairspray. She then hears a quiet whisper of "Faina!'" and rushes onto he stage. She has a special style of performance, she only sings and slinks around seductively on the stage. She only takes her clothes off when someone asks for a special performance, and perhaps even a little extra.
Thankfully, she gets no special requests that night. She walks out the door and lights a cigarette, inhaling deeply to calm her nerves. She begins the walk to her small apartment, with its large closet filled with meaningless designer clothes. She supposes that she is a bit of a Lolita, seeking comfort in strangers and rich older men. She doesn't get much comfort, she has never found pleasure in the arms of another, tainted by the horrors of her past. It's only made worse by the fact that she is a mutant. Class 5 at that. It explains the instability of her mind. The powers- telepathy, telekinesis, a healing factor, powerful persuasion and mind control, and the voice of siren, is her curse. She doesn't know what she did to deserve it. She shakes her head to banish the thoughts when she is suddenly grabbed and pulled into an alley.
She is pushed against a wall roughly. A mouth is pushed onto hers and a tongue forced between her lips. She knows what this is. Rape. She has experienced too many times to deal with it again. She bites down harshly on her attacker's tongue. He reels back, cursing, and slams her into the wall. She glares at him at slams him into the other side of the alley with her powers. He tries to attack again and gets a sudden vicious pain in his head. He looks at her in shocks and scrambles to run away, but its too late. He collapses on the ground in a cold and unmoving heap. Faina begins to shake, tears streaming down her face, and slides to sit on the ground. She is unaware that the large burst of power she sent off has grabbed the attention of the mutant group known as the X-men.
After drifting into a sleep-like state, she hears footsteps approach. She tenses up, until she hears a strange soothing yet rough voice say "Calm down darlin', we ain't gonna hurt you." She's not sure why or how, buts she knows she can trust this man. She's so tired, tired of running away from everything. She craves relief, and she feels so much calmer around him. He lifts her in his strong arms, and she drifts into unconsciousness.
