Disclaimer: Plot is mine, characters are Marvel's. No money is being made and no permission was given. *** This is set during World War One in Paris, France. It stars Raven Darkholme and Nathaniel Essex. Sinny is a struggling artist and Mystique is a dancer (sort of like Mata Hari). ++++++++++++++++++++++++ I sat there watching her, totally captivated by her every move. She was beautiful, alluring, sensual. I came here each day just to watch her dance. There was something about her that held me, drew me to her. Maybe it is my artistic mind that is attracted to her. She is so magnificent to draw. I have over 30 sketches and 2 paintings of her in my small apartment. I have never had anyone like her to draw before. She doesn't know what I do, we have never talked but I know I would like to know her. I want to know if the mind is as attractive as the body, I would love to know if she thinks as thoughtfully as she moves. I have so many questions I would like to ask her and so many pictures I would dearly love to draw of her. My Muse. I wonder if one can fall in love without knowing the object of their affections at all. *** I look at him watching my every move. By my count this is his 16th time here. I always wonder what he's thinking. A part of me knows that he does not come here as the others do to watch my body, the leaches, he comes here and studies me so clinically. It is almost as if he sees beyond the sleaziness to something greater. My mind must be affected by all the alcohol and smoke in the room. Nobody ever sees me for what I am, they only see the beauty of the flesh. But with the young man that sits there, it's as if he sees into my soul. My time here is over and I stand down from the stage. I walk to the bar to have a drink, it eases the pain of my situation. A single girl forced to dance for a pretty penny or two. My dreams never spoke of this. But we do not live on dreams, we live on money and this is the only way I know how to make it. "So, what are you doing tonight Raven?" My boss, Victor Creed asks. I quickly down my shot of Vodka. Victor was the one who took me in when I first moved to Paris. He bathed me, fed me, clothed me. It was so wonderful at first, I felt safe with him even if he was a complete stranger. Then he asked me to do things for him in return for the things he had done for me. At first it was simple things, cleaning the floors, washing glasses at the bar. Now I dance for him and occasionally perform sexual favors for his friends. I hate the prostitution part of my job. It is degrading and sometimes the clients can become abusive. I have scars from the first time. It was with Creed and he was an animal who tried to rip me apart. I screamed to a God I had never true believed in and received no reply. From that one night came a life time of hurt. My first child, never to be born. Victor went crazy when he found out that I was pregnant and hit me until . . . well, he made sure that I did not have the child. The doctor I went to see said I could not have any more children. I hate Victor and one day I will leave. "I'm preparing for my next performance, sir." "Change of plan. Your going to do a little job for me. Here's the information. Don't disappoint." He ran a finger up and down my arm. A shiver runs down my spine. I can not stand his touch but I have to or else. "Thank you Victor." "Oh and when you're finished there you can come up to my room." "Angie's night off?" I said sarcastically. He grabbed my arm and held me tightly. "Listen you little whore, you're here to work not judge me. If it wasn't for me you'd still be in the gutter where you truly belong." "Understood." I promised I wouldn't cry but I did. I hate him, I fear him. Oh, I wish he was dead. I ran back to the dressing rooms to hide from the outside world, allowing myself to become something that I am only in dreams, a stronger person. *** I watched the whole scene from the shadows. The woman was clearly afraid of the large man. He seemed to exert some sort of control over her. Part of me wanted to get involved and part of me said to mind my own business. I wish I could help but I do not know how to. He upset her in some way and that hurt me. I shall offer her some help but I doubt that she will take it. But as a good Christian, a gentleman and another human being I feel that it is my duty to help my fellow man, or in this case woman. The man has moved off in the opposite direction of the dancer who's stage name is Mystique. Somehow, it suits her. There is an aura of mystery around the young woman and it is very compelling. She is a wonder. Disclaimer: Plot is mine, characters are Marvel's. No money is being made and no permission was given. This is set during World War One in Paris, France. It stars Raven Darkholme and Nathaniel Essex. Sinny is a struggling artist and Mystique is a dancer (sort of like Mata Hari). ++++++++++++++++++++++++ God, I hate myself. I swear if I have to spend another night like this I shall die. Those men, their hands all over me. I know one day I will scream. But for now, I shall keep quiet. If I ever disobeyed Victor I know I would not survive. The streets are so cold and my body aches all over. He wants me to come to his room tonight. I wish I could run away but I have nowhere to go and whatever money I may have has gone to pay rent and to buy food. Sometimes I wish I had never left my home. But it was just as bad there as it is here. Oh God, help me. *** I know that I really should mind my own business but this woman needs my help. I know deep in my soul that something is wrong. There is something about the way she acts that tells me that she is not happy. When I was a child of ten, my father took me out for my very first fox hunt. I saw the look of desperation on that poor creature as it tried to outrun the blood hounds. Is that what is happening here? Do I see that same look on this woman? I don't know and at the moment I don't care. She's been walking up the deserted street alone. Maybe I should offer her my company. After all what sort of gentleman allows a lady to walk home alone in the dark? I quietly scold myself. What sort of a man would follow a lady in the middle of the night? "Mademoiselle?" I call out to her. She stops and turns cautiously to look at me. "Ya?" The German word for 'yes'. I have never been good a languages. My friend Charles spent months teaching me the basics of French. "Do you speak English?" I say slowly and clearly. I notice a slight smile on her face. "I speak many languages." She raise an eyebrow. I think she is wondering who I am. "I am Nathaniel Essex. I've seen you dance. You're very good." "And I have seen you too, Herr Essex. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be heading back to my home." *** I notice the dumbfounded look on his face as I begin to walk away. At least I know his name now. His voice is so sweet and soothing. I suppose I could have said something more to him but if I am any later I know that Victor will not be happy. I don't know if I could take another beating. Maybe that man could help me, maybe he's the answer. I noticed his face. It looks so innocent, angelic even. I do hope he is my savior because I stop and turn back towards him. "I....," I don't know how to ask for help. The last time I asked for help, I ended up in the worst situation possible. "Would you like a drink? My home is not far from here." "Yes." *** We walked for what seemed like ages until we came to a small building that looked as though it should have been demolished years ago. Inside was slightly better. It was a wonderful mess of sketches and paintings. There were pictures of women, men and children and some of landscapes. On the wall there was a picture of a dancer and it took me a moment to recognize who she was. "I take it you approve." "You're very good. I like the way you use color. Very interesting." He smiled at me. No-one has ever smiled at me that way. It was as though he actually thought I had said something interesting. I don't think anyone values my opinion any more. "Herr Essex.." "Nathaniel." "Nathaniel, I thank you for the drink but it is time I was heading home." "You don't have to go." I look at him, his eyes tell me he knows what goes on in my life. Maybe I just see what I want to see. If Victor found me, I would not live long enough to regret it but I will stay with Nathaniel. It's not as if I have anything worth living for. For tonight at least, I will feel safe. I will find comfort in the knowledge that someone is watching over me. And maybe, just maybe, I shall sleep well. *** She decided to stay in my home for the night. After finishing off a bottle of wine, I let her sleep it off in my room. It's not a large room, just big enough for a bed and some of my paintings. The apartment is not large. It's not a proper home really. The place is actually an abandoned warehouse. There are some other people living here. My friend Charles shares this part of the building with me. We don't really talk to the other people here. Charles came home about two in the morning. He was drunk as usual. I have never seen him come home sober. It must be his work. He's a proof reader at some printing firm and a poet. Usually he comes home with some woman he's picked up at a bar. He has several lovers - Moira, Gabrielle, Lilandra. All of them inspire him. "Good morning, Charles." I say as I look down at him. He's lying on the floor in the same position as he was when he collapsed there last night. "Coffee, tea, another bottle of spirits?" "Oh, it's you. What am I doing down here?" "Recovering from a drunken stupor." I give him a hand getting up from the floor. "You my friend need to learn to drink less." "Nathaniel," he slaps me on the back in a friendly gesture, "you should become a doctor. You have that loving bedside manner." "Hello." I look up and see Raven standing at the door to my room. It took me hours of pleading before she would tell me her name. It's a lovely name too. She tucks a lock of reddish-brown hair behind her ear and pulls the sheet tighter around her body. Charles has that look in his eyes. He turns and looks at me, jabbing my rigs with his elbow. "Nathaniel, you devil. And he complains about me bringing strangers home!" "You're making an idiot of yourself Charles." "And such a beautiful stranger to. Je m'appelle Charles Xavier. Comment tu t'appelle, mademoiselle?" "Ich bin Raven Darkholme." "Multi-lingual too." "Five languages. German which is my native language, French, English, Italian and Spanish." I watch Charles drop to one knee. He loves women who can speak many different languages. Well, there are other types of women he loves but the least said, the better. "Marry me." Raven looks at my friend and then to me. "Raven Darkholme, this is Charles Xavier - poet, womanizer and fairly decent chap when he wants to be. We share this apartment." "Well, not exactly share. Nathaniel takes over and I just come here to sleep." "I am pleased to meet you." "Have we met before, you look familiar?" My eyes travel to the pictures of her in the corner of the room. Charles follows my gaze and suddenly realizes who she is. "Breakfast anyone?" I say. "I must decline. My boss will be wondering what happened to me." She goes back into the room and closes the door. I assume that she is getting dressed to leave. "Well, what happened?" "Charles, don't be so nosy." "I make it my business to involve myself in other people's lives." I turn and sit on the nearest available chair. "She's a dancer and a prostitute." "And you talk about the women I bring home." "Charles! It's not her choice. The man she works for has some sort of hold over her. He seems to abuse her." I watch Charles' face turn white. "Nathaniel, don't get involved. It's none of your business. She'll only end up hurting you." He's right. I know he's right. But I think I am too involved now and I think I love her. She comes out of the bedroom moments later looking more lovely than ever. Her hair is tied back showing her face more clearly. "I'll come and see you dance tonight." I say, my eyes still focused on her face. "I look forward to seeing you." She kisses me on the cheek. "Thank you, Nathaniel, for everything." *** Nathaniel Essex and Raven Darkholme Twisted Image Chapter Three By Rhona "Jupiter 2" Highet Previous Chapters http://www.jupiter2.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/twisted.htm http://www.jupiter2.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/twisted2.htm ------------ Disclaimer Plot is mine, characters are Marvel's. No money is being made and no permission was given. This is set during World War One in Paris, France (and is probably historically inaccurate). It stars Raven Darkholme and Nathaniel Essex. Sinny is a struggling artist and Mystique is a dancer (sort of like Mata Hari). ------------------- I think of Nathaniel as I walk back to my home. He's sweet, kind, gentle. The kind of person you only read about in stories. But my life is not a piece of fiction, there will be no happy ending. This I am certain of. "Y’er late." I feel Creed's breath on my back. His hand grabs my arm as I close the door. It's a tight grip, his nails dig into my skin. "Creed," I scream with pain, "stop it." He lets go and throws me against the wall like a child's rag doll. My head hits off the brick and plaster with an almighty thud. I slump down to the ground but I don't cry. He likes to see me weak, I won't give him the satisfaction. "Where were you?" "Where you sent me." I reply. He buys it. I know he does because if he didn't I wouldn't be alive. "Right. Did you find out anything of use?" "Nothing." "You better clean yourself up." He walks through the door that connects the bar to the house. I pick myself up from the ground, wincing at the shot of pain from my arm. My room isn't far away but it takes a great deal of effort to ascend the stairs. I swear one day I will leave here and never come back. Once inside my room, I find my bottle of gin. It dulls the pain while I change into my day clothes. I notice my case at the bottom of the closet and pull it out. Instinct takes control as I remove some of the clothes from the rail, shoving them into the case. Everything from my chest of drawers is emptied into it too. My passport is the last thing to go in before I close it and place it back into the closest. I look at my reflection in the mirror. It's nothing like the girl in Nathaniel's paintings. She is vibrant, full of life, and beautiful. I don't see any of those things here. All I see is someone who has learned, from bitter experience, how to survive. -------------- "Nathaniel, think about what you are saying." Charles says to me for the hundredth time but I don't listen. I've made up my mind and as crazy as it sounds, I do love Raven. Tonight I will ask her to come with me to America. We can start a new life together in a land of opportunity. "I'm sorry Charles but I’m going ahead with this." "I can't believe you're actually going to run away with a person you hardly know. It's sheer lunacy." "Love does that to people." I stop packing my bag and turn to face him. "Besides, I seem to remember me telling you that it was a bad idea to propose to Moira but you still went ahead with it." "And look what she did to me. She turned me down for another man." He's going to make a point about this. I chose a bad example. "If I had listened to you then I wouldn't have had my heart broken. She'll only end up breaking your heart." "As I recall, old chum, you recovered very quickly from that broken heart when you met Gabrielle." A smile plays across his face. I think I have won the battle but not the war. He's always going to object to this and that is what a good friend should do. He just doesn't want to see me hurt. "You can keep the paintings, Charles. Sell them if you like." I walk to the door but stop before leaving. In a soft voice I say what will probably be my last words to him. "If nothing else, old friend, be happy for me." -------------------------- It’s late and I begin to feel despair as it grows closer to closing time. A young girl's fantasy broken again. I should never have allowed myself to hope. It always ends the same way. A vulgar German general has taken a shine to me. I know my duty and lead him to a more private area. My costume is a wonder. It reveals most of my flesh but leaves enough to make men want to see more. I feel cheap in it even though it's made of fine silks and expensive beading. At the end of the day I am still a whore no matter what I wear. The blue paint that covers my entire body adds a certain mystique to my stage performances. But I am still an object of lust, wanted by men at any price - a piece of meat for those hungry dogs. There's nothing more than that. His hand cups my breast. I try not to flinch. Normally, I would return the gesture but tonight all I can think of is Nathaniel. I feel the other hand stroking my thigh. It takes a great effort to hold down what ever is trying to escape the pit of my stomach. His hand move up my leg to my hip while his lip find their way to the base of my neck. "You're beautiful, Raven." His free hand goes behind my back, undoing the buttons that holds the top of my costume on. I feel more of a whore than ever as his sweaty palm makes it’s way down my back. Instincts take control of me and I begin to pleasure him the way he likes. He's a sick man, like Victor. If I’m lucky, I may escape from him with a bruse or two. Once he has finished with me and half asleep, I begin my real work. He tells me secrets, things that are worth a lot of money to certain people. Men are fools. They think that I will not understand but I am nobody’s fool. The information is enough to buy me my freedom. I look down at the fat German in my bed as I slip my clothes on. If his superiors ever found out what he just told me, he would die at the hands of his own men. He is not even aware of the fatal error he has made. The fool. My case is removed from the wardrobe. I smile to myself as I pocket my passport. Tonight I am going to be free even if it means I die. With this information I will buy my freedom. The British will pay handsomely for this information and I will surly profit. ---------------------------- There's a boat leaving for America tonight. I bought two tickets. They're second class, all I could afford really. Some Egyptian man liked one of my paintings and bought it. Actually, it was one of my least favourite paintings. It was of the four horsemen - a very chilling picture, indeed - but it gave me enough money to get Raven and I out of here. I am outside the bar where she dances. Before I enter, I notice a movement in the shadows. "Raven?" I call out. "Nathaniel." She hurries towards me with what looks like a case. "I didn't think you would come." "I have." She looks at me and around. I suspect that she is trying to leave this place and that man who is her boss. Her arm closes around mine as she pulls me off in the direction she was heading. "Raven, I have bought us tickets for a boat to America." "America?" She sounds completely taken by surprise. I pull the two pieces of paper from my pocket and show her. "The ship sails in a few hours. There's an inn near the port where we can get some rest before we leave." "An excellent idea." She pulls me closer as we head towards the port and our new future together. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get Yahoo! Mail ­ Free email you can access from anywhere! http://mail.yahoo.com/ ___________________________________________________________ T O P I C A The Email You Want. http://www.topica.com/t/16 Newsletters, Tips and Discussions on Your Favorite Topics