Author's Note: This is basically a rewrite of an older MCU OC fanfiction I tried transferring from Amino onto here. I rewrote major parts of the character, including the timeline and relationships. This is more centered around the comics than the films now, and I even gave my OC a new superhero name entirely. Again, the timelines of the comics and certain events are completely out of order and flipped all around, but I don't think that will hinder the story or characters in any way. I barely know how to work this website and I'm kinda frustrated with it, but I'm trying my best and would love any feedback for what I have right now. Thanks loves.

East Germany, December 3rd, 1963. In a house on the outskirts of the city of Leipzig. A mutant was born in a small brick house, on the frigid hard-wood floor of the living room. The first child of the Barnick's. The child was born Neve, a seemingly normal and healthy baby girl. As years passed and she grew, darkened spots of golden brown peppered her cheeks, and once small eyes with pupils as wide as a doe's grew into huge hazel spheres of colorful russet and evergreen. Her petite body, almost doll-like, was perfect for ballet, according to Neve's mother, Rita. Franz, Neve's father, would always fret when Neve would run off into their small garden in her plaid midi skirt and grey blouse, her wavy auburn hair in pigtails. But Neve was not as weak-willed as her overprotective father believed; each scrape on the knee or bruise upon the forearm was follow by brave, stubborn confidence. She was a tough cookie, that was certain in her mind.

The first instance in which her powers first came to fruition was in the early summer of 1969, when Neve was only six years old. A bubbly, babbling child, with a fascination for flowers. Rita kept a complex garden, despite the cramped space of their plot of land. A flush of pink roses, rows of blood red carnations, and a rainbow of dahlias littered the inside décor as well as the yard. The smell of the earthy, velvet stems and petals, coupled with the buzzing of plump bumblebees made Neve feel warm, as though wrapped in her mother's gentle arms being surrounded by Rita's bouncing wave of chocolate curls. But the most fascinating of these flowers was the Helleborus niger, what her mother called the Christmas rose, though it was no rose at all. It came in an array of lovely colors: cloudy white, cerise pink, and a dark eggplant violet that filled Neve with childish curiosity. They were the only flowers to bloom in winter. Rita always set to planting the seeds in spring, and Neve would delight in watching them bloom when the winter begam; Rita called Neve her little Christmas rose, as she too had bloomed in winter.

That fateful day, Neve stared at the bush of the little flowers. They had lasted quite long time this particular year, barely wilting by the time a new batch would need to be planted. The flowers were a dark maroon with white speckles this year, and they reminded Neve of herself. Freckled and pretty, born from the first flake of snow too. Even Neve's name had meant "snow" in Latin, something her father had taught her. Neve wished she had friends, children her age, as the flowers had each other; bushels of six or seven all together, connected through branches with pokey thorns. Neve wanted her own companions, but her parents hesitated at the idea of her leaving the home. Of course, she was still young, not even of age to begin attending school yet, but the loneliness still stung. Stung like how bees sting. Neve wondered if the thorns of the bush she gazed on was like a bee stinger. They were sharp, like a stinger, but the flowers were so delicate. How could such pain come from a place that held such frail beauty? She brushed a finger lightly against one of the spikes, and it tore her finger open, blood spurting out at an alarming rate.

It was animalistic. Fear made no sense in this situation, yet it was there. Pain. Pain caused fear, the pain as the blood gushed down the side of her finger. Neve quickly scurried away, clutching her little finger, and rushing towards the home crying out for her mother. Her ankle buckled and twisted sharply, causing her to trip and fall. Neve sobbed as the pain of her leg began to set in. Her cries for her mother went unheard and trying to get up was equally horrible. The first feeling of true helplessness. The overwhelming, overstimulating feelings and thoughts racing through her mind. She had been holding back a scream, heaving hard to prevent it from coming out; she could not cause her parents too much fret. It all came out at once. Suddenly, azure, and artic lights streamed out of the tips of her fingers, as the heat building up in her gut and the ravaging of her vocal cords nearly caused her to choke. The light shot from the center of Neve's hands, charring the grass in front of her and nearly burning a set of bushes in front of her. The lights had shot out in an uncontrollable wave of squiggles. Neve's nose was filled with a burning scent, disgusting and horrifying her. She kept crying out for her mother, begging for someone. Anyone.

Franz was first outside, rushing to his daughter's side and pulling her away from the charred grass, lifting her into his arms. His worst fear had come true. Neve, too, was a mutant like him. Franz, of course, had struggled to explain to Neve her great powers. They were far different from his own, which was the simple manipulation of radiation energy. Neve would rip the energy from her own body. The build up of physical energy and metabolism, the strain of her mental and emotional state, pushing out in the form of burning cyan streams of light and heat, like lasers from her hands. Her metabolism, enhanced past the normal human capacity, and her connection with her own mental and emotional energy fields gave her extra space to use her ability. The first incident had pronounced her veins on her fingers, scarring them with a bright blue burn. Franz's horrible, painful burden had now become his daughter's. His guilt and his fear were immeasurable.

Neve hid her powers well as she grew. Controlling her emotions, keeping herself in check in public. When she went to school, she attached to teachers and kind peers to calm any outburst. For a short while, life felt normal. But more incidents had become evident, whispers spread around town. Terrorism ravaged Germany, east and west, and the Barnick's paranoia soon boiled over. On May 18, 1972, Neve was kept inside the home, her parents antsy from recent car bombings by radical political groups and whispers of underground Soviet and Nazi regimes.

"We can't stay here Franz!" Rita cried frantically, pacing around the kitchen, "What will they do to my child when they found out about her?" Franz stood in front of Rita, resting his clenched fist on the coffee table. His eyes traveled from his cup of black coffee to his daughter, who was blissfully sipping on milk at the kitchen table, unaware of her parents' discussion but aware of the tension in the air. She did not intervene in their adult conversation, rather staring distractedly at a fly buzzing about the walls. He sighed, rubbing his throbbing temple.

"And where will we go Rita?" Franz asked solemnly, "Who can we turn to now that would protect us? Have you ever met someone else like me who hasn't been killed? Who hasn't been taken away and used? There is no kindness for people like me. Those spies are everywhere...even if we could run, they'd follow..." Rita quivered and buried her face in her hands, silently weeping.

"What are we-"

BOOM!

Outside the ground rumbled and the horizon was set ablaze with flames. Windows were broken, glass smashed to pieces, and the tables and chair of the Barnick house were violently thrown against the walls. Cupboards had burst open in violent splinters, vases and picture frames crashed on the floor. Neve was flung violently off her seat and onto the ground, her parents blown off their feet by the force of the explosion. Franz cried out in pain as he hit the ground; his ankle had twisted all the way around, and he couldn't bring himself to his feet once more. Rita was in shock, laying on the ground, her hair frazzled, her forearms bleeding from scraping on the glass-ridden floor. Neve whimper and tried to bring herself up to her knees, the veins of her arms already sporting a bright cyan.

"F-Franz...Franz!" Rita cried, pulling herself up to try and grab her child and husband. Franz clutched his leg in agony and breathed sharply.

"Take her!" Franz yelled, "Take her and go!" Rita immediately tried to protest.

"Without you?! But-"

"GO!" Franz hollered, his eyes full of a solemn anger. Rita's blood pumped as she quickly lifted herself up and snatched Neve off the ground, carrying her out the back door of the house and sprinting towards the back woods that littered the land in small spurts. If she just kept running she could make it to Leipzig...she knew she could. The weight of her child pulled down on her. Neve was far too heavy at this point to carry. But the adrenaline pushed Rita forward, further into the woods. The gun shots rang out and swished between the wooded trees. Rita could only hope Franz was okay...

The more Rita ran, the harder her heart pounded, and she eventually collapsed weakly onto the warm grass of an open clearing. Neve sobbed against Rita's chest, and Rita's eyes clouded over with exhaustion. They could here the footsteps and the clacking of guns drawing near. Rita muttered a prayer under her breath; she had given up on religion long ago, but the pleas that Maria the Holy Mother could save her soul brought her a moment of comfort. She cradled her child tightly as she sensed the men approaching.

Though the men approached slowly, their blood lust could not be halted. As soon as they knew Rita was not much of a threat, they tore Neve from her motherly grasp. Neve screamed and Rita wailed in agony; an ugly type of cry only a mother could produce from her lungs. Neve was dragged from her mother, a collar placed on her neck. As the child struggled an electric shock was sent through her frail body, and the pain subdued her.

"Momma!" the child cried helplessly as the men dragged her away. Her mother weakly sobbed and begged for mercy from the men, one gripping her long hair while another pointed a gun at her forehead. Just as she sucked in a breath to calm herself a little BANG!

Her body went limp. The masked figure holding her hair let go, and Rita's body fell to the ground. Neve stared at the sight in shock and produced an ear-piercing screech from the deep confines of her stomach. It was unholy. The cyan blue stream of light shone from her hands and in an instant, the beams of energy shoot from her hands, flying wildly. The force of the blast knocked the men dragging her away off their feet. The flimsy metal shock collar busted, flying wildly off of her neck. The man that had shot Rita was hit with the fiery blue blast in the chest. In an instant his chest was obliterated and his body sent flying across the clearing and into a strong oak tree. The man was dead before his body even struck the wood. Bits of blue sparked all across Neve's body and she screamed as she let out a blast towards the other man that had helped kill her mother. The man tried to run and duck but the laser was too fast, hitting him in his back. He let out a cry as his body was seared by the beam. The man fell to the ground, his mask falling off to reveal the horrific face of death on the man, his brown eyes agape and clouded over. The power had grown too much for Neve, and her body fell limply to the floor, tears flowing from her eyes and her body hot to the touch. She was completely unconscious. And the remaining men carried her away.

~~~

Locals had called in reports of screaming from the woods on the outskirts of Baiserbronn within Germany's famous Dark Forest in early May of 1982. Smoke had erupted and filled the sky with black clouds of ash. When the local authorities investigated they discovered a lone building engulfed in flames and falling apart at the seams.

It took hours for the fire to get under control, and when it was safe enough to look into, they discovered remnants of an orphanage and dance academy. The exclusive and mysterious Blumenbeet Academy. Few locals could attend the supposedly prestigious school, as many who did attend were rumored to be rich foreigners. Though it was said only the most elite attend the academy, few were seen. They were all mysterious, but as was such with the incredibly wealthy. However, it also worked as an orphanage for young teen women and children; the most forgotten and abandoned of them all. The academy shaped young orphaned girls into loving caregivers, intelligent workers, and above all, incredible dancers. The teen girls attended classes with their wealthy peers upon reaching a certain age and also took care of the younger children present. All girls that came there, stayed there through their studies, but the orphaned boys were often transferred to an equally prestigious sister school of Blumenbeet, though no one could point to where it was located nor what it was called.

But some didn't believe in the flowery dance schools of art and wealth with pitiful orphans. No, many conspiracies arose about the school. Tall tales about the kidnappings of children who were forced to train. For what, no one knew. Some guesses protesting radicals, the underground KGB, and other such dissenters.

The authorities searched through the ashes though most things had been destroyed. All rooms covered in dark black soot and destroyed remnants of what was. All except one: the records room. Of course, the authorities searched for what they could; there were no bodies or sign of bodies so many wondered about the staff, students, and orphans. Had they all perished in the blaze? Did they try to run? Where did they go?

But what they found was far more sinister. All the information they had gathered was handed over to higher powers of government; an organization that specialized in cases with special beings, and another that dealt with supernatural threats to global security. Though both had primarily focused their missions in America, this case was different.

The Blumenbeet Academy has been conducting certain experiments. They did educate and take care of children, but their girls were trained in more than dance. Turns out that whatever, or rather whoever, they were experimenting on had escaped, nearly taking the whole school down. Most of the others had escaped to a new school...another underground hell hole of death, torture, and violence. The Blumenbeet Academy was an organization that needed to be stopped, that much was known by the two governmental agencies handling the case of the Basierbronn fire. What the agencies didn't know was that the experiment had arrived on their doorstep, the shores of Westchester, New York.