Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

I FIGURED OUT HOW TO PUT PICTURES UP!!!!

Image #1: Uncanny #169.

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Image #2: Uncanny #177.

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Image #3: (Thanks Rowena!)
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(desperately hoping these aren't too big...)

Now, without further ado....
Blood Runs Thicker Than Water
Act I: Die Junge Frau

Kurt slipped silently out into the night. He didn’t feel tired, and right now he needed a minute to slow down, to think over his life, and to decide what was so wrong. Climbing stealthily up from his window, he found his way to the top of the building.

It was quiet and breezy up here, just the way he liked it. His glowing yellow eyes looked like another pair of stars in the inky blackness. He looked out over the island landscape, still mostly a wreck, but getting better.

Kurt slowly pointed his eyes to the heavens. For hundreds of years, mankind had looked upward to find spiritual peace. The psalmist wrote “The heavens are telling the glory of God.” Jesus ascended by way of a cloud. Even most pagan religions had some kind of sun or sky worship.

Kurt felt lost and alone. He gently reached down to touch his rosary, which was resting in the pocket of his bathrobe. Part of him felt like praying, and yet another part felt that he couldn’t possibly.

Azazel had changed everything. His relationship with God, his relationship to other mutants, even his duties as an X-Man. Nothing made sense anymore—he had become the demon-priest, the mutant-spirit, the beast-man.

He rubbed his rosary gently between two large, thick fingers. How many times had he been lied to in the course of his life? How many more times could he handle those lies? It seemed that everyone who had ever known him had lied.

And the X-Men no longer stood for truth and justice and humanity. Now they were sulking children, dealing in falsehoods and secrecy, crying about their lost brethren, shutting themselves off from the rest of the world. Kurt sighed and wished he knew the words to pray.

As far as Azazel went, Kurt was extraordinarily confused. He didn’t know whether Azazel was demon or mutant. He didn’t know what having a demon father made him. There were some days when he felt certain his enigmatic father was a demon, and that he was doomed forever to hell. And then there were days when Azazel couldn’t possibly be a demon, when heaven was just in sight.

Today was one of the former days. Kurt began to weep as he thought about Azazel, about how he had been doomed to eternal death before he had even been born. Any thought of demons automatically brought up the thought of Mephisto. He had called Mephisto out, refused to stay out of the fight, and yet here he was, sitting on the roof of a building on an island specifically created so that he and the other X-Men could stay out of fights.

Kurt stood up suddenly, letting his bathrobe fall off. He stood naked before creation, before the stars, before his God.

“Jesus,” he said, whispering his desperate plea, “Give me a sign. Show me who my father really is, Lord. Let me know the truth, for once in my life.”

A wind whistled across his face and past his body. It was cool and clean and Kurt closed his eyes and raised his head, slowly lifting his arms. The tears were still coming down his cheeks and they felt cold on his fur, but he did not wipe them away.

A crash echoed across the dark night. Kurt turned towards it and knelt down, blending into the dark in a fluid motion. He saw a light in the building across from him, directly where he was looking, and he teleported just above it.

Kurt began to crawl slowly down the wall. There were voices and crashes from the inside. What could possibly be going on?

Just as he neared the window, there was another loud crash and the limp form of a young girl was thrust through the pane, sending shards of glass everywhere. Kurt reached out a hand for her, but she was too far away. In an instant, he had teleported to her.

She hit his chest with tremendous force. Kurt clasped her in his strong arms and caught a glimpse of the interior of the room she had fallen from. He teleported quickly into the room.

Kurt laid the girl down gently on the floor before he looked up. He was in the filing room, and to his great surprise, there stood his friends, Hank and Logan. “What happened?” he asked.

“She was trespassing.” Hank knelt down to her side and took a pulse. “She’s still alive, but these cuts could be rather serious. We should get her down to the hospice wing.”

“Wait a minute.” Logan stepped forward, all practicality. “This gal snuck in here in the dead of night and attempted to steal files. She needs to be secured.”

“She needs medical attention first,” was Hank’s reply as he stood up.

“What’s going on?” A sleepy, half-dressed Scott Summers wandered into the room.

“Intruder,” Logan said.

“She was hurt. She needs medical attention.”

Scott held up his hands. “All right. Let’s get her secured and then worry about medical attention. Kurt, can you take her to the detainment center?”

Kurt had not been listening to any of the conversation. He was staring down at the girl.

“Kurt? What’s wrong?”

Kurt, stilling crouching, lifted up the girl’s hand in his own. He looked down at it, and then up at his friends.

“Oh my stars and garters,” whispered Hank. Nobody else said anything.

Kurt grasped the girl’s hand, his own thick fingers and large thumb wrapping around a second set of large fingers and a thumb. They were identical, except for color and size. His hands were much larger. In his grip, the girl’s fingers looked delicate, white, and petite.

“How about you take her down to the hospice,” said Scott carefully.

Kurt picked the girl up in his arms and teleported.

*****

Kurt glanced up as Hank walked out of the room. Hank shook his head at him. “No,” he said, anticipating the question Kurt had asked every time he had walked by, “She’s not awake yet.”

Kurt looked through the window into the hospice wing, where she was still sleeping peacefully. Then he looked back down at his folded hands.

Who was this girl? Where had she come from? Why was she trying to steal files? Why did she have blue hair and three-fingered hands?

These questions were running around and around in Kurt’s mind without answers when suddenly Logan and Scott walked down the hall. He looked up at them, and they both stopped.

“You won’t believe this, Elf,” said Logan, “That kid was stealing your file.”

“Was?".

Scott nodded. “The only file in the whole room that has been disturbed is the one we have on you. And the part she was going through, the part that’s completely out of order, is the part that had information on your family in it.”

Hank came walking back down the hall. “What is it?” he asked. Scott quickly explained. “Why would she want that?” Hank wondered. All three of them looked down at Kurt.

Then Hank glanced through the window. “I think I can safely bring her to consciousness now without injuring her further. Perhaps now would be a good time for an interrogation.”

Scott nodded. “I want to know what she was up to.”

They entered the little hospice room. Hank took a syringe full of liquid and gave the girl the shot. “She’ll come around in about a minute,” he said, “If she doesn’t, I’ll give her a second dose.”

But the girl was already waking up, breathing more deeply with fluttering eyelashes. Suddenly her eyes flashed open, and they all stood around her bed.

“Who are you?” was Scott’s first question.

The girl didn’t even look at him. Her eyes were on Kurt the whole time. She pointed over to the blue furry mutant. “I’m Kurt's sister,” she said, “At least, I think.”

*****

:D Hope you'll enjoy my story. I think y'all can probably tell where this is going, but fortunately for me, this is the story I've wanted to write for a while.


[Edited on 10/10/09 by Dedicatedfollower467]

[Edited on 10/10/09 by Dedicatedfollower467]
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Elfdame »

Totally hooked. Keep it comin', Kid.
"Humanity is a parade of fools, and I am at the front of it, twirling a baton." From Chapter 9 of _Brother Odd_ by Dean Koontz / from Chapter 10: "Life you can evade; death you cannot."

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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Wish-I-Had-A-Tail »

=O cool! Waiting for the next installment :)

:bamf
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challenge

Post by BitterBamfing »

Wow nice start I can't wait for more.

[Edited on 12/10/09 by BitterBamfing]
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challenge

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

Thanks for all the encouragement, guys! It really makes my day when people say stuff like that!

*****

“Was?” Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Okay, okay,” the girl pushed herself up with her elbows, “Technically, half-sister. And like I said, I only think I’m your half-sister. I could be wrong. I’m pretty sure I’m right, but I might be wrong.”

Hank leaned over the bed. “What do you mean?”

The girl grinned, leaning back against the pillow. “My name is Lenna Wagner. My father is Erik Wagner, but I’m his daughter by his first wife. Naturally, if Kurt is my father’s son, like I suspect, then we’re half-siblings. But if this Azazel guy’s story is true, then we share no blood.”

Logan growled and leaned forward. “How do you know about Azazel?”

Lenna rolled her eyes. “The guy found out I was looking for Kurt, hunted me down, and told me if I continued looking for ‘his son’ he’d hurt me very badly. Told me it was a waste of my time, that Kurt was no relation of mine and that Mystique had been cheating on my father. I refused to believe him, and I’ve been looking for you.”

Kurt stared at her. “You have hands like mine,” he said.

Lenna grinned and held her right hand out to him. “Papi’s left hand is like this, too*,” she said, “Wagners have had weird hands for centuries. In the 1600s they had upwards of seven fingers, now we’ve been reduced to three. You’re not the first in the family to be accused of witchcraft and fraternizing with demons.”

Kurt couldn’t believe it. Here was a girl whose story contradicted what he had been told by Azazel. “I didn’t know Erik had a daughter.”

“By his first marriage,” Lenna said, “Papi and I ran away only a short while after Raven did, because the villagers had their suspicions about my father for a very long time. The way he inherited the baron’s estate. The way he always hid his left hand. The fact that his hair was blue. It made them suspicious.”

“I thought Erik Wagner died of a heart attack while hiking in Bavaria,” Scott said.

“Funny, isn’t it,” Lenna said, “How common that name is? There were at least ten Erik Wagners in Bavaria when that man died. There’s no description of the man at all. But I know that my story tallies with the story of Kurt Wagner and Raven Darkholme.”

“Then you knew Raven,” said Logan, “Would you have believed she was cheating on her husband with a demon?”

Lenna laughed out loud. “I wouldn’t have put anything past her. That woman was a head case. I don’t even know why Papi fell in love with her. She was unfaithful to the core.”

“Then Erik isn’t necessarily my father.” Kurt’s heart sank.

“I’m not sure there’s anybody who can tell you for sure who your father is,” Lenna said, “Not even Raven.”

“But you think Erik Wagner is.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Lenna laughed. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said, “But you look a lot like him.”

Kurt shook his head. Hank suddenly stood up. “You should be resting,” he told Lenna, “You can talk tomorrow. Everybody out.”

Kurt walked down the hallway. Something was roiling in the pit of his stomach, and it had nothing to do with his breakfast. Lenna had told him a story that was near impossible. But more than anything, he wanted to believe it. If she was right, if his father was not a mutant-demon but instead a slightly strange-looking human man, well then, things might be completely different.

Kurt thought back to his prayer last night. He had said it with Azazel in mind, wondering what being the son of a demon would mean. But instead, God had given him a new angle on the story, something that could completely change his whole outlook.

He still didn’t have any answers. If anything, he had even more questions than before. But maybe this time the questions would lead to the truth.

*****

*Okay, so I took some artistic liberties here... but this is a fan fiction, so it doesn't matter!
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Elfdame »

Very clever, having family with distinctive hands. Love it! Lots of families have genetic secrets that the youngsters and estranged members do not knot.

I bet neling is lickin' her chops over this one!
*Okay, so I took some artistic liberties here... but this is a fan fiction, so it doesn't matter!
Um, taking "artistic liberties" never seemed to bother the Marvel stable of writers, either, if ya think about it. :p

I'd love to write a spin-off/crossover where your gal would be kind of a Cinder-Lenna with Raven as the stepmother and Erik the absentee dad .... {slaps own hand} nahhh too much else to do.

I can barely *wait* for him decking ol' Mysty and seeing Erik .... gah, I'm about to drool with excitement!
"Humanity is a parade of fools, and I am at the front of it, twirling a baton." From Chapter 9 of _Brother Odd_ by Dean Koontz / from Chapter 10: "Life you can evade; death you cannot."

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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challenge

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

Ha! Elfdame, you totally got Lenna down pat. It's definitely a Cinder-Lenna story... only he starts paying attention to her when his wife is hunted down by villagers and his son apparently dies, not because of a prince charming and a fairy godmother.

Which will probably become a bit of a plot point towards the middle/end of the story. Kurt's apparent death and all.

Next installment is kinda short... I wrote it during Driver's Ed!

*****

Kurt squatted in his characteristic “gargoyle” position on the edge of the balcony. He still didn’t know what to think. Hank had barred him from the hospice wing, claiming that Lenna needed rest. So many questions still rattled around in his brain with no explanation.

“Kurt?”

He turned toward the voice. There she was, the girl he wanted to talk to so badly. Lenna smiled and walked over to him, leaning against the balcony.

“Hank let you out then?” Kurt asked.

“No,” Lenna said, “He wanted me to stay in bed longer. But I didn’t listen.”

Kurt looked back out over the water. So many, many questions to ask. How could he word them without being rude? Which should he ask first?

Lenna joined him in gazing out across the water. <It must be strange for you,> she said in flawless German, <To have so many different stories. You must have a million questions.*>

Kurt glanced at her. <I want to believe you. And there are so many tiny coincidences that it could be true. But Azazel could easily be telling the truth as well.>

<Since when do demons tell the truth?> Lenna’s rhetorical question hung in the air.

Kurt sighed. <I just want to know who or what my father is. Why is that such a difficult thing for me to discover? Why does the story change with every retelling?>

There was a long silence. <I know I said that no one could really know who your father is,> Lenna said finally, <But if there’s anyone who might, it’s your mother.>

<Mystique?> Kurt laughed. <How do you propose I get that information from her?>

<Just ask her yourself.> There was another long pause after Lenna’s simple reply.

<And if I went after her to ask her, would you go with me?> Kurt asked.

“Of course, brother,” Lenna said.

The quick transition back to English made Kurt grin. “Let’s go then,” he said.

*****

*Translated from the German (just like they do in the comics!)

If I don't update this as often as you might like, it's for one of three reasons: 1) Homework/Volleyball/other extra curriculars are cutting into my writing time. 2) NaNoWriMo is consuming me and I have no time for silly fanfictions about Nightcrawler's family. 3) I'm too busy writing for my JOB WITH MY LOCAL NEWSPAPER!

It's official: I'm writing a monthly column for my local newspaper. It's purpose is to give an insight into how teenage minds work. I'm really, really excited, but the deadlines for this column are non-negotiable, so it will take top priority over NaNoWriMo and my fanfiction.

But I do have until Jan. 3. That should be plenty of time!

Thanks for all the encouragement, guys!
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challenge

Post by Elfdame »

Congrats, Def!! That is great! Be sure to jot down any ideas that present themselves, no matter how ludicrous, so you'll have backup plans if you get writers' block for a column. Wow - tear sheets at a tender age!
"Humanity is a parade of fools, and I am at the front of it, twirling a baton." From Chapter 9 of _Brother Odd_ by Dean Koontz / from Chapter 10: "Life you can evade; death you cannot."

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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by neling4 »

Elfdame wrote:
I bet neling is lickin' her chops over this one!
Indeed! :lick

I like it. :)
R.I.P. Nightcrawler. 1975 - 2010

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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

Thanks again, folks. You guys really know how to encourage people.

ahem-hem.

Act II: Die Verrückte Mutter*

“Mystique is currently masquerading as Professor Xavier to justify what Norman Osborne is doing,” Kurt told Lenna as they walked down the hall.

“Why? She isn’t the kind of person to take orders from him, or anybody, really.” Lenna lengthened her stride to match Kurt’s.

“She’s got nano-explosives floating in her blood stream. One wrong move and she becomes the human bomb.”

“Raven always did have a strong sense of self-preservation,” Lenna stopped at almost the same time Kurt did. “We’re gonna have to be careful when we do this.”

“I know.” Kurt opened his arms. “Ready to teleport?”

Lenna grinned. “I’ve heard about it. I almost thought I’d never live to experience it.”

Kurt laughed. “It’s not a pleasant experience,” he said, wrapping her tight in his arms.

“So I’ve been told.” She looked up into his eyes. “Ready when you are, little brother.”

BAMF!

Kurt supported Lenna as she sagged against him. “Ohhhh…” she moaned, clutching at his arms, “I don’t feel so good.”

“I warned you,” Kurt said, standing her up on her own two feet.

“When people said ‘unpleasant’ and ‘nausea-inducing’ I didn’t realize the sensation was akin to getting a very bad case of the flu.” Lenna rubbed her forehead and walked a little way forward.

“The flu?” Kurt raised his eyebrows.

“Well, if someone was burning rotten eggs at the same time.” She looked around. “Where are we?”

“Graymaulkin Industries. It’s still safe.” Kurt reached down and touched the small device on his belt, instantly transforming into a blond, blue-eyed, normal-looking man.

Lenna stared. “What did you just do?”

Kurt checked out the window to judge the defense. “It’s a holographic image inducer. It allows me to appear normal. This setting is loosely based on my real physical features.”

Lenna shook her head and chuckled. “You are so Papi’s son,” she said.

“Come on,” Kurt said, “We’ll have to teleport again.”

“Do we have to?”

Kurt grinned. “Yes. Unfortunately, these guards are much too close and vigilant for anything else.”

“All right,” Lenna said, sighing quietly.

BAMF!

“In all my years, Kurt,” Lenna gasped as she once more sagged against him, “I will never, ever, EVER get used to that.”

*****

*I think that this means, "The Crazy Mother." If anybody out there has a better command of German than me, please correct me!
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Angelique »

No worries. Crazy mother is correct.
Meddle not with the heartstrings of fans, for we are powerful and hold your pursestrings.

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http://hubpages.com/hub/characterdriven
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

I now pronounce this story --- BACK FROM THE DEAD!

*****

“A business-class flight on a commercial airline, Kurt?” Lenna asked incredulously as they walked down to the airport, “Are you joking? Don’t you X-Men have your own private jet or something?”

Kurt grinned back at her. She was so easy to talk to, to talk with. It was like she really was his sister, like he’d known her forever. “Yes. We do. But I don’t want to draw too much attention. So instead, we’re going as Kurt Wagner and his sis Lenna, natives of Germany, going to visit their ailing mother. Should be easy to remember, nicht war?

“I suppose so,” said Lenna, looking around at the large airport, “You don’t suppose we’ll be recognized, do you? I mean, we’re using our real names. And I have blue hair.”

Kurt grinned and gestured discreetly to a young man in from of them with a neon-green mohawk, several colorful and offensive tattoos, numerous piercing, and a studded dog collar. “I don’t think you’ll attract much attention, Fraulein. And Kurt Wagner is a very common name, don’t you worry.”

“You do have the plane tickets already, don’t you?” Lenna asked, “It won’t be very incognito if you try to buy our tickets at the counter.”

Kurt pulled the two tickets out of his coat pocket and waved them in Lenna’s face. “Relax,” he said, “I’ve got them right here. Don’t worry about a thing, Lenna, I’ve got it all planned out.”

Lenna frowned. “What about the image inducer? Won’t they detect it when you go through security?”

Kurt tapped the device, which was currently disguised to look like a belt buckle. “Solid plastic,” he said, “This one was designed for situations like this. They won’t even notice it.”

“They’ll ask you to take off your belt,” Lenna said.

Kurt grinned. “Not if they don’t know I have one,” he said, pulling out his shirt and letting it hang down over his pants, completely obscuring the device. “There. Problem solved. No one will bother us, Lenna, so don’t worry so much.”

“I’m not worrying,” said Lenna, “I’m just being practical and thorough. What about luggage? We don’t have any. Won’t they think that’s odd?”

“The way fuel costs are these days,” said Kurt, “The airline will thank us for not bringing anything extra to weigh down the plane with. I told you, Lenna, I’ve got it all figured out. Will you relax and stop worrying? I’ve thought of everything.”

Lenna rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Kurt checked them in at the counter without a hitch, and they quickly found their way over to security. Lenna had a bit of chapstick in her pocket that needed to be sealed in a baggie, but other than that, they had no items to check. They both took off their coats and their shoes and then Lenna walked through the metal detector. She was declared green.

Then Kurt walked through. There was a loud, ugly beeping noise and his little light went red. The security guard asked Kurt to go through again, and when the same thing happened, they took out the handheld device and waved him down.

The little thing beeped as it was right over his pocket. Kurt couldn’t think what he had possibly put in there. His rosary was in his jacket on the conveyor belt, and he didn’t think there was any metal in it, anyways. What was in there? Kurt tried to think.

“Sir, do you know what you have in your pocket?” the security guard asked very politely and very threateningly.

Kurt was still drawing a blank. “I don’t know sir,” he said very honestly, “I’m as puzzled as you are. I can’t think what I must’ve left in there.”

The security guard looked at him with a deep and penetrating look that made Kurt feel like a criminal. Then the guard called over one of his colleagues, and while one of them watched Kurt intensely with his hand straying near to his weapon, the other guard carefully and gently reached into his pocket. After a few moments of the odd and vaguely uncomfortable feeling of someone else digging around in his pockets, Kurt watched as the security guard pulled out the offending item.

It was his cell phone. Kurt felt like smacking his forehead. Dummkopf! Always check your pockets before going through airport security!

The security guard held it out to him. “Do you recognize this, sir?” he asked.

Kurt nodded weakly. “Yes, it’s my cell phone,” Kurt said, “I must’ve just forgotten to check my pockets before going through security. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” said the guard, handing his phone back, “Just don’t let it happen again.”

Kurt joined Lenna at the other end of security and retrieved his jacket and shoes. He spent a great deal of time trying to force his large feet back inside of his shoes.

Lenna leaned over him and said, “Who thought of everything, again?”

Kurt sighed. “Okay, okay, next time, I’ll listen to you.”

Lenna smiled at him and they walked down to their gate.
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by BitterBamfing »

XD Nice way to restart the story and I can honestly say I've done the same thing Kurt did except they ended up taking away my chapstick.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Phoenixincarnate »

ITS ALLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVVVVVVVEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and awesome;).
...PIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I apolgize for any spelling mistakes, Its kinda hard to type in a straitjacket...
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Elfdame »

Lovin' it. Update soon, Missy!
"Humanity is a parade of fools, and I am at the front of it, twirling a baton." From Chapter 9 of _Brother Odd_ by Dean Koontz / from Chapter 10: "Life you can evade; death you cannot."

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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

:oops: Wow, guys! I feel so loved!

*****

Kurt and Lenna got off their plane, went through the surprisingly short process of disembarkation, and wandered out in the middle of New York City.

“Told you nothing would go wrong,” Kurt said to Lenna, “Besides the little cell phone mishap, you’ll notice that everything went exactly according to plan.”

“Yeah,” said Lenna, “And now we’re here. And we’re planning on breaking into a governmental building, stealing away a woman who may explode the minute they realize she’s gone, who may explode if she goes over certain boundaries, and then forcing said woman to reveal information about your father. I’m still having trouble seeing how this plan is going to work.”

“It was your idea,” Kurt said mockingly.

“I didn’t say it was a good idea, it was just an idea,” said Lenna, “Somehow I doubt Raven’s going to tell you anything of real value.”

Kurt turned, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked her straight in the eyes. “You know what your problem is?” he asked, “You’re a pessimist. You know what you need? You need a little cheering up. How about a drink? I know a couple of bars around here.”

“Seriously? Kurt, it’s hardly even five o’clock, we just got off a long airplane flight, and we’re planning on doing something hugely dangerous. Drinking will release our inhibitions, make us careless. You’re crazy if you want to drink.”

“That settles it,” said Kurt decisively, spinning Lenna about and marching her down the street, “We’re going for a drink if only to get you to stop nagging me.”

“I’m not nagging,” said Lenna indignantly.

“You are,” replied Kurt, “You feel more like my mother than my sister. And now you’re being argumentative.”

“Takes two to tango, buddy.”

“You want to dance, too? Why, Miss Wagner, I didn’t think you would lose yourself so easily.”

“Stop flirting with me.” Lenna was laughing, though she was trying to be stern, “You really shouldn’t be flirting with your sister. That’s just icky. Though it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

Kurt laughed. “Amanda was not my biological or adoptive sister, it wasn’t the least bit incestuous.”

“Sure. You just grew up in her family, lived with her nearly your whole life, and called her mother your mother. Of course it wasn’t anything.” Lenna’s voice was light, but there was a tone of reproach.

“It was perfectly innocent,” said Kurt lightly, “As is my relationship with you. If it bothers you, of course I’ll stop.”

“Then please do.” Lenna’s voice was suddenly very serious. “I don’t want you flirting with me. It would be very awkward.”

Kurt let go of her arm, but continued to lead her down the street by walking ahead of her. “We’re still going for a drink,” he declared.

Lenna rolled her eyes up at him and smiled. “I only drink German beer.”

“Same here,” said Kurt, as he led her into a little bar that he and Logan often frequented when they had the time to drive out here. They stepped inside to the sound of their laughter.


[Edited on 12/7/09 by Dedicatedfollower467]
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by BitterBamfing »

Ooh touchy subject.
Also you capture Kurt's playful side very well.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

And now a chance for Kurt's less-than-playful side.

*****

“You know what, Kurt?” Lenna said, laughing slightly, “You’re crazy.”

The two of them had just teleported to a vantage point where they could see Norman Osborne’s stronghold, the building where Mystique was probably hiding. Kurt grinned at her. He guessed that the beer had cushioned her system a little – she hadn’t complained about teleport this time. Although she had sagged against him.

“We’ve both just had a lot more to drink than we probably should have,” Lenna said, “We’re tipsy, if not flat-out drunk, and you seriously want me to break into one of the most heavily guarded buildings on the planet, and then impersonate your mother?”

“In a nutshell, yes,” said Kurt lightly, grinning at her.

“You’re crazy,” she repeated, shaking her head.

“Oh, come on. It’ll be easy. I’ll get us inside with a quick ‘port, get Mystique away to somewhere safe, and you pretend to be her the whole time. Nobody will even know the difference.”

“Yeah?” said Lenna, “What if they want me to appear for something as Xavier, huh? I can’t shape-shift.”

“Be belligerent. You can do it,” said Kurt, “And stop worrying. It’ll be fine. I’ll come and get you before anybody notices.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Then Kurt grabbed her and teleported. He’d gotten a good enough view of the window, and luckily enough, Mystique had been sitting in one of the rooms with access to the outside. As soon as he was in the room he dropped Lenna’s hand and grabbed Raven’s, and teleported again.

The ‘porting had tired him out, but soon everything would be fine.

Now he was back out on the vantage point, standing in a puff of smoke. Raven screamed and Kurt clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to shush her.

Mystique calmed quickly and glared up at him, but Kurt kept his hand over her mouth. He didn’t want her calling for help or something. She looked the way she normally did – red hair, blue skin, burning yellow eyes. Kurt smiled down at her, though he didn’t really feel like smiling. “Hello, mother,” he said lightly, slowly pulling his hand away from her mouth.

“I think you ought to know,” Mystique said as she pulled away from him haughtily, “That if I’m not back within the borders of Osborne’s building within twenty minutes, I explode.”

“Then you’ll have to talk fast.” Kurt didn’t really want her to get hurt, though he felt no affection whatsoever for her. She’d ruined his life more than once. Now all he wanted out of her was the truth.

“I want to know who my father is,” Kurt said, “The truth.”

Mystique laughed, sashaying away to the other side of the building. “What makes you think you’ll like the truth?” she asked cruelly, “What if you already know the truth?”

Kurt glared at her. “Every story you’ve ever told me has been different,” he said angrily, “I want to know the real story.”

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t oblige you with that.” Mystique’s laugh was condescending and it made Kurt’s blood boil.

“What do you know about Lenna Wagner?” Kurt asked.

“Oh that brat.” Mystique tossed her head, her long red hair waving about breezily. “Not much. She was Erik Wagner’s daughter by his first marriage. What does it matter?”

“Lenna thinks he’s my father.” The anger was boiling away in his chest. She never gave him a straight answer, it was stupid to even try.

“Oh, is she still kicking around then?” Mystique laughed again. “Well, I’m not surprised. She always was desperate for company.”

Her flippant attitude, the way she wasn’t taking any of this seriously, the way she insulted Lenna, it all boiled down to this. This was the reason why he could hardly stand her – it was the way she seemed to think nothing was important but herself that made her so different from him. Most days, he was glad she hadn’t raised him – some days he almost couldn’t believe she was his mother.

“Lenna has become my friend, Mystique,” he said coldly, though his heart felt like it was going to explode.

“I suppose strange little girls like her just can’t let things go.” Mystique walked calmly towards him, a supercilious smile painting her blue face. “You obviously can’t either.”

Kurt snapped. In less than a second, the anger and hatred in his chest erupted outward, and he almost couldn’t help himself. He punched her without thinking, almost without realizing he was doing, sending her reeling backwards. She fell gracelessly to the ground, huffing as she went.

Kurt stood over her, and something inside of him felt very, very bad about what he’d just done. But Raven’s language was violence – she’d always dealt in fights and lies. That was how she worked, how she communicated. And so it would be the best way for him to communicate back.

“You think you can play with me like this?” Kurt shouted at her, feeling quite unlike himself. “You think you can dangle me on a string like this for ages, taunting me, trying to see the way I’ll react? Well, you can’t! Give me an answer, now!”

Mystique glared up at him silently, and Kurt knew in that instant that she had nothing to say, that she would never tell him what she knew, because she enjoyed torturing him, she liked to watch him suffer. He turned his back on her, attempting to get his emotions under control.

<It’s complicated, Kurt.> The fact that Raven spoke in German made Kurt pause, but what really startled him was the soft and simply tone of voice she used. He turned to look back at her. She wasn’t watching him, but staring at the ground.

<You see,> she explained quietly, <I used Erik as an excuse to stay safe while I was in Germany. He represented a life where, though I had to hide, I wouldn’t have to run anymore.>

Kurt didn’t know where she was going with this, but he was fascinated, almost hypnotized, listening to her quiet words.

<But I wanted more than him,> she said, <He was an amazing lover, but I wanted something a little edgier, a little different. When Azazel came along, I leapt at the chance to try something strange and new.

<I still loved Erik, I think. I’m not sure I remember. But there is one thing I remember. You see, Kurt, the timing is such that either one of them could be your father. I don’t know which one it was. They were too close together to tell.>

Kurt stared at her. It wasn’t exactly a straight answer, in fact, it wasn’t much of an answer at all. However, he felt that it was an honest answer, something which Raven had refused to do for him ever since she’d met her. There was something intrinsically truthful about what she told him, that made Kurt believe that she knew no more than he did.

“And now,” Mystique said, switching back into English, “I have to get back, or I explode and you and the whole building go with me.”

Kurt sighed. Again, her truthfulness was a survival tactic. Lenna really had the measure of her down. “All right,” he said, grabbing her about the waist. He looked through the window to where Lenna was standing, and then teleported to and from, switching passengers as he went.

Multi-porting was supposed to be nearly instantaneous – faster than any person could react. And yet he could swear that one of his passengers whispered, <I really do love you, Kurt,> before he reached the wall again.

*****
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Elfdame »

What a fantastic closing line!!! :love
"Humanity is a parade of fools, and I am at the front of it, twirling a baton." From Chapter 9 of _Brother Odd_ by Dean Koontz / from Chapter 10: "Life you can evade; death you cannot."

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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

[rquote=33695218&tid=12394&author=Elfdame]What a fantastic closing line!!! :love[/rquote]

Thank you! It was muchly inspired by UXM #177 (same ish the pic is from.) There's some very interesting Mystique commentary.

*****
Lenna fell against Kurt’s chest again, coughing out fumes of fuchsia smoke, her eyes watering. Kurt tried to help prop her upright, but she seemed very unsteady on her feet, though she didn’t complain. For the first time, Kurt began to wonder about her alcohol tolerance level.

“Well?”

Kurt knew what she was asking, and he didn’t know exactly what to say. How could he tell her that Mystique had been cheating on her dad so badly that either the demon OR the human could be his father?

“Kurt?” Lenna looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”

Kurt sighed and crouched down. The position was more comfortable, more natural, and somehow, he felt more like himself now. The anger had melted away almost instantly, though the confusion was still there. He looked out into the distance, trying to find the right words.

“You were right the first time,” he said at last, “She didn’t know, either.”

Lenna sighed and also crouched down, so that she was on a level with him. It made Kurt think absurdly of a kindergarten teacher, and he was struck with the sudden realization that he knew almost nothing about her – her age, her occupation, even her interests. All he knew was that she thought he was her half-brother. The idea that he was running across the country with almost a complete stranger was sort of chilling.

“I hate it,” he muttered to himself, to no one, to Lenna, to God, “I hate this running around without answers. Nobody can give me a straight answer, nobody knows the truth.”

Lenna nodded and looked out over the city with him. Kurt looked sideways at her and decided he didn’t care if she was almost a complete stranger – she obviously cared enough for him to try to help him through this. She knew just what to do to help him through troubling times, and he trusted her.

They stared out at the New York skyline for a few moments, in complete silence.

“You know,” Lenna finally said, “I think you should come meet our dad. Once you see him, I know you’ll realize that you’re his son. The resemblance is uncanny.”

Kurt laughed. “I doubt it, somehow,” he said, “But fine. Let’s go. Where does he live?”

“Just outside Berlin.”

“How are we going to get to Berlin?”

Lenna looked at him and smiled. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ve thought of everything.”
*****
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by BitterBamfing »

This made me grin like a fool I love Kurt and Lenna's relationship it gives me the warm and fuzzies.:D
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

Act III: Der Abwesende Vater

“You know what, Lenna?” Kurt said, as he followed her through the extremely crowded airport, “You’re the crazy one.”

Lenna laughed and looked over her shoulder at him, grinning. “Oh really?” she said, “And what exactly have I done that is so crazy?”

“Let’s see.” Kurt looked up in mock thoughtfulness. “First, in San Francisco you freak out because we’re going on an airplane. You find every little thing that could possibly go wrong with my plan and worry and nag about it. Now we’re in the middle of an international airport, wading through the crowd, trying to find a plane that will take us to Berlin, Germany, for a price we can afford to play. Do you see the ‘one of these things is not like the other,’ part?”

Lenna laughed. “This time, I’ve done all the planning. And we’re not looking for a plane, how many times have I told you, I’ve already got the tickets!”

Kurt stared down at her. “I know! That’s the craziest part about it! You’ve been planning this whole time on taking me back to Berlin, today? How did you plan that out? Are you OCD or something?”

“Actually, I have been diagnosed with a mild form of OCD, yes,” said Lenna, smiling at him, “Come on, let’s go, we’re supposed to be there three hours early and we’re already thirty minutes late.”

Kurt rolled his eyes though no one could see. They checked in all right, and went through airport security without a hitch (Kurt remembered to check his pockets this time) and were soon sitting at the gate. It seemed only a few short minutes before they were boarding the plane, settling as comfortably as possible into their seats.

Lenna fell asleep only moments into the flight, but Kurt sat up, watching the ocean and the clouds speed away behind them. He knew they were flying incredibly fast, and yet somehow they seemed almost stationary as they went across the wide Atlantic.

It seemed to mirror the way he felt right now. Everything was happening way too fast – just last night Lenna had barged into his life. In less than twenty-four hours he’d jaunted across the country and was now flying over to the country of his birth. Time was flying away at a tremendous pace, and yet wherever he was, time seemed to completely stop.

And now, would he really find out the answer? Somehow, he doubted it. And yet, there was something about Lenna’s hope that held him captivated.

The truth was still out of reach, but maybe they were getting closer.
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Elfdame »

Well written. Keep it comin', Honey.
"Humanity is a parade of fools, and I am at the front of it, twirling a baton." From Chapter 9 of _Brother Odd_ by Dean Koontz / from Chapter 10: "Life you can evade; death you cannot."

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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

Thanks everybody!

Short update this time -- I'm a little tired, and I'm explaining why Kurt is in the same predicament.

*****

“You realize we just converted a twenty-four hour day into a hundred-hour one?” Kurt asked as he got off the plane in the middle of the night in Germany.

“You’re exaggerating,” said Lenna, seeming perfectly chipper. “Look. We got up at about eight, right? Then we wandered around a little and took a six-hour flight to New York at about two. But the time is three hours ahead there, so we arrived at five. Then we got on a plane at about seven-ish, and so we’ve arrived at about two in the morning. That’s only a thirty-something hour day.”

Kurt just looked at her. He was tired, he was stiffer than he had ever been in his life, it was dark outside, and all he wanted to do was find a hotel someplace and sleep. Right now, he didn’t care about the math. He just felt like he’d been up for forever, and wanted to sleep.

“Let’s get a taxi,” said Lenna, guiding him gently to a counter.

“And a hotel,” said Kurt.

Lenna smiled at him. “Of course,” she said.

Kurt didn’t remember the taxi ride, couldn’t remember the name of the hotel or the number of the room. He didn’t remember anything after that moment – except for falling headfirst onto the pillows.

*****

[Lenna uses the phrase thirty-something, because like Kurt here, I am much too tired to do the math.]

[Edited on 12/18/09 by Dedicatedfollower467]
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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Blood Runs Thicker Than Water-- Fall/Winter Writing Challeng

Post by Dedicatedfollower467 »

*****
Lenna threw the curtains aside and sunlight crashed into the room, shattering Kurt’s somewhat pleasant dream about snowy meadows with its piercing brilliance. He squinted and blinked up at the morning, feeling like he had a hangover, though he knew he didn’t. Certainly, he hadn’t had enough sleep last night. But there Lenna was, glowing in his fuzzy, sleep-clouded vision like an avenging angel.

“Come on!” she called out in a horrifically chipper voice, “Up and at ‘em! You’re going to meet your father today!”

Kurt groaned and rolled over, pulling the sheets up over his head. “Why so early?” he said.

“It’s almost noon,” Lenna informed him, grabbing his sheets and dragging them off of him. Kurt darted forward and dragged them back up.

“Again, why so early?” he moaned.

“If you don’t get your tail out of bed right now, mister,” Lenna said sternly, “I’m going to leave you here.”

Kurt sat up. He was still wearing yesterday’s rumpled clothes and he felt unwashed, unshaven, and very, very tired. “Fine, fine,” he said, throwing away the sheets and wandering down to the bathroom to attempt to wash his face or something.

Lenna threw a small package at him. “Amenities pack,” she said as he caught it sleepily, “There’s a razor, a toothbrush, and a clean t-shirt in there. The hotel was very nice.”

Kurt nodded sleepily and wandered into the bathroom, trying to rub the fog from his eyes and feel a little bit more awake. After about ten minutes, he’d finished, and slumped back out, wearing the plain white t-shirt the hotel had provided for him.

“So, what are we doing?” Kurt asked.

“We’re taking the train to my dad’s village and then walking to his house,” Lenna said matter-of-factly, “So come on, get your tail moving, Kurt.”

“Like I’ve never heard that one before,” Kurt muttered as he followed her to checkout and the train station. Once again, he couldn’t remember the transportation part of the journey – looking back on it later he decided he probably just slept through it.

His next memory was of Lenna leaning over and shaking him gently awake. “We’re here,” she said, “Let’s go.”

For the first time that morning, Kurt felt awake. His heart was beating crazily, and though he didn’t want to get his hopes up, he couldn’t help but feel invigorated. He followed Lenna as they walked down to the sidewalk and up a hill, where a little cottage was resting. It was quaint and private, almost like a lonely castle up here.

“Come on,” said Lenna, as she found the spare key under a plant pot, “Let’s go inside.”

“Shouldn’t we knock first?” Kurt asked nervously. This felt like trespassing, even if he was with the man’s daughter.

“Don’t worry,” said Lenna, “He’s probably out anyways. He loves to take walks through the country. It’s a private thing to do.”

Kurt was just thinking that Erik Wagner must be a very private person indeed, and wouldn’t appreciate an almost complete stranger wandering through his house without permission, when Lenna opened the door and led him into the house.

His father’s house?
*****
~Def.
"A dedicated follower of nothing." -- graffitit artist in Brick Lane, London, England.
Right across the lane from the demon and just down the wall from Wolverine.
RIP Kurt Wagner. You were the character who brought in me into comics, who introduced me and inspired me. Now your death has sent me away again. Wherever you are in the Marvel Universe, I hope its someplace pleasant.
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