1963-07-23 - A Story of You: Pt 2
Summary: Raven answers questions surrounding Kurt's birth.
Related: [http://marvel1963mush.wikidot.com/log:1963-07-22-a-story-of-you-pt-1]
Theme Song: None
nightcrawler raven 

There was quite a bit of silence as Raven settles down upon the cushions of the couch, her blue feet lightly tapping upon the ground as the bottle of bourbon hangs in between her fingers. She clears her throat, leaning forward to pour herself another glass. Kurt would have no more, just one. Work would have to wait, for this story is long as she could tell it. The story of him.

"Before I tell you this, I trust you would keep this in between us. My part. Not yours. If you find that you need to discuss where you came from and how you came to be.." She pauses for a moment, pursing her lips. "Freundschaft. I hope you have that with the person you speak to."

There was another moment of silence as she takes a sip, never looking to him directly.

"You would have been French." She states with a smile. "A child of war you are but you would have been French." She leans back then, and prepares to regal a tale. "It is where I met your father. Or someone that could have been. The details I am unsure of. I did have a number of torrid romances back then and they all were.. tragic at best." She looks to him then, studying him.

"But it during the last vestiges of the Syrian Revolt. While that war has ended for France in 1927, there were still groups that needed to be apprehended by the goverment agencies of France and brought to justice. I was apart of a team that sought out the insurgents to quell any talks of war, by apprension or otherwise. Mind you, war never settles. There are still lingering forces that try to bring about a new revolution long after it has ended. It may not have been the best work. But it was work."


"I would never tell your story to someone else," Kurt offers quietly, still nursing his first and only drink. He may amend his decision to drink more, but he's playing that by ear. As for telling anyone else his part of the story, it depends. He never figured that he'd ever hear this story so he never really thought about who he might discuss it with.

He pulls his legs up to sit, cross-legged, on the couch, his tail wrapped some around the armrest in anxiety.

"Franzoesich?" is offered with a grin. That could have been interesting. Maybe better, maybe worse. "So you do not know who my father is?" It's not…unsurprising, oddly enough. Not that she had the many romances, but it really only seems fitting. If he would have written his own story, it probably would have gone along those lines as well.


Raven nods, with that agreement in place, she felt somewhat at ease enough to continue on with the tale.

"Da. Franzoesich, vollblud. At least where it comes to your origns and not genetik. But I surmise that I've met your father during those times, as I had a few suitors and comrades that I've kept for a long time after and up until your birth."

"It was my hope that it was a single man, but judging by your outward appearance and your particular set of gifts, that is not the case. In which I should be grateful, the man.. while doting, caring, and very protective.. has a very dangerous demeanor and anger that could have harmed us both. But even still, I would have considered keeping you then." She muses faintly.

"It was with him that I found out that I was withchild with you. And it was him that managed to tear me away from the governmental organization long enough for me to be considered fluchtling." She pauses a half second. "Fugitive." Her yellow eyes for half a moment showed a hint of amusement. "Imagine my surprise when I found out that he too, resides with my brother. The Professor."


Nightcrawler is quiet as she talks, listening. His brows crease when she mentions that she would have kept him if he came out looking like the one of her lovers, but he obviously didn't. At least, that was his interpretation and something he may bring up later. When she mentions The Professor again, he tilts his head, "Your brother thinks you are maybe only thirty Jahren. Thirty years. Too young to have me. This other man did not recognize you when you found him there?"

He might be confused about the timeline and maybe even some of the players involved.


"Mm. The question of my age never really came up. I fit myself to live with our family. We were but children. So yes it's naturally assume to age myself where it concerned him and our parents." Her jaw tenses slightly, then she slowly nods. "Yes. He recognized me." She turns to him then, one leg planted upon the seat of the couch, her arm resting upon the back of it as she explains. "The man is a mutant in his own right. He had claws made of bone that revealed themselves between his fingers. And he had an uncanny sense of smell. One that rivaled any and all hunters that were mutants that I've ever seen."

She frowns at this, then continues. "No matter what form I take, that man can sniff me out. It is rumored then.. that the great Arthur Conan Doyle considered him to be the original Hound of Baskervilles." She grins. "But as his due, it seems he's taken to protecting the place. Warned me to stay away." There was a little bitter laugh then, as she takes her drink.


"Ah! I saw that movie," Kurt grins. Maybe he even read some of the stories. There was a lot of downtime in the Circus and he was always very curious. Books seemed a natural way to try and keep him out of trouble. Try.

"So this man…warned you to stay away from the home and Herr Professor Xavier, your brother." He has it now. "And this was the man you hoped was my father?" He's got the timeline now and those players.

He lifts his glass to take another sip of the whiskey, "I knew that was a place to hide…" is said into the liquor.


Raven grins completely, then drowns her glass of the bourbon. After it was emptied, she leans forward to place the glass upon the table, finished for now. "It was a lovely story." She states, then continues. "Yes. I did. And I hope that somewhere deep down, he wishes that you were his as well. The last few months he protected me and fought off the villagers the night that you were born."

She shakes her head faintly, her hand lowering to rub at her lids after her eyes close. "But it's a projection. Wishful thinking. He is a good man still."

"That wasn't our dream for the place. A place to hide. We considered it a safe haven and a sanctuary to all mutants. A place to learn, legally. To earn their diplomas and life lessons as well as to hone their gifts. To afford them the same opportunities as every other child unlike them and to ensure that they're productive citizens of any world or city they call home. An institute of morals, as he would call it." She smiles fondly, remembering her brother.

"Though, some do come there to hide. To unburden themselves of their troubles. To learn to keep themselves wrapped up, or to learn to control themselves until they are comfortable enough for society." She leans forward to pour another drink. "Though, my brother is an enigmatic sort. He pushes people to be their best selves, to give back. And often times, those people never leave because they wish to pass on the gift of learning to others who were once in their position."


"With a temper," Kurt points out. He listens, noting the slight change of subject, but he was the one who brought it up. "I never went to school, I think, for that. My mutter…she taught me some until…" until. "After, the soldiers taught me some und then the people with the Circus taught me. I can read and write and do the math I need." He shrugs. "I am not working to be a lawyer or a Doktor." He feels just fine with his current level of education. "Maybe if there was a place when I was younger, I would have gone there." But he didn't.

Falling quiet, he waits for Raven to continue, maybe to pick up where she left off.


"Da. A temper." Raven confirms, shifting away to face forward, her hand moving to tangle with the bandages that keep her arm still. "That would have been the best place for you, yes. If it were around at the time of your birth. But what are you doing? It appears as if you're a staple to this community and.. it seems slightly easier for you."

She leaves that alone for now, leaving the silence where it was. Her hand reaching out for the glass now, considering.. then withdrawing. There was a tenseness that soon comes over her, not one to talk of her feelings in front of strangers. It was a proven fact. Even if he was her son.. he was still a stranger.

"A week before you were born, Logan and I were traveling towards a small town to seek refuge. And to this day, I will never know why or possibly understand how they found us. It was as if all ends and points were converging down upon us and we were running out of places to hide. A rebel and his band of men looking for revenge. The local government who caught word that Logan and I were in their vicinity.. and a small faction of others who managed to suss out my identity as a mutant through happenstance."

"It was our week of terror.." Her voice trails off, her bottom lip a half tremble as she takes a breath, then reaches forward to give another pour of her drink. She wanted to get drunk. Being drunk allowed her the freedom of speech about a story that only two people knew.


"In Germany," Kurt clarifies. Otherwise he would be French, ja? As for what he's doing now, that's for later. Now, he wants to hear the proof that she's his mother. The story is interesting, to be certain, but he's still not entirely sure of the actual -proof-. Even if he could confirm it with this 'Logan'…

He moves to intercept the bottle and offer to pour it for her.

"I aplm sorry you saw that. Germany was not…I do not have many good memories of the place. Even when we spent some time in West Germany, it was very difficult for me."


"Mmh. Right on the outskirts of.." She pauses for a moment, her eyes staring upright. "..Bavaria. Logan had a contact there in that small town, who practiced as a midwife for the town. Among.. other things." Abortions. It was something that was untold and something that she would not bring up. The woman was a culler of the unborn, and she wasn't exactly a favorite among the locals.

"Previous men and women that I would have called brothers and sisters descended upon us. Men and woman who I would call lovers. Logan and I have countlessly saved their lives in the heat of battle and yet they did not spare us any moment of peace."

The drink was poured, and she lifts the glass to take a deep swill, her eyes closing faintly. "At one point, Logan stashed me away in a barn so that he could take on the few who caught up to us. I could hear their bodies smack against each other and the screams and cries of the men and women he took apart. Logan.." She flinches a little at the memory. "..returned to us with his throat nearly slit. And for hours we were trapped in that hiding spot until he was healed and ready to depart."


Nightcrawler continues to watch and listen in silence, his head tilting as her story is reminiscent of another story of a pregnant woman turned away and spurned. He's not entirely sure if the comparison is intentional or not. "He healed?" That's something interesting to know for later. "Why? If they knew you, why did they attack?" In 1937 Bavaria. They would be in the same despised group as the others, driven away from their homes and into Ghettos. So he was told.


"Mmhmm. Logan is a mutant far older than I. Truth be told, I met him when I was an actual young girl. No more than twelve. But that is one story I do believe he's forgotten. When we were partnered together during our time, it seems as if he had forgotten that long, old memory." There was too much to say, too many lives she's lived.

"But yes. One could even say that the man is an immortal. He never seems to age and if he does, it's at a very, very slow rate compared to us. Also, his healing factor is schnell. One scratch, healed in a matter of seconds. He's durable."

The question of why causes her lips to terse. "Remember when I've said that we've escaped the French government? We went AWOL. There were things that happened during our missions that we were not privy to, and it happened because of mutants. So we turned on them and ran." She waves her hand faintly. It was a bitter story indeed.


Her explanation brings a frown but he nods, understanding. It's like something out of a story or a spy novel. "I am sorry," is offered quietly. He's still sort of waiting for some indisputable proof. "So," if this story is true, "You did not want to keep me because it would not be safe? Because they were chasing you? So it would be safer to leave me on the side of the road in Bavaria?"


"Don't be."

"It would not have been safe. No." Raven reluctantly shakes her head, "And the life I was headed towards was not something suitable for a kind." Her hand lifts to rub harshly at the back of her neck, standing upright as she stalks her way towards the window to look out. "I've only held you for five minutes before I left you there. And I waited and watched." She did not say what happened to Logan, that in itself was fucked up and it was all her fault. Even worse? It was done intentionally.


Kurt sets his own glass down and pulls his knees up to his chest to hug. "Und then a caravan of Roma came by and they heard me crying." He was told that part of the story. It at least matches up what he was told. There's something to that. "When Margali found me, then you left?" To an unknown fate? He got lucky in that the Roma woman and the group were willing to keep and raise him instead of leave him or kill him outright.


"No." She said quietly.

A group of young children passed by her window, tossing the ball back and forth until it skitters out of view due to a missed chance of being caught. The children laugh and run out of view as well, which has Raven turning back to the young man, her face stoic. "The caravan sat for a few hours while they figured out what to do with you. They were all of the mind that you needed to be protected, which I hoped for." She frowns slightly. "I don't know if anyone else had any objections, but you took to your mother as she marveled on your fingers and toes."


"I did not know that," Kurt offers quietly. Maybe it's made up, maybe it's something Margali didn't feel he needed to know at his young age. He looks at his own fingers and toes, both exposed as shoes and gloves are hard to fit. "They were good people," is finally offered after a moment's silence. "Margali was a wonderful mother." It's not meant to be accusatory, just a statement. A rather sad one as he's presumed that she didn't make it out of the Camps.

"You watched them for those hours? And you did not show yourself?"


"There are some psychics that could remember the time when they've first taken a breath. Be glad that it is something that you do not remember." She frowns. "Well, on the other hand.. the entire union was very sweet. Liebenswert." She grins faintly, then stalks towards him to settle down upon the couch with a flop. "Yes. I watched. And I did not show myself. There was a.." She didn't know how to explain it.

"A moment where I felt that I was wrong. When I should have marched right up to them to take you from their arms. When I should have said that it was me and you against the rest of the world.." Perhaps then, she'd like and appreciate herself more.

"But to keep you, I've realized then.. would have been selfish. You would have been alone. And I was certain that if I did, that I wouldn't have left Germany. And we both would have been hunted worse than the likes of anyone has ever seen." Her hand touches her face, rubbing along her cheeks. "I would have disappointed you. Yet the least I could do was send whatever I could to the woman who raised you through Logan's old channels before they collapsed. But I was far gone a few years after and living a life that I thought I was deserving of."


It's a good story. Is it the truth? Kurt can't tell. It would be so easy to just believe it but Xavier planted that seed of doubt in his mind that he can't easily dig out. "Maybe we would have been. But you can become anyone. Maybe you could have taken us away." They won't know though, will they?

"You sent things to Margali?" While she could? Again, it was something Kurt didn't know.

"Everyone deserves a good life. No one should feel that they must live a life that is hard or…dangerous." At least, that's the presumption he's making from the way she talks about it. "Did you ever wonder what happened? When you heard what they did there?"


"I could become anyone. But you?" She reaches over, lightly poking his knee. "If you can change shapes, let me know."

She draws in a breath, then leans back against the couch again, slightly tired of the conversation. "Money. Yes. Though I'm sure that she wouldn't have known where it came from."

She shakes her head slightly, then frowns. "I've heard what happened. But there was always hope in the back of my mind that you'd be forever protected and safe." She shakes her head. "Like now. I assume that this will be the last time we speak. It needs to be this way. Part of the reason why I attempted to sway you to return to Germany. People around me die. Or.. well.. eventually come to hate who I am and want to kill me. Eventually you'll fall on either side of that. But you deserve to know at least a little bit of truth."


Nightcrawler looks to his knee as it's poked and he gives a brief smile, "Nein. I cannot. I can go places quickly," but he wasn't able to do that when he was younger. His tail taps some on the armrest as he listens and thinks about her warning and her request that they never speak again. Finally, he offers a simple:


As clarification, he offers, "I lived through that and I will not let someone else tell me that I will die or that I will hate them. But if you do not -wish- to speak with me again, I will try to respect that." Yellow eyes look to his empty glass before he unfurls and gets to his feet.


"Stubborn." Mystique coos softly, "..possibly just like one of your could-be fathers." It was a horrible joke. Mystique was never really known for her comedic timing, but as Kurt stands.. so does she.

That was a question or at least a request that she never thought she'd hear. There wasn't a chance she could start again. She lacked that motherly empathy most of them come as soon as a baby pops from the womb. But.. she would like to know him. Follow him in silence. Guard over him when he is not looking.

"I'll see you Monday."


"Ja, I have to be. I'm German -and- Roma," Kurt grins widely, showing pointed, white teeth. "Do not even think to add that I lived in a Circus for the last eighteen years." He's about as stubborn as it gets in order to make sure he can have a life and not hide in a cave.

When Raven offers to see him Monday, he nods. The ball is in her court and she can decide what she does with it. Yellow eyes do blink at her a moment before he steps over to her and hold's out both hands for her's. He then leans in to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I am not angry. You did what you had to do."

"I forgive you."

It's his hope that maybe now she can forgive herself.


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