So I somewhat recently really got into X-men, the movies, and I decided to write about Nightcrawler, who is my 3 fave. Set after the second movie but before the third, and continues in my own little world, no real mentions of X-men : TLS. My own little fic. I don't own anything, I don't speak spanish or German, so don;t hate on my grammar in these languages! I also take any disparity from "actual" x-men events entirely on myself.
A mutant daughter of a mutant. That's what I am. I am proud to be too.
My father's name is Eduardo La Rioja, he is a farmer near Bahia Grande in the Patagonian Santa Cruz state, we live in Argentina, the second souterhnmost country in the world, Chili is just a spec ahead of us because of Cabo de Hornos. And I am his only daughter, Anna Maria La Rioja. It's just the two of us on the estate. My mother left when she realised I was a mutant like my father. She could cope with a husband that made it rain, but not a daughter who could grow trees in a wink or lift huge rocks without even touching them. I was never resentful of her, she gave me my life, and she picked the most loving and caring father in the world for me.
I never went to school. Still it does not mean I am uneducated. My father was scared of what the villagers could have done to me. I just didn't understand when I was a kid that outside of the walls of my father's estate, it was not ok to mind-juggle rocks, dance in mind-made standstorms or grow trees and plants to my every whim. So needless to say that within my walls, I grew stunningly beautiful gardens. I have trees with build-in swings, a beautiful treehouse in which I lounge to read my favorite books, with a beautiful view, Bahia Grande and the Atlantic Ocean. And in my spare time, when I am not reading or helping on the farm, I grow wines all over the walls.
I was lost in my thought when I heard my father screaming my name, he was pretty far in the fields, and he seemed to be in difficulties. I laughed, taking a swing to jump out of the tree, hanging from a solid liana that wasn't there a moment before, before running barefeet in the fields, the cereals litterally giving way for my frantic but happy race. My father smiled of my promptness, as behind me the plants of cereals took their rightful position, before showing me this big rock he broke a blade on trying to harvest a part of his field.
-That stupid rock.
-All thing serves a purpose, daddy.
I smile, knee on top of the rock, and mold it to my liking so I can take two large chunks of it in my hands, before pressing them as hard as my mind can to unbend the blades of the harvester, so my father can at least finish his day of work with this piece and weld it later. I then break the rock in smaller pieces that I send flying to the ever-growing pile of rocks beside the rock house, before climbing behind my father on the tractor, hanging on to his seat as he finished his harvest, then go back home. A bad surprise waiting there.
Many government agents, I knew they came for us mutants. Despite the thick walls around the estate, I was not deaf to rumours surrounding the mutants. Forced labor, torture, testing. I had images of white labs, dirty cages, people in Haz-Mat suits that study you without even looking at you. And it was the last thing I wanted for my father.
-Run, daddy.
-Anna Maria, no!
-Go. I will be ok.
I stopped the tractor, jumped down with him, and hid him. I had the power to. I was nearly just done when they grabbed me, the agents, forcing me away from my life.