1963-06-20 - All Are Welcome
Summary: Matt Murdock has an encounter with a strange, teleporting creature hiding out in his church.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
daredevil nightcrawler 

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

The shaded glasses only do so much to hide the shiner on Matt Murdock's left eye. Fortunately, the Priest will only be able to see the right side of his face, what little of it might be seen through the latticework separating them.

"Tell me, child."

"I… hurt someone."

"Did they deserve it?"

A long pause.


Some minutes later, the doorway into the confessional opens. Murdock steps out, cane stretched out before him, and begins tapping it from side to side as he makes for the line of pews and the aisle way leading between them. The echoing of cane upon marble bounces around the ancient sanctuary, creating a pleasing sort of sound, one that soothes the lawyer's troubled spirit while his feet carry him closer and closer to the altar.


The church might smell a little different for someone who is sensitive to such things. There's still the scent of incense, of burning candles, of communion wafers and wine. There is, however, a faint scent of sulfur. Or brimstone. Something that doesn't seem like it would belong in a Holy place like this. There's also some shadowy movement in the upper balcony of the nave. Glowing eyes, watching.


The blind man pauses before reaching his preferred place, three rows back from the front. Approximately ten seats down the pew is the 'best seat in the house', as for acoustics go. Matt has had years to determine that fact, and yes, this is a matter of fact, not opinion.

His nostrils flare for a moment, and his head turns just so. Indeed, he cannot see a thing with his natural eyes, but there is motion in the air. A quiet breathing that only he and the breather can hear.

The blind man turns and slips down the pew, using his hand against the smooth oak to keep his place. He sits down with some awkwardness, and rests his cane against the woodwork before him. There he sits, eyes forward, his back ramrod straight, and waits.


Few people look up. Few people ever look up. It one thing that Kurt has learned. They only look up when they're told to do so and this doesn't seem to be the place for blatant theatrics. He'll just take the more subtle version. The shadow is crouched on the bannister of the balcony, ertucked up against the corner and a column. He's not exactly hiding, but he's also not exactly expecting to be noticed.

Especially not by a blind man.

He's noticed, sitting in the pew, not seeming to say any prayers. Maybe he's meditating?


"You can come down, now,"Matt says after a long while, long after the Priest has left the box and returned to his chambers. His head doesn't move an inch, his voice aimed toward the front of the church, but it seems clear he knows that he's speaking to the main upstairs. "No sense hiding up there."


Nightcrawler gives a start at the voice and looks around to see whomelse he might be talking to. There seems to be no one else in the church though. He's obviously not very good at sneaking if a blind man can notice him. Checking that no one else seems to be coming into the Church and the Priest has gone, he teleports away from his corner and over to the pew where the other is sitting.

That must be the source of the brimstone smell.

"Are you going to tell on me?" is asked, his voice holding a strong German accent.


There comes a subtle jerk of his head when Kurt teleports down. Now there is a sound Matt Murdock has never heard before, and it fascinates him. Much more than the smell. The smell, well, that only confirms so much.

"German?" he asks after a spell. "Yes, most certainly German. No, my friend, I've no interest in telling on a man who's simply hiding in a church."

A curious expression comes over the blind man's face, and he turns to face Kurt but not directly. His gaze seems to be looking just past the teleporter. "Have you…" A slightly crestfallen smile comes to his face "…done something? Something worth hiding for?"


Nightcrawler tilts his head as the blind man guesses his nationality, but it's not hard. "Nein, I did not…" Kurt starts to answer but then gives a sigh. "I have. Some. I took some food from their kitchen. I gave them money for it!" he insists before glancing about. He's still a bit twitchy. "I am hiding because I don't want to be killed. I thought it was better in America. I guess it is not."


"Because you're-" Matt pauses, as if rethinking his words. "You're one of them. Is that right?" A long sigh escapes his nose, and he sits back in his seat, face turning toward the candle-lit altar with a long expression.

"Is it obvious?" he asks, with a voice that is quiet and friendly. "I would assume so, if you are hiding. It's my understanding that some of the mutants look no different than everyone else."


"It is an ugly word, do you know that?" Kurt points out. "I don't entirely know what it means but it does not sound like a good thing. I guess it isn't." Notwith all that's happened in regards to them.

When asked about his own difference, he can't help but grin, despite the fact that the man next to him is blind, "It is very obvious. I was famous for it in Europe. I think people thought it was a costume anyhow." The grin then fades. "There was too much shooting and screams. I knew it would be safe here." He just has nowhere to go.


"Why not?" Matt can't help but laugh a little. "I mean, that's what you are, isn't it?" He shakes his head. "It's not some racial slur, a vulgar word, it's a genetic mutation. It is, by definition, what you are. Is it an ugly thing that I'm a blind man?" He turns just slightly, eyebrows raised.

However, talk of the slaughter draws his mood to a far more somber place. "I've known Father Tolbert for a long time, friend. I don't think he would take issue. This is a safe place."


Nightcrawler straightens and looks at the blind man, "I am a person. Like you. The word is used to talk of people who are so different that others are afraid of them. How can that not be an ugly word?" When asked about the other's blindness, he tilts his head, "No, it is not ugly that you are blind. It is who you are. Do people hate you for it? Are they afraid of you because you are blind?"

He stands and paces a couple of steps, "The Priester here seems very nice, but…if people are killing people because of people like me, it would be bad to put him in danger."


"Yes, yes, I see your point," Matt answers. "But you're talking about what other people think. Other people think we should bomb the Russians because they don't operate the same form of government as we do. Others think black men shouldn't be treated the same as us, because their skin pigmentation is different. That doesn't hold a damn thing to what you think. What Father Tolbert thinks."

He nods his head toward the crucifix far ahead. "You think it matters to what He thinks?"

Matt turns to look more toward Nightcrawler when he stands and begins to pace. "He is in danger every day," he answers bluntly. "This is Hell's Kitchen, friend. This parish is the only place where Irish and Italian will step foot in the same room without pumping each other full of lead. Believe me; most of the people in this neighborhood won't give a damn about your unique talents."


Nightcrawler follows Matt's gesture to look at the crucifix as well. "He does not care. I know this." He doesn't burn or even sizzle when he steps into a house of Worship. Despite his demonic appearance, he isn't seen as a demon by God. It's definitely something.

"This is Hell's Kitchen?" There's a slight laugh at that, "I have been looking for it for some time! I know someone here! I have been trying to find him…" He then looks back to Matt, "You are saying that if I walked outside, I would not be stared at? People would not run from me?" And another chuckle, "Ah…I suppose you would not know."


"Then you truly do understand Him," answers Matt.

The blind man rises, reaching for his cane. Once it is in hand, he slips from the pew to join Nightcrawler in the aisle way.

"Well, I would take your word for it," he answers. "I'm not saying that you wouldn't be. What I'm saying is, well… I suppose… it's what you keep in here-" He puts a hand to his chest. "-that matters."

Matt removes the hand from his chest and offers it to the other. "I'm Matt Murdock. Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law."


"I always try to understand Him," Kurt offers quietly. He takes a couple of steps back as Matt moves to join him in the aisle. "I agree with you, but I do not think that others do. Maybe some." Like at that school.

Theoffered hand gets a pause as he looks to it. He finally takes it, his own hand shaped quite oddly. Certainly not a 'human' hand. "Kurt Wagner. It is good to meet you, Herr Murdock. I am sorry if I frightened you."


Matt's head angles just so at the touch of the clearly different hand. He seems transfixed by it for a moment, before a quiet laugh escapes his lips. "Different. But, not bad."

Following the handshake, the lawyer gestures around with his eyes. "You will find people who accept you for who you are. When you do? Keep them close to you, Mister Wagner. In the meanwhile…"

He steps back, lowers his cane to the ground, and taps it to the right. "I must speak with Father Tolbert about making sure there is a place for you to sleep here. And food." His free hand rises to snap his fingers twice. "Definitely food."

The cane taps from side to side as he moves back up the aisle. "You're safe here, Mister Wagner. That means something."

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