Post by mystique on Nov 13, 2007 16:25:15 GMT -5
Mystique rose from her bed. It was a Saturday and she had no reason to get up at 5:30 except it was habit. Wiping sleep from her eyes, she went to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee.
Outside, she heard a group of snot-nosed sapien children chanting and skipping rope. They wouldn't have felt so safe on that sidewalk if they knew who's house this was.
Mutant terrorist. Murderer. She'd been called many things and most of them were true. Mystique stirred her coffee, feeling oddly sentimental.
Ah for the good old days, when she was young and unburdened by decades of memories. Three children - that she'd acknowledged, by force or by affection - and her apartment was empty.
She pushed the cup away and stood up. She was never usually mopey on this day and she wasn't going to stay that way for long. Marching to a desk, she yanked the drawer open and pulled out a fresh piece of paper.
She smoothed it and located a pen. Like she had for years, she wrote a brief message.
Dear Kurt,
Today is your birthday. It is true you cause me much grief in the brief time I knew you as a child and you have caused me plenty of inconvenience and frustration over the years.
However, I look at you son and I remember my own youth. I was never as positive and irrepressibly cheery. But I was blue and I never matched the rest of the world's inhabitants.
One day, I may have to kill you.
Mystique stopped. Was that too harsh? She did want to leave him with a record of some of her affection - as stilted and wilted as it was.
She erased it.
I do not expect we shall ever have a normal relationship, son. I expect we will live forever hating the sight of the other. Such is the lines between X-Man and Brotherhood.
Still, it is your birthday. And everything considered, I am glad you are alive and that you are impacting the world with your faith and your strength. Even if it does cause me difficulties.
Your Mother
Raven Darkholme
She folded the letter and set it in the stack with the others. One day, she'd get the courage to send them.
Mystique went to the bedroom and dressed. She had things to do today - assassinations to plan, bombs to build...
Outside, she heard a group of snot-nosed sapien children chanting and skipping rope. They wouldn't have felt so safe on that sidewalk if they knew who's house this was.
Mutant terrorist. Murderer. She'd been called many things and most of them were true. Mystique stirred her coffee, feeling oddly sentimental.
Ah for the good old days, when she was young and unburdened by decades of memories. Three children - that she'd acknowledged, by force or by affection - and her apartment was empty.
She pushed the cup away and stood up. She was never usually mopey on this day and she wasn't going to stay that way for long. Marching to a desk, she yanked the drawer open and pulled out a fresh piece of paper.
She smoothed it and located a pen. Like she had for years, she wrote a brief message.
Dear Kurt,
Today is your birthday. It is true you cause me much grief in the brief time I knew you as a child and you have caused me plenty of inconvenience and frustration over the years.
However, I look at you son and I remember my own youth. I was never as positive and irrepressibly cheery. But I was blue and I never matched the rest of the world's inhabitants.
One day, I may have to kill you.
Mystique stopped. Was that too harsh? She did want to leave him with a record of some of her affection - as stilted and wilted as it was.
She erased it.
I do not expect we shall ever have a normal relationship, son. I expect we will live forever hating the sight of the other. Such is the lines between X-Man and Brotherhood.
Still, it is your birthday. And everything considered, I am glad you are alive and that you are impacting the world with your faith and your strength. Even if it does cause me difficulties.
Your Mother
Raven Darkholme
She folded the letter and set it in the stack with the others. One day, she'd get the courage to send them.
Mystique went to the bedroom and dressed. She had things to do today - assassinations to plan, bombs to build...