Quick note; I am going to be changing POVs from time to time, don't worry
I'll tell you when I do. If I say NPOV it means no point of view, told from
God's POV I suppose, lol. NPOV will be full of the different feelings from
all the characters. Ok, to the story. Ha ha.
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(Milana's POV)
"Welcome, I'm glad to see you're alright," the old man looked at me. I said nothing, he was obviously a telekinetic so there was no point in me saying anything if he already knew my answer. II still hadn't said anything, I haven't spoken a word that wasn't along the lines of 'please' or 'don't' or once in a great while 'help' in several years, there had been no reason to. I often wonder why I even bother saying those three words, they fall on deaf ears to anything along the lines of mercy or humanity.
If someone ever talked to me, they would probably dub me the weakest, most pathetic thing they've ever seen. They would probably shrug if they heard I had problems, some bad memories that made me the sniveling, terrified wreck I am today and mention that everyone has problems. I am a weakling, to everyone that doesn't consider me a plague or devil that is.
If you heard someone mention I was a pathetic loony then you'd probably be in the right to believe them; I haven't fought my captors in over a year, and I'm almost a mute I suppose. I'll run at the sight of cars approaching me in the desert, and I was pathetic when these strange guys called the X Men came and rescued me (I'm still wondering who they are and why they want to help me of all people), most people would fight back, bite their lip and probably die fighting the men who 'owned' them. Not me though, I curl up in a ball and let worse things then being beaten to death happen to me, I'm too weak to even get away when I've had the chance at freedom nine times.
I am a weakling, a pathetic little girl who can't even see cars coming at her without wetting herself. Damn me. I hate myself for it, for not talking, for not fighting, but I always duck out when it's time to prove to myself and anyone else that I'm not as hopeless as I seem, because I am.
Now I'm here, standing in an office facing a mutant who probably knows my whole life history and exactly what I was thinking right then, dressed in nothing but a thong and a bra (I was lucky to have that much when the two 'Vermont boys' arrived) covered in a trench coat, which I had wrapped as tight as I could. I still have no idea whatsoever about who these guys are, where this place is, or why I was here. I was still in shock with having just been recaptured (damn my inability to get away, damn damn damn it) and being dragged back to be rescued by three mutants, one of which I know from somewhere, even if neither he nor I (never spoken but apparent anyway) remembered where exactly we had seen eachother.
The old man said something about staying there and getting some decent clothes, but I was still thinking about the blue furred man. Where had I heard that voice before?
Then the old man seems to realize I was in deep thought, and he chuckles. Suddenly the guy with the red sunglasses, god that laser thing had scared the shit out of me in the bar, came in, accompanied by a woman I hadn't seen before. She was dark skinned, with long straight white hair. She was smiling at me, I couldn't figure out why. What was with these people? Apart from blue man I had no wisps of connection with any of them, and that was a faint distant one. Maybe I had seen him on TV, I have no idea. So if I didn't know anyone here, and no one knew me, why were they acting as if I was their lost cousin or something?
But I stared at the woman, more specifically her mouth. It had been so long since a woman had smiled at me, so long since anyone had smiled at me without the intention to beat or rape me.
"Hello, my name is Ororo," the woman said. I barely heard her, only realizing I was starring when her smile faltered slightly and I realized I was making her uncomfortable. I lowered my eyes and cursed at myself for starring, whoever these people were they seemed to have good intentions. And that man, why were my thoughts always going back to him? Those eyes, that fur, the German accent. They were so familiar, yet I couldn't place them at any time in my life, I couldn't remember where I knew them from of what they were to me.
*****
(Professor Xavier's POV)
Remarkable. This girl thought she was weak, yet from what I could see of her life she is probably one of the strongest teenagers I have seen in a while. A mute, besides a once in a while plea, it was going to be hard to get her to talk, she may never anyway, but she did think, a lot. A wandering mind also. Usually when a child comes here for the first time they are full of questions, eager to learn about the school and paying attention to everything anyone says to them, yet this girl gets lost in thought so easily she didn't even realize I had told her that she could stay here if she wanted, I doubt she heard anything I said.
She was lost in thought about Kurt, it was projecting very strongly. Somehow she knew him, but she doesn't know from where or when, and it was frustrating her. She had heard his name, but shoved it aside and almost forgotten it. I'm sure that Kurt thinks he has seen this girl before, but like her he has no idea from where or when.
And she had been thinking about Ororo. Her smile, more like. I felt a great wave of pity for this girl, who was distracted so much by a simple smile from a woman. And the shame of making her feel uncomfortable. Milana felt no connection to anyone in the school besides Kurt, and she still didn't understand why we had rescued her, and she was wary, even though she was grateful. It was clear that helping her to heal from her past was going to be extremely difficult.
"Storm, why don't you take Milana to a room and find her something to wear, I don't think it would be too good to let her walk around in that trench coat," I said. Storm smiled again, nodded, and held the door open for the girl who just starred at it, unsure of what to do.
"Would you like to come with me?" Ororo asked. Milana hesitantly followed her out of the room, and then Scott turned to face me.
"Alright, what exactly is wrong with that girl?" he asked. I sighed.
"She's been a slave of that town you rescued her from for a bit over two years, and she's been used for more than a servant," I said. Scott looked angry as the realization dawned on him.
"I hope Magneto destroys that town," he muttered bitterly. This was one of the few times I agreed with this kind of statement, there was no excuse for what those people did to the girl. Eric would be furious if he found out about the town, and without a doubt attack the place.
*****
(Milana's POV)
Good Lord, this place is huge! At least ten times bigger than the bar, but probably even bigger than that. The woman with white hair led me down several hallways and finally she stopped outside a large wood door that was almost identical to every other door I had seen so far. She opened the door and revealed a large bedroom with a bed, dresser, chair, and two more doors in it. I almost threw up when I saw the bed, and instantly I started to pray that only I would be using this room. But it would be so typical if I wasn't, the people who rescued me using me just like my 'owners', figures.
The woman, Ororo, walked inside and opened one of the doors, revealing a large closet. She also opened the other one, which turned out to be a bathroom.
"Here are some clothes," she said, holding up a pair of baggy jeans and a T- shirt. "The bathroom has all the toiletries you might need, and there is a cafeteria downstairs. Are you hungry?" I was still stuck on the clothes. Who were these people? Did they just go rescue losers and bring them here for fun or what? Then I realized she had asked me about food. A sharp twinge in my stomach dared me to refuse, but I nodded.
"Well, then you can go change if you would like, and I'll wait out here. Then we can go get something to eat," Ororo said, and held out the clothes to me. I slowly took them, they looked about the right size. Then I went into the gleaming white bathroom and shut the door, taking off the trench coat that the old bartender used to wear all the time. I pulled on the clothes and found they fit me perfectly, and even had a hole in the back of the panes the perfect size for my tail to fit into, which was a relief. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and just gazed at it for a moment.
I hadn't seen myself in over a year, and it was hard to gaze at the purple furred face that stared back at me, a mutant. Then I realized I had some blood on my face, old and dry, clinging to my fur. I looked around and found a washcloth and some soap, and scrubbed the blood off. Then I carefully replaced everything and dried my face, feeling a little better.
Then I walked out of the bathroom, throwing the trench coat in the closet, and looked at Ororo.
"You look very nice," she said. "Now how about some food?" I nodded dumbly and followed her out. Sometimes I wish I had the courage to talk.
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Well, now that some of her history is revealed, what are we going to do? Heeheehee, and what is her connection with Kurt? Blue and purple, interesting colors. Whatever, review, good or bad, maybe guess what you think the relationship is between the blue guy and the purple girl. Short chapter, I know, don't kill me. Well, 2 am calls for sleep, c ya l8er!
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(Milana's POV)
"Welcome, I'm glad to see you're alright," the old man looked at me. I said nothing, he was obviously a telekinetic so there was no point in me saying anything if he already knew my answer. II still hadn't said anything, I haven't spoken a word that wasn't along the lines of 'please' or 'don't' or once in a great while 'help' in several years, there had been no reason to. I often wonder why I even bother saying those three words, they fall on deaf ears to anything along the lines of mercy or humanity.
If someone ever talked to me, they would probably dub me the weakest, most pathetic thing they've ever seen. They would probably shrug if they heard I had problems, some bad memories that made me the sniveling, terrified wreck I am today and mention that everyone has problems. I am a weakling, to everyone that doesn't consider me a plague or devil that is.
If you heard someone mention I was a pathetic loony then you'd probably be in the right to believe them; I haven't fought my captors in over a year, and I'm almost a mute I suppose. I'll run at the sight of cars approaching me in the desert, and I was pathetic when these strange guys called the X Men came and rescued me (I'm still wondering who they are and why they want to help me of all people), most people would fight back, bite their lip and probably die fighting the men who 'owned' them. Not me though, I curl up in a ball and let worse things then being beaten to death happen to me, I'm too weak to even get away when I've had the chance at freedom nine times.
I am a weakling, a pathetic little girl who can't even see cars coming at her without wetting herself. Damn me. I hate myself for it, for not talking, for not fighting, but I always duck out when it's time to prove to myself and anyone else that I'm not as hopeless as I seem, because I am.
Now I'm here, standing in an office facing a mutant who probably knows my whole life history and exactly what I was thinking right then, dressed in nothing but a thong and a bra (I was lucky to have that much when the two 'Vermont boys' arrived) covered in a trench coat, which I had wrapped as tight as I could. I still have no idea whatsoever about who these guys are, where this place is, or why I was here. I was still in shock with having just been recaptured (damn my inability to get away, damn damn damn it) and being dragged back to be rescued by three mutants, one of which I know from somewhere, even if neither he nor I (never spoken but apparent anyway) remembered where exactly we had seen eachother.
The old man said something about staying there and getting some decent clothes, but I was still thinking about the blue furred man. Where had I heard that voice before?
Then the old man seems to realize I was in deep thought, and he chuckles. Suddenly the guy with the red sunglasses, god that laser thing had scared the shit out of me in the bar, came in, accompanied by a woman I hadn't seen before. She was dark skinned, with long straight white hair. She was smiling at me, I couldn't figure out why. What was with these people? Apart from blue man I had no wisps of connection with any of them, and that was a faint distant one. Maybe I had seen him on TV, I have no idea. So if I didn't know anyone here, and no one knew me, why were they acting as if I was their lost cousin or something?
But I stared at the woman, more specifically her mouth. It had been so long since a woman had smiled at me, so long since anyone had smiled at me without the intention to beat or rape me.
"Hello, my name is Ororo," the woman said. I barely heard her, only realizing I was starring when her smile faltered slightly and I realized I was making her uncomfortable. I lowered my eyes and cursed at myself for starring, whoever these people were they seemed to have good intentions. And that man, why were my thoughts always going back to him? Those eyes, that fur, the German accent. They were so familiar, yet I couldn't place them at any time in my life, I couldn't remember where I knew them from of what they were to me.
*****
(Professor Xavier's POV)
Remarkable. This girl thought she was weak, yet from what I could see of her life she is probably one of the strongest teenagers I have seen in a while. A mute, besides a once in a while plea, it was going to be hard to get her to talk, she may never anyway, but she did think, a lot. A wandering mind also. Usually when a child comes here for the first time they are full of questions, eager to learn about the school and paying attention to everything anyone says to them, yet this girl gets lost in thought so easily she didn't even realize I had told her that she could stay here if she wanted, I doubt she heard anything I said.
She was lost in thought about Kurt, it was projecting very strongly. Somehow she knew him, but she doesn't know from where or when, and it was frustrating her. She had heard his name, but shoved it aside and almost forgotten it. I'm sure that Kurt thinks he has seen this girl before, but like her he has no idea from where or when.
And she had been thinking about Ororo. Her smile, more like. I felt a great wave of pity for this girl, who was distracted so much by a simple smile from a woman. And the shame of making her feel uncomfortable. Milana felt no connection to anyone in the school besides Kurt, and she still didn't understand why we had rescued her, and she was wary, even though she was grateful. It was clear that helping her to heal from her past was going to be extremely difficult.
"Storm, why don't you take Milana to a room and find her something to wear, I don't think it would be too good to let her walk around in that trench coat," I said. Storm smiled again, nodded, and held the door open for the girl who just starred at it, unsure of what to do.
"Would you like to come with me?" Ororo asked. Milana hesitantly followed her out of the room, and then Scott turned to face me.
"Alright, what exactly is wrong with that girl?" he asked. I sighed.
"She's been a slave of that town you rescued her from for a bit over two years, and she's been used for more than a servant," I said. Scott looked angry as the realization dawned on him.
"I hope Magneto destroys that town," he muttered bitterly. This was one of the few times I agreed with this kind of statement, there was no excuse for what those people did to the girl. Eric would be furious if he found out about the town, and without a doubt attack the place.
*****
(Milana's POV)
Good Lord, this place is huge! At least ten times bigger than the bar, but probably even bigger than that. The woman with white hair led me down several hallways and finally she stopped outside a large wood door that was almost identical to every other door I had seen so far. She opened the door and revealed a large bedroom with a bed, dresser, chair, and two more doors in it. I almost threw up when I saw the bed, and instantly I started to pray that only I would be using this room. But it would be so typical if I wasn't, the people who rescued me using me just like my 'owners', figures.
The woman, Ororo, walked inside and opened one of the doors, revealing a large closet. She also opened the other one, which turned out to be a bathroom.
"Here are some clothes," she said, holding up a pair of baggy jeans and a T- shirt. "The bathroom has all the toiletries you might need, and there is a cafeteria downstairs. Are you hungry?" I was still stuck on the clothes. Who were these people? Did they just go rescue losers and bring them here for fun or what? Then I realized she had asked me about food. A sharp twinge in my stomach dared me to refuse, but I nodded.
"Well, then you can go change if you would like, and I'll wait out here. Then we can go get something to eat," Ororo said, and held out the clothes to me. I slowly took them, they looked about the right size. Then I went into the gleaming white bathroom and shut the door, taking off the trench coat that the old bartender used to wear all the time. I pulled on the clothes and found they fit me perfectly, and even had a hole in the back of the panes the perfect size for my tail to fit into, which was a relief. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and just gazed at it for a moment.
I hadn't seen myself in over a year, and it was hard to gaze at the purple furred face that stared back at me, a mutant. Then I realized I had some blood on my face, old and dry, clinging to my fur. I looked around and found a washcloth and some soap, and scrubbed the blood off. Then I carefully replaced everything and dried my face, feeling a little better.
Then I walked out of the bathroom, throwing the trench coat in the closet, and looked at Ororo.
"You look very nice," she said. "Now how about some food?" I nodded dumbly and followed her out. Sometimes I wish I had the courage to talk.
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Well, now that some of her history is revealed, what are we going to do? Heeheehee, and what is her connection with Kurt? Blue and purple, interesting colors. Whatever, review, good or bad, maybe guess what you think the relationship is between the blue guy and the purple girl. Short chapter, I know, don't kill me. Well, 2 am calls for sleep, c ya l8er!