A/n: okay so this chapter is about the most boring of them all, but it introduces the new characters and how they became mutants. Please R&R! A writer can't write without feedback!
Chapter One: New Beginnings
Los Angeles – 1994
A set of blueberry eyes stared out at the majestic Los Angeles coastline, while patiently waiting for her mother to return. Jolie Xavier was a short girl of only five years whose legs dangled a good foot and a half off the ground from the hospital bed she was currently sitting upon. After an hour of playing with her long relentless locks of curly blonde hair, she decided to find some other way to keep herself entertained.
Outside the door, her mother argued with the doctor. This was the third time Jolie was in a hospital in the past two weeks. She complained of having extreme headaches and pain throughout her body. Her mother feared her daughter was severely ill... or worse insane, so she brought her in for medical attention as soon as she could get off from work.
Hello Jolie... you've exceeded my expectations. I hadn't imagined your mutation would appear at so young an age.
Jolie squirmed in her seat as the voice returned once again to haunt her thoughts. The voice belonged to an older man; it held a low resonance and sounded powerful, yet gentle at the same time. She had heard the voice before, and knew that it belonged to her estranged grandfather, but could not understand why it continued to torment her.
Jolie, it's time you come with me. I can help you... teach you how to control your power. These people can't help you. They don't understand you... they fear you Jolie. Come with me...
"STOP!" she screamed to the voice, unaware of her sudden outburst, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
Her mother flung the door open, rushing over to her daughter and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Jo? Honey, it's okay... you're alright." her mother tried her best to calm her flailing daughter, but was of no avail.
You know she must come with me... The voice spoke to the mid-thirties woman.
She answered him with her thoughts, Dad...?
I can help her... she can't stay with these people. She needs to learn control...
Not everyone wants to be controlled Daddy.
It was your choice to stay on your own, but do you really think your five year old daughter will be able to survive?
Don't do this to me, she's just a child.
Yes, she is a child... if her life means anything to you you'll let her go.
"Jo... Jolie?" her mother's voice faded to a decibel hardly able to be heard by the human ear as her daughter's body began blurring out of focus like a television in a bad thunderstorm.
Jolie screamed with sheer terror at the new feeling that spread through her body. Her molecules began to heat themselves as if being cooked on some imaginary furnace before disappearing altogether. She heard her parents speaking of strange behavior like this over dinner, but she never believed something so extraordinary could happen to her. A new feeling of absolute amazement spread through her body as she disappeared with a "Poomf" and reappeared on the other side of the door.
The doctor's eyes opened wide with a mixture of shock, astonishment, and fear. Seeing his reaction, her mother quickly took her daughter's hand and ran to the nearest exit and out into the blinding sun.
Help her please...
Jolie studied her mother's face one last time as they climbed into the car before sleep overcame her.
It was the last time she would see her mother.
X X X X
Kenya – 1996
It had started as a simple childish game under the blistering sun of the African desert. Among the village children was a seven year old girl with waist length cocoa colored hair and sparkling gray eyes. Her name was Dasha, and currently her team was losing the game by a large margin. The objective was simple, everyone would hide and two people, one from each team, would have to find all the people on the other team before their opponent. She had always been the youngest child in the village, the last one chosen, and the slowest runner. She lost every round she was the "seeker" and never chose any good places to hide.
She recalled her mother's best friend Ororo telling her that she had very similar problems when she was a small child. Ororo was possibly the only person she could talk to, other than the older servant girls that worked alongside her; however, Ororo's annual visits to her old village eventually ceased. She had become an X-man, a term Dasha never completely understood, and she had more important responsibilities in the United States.
Caught daydreaming yet again, Dasha's team quickly lost the round of play. The others on her team were clearly upset with her. They had tried several times to remove her from their games, but their parents insisted they let her play.
"Dasha, how could you? We've lost another round thanks to you!" an older boy screamed at her.
"I'm sorry," she replied, her body shaking slightly from the sound of the boy's harsh words.
"What's wrong Dasha? You going to cry?"
"You're such a little baby!"
Their belittling words overwhelmed her, and she eventually collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she openly sobbed.
The other children only found this a greater opportunity to sting her with their vile words. They laughed and pointed their fingers at her, as she continued to cry. She buried her head in her arms in a failed attempt to block their faces from her view. Their actions suddenly became more painful as a single stone hit her square in between her two shoulder blades. The impact made her scream in pain as the pointed edge struck against her bare chocolate skin. Their assault continued with more vigor as she felt anger and pain corse through her body.
As soon as it begun, the rocks stopped hitting her and the sound of hushed whispers filled her ears. She peered up at the older children, meeting terrified eyes. She wondered what they were staring at and looked down at her hands, only to find them illuminated by a white light.
She stood up, facing her adversaries with a newly found confidence as her feet slowly lifted off the ground. The light around her seemed to spread outward, touching the shoulders and faces of those around her. Her body felt like a balloon ready to burst at any point. It was a feeling she had never experienced in all her life.
And just like that she became invisible.
X X X X
New York City – 1997
Mahogany Worthington was seven when she first beheld the sight of her brother standing in front of the bathroom mirror with a leather harness that held down two white feathered wings. She stood in awe and approached him silently lifting a hand to feel the smooth texture of the soft feathers. He was five years older than her and although they were close, had never mentioned the wings. With a gentle gesture, she reached forward to unclasp on of the straps that held the wings securely to his body.Her brother Warren did nothing to stop her actions, and she continued unfastening the belted leather.
As she moved to open the last clasp her brother grabbed her hand in protest, but she had already opened it.
"Mahogany!"he screamed as his wings unfolded, revealing a majestic wingspan of almost ten feet.
"I'm sorry!"
In the same fraction of a second, her father came bursting through the door"Mahogany, what have you done?" he grabbed her brother and pulled his wings into the harness, tightening the straps once again and pushing the boy into the hallway.
She bent down to pick up a few white feathers that had fallen from the struggle and rose to glance at herself in the mirror. The same blonde-haired, stormy-eyed girl looked her back in the face; however, as she was about to leave, she noticed something foreign. Something black was beginning to jut from her enlarged shoulder blades.
Feathers.
X X X X
Greece – 1999
The hallway was filled with white walls and poorly lit overhead fluorescent lights, and to nine year old Cordelia smelt of antiseptics and death itself. Her short stocky legs tapped impatiently against the spotted tile floors.
He was late again.
Cordelia had given up on her father. Hank McCoy had often chosen his government position over his commitment to his family. Her mother Victoria had given him everything he had asked for; she even went through the painful moving process when it had to be done.
And now here she was in Delphi, Greece with her aunt and uncle beside her on a hospital bench, gentling holding on to her hands and praying for a miracle. They told her her mother had been in an accident, but Cordelia knew the truth; her mother was dying... attached to machines that kept her alive, but would never speak to her again.
She ran a nervous hand through her long hair that always appeared a darker violet hue, rather than a natural black. Silver eyes searched expectantly for any sign of life, but the hallway was empty, echoing only with her silent tears.
Part of her refused to believe that such a horrible tragedy could happen to the person she held most dear. It was unfair her mother should suffer such a horrid fate... that Cordelia herself should have such a horrid fate. What would happen to her now that she had lost the only person in her life? What would become of her? Would she suffer the same fate?
At the end of the hallway, a woman slowly approached. Pain was written all over her face, she knew what was coming. Tears spilled uncontrollably from her two piercing metal eyes as a rush of icy coldness spread through her entire body. Her mind raced a mile a minute and suddenly the world had opened up to her, like Pandora's Box spilling its demons out into the world.
Through the door at the end of the hallway she saw the doctors pull the plug on the machines as the heart monitor beeped showing a straight line. She was gone. The sound of her mother's last breath rang through her ears like a bullet. Then the hospital came to life, sounds of machines, patients in pain, doctors fighting to save their lives, and their loved ones crying. They were floors away, walls away from her, yet she heard the sound of everyone of them.
It became too much for her to handle as she doubled over in pain clutching her ears and screaming as loud as she could in an attempt to block out the noise. She was of no avail. The sound rang in her ears, a noisy fire alarm echoing forever, until blackness finally took over her senses.
X X X X
New York City- 2000
Chloe Darkholme stared out a pair of French doors as a cab pulled up at the end of the driveway. If only she had known that her mother was leaving with the intention of never returning, she would have flung her five foot ten frame in front of the car door. At the age of only twelve, Chloe had matured faster than her mother could have imagined.
She had brown hair that barely reached her chin and a pair of blue eyes the shade of her mother's skin when natural and not undercover. Raven Darkholme, or Mystique as she preferred to be called, was a mutant and had been for over half of her life. With the ability to transform into any other human or mutant at her will, she had spent the years of her daughter's childhood disguised as a woman who had once been a teacher to her. Troubled by the overwhelming feeling of keeping herself hidden from her servants, family, and others she came in contact with, her emotions eventually became too much for even her to handle. Like a ruptured dam she could not stand to be hidden any longer. If the world could not accept what she was, so be it.
And just like that she left.
There was something different about the way she had said goodbye, and Chloe sensed it. In fact, it ripped through her, eating away at the part of her heart that was dedicated only for her mother, the part of her that made her feel loved, wanted, and completed. And now like a flash of lighting crackling through the sky... it was gone.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to simply fall to the ground and curse the world for allowing her mother to so willingly leave her behind. What in the world was she supposed to do now?
Anger surged through her like a hydroelectric power plant, energy coursing through her entire body. Unaware of the nature's toll on her body, the servants stopped in their tracks to stare at the wonder that was enfolding before their eyes.
Chloe heard the sound of a glass breaking, pulling herself out of her reverie. It was then that she noticed the stares of those around her. They formed a circle, knit tightly around her. She was a caged animal with no way of escape.
The picking sensation creeping up her spine caused her to look down at her lower limbs. Before her eyes, her shoes had begun to disappear and were replaced instead with a set of two golden feet, the color of her mothers eyes. But it did not stop there, in fact the golden color spread over her, giving her a feeling of skin peeling off due to being badly sunburned.
She wanted to scream; however, this new feeling was something too great, too entirely amazing for her to pull away from. She turned to glance at one of the servant girls slightly younger than herself with gleaming gray eyes.
The younger girl approached the newly golden coated Chloe Darkholme without a moment's hesitation.
"I know where we can be safe."
X X X X
South Carolina – 2001
Fourteen hours.
Fourteen hours she had lain in that bed, while doctors and nurses prodded her body with needles, drawing blood, measuring her blood pressure, her pulse and she was sick of it. Twelve year old Ashlyn Cassidy had never experienced a birthday as horridly boring as this one. It was a beautiful April day and after almost a week of rain showers, she wished for nothing more than to be outside playing amongst the other girls her age.
Her foster mother was nothing like the other traditionally Southern ladies in her neighborhood; growing up in Chicago, Caroline Cassidy handled things the politically correct way. While the other mothers made their own remedies to cure their children, the Cassidy girls found themselves inside the doctor's office the instant she suspected something was wrong.
Ashlyn was a pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders in little ringlets and viewed the world through two striking blue eyes that reflected the color of the Mediterranean Sea. She had always had a fascination with water, and since her adoption spent every minute of her free time in the cool waters of the South Carolina coast.
She sighed heavily so the doctors would notice and twiddled her thumbs impatiently.
"Are we almost done?" she asked, in a tone that showed others that she meant business even at an age of twelve.
"Darlin' we need ta send this blood to the lab, but don't you be worryin' we'll get ya out of here in no time."
That's exactly what you said an hour ago! Her mind screamed, wondering if this was some form of cruel and unusual punishment.
By the time the doctors had finished their "mandatory procedures," Ashlyn had been at the doctors for over sixteen hours. Obviously they had found something, which caused her stomach to flip-flop. She shook the thought from her head and stood up, only to come tumbling down face first into the cold tile floor.
She awoke to a pale yellow overhead light, and realized that she was in the emergency room. To her right, she saw her mother's sleeping form. Though she could not see her face under her frizzy red curls, Ashlyn knew she was far beyond worried.
"Mom?"
"Oh Ashlyn honey! I'd hoped you'd be wakin' soon. Gave me quite a scare missy."
"What happened?"
"You fainted from the blood loss... I warned ya not to stand up to fast!"
"Are we still going to dinner?"
"What are you talkin' about sweetie?"
"For my birthday..."
"Honey... it's the eleventh...you've been out for three days..."
"What?"
Silence filled the room to the point where breathing sounded like a bomb exploding.
"What's wrong with me?"
"It's nothin'."
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?"
"Ashlyn... you have leukemia..."
The four syllable word grasped her, and for a moment it felt as if her esophagus was being squeezed closed. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, though she used all her strength to keep reality at bay. She did not want to accept what her mother had just said; she did not want the pain to be real.
And at the same time she wished the ocean would cry for her; she wished the water would rise above her, swirling as a waterspout of pain and sorrow. To her astonishment she heard the faucet beside her bed turn on, pouring its contents all over the floor. She outstretched her hand palm out toward the crystal clear water, in an inviting action almost as if she was calling it to her.
She felt a single drop hit her palm.
To her surprise the spray changed direction, twisting at an impossible angle toward her pale skinned palm. She expected to be hit with the force of the liquid, but it never touched her. Instead it circled around her like a rain cloud, floating above her head.
Her mother's cry for help never registered to her ears. She was too fascinated by her power to listen to the world around her. It was until she felt a needle prick in her arm and an overwhelming fatigue did she recall the events that had just occurred.
She felt reborn; she had mutated.
X X X X
Mississippi – 2002
It was the summer before Stasia turned thirteen; the heat was at a record high when she returned home from camp in the Appalachian Mountains. She grabbed her luggage off the train and ran over to the familiar man waiting to greet her.
His name was Ted Keller and for as long as she could remember he had lived next door to her family. He was the brother she never had, and for the past month and a half, she had missed him terribly.
"Teddy!" she exclaimed, as her frizzly black hair bounced on her shoulders.
"Hey stranger! What've those Yankees done to ya hair darlin'?" he asked, reaching forward to touch a strand of her newly done silver highlights.
"Hey! I kinda like it." The sound of her smooth Southern accent returned to her voice as she picked up her bags and threw them in the back of the truck.
She took a seat beside him on the passenger side pulling oversized sunglasses on to hide her cocoa eyes. He turned on the country music and they were on their way with nothing but the cool breeze flowing by them.
Finally, she smiled, it's good to be home.
"So how's everyone been? Mama and Papa survivin' without me?"
"Surprisingly, I believe they're doin' betta with out ya little sweet ass naggin' em 'bout everythang."
"Well I thank ya for that... how's Marie?"
Marie was four years older than her and about to begin her senior year of high school. They were extremely close, and Stasia feared what life would be like without her constantly beside her. When Ted did not respond, she faced him, curiosity flanking her expression.
"What's wrong? Did somethin' happen to Marie? Is she alright?"
"Stasia honey... she left..."
"Left? What do ya mean she left?"
"Stasia ran away..."
"What? Why?"
"She's a... a..."
"What?"
"She's a mutant..."
"Is... is she comin' back?"
"Darlin' I don't think she's eva comin' back..."
Stasia did not cry; she was literally incapable of doing so. Her bad ass persona simply did not allow it, yet now she wanted to scream. How could her sister, the one and only person she could ever depend on just leave her? Didn't she matter at all?
Ted cut the engine as they pulled into the driveway.
"It'll be okay Stasia..."
"No it won't!"
"Stasia!" he reached for her hand, but she quickly yanked it away.
"Don't touch me!"
By now her parents had realized she arrived and were coming to greet her. They seemed so happy, too happy for parents who had lost their oldest daughter.
"Stasia, will you just talk to me!" he grabbed her hand before she had a chance to let go, and as soon as it happened, his entire body froze.
Stasia was bewildered. All she did was touch him and it was as if he had suddenly turned into a popsicle; his mouth still formed the shape of the vowel "e." Energy crackled at her fingertips and all she could do was scream.
What have I done?
X X X X
Germany – 2004
Hans Volker had never been the prime example of a good husband, so naturally when the time came around he was not the best of fathers either. His wife left him for another man after only four years of marriage, leaving him alone with a toddler to raise. Having a drunken father did not give Nadine a great person to look up to. Her life as a child was hard, disciplined, but she had learned a great deal about taking care of yourself by yourself. In fact, in many cases she had acted more like a parent over the course of fifteen years than her father had.
Growing up on the Eastern side of Berlin shortly after the fall of the Berlin Wall had not been easy. Riots and evil men who terrorized her as a young child were found frequently throughout the areas of the streets she called home. She would learn though, and would pick herself up and dry the tears from her crystalline blue eyes.
Despite her father's alcoholic lifestyle, there were times when he would stroke her wispy dark hair and she realized he did indeed love her. On the days he was sober and unaffected by a nasty hangover, he was actually a charming man. They'd go out to the Beckerei and have some ice cream, discussing her school life and what her plans were that week. She seemed to be the only one who could see past the haze of whiskey his heart was surrounded by. She knew he would never leave her, never let her down... that is until November rolled around.
She watched from the apartment window, tears streaming down her peaches and cream complection and mixing with the darkness of her hair. Two men held on to either of his shoulders as handcuffs were slapped onto his wrists. This time it was real; this time there would be no next time... he was really gone. Over the pounding of her beating heart, she hardly heard the social service worker approach her.
She felt the woman's warm palm on her shoulder and turned around, eyes wide and fierce.
"Don't touch me!"
"My name is Brigitte Lehmann... I've come to help you."
"Gehen Sie raus!" her thick Northern German accent laced within each syllable as she screamed for the woman to leave her alone.
"Nadine, please come with me!"
"Ich hasse dich! Gehen Sie raus!"
Despite her pleas to be left alone, the woman would not leave. Again she cried out, "Leave me alone!" but the woman did not waver. So she screamed with everything that was left inside of her, "Gehen Sie raus!"
The woman's face paled and she immediately ran out the door. For years she would tell herself the words she screamed before the woman left were spoken, but she knew the truth.
She had been inside the woman's mind, and now she would be alone.
X X X X
Brazil – 2005
Deep in the heart of South America, a fifteen year old girl with long blonde hair and green eyes was on her way to her first ever international soccer camp. Pilar Rasputin was a natural athlete and drop dead gorgeous. With tanned skin, high cheek bones, a sweet smile, and a small dusting of freckles, she was every boy's fantasy. She laughed with the other girls on the bus as they sang Spanish songs they had learned from the Spanish girls at the first day of their orientation. She had been waiting all her life for an opportunity like this, and she was not about to waste it.
The first two weeks ran smoothly. She made new friends in her assigned cabin and got a workout from the days of long exercises. It was a Saturday night, which meant free time in the city which for every girl at the camp spelled out one thing; shopping. She ran of with two of her bunkmates Caty and Denise toward a small corner shop they had grown quite fond of when she got the call.
Most teenage girls her age were going through the stage where they absolutely hated their parents and did everything within their power to rebel against them, but Pilar had always been close to her parents, especially her father and enjoyed spending time with them. After her older brother Peter left, her parents were really the only people left in her life. She was a loner, without many friends and she was glad to have her parents to lean on.
Her world was tumbling down quickly, so fast it seemed to be sliding right through her fingers. Her parents were getting divorced. What caused this sudden change? Her parents were the perfect couple, and completely in love... at least Pilar had thought so. How could this be happening to her?
She burst through the doors out onto the street and hid in an abandoned corner. This was unreal. How could they to this to themselves? To their family? To her?
She let the tears slide down her face and realized through all her frustration her hands had begun to dematerialize. Her body fazed in and out at the speed of light, bouncing off the walls uncontrollably. People had begun to gather on the street, staring at her in disbelief. Her tears came at a faster rate as her body flew at an unimaginable speed. The last thing she remembered was the sound of a jet engine overhead before long arms wrapped around her.
A/N: well that's it for now... next chapter should be longer and features the X-Men and Brotherhood's attempts to capture the most powerful mutant. Please R&R! The next chapter will be up later in the week! Evelien