Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, unless strictly stated. I also will be taking a creative spin on some of the powers, familial connections ties between characters, and so forth. Any similarities to other works, peoples, and events are purely coincidental unless stated otherwise.
Rating is due to acts of violence and language, as well as mentions of torture and/or death. This will be the only warning, as the story is rated M already for these themes.
Covington, Kentucky 1967
A Café outside the Portside Manor
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Raven Darkholme had seen her share of atrocities, the manifestation of her mutation rendering her the constant target of abuse and ridicule in her younger years. Her father had called her a spawn of the devil - her mother swore she was an angel.
In the end, they were both wrong.
As she gazed at her watch, she sneered at the memories the thought of them dredged up.
Useless.
Decades had passed and yet, the taint of their beliefs clung to her. Sure, she could change herself - shift into anyone she desired... and yet, the baggage of their memories remained.
Useless.
If only she had rid herself of the memories of her past during her last mission, as they did that oaf Wolverine and the ever suspicious Silver Fox, maybe she would have been better off. But she needed her memories- all of them - to find the child. The child would make the pains of the past worth it, and would make the pain of her heart whole.
"Raven?" a melodic voice sounded, pulling her out of her inner spiraling. "What are you doing here?"
Raven grinned, pleased that she had been recognized even while in a different form. For one as unassuming as Irene, she was quite a force to be reckoned with.
"Irene," she greeted. "I came as soon as I received your message. We have much to discuss."
After Irene had first reached out to her, the two of them had quickly built a friendship and gradually worked together to steer the future towards the one that had had the least amount of casualties - for both human and mutant. Raven still didn't really think much of normal humans, but she understood that to Irene (with her husband and child, both of whom were normal) it meant saving them. As a mother herself, she understood the sentiment. It was also why meeting Irene was such a blessing: she had leads on where the child could be.
"Irene, take a seat and have tea with me, tell me what you've discovered."
She watched as Irene seemed to hesitate, her face contorting before settling on a grimace and her heart froze.
"Have you seen something else?"
Irene, though hestiant, nodded.
Alarms were going off in her mind as Irene still refused to sit, a clear indication that she was agitated.
"It can't be as bad as the diaries, can it? Surely you've seen all there is to see?"
"I- I'm not sure anymore, what of my diaries will still come to pass, and what may have changed."
Raven felt her brows furrow, remembering that Irene had quite a varied collection of diaries. They each changed and intersected at different points, but they had all been quite straightforward: A war was coming. Whether it be connected to the wars past, or even the one currently taking place, she and Irene had teamed up to infiltrate various organizations in hopes to directing their inevitable future towards the one with the least amount of casualties.
Many a successful redirection was done so in the shadows, under the radar so to speak, and neither woman had found any co-conspirators trustworthy enough to continue fostering a relation with after completing an assignment.
Still, if Irene had seen something to spook her so horribly, it must be a new future that appeared due to their meddling... and her reaction did not bode well for the future.
Slowly, her heart roaring in her ears, Raven walked around the small café table and gripped her friends shoulders with trembling hands.
"Tell me, Irene. What did you see?"
Instead, Irene gazed unseeing at her and shakily asked, "Raven, do you know? You're with child?"
Undisclosed Location, Same Year
1400 Club
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Victor Creed was in a foul mood. He had had enough of the twisted, debauched plans of the one he now knew as Mystique. She had played him twice, and if she tried for a third, he'd slice her pretty little head right off of her pretty little neck. He hated himself even more than he hated her though, because as far as debauchery goes, she made it so easy to get lost in the throes of it.
The bitch.
"Creed, the boss will see you now."
Victor's foul mood lightened at the thought of seeing his mentor - the only man worth a grain of salt these days - the Foreigner.
"Victor," a gravelly voice greeted him as he entered the posh sitting room. "It has been too long. Come, sit and drink with me. You must tell me what you have been up to."
"Not much," Victor flashed his teeth as he made his way over and took a seat across the swarthy man. "Met a lady, then left a lady. You know how it is." He ended his banal update with a raised brow, thinking this was all just formality. The man across from him knew exactly what he'd been up to.
A smirk gave Victor the confirmation to his suspicions: his mentor knew everything. This was most likely his mentors way of showing courtesy for his protégé.
A lesser man would have been touched and let his guard down. Victor's guard rose instead.
The Foreigner probably kept a constant watch on him the moment he had left the orginization. Though it irked Victor that he had kept tabs on him, he was more so impressed that his teacher's informant(s) were so subtle, Victor couldn't place who they were. He had his suspicions, but everyone in his line of work was cause for caution.
"How is that little raven of yours?" the Foreigner interrupted his inner musings. "Has she flown far enough that you no longer sniff around for her scent?"
Victor sneered at the mention of the cunt. He hadn't caught her actual name - the two times they'd crossed paths she had been using an alias, and the last... they had been more preoccupied with other more pleasurable things to have introduced themselves properly. Still, he doubted she'd have given anything but an alias, with her frantically searching for that child.
Which brought him here, back to his mentor.
"The bird flew away, just as birds do," he gruffly replied. "But the little bird did drop an egg - lost a little chick a while back."
"A chick, you say?"
"Powerful chirp that hatchling got, so I've heard. Chirps could put you in a trance... steal your soul."
"Marvelous," the Foreigner muttered. "To think such a rare hatchling could be born from such a bird." A reverent whisper of, "Fascinating," escaped as he mused on the potential.
"It's why I'm here," Victor revealed. "I heard my old friends at Stryker's may have the chick."
The Foreigner scoffed at the name, Stryker. An imbecile who played at a level he should not be allowed.
"How did that infantile lunatic get a hold of such a rare chick?"
He could not understand how an undeserving fool had such good luck: meeting the right people when he did, entering and gaining the right positions... the thought of it all made him very irate. But the fact that Stryker of all people had discovered such a gem, and had been able to keep even his people from finding out made the Foreigner absolutely livid.
"Dunno," Victor shrugged. "But I had hoped you had information on either him, or the child... but I guess you wouldn't even know if the child in question was a boy or girl."
"Victor," the Foreigner said lowly in warning. "Do not try to use the same tactics I taught you against me. You are neither subtle nor discreet."
Victor merely held up his hands in an exaggerated offering of peace, before retorting with a smirk.
"All I'm implying is that whatever they're doing with the chick has been extremely well hidden," he leaned forward towards his mentor so that he could be sure that they two were the only ones to hear that next part of information.
"Even with the project I had been recruited for, there were whispers of what had been - and would be - transpiring. It's also why you most likely lost tabs on me at some point, until rumors of my striking appearance resurfaced."
The Foreigner had a greedy gleam in his eyes that told Victor what he already knew.
"Weapon X," came a hushed whisper. "So it has begun."