Second chapter up and running! Yay!
I've really got to learn how to not get distracted with all the pretty fanfics and actually get around to writing this stupid thing...
I do not own X-men in any way, shape, or form.
Still, all dialogue is in German unless otherwise stated. I do not have the patience to translate entire conversations on bablefish.
On the same note, I am not responsible for any mangled German. Blame the site, please.
::waves a crudely made Kurty bobblehead around:: Lookie what I made at camp! I'm not obsessed, really!
Broken Past, New Future
Kurt curled up beneath a tree, cold, wet, exhausted and lost. He was still in Germany, as far as he knew, but the weeks of travel had become a blur.
Groaning, the boy turned over to stare at the dark canopy of clouds, ignoring the sharp prick of raindrops on his face. He blinked, his vision graying at the edges and the world around him spinning. He didn't really care; the world was more interesting from that perspective.
A twig somewhere cracked, and Nightcrawler's superior hearing informed him that it was not made by some small forest creature.
He was on his feet and halfway up a tree before he had time to think. Somehow, in the short time since leaving the circus, the blue-furred child developed a trait very few in his position could boast of: the will to live. It pushed him on, as it did now, to run, hide, beg, or steal. Whatever to keep himself alive.
He prayed for God's forgiveness whenever he committed a sin.
Attaching himself to a low branch, he watched with glowing eyes as two small figures walked out of the nearby woods.
"...over here, he said. Er. I think." The voice belonged to a boy, certainly, and he had a strange accent Kurt had never heard before. American, maybe.
"I don't see why it should be our job, even if it's a kid." This one was female, although one with an abnormally deep voice.
"Well, there are so few of us. It'd be nice if there was someone else to talk to besides a cynical girl-brat like you."
"Halt die Schnauze [Shut up]! Besides, the Älteste [Elders] probably just sent us off 'cause they think we're annoying. There's no one out here."
Kurt shifted uncomfortably. His legs were falling asleep from gripping the branch and his vision began to blur again. Verdammen [Damn], but he was exhausted!
Lightning flashed and thunder sounded so close that Kurt nearly fell out of the tree. Then he caught a glimpse of the two below him and really did fall.
The boy had a thick, lizard-like tail. The girl had hooves. They both turned and stared at his startled yelp.
Blackness followed.
**~**
The elven mutant woke up some unknown amount of time later, dry and warm. Very warm. In fact, it felt as if a wood stove was heating the small room. Looking around for the source of the almost-uncomfortable heat, Kurt noticed a boy lying belly-down on the floor in a spread-eagled position and snoring.
Kurt blinked, then confirmed that said boy was indeed covered in red, orange, and black scales; sported a large tail that looked like it belonged on an alligator (~the boy from the forest, then~ thought Kurt); and had a messy black mane of hair extending a good ways down his spine. He was also emitting visible heat waves.
Shaking his head to clear it, the blue German made his way across the thin straw pallet he had woken up on and stared out a small window.
The town outside was overrun with flora and fauna of all kinds from the nearby woods. More than half of the residences were caved in, and several were burnt to a state charcoal would be proud of. In all of his life of travel, Kurt Wagner had never seen a more literal example of a ghost town.
"Like it?"
Spinning around gracefully, he narrowed his eyes at the owner of the vaguely familiar, cynical voice.
She was about a foot taller than he was with pale skin, blue eyes, and blond hair. Her hands were strangely misshapen; they appeared child-like and had short, stubby fingers even though she was quite obviously in her mid-teens.
A similarly short, stubby tail poked out from the back of her oversized jeans and he glimsed familiar hooves beneath them as well.
"Do you even talk?" she walked forwards and held out a hand. "I'm formally Ghost of Christmas Past, but Ghost does fine."
That got his attention "Ghost of Christmas Past? I'm sorry meine Freundin [my friend (f)], ich verstehe nicht [I don't understand]."
"You do talk. After some book by an English-speaking author. Called 'A Christmas Carol' or so I'm told." Giving up on ever recieving a handshake, she walked over to the unconcious boy and kicked him roughly "Oy, Fever you Ruck [jerk], wake up"
"Ya don' hafta kick me," he grumbled as he sat up and glared. "Did all th' introducing without me?"
"Not all. Blue kid! What's your name?"
Throughout all this, Kurt was sitting with his mouth hanging open in a cute, if rather comical, expression of confusion. He snapped it shut when he realized they were talking to him. "Who, er, me? Uh. Kurt. Kurt Wagner."
"Right. Kurt, Fever. He heats stuff up. And that," she pointed to a slight girl that Kurt hadn't noticed until that very moment, "is Marie. We call her Angel, though. Not quite sure why."
She was unremarkable, except for the white bangs. She was maybe a year or so younger than Kurt himself, and was staring avidly at a spot on the wall with a small frown on her young face.
"You got anywhere to go, Fuzzball?"
He shook his head.
"Then welcome to Die Passenden Stücke [The Misfits]. We're your new family."
I've really got to learn how to not get distracted with all the pretty fanfics and actually get around to writing this stupid thing...
I do not own X-men in any way, shape, or form.
Still, all dialogue is in German unless otherwise stated. I do not have the patience to translate entire conversations on bablefish.
On the same note, I am not responsible for any mangled German. Blame the site, please.
::waves a crudely made Kurty bobblehead around:: Lookie what I made at camp! I'm not obsessed, really!
Broken Past, New Future
Kurt curled up beneath a tree, cold, wet, exhausted and lost. He was still in Germany, as far as he knew, but the weeks of travel had become a blur.
Groaning, the boy turned over to stare at the dark canopy of clouds, ignoring the sharp prick of raindrops on his face. He blinked, his vision graying at the edges and the world around him spinning. He didn't really care; the world was more interesting from that perspective.
A twig somewhere cracked, and Nightcrawler's superior hearing informed him that it was not made by some small forest creature.
He was on his feet and halfway up a tree before he had time to think. Somehow, in the short time since leaving the circus, the blue-furred child developed a trait very few in his position could boast of: the will to live. It pushed him on, as it did now, to run, hide, beg, or steal. Whatever to keep himself alive.
He prayed for God's forgiveness whenever he committed a sin.
Attaching himself to a low branch, he watched with glowing eyes as two small figures walked out of the nearby woods.
"...over here, he said. Er. I think." The voice belonged to a boy, certainly, and he had a strange accent Kurt had never heard before. American, maybe.
"I don't see why it should be our job, even if it's a kid." This one was female, although one with an abnormally deep voice.
"Well, there are so few of us. It'd be nice if there was someone else to talk to besides a cynical girl-brat like you."
"Halt die Schnauze [Shut up]! Besides, the Älteste [Elders] probably just sent us off 'cause they think we're annoying. There's no one out here."
Kurt shifted uncomfortably. His legs were falling asleep from gripping the branch and his vision began to blur again. Verdammen [Damn], but he was exhausted!
Lightning flashed and thunder sounded so close that Kurt nearly fell out of the tree. Then he caught a glimpse of the two below him and really did fall.
The boy had a thick, lizard-like tail. The girl had hooves. They both turned and stared at his startled yelp.
Blackness followed.
**~**
The elven mutant woke up some unknown amount of time later, dry and warm. Very warm. In fact, it felt as if a wood stove was heating the small room. Looking around for the source of the almost-uncomfortable heat, Kurt noticed a boy lying belly-down on the floor in a spread-eagled position and snoring.
Kurt blinked, then confirmed that said boy was indeed covered in red, orange, and black scales; sported a large tail that looked like it belonged on an alligator (~the boy from the forest, then~ thought Kurt); and had a messy black mane of hair extending a good ways down his spine. He was also emitting visible heat waves.
Shaking his head to clear it, the blue German made his way across the thin straw pallet he had woken up on and stared out a small window.
The town outside was overrun with flora and fauna of all kinds from the nearby woods. More than half of the residences were caved in, and several were burnt to a state charcoal would be proud of. In all of his life of travel, Kurt Wagner had never seen a more literal example of a ghost town.
"Like it?"
Spinning around gracefully, he narrowed his eyes at the owner of the vaguely familiar, cynical voice.
She was about a foot taller than he was with pale skin, blue eyes, and blond hair. Her hands were strangely misshapen; they appeared child-like and had short, stubby fingers even though she was quite obviously in her mid-teens.
A similarly short, stubby tail poked out from the back of her oversized jeans and he glimsed familiar hooves beneath them as well.
"Do you even talk?" she walked forwards and held out a hand. "I'm formally Ghost of Christmas Past, but Ghost does fine."
That got his attention "Ghost of Christmas Past? I'm sorry meine Freundin [my friend (f)], ich verstehe nicht [I don't understand]."
"You do talk. After some book by an English-speaking author. Called 'A Christmas Carol' or so I'm told." Giving up on ever recieving a handshake, she walked over to the unconcious boy and kicked him roughly "Oy, Fever you Ruck [jerk], wake up"
"Ya don' hafta kick me," he grumbled as he sat up and glared. "Did all th' introducing without me?"
"Not all. Blue kid! What's your name?"
Throughout all this, Kurt was sitting with his mouth hanging open in a cute, if rather comical, expression of confusion. He snapped it shut when he realized they were talking to him. "Who, er, me? Uh. Kurt. Kurt Wagner."
"Right. Kurt, Fever. He heats stuff up. And that," she pointed to a slight girl that Kurt hadn't noticed until that very moment, "is Marie. We call her Angel, though. Not quite sure why."
She was unremarkable, except for the white bangs. She was maybe a year or so younger than Kurt himself, and was staring avidly at a spot on the wall with a small frown on her young face.
"You got anywhere to go, Fuzzball?"
He shook his head.
"Then welcome to Die Passenden Stücke [The Misfits]. We're your new family."