Hey all! This is my first X-men: Evolution fic. Hope you like! I kind of
used a website for the translations, so sorry for any mistakes.
No, I do not own Evo or Kurt (I can dream, ja?) but I think the idea of Kurt never leaving Germany is mine.
If you ever have any suggestions, then please tell me! Also, I appreciated reviews.
To my -1.2 fans out there: Danke!
(Note: as this is set in Germany, all dialogue is in German unless specified otherwise)
~**~ Daybreak-chan ~**~
And yes, I'm an otaku who likes X-men: Evo. And no, I'm not afraid to admit it.
German Lost and Found
He had made a mistake. Not that this was the first time, but this one was irreversible. Someone had seen him. Kurt groaned, grimacing as it twisted into a low howl. If he hadn't taken that stupid dare. If only he had been more careful. But es kann nicht geholfen werden (it can't be helped). What's done is done, and now der Jahrmarkt was being questioned by the police and, if he wasn't mistaken, one of Germany's anti-mutant factions.
His small, private wagon's thin walls allowed his troupe's voices to be easily heard by Kurt's abnormal hearing.
"...going to search us, eventually. They're going to find him."
"...He could go into hiding... somewhere with his parents..."
Kurt winced. They were going to send him away. He was a demon after all, no matter what they told him. It was his fault that the circus was being threatened.
He waited a very long time, until he could hear no one and the sky was dark.
Walking across his room, he paused by a large castle made out of discarded matchboxes. It was quite the masterpiece, standing well over the blue mutant's seven-year-old height.
~It would be better for them, with me gone...~ Kurt pulled out a matchbox close to the bottom of the structure, watching apathetically as it collapsed into a heap.
Opening the box he had removed, the small boy carefully removed one unlit match and cradled it gently in his three-fingered hands. He grimaced again, looking far older then his seven years, and in one swift movement lit the match and threw in onto the pile.
**~**
The fire caught far more quickly then he had planned. Panicking, Kurt scrambled up the side of the tiny wagon and attempted to squeeze out of a small window. Finally he got most of the way outside, although not before leaving a good amount of singed fur behind.
The little acrobat scuttled towards a nearby forest, more gracefully on four feet than when he walked on two.
A lightness around his neck stopped him, and he reached down. The cross that normally hung there was gone, and the boy looked back forlornly at the burning wagon. He wasn't worried. The flames would be put out soon enough, and now he most certainly would be deemed dead.
He would've never left that cross behind on purpose.
No, I do not own Evo or Kurt (I can dream, ja?) but I think the idea of Kurt never leaving Germany is mine.
If you ever have any suggestions, then please tell me! Also, I appreciated reviews.
To my -1.2 fans out there: Danke!
(Note: as this is set in Germany, all dialogue is in German unless specified otherwise)
~**~ Daybreak-chan ~**~
And yes, I'm an otaku who likes X-men: Evo. And no, I'm not afraid to admit it.
German Lost and Found
He had made a mistake. Not that this was the first time, but this one was irreversible. Someone had seen him. Kurt groaned, grimacing as it twisted into a low howl. If he hadn't taken that stupid dare. If only he had been more careful. But es kann nicht geholfen werden (it can't be helped). What's done is done, and now der Jahrmarkt was being questioned by the police and, if he wasn't mistaken, one of Germany's anti-mutant factions.
His small, private wagon's thin walls allowed his troupe's voices to be easily heard by Kurt's abnormal hearing.
"...going to search us, eventually. They're going to find him."
"...He could go into hiding... somewhere with his parents..."
Kurt winced. They were going to send him away. He was a demon after all, no matter what they told him. It was his fault that the circus was being threatened.
He waited a very long time, until he could hear no one and the sky was dark.
Walking across his room, he paused by a large castle made out of discarded matchboxes. It was quite the masterpiece, standing well over the blue mutant's seven-year-old height.
~It would be better for them, with me gone...~ Kurt pulled out a matchbox close to the bottom of the structure, watching apathetically as it collapsed into a heap.
Opening the box he had removed, the small boy carefully removed one unlit match and cradled it gently in his three-fingered hands. He grimaced again, looking far older then his seven years, and in one swift movement lit the match and threw in onto the pile.
**~**
The fire caught far more quickly then he had planned. Panicking, Kurt scrambled up the side of the tiny wagon and attempted to squeeze out of a small window. Finally he got most of the way outside, although not before leaving a good amount of singed fur behind.
The little acrobat scuttled towards a nearby forest, more gracefully on four feet than when he walked on two.
A lightness around his neck stopped him, and he reached down. The cross that normally hung there was gone, and the boy looked back forlornly at the burning wagon. He wasn't worried. The flames would be put out soon enough, and now he most certainly would be deemed dead.
He would've never left that cross behind on purpose.