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2 mos ago
Current i'm gonna puke
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5 mos ago
SHE HAS RISEN, BABY GIRL!!!!!!!
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4 yrs ago
Aaaaaand it’s back. It was gone for a while, but it’s back and it feels awful. *Singsong Voice* ♫ I have self-destructive tendencies ♫
4 yrs ago
New Hyperfixation Unlocked: Seeds the Musical
4 yrs ago
Current Mood: Penelope Scott
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Fae Mintfree


Location: Compartment 15
Skills:



Fae's eyes flitted about as a voice filled the compartment, one she didn't recognize. As it spoke, a grin slowly spread across her face. She twisted her head around, looking down to Chiara and Beatrice. "Looks like the good guys won. Always have, always will," she asserted, confident in her statement. She herself visibly relaxed, her battle-ready stance altering to a more leisurely one. She was about to sit back down, when a familiar face appeared in the compartment door's window, causing her to straighten back up, eyes wide. It was Penny Haywood. She gulped, her hands instinctively reaching down to her leather jacket, straightening it out to seem more presentable. It was then, when her hand made contact with some slimy substance on her coat, that she remembered the rat guts that had sprayed all over them. There was momentary panic as she turned around, bringing the neck of her shirt up to her face, wiping the grime away with such dedication that she didn't even stop to get mad when Paige asked Barnaby to move the block instead of her, even though she was clearly stronger.

By the time she managed to get her face relatively clean (it wasn't perfect, as there were still some streaks of blood here and there) the cinderblock had been moved, and she looked up to see the compartment door sliding open. When the blonde head of Penny popped in, all the bullish confidence she usually held drained out of her, leaving her instead with a wide, dorky grin of pure giddiness. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back, out of the way of her face. She stepped to the side, allowing room for Penny to hug the kids. When the blonde began her show of gratitude to the girls, Fae's eyes lit up with excitement. She was the last of the three girls, and while, if given the chance, she may have gotten a little upset at Elizabeth's flirting, Penny leaned in with a kiss that extinguished any chance of that happening. When Penny pulled away, a red splotch in the shape of lips lingered there, reminiscent of lipstick, only instead made of the rat blood she'd picked up from the other two. Fae didn't much care about the mark, instead practically glowing at what just happened.

"Oh, really, it was our pleasure, Penny. She's a good kid. They both are," she replied, her cheeks painted a light pink to compliment the kiss mark of blood. When Fae saw Madalyne in the doorway of the compartment, her smile widened. She glanced over at Penny, waiting until her attention was elsewhere, before subtly gesturing to her, silently mouthing to Maddie, 'I just got a kiss from Penny Haywood,' too excited to make a 'get a room' joke as her fellow beater hugged Paige.


Waverley Watts - Feedback


Location: Mutant Underground HQ - Outside Jack and Casper's Room -> Feedback and Sunshine's Room -> Training Room
Skills:



Waverley's eyebrows furrowed as the group began down the hallway, leaving her question, which had been somewhat rhetorical in the first place, unanswered. She didn't need an answer, though, not really. As she stared down at the dead vermin before her, she knew what she'd heard, that it was sent by Max. And she knew what it meant: it meant war. Then another question came to mind: how had they known it was from Max? When she raised her head to ask the question, they were out of sight, leaving her alone in the hallway. Her gaze fell back down to the rat for a moment, then gave it a swift kick towards the wall, before continuing in the opposite direction of where the others were headed, towards her and Sunshine's room.

She didn't spend long in there. It took less than a minute for her to gather her rebar and backpack, and then she was out the door. Her frown from the mention of Max was gone, likely in large part due to her assault on his 'gift'. It returned, however, when she got to the top of the stairs, and Veil's words reached her ears. Her eyebrows popped up, an equal mix of worry and irritation written across her face.

"He did what? What does that mean?" Waverley asked, her voice shaking ever so slightly. It was difficult to tell if the shaking was an indication of anger or distress, but both seemed equally likely. At first, as she began to march down the stairs, she was directing herself towards Veil. But as she got nearer to the bottom, she caught sight of Sunshine, tears pouring out of her eyes. The worry on her face over took the irritation. Sunshine was emotional, yes, but that emotion tended to come out in the form of rage rather than tears. Waverley shifted her heels, changing direction to head towards Sunshine. Her pace slowed, however, as she passed Sapphire. Her eyes were puffy, like she'd been crying too. When Waverley looked a little closer, she came to the realization that she had, but her tears weren't falling; they were frozen in place, stuck to her pale skin. Frost clung to her eyelashes. She looked like she'd just come in from spending a night out in the snow. Waverley contemplated reaching out to comfort the woman, but ultimately decided against it. Sapphire and she didn't have a bad relationship, but it was far from a friendship. It was professional. Comforting your friend and roommate was one thing, but comforting an employer-figure? Waverley wasn't sure she had that kind of social prowess. So instead, she gave Sapphire an apologetic nod, before continuing towards Sunshine.

The girl was already in the arms of James, with Spark Plug lingering close in an attempt to comfort her as well. Waverley put a distance of a meter and a half or so between herself and Sunshine, not wanting to crowd the girl. She wasn't sure what was wrong, but too much attention can sometimes be worse than none at all. So, instead of joining in in hugging her, she wordlessly unzipped her backpack, pulling out a box of Cheez-Its. Waverley had had the box since joining the Underground, so, needless to say, they were stale, but with something as processed as Cheez-Its, it's hard to tell. She held the box out to Sunshine, hoping the offer might help the constantly hungry girl eat her feelings away.




Location: Room 8
Skills: N/A

Cal gave a slow, thoughtful nod at the talkative girl's Vinnie's input. She was probably right. They likely would have had to sign some sort of form, a realization that, while not disproving her theory entirely, put in a few extra complications. As people introduced themselves, she stared at them, trying to analyze whether or not they'd be the type to sign up for a memory-removing reality show.

Cal wasn't sure why, but she felt like she herself would. Vinnie seemed like an obvious yes. She seemed more excited at the prospect of being on television than put out by it. Sophia was more difficult. Cal couldn't tell whether or not she'd willingly relinquish her memories, but, being a redhead, she'd probably be prime reality TV material. Zarina didn't even look old enough to sign for herself, so that was a strike against the theory. Tessa, while pretty, was pretty in an unconventional way, or, as reality shows might put it, an unmarketable way, so strike two. Kyle, though, seemed like a hit: seemingly extroverted, and attractive, the only two things that mattered to producers. That brought her to the man she'd been ogling earlier, and her shoulders dropped in disappointment. There was no way that Paranoia Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive would sign away his life for a little screen time. Even as he spoke, his words were quick and few. When he was done, Cal raised her eyebrows, waiting for a moment for him to continue, only to realize that he wasn't going to. Cal paused, before she began to put her hands together in a slow clap.

"Blimey, brilliant speech, mate. Your use of the English language is truly somethin' to behold. You don't know how much of a relief it is to know we've got a poet in our midst," she said with a smirk, her words dripping with sarcasm. Her slow clapping came to an end when a few of the others began to discuss the objects they found in their rooms. "Just Vincent here," she said, pulling out her empty pill bottle and putting it on the table. She then got a look of remembrance, and began reaching for her other pocket, where the vial sat, saying, "Oh, and this weird little-" before stopping as she heard the sound of a door opening. She looked over, expecting to see another person come in and fill their extra seat. Her eyes went wide as she saw the woman with strange emerald liquid dripping out of her mouth and eyes.

"MOTHERFUCKING CUNTBUCKET, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK IS WRONG WITH HER FUCKING FACE?!" Cal yelled, leaping up, pushing back her chair to the point of it falling down behind her. She watched with horror as the youngest among them stood from her seat and approached the now fallen woman. "Wait, kid, Zarina, stay away from her! She's leakin' green for fuck's sake!" As Zarina approached the woman, Cal followed, though she stopped a solid five or so meters away from the body. She watched with worry and confusion, unsure of what the girl was doing as she grabbed onto the woman's jaw and began to pull. "What are you-" she began, lips curled down in disgust. Then there were snapping and squishing sounds, and the woman's detached jaw sat in Zarina's hands. Cal let out an audible gag, and she could feel the little she'd just eaten rush up her throat. She put her fist up against her lips. It took all her willpower to keep herself from puking, but she managed. Once the disgust had dimmed to a subtle queasy feeling, she looked back up at Zarina, specifically avoiding the body part in her hands. "Jesus fuck, her jaws off!" She seemed to be more focused on that little detail than Zarina's discovery that the woman was a robot.


Iris Rivers


Location: Stark Tower - The Roof
Skills: Pyrokinesis



Iris watched with annoyance as her destruction of a Surfer was quickly undone by the apparition of a few more, bringing the total up to six. Her thin lips turned into a frown as her forehead wrinkled in frustration. Her expression, still hidden behind a helmet and an unknown force keeping her invisible, softened as she took notice of those who began to land around her, her frown slowly shifting into a grin. It would appear the tables had turned. "That's right! You're not the only one who can multiply, you useless hunk of magic space metal!" she called out, though the taunt was perhaps ill-timed, as just when she had finished, the force field that had been protecting the team dropped. Iris raised her arms in front of her face defensively, casting a glance over at Mary as she gave the plan of action. It seemed to her that it leaned more heavily towards the 'action' part than the 'plan' part.

"Good to know that the X-Men contain only the most talented of strategists," Iris said, her smirk audible in her voice, sounding more playful than malicious. But even with Mary's clear instructions, Iris held back from attacking, waiting for something she couldn't quite place. She watched as one lost its board to an unknown force, before revving up to attack the boardless wonder. Before she could (or rather, ask Upsilon politely if he could) the Stark girl launched up from the side of the building. She let off a number of attacks that seemed to launch an adequate amount of damage at what turned out to be the right Surfer, before informing the others to do the same. Iris beamed. She'd always wanted friends who called her 'babes,' but she'd always assumed it was a thing they only did in the United Kingdom.

"You got it babes!" she replied, jutting an invisible thumbs up into the air, before looking to the fallen Surfer. Upsilon was already creeping towards him, his horrific face opening up to reveal blue flames. "You heard the lady, Upsilon." With that, Upsilon nodded, lifting up his arms. Another torrent of flame spewed from his hand, launching out towards the Surfer. Unfortunately, it missed, quickly fading. The same happened with the second arm, the flames disappearing without doing any damage. An awkward frown was painted on Iris' lips. "Uh, Upsilon, now's not the time for warning shots!" she called out, in response to which the hallucination glared back at her with as much annoyance as it could show on its featureless face.


Fae Mintfree


Location: Compartment 15
Skills:



Fae's lips curled down into a frown as Elizabeth shook her head. Fae was about to protest. She wasn't sure what exactly she was going to say, but she just knew that she didn't want to stay where she was, even if Elizabeth's worries were valid. There was an energy pumping through her body, a tension her insides were pulled into. She wanted, almost needed, to punch something, preferably a Death Eater. Being forced to stay locked up in the compartment was torture. She felt like a water balloon being filled up to full, or a dead rat who'd just been hit with the Growing Charm; she felt ready to pop. Luckily, Beatrice's words managed to distract her from doing so.

"Er...uh..." Fae stammered out as the young Haywood girl questioned her profanity. It was suffice to say that brutish girl didn't have a filter, especially when it came to her language. She'd learned to curse from her pops at around age four, and had only been introduced to the concept of censoring when she came to Hogwarts. Clearly, even after all her years there, she still hadn't gotten used to it. Luckily, Elizabeth jumped in, her sharp wit stringing together a reasonable lie. Fae quickly nodded in agreement, proceeding to build upon Elizabeth's deception. "Yeah, it's, like, Welsh slang for scaredy cat," she said, shooting Elizabeth a look of both gratitude and praise. When Chiara's soft voice rang out, her adrenaline began to drain from her bones, her shoulders dropping, a look of compassion taking over her face. The urge to attack softened into an urge to protect, and she nodded.

"Of course, dwt. Of course," she replied, her normally powerful voice softening in attempt to meet the softness of Chiara's own. She then turned her face back to the door, keeping in place ready to flick her cards at anything that might come through the entrance.


Waverley Watts - Feedback


Location: Mutant Underground HQ - Outside Jack and Casper's Room
Skills:



When James revealed that the dead rat Waverley held in her hand was not, in fact, Fred, Waverley's face pulled into a disgusted grimace, as though it was less gross when she had thought it was Fred. And in a strange, nearly explainable way, it was. Sunshine's consistent anthropomorphism of the carcass had seemed to rub off on Waverley, leaving her with slightly less aversion to Fred than she might feel for the average dead rat. But this vile creature in her hands was not Fred, and upon learning that fact, she released her tentative grip on the thing's tale, letting it fall to the ground, before lightly kicking it away from herself with her foot. Wiping her hand off on her jacket, she looked back to James as his sentence, which didn't make much sense to start with, devolved into a jumble of random words that made Waverley wonder if he was having a stroke.

"Chocolate cake? Warehouse fire? What are you-" she began, before she heard Cayden's voice. She turned her head to look at him, a confused expression still decorating her face from James' words for a few moments, before a small smile took over. "Yeah, she said to be prepared for a fight and possible evacuation, right? I was just on my way to grab my rebar." As if reminded by her own words, Waverley turned on her heel and began further down the hall. But as she passed by Casper, something he said stood out to her, causing her to turn around, smile gone from her face.

"Max? What about Max?" she asked, her voice tense, containing a cold edge unusual for the normally warm, soft teen. It was an edge that came out whenever the topic of Maximillian Gray came up, which was understandable, considering their past. Her mind quickly began to pick up the bits and pieces of the rest of Casper's statement she'd subconsciously heard, placing them into a cohesive narrative in her mind. She looked from Casper to James, eyebrows furrowed. Did he send the rat? Is he sending death threats to us now?"




Location: Room 8
Skills: N/A

The hour passed by slowly and mind-numbing for Cal. After finding the vial of liquid, she slid it into her pocket, and proceeded to explore the rest of the room. She didn't find much of note. There was a dresser stocked full of scrub-like clothing much like the set she was wearing. With the general bedroom-feel that the room gave, Cal had assumed the door lead to some kind of closet or bathroom rather than an actual exit, and when she investigated, she was proven right. She looked stared into the mirror, seeing her reflection for the first time, she visibly cringed. She didn't look like the professional woman she'd imagined when she realized she was a pharmacist. As she explored her skin, poking about at her face as she stared into the reflective surface, she took note of the holes where it seemed that piercings were meant to be wedged into. Was she a pharmacist? Because she didn't look like one. She quickly shook away that thought. There's no required 'look' to be a pharmacist. She was just being paranoid. She distracted herself by continuing her search. She opened the medicine cabinet, and she didn't quite understand the disappointed sag they dropped into when she saw that it was empty. She didn't linger on it, assuming that was a natural feeling to feel when you open something and nothing's inside.

Her search lasted all of fifteen minutes. Afterwards, as any normal person would do, she had a small freak out, though it wasn't as intense as most people's freak outs would have been. It was forced. A formality, really; she somehow knew that if she didn't push herself to panic and try to get out, she'd feel guilty and pathetic, like a chicken sleeping all the way to the slaughterhouse. So she did. She raised her voice at the walls (to call it yelling would be too generous), and at one point lightly threw her pill bottle at one, before picking it up and instinctively apologizing. That all took two minutes and nine seconds. For the remaining...42 minutes and 51 seconds, Cal laid in her bed, swinging around a tampon by the string out of boredom. She'd allow her mind to wander, waiting for thoughts to surface. Once they did, she'd try to grab onto them, to try to follow them to some sort of palpable root, only for them to scamper off like scared mice, leaving her mind empty once again, waiting for more thoughts to surface. It was a cycle that went on for what felt like forever as she stared at the ceiling, twirling her tampon. But eventually, the process was interrupted by a smooth sliding noise.

Cal's body tensed up, eyebrows furrowing. She looked over to one of the walls, seeing one of the walls had opened up, revealing a new door. She sat up, and as she did, a voice sounded, coming from an unknown source. She looked around for something to signify where the voice came from, but she found nothing. Cautiously, she stood up, grabbing onto her pill bottle and sliding it into her empty pocket. She slowly walked towards the door, fingers still touching the bottle, until she got to it. She lightly stroked the bottle in her pocket, hesitating as she stared at the door. There was a moment of silence.

"To unpathed waters, undreamed shores, eh mate?" she mumbled, before creaking open the door. It lead to some sort of hallway, where it appeared a number of people had began to exit in similar clothing to her own. Her she first caught sight of a dorky-looking girl, eyes puffy and red. Cal looked her up and down, staring at her just a second or two longer than would be normal before catching herself. 'Huh, would ya look at that. I'm a lesbian,' she thought, before her eyes moved on, shifting over to a well-built man with a militaristic disposition. She raised her eye brows, drinking in his form as well. 'Okay, so not a lesbian, my mistake. Bi? Oh, lovely, twice the fun.' Before Cal could perv on any more of her fellow amnesiacs, though, a number of them began moving down the hallway, and Cal followed behind.

Once in the cafeteria, she watched as the first couple of residents toyed with the strange screen, using it to get their desired food. When the audibly French man walked away from the machine with an array of breakfast foods, Cal's hand moved to her stomach, the sight of food causing it to growl in a hunger she hadn't realized she'd been feeling. Not having the patients to go figure out the touch screen machine, Cal took a seat next to the French man, Gordan. Just as the dorky girl - Vinnie, she introduced herself as - apologized for taking one of Gordan's many treats without permission, Cal grabbed a beignet, shoving it into her mouth without permission. She wasn't exactly the picture of tidiness, with white powdered sugar coating her lips, some smudging across her chin. As Vinnie questioned where they were, her voice suggesting she hailed from somewhere in America or Canada, though it was hard to tell which, Cal shook her head.

"Naw mate, I don't think it's anything like that," she began, mouth still half full of food. She swallowed it, her eyes flicking up to Vinnie. "See, I wasn't sure until I saw everybody comin' out their rooms, but I think we're on a reality show. Like Big Brother. My bet's that some big television network found out how to take people's memories, right? And so they got a bunch of people, us, wiped our brains, and shoved us is in here," she said, spinning the insane theory with the unearned confidence of a frat boy with a not-fully-developed brain. She took another bite of her pastry, this time in a slightly less animalistic manner, before adding in. "Cal, by the way."






Iris Rivers


Location: Flying Outside Stark Tower -> the Roof
Skills: Pyrokinesis



As Iris and Neil were enveloped by a bright, nigh divine light, Iris' face contorted, scrunching up, her nose wrinkling and her eyes squeezing shut. One could only guess what the source of the light could've been, but it wasn't exactly an enigma, with their light-manipulating teammate flying near, engaging the Silver Surfer. Iris peeled her eyes back open as she tried to figure out what the use of such a move could be, when her eyes caught glance of the shimmering surrounding her and Neil. Her blonde brows furrowed together in a quiet question at the sight; it looked kind of like what she imagined the inside of a bubble might look like. She didn't allow herself to ponder the strange trick of the light, however, instead readying herself to begin flying back upwards to the roof. Before she could, Neil spoke.

"Brace myself? For wh-" she started to ask, but before she could, she felt a strange force, far different from her suit's thrusters, launch her body into the air. Her eyes were wide as the two speedily flew up to the roof. Her landing was just as graceless as the flight itself, her body tumbling onto the roof, rolling for a few feet. As she got back to her feet, she saw a six forms on the roof, excluding Neil: three Surfers, the Fantastic guy and Invisible lady she'd met earlier, and Upsilon, standing eerily calm next to the fight going on beside him. Neil was gone. She couldn't make out where he was, though she heard him yell out for the elastic man fighting the three metal malefactors. She wasn't sure what Neil's plan was, but she knew anything she could do to help the two superheroes in their fight against the Surfers was something worth doing. Noticing that the titanium trio hadn't yet noticed her, she looked to Upsilon and lowered her voice.

"If you love any scrap of this world, Upsilon: light those motherfuckers up," she quietly hissed. Somewhat surprisingly to Iris, she didn't need to ask twice. She watched the demonic form raise a hand towards one of the Surfers, and she felt her fingers twitch as the familiar feeling of burning in her veins began to surface, signalling use of her power. She watched as the Surfer Upsilon aimed his hand at was engulfed in a ball of bright blue flame. When the flame dissipated, the Surfer was gone, leaving two remaining. Iris' lips curled upward into a smile, pumping her fist in celebration.
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