Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by CurlyyHairGirl »

OH! off topic, but I wanted to mention it. The Las Vegas Hilton is having a Star Treck Convention, I believe at the end of July, between July 29th-Aug 1st. William Shatner and Leonard Nemoy(sp) are going to be there along with some others from the show.

Well there you go! If anyone plans on going, don't book at the Hilton, I'm Pretty sure it's booked full, my family got a room but it's non-refundable, so we have to go.

Here is some info: Star Trek Convention

Just scroll down the page and click on the Star Trek link.
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by Rowena »

Hi Everyone! I'm back! :D I just want to say that Las Vegas was AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!! I saw real, live acrobats for the first time in my life! They flew directly over my head at the Circus Circus Midway! One of them tried a triple and fell, though, but luckily there was a net! Otherwise, I would have been squashed. I was directly under her! I won $7 at the slot machines too, which was pretty cool! At the Hilton, where we stayed, they have this space themed casino. They have these slot machines that you work by swiping your hand through a laser beam! They built a little mock-up of the DS9 Promenade, too, complete with Garak's Tailor Shop and Quark's Bar! I told a Ferengi there how to fix a malfunctioning replicator--he didn't know the right tool to use--and shook hands (arms, rather) with a Klingon! I even saw Spock's Vulcan Lute, the one he played in 'Charlie X' while Uhura sang, and Data's Emotion Chip!!!!!!!! I proved myself a true Star Trek nerd by bringing my own pair of Vulcan ears with me and wearing them when I had my picture taken on the bridge of the Enterprise D. I wanted to sit in Data's chair, but it's off limits, unfortunately. You're only allowed to sit in the Captain's chair. I went on every single roller coaster on the strip--including Speed and the High Roller, which is on top of the Stratosphere tower! That was FANTASTIC!!!!!!!! My Dad and I went into every casino and played at least one slot machine, spending about 25 cents in each of them. I won free tickets to a magic show, but unfortuantely we couldn't use them because they were for the day we left. We saw the water show at the Bellagio from the top of the mini Eifel (sp) Tower at Paris, and I won a Puss in Boots doll from Shrek 2, a stuffed tiger, and a stuffed bear at the Circus Circus midway. The games were all really cheap! Most of them were only 50 cents! It was VERY unlike Atlantic City, which is pretty seedy, actually, and WAY more expensive. The Boardwalk games there are up to $5 a throw!

I'm rambling, aren't I. Ah, well, it's really late so I guess it doesn't matter. It's just been so long since I've been anywhere near the Internet and I just wanted to say hi and to let you all know that I'm still alive before I fall asleep. The horseback riding was SO COOL! It was a two hour ride through the desert guided by a real, live, honest-to-goodness cowboy (he was from Mexico and actually reminded me a lot of Tuco) and followed up by a BBQ steak dinner! WOW! My horse's name was Bay Lady, and she always kept wanting to go faster. She was great! The whole trip was great!

I'd hoped that once I got back on Monday I'd have some time to write more on this story here, but it didn't turn out that way. I had to do a lot of unpacking and cooking and watching Star Trek after I got back, then the next day I had to work. All day. Ug. Then the next day I had to work again, and when I got back home Dad was on the computer making up tests for his class, then my brother needed the computer and then Mom needed the phone and on and on and on. Blah. Then, on Thursday we all had to pack in the car to drive down to New Jersey to see my sister's graduation from Coast Guard Basic Training. That was something else. She played the cymbols in the band, which was neat because she's really a violinist. I play the piano, so I played the glockenspiel in my high school band. Those things are HEAVY! The graduation was really well done and we got a tour and everything which was neat. On the way down, though, we stayed overnight in Atlantic City and that's how I know it's really rather nasty compared to Las Vegas. The buffet at the Taj Mahal was pretty awesome, though. Crab legs and shrimp heaven!

And so, after all these travels, I'm finally back home and on the Internet, no less! Just taking a glance here I know I've got a LOT of catching up to do! Not to mention I've still got to write Ch. 8! I will definately try to get at least a start on that tomorrow. Or should I say later today. It already is tomorrow! :D

Oh, before I forget, I have a cool picture I wanted to show you. It's from the Adventuredome at Circus Circus. I'm climbing a rock wall and you can see my hair really well. I hardly ever get to see my own hair, since it's always behind me, and this picture kind of took me by surprise. I hadn't realized it was quite so long in a braid! Well, now you can see I wasn't kidding when I said I had long hair! :D The picture's a little on the pink side, but then so is the Adventuredome.

Now I've got to get to bed before I fall asleep right here! But I'll be back soon, and with a real update! Bye for now! :D

:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by CurlyyHairGirl »

OOOOH OOH OOH! Did you try the Amazing cheesecake that they have at Quark's? It is so good. *drools*
Was this your very first time to Las Vegas? Cause if it was, you only just scratched the surface. They have an indoors skydiving place )*-*(
You must of had sooo much fun.
Did you go into the MGM Grand and see the lions?:shocked
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by Rowena »

Did I see the MGM lions? You bet! But they were both asleep, darn it. Oh well. They were still cool! Did you see my picture?

I didnt try the cheesecake, but I did have the flaming Bananas Foster. I never had a waiter set my food on fire before, so I just couldnt resist. I wore my Vulcan ears the entire time I was there, and the waiter didnt even give me a second look! The Klingon at the bar did, though. He was really funny!

Yeah, this was my first time in Las Vegas. I did know about the indoor skydiving and I really wanted to try it out, but my Dad felt it was way too expensive. We did walk all the way down the strip and back, though, and we paid a visit to each of the hotel/casinos. We didnt get to go to any cool shows, unfortunately, even though I won those magic show tickets. I really wanted to see (I cant spell this) Cirque du Soliel (? wince ?) but we couldnt do that either. So I just went on all the roller coasters, had fun dressing up as a Vulcan for the Star Trek Experience, and ate at an awful lot of buffets! I still cant look at food. Erg.

Do you go to Vegas often? You seem to know an awful lot about it! Thanks for the Star Trek Convention info, too. Too bad I cant go back!

And now, here is more of Belascos Beatrice! This chapter is seriously weird, but Ill leave it up to you to tell me what you think of it! :D

Chapter Eight

Charles Xavier was renowned as the foremost telepath in the world. Needless to say, he was familiar with the workings of individual minds and how to safely navigate his way through their myriad thoughts, desires, and memories without losing his own identity and purpose. However, even he with all his vast experience found himself instantly lost the moment he entered the raging chaos that had overtaken the mind of the man with whom he had just linked.

The noise and light and color was overwhelming as it pressed against his psychic presence, rushing by him in a raging gust that left him reeling and off balance. The closest thing to which he could compare the disorienting experience was viewing a moving carousel at night through an unfocused camera lens. Brief flashes of faces flew past—laughing, screaming, gentle, terrified, cold, cruel, furious, anguished, shining with love… They were the faces of strangers and friends, each flash accompanied by a sharp pang of loss, sorrow, or hurt.

Xavier gasped, struggling to pull himself out of the crushing throng, to rise above the swirling colors. He tried to calm himself, to focus his concentration, but there was no opportunity. Voices came from nowhere and everywhere, speaking in a cacophony of different languages. Fleeting images and turbulent emotions vied for his attention, slipping around and through him like ghostly specters. The images pummeled him, knocking him back, then forward, then to the side, pressing up against him then vanishing into nothingness.


It was so easy to get lost there, so easy to lose his purpose. His focus was fractured, his thoughts muddled and unclear. Half smothered and desperate to catch his breath, Xavier suddenly found himself falling. Without warning, the surreal lights, the laughter, the screams, and the ghostly faces battering his psyche disappeared, leaving Xavier to tumble helplessly through whirling landscapes and buildings, mountains and fire and blackness, dank dungeons, bustling cities, and quiet rooms. The light of the sun and stars, the chill of the pale moon, incredible heat and biting cold assaulted his senses, spinning him dizzily until he had lost all sense of direction.

Disembodied and terrified, Xavier curled his psychic self into a protective ball, squeezing his arms against his ears as he laced his fingers tightly behind his bald head. A strange prickling, tingling sensation began to creep along the edges of his mind, like a million tiny insects crawling their way through the growing cracks in his mental shields. Xavier opened his eyes wide in horror, his mouth stretching until the delicate skin of his lips nearly broke with the strain of his silent scream. He was lost, alone; trapped in the mind of a madman with no body to ground him and no way out. His shields were crumbling, his sense of identity growing weaker as he continued to fall. Xavier was truly in danger of losing himself forever.

At that realization, all pretense of rational thought left him. Without any consideration for the potential danger to himself or to Kurt, Xavier instinctively gave in to the whispering need to deepen the mental link until he could feel the stabilizing influence of his host’s body pulsing around him. The heartbeat was fast but steady, the breathing slightly labored but regular. There was pain also, astonishingly intense—a burning, biting, stinging ache—but it was distant, muted by the painkillers Hank had administered.

Xavier forced the body to fill its lungs in a deep, shaky sigh of relief as he felt his focus slowly begin to return. Now he had a body to steady him, the creeping tingle of encroaching madness quickly faded, allowing Xavier to gradually come back to himself; to recall his identity and his purpose.

“Kurt’s hand,” he whispered to himself, stretching out to follow the pain to its source as he felt his memory begin to clear. “The genetic manipulation. I was hoping to find out who was responsible. I was trying to discover what had triggered that change in Kurt’s hand.”

Xavier smiled to himself as he spoke these words, relieved and delighted at how quickly and how well he seemed to be recovering from his nearly fatal experience. However, with his shields still weak, his own thoughts weren’t the only ones he could hear. The subconscious mind is a busy place, crowded with thoughts, memories, and dreams. Barely had he begun to regroup, when a new voice caught his attention. It felt almost as though it was calling to him specifically, but Xavier knew that was just his imagination.

The voice was soft and deep; the patient voice of a teacher. It spoke in German with a subtle, foreign inflection Xavier could not quite place. Even though he had never heard this voice before, he found he knew at once who it belonged to. It was the voice of Sabu, Kurt’s childhood mentor and the closest thing he’d had to a father while growing up.

Xavier closed his eyes and concentrated on the soft voice, only one among dozens of others chatting and singing and crying and laughing. He followed the voice like a guiding light, carefully loosening his link with his host’s body as he moved deeper and deeper into his unconscious mind.

The light was coming from a large, brightly colored tent hung with brilliant flags and posters inviting spectators in three languages to come see the Great Sabu perform his death-defying acrobatic feats without a net. Xavier tilted his head slightly, regarding the cloaked man on the posters with some curiosity. He was tall, lean, and dark with intense, coal-black eyes and wavy hair to match. His neat, pointed goatee and moustache leant him an eerie, sinister air. Looking at the drawing, Xavier was reminded of an illustration he had once seen in a book of fairy tales; an illustration of an evil sorcerer.

The muffled voice was coming from within the tent. Curious, Xavier pushed the heavy tent-flap aside and walked into the enormous, popcorn-scented space beyond. A short, burly man was sweeping litter out from under the stands. He gave Xavier a suspicious look, then nodded him over to the center ring. Xavier nodded back, then made his way to where the burly man had indicated. There, an even shorter, hunch-backed man was examining the safety net with the eyes of a concerned professional. He glanced up to the small, square platform high above and Xavier followed his gaze to see two shadowy figures crouched there, one large and the other small. A trapeze was hooked to the support pole within easy reach of the two figures and another was hanging still and motionless over the net from the darkness at the very top of the tent.

It took Xavier a moment to recognize the larger figure as the man he had seen on the posters outside. Out of costume, the Great Sabu was far from sinister. His shiny hair was tousled and his intense eyes were kind as he looked down at his much younger companion; a small boy who, to Xavier’s eyes, couldn’t be more than three or four years old.

“Don’t worry,” Sabu was saying in his deep, patient voice. “The net is here to catch you. Just remember what I taught you and keep your mind on the task ahead. There is nothing to fear, my boy. Once you find the courage to take this first leap, I know you will make us all proud.”

“And then I can fly?” the dark little boy asked with a slight, childish lisp, flashing his large, white teeth in a broad, excited smile. “Like Margali said?”

Sabu laughed, a warm, affectionate sound. “It is very like flight,” he said. “But it is more a feeling of freedom, of liberation. You will no longer be bound to the ground, but you will become a creature of the air, of grace, and of beauty. There is no feeling to compare, you will see. Now, why don’t you give it a try, yes?”

The small boy rose to his feet, his eyes wide and glowing with excitement mixed with apprehension. It was then that Xavier noticed his tail. As the boy carefully unhooked the large trapeze, his short, stubby tail wrapped itself around his mentor’s arm. Sabu smiled, then gently unwrapped it.

“I think you’ll be needing this, don’t you?” he said.

“That’s mine,” the boy announced, pulling his spaded, indigo tail from his mentor’s hand and lashing it back and forth a few times as he took hold of the trapeze with both three-fingered hands.

“Sabu?” he said, turning his head to look back at his mentor once more. But, Sabu was no longer there.

Xavier gasped, suddenly realizing that he was now standing where Sabu had been, high, high, high above the ground. He sat down at once, curling his fingers tightly around the edge of the platform as a wave of disorientation and vertigo washed over him.

“Oh, Professor!”

Xavier’s eyes shot open and he looked up at the sound of that familiar, accented voice. Kurt Wagner was grinning down at him, no longer a child but a young man. Xavier stared despite himself. Kurt looked just as he had when Xavier had first met him all those years ago, when the talented acrobat had been little more than nineteen years old.

“What are you doing here?” the young man was saying. “Have you come to see my last performance?”

“Oh…erm…yes,” Xavier nodded, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Kurt’s face in order to prevent himself from looking down. “Yes indeed.”

“Das ist wunderbar!” Kurt beamed. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Professor. Sabu came back from Russia just for this show, did you know? He is going to be my partner.”

Kurt blinked a few times, lowering his head as his smile took on a slightly melancholy tinge. “They’re all… They’re all really sorry that I’m going. I wish I didn’t have to.”

He clenched his fist, his narrow features tightening in anger though his golden eyes glowed with pain. “But there is no way that the Incredible Nightcrawler will ever become a part of that verdammt Amerikaner’s freak show,” he proclaimed with a lash of his long, powerful tail. “He may have bought my circus with his Texas millions, but he doesn’t own me. And that’s why Amanda and I are going away, right after this performance. Who knows…perhaps we can start our own circus, ja? In America, no less.”

“Perhaps,” Xavier echoed, though his attention was no longer on Kurt. He thought he had caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he furrowed his brow, scanning the shadows for the malevolent form he knew to be there.

There! Two glowing, yellow eyes peering at him out of the dimness at the top of the tent. Squinting his eyes, Xavier could just make out the cloaked intruder’s silhouette, frowning as he saw his long, spaded tail wrap around the sturdy ropes and wires that held the second trapeze securely in place. The professor could almost swear he saw the sinister figure grin at him, but before he could react there was a flash of steel and Xavier’s world dissolved into blinding, white light.

Suddenly, his ears were assaulted by a thousand cheers as a band began to play far below. Cautiously opening his eyes, Xavier found he was now standing in mid-air at the exact level of the trapeze. The stands were filled to capacity, the excited spectators overflowing into the sidelines and almost out of the tent as they craned their necks to get a last look at the famous Nightcrawler. Kurt himself was standing on the platform with Sabu, the two of them smiling as they shared a warm embrace. The older man’s hair was longer now, as was his beard, but his eyes…his eyes were just the same.

Just then, the spotlight turned on the two acrobats. Gradually, the crowd hushed and the dramatic drumroll began.

Sabu clapped Kurt heartily on the back, then broke their embrace with one last grin. Turning to face forward, the seasoned acrobat grasped his trapeze, watching intently as a third man standing on the far platform threw the second trapeze out to swing freely through the air. Timing his movements carefully, Sabu climbed up onto the second rung of the ladder running through the center of his own platform and jumped off, building momentum as he swung until he released the bar and curled in his legs, performing a perfect double aerial somersault before catching hold of the second trapeze and gracefully pulling himself up into a sitting position.

As the crowd burst into applause, Kurt grabbed the swinging trapeze and climbed up to the third rung of the ladder, watching carefully while Sabu twined his legs around the ropes of his own trapeze and let go of the bar so he was hanging upside down with his arms outstretched, ready to catch his star pupil. He smiled at Kurt, a proud twinkle in his dark eyes as he watched him prepare for the jump.

Just then, Sabu’s trapeze gave a shuddering lurch, causing him to twist dangerously as he swung through the air. He tried to reach up for the bar, to try to steady himself, but the trapeze lurched again, more violently this time. There was a loud SNAP, and then Sabu was falling, crying out in alarm and growing terror as he tumbled through the air toward the hard ground far below.

“NO!” Kurt screamed, his young voice breaking as he teleported instantly to his mentor’s side. But he was too late to catch him. Sabu landed head-first with a horrible, sickening sound, his body twitching as it bounced once with the impact, then skidded to a stop through the sawdust that littered the ground.*

Kurt fell to his knees beside him, shaking all over as he screamed in horror and denial, streams of hot tears leaking from his golden eyes. He stretched out a tentative hand to touch his mentor’s shoulder, then paused, his eyes widening in a horror of a completely different kind.

Everything froze, the world coming to a complete halt as Kurt stared at his hand. Xavier found himself suddenly at his side, watching his numb expression as the young man shook his head weakly in mute denial. Slowly, Xavier followed his stunned gaze down his fuzzy, blue arm until his eyes rested on his outstretched hand. Rather than the familiar thick, blue digits he had expected to see, Xavier saw the powerful, taloned hand of Belasco.

Kurt blinked, flexing each of the five, russet fingers in turn, unable to believe that they were his.

“Nein,” he whispered, his trembling voice barely audible even to Xavier. “Nein, this is not right. This can not be right!”

The red was spreading up his arm now, his short, fuzz-like fur falling away as a sudden, chill wind began to blow. It rustled through Sabu’s wavy hair, changing the course of the small trickle of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth and down his pale cheek.

“No! It is not possible!” Kurt screamed, leaping to his feet as they too began to change. A pair of blood-red leather boots appeared below a sweeping, russet cloak as the young man backed away from his mentor’s still form. “Not another death, Belasco, bitte! Not another friend!”

He turned away in anguish, unable to face Sabu any longer. His long cloak swirled behind him as he pressed his one hand to his streaming eyes, his shoulders shaking with violent sobs. When he spoke again, his voice was different than it had been before. It was deeper, harsher, and his formerly pronounced accent was now little more than a faint inflection.

“How can this be my fault?!” he snapped angrily. “I did not kill Sabu! I loved him! I loved him!!”

Xavier stared at the distraught demon before him, not quite sure what to do. The transformation was complete now, all the way to his sharp horns and his crimson hair. Yet somehow, Xavier could still see Kurt behind the demon’s yellow eyes, as a faint shadow softening Belasco’s hard features. It was to him that Xavier finally spoke.

“Kurt,” he said softly, stepping up beside the sobbing demon until he was standing at the periphery of his line of sight. The russet-skinned man turned on him, his golden eyes glowing dangerously despite his tears.

“Charles,” he hissed with a sneer. “What are you doing here? No, wait. Don’t tell me. You’ve come to offer your assistance? Your sympathy perhaps? Or maybe you’ve just come to try to convince yourself that I am, indeed, Kurt Wagner.”

”Is that who you believe yourself to be?” Xavier asked in the same calm tone he’d used before, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the demon’s face. The demon scowled angrily, his sharp fangs gleaming in a way that made Xavier feel distinctly uncomfortable.

“Get out of here,” he growled. “Leave me alone!”

“I don’t think that’s what you really want,” Xavier observed. “You want answers. Answers only I can help you find.”

The demon’s eyes widened, then he snarled, his one hand reaching for the hilt of his sword.

”You smug, sanctimonious bastard,” he roared, his eyes flashing with hatred. “Your clever little mind games won’t work on me. Not anymore. So take your know-it-all speeches and your holier-than-thou attitude and get out of my head! I don’t need you, and I don’t want your help.”

“But you do, Kurt,” Xavier said gently, taking a half step closer to the fuming demon. “Otherwise, why would you have come back to the mansion after all this time? What could you possibly have been looking for, if not yourself?”

The demon stared at him for a long moment, his expression hard and unreadable. Then, he spun on his heel, his cape billowing out behind him as he strode off into the growing blackness.

“Kurt!” Xavier called after him, stretching out an arm as though that would halt his progress. “Kurt, I don’t want to trick you! I don’t want to hurt you or use you or trap you. I came here to find out the truth about what happened to you. I believe the answers are here somewhere, but you and I both know that neither of us will be able to find them alone.”

Kurt was still walking, but Xavier knew he had heard him. He sighed, his heart aching as he tried one final time to reach his former friend before he disappeared entirely.

“Kurt,” he said, his voice soft and sincere. “I—I realize that I’ve used you in the past, and there is no excuse for that. I know that there have been times when I have abused your trust and your love. I know you have no reason to trust me now, and I’m not asking you to forgive me for what I’ve done. But I care about you, Kurt, and I do want to help you. You can’t know how much it hurts me to see you in such pain—“

”How much it hurts ‘you’?” Kurt repeated incredulously, stopping in his tracks and turning to face the professor once more. “How much it hurts YOU?” He laughed; a cold, angry sound, his long tail twitching behind him as he spoke.

“You have no idea what true pain is, my dear Professor,” he sneered darkly. “You know,” he said, a thoughtful tone to his voice, “you are one of the most selfish, self-centered creatures I have ever met, and I have met many. And you are right. I have no reason to trust you. You are an unwelcome intruder into my private thoughts, Charles, and—for the record—the intrusion is not appreciated.”

“I understand that,” Xavier acknowledged, raising his eyes to meet Kurt’s. “And I will leave if that is what you truly wish. But I will not abandon you. Your struggle is my struggle, Kurt. You don’t have to fight Belasco alone.”

Kurt blinked for a moment, caught off guard by the Professor’s sincere words. Then, he scowled. “Belasco may be your enemy,” he snarled, “but he is my problem and his actions are my responsibility.”

“Granted,” Charles nodded, taking a few steps closer to the malevolent figure glaring at him through the shadows. “But how did he come to be your problem, Kurt? Why should you have to carry the guilt of his actions in your heart?”

“Because…”

Kurt turned his head, closing his glowing eyes in a futile attempt to block out the Professor’s presence. “I wasn’t strong enough to stop him,” he whispered through a tight throat. “I just lay there in the dimness of my own mind and let him take over.” He frowned, his brow furrowing in self-loathing mingled with strong defiance. “But not anymore.”

He opened his eyes again, then strode forward, closing the distance between himself and the Professor.

“I will not be manipulated again,” he declared. “Not by you, not by Belasco, not by anyone. While it is true that I do not know how this happened to me, I do know that this body is mine, and I mean to have it back just as it was.”

“And I am offering to help you do that,” Xavier said, letting the taller man see the truth in his eyes. “It is clear that we both want the same thing, Kurt. But in order to accomplish anything, we are going to have to work together.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Xavier, his expression suspicious, yet lacking the cold animosity of before.

“I will consider it, Professor,” he said at last. “Now leave me. And I warn you, the next time you enter my mind without my consent, I will not pull you out of the midden mire. Belasco is easily awoken, and I am not ready to face him quite yet.”

“The midden mire?” Xavier repeated, confused. Then he remembered the chaos that had met him when he had first linked with Kurt’s mind, dragging him down until he had nearly lost himself to the swirling madness. His eyes widened as he looked up at the russet-skinned demon, seeing him in a new light.

“You saved my life.”

Kurt just looked at him, expressionless. “I did.”

Xavier’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Thank you, Kurt,” he said warmly, clapping the taller man on the shoulder.

Then, before Kurt could react, Xavier withdrew himself from his mind, leaning back in his wheelchair and opening his eyes. He was still smiling as he turned his head to face Ororo.

“You were right,” he said to her, his smile widening at Scott’s confused expression. “You were right, Ororo. He truly is Kurt Wagner. And he does want our help.”


*Sabu’s demise is based on the events seen in Excalibur #-1, Flashback: A True and Terrible Sacrifice. Belasco was responsible for the horrible death of Kurt’s mentor. :belasco

:azazel
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
CurlyyHairGirl
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by CurlyyHairGirl »

Originally posted by Rowena
Did I see the MGM lions? You bet! But they were both asleep, darn it. Oh well. They were still cool! Did you see my picture?

I didn't try the cheesecake, but I did have the flaming Bananas Foster. I never had a waiter set my food on fire before, so I just couldn't resist. I wore my Vulcan ears the entire time I was there, and the waiter didn't even give me a second look! The Klingon at the bar did, though. He was really funny!

Yeah, this was my first time in Las Vegas. I did know about the indoor skydiving and I really wanted to try it out, but my Dad felt it was way too expensive. We did walk all the way down the strip and back, though, and we paid a visit to each of the hotel/casinos. We didn't get to go to any cool shows, unfortunately, even though I won those magic show tickets. I really wanted to see (I can't spell this) Cirque du Soliel (? wince ?) but we couldn't do that either. So I just went on all the roller coasters, had fun dressing up as a Vulcan for the Star Trek Experience, and ate at an awful lot of buffets! I still can't look at food. Erg.

Do you go to Vegas often? You seem to know an awful lot about it! Thanks for the Star Trek Convention info, too. Too bad I can't go back!
Awesomeness! Ill have to try the Banana's Foster when I go at the end of the month.

The Lions were awake last time we went, they were being fed:D
I didn't see the pic, It didn't come up on my PC so I'll try to check it out later.

I do go pretty often, if you call it often. I go with my parents and my sister every other year. This year we are staying at the hilton for 3 or 4 days, and then the Paris for 2 days, and we will be going every where!

The Circus is always great to see, it is a real treat, you'll have to gho again.

OMG! I know what you mean about the buffets, there are so many of them and you don't feel hungry for the next two weeks after the visit there:X.

The Bar at Quarks is fun to play with:toothy even thoug I am only 15 *extra goofy smile* well 16 in Aug.

OOOOH OOOH!!! THe Adventure Dome is the largest indoors theme park!!! And it Kicks!!!

BACK ON TOPIC
Yet again you astound me with you fiction, I feel gealous of your Talent...speaking of talent, anybody see the Queen around here?(Lauren)
Well, I sure hope that Kurt lets Xavier help him out, it would just be soooo sad if he didn't *sniffle*

I can't wait till the next update, which will be excrutiating if you are going to the SDCC (I envy whoso ever is):madCurse you, all those going to the SDCC!!!!*pant* I'll have my Aunt get me somethin', she lives in SD.:D
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by Rowena »

Very late for work, must post fast, please excuse my haste!


Chapter Nine

Jean Summers paid the taxi driver, then stood back as he drove away, hefting her purse over her shoulder and pulling up the handle to her wheeled overnight bag. She smiled slightly as she cast her gaze around the peaceful grounds, drinking in the rich, earthy smell of sun-warmed grass before turning to face the mansion.

Jean was in an unusually good mood that morning. Her speech had gone over surprisingly well at the medical conference, and she was looking forward to discussing several of the new theories that had been put forward there with Hank, Charles, and Erik. The lecture involving the use of telepathy to assist coma patients had been particularly exciting…

A twig snapped to her left, the sharp sound momentarily shattering the tranquil backdrop of rustling leaves and birdsong. Jean spun at once, dropping her bags and falling unconsciously into a defensive posture, her mind on full alert. Someone was there, watching her…a psychic presence tingling just at the edges of her shields. He was moving towards her, coming from the direction of Ororo’s garden…

Jean’s eyes widened and she straightened, her lips twitching as she suppressed a sudden bubble of laughter. There, ambling his leisurely way through the thick grass, was a sleek, black goat. He turned his long face towards her, regarding her through large, blasé eyes, then continued on his way across the grounds.

Jean gave a small smile, shaking her head at herself as she took up her bags once again and headed up the stairs for the front door. All her years as an X-Man had made her slightly paranoid, it seemed. For a moment, she could have sworn she’d felt a man was watching her from behind that old oak…

Scott opened the door a moment before Jean had dug her keys out of her purse, the telepathic bond they shared having alerted him to her arrival without her even having to contact him.

“Welcome home!” the spectacled man grinned, opening his arms wide. Jean stepped into them, bags and all, squeezing him tightly in a brief, though warm, embrace.

“How was your trip?” Scott asked, pecking her on the cheek before letting her go. He took her free hand as they started down the hallway, the wheels of Jean’s bag surprisingly loud as they bumped off the carpet and onto the old, hardwood floor. “You were smiling when I opened the door, so I assume you had a good time.”

Jean shot him an enigmatic smile, then asked, “Since when do we have a goat?”

Scott furrowed his brow. “A goat?” he repeated, as if unsure he’d heard her correctly.

“Yes, a goat,” Jean confirmed. “I saw one just now, wandering across the grounds.”

“Well, it’s not ours,” Scott said. “At least, not as far as I know. Maybe it ran away from one of the farms down the road. Or it could even be some eccentric millionaire’s escaped pet.” He smirked at his own suggestion. “Hey, you never know.”

Jean just shrugged. “Maybe. And in answer to your question, I did have a wonderful time at the conference, thank you. What’s for breakfast?”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to ask how things have been around here while you were gone?”

”I don’t have to,” Jean said, leading Scott into the kitchen and releasing his hand as she made a bee line for the refrigerator. “I know something happened. But tell me later, after I’ve eaten something. They didn’t have a meal service on the plane and I just couldn’t face fast food that early in the morning.”

“I think breakfast is still going on in the dining hall if you don’t mind eating with the students,” Scott told her. “I could take your stuff upstairs for you.”

“Could you? I would really appreciate that, sweetie,” Jean smiled, abandoning the refrigerator in favor of gracing her husband’s lips with a kiss.

“Mmm,” she sighed, closing her eyes briefly. “It’s good to be home. It feels like I’ve been running on nothing but adrenaline for the past two days.”

“Then you go get some breakfast,” Scott said with a soft smile. “We can talk more once you’ve refueled. Here, let me take those for you.”

He reached out a hand and Jean gave him her purse, her lips twitching slightly as he slung the effeminate accessory over his broad shoulder.

“Thank you, Scott,” she said, her smile sincere as he grabbed the handle of her overnight bag and started out the kitchen door.

“No problem,” Scott assured her. “Just meet me in the conference room when you’re done eating, OK? We’ve got a lot we need to talk about.”

*******

Most of the breakfast platters were empty by the time Jean made her way to the long buffet table at the side of the room. The eggs were gone, as was the French toast, but there was still enough sausage, bacon, pancakes, and cantaloupe left to make a decent meal. Jean quickly loaded her plate, adding a generous dollop of cottage cheese to the top of her melon slice, then she scanned the tables to find a place to sit.

The long room was still pretty full, seeing as most of the students preferred to sleep late on Saturdays. Jean kept her shields up as she picked her way through the chattering, laughing crowd, smiling and nodding whenever one of the children called out her name in greeting. Finally, she reached the half-empty table she had been aiming for.

“Hope you don’t mind if I sit down,” she said to the small group of students huddled at the far end, taking a seat before they could answer.

“No, it’s OK, Dr. Summers,” Paul Carter assured her, glancing over to Anna, who was flushing a pale shade of green. “Did you just get back?”

”Mm hmm,” Jean nodded, swallowing a large mouthful of sausage and pancake. “Just walked in the door five minutes ago. I hope you didn’t miss me too much in class on Friday.”

“Dr. McCoy showed us a video,” Anna said politely. “About white blood cells and diseases and things. It was very interesting.”

Jean looked over at her, a knowing gleam in her eye. “I’m sure,” she said, taking another bite of breakfast. “And you all completed that essay afterwards?”

Anna, Paul, and the two other students, Holly and Adam, nodded with a few low mumbles. Jean smirked behind her napkin, amused. She was about to say something more, when a sudden burst of frustration filtered through her lax shields. Jean furrowed her brow as she turned her gaze in the direction the frustrated annoyance was coming from. Anna was shooting Paul a significant glance, her orange eyes wide. Paul gave her a helpless look, his yellow, reptilian eyes darting over to indicate Jean, his expression one of warning. Jean frowned, suddenly suspicious. These kids were hiding something--something potentially dangerous--and they clearly couldn’t wait for her to leave. Taking a sip of coffee, Jean composed her features. She didn’t want to let them know she was on to them quite yet.

“So, I hear there was a little excitement around here last night,” she said easily, apparently more interested in her cantaloupe than their responses.

Paul elbowed Adam, who gave a startled jump, then turned to Jean with a forced smile and a rehearsed line. Jean, however, was more interested in the nearly silent exchange taking place between Anna and Paul.

“See, she knows,” Paul hissed to Anna, his voice so soft Jean had to drop her shields almost entirely in order to hear his message. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“We were the ones who found him,” Anna whispered back. “We have a right to know what’s going on with him. We should at least be allowed to know the guy’s name!”

“I know, but Professor Xavier warned us not to tell anybody what we saw. If he finds out we were planning to sneak down to see him, so soon after last night—“

“Paul, shut-up! She’s looking at us!”

“She wouldn’t read our thoughts…would she?”

Jean winced slightly, but she made sure that her eyes were on Adam by the time Paul turned his head.

“So all you know is that someone was walking around the grounds last night,” she said thoughtfully, repeating the line Adam had fed her as though she had been paying attention. “Well, that doesn’t sound too serious to me.”

“Yeah,” Holly agreed. “It’s probably nothing.”

Jean smiled, rising from her chair and picking up her plate and mug. “Well, it’s been a pleasure, kids, but I’m afraid I have to go. See you in class.”

”Bye, Dr. Summers,” the teens chorused. They sounded pleasant enough, but Jean could swear she felt their eyes following her all the way out of the dining hall.

*******

Jean held a short debate with herself once she was safely in the empty corridor. She knew Scott would be waiting for her in the conference room, but Anna and Paul’s clandestine conversation had gotten her curious. No doubt Scott was planning to tell her all about the mysterious trespasser they were apparently hiding in the subbasement, but Jean suddenly felt an irrational, almost childish impulse to see the stranger first, to form her own opinions and judgments of the unknown man Anna and Paul had discovered running around the grounds before being influenced by anyone else’s conclusions. Besides, if she was lucky, she might get a chance to try out some of the new, less-intrusive mental probing methods she had learned at the conference without having to go through all the trouble of running them by Charles first.

Jean shot a quick glance behind her to make sure the corridor was really empty, then strode directly for the elevator to the subbasement.

*******

“Hello?”

Jean poked her head around the door to Hank’s office, only to see a hand-painted wooden sign reading ‘Out To Lunch’ hanging over the back of his chair by a length of rough twine. Jean turned away with a pointed smirk, very much aware of how Hank reveled in the double meaning of that sign. He put it up whenever he left his office, whether he was actually going to lunch or not. Since she hadn’t seen him in the dining hall or met him in the elevator, she had to assume he had just stepped out for a breath of fresh air. That suited Jean perfectly, though. The fewer distractions she encountered down here, the less suspicious Scott would be when she arrived late.

“This is very immature of you,” Jean mentally scolded herself, although she couldn’t suppress the tiniest smile. “Bypassing all the proper channels, skulking around your own lab like a guilty student. What would Hank say if he came back and saw you like this?”

Jean shook her head at her own uncharacteristic behavior, but she didn’t let her growing sheepishness deter her from her goal. She’d ostensibly come to the medbay to see the mysterious trespasser before anyone could bias her opinion of him, and that was precisely what she intended to do.

The large room was silent except for the rhythmic beeps and hisses from the machines monitoring the stranger’s vital signs. The unconscious man was lying on his side in one of the three hospital beds with his back to the door. A crisp, white sheet was shielding him from her view except for the back of his head. Whoever he was, the fiery red of his hair was a rival to Jean’s own. This was hardly unusual, however, in a world populated almost entirely by mutants.

Jean strode directly up to him, reaching out a hand to adjust the sheet so she could get a clearer view of his face. She gasped as an unexpected jolt of electricity stabbed at her fingertips before she could come within two feet of the sleeping stranger.

“Yow!” she exclaimed, jumping back. “A forcefield!”

She frowned, shaking her tingling hand in annoyance. “Who the heck is this guy to warrant such warm hospitality?”

Jean looked around, but there was no sign of the ‘patient’s’ chart anywhere. Her frown deepening, Jean turned back to the stranger, her suspicion growing by the moment. Making sure she was standing a safe distance away from the forcefield, Jean stretched out her hand again, using her telekinesis to fold down the stranger’s sheet.

The man shifted in his sleep, mumbling softly as he buried his face deeper into the pillow. Jean scowled. She was determined to at least find out this man’s name before she left to meet Scott. She cocked an eyebrow then, smiling slightly as a sudden thought occurred to her. It looked like she was getting a chance to try out some of those new techniques after all.

Jean took in a deep breath through her nose, relaxing her shoulders as she brought her mind into focus. Her telepathy was strong, but nowhere near the level of Charles Xavier. Even a light scan required her full concentration, particularly if the mind she was scanning was that of a stranger. Finding out something as deeply ingrained as his name shouldn’t be too hard, however. Closing her eyes, Jean took a moment to recall the exact method Dr. Oesi had outlined at the conference, then stretched out with her mind, smoothly entering into the stranger’s thoughts…

Jean furrowed her brow, confused by what she was sensing. There was a strange kind of duality present here, almost as though she was reading two individuals rather than one. Puzzled, but intrigued, Jean headed for the stronger of the two, shivering slightly as thoughts and memories she could barely sense brushed by her like so many ghosts.

The landscape that met her mind’s eye was dark and barren, but somewhere in the near distance, a dim light was glowing. Jean shifted direction to follow it, passing over craggy cliffs and lifeless plains. The air was stifling and stagnant, and the reek of brimstone grew stronger the farther in she traveled.

The light was closer now. Jean slowed her progress, suddenly cautious as she saw something moving in the flickering light, its shadow obscuring the sharp rock formations that littered the parched, cracked ground—

“Stop!”

Jean spun around, her green eyes widening in terror. A tall, russet-skinned man in a blood-red cloak was striding towards her, his short, sharp horns reflecting the flickering light, his long, narrow face made all the more intimidating by the shadows. It was a horrific, nightmarish image; an image so deeply terrifying that Jean found herself suddenly unable to think. She was frozen, as helpless as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. She was unable to speak, unable even to scream as the monster strode right up to her. He towered over her like a vampire from a movie, and all Jean could do was cringe.

“Go away! Get out of here, now!” the menacing demon was shouting, his intense, yellow eyes glowing furiously in the dimness.

“You idiot!” he roared. “You arrogant little--!” He cut himself off with a snarl, clenching his fist in a terrified desperation too strong to be expressed through words. He ground his sharp teeth, shooting her a glare that could have cut through stone.

“Don’t you realize the danger?! Don’t you know where you are?! Get out now, while you still can!”

Jean backed slowly away from the livid demon, her eyes nearly round, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. She knew where she was now. She knew the reason for that forcefield. She had entered the mind of a demon, and now Belasco himself was standing over her.

The demon’s face contorted with infuriated frustration at her continued silence. Before she could react, he reached out with his one, powerful arm and grabbed her by the elbow, wrenching her after him almost violently. Jean cried out in pain, but the demon ignored her. He was running now, his tail beating at his cloak as it billowed out behind him. Jean followed as best she could, stumbling over the uneven ground even as she struggled to free her arm from his vice-like grip.

“Let me go!” she gasped, twisting her body and clawing at his fingers with her free hand. “Let go of me!”

The demon stopped in his tracks, his glowing eyes positively deadly as he lifted her off her feet and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“I have worked too hard to regain control to have you ruin it all now through your ignorant stupidity!” he growled, holding her securely as he resumed his running. “What was Charles thinking, sending you in here? I warned him, I told him…”

He snorted, bearing his sharp teeth. “I should have known better than to trust that bald fool. He always thinks he knows better than anyone else. He knows nothing!”

He turned his head slightly, addressing her now. “Listen to me,” he barked, his harsh voice sharp and intense. “I will take you to safety, but then you must leave, understand!”

The reality of her situation was slowly beginning to penetrate through the blinding terror that had gripped her before. Belasco had her trapped. He was speaking to her, obviously trying to manipulate her, while all the time he was carrying her away to God only knew where at an alarming pace. She had to escape and quickly, before he reached his destination where he would no doubt have her completely at his mercy.

The demon’s long tail was swaying below her, just out of her reach. Concerting her movements with the jarring rhythm of his steps, Jean reached down and grabbed the sinewy appendage, yanking it as hard as she could.

The demon howled in startled pain, dropping her as he arched his back, reaching behind himself to grab his throbbing tail with his red, three-fingered hand. Jean grinned in triumph, jumping to her feet and racing back the way they had come. She had to find someplace to hide. She needed to compose her mind again. She needed to find her focus if she was to escape.

There! A cave! Jean raced into the darkness, leaning against the cold, damp rock wall as she fell into a crouch on the ground. She gasped for breath, struggling to control her breathing and calm her racing heart as she worked to focus her concentration. She had ended up much farther in than she had ever intended to go. It would take a great deal of effort to get herself out and back into her own body, and she had to do it fast, before Belasco could find her.

“Jean Grey,” a deep voice rumbled from out of the darkness, smooth and smug and oozing with curdled charm. Jean’s head shot up in alarm, her heart starting its pounding all over again.

“Or should I say Jean Summers?" the voice went on in a musing tone. "You did actually marry that spectacled stiff, didnt you?" He chuckled. "Well, theres no accounting for taste, I suppose. Please believe me, my dear, when I say you are certainly looking your age this morning.”

Jean glared, even though she couldnt see the man who was mocking her. She knew that voice, though...

Just then, her eyes widened as, suddenly, everything fell into place. The strange duality she had sensed, the fear she had seen flickering behind her kidnapper’s angry eyes—“

”Oh, God,” she gasped. “He only had three fingers…”

The smug voice broke out into cold laughter, a cruel cackle in the darkness. “Feeling a bit foolish now, are you? And so you should. For, my aging beauty…”

Jean gave a little cry of alarm as the cave was suddenly flooded with a bright, flickering light—the very light she had been following when she had first arrived. She looked up to see an imposing, red-skinned demon sitting tall and confident in an enormous throne carved high into the craggy rockface at the back of the cave. Jean found herself backed against the wall, a deep fire pit surrounding her in a smoky, flickering half-circle. The heat was incredible, and the awful stench of brimstone was nearly suffocating.

“…you have run from your saviors arm, only to fall directly into my trap,” the demon finished with a broad, toothy grin.

“NO!” a familiar voice cried out from beyond the flames. “Jean!”

“Ah, if it isn’t my old friend Kurt Wagner,” Belasco said, turning his smile to face his horrified double. “How’s the tail? I saw what she did to it.” He gave a mock wince, his glowing eyes twinkling with dark amusement. “That must have stung.”

“Let her go, Belasco!”

Belasco gave a pointed yawn, rolling his golden eyes. “Out of my sight, little freak,” he said breezily with a dismissive wave of his five-fingered hand. “You bore me with your clichéd posturing. This is my realm, and you have no power here. If you keep quiet, though, I just might let you watch while I make those X-Freaks pay for what they have done to my body.”

“It’s not your body,” Kurt retorted angrily, his tail lashing like a whip as he clenched his three-fingered fist. “And the X-Men had nothing to do with what happened. My hand had been aching long before I went back to the mansion and you know it.”

“Irrelevant!” Belasco growled. “I will not be anyone’s prisoner. And you will not stand in my way.”

Belasco made a fierce gesture with his hand, and suddenly Kurt was standing next to Jean, trapped in place by a wall of fire and smoke. Kurt glared through the flames, snarling dangerously as Belasco once again burst into laughter.

“You may think you have me trapped,” Kurt snapped, “but don’t forget that this is my mind too, Belasco. This may be your ‘realm’,” he snorted at the word, “and from what I’ve seen so far, you’re welcome to it. But I’m afraid Jean and I won’t be staying for the show.”

With that, Kurt grabbed Jean’s hand and leapt straight into the rock wall. Jean barely had time to scream before the two of them were enveloped by a sudden wave of roaring blankness.



Next time on Belascos Beatrice: A peek into Belascos mysterious past! Stay tuned! :D

:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Post by Rowena »

Hi! I just heard a neat riddle! It's probably old as the hills, but it's new to me and I thought it was cool enough to share. So, here it is:

What goes up a chimney down, but won't go down a chimney up?

Anyone care to guess?

Oh, by the way, any thoughts on Ch. 9? I've already started on Ch. 10, so the delay shouldn't be as long as last time.

Ciao!

:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by StarLightCrawler »

Well i realy like ch9. I did not get she was in his mind till late in the chapter but that could just be me. I realy like how you put that together. Also how it ended realy good clif hanger.

I'm going to take a wild guess a umbrella?(riddle)
Sorry for any miss typing or miss spelling.
If (sp) is by the word that means i don't know how to spell it.
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Post by Rowena »

Thanks, StarLightCrawler!!! And you're absolutely right! Umbrella is the correct answer! :D

Thanks for reading, everyone, and for your continued patience! I really appreciate it! :D

P.S.: At this point, I was kind of wondering how many people have been reading this so far. You don't have to respond if you don't want to, but I am curious to know. Thanks! :D
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by StarLightCrawler »

Well i'm pertty sure you know i'm reading this still. Though i thought i would post i am any way. Can't wait to see ch10!
Sorry for any miss typing or miss spelling.
If (sp) is by the word that means i don't know how to spell it.
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by ElfSpam »

Just letting you know, here's one more person you can always count on reading this story. This stuff rules, seriously. :tail
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by CurlyyHairGirl »

I'm still reading it!!! Although I had to catch up on the other stories that grew while I was gone. *rubs eyes tiredly*

I loved chapter 9. While I was reading, my jaw started to chatter because I was so excited to read what was coming up next:D I was like "NOOOOOO"!!! when I read that Jean ran away from Kurt.
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Post by Rowena »

Thanks guys! I really appreciate your letting me know. I know this story is pretty weird.

Welcome back, CurlyyHairGirl! :D I hope you had a fantastic trip! Did you meet any interesting Ferengi or Klingons while you were there? ;)

I had this chapter ready last week, but I've been sick and stuck in bed since Wednesday. I couldn't go to work or anything. I'm feeling better now, though, and I was actually able to get up yesterday which was good because it was my grandma's 92nd birthday and she wanted me to make her birthday dinner and cake for her. Which I did :D I made her a chocolate nut cake and filled it with frozen honey-nut mousse. Yummy!

Since I was trapped in bed for so long, I ended up writing most of this chapter out on paper. I didn't realize how long it actually was until I typed it up this morning. It's 12 pages, almost twice the size of most of the other chapters in this story! I'm not quite sure how that happened, but I was pretty surprised. Anyway, here it is. Hope it's OK, and I hope it makes sense! Writings from a fevered brain and all that. If you spot anything in here you think I should fix, just let me know! :D


Chapter Ten

Scott glanced up at the conference room’s elegant grandfather clock for the fifth time in as many minutes. It had been well over half an hour since Jean had gone to get her brunch, during which time he had called together the senior faculty members to help him with the briefing. Now, they were all waiting for the person for whose benefit this meeting had been called, and Scott wasn’t the only one starting to get just the slightest bit…antsy.

“What on earth can be taking her so long?” he muttered to himself, crossly brushing an imaginary dust speck from the immaculately polished table.

“Perhaps she is caught up in a conversation with one of the students?” Hank suggested with a small shrug, looking over to Ororo. The elemental shook her snowy head, her blue eyes concerned.

“No,” she frowned, “it is not like Jean to loose track of the time like that. Maybe I should go down to look for her.”

”I’d give her a few more minutes,” Erik said, leaning back in his chair. “It was a long flight, after all. Perhaps she wanted to…freshen up?”

Scott shot him a look from behind his glasses, then turned to the Professor. “Look, I don’t know what it is but I just have the feeling that something is wrong. I’m with Ororo on this. It’s not like Jean to keep us waiting.”

The Professor nodded slowly, his brow furrowed and his lips a narrow line. “I am not sensing any kind of disturbance,” he noted, “but I agree that we have waited long enough. Scott, go find her. If you do happen to run into any trouble, however—“

”I’ll contact you at once,” Scott nodded grimly, already rising from his chair. “Give me five minutes. I’ll be right back.”

Ororo looked like she was about to stand as well, but she apparently thought better of it and remained in her seat. Scott gave her an understanding look—which was completely obscured by his ruby-quartz glasses—then quickly crossed the large room, closing the heavy, wooden door behind him.

*******

Scott was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he nearly plowed straight into a small group of four chatting students who were just leaving the dining hall. Stopping short, Scott blinked in surprise as the students let out an alarmed shout.

“Oh, Mr. Summers!” Anna gasped, her pale cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of green. “I’m sorry! We…we just didn’t see you there…!”

“Did any of you see my wife in there?” Scott asked with a gesture towards the nearly empty cafeteria behind them.

“Yeah,” Adam nodded, his coarse, silvery skin almost sparkling in the sunlight streaming in through the window at the end of the hall. “She sat at our table. But she left a while ago.”

“How long ago?” Scott inquired, trying to keep his growing concern from his voice. “Did she happen to tell you where she was going?”

The uncomfortable looks the students were sharing did nothing to assuage Scott’s fears. He frowned, his demeanor growing almost threatening as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well?” he prompted.

“We don’t know where she went,” Anna stated, her gaze steady as she looked Scott straight in the glasses. “She left, like, maybe around ten minutes ago. We talked for a while when she was eating…you know, about class and the homework she’d left for us and stuff. And that was it.” She frowned. “Why, is something the matter?”

Scott shook his head, his lips tightening as he exhaled sharply through his nose. “No,” he told her. “I was supposed to meet her when she was done eating, that’s all. Only thing is, I haven’t been able to find her yet.”

”Well, she’s got to be somewhere,” Holly smiled, although her expression seemed oddly strained.

“Good luck with your quest, Mr. Summers,” Adam joked, moving to walk past him so he could continue on his way down the hall. “But we promised to meet some kids outside for a game of baseball, so…”

He trailed off, as if waiting for Scott’s permission to leave. Scott furrowed his brow suspiciously. From the way they were acting, it was clear that these kids were not on their way to an innocent baseball game. They were definitely up to something, and Scott believed he could guess what it was.

“Thanks,” he said as the teens turned to make their escape. “And I won’t keep you from your game, don’t worry. But just remember—“ he added, causing the students to turn back to him with slightly wary expressions. He smirked, shooting them his best ‘I’m on to you’ look. “The medbay—in fact, the entire subbasement—is off limits to all students for the time being. It will continue to be off limits until I specifically tell you otherwise. Am I understood?”

The students seemed to deflate almost as one. Anna squeezed her orange eyes tightly closed, hissing something through her teeth that sounded almost like a swear. Scott’s smirk deepened. Gotcha…

“Yes, Mr. Summers,” the four teens mumbled.

“Now go on, get out of here,” Scott said with a playful, shooing gesture. “Go get some fresh air. I’ll make sure you’re updated if there are any breaking developments—if you catch my meaning.” He would have winked, but he was quite aware it would be a meaningless gesture.

Anna’s bright eyes widened until they were almost round. “Really?!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“As long as you promise not to poke your noses where they don’t belong,” Scott said sternly. “I don’t need to tell you how serious a security violation of that magnitude would be…or how strictly it would be punished.”

Paul swallowed nervously, turning to Anna with wide, yellow eyes. Anna didn’t seem to notice his reaction.

“OK, Mr. Summers, we promise,” she said. Then she turned to the others. “Come on, guys. You heard what the man said. Let’s get out of here!”

Scott shook his head as he watched the students leave, wondering whether he should warn the Professor about what they had been up to. He had just dismissed the concern as unnecessary when a thought occurred to him that froze him in place. If Jean had picked up on their all-too-obvious plans to break into the medbay and spy on their intruder—

Suddenly, he realized what the disquieting feeling that had been setting him on edge almost since he had left Jean actually was. His mental link with her, their special telepathic bond…he couldn’t feel it. That could just mean that her shields were up and particularly strong, but why would she need such strong shields in the mansion? Unless she had gone to see the intruder by herself. But, he had called Hank away from his post! There would be no one down there to warn her…to stop her…!

Scott scowled darkly, firmly suppressing a sudden, chill burst of guilty dread as he ran as fast as he could for the elevator to the medbay.

*******

Kurt Wagner burst through the taut film that separated him from the light glowing just beyond, the terror of the empty blankness that had been pulling at him, clawing at his clothing and his sensitive tail still roaring in his ears. He squeezed his thick fingers tighter around Jean’s slender hand, giving a sharp yank as he helped her push through as well.

Jean coughed and panted, desperate for air as she leaned unabashedly against Kurt’s shoulder for support. She was trembling, her legs as weak as water as she struggled to come to terms with what had just happened.

“That,” she gasped, “was not normal.”

“What wasn’t?” Kurt asked with a sardonic raise of his eyebrow. “Getting us both trapped in Belasco’s little mini-Limbo because you were too frightened and pig-headed to listen to me?” He snorted. “What’s so abnormal about that? Happens all the time.”

Jean glared, then sighed. “OK, maybe I deserved that,” she acknowledged curtly. “But that wasn’t what I meant. That weird…nothingness that we just passed through. That funny filmy stuff we had to break through to get…wherever we are now. I have never sensed anything like that before. It strikes me as…”

“As what?” Kurt pressed, his churlish attitude unable to completely hide his curiosity.

“As unnatural,” Jean finished with a dissatisfied frown. “As…I don’t know…as artificial somehow. And it’s not only that.”

She shook her head, squinting her eyes as she struggled to put her feelings into words. Kurt just watched her, his narrow features carefully expressionless as she went on.

“None of what I have seen so far feels like it belongs to you; that it originated from you,” she said, knowing her words were wholly inadequate even before she noticed the confusion darkening his golden eyes. “If you weren’t here with me now, I could almost swear I had entered the mind of a different person all together.”

“You have,” Kurt scowled, his caustic tone causing her to take an unconscious step back. “This hasn’t been my mind for a very long time now. Belasco is the one in control here. He has been for…well, for more years than I really care to count. And for all that time, I have been nothing more than a shadow, a ghost, if you will, of the man you knew as Kurt Wagner, haunting Belasco’s twisted thoughts. At least that is how things were…until she came.” He turned away from her, closing his eyes as if in pain.

“Until she…?” Jean shook her head, not understanding. “Who is ‘she’? What do you mean, Kurt?”

The russet-skinned man opened his mouth as if to speak, but he shut it again almost at once, his eyes widening as he caught sight of something over Jean’s shoulder. Jean turned around, her own eyes widening in amazement as she followed his startled gaze.

“Oh, my God,” Jean gasped in startled amazement. “Where are we?”
The two mutants were standing in the shade of an abandoned awning on the outskirts of a bustling city square. The lunch-time crowd that had flooded the open-air market was just beginning to let up as the shopkeepers and businessmen finished their meals and wrapped up their conversations, strolling off to resume their work. The sun was starting to peek out from behind the clouds that had previously shrouded it; its fresh, spring-time light making even the cramped, litter-strewn alleys of the medieval city seem vibrant and picturesque.

“I don’t know,” Kurt responded, his eyes almost round as he drank in the impossible sight before him. “If I were to take a wild guess, I’d say this was Florence, but it looks very different from the last time I was there with the circus. Almost unrecognizable, in fact.”

“Then what makes you think this is Florence?”

Kurt turned to her almost absently, too distracted by the people and the noise to actually focus on her. “Because,” he said, “Belasco was originally from Florence. He was a contemporary of the poet Dante Alighieri.”

Just then, he gave a sudden start, his tail twitching as a disturbing thought occurred to him.

“Jean,” he exclaimed, “can these people see us? Can you tell if Belasco knows we’re here?”

“I’m not sure,” Jean said, concerned. “Why do you ask?”

”Look at that tall man heading for the bridge,” he pointed. “Who does he remind you of?”

Jean looked from the tall, dark-haired man to Kurt, then gasped in alarm as she noted the uncanny resemblance.

“Oh, God,” she breathed. “Do you think he could be Belasco in disguise?”

Kurt frowned, keeping his eyes trained on the tall man and his shorter companion.

”Perhaps,” he mused, his expression softening slightly as he watched the tall young man laugh with his friend. “Or perhaps he is the man Belasco was before he became the demon we know.”

“Should we follow him?” Jean asked.

Kurt looked at her then and almost smiled. “Do you really think I would blend into that crowd, Liebling?”

Jean stiffened slightly at that last word, her heart clenching in her chest. She stared at the russet-skinned man before her, feeling that she was seeing him for the first time. And it was the first time that she truly recognized him as her old friend and teammate. Slowly, she smiled back, struggling to hide her reaction behind a shaky laugh. This really was Kurt, and he was alive!

“Well, like you said, this is your mind, isn’t it?” she replied. “Couldn’t you try to change your appearance, like in a dream?”

Kurt looked startled by the suggestion. “I don’t really know,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve never tried it on purpose before.”

“Well, try it now,” Jean said, glancing back at the two men. “If we stand here too long, we’re going to lose them.”

Kurt nodded, his face taking on a look of total concentration as he stared at Jean. The telepath was just about to protest, when she noticed a change in her clothes. Looking down, she saw her slightly rumpled business suit had been replaced with a colorful gown similar to the gowns many of the women in the market were wearing. She grinned in astonishment, but when she looked up to praise Kurt she was startled to see a pale man with dark hair, dark eyes, and a long, aquiline nose looking back at her. He, too, was dressed in medieval garb.

“Basil Rathbone,” the man explained with a somewhat self-conscious smile. Then his smile turned slightly sardonic. “I haven’t been feeling much like an Errol Flynn character of late.”

Jean was surprised to feel her eyes stinging as she brought her hand to her mouth. “No, it’s perfect, Kurt,” she told him through her fingers, unable to completely hide her smile. Acting entirely on impulse, she stepped forward, wrapping the taller man in a tight embrace. Her unshed tears nearly fell when she felt him return it.

“What—“ Kurt started, then he cleared his throat, pulling away from her with a slightly suspicious frown. “What was that for?”

Jean just shook her head, her lips still twitching as she fought to reign in her emotions. “Come on,” she said, stepping out from under the awning and into the bright sunlight. “Let’s go after those two men before they get away.”

*******

Kurt and Jean caught up with their quarry just as the two men reached the old bridge. Trying to make themselves as unnoticeable as possible, the eavesdroppers leaned over the railing, ostensibly engaged in watching the water flow by as they surreptitiously listened in on their neighbors’ conversation.

“Listen to me, my friend,” the taller of the two men was saying, a playful smile quirking across his pale, narrow face. “You have been holed up with your dusty scrolls and papers for far too long. I say enough with the poetry and the politics! It’s time for you to have some fun.”

“No, Brunetto, you listen to me,” the shorter man snapped. “You don’t seem to realize that I have a great deal of important work to do. If I ever hope to be eligible for a political office in this city, I first must enroll in the guild of physicians and apothecaries. And that requires a great deal of hard work and responsibility—something you would know nothing about.”

”Pish,” Brunetto retorted. “Your responsibilities can certainly wait an hour for you to return to them. Of what use will you be to the great city of Florence if you starve yourself of sunshine, life, and laughter—not to mention food. Did I mention food? Because I don’t know about you, Dante, but I need my lunch and a glass or two of good wine before I can even think of returning to work.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call what you do ‘work’,” Dante snorted with a scornful sneer.

Brunetto clasped a dramatic hand to his heart. “Ow! My friend, you wound me with your biting words. Of course what I do is work. Do you think it’s easy trying to decipher the mysteries of the universe? And if, in the meantime, a few lovely ladies or exceedingly rich gentlemen decide they would rather their silver necklace or their copper buttons were made of gold, who am I to deny them?”

“Your brand of alchemy is nothing more than a scam, Brunetto, and you are nothing more than a cheap con artist.”

”I object to the word ‘cheap’ being used to describe me,” Brunetto frowned, haughtily drawing himself up. “I am a very expensive con artist. Lord knows those rich snobs can certainly spare the cash. And there is real gold dust in the paint I use.” He waved off the look Dante shot him. “Besides, I only do that to help fund my real work; my research into how and why the world was made and what comes afterwards once we leave it.”

”God made the world,” Dante snapped. “And His kingdom is what awaits us after death. That is all you need to know or to worry yourself over. Unless, of course, you would rather spend an eternity in the Inferno for your continuous blasphemies.”

Brunetto quirked an eyebrow. “If the Devil agreed to answer my questions, I might just consider it worth it.”

Dante stared, his mouth slightly open. “Do not talk that way, Brunetto Donati, not even in jest.” He shook his head. “Honestly, if you weren’t my wife’s cousin—“

”Oh, come off it,” Brunetto smirked with a laugh. “You know we make a great pair—you with your dreaming and I with my scheming. And speaking of scheming, look who just stepped onto our bridge.”

All color drained from Dante’s pale cheeks as his eyes followed his friend’s gesturing hand. He drew in a short, shaky breath, barely managing to gasp out a single, reverent word as he clasped a trembling hand over his thumping heart.

“Beatrice!”

“Right on the first guess,” Brunetto grinned. “Beatrice Portinari, the unfairly beautiful young wife of that sickeningly wealthy banker who has in his charge all my father’s accounts. At least, all the accounts of the man my mother claimed to be my father.”

He snorted a brief burst of derisive laughter. “Did you know the ugly old fossil has actually promised that when I finally reach the so-called ‘responsible’ age of thirty he will include me in his will? Isn’t that kind of him after twenty-odd years of pretending I don’t exist? Knowing my father, though, I’ll probably inherit the family cat.”

Dante shot him a wry smirk, clapping a supportive hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Well, Brunetto, I for one hope you’re right.”

His friend looked down at him, seeming almost surprised. “About the will?”

Dante’s smirk deepened. “About the cat.”

“Ha,” Brunetto retorted with a sniff, shaking away Dante’s hand. “You’re getting quite witty in your old age, my friend.”

Dante opened his mouth to make a come-back, but Brunetto startled him with a sudden grin.

“But enough of this talk,” he said brusquely, straightening his coat and smoothing his shiny, black hair. “Come on, let’s go say hello.”

“Brunetto, no! Wait!”

But Brunetto was already sauntering up to the small group of young ladies standing just across the way.

”Buon giorno, Signora Portinari!” Brunetto said with a gallant bow, pointedly ignoring his friend’s distress. “It is a lovely day, is it not?”

Beatrice smiled, quickly lifting a pale hand to smother a giggle as her small entourage of richly dressed ladies gasped and blushed at the young man’s shamelessly forward behavior.

“Indeed it is, signore,” she responded, politely lowering her eyes. “It’s wonderful to see the sun again after all the rain we’ve had recently.”

“Ah, yes,” Brunetto nodded sagely. “The weather has been quite trying of late. But enough about the weather,” he proclaimed, jumping up to sit on the bridge railing. “Let’s talk about me.”

Beatrice looked up in startled amusement. “About you?” she repeated.

“More precisely,” Brunetto corrected, reaching out to take her hand in his and press it to his chest, looking deep into her eyes, “about us. I love you, Beatrice. I’ve always loved you. I want you to leave your husband and run away with me. Please say you will!”

Beatrice’s entourage seemed unsure whether to laugh at this outrageous display or to shout in indignation. Beatrice solved their dilemma for them by demurely removing her hand from Brunetto’s grasp a moment before he brought it to his lips for a kiss.

“As much as I enjoy our little chats, Signore Donati,” she said primly, drawing herself up with the smallest of smiles. “I really can’t waste any more time in the company of a rogue such as you. You may have no thought for your own reputation, my brash scoundrel, but to a lady such as myself, honor is everything.”

“My lady, your words are as wise as they are painful,” Brunetto said with a theatrical sigh. “So, once again I am rejected. My heart must now seek its comfort from the arms of another.” He jumped down from the railing, landing right in the middle of Beatrice’s entourage. “Any of you girls interested?” he asked with a wink.

Dante cringed in sympathy as Brunetto suddenly found himself assaulted by a dozen hands, three fans, and a bouquet of spring flowers all slapping and hitting and pushing him away, but both men were laughing even so—as were the girls who weren’t shouting out their own rejections and insults against Brunetto’s character. Mere moments later, the girls were gone, leaving Brunetto, Dante, and their two clandestine spectators alone in the middle of the old bridge.

“If only she weren’t married, eh Dante,” Brunetto sighed, nudging his friend playfully as he leaned over the side to watch the water flow under the bridge. After a moment, Dante walked over to join him.

“You treat the lady with a familiarity that is neither warranted nor proper,” he said softly. “And I don’t think it’s right.”

”She doesn’t mind,” Brunetto smiled, although he didn’t look up. “None of them do, really. If they did, I would probably have been fined or banished or locked in irons or something long ago. If you ask me, I think they rather enjoy the attention.”

“It’s still not right,” Dante insisted. “She had a point when she spoke of her honor. You risk everything she has playing foolish games like that. We aren’t children anymore, Brunetto. Even words said in jest can carry weight.”

Brunetto stared at the sparkling water, his expression tight and serious. Then, without warning, he slapped his hands against the railing, forcefully shoving himself upright as he turned on his heel and started to march away.

“You’re right,” he called over his shoulder, all trace of good humor gone from his voice. “It’s not a game anymore. In fact, it never was. I’ve got to get back to my laboratory.”

“But what about our lunch—?“ Dante started.

“I’m not hungry,” Brunetto called back. “I’ll meet up with you some other time. Good day, Dante.”

“OK…I guess I’ll just see you later, then,” Dante said softly, his expression baffled and concerned as he too turned away and started walking in the opposite direction from his friend.

“What do you think all that was about?” Jean asked, stepping away from the railing with a baffled expression of her own.

Kurt regarded her. “Clearly, they are both in love with the same unattainable woman,” he said. Then he smirked. “For a telepath, you aren’t very perceptive are you?”

Jean’s green eyes flashed. “I already told you that this place, these memories seem artificial somehow,” she said slowly, trying to keep up her calm demeanor. “And what we just saw only confirmed that impression. I don’t know if it’s me or a side effect of that strange duality I sensed before, but watching those people was like watching a scene being played out on TV. There was no emotional presence there to sense. They may as well have been holograms or cardboard cut-outs for all I could tell.”

Kurt frowned, his dark eyes suddenly disturbed. “And what about me?” he asked, sounding almost nervous. “What do you sense when you look at me?”

Jean closed her eyes, taking in a deep, calming breath as she narrowed her focus. “I sense guilt…anger…fear…pain…” And something else. Something so deep and strong she had nearly missed it. A shimmer of white against the sun, slender brown hands guiding blue as they dug into rich soil… Jean opened her eyes, looking into Kurt’s disguised face with a carefully unreadable expression

“And hope,” she finished at last, tilting her head slightly. Could it be that Kurt was harboring an ‘unattainable’ love of his own? How long had he been hiding these feelings? Did Ororo know?

Jean shook that thought away, afraid he might become angry if he realized what she had just seen. “Your presence here is real, Kurt,” she assured him. “Real and solid. The rest of this…”

She trailed off, gazing around the medieval city with a frustrated shake of her head. “What happened to you all those years ago?” she said softly, slowly turning back to look at him. “Who could have done this to you?”

“Xavier said the answer was in here somewhere,” Kurt told her, tapping his temple with a long finger. “All I have to do is find it.”

“All ‘we’ have to do, you mean,” Jean corrected. “And I think the best place to start would be that Brunetto’s lab.”

“I agree,” Kurt said. “Except for one thing.” He straightened, shooting her an imposing glare. “I’m going alone.”

“Now wait one minute—“

”Look, Jean, I don’t know what Charles was thinking when he sent you in here and I don’t care. Your presence here is a liability I can’t afford, and I want you out. If I even have a hope of regaining control from Belasco, I’m going to need—“

”You’re going to need help,” Jean cut in with a frown. “And before you start blaming Charles for this whole mess, know this first. Charles didn’t send me in here, Kurt. He doesn’t even know about it. I came on my own.” She shook her head, embarrassed. “I don’t even know why I did it, to tell you the truth,” she admitted sheepishly. “It was a foolish, ill-advised move on my part—“

”I’ll say!” Kurt exclaimed, his pale face flushing angrily. “Not only did you wake Belasco, forcing me to go into hiding again, but you nearly got us both killed! If I hadn’t—“

“And I thank you for that,” Jean interrupted again before he could finish the thought. “You went out of your way to rescue me—twice!—even after all the stupid things I said and did. But now I have an opportunity to return the favor. Let me help you, Kurt. Let me prove myself as much a friend to you as you have always been to me.”

“It’s not as easy as that,” Kurt snapped, running a frustrated hand through his black hair. “Belasco is looking for us even now, and if he finds us that fire-pit will be the least of your worries.”

”All the more reason for us to get going,” Jean said, giving his hand a gentle pull as she started walking in the direction Brunetto had gone. “If we keep moving, it will be harder for him to locate us.”

Kurt glared for a moment, then shook his head with a slight sneer. “I’m not going to get rid of you, am I?” he stated more than asked.

“I’m not leaving you, Kurt, if that’s what you mean,” she said firmly. “Like it or not, we’re in this together. Now, let’s go find Brunetto. He has to hold at least some of the answers to all this or else his memories wouldn’t be here, now would they?”

Kurt still looked conflicted, but Jean could tell her words had touched him. A moment later, he confirmed that impression with a small smile, a smile that came and went so quickly that if she hadn’t been looking for it, she would have missed it.

“Then come along, meine Freundin,” he said brusquely, leading the way towards an open doorway across the cobbled street. “Follow me.”

Jean nodded, striding after him into the blackness without hesitation. Once she was inside, Kurt grabbed her hand, startling her.

“Hang on tight,” he warned her. Before she could react, Jean suddenly felt herself falling, tumbling helplessly through the same horrible, blinding nothingness they had passed through after escaping from Belasco’s trap. But this time, she held on to Kurt’s hand out of trust instead of fear—and she knew he noticed the difference.


:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by Rowena »

Oops! I just remembered what I had forgotten! My notes for this chapter!

OK, Beatrice Portinari is a real historical figure. Her father was a Florentine citizen and she married a wealthy banker. She died in 1290 at the age of 24. According to Boccaccio's life of Dante, the poet first met her when they were both nine and they met maybe once after that in 1283 on May Day. She became the subject of many of his poems.

Dante became a member of the guild of physicians and apothecaries in Florence and became actively involved in politics at the age of thirty. This story takes place shortly before Beatrice's death, though, so he's not in the guild yet and so not eligable for office.

I chose the name Brunetto for Belasco because the philosopher and scholar Brunetto Latini probably had an influence on Dante's education and also because Brunetto looks kind of like Belasco if you squint. I made his last name Donati because Dante's wife had a relative named Corso Donati, and I thought it might be interesting to for Dante and Belasco to have family ties as well as being friends--especially considering what happens to them later on.

And those are the Author's Notes for this chapter. Sorry I left them out before!

P.S. Please Review! :D

P.P.S. That goat will be important later on. Just a hint...

:azazel
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by CurlyyHairGirl »

Originally posted by Rowena

Welcome back, CurlyyHairGirl! :D I hope you had a fantastic trip! Did you meet any interesting Ferengi or Klingons while you were there? ;)
:D Yes!! I did. There were alotta borg there too! But I forgot my camera so many times. I baught a little teddy bear that looks like Spock, and Had the Bannana's Foster *drools*

It was awesome...but the Borg invasion kinda freaked me out when the chair sticks you in the middle of the back:urg.

OH oH!!! We went to take the monorail to MGM, and there were some trekies there. Well, I was wqearing my shirt that said "I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it." and this guy read itand he said he needed a couple dozen for the people at his work:D. He asked me and my sis where we were from,CA, and he was from Paduka(sp?) Kentucky, then he said that we could go home and tell every one we met a real like red-neck trekie in full Trekie uniform:*D He was soooo coooool!!!
I did alot more, but I don't want to type it out now.

I never want to see a buffet again.:X

I hope that you are feeling better, it's never any fun being sick.

................................................
That was a long chapter :read
one name: Bruce Campbell
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by Rowena »

Hey, Everybody! Ch. 11 is done at last! I'm sorry I've been so long in updating this, but things have been so insane at home lately I've hardly even been in the computer room for days! But I stayed up late last night and finally got this chapter done. Not only that, but the next one is also well on the way. :D Hopefully I'll be able to finish it before the next crisis hits (knock on wood!).

Wow, it really sounds like you had a great time, CurlyyHairGirl! I know what you mean about the buffets! Did you see Spock's Vulcan Lute when you were there? It's the one he played in the episode "Charlie X" and it was on sale in the shop opposite Quark's Bar.

Yeah, I am feeling better now, thanks, but it took a while. My sister's the one who was really sick, though. I had to take her to the emergency room a few days ago and now she's on some heavy-duty antibiotics. She's much better already, her color's back to normal and she's well enough to go to work, but she had me really worried for a while!

John Doe, if you see this, thank you a million, zillion times for reviewing all those stories! I'm sorry I wasn't able to thank you earlier, but I haven't been able to go on-line much lately. If you don't see this, I'll send you a private message later--when I'm not late for work! Hope you had fun at camp! :D

And now... Brunetto summons the Elder Gods and Belasco's true relationship to Kurt is revealed! Enjoy! :D

Chapter Eleven

Ororo Munroe pushed her chair back from the conference table and strode over to the large window. The slowly growing tension as the gathered X-Men waited for Scott to return with Jean was causing the room to feel somewhat stuffy, and Ororo needed some fresh air.

Scott had been gone for nearly fifteen minutes now and Ororo was beginning to worry despite herself. Judging from the expressions on the faces of her colleagues, they were feeling much the same way. There was probably no cause for concern, but Ororo knew none of them would feel better until they actually saw Jean walk into the room.

Pulling back the curtains a little further, she opened the window, closing her eyes for a moment as she felt the refreshing breeze brush against her face. Her garden was just visible from this vantage point, as was the large oak tree where they had found Kurt the night before.

Ororo leaned forward slightly as she tried to locate the spot where he had been lying, her deep concern for him mingling with her worry over Jean and causing her carefully expressionless face to tighten in anxiety. Ororo made a firm mental note to check up on Kurt the moment the briefing ended. The sedative Hank had given him that morning would be wearing off in about an hour. He would probably be disoriented, even frightened, and she didn’t want him waking up alone.

Casting a final gaze at the oak tree, Ororo started to turn around when something black caught her attention, meandering slowly into her peripheral vision. She blinked, surprised to see a rather large, black goat looking up at her from the lawn by her garden. She squinted a little, wondering where it could have come from, when she noticed something that made her do a double take. It was probably just the way the goat was standing in relation to the sun, but to Ororo’s eyes it seemed that the shadow cast by the animal was not that of a goat, but of a man.

She shook her head, blinking a few times before taking another look. The goat stared back, its large eyes focused directly on her. Ororo shivered despite herself. There was something suspicious about this goat; something wrong. The way it was staring up at her in that eerie, almost knowing way… Ororo doubted that it was just a trick of the sunlight that made its eyes seem to glow red.

She was just about to alert the others that there was an intruder on the grounds when the goat gave a soft bleat, then lowered its gaze, suddenly appearing to take a strong interest in the grass. As it wandered away, Ororo turned from the window, all thoughts of warning the others gone from her mind. Without a word, she strode across the room and out the door, her chin raised and her crystal eyes filled with purpose.

Hank looked to the Professor, a question in his expression—a question which Erik voiced barely a moment later.

“And where is she off to in such a hurry?” the imposing mutant asked, leaning forward in his chair, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

Xavier shook his bald head, at a loss. “I’m not sure,” he said, somewhat concerned. “I sensed a spike of apprehension from her, and then….nothing.” He frowned, steepling his fingers before him. “Perhaps she—“

“Professor!”

It was Scott’s voice, piping in over the intercom. The remaining X-Men gave a start at the unexpected interruption, but Scott didn’t give them a chance to recover, the urgency in his voice bringing them to attention at once.

“We’ve got a major problem,” he said. “You’ve all got to come down to the medbay…and fast.”

“What is it, Scott,” Xavier queried, his voice calm despite the sudden tension visible in his face and posture. “Have you found Jean?”

“She’s here,” he responded, “but she’s unconscious. I can’t get her to wake up. And our guest seems to be having some kind of fit. He’s unconscious too—I think—but he can’t seem to keep still and those machines he’s hooked up to are going crazy.”

Xavier stretched out with his mind, his eyes widening as his senses brushed against the chaotic turmoil filling the minds of both Jean and Kurt.

“We’ll be down momentarily, Scott,” he announced, already backing his chair away from the table and wheeling towards the door. Hank and Erik followed close behind, deeply concerned by the Professor’s obvious alarm. “Do not lower the force field. Erik,” he said, turning his head to face his old friend as they hurried down the corridor, “I’d appreciate it if you would boot up Cerebro for me—just in case. I’ve a feeling we may need to put a few of your recent modifications to the test.”

Erik nodded curtly, peeling away down an adjacent corridor as Hank and the Professor packed themselves into the elevator bound for the medbay.

*******

Brunetto’s laboratory was little more than a cramped, cluttered room at the back of his tiny house. The tall man was standing in the far corner, hunched over a narrow table painted with various symbols and runes. Kurt frowned from the dark corner where he and Jean were concealed, leaning forward slightly to get a better look.

“What is it?” Jean asked, trying to see what he was frowning at.

“That pentagram,” he whispered back, still uncertain as to whether Brunetto could see them or not. “And those strange runes…” He frowned in concentration, his eyes distant with memory. “I’ve seen them before…when I was a child. I remember—my foster mother, Margali, she had them painted on the table where she sat when she told people their fortunes. She told me they were part of a spell of summoning, that she used them to summon spirits to help her in her work.”

He leaned back against the wall, casting a quick glance at Jean. His intense, dark eyes burned into hers, his lean, pale features tight with apprehension. Both of them were still in disguise, and Jean had to be very careful not to let her long skirts rustle as she moved to lean beside him.

“What do you think he’s doing?” she asked curiously, following his gaze as they watched Brunetto open a cloth bag and begin removing a number of bright stones of the deepest red, arranging them in a careful pattern on the painted pentagram.

Kurt just gave a distracted shake of his head, his attention focused fully on Brunetto and his stones. Jean closed her mouth, listening with careful attention as Brunetto began to speak. It was only then that she noticed the large, black bird perched in the wooden cage on the shelf above the table. It peered down at Brunetto through sharp, beady eyes, looking almost as though it could understand his words.

“I know I can’t put it off any longer, my friend,” he said to the bird, his voice soft and distant. “The appointed time is swiftly approaching, and yet I hesitate.”

He pushed away from his table, striding across the small space to room’s only window. His profile was little more than a silhouette among the shadows, but his dark eyes glittered in the fading sunlight.

“I have done everything the demon has asked of me so far. I have ingratiated myself to Beatrice Portinari, acted the fool for her amusement. She suspects nothing. There are even times when I….when I think she might like me.” He chuckled softly, but it sounded more like a sob.

“Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into!” He clawed a hand through his dark hair, blinking rapidly, his nostrils flaring slightly as he fought to reign in his emotions. “I know what it is the Elder Gods expect of me, but when I made this bargain I never thought…I never…”

He turned to face his bird, his anguish plain to see. “I never believed any woman could touch my heart as Beatrice has. I have always prided myself on my control, that I am ruled by my head rather than my heart. But the way she looks at me, Tanaquil…her sly little smile… She makes me feel, as I have never felt before. I am more alive in her presence; colors are brighter, sounds more resonant.” He smiled, a soft, distant quirk of his lips. “She is like an angel, my friend, her every smile a sweet benediction warming my frosty heart.”

Tanaquil gave a low squawk, ruffling her feathers as she shifted position on her perch. Brunetto frowned.

“Yes, you’re right, Tanaquil,” he acknowledged, lifting his head as he firmly schooled his thin features. “I don’t know what’s come over me. Next thing you know I’ll be spouting poetry; as hopeless a romantic as old Dante.” He smirked with an air of superior distain. “No, my friend, this is not a time for sentiment. I must maintain my control; detach myself from the crude emotions she stirs in me. The bloodstones are in place and the Elder Gods are waiting to hear of my progress. I have upheld my part of the bargain. It is now time to see if they will keep theirs.”

The bird squawked again, tilting her head at him with a snap of her beak. Brunetto smiled; a cold, hungry grin. “Just think of it, Tanaquil,” he said, his dark eyes glittering. “All the knowledge, all the power of the supernatural rests just inches from my grasp. No more guesswork, no more theorizing, no more laborious experimentation… All the mysteries of the universe will be unlocked for me, and only for me.” He cackled a laugh worthy of Vincent Price or Christopher Lee. The maniacal sound sent chills shivering up Jean’s spine. Kurt just watched, completely absorbed in the scene playing out before them as Brunetto went on.

“To have all my questions answered, to finally know the truth… It would be worth any price, would it not?” he asked the bird. “And what is Beatrice to me, anyway? She is a married woman, and even if she were not she wouldn’t look twice at someone like me. I have no money, no family—I can’t even point out my natural father with any real confidence. Anything I may feel for her is only wishful thinking on my part, and I have never been one to harbor such foolish delusions. Besides,” he added, some of the confidence slipping from his tone. “whatever it is the Elder Gods want with her, I’m sure they wouldn’t harm her. Otherwise, why go through all the trouble of getting me to become so friendly with her?”

Tanaquil didn’t answer; more intent on preening her feathers than assuaging Brunetto’s uncertainty. It didn’t matter anyway, because a moment later, that uncertainty had passed. Brunetto clutched the side of his lab table, his dark eyes hardening as he realized he had just made his decision.

“I told Dante once that I would willingly spend an eternity in the company of the Devil himself if he answered my questions,” he said softly, staring down at the carefully arranged bloodstones, his pulse beginning to quicken. “And it’s true. If that is the cost of ultimate understanding, I am ready to pay.” He looked up at his pet with a quick flash of a smile, then lowered his head as he splayed his fingers above the stones.

“Well, Tanaquil, there’s no turning back now,” he said, his voice as steady as his hands. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath, then spoke a short incantation consisting of three words:

“Veni mihi, Azazel!”

The bloodstones flashed once, then began to glow with an intense light that only grew brighter as they cast a sparkling pattern of light against the ceiling. Brunetto removed his hands and took a step back, his features composed and his expression calm. He had made his choice, confident that he could handle the consequences it would bring. Little did he realize that his confidence would prove to be his undoing…

The sparkling, red lights began to spin and whirl, deepening and thickening until they had created a physical vortex, slowly widening as it continued to grow. Beyond the swirling vortex a strange, smoky landscape came into view. It was barren and rocky, bathed in a reddish light that reflected dimly off the thick, sulfurous clouds hanging heavily in the sky. And looming in the near distance was an ancient, crumbling castle, majestic yet terrifying with narrow, fang-like spires that thrust upwards into the gloom.

Kurt gasped out loud, alarmed as he realized he recognized the structure and the lean, armored man standing on the drawbridge. The deep, red skin, the devilish goatee, the cold triumph gleaming in his fierce, yellow eyes…

“Greetings, Azazel,” Brunetto nodded politely, apparently oblivious to the sharp sound Kurt had just made.

“Brunetto Donati,” the demon grinned, his sharp, white teeth flashing as he rode the widening portal down the wall until he was standing at the level of the floor. “Right on time, as I had expected. Tell me,” he said, his intense eyes darkening. “How goes things with the lovely Beatrice?”

“Extremely well,” Brunetto announced, his tone almost light. His stance bordered on cocky as he looked Azazel straight in the eye, refusing to be intimidated by the powerful being he knew as the leader of the Elder Gods. “We have become quite friendly over the past few months. Everything is working out exactly as you predicted.”

Azazel’s grin broadened, his eyes alight with something like pride. “I knew you would not disappoint me,” he said, reaching for something out of sight beyond the vortex. “And now I expect you are waiting to see if I will fulfill my part of the bargain.”

“That’s right,” Brunetto nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, never fear, my son,” the demon smiled, holding a large, steaming goblet out for Brunetto to take. It seemed to be carved from the same dull, red rock that dominated the landscape behind him.

“Take this goblet and drink the contents,” he instructed, pushing his hand through the whirling portal with some difficulty. “By this action, you will seal our pact and gain the power you desire. Only then can I begin to impart to you the knowledge that you seek.”

Brunetto stared at the smoking goblet for a long moment, swallowing a deep shudder. Then he squared his shoulders, reaching out to take the goblet from Azazel.

“What is this?” he grimaced, his nose wrinkling at the sharp smell of the smoking drink.

“It is merely a catalyst, based on a formula discovered by one Henry McCoy several centuries from now,” Azazel explained, enjoying the thoroughly lost look on Brunetto’s face. “It will cause a reaction in your system that will activate the mutant gene you inherited from me.” The demon smiled, his hard expression as close to reassuring as he could make it. “Drink it, Brunetto,” he said, “and everything I just said will become clear to you.”

Brunetto raised the goblet to his lips, then hesitated, peering back at the demon over the rim.

“What will happen once I drink this?” he asked, his hands shaking slightly as he struggled to maintain his resolve. “What will it do to me?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure,” Azazel admitted, his expression softening even further. “The mutant gene varies from individual to individual. But it should be quite interesting to find out.”

“What do you mean by that?” Brunetto almost squeaked.

“Just drink,” the demon ordered, “and all these questions will be answered.”

Brunetto swallowed hard, then nodded. Squeezing his eyes closed, he drained the goblet, gasping slightly as dropped it to the floor, then clutched his hand to his throat.

“Madre di Dio,” he exclaimed, his eyes tearing as he doubled over in pain. “Oh, God, it hurts. What have you done to me?”

“Yes,” Azazel nodded in false sympathy. “It will hurt. But the pain will pass, believe me.”

Brunetto reached out blindly for the support of his table, but he collapsed to the floor before he could reach it, curling into a tight ball as he writhed in pain. Azazel just watched, coldly, clinically, the smallest of smiles twisting his lips as Brunetto’s eyes shot wide open. Their dark irises were gone now, replaced by bright, glowing yellow. His pale, flushed face was deepening in color, becoming nearly as red as Azazel’s own skin.

“I’m proud of you, my son,” the demon smiled, amused and delighted as a long, spade-tipped tail made its appearance, lashing violently in a reflection of Brunetto’s abject agony. “You alone, out of all my children, have never yet failed me. Finally, after all these centuries of waiting and scheming, I shall finally return to rule my earth. And you will be my instrument. Let us hope that you continue to serve me as successfully as you always have now that it matters most, my brave, loyal Belasco.”

Chuckling happily to himself, Azazel pressed a palm against the thin barrier separating his dimension from that of Earth, testing its strength. Brunetto’s summons had managed to bring the two dimensional planes close enough together for the demon to cross over from one to another, but that rare proximity would not last long. He would have to work fast if he was to accomplish his goal before the dimensions parted and he was ripped back to the hot, barren pit that had served as his prison for so many centuries.

Stepping gracefully into Brunetto’s cramped, cluttered lab, Azazel pressed a button on his thick belt. The dusty air around him shimmered as his form and clothing began to change. A moment later, he had become the spitting image of Brunetto Donati—before he drank the potion. Taking a moment to check his appearance in the small mirror he kept in his pocket, Azazel smoothed his dark hair, then casually stepped over his screaming son, leaving him to endure the pain of his transformation alone except for Tanaquil’s agitated shrieks and the unnoticed company of two stunned eavesdroppers.



See you next time! Now, though, I've really got to be off to work. I'll be back soon with more story! :D If you spot any mistakes or typos or anything in this chapter, just let me know and I'll be more than happy to fix them. Thanks so much for reading! :D


:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by CurlyyHairGirl »

I had a blast!
No! I didn't see the lute, I think one of the trekies must have bought it, the hotel was packed with 'em. At least my eating habits are back in order, but I still feel sick when I hear the word Buffet.

Back on topic.

Wow. That is a long chapter. And the introduction of Azazel gave me the shivers. And as I always say, and I'm gonna say it again...Don't rush, go at your own pace and hope to your favorite higher power that your computer dosn't go screwy on you.;)
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by Rowena »

OK, good advice. I'll take it! Thank you very much for reading my story, and for all your comments. I just want you all to know that I very deeply appreciate all the feedback you have left for me!
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by CurlyyHairGirl »

You know we love your work, Rowena, all I want to say is that with school back in session, there will most likely be less posts...unless you're me and put homework off till the last minute so that you could read all the fabulouness and keep up with the latest new...*sigh*...don't worry you head...AND ALWAYS SAVE YOUR WORK ON A DISK!!! It helps!!!
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Post by Rowena »

I understand completely about school. And I do save my work on disks--I've got piles of them. After nearly suffering a stroke when my Catch-22/Dr. Strangelove paper got eaten by my computer, I've made that a strict policy! :)

Back to the topic of school, though...I think that this will have to be my last story for a while. These stories are so much fun to think up and write, and even more fun to share and find out what other fans think of my ideas, but they also take an enormous amount of time, energy, and emotional involvement which I'm going have to direct entirely towards History now. I'll finish this one up--it's almost done anyway--and then I'll have to stop. At least for a while, anyway. It depends on how my scholarship applications and things pan out how long a while that might be. I have a bunch of other stories in the works, but only one of them is finished--Fabella Corvi--and the rest range from half-done to nearly done to just an outline. I was trying really hard to finish at least some of them up before I'd have to stop writing, but unfortunately I wasn't able to.

So that's pretty much what I came to say. This will be the last story that I post for a while, but I will finish it. As always, thank you so much for reading. You can't know how much your responses have meant to me this summer. I've always been so painfully shy...always sitting alone in the lunch room with my nose lodged in a dusty old book. I never realized how exciting it could be to share my stories and even my pictures with other people. Thank you again, and thank you for helping me to open up, at least a little.

I'll be back soon with more of this story. School starts on Wednesday, and I'm hoping finish the story over the next two weeks or so. That's when I'll really have to say good-bye (for a while). *sniffle*

Until then, my friends!


:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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*sniffles*

Post by CurlyyHairGirl »

:cry Me gonna miss ya Rowena, *Sniffles* but ya gotta do what ya gotta do, and at least school starts for you on wednsday, ours started 3 weeks ago:X

remember, we will always be here waiting, PATIENTLY PEOPLE!!!, for your return. Have a great school year, and I hope your scholarships go well.

P.S. I look forward to the next bit of this story, and I'm happy if I helped you to be less shy:)

*give Rowena big huggles*:*):bamf
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by Rowena »

Thanks CurlyyHairGirl! :D

Well, the next bit of story is done! I'm still swamped with schoolwork and stuff, though, so unfortunately it will still be a long time before the next chapter is up. But now you have this new chapter to hold you over! Oh, and before I forget:

If anyone's interested in knowing what the bridge where Dante and Brunetto met Beatrice looks like, there's a painting by Henry Holiday (1839-1927) that pretty much illustrates it. It was painted in 1883 and it's called "Dante and Beatrice." They're pictured on the Ponte di Santa Trinità in Florence. I'll put the picture at the end of the chapter so you all can see it. :D

And now: Here at long last is Ch. 12! Please let me know what you think of it! :D

Chapter Twelve

"Welcome Magneto."

Erik blinked away the residual tingle from the retinal scan, his thin lips twitching slightly upwards as the thick, rounded doors slid open before him with a pneumonic CHLNK-WHOOSH. Aiming a brief nod at the wary security camera, the imposing, silver-haired mutant strode down the suspended corridor to the control station situated in the center of the enormous, spherical room.

His expression softened somewhat as he ran his hands over the cool metal of the controls, letting his eyes drift over the complicated arrangement of switches, levers, and keypads that blinked and twinkled in the dimness of the cavernous space. Even after all this time it still felt slightly odd to be able to stand there so freely, without having to be on the alert against tripping an alarm or a surprise attack by Xavier's X-Men. He and his old friend had been on opposing sides for decades, each doing his best to put an end to the other and all he stood for. To be here now, alone in the very power center of Xavier's entire organization—and welcome to be so—was still somewhat surreal. Yet it felt familiar as well. It felt right.

It was the human problem that had forced Charles and Erik to become adversaries; that had forced mutants to fight mutants for such an unconscionably long time. Xavier had wanted to work with the humans towards a dream of peace that Erik had known would never come to pass. Now that the world was almost entirely populated by mutants, however, there was no longer any cause for the hostility that had grown up between Magneto's Brotherhood and Xavier's X-Men to continue, and they had long ago joined forces under a single banner. Peaceful coexistence had finally become a reality, but it was the mutants who were calling the shots. The few humans that remained were grateful for the benevolent protection of the X-Men. And, to Erik's mind, that was just as it should be.

Taking a deep breath, Erik turned slowly in place, his eyes glittering with more than a little pride as he took a few moments to just drink in the room. Before they'd had their falling out, Erik had been Xavier's partner in creating the massive computer subsequently dubbed Cerebro. This was his machine, his design. Charles had supplied the funds and the specifications—he had been the idea man, as it were—but Erik had done the actual work. Even now there was only one person living who knew its workings as well as he did, and that was Xavier himself.

The purpose of the massive machine was to amplify and direct the Professor's considerable telepathic capabilities, allowing him to locate and even contact every living person—mutant or human—on the planet. When he put on the specially designed helmet, it literally gave him the power of life and death over the entire population of the Earth. But today, Erik was only interested in turning the machine's focus to a single individual. And that individual was lying in the mansion's own medical bay.

"Cerebro," he called out, his rich, commanding voice resonating almost eerily against the curved, metal walls. "Identify: Erik Lehnsherr, authorization code 624N38S 76C5."* [ Author's Note: Magneto's authorization code really is in code! Care to try your hand at cracking it? Your telephone holds the key to deciphering the secret message! (Hint: It's a two word phrase, NOT a telephone number!) The answer will be revealed when I post the next chapter. Have fun! ]

"Identity verified," the computer's calm female voice responded. "Good afternoon, Erik."

"And good afternoon to you, Cerebro." This time Erik's smile was more obvious. While he was quite aware that the highly advanced computer didn't truly understand such social niceties, in Erik's opinion it never hurt to be polite. "We have a visitor down in sector one of the mansion subbasement. Scan his mind and activate program Lehnsherr4. Use the newly installed holoemitters to project the results."

"Working," the computer announced evenly. "Please stand by."

"I'll sit, if you don't mind." Reaching under the main console, Erik rolled out an upholstered stool, lowering himself onto it with a smug smile. A moment later, however, all traces of smugness vanished as the dim room was filled with the intermittent glow of a flashing red light.

"Warning," Cerebro alerted. "Contaminated data. Aborting procedure."

"Override," Erik frowned, sitting up on his stool and tapping at the keypads. "Identify contamination."

"Multiple individuals detected. Evidence of psychic tampering found."

"Identify the individuals," Erik ordered.

Immediately, three screens on the console before him filled with data. Leaning forward, Erik scanned his eyes over the details, a deep furrow forming in his pale brow. After a moment, he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, speaking more to himself than to the computer.

"So, this is what that insufferable red-head has been up to. Going in all by herself...I would have thought she had more sense." He shook his head with a sneer of disdain, reaching out to switch on the communications link. "No doubt Charles will want to hear of this..."

*******

The goat was standing in the sun just beyond the outskirts of the small wood that had originally marked the northern boundary of the extensive Xavier estate. It was wild, overgrown, and seldom frequented because of its distance from the mansion. Most of the students preferred to explore the carefully cultivated gardens and grounds nearer to the school over trekking more than four miles (which was really eight because of the return trip) over such a hilly, rocky section of land. And it was quite a hike—unless, of course, one could fly.

Ororo Munroe alighted on the thick, shaggy grass with a graceful dip of her knees, allowing them to absorb the slight impact. She was staring straight ahead, straight-backed and motionless. The goat's large eyes twinkled with an almost human satisfaction at the sight.

"This is the woman, my lord?" a deep, guttural voice growled from the shadows of the trees.

"She is," a serpentine, female voice confirmed. Turning its head in her direction, the goat stamped the ground three times with his left front hoof. Almost instantly, the air around him began to shimmer. With a swirl of orange energy, his form morphed and lengthened into the figure of a tall, well-muscled man. His dark, russet features were hard, his golden eyes as cold as his frown. His hair was short, thick, and black and, although he had no horns, his neat goatee, pointed ears, and spaded tail were more than enough to lend him a chillingly demonic air.

The tall, sinister man reached out a strong hand to guide a slender, bald woman into the grassy clearing. Once she was free of the concealing shadows, her need for such guidance became gruesomely clear. The woman's eyes had been sewn shut with large, uneven stitches. The needle had left horrific scars that had long since healed over, further sealing her eyelids closed. Despite her disfigurement, however, her bearing was confident and composed as she reached out to run her long, bony fingers down Ororo's unnaturally still face.

"The potential is there, my lord," she reported smugly. "Your intuition was flawless, as usual. Even given his present form, she cannot continue to deny her feelings for much longer."

"Thank you, Ginniyeh," the devilish man smiled, an expression that somehow made him seem even more menacing. "You see how well I know my son. We are not as dissimilar as he would like to believe." His smile twisted into a smirk, his smoldering eyes dark with memory. "We both harbor a weakness for powerful women."

Straightening abruptly, he turned to the wood, snapping, "Ydrazil! Drop that squirrel and come here."

An enormous man with long, scraggly hair and a dirty eye patch shot a remorseful glance at the half-chewed rodent in his hands, but he obediently dropped it, wiping his thick hands on his stained tunic.

"Yes, my lord," he grunted in his low, harsh voice, reaching into the leather pouch hanging at his side and pulling out a surprisingly sophisticated-looking object that was about the same size and shape as a pen. "The device is loaded, just like you ordered."

"Hmm," the demon grunted, snatching the object and examining it for himself. Slowly, a grudging smile spread over his chiseled features.

"Very good, Ydrazil," he acknowledged, sparing a glance at the hulking man before striding up to face Ororo. He took her chin in his hand, looking her up and down then staring deeply into her crystal blue eyes. Nodding once in apparent satisfaction, the demonic man raised the small device to her temple and pressed his thumb against a round, black button on its side. There was a sound like a staple gun, then he pulled the device away. The only evidence of what he had done was a small, round bruise, the slight discoloration nearly invisible against the creamy mocha of Ororo's skin.

"Send her back now, Ginniyeh," he ordered, handing the device to Ydrazil as he took a step back. "Be sure she retains no memory of our little encounter here."

"She will remember nothing, my lord," the bald telepath assured him confidently. The devilish man nodded, watching in undisguised fascination as Ororo summoned a wind and used it to lift off the ground, flying back to the mansion without a sound. Once she was out of sight, Ginniyeh squared her shoulders, turning to face her master with unseeing eyes.

"My lord Azazel," she said, "please forgive my questioning, but since you continue to shield your thoughts from me I have no other recourse but to ask. I still do not understand why you wished to tag that woman as you would one of your own children, or why you approached the other woman earlier today. The telepath."

Azazel raised an eyebrow, but did not shift his gaze from the direction Ororo had gone.

"I like to keep tabs on all my children," he said simply. "Not only on what they see and do, but also on what others may say about them in their absence. Such information is particularly vital to me in this case. My son must be observed, his actions monitored. Hence, the microchip I just implanted beneath that woman's skin."

"And that Jean Summers woman?"

Azazel didn't answer, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon. Ginniyeh scowled in frustration.

"My lord, you have never been so cryptic about your plans before," she pressed. "At least, not with me. You dealt with that insolent Kurt Wagner years ago. Why come here, to this time, just to—"

"Never fear, my dear Ginniyeh," the demon cut her off, turning to face her at last. His tone was conciliatory, but his golden eyes gave a dangerous flash. "My plans will become clear...in time."

*******

"Kurt, what are you doing?" Jean hissed, shooting an anxious look over her shoulder in the direction Azazel had recently gone. "Get back here!"

"This is a memory, Jean," Kurt pointed out from his crouch by his unconscious brother's side. "He's not coming back. Even that blasted bird has stopped squawking."

Jean felt a hot flush spread over her face. "Oh, right. In a link as deep as this, it's often easy to forget..."

Realizing that Kurt wasn't paying any attention to her, she trailed off. Slowly, she left the safety of the corner to crouch beside him, both of them looking down at Brunetto's still form. It was a long while before Kurt finally spoke.

"I can remember, Jean," he said softly, his voice slightly strained. "It's just a few flashes but..." He looked up at her, pain filling his dark eyes. "He left me the same way. My fa—Azazel." He turned away sharply, hiding his expression from view.

"I remember the pain," he whispered. "I was strapped to a table; alone, screaming..." He took in a shaky breath, slowly turning back to her. Jean watched him with growing concern, disturbed at the way his eyes now seemed remote, almost detached. She wanted to reach out to him, but she restrained herself, afraid that he would stop speaking if she did. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap, giving him her full attention as he went on. Kurt shook his head with a disgusted frown, giving a short, mirthless snort.

"And he just smiled." he stated flatly. "He laughed and walked away, leaving me alone to watch as my fingers split—"

He clenched his pale fist convulsively, swallowing hard as he lowered his head. Jean instinctively moved closer to him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. When Kurt didn't shrug her away, she risked a brief, supportive squeeze.

"You are starting to remember," she said gently. "These are your own memories, not what the monsters that did this to you implanted in your head. That's the first step to breaking free, Kurt, to beating Belasco once and for all."

"But he will still be there, Jean," Kurt retorted, the knuckles of his clenched fist beginning to whiten. "I know that now. Even if I do manage to take control from him, he'll still be hovering in the background, as much a ghost as I was."

He scowled, rising to his feet in one, fluid movement and crossing the room to the window. "No matter how hard I fight, I will never be rid of him."

Jean shook her head and stood up with her back to the motionless Belasco. "Listen to me, Kurt," she said firmly. "You don't have to fight him alone anymore. You're with your friends now, and we can help you. We understand that you can't be held accountable—"

Kurt raised his hand to cut her off, turning to face her with a shake of his head. However, whatever he was about to say died on his lips at the surreal sight of a ghostly Belasco coalescing over the still body of his unconscious self.

"Jean—move!" Kurt exclaimed. "Now!"

Jean gave a start, but before she could turn to look behind her a strong arm had her pinned with a clawed hand at her throat. She gagged, Belasco's tightening grip cutting off her air supply and rendering her helpless.

"So, you thought you could hide from me?" the demon glared at Kurt, his cold voice hissing in his captive's ear. "What are you supposed to be, anyway? One of those old movie stars you used to idolize?" He snorted. "Idiot."

Kurt made to move forward, but Belasco only used his tail to pull Jean closer.

"Don't even think about it, hero," the demon spat. "Like you, she's in my mind so deep that if I kill her here, she's dead. You are both my prisoners now."

Kurt shot him a diamond-hard glare, his jaw working in silent fury as his mind quickly ran through his options. Jean's features were beginning to purple, her green eyes wide as she struggled for breath...

"All right!" he exclaimed fiercely, thrusting his hands above his head in angry frustration. "We're your prisoners. I surrender, is that what you want to hear? Now let go of her."

"It's a start," Belasco smirked, loosening his grip on Jean's throat only enough so she could breathe more easily, her purpling face fading slowly back to flushed red as she gasped for air.

"I must admit, this was much easier than I had expected," the demon remarked. "Should I be on my guard for some sort of trap here, or were you really so moved by my oh-so-dramatic," he paused for a moment as if searching for the right word, "...metamorphosis..." he grinned, "that you allowed your guard to drop?"

Kurt was silent, his narrow features set. The demon's grin broadened. "I'm touched," he said, his tone laced with irony. "But of course, your concern was completely wasted. My father gave me exactly what he had promised. And now, the knowledge of both the natural and the supernatural world belongs to me."

"You're a fool," Kurt snapped, his blunt words catching Belasco off guard. The demon glared at him, unconsciously bearing his fangs as he tightened his grip on Jean's neck once more.

"What did you just say?"

"I said you're a fool," Kurt repeated in the same tone. "Azazel used you, and you walked right into his arms. You gave him Beatrice in return for an eternity as his slave."

Belasco's expression slackened for one shocked moment, then almost immediately his russet features tightened with irrational fury. Throwing Jean to the floor, he lunged at Kurt with a ferocious cry.

"How dare you speak her name!" the livid demon roared. "You are not worthy to even hear it spoken, you barbarous freak!"

"Are you speaking of me, or of yourself," Kurt retorted, shoving the demon off him with a sharp knee to the gut. Belasco doubled over with a gasp, the hateful glare he shot at Kurt enough to send a shiver down Jean's spine even though she was halfway across the room, curled up beside Bruneto's lab table and struggling to recover her breath.

"You didn't kill Beatrice, did you," Kurt went on with an uncharacteristic sneer, his eyes dark with loathing. "You just accepted the blame because of your guilt over the way you had set her up. You led Azazel right to her, and he left you alone—trapped in the body of a freakish, red-skinned monster—to take the blame for her rape and later, her resulting murder. All these years, her death has tortured you, eating you up inside. So, you took it out on me, and on all those other X-Men you tortured and killed in that forsaken fire-pit you had the dubious honor of calling your 'realm'."

The wrath slowly faded from Belasco's narrow face as he gingerly straightened back to his full height, stepping forward in his red-leather boots to look Kurt straight in the eye. Kurt met his stare without blinking, his features hard and determined. After a long moment, Belasco looked away; a small, humorless laugh rising in his throat.

"Now who is the fool?" he said with a contemptuous smirk. "Perhaps you thought you could wound me with your words? Take advantage of my weakness?" His golden eyes darkened as he took a step closer to Kurt, who had not left his position beside the window. They were standing practically nose to nose; two silhouettes looming against the sunset sky.

"You forget, mein Herr," Belasco hissed in a mocking parody of Kurt's faint accent, "a demon has no conscience to prick. For me, the power I gained from that bargain was more than worth the cost of a single life. And now, Beatrice's twin children serve my father as two of his most loyal subjects—apart from me of course." A cold smile stretched over his crimson face, but it brought no light to his chilling eyes. "I feel no guilt over what I have done. Nor over what I am about to do to you and your nosy friend right now."

Before Kurt could react, Belasco snapped his fingers with a malicious laugh. Instantly, the cramped, medieval laboratory vanished in a rush of reeking flames. Jean cried out in alarm as a lapping tongue of greenish fire spurted up beside her, singing her short hair.

"Jean!" Kurt exclaimed, clearly torn between rushing to her aid and keeping Belasco in his sights. The demon's bone-chilling laughter seemed to be everywhere at once, mingling with the roar of the flames and the loud rumbling from the ground quaking violently beneath their feet. As he raised his one arm with a powerful thrust, a sharp precipice of rugged stone shot up into the air. Belasco was perched on top, seated on a majestic obsidian throne.

"Now, once and for all you will learn who is the master here," Belasco proclaimed, the flames casting his face into shadow, his yellow eyes glinting in the sickly light. "You will see how the Lord of Limbo deals with those who would defy him."

"The former lord, you mean," Kurt retorted, reaching down to help Jean to her feet once the ground had settled. "If I recall correctly, you were kicked out of Limbo by your own apprentice weren't you. A teenaged girl named Illyana Rasputin."

Belasco gave a roar of fury, the walls of greenish flame flaring up in a reflection of his outrage. Suddenly, Kurt found himself trapped in a metal cage, suspended in the air beside Belasco's enormous throne. Looking down, he saw Jean was now alone, standing in a rapidly shrinking circle of white-hot flames. It was clearly taking all her psychic energy to keep from being broiled alive, and Kurt knew she wouldn't be able to keep it up for much longer.

"You won't be able to rid yourself of us so easily, Belasco," he yelled over the crackling flames, trying to distract the demon's attention from Jean long enough to enable her to build a psychic shield around herself.

"Why not?" the demon asked, turning to face his helpless half-brother with a maliciously triumphant grin. "We're playing by my rules, not yours. Here, whatever I say must come to pass." He laughed again; a horrible, gloating sound. "You may have managed to wrestle control from me once, Kurt Wagner, but let's see how long you can last after I cast you adrift on the midden mire."

"Nein..." Kurt looked around frantically, concentrating as hard as he could on teleporting himself out of the doorless cage. To his horror, however, his efforts only made Belasco laugh harder. Shooting him one last, victorious grin, Belasco snapped his fingers. There was a flash of crimson smoke, and suddenly Kurt and his cage were sent hurtling head-long into the howling chaos of the midden mire, leaving Belasco to turn his full attention to his remaining victim.

*******


Tune in next time for another exciting chapter of 'Belasco's Beatrice'! :D

:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
Rowena
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by Rowena »

The picture I was talking about at the start of the last post can be found at this site:

http://www.immaginariofiorentino.com/immagin/dante.jpg


I hope everyone had a fantastic Halloween! :D
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
CurlyyHairGirl
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by CurlyyHairGirl »

Ooo00! Picture....

Erg! That derned Belasco. Sneakin' up on people. Dosn't he know how rude that is..tut tut. He gets a big bag of coal for the holidays.

LOVED the Belasco bashing lines where Kurt was rubbing the fact that Belasco was kicked out of Limbo:LOL LOVE IT!!!
one name: Bruce Campbell
Rowena
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Belasco's Beatrice (COMPLETELY Complete! Please Review!)

Post by Rowena »

Iiiiittttt'sss back!!! Here at long, long, long, long last is Ch. 13 of Belasco's Beatrice. Gosh, it's been so long even I'd forgotten what was going on! There's not much more to go, though. A few more chapters, and the story will be done.

Sorry about the wait!

And now, let the chapter commence! :D

Chapter Thirteen

…Monster…
…Demon…
…Freak…


The harpy-like voices were calling to him, clawing at him with long, ghostly fingers. Swirling faces mocked and teased him, rocking his narrow cage with derisive laughter and terrified shrieks. The rain fell, neverending: black and slick and cold. It was accompanied by a howling wind that blew the harsh taunts around and through him, filling his heart with bitter pain.

…Mutant…
…Teufel…
…Mörder…


He was alone, abandoned. A prisoner in a cage, condemned to serve an eternal sentence. Just what his crime was, he had forgotten. The swirling mists of the midden mire had stolen the details from him, leaving only searing guilt and the impression of a horrible wrong. He had been running, running…running from something. There was intense pain and panic—a blinding, animalistic terror. A cold chill had clutched his stomach, freezing his mind; a dreadful certainty unlike any he had felt before. He had done something then, committed a crime he could no longer recall. Whatever he had done, however it had happened, he knew he had earned this fate. His punishment was just.

If he could only remember his name…

*******

“You called me just in time, old friend,” Xavier said as he carefully removed the sleek, specially designed helmet from his bald head. The holographic interpretation of the stark, fiery landscape that was Belasco’s relam faded out with an imploded flash, leaving only the curved, metallic walls of Cerebro. Erik shot the Professor a grave look from his place beside him at the console. Ororo and Scott peered anxiously over their shoulders from the long, suspended ramp that connected Cerebro’s control center to the sliding door, frustrated by their inability to help. Dr. McCoy had chosen to remain in the medbay, keeping watch over the bodies of Jean and Kurt while Xavier worked to contact their minds. “Another minute and it would have been too late. As it is, I think Jean will now be able to keep Belasco distracted long enough for me to find Kurt.”

“You sound so sure of that,” Scott frowned. “She was nearly burnt out when we arrived here. Belasco was about to—”

“I’ve strengthened her connection with her body and reestablished her escape route,” Xavier explained brusquely, his hands flying over the keypads. Then he paused, glancing up a Scott with a reassuring look. “She’ll be able to pull herself out now if Belasco proves to be too much for her to handle on her own. But my main concern now is finding Kurt. Without him, there is no way to stop Belasco from dominating once more.”

Ororo furrowed her brow. “But, Charles, it is Kurt’s mind. I don’t understand how he can be pushed aside by this implanted personality so easily. What prevents him from fighting back?”

Xavier sighed, closing his eyes for a moment in order to better steel himself for the difficulty of what he was about to say. It was always hard to witness the scars of telepathic abuse, especially in one so close to him.

“Kurt has been a victim of massive psychic tampering, Ororo,” he explained, “deliberately performed by a telepath with powers that rival my own. It seems that Kurt’s brain has been ‘rewired,’ as it were, to support the implanted personality at the expense of his own. From what I’m seeing here, it’s nothing short of a miracle that he has been able to fight back at all. For all intents and purposes, his personality should have been erased long ago. Look here.”

He pulled up a colored diagram of a human brain with a few taps at the keypad. Ororo scooted past Scott to stand in the tight space between Erik and Charles.

“Note these even, orange lines,” the Professor said, tracing a few of the straight, parallel stripes with his finger. “See how they are stacked together in a specific pattern? Now look here at these green lines.”

He traced one of the few craggy lines that shot through the orange stripes seemingly at random. Ororo nodded.

“Very pretty,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But what do they mean?”

“No living organism can have thought patterns this ordered and precise,” Erik spoke up with a gesture to the orange section of the diagram. “What we’re seeing here is more like a computer program than the workings of a human brain.”

“Precisely,” Xavier agreed. “This pattern was designed to inhibit Kurt’s control over his own mind by forcibly suppressing certain memories, then overwriting them with a simulated personality. In other words, Kurt’s mind has been infected with the mental equivalent of a computer virus—Belasco—the purpose of which is to re-write Kurt’s personality according to its specifications.”

“And the green lines?” Scott prompted.

“Those are Kurt’s thought patterns,” Xavier said. “And as you can see, they’re getting weaker.”

Ororo glared at the overwhelmingly orange diagram, her jaw clenching in frustration and a deep fear she refused to show. “So,” she said, “what can we do to help Kurt?”

“Despite the damage the Belasco ‘program,’ as it were, has done, Kurt’s own memories should still be there,” the Professor assured her. “It’s just a question of retrieving them.”

“You mean like the way you can retrieve files from a computer’s hard drive after they’ve been deleted?” Scott asked, his brow furrowed over his glasses as he struggled to wrap his brain around what the Professor was saying.

Xavier considered. “Essentially…yes,” he nodded. “If we’re ever to have a hope of reconstructing Kurt’s mind, we’re going to have to isolate the invading ‘Belasco Virus’ and cage it off until we can find a way to safely destroy it without harming Kurt.”

“And how do we do that?” Ororo inquired.

“Well,” the Professor said, “to extend the computer metaphor, first we’re going to have to ‘defragment’ his mind.”

Ororo looked confused. Xavier chewed his cheek for a moment, searching for a clearer explanation.

“Instinctually, Kurt’s brain ‘knows’ how it is supposed to be configured,” he said. “Unfortunately, it’s not simply a matter of repairing the damage. If it were, I could probably do it from here.” He shook his head with a tired sigh. “No, he’ll have to rediscover the configuration on his own. But he’ll need our guidance and support if it’s to work.

“Right now, he’s scattered: a fragmented psyche lost to chaos and uncertainty—what he calls the ‘midden mire.’ In order to regain his control, he’s going to have to uncover and re-integrate his forcibly repressed memories into his consciousness. Until he has recovered his complete personality, Belasco will always have the upper hand.

“Jean has already helped him a great deal, even if she was unaware of it, but she has only started him in the right direction. What he needs now is careful guidance from a person he trusts implicitly.”

Xavier turned slightly in his chair, looking up at Ororo with intense eyes. “And I believe that person is you.”

*******

Azazel smiled from his perch on the tree branch, his golden eyes fixed to the small monitor which was strapped to his wrist like a watch. The transmitter he had implanted beneath the weather witch’s skin was working perfectly, allowing him to see everything she saw as though through her own eyes, and what he was seeing showed him that Xavier was on the right track. He and the Munroe woman were both wearing ridiculous-looking silver helmets, preparing to set up a link to Kurt’s mind through the marvelous computer they called Cerebro. Azazel’s smile stretched into a grin. His plan was working itself out exactly to his satisfaction.

The demon stood up carefully and extended his tail behind him, stretching out the kinks. His son’s mind was well in hand. Now, it was time to see to his body. Casting one last glance around the grounds to be sure he was alone, Azazel teleported from the old oak with a BAMF of sulfurous smoke. The alarmed flutter of a songbird’s wings was the only evidence of his departure.

*******

…Monster…
…Demon…


Blank nothingness surrounded and clung to him like a plastic bag coated in glue. Here and there, ghostly swirls of freezing mist curled and floated; colorless flecks within an all-encompassing cloud. He followed them with his eyes, fascinated by the shifting patterns of their whirling dance.

…Abomination…

All too soon, the delicate wisps faded away and a turquoise rain began falling up from the clouds below him. The color was alarming after the blankness. Kurt sighed, leaning back against his narrow cage and stretching a hand through the bars, catching a crystalline droplet in his colorless palm and letting it weave and roll through his fingers of its own accord. The blue spread up his arm, deepening in color until it was almost black, then faded away into smoke.

…Schreckgespenst…
…Ungeheuer…
…Alpdrücken…


It would be so easy to just give into those painful taunts and let the clawing hands take him. It almost be a relief to allow those harsh, mocking voices to sway him as they had so many times before, to let himself fade once again into the cold, aching obscurity of his own subconscious…

…Kurt…

What was that?

…Kurt?…

A new voice was rising above the howling din deadening his ears, cutting through the caustic noise to slip straight into his heart.

…Kurt? Where are you?…

This voice was low and soft, deep, yet completely feminine. He pressed against the bars of his cage, straining to see through the searing blankness that enshrouded him.

There! The dancing mists were coalescing into a human form, a form of sparkling light magnificent to behold. He held his breath, awed by the vision as it continued to solidify, turning from light to shadow to living flesh and blood right before his eyes.

Once she had taken form, the woman looked around herself, taking stock of her surroundings. Her crystal blue eyes fell on him almost immediately, and a warm smile graced her deceptively delicate mocha features.

“O—Ororo?”

The name was like a burst of sunlight in his heart, bringing with it a myriad of images and emotions, a wild torrent of memory too strong for the narrow cage to hold. The bars burst open and Kurt stepped through, his golden eyes wide as he drank in her presence. He reached out a tentative hand to touch her cheek, but pulled back with a jolt before making contact.

“You can’t be here,” he whispered, dreading that his words were true. “This must be a dream, or a trick of some kind…”

Ororo shook her head, a lock of snow-white hair falling over her shoulder. “No trick, my friend,” she assured him, stepping forward to take his hand in hers. “I am as real as you are. I’ve come to help you.”

Kurt stared at their linked hands, secretly admiring the contrast of chocolate against indigo as he had countless times before…a lifetime ago. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

“Help me how?” he asked.

“I am to be your guide—to help you help yourself.”

Kurt furrowed his brow. “You never used to be so cryptic,” he said with the smallest of smiles. “Why don’t you just say what you mean?”

Ororo cocked a wry brow at him, but didn’t respond. “Break yourself out of this place,” was all she said, “and you’ll begin to understand. Then we can talk as plainly as you wish.”

“But I can’t—“ Kurt started to protest.

“Then get me out of here,” Ororo suggested. “Take me to the place you remember best. The place where you feel safest.”

Kurt opened his mouth, but his excuse died in his throat as Ororo stepped closer to him, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I trust you,” she told him, her voice solemn and sincere. “Do you trust me?”

Kurt blinked his golden eyes, then straightened. “Implicitly, meine Dame,” he said with a courtly bow, sweeping the hazy ground with a playful flourish. Then he sobered, his expression darkening.

“You do realize the danger, don’t you,” he said. “The midden mire is not to be traversed lightly. One strong gust, and we could both lose our minds.”

Ororo looked affronted. “What kind of a guide would I be if I allowed something like that to happen,” she said. “I told you that I’m here to help, but if you want that help you’re going to have to be prepared to take some things on faith.”

A broad smile spread slowly across Kurt’s face, brightening his eyes with humor and affection.

“Faith I can do, Liebchen,” he said. “Take my hand. We’ll be out of here before you can say klitzekleine Kinder können keinen Kirschkern knacken!”

Ororo blinked. “What?”

Kurt chuckled, secretly adoring the befuddled look on her face. “Just a tongue twister, meine Liebe. You can say Peter Piper, if you prefer. Either way, we’re still busting out of here. Let’s go!”

*******

The journey through the midden mire was even more difficult than Kurt had anticipated. Ororo’s hand was like a leaden weight, dragging him ever downwards, but he never once considered letting her go. Horrible, ghostly voices screeched past him, laughing in mocking derision, screaming in abject terror, taunting and pulling and scratching, shunting him from here to there as they tore at his soul with words. Still, he held on, kicking his way ever upwards as he swam against the rushing current of loathing and hate.

There was a light up ahead—dim and hazy, but warm and real. Kurt swam for it with all his might, stretching out a hand to sweep aside the roiling fog.

To his surprise, his hand rammed into something solid. He winced in pain, stopping their progress and turning to Ororo, who floated like an angel in the nothingness beside him.

“I can’t get us through,” he told her apologetically. “There’s some kind of barrier in the way.”

Ororo frowned at him in disapproval, causing his heart to sink. “What is a barrier to a teleporter?” she asked. “I thought nothing could hold you if you did not want to be held.”

“A teleporter?” Kurt repeated quietly, narrowing his eyes as he struggled to remember. “Yes… I think I was a teleporter once. But I haven’t been able to teleport for centuries…”

Ororo’s frown melted and her eyes softened. “Kurt,” she said, “can you remember the first time you teleported? Not the first time your power manifested, but the first time you teleported on purpose, just for the fun of it?”

Kurt ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I—I don’t know…”

Ororo clutched his hand tighter. “Please, Kurt, try? It’s the only way you can get us out of here.”

“But the voices,” Kurt said, suddenly looking very small: a child with wide, frightened eyes. “If they find out I can teleport, they’ll think I’m a demon for sure. They’ll try to kill me!”

Ororo made to move closer, then stopped short, staring around herself with wide, amazed eyes. The nothingness had faded away. Now, Kurt was standing just inside a sawdust-covered circus ring, a small, skinny, fourteen-year-old boy staring up at the trapeze platform high, high above. He was wearing a tight costume she had never seen before, sparkly blue with golden wings sewn across the chest. As Ororo watched, the bleacher seats filled with ghostly faces and a bright spotlight flashed on, causing all eyes to turn to Kurt. It was all very disconcerting, and for a moment Ororo wasn’t sure how to react. Then, she felt the Professor’s nudging at the back of her mind. Suddenly, she knew what she needed to say.

She bent down beside the frightened boy, leaning in until her lips almost brushed his pointed ear. “They won’t fear you,” she whispered, “if they think it’s all part of the show.”

Kurt turned his head to face her, a familiar confidence spreading over his impossibly young features as he took her hand firmly in his and gave it a brief squeeze.

“And now,” came an announcer’s voice, echoing over the heads of the spectral crowd, “the Szardos Bavarian Circus is proud to present—in his first solo performance—the Amazing Blue Lightening!”

Kurt grimaced slightly in embarrassment, but the excitement and anticipation of performing did not fade from his golden eyes. “Kind of a hokey stage name, nein?” he chuckled in his young voice. “I changed it to Nightcrawler after we joined the Munich Circus.” He looked up at her, nervous, but ready as the band sounded his cue. “Hang on, now,” he said with a rather shaky laugh. “I’ve never teleported up with another person before.”

And suddenly, Ororo realized: this seemingly inexplicable scene was the memory she’d asked for. This performance was the first time Kurt had used his powers for his own enjoyment, without fear.

The young Kurt led her out into the spotlight and bowed to the cheering crowd. When he turned back to her, however, she found herself looking into the familiar, handsome features of the adult Kurt she had known for so long. Without a word, he pulled her into a tight embrace, twining his tail securely around her waist. Then, with an upwards glance and a quick, whispered prayer, he activated his power.

BAMF!


Next Time: Ororo continues to help piece Kurt back together as the full story behind his current condition is finally revealed. Stay tuned! :D

:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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