Moondaughter's File

I belong to an X-Men RPG group called NES: the Mutant Saga. We joined together shortly after the X-Men movie was released, when we were all members of the official X-men fan club. When the club went defunct, a small group of us started our own private club, to continue our adventures. This is the origin of my character, "Moondaughter" ...

The flashing lights may has well have been nuclear explosions for all that the young woman was aware of them. She was too enthralled by the scene that replayed itself over and over in her mind's eye.

That new player in their RPG, the one everyone disliked but tolerated, grabbing her best friend & pulling her close. The flash of the knife. And then she found herself standing with his arm in her hand-- only it was no longer connected to his body. She had no memory at all of how it got there. What had happened in between? Her horror had been thrown aside when she saw her friend's still form out of the corner of her eye. All that had mattered at that moment was her friend's life, not her own fear, not whatever she had done.

She ran to her friend's side and cradled her in her arms. The girl still lived, but the lifeforce was fading fast. She didn't question how she knew that. She didn't cry or scream. She didn't notice that there was something different about herself, the way she moved, the shape of her very body, its appearance. All there was in her mind was a desperation for her friend to live. And after a moment, her friend stirred. The yound woman didn't have to wipe away the blood to know the wound in her friend's chest was gone. Her friend opened her eyes, looking straight at her.

And screamed.

The young woman stammered in confusion, trying to ask her friend what was wrong, but her friend just kept screaming and scrambled away.

She was so intent on trying to calm the girl that she didn't notice the assailant was up and about until it was too late. The tip of his knife, which he had retrieved from the arm she had discarded, was protuding from her shoulder.

She didn't even blink as she turned, grabbed him, and threw him against the wall. This time he did not rise, his neck at an odd angle with his head.

It took a bit of struggling, but she managed to pull the knife out herself. Everyone else, including her friend, had left. She sagged against the wall, weakly, feeling her wound mend itself in moments. She didn't stir from that spot when the police arrived, didn't struggle when they put the cuffs on her or drag her feet when they took her to the police car. She didn't hear them read her her rights anymore than she had heard the sirens when they first pulled up.

She didn't respond to their questions, didn't crinkle her nose when they put her in a cell that stank to her of the urine, sweat, and blood of countless inmates before her.

She didn't speak to anyone untill she heard a voice in her mind that was not her own.

They had lead the stranger in the wheelchair into her cell, said his name was Charles Xavier, that he was a doctor of some sort, and then left him alone with her. She knew all these things, just as she knew she had killed that boy at the gaming session, been arrested and incarcerated for it. She just didn't care.

**Why don't you care anymore?**

Her eyes flickered, the first sign she showed of having noticed anything since the police had found her.

**Is it because they left you? Your friends?**

She turned to look at him, her curiosity peaked. How was he speaking without moving his lips? They sent a ventriloquist in to talk to her?

"Hh.. Hah.." She licked her lips. How long since she'd last spoken? Last eaten? Hours? Days? He gave her a glass of water, and after a sip she tried again. "How?"

**Am I doing this? Speaking to your mind? Or how do I know what you won't tell anyone?**

The young woman nodded; one answer was as good as another, at this point. She found that suddenly she did care. It was like one door had closed inside her the night of the game, and another had finally just opened.

**Yes, it is just like that. You're starting on a new path, child, and I'm here to help you on that journey, if you're just willing to take that first step through that door.** As if to illustrate the point, he wheeled over to the cell's door and swung it open. She hesitated only a moment before standing up and stepping through. She held the door open for him and followed him as he wheeled down the hall.

He led her to a desk where they gave her her things. They're just letting me go? Who is this guy?

**For your first question, your friends were found and brought in for questioning. Their testimony has seen to it that the charges against you were dropped. As for the second... You'll see soon enough.**

There was no one waiting for her when they left the building; no one she knew, anyway. Xavier introduced her to his driver, a young man named Remy Lebeau. She managed not to jump when the man winked a glowing red eye at her. She smiled nervously, nodding as she murmured a shy hello. Well, he was cute, even if his eyes were unsettling...

Her smile faded. She looked to Xavier, her eyes not holding even a spark of hope, but she had to ask. "My parents? My friends?"

The kind man shook his head sadly. "This happens to many mutants. My school will be your home now... if you are willing." This was the first time he'd actually spoken. His voice was soothing, making the word mutant sound almost pleasant. Now she faced what she had been trying for so long to deny. She was a mutant. She had play-acted at being a werewolf,and it was like a spell that made her wish reality.

For she had wished for this. She had always felt a kinship with wolves, for as long as she could remember. She had hated humanity just as long. So why did she feel like she'd lost something? Why did she mourn her friend as if she had truly died, rather than having been saved by her newly-found abilities?

**You are still human, my dear. You are more than that, to be sure, but do not fret over feeling things that are only natural for a human to feel.**

She nodded and got inside the car. As Lebeau lifted Xavier into the seat beside her, she asked, as an afterthought, and with a bit of trepidation in her voice, "Waitaminute. Did you say school?"

File closed.