*Thanks to my reviewers! XM6, you rock!
^^^^ = flashback/end flashback
*******
Morigan pondered the night's events as she wandered through the gardens. Mr. Wagner seemed familiar, in a way she couldn't place. Not just because he looked like her rescuer, the same eyes, similar skin and scent, but from back before memory, somehow. He said he had been in a circus, maybe she had seen a poster once. Maybe the circus had passed through Ballycara or somewhere.
Memories aside, he seemed nice enough. More than she could say about the others at the institute. She remembered the way the other students had reacted to her the morning after she arrived.
^^^^^^^
It had started out innocently enough, just going to the kitchen for some cereal. Maybe it was her torn deerskin skirt and shirt, maybe it was the fact that she didn't really look normal: dark almond-shaped eyes that seemed like they could trap you with their deepness, pale skin with plenty of healing wounds, ink-black hair that was so tangle a brush would break at the sight of it, she looked like a nightmare, or one of those feral children you sometimes read about in newspapers, which wasn't so far off, since technically, she was.
Morigan observed the other students for a while and decided to get a bowl of cereal. The one called 'Froot Loops' seemed to be most popular, and while the idea of eating multicolored rings of unidentified plant material didn't exactly appeal to her, one will eat anything when one is starving. So she took a bowl off the stack on the counter, grabbed a spoon, and poured a small amount of cereal into it.
She then sat down at an empty chair at one of the tables. Next to her was a girl with short black hair and almond-shaped eyes. "I haven't seen you around here before," the girl said brightly. "When'd ya get here?"
"Last night," Morigan replied uncertainly. She had never been around this many people before, and she was horribly nervous.
"Really? Where from? Name's Jubilation Lee, by the way, but everyone calls me Jubilee."
"I'm Morigan. I used to live in Ireland, in Ballycara on the Dingle Peninsula."
"Nice to meet you. So, what's your power? Mine's blowing up stuff, pretty much." Jubilee held out her hand and sparks flew from it.
"I'm a shapeshifter."
Jubilee looked shocked. The kitchen went so quiet, you could've heard a pin drop.
"You're a what?"
"A shapeshifter. I can change my form to look like different things. Just animals, though, not people. Though then again, I never tried much more than hawk form for hunting rabbits or raven form to travel."
"Oh," Jubilee said, quickly getting up and moving to another spot, far away from Morigan. The others began to edge away slowly, as well.
'What did I do?' Morigan wondered as she finished her cereal in silence. She placed her bowl in the sink with the others, and walked out of the kitchen. As she did, she caught snatches of other's whispered conversations:
"Mystique-in-training."
"Probably lying to us. You can't trust a shapeshifter, they're too shifty. I'll bet she changes who she is as easily as you change clothes, Amara."
"Look at those eyes! Just...black! Not right, not right at all!"
"Why couldn't she have just stayed in Ireland?"
"Where'd she get her clothes, a wildlife preserve?"
"She looks like she's never been in a house before. Probably hasn't. Who'd want a shapeshifter for a kid?"
Morigan couldn't take it. She dashed out of the kitchen like there were wolves at her heels, out of the Institute and into the gardens, where she shinnied up a large, leafy tree and stayed there, crying. No one followed, no one noticed. "What's wrong with me?" she cried out. "Why am I an outcast, just because I'm a shapeshifter? And what do they have against Mystique? She saved my life! Okay, she had things to make amends for, but who doesn't? God forgives us all our sins!"
Morigan was a devout Catholic. Back in Ireland, she had flown miles to the nearest church, Saint Joan's, for Mass every Sunday. Even though her rosary was lost in the fire, she still prayed for guidance, for help, for a sign that she was in the right place. Exhausted from crying, she fell into dreamless sleep, not waking until nightfall.
^^^^^^^^^^^
Morigan sat in the tree she had subconsciously claimed as her own, praying and thinking, until dawn loomed and she went back to bed, dreaming of a place where she would be accepted.
******
^^^^ = flashback/end flashback
*******
Morigan pondered the night's events as she wandered through the gardens. Mr. Wagner seemed familiar, in a way she couldn't place. Not just because he looked like her rescuer, the same eyes, similar skin and scent, but from back before memory, somehow. He said he had been in a circus, maybe she had seen a poster once. Maybe the circus had passed through Ballycara or somewhere.
Memories aside, he seemed nice enough. More than she could say about the others at the institute. She remembered the way the other students had reacted to her the morning after she arrived.
^^^^^^^
It had started out innocently enough, just going to the kitchen for some cereal. Maybe it was her torn deerskin skirt and shirt, maybe it was the fact that she didn't really look normal: dark almond-shaped eyes that seemed like they could trap you with their deepness, pale skin with plenty of healing wounds, ink-black hair that was so tangle a brush would break at the sight of it, she looked like a nightmare, or one of those feral children you sometimes read about in newspapers, which wasn't so far off, since technically, she was.
Morigan observed the other students for a while and decided to get a bowl of cereal. The one called 'Froot Loops' seemed to be most popular, and while the idea of eating multicolored rings of unidentified plant material didn't exactly appeal to her, one will eat anything when one is starving. So she took a bowl off the stack on the counter, grabbed a spoon, and poured a small amount of cereal into it.
She then sat down at an empty chair at one of the tables. Next to her was a girl with short black hair and almond-shaped eyes. "I haven't seen you around here before," the girl said brightly. "When'd ya get here?"
"Last night," Morigan replied uncertainly. She had never been around this many people before, and she was horribly nervous.
"Really? Where from? Name's Jubilation Lee, by the way, but everyone calls me Jubilee."
"I'm Morigan. I used to live in Ireland, in Ballycara on the Dingle Peninsula."
"Nice to meet you. So, what's your power? Mine's blowing up stuff, pretty much." Jubilee held out her hand and sparks flew from it.
"I'm a shapeshifter."
Jubilee looked shocked. The kitchen went so quiet, you could've heard a pin drop.
"You're a what?"
"A shapeshifter. I can change my form to look like different things. Just animals, though, not people. Though then again, I never tried much more than hawk form for hunting rabbits or raven form to travel."
"Oh," Jubilee said, quickly getting up and moving to another spot, far away from Morigan. The others began to edge away slowly, as well.
'What did I do?' Morigan wondered as she finished her cereal in silence. She placed her bowl in the sink with the others, and walked out of the kitchen. As she did, she caught snatches of other's whispered conversations:
"Mystique-in-training."
"Probably lying to us. You can't trust a shapeshifter, they're too shifty. I'll bet she changes who she is as easily as you change clothes, Amara."
"Look at those eyes! Just...black! Not right, not right at all!"
"Why couldn't she have just stayed in Ireland?"
"Where'd she get her clothes, a wildlife preserve?"
"She looks like she's never been in a house before. Probably hasn't. Who'd want a shapeshifter for a kid?"
Morigan couldn't take it. She dashed out of the kitchen like there were wolves at her heels, out of the Institute and into the gardens, where she shinnied up a large, leafy tree and stayed there, crying. No one followed, no one noticed. "What's wrong with me?" she cried out. "Why am I an outcast, just because I'm a shapeshifter? And what do they have against Mystique? She saved my life! Okay, she had things to make amends for, but who doesn't? God forgives us all our sins!"
Morigan was a devout Catholic. Back in Ireland, she had flown miles to the nearest church, Saint Joan's, for Mass every Sunday. Even though her rosary was lost in the fire, she still prayed for guidance, for help, for a sign that she was in the right place. Exhausted from crying, she fell into dreamless sleep, not waking until nightfall.
^^^^^^^^^^^
Morigan sat in the tree she had subconsciously claimed as her own, praying and thinking, until dawn loomed and she went back to bed, dreaming of a place where she would be accepted.
******