#interfecit

Society, as we all know, is extremely judgmental.  If people knew some of the things she’s done, whether Kate herself was in control or not, they would judge her as evil.  She’d be a murderer in their eyes.  They wouldn’t take the time to understand 1.) the nature of her mutation and 2.) the other personalities in her head and how that dynamic works.  Even if the personalities were a topic for discussion it would be dismissed either as a bad excuse, a lie, or... she’d be labelled insane.  At that point, even the situation that brought the death or ‘murder’ about wouldn’t matter.  She could have just been defending herself... but society would just call ‘bullshit’.  

On top of that, she’s a mutant.  And most humans in the X-Men universe despise mutants because they fear them.  Kate’s powers are dangerous.  She can’t control anyone with her mind or fold metal in half like paper with the snap of her fingers... but she has a far more aggressive nature than most others do and with her inability to fully control Animal or Monster... she can go from harmless to lethal in less than a second flat.  

          “I (did) tell you, death has a BRIGHT side.”

       Such innocent creatures never sought anything but refuge, and instead they suffer the cruelty of men. Men who name beasts were too blind to see which is beast and which is beauty. Grimm bowed down to his knee and offered the raw meat to the youth, with its teeth sharply bared and hunger prominent, but they knew no better. They were born to feed on blood and nothing else, they were a creature of their own; just as any wolf or bat.

As the child ran, he saw another pass by. Someone Grimm was waiting for- not because it was his time, no, not yet would Helsing feel the cold steel, but more out of curiosity. Out of all the ruthlessness death possessed, fate was not something he could control and it was at her command that he answered. It was fate’s webs that told him which was to die, and at times... she wove him nothing. Finally, footsteps approached from behind the hunter, watching the young boy run off with the meat.

           ❝    The great Van Helsing, I am delighted to see that the stories are not greater than the true man, though I doubt I am first to pay you such compliment. Oh how I have admired your work since moving from my home. Your bravery is unparalleled, with almost no equal... almost. I am overjoyed to meet someone who has faced the sort of monsters that I have, seen the evils I have. Though in our world, who hasn’t borne witness to true darkness?   ❞  

not one of hers,  no, undrowned yet water-heavy, pulled from river’s edge. not hers, but even in death so lovely, all sharp planes, soft skin, lashes water-logged, skin all dewed with water. (what killed you, then, poor love? what man , what creature found you here? did you deserve it?) soft fingers smooth sodden hair from forehead, humming starts so easily, lulling-soft, no thought to start nor will to, yet music from her throat rose nonetheless, soft as mist. a hum that turned to soft singing in scant moments. 

          (she does not hear approach of someone else until it is too late)

had she screamed, found will to run, done anything but SING, he might think her innocent, but in the eyes that see her in the night she spies some knowledge, something siren-song can’t hide from. eyes turn back to stranger there upon the ground, no quick-movement to hide webbed fingers from living stranger’s sight. 

She’d heard the sound of his boots against the floor and his hand on the knob.  She didn’t expect him to walk in.  But he did.  She was only half dressed, her shirt in her hands.  Her black hair was draped over the tops of her shoulders, but her back was completely bared to him, revealing the long, jagged scar running diagonally down her back from shoulder to hip.  Kate didn’t turn to look at him.  Instead, she waited for him to turn away from her