Ah, here we go... I just want to say that there's a bit of a story behind this fic... I was bored in French class, and I had a plotbunny for a one-shot... So I had to write it. Only thing was, Mr. Rousseau (my French and Social Studies teacher) was walking around, peering over people's shoulders, so I had to be writing French... hence the French version. Then I translated it for the sake of translating, and so all of the non-Francophone readers can actually understand my work. ^^ The English version is a bit more...added-upon than the French one, so... Oh, and I put them together because they looked kind of pathetic separated, so yes, I do know that I could put them as separate fics...

You know, the French version probably has a billion conjugation errors, but I tried, I really did... If anybody else is French immersion as well, could you point out any grammar errors for me? Thanks. ^^

Tadaa!

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Moi-Même

Ce n'est pas juste, que j'avais besoin d'être né dans ce corps.
Depuis ma naissance, je sembla comme ça; les yeux d'orrées comme une chatte, les écailles d'un bleu un peu plus foncée que la reste de ma peau.
Ma mère avait me cacher dans notre maison depuis toujours, même quand j'était juste une petite fille.... Ce n'était pas pour mon protection, comme elle disait. Quelque fois, je pense que la seule raison qu'elle me gardait été parce qu'elle ne savera pas quesqu'elle ferait avec mon corps mort.
Je ne savait pas mon père, mais j'imagine qu'il serait aussi si repugnait avec mon appearance naturelle que je save que ma mère est.
Mais ça c'etait ma jeunesse. J'était mis en cage dans la maison de ma mère.
Aujoud'hui, c'est different. Aujourd'hui, j'ai mon pouvoir.
Je peut transformer ma peau bleu, et déguiser ma vois; me manipuler donce je peut me sembler comme n'importe quelle personne; un vagabond ou un riche, une fille de cinq ou un homme de cinquante, l'éboueur ou le président, ça ne fait rien qui.
Je peuve être toulemonde.
Je m'appelle Raven Darkholme, Mystique; et la seule personne que je ne peut pas être est moi-même.

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It's not fair, that I was born in this body. For as long as I can remember, I've looked like this; golden eyes, like a cat's, and scales of a blue only slightly darker than the rest of my skin.
My mother hid me away in our house for most of my childhood. But I don't think it was for my protection, as she always told me; I sometimes think that the only reason she kept me around was because she wouldn't know what to do with my dead body.
I never knew my father, but I imagine that he'd be just as disgusted with my natural appearance as I know my mother is.
But that was my childhood. I was trapped there; I couldn't go anywhere else, looking like I did. But today, I have my power. The ability to change my blue-scaled skin, and to disguise my strangely-layered voice (that I always think of pretty-sounding, even though I'm sure others disagree), to manipulate myself to resemble anybody I wish.
Be it a hobo or a rich man, a girl of five or a man of fifty, the garbage man or the president, to doesn't matter who.
I can become them all.
My name is Raven Darkholme, Mystique, and the only person I can't be is myself.