xxxxxP E T R A x M A X I M O F F x • x h e x x // x b22222 x •Or so she thought. After seven pages, her phone buzzed.
From: Tobias
There's a drunk Scot in an elevator. Maybe you were too hard on him? He just wanted you safe.
...
Just a thought.
There's a drunk Scot in an elevator. Maybe you were too hard on him? He just wanted you safe.
...
Just a thought.
Petra exhaled a long breath through her nose, lips pursed. She tried not to shake her head. As there wasn't really anyone around to judge her for physically expressing her frustration, she didn't mind so much that the attempt to suppress herself failed. Ross was a grown man, he could deal with himself. She typed a quick message back, then set her phone to silent and tossed it back on the stand.
To: Tobias
I'm not his chaperone.
I'm not his chaperone.
But she couldn't get the image out of her head. Not for lack of trying, but the book couldn't hold her attention - not even with an explanation of old, fairly obscure chaos magic theory. Eventually she set the book aside with a sigh, pushing herself off the bed. Her tea would probably go cold. She might not finish the book until she was eighty. It hadn't even been three hours, and she was already breaking her vow of not leaving her apartment.
Gods damn Ross.
---
xxxxxR I L E Y x B A R T O N x • x h e x x // x 7a378b x •He awoke proper some time later, staring blankly at the ceiling of the infirmary. The drip had been finished and removed sometime while he was asleep, so he presumed he was free to go. With a groan, he pushed himself upright and looked around. Already some of the students had taken their leave, judging by the relative quiet of the infirmary and the empty, as-yet-unmade beds. Scrubbing a hand over his face, Riley gathered his things from the bedside stand, making sure his watch was tucked carefully away, and left.
His head was heavy. If a concussion was all it took to fix anxiety-induced insomnia, Riley would have run headfirst into a wall years ago.
The elevator doors slid open, and a pair of feet came into view. Riley glanced up, startled, to see Ross sitting in the elevator, his eyes closed.
"Oh boy." Riley hurried forward, bending down by his friend. "As if getting your entire face rearranged wasn't enough, Ross? What the hell?" He slipped an arm under his friend's shoulders, trying to heave Ross's dead weight upright and press the button for Ross's floor at the same time.. "Let's take you back, yeah?"
The elevator doors slid open, far earlier than Riley had expected. Petra stood there, her arms crossed, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else. "Give him here."
"What?"
Instead of repeating herself, she stepped into the elevator with them, pressing the button for Riley's floor, then adding her support to Ross's other side. "He's like this because of me. I'll take care of him. You should go back and rest."
Ross is my friend, Riley wanted to say, but he caught the dangerous glint in her eyes. Trust me, I'd rather be doing anything else right now, it said, and so he backed off. "Alright. Thanks."
They reached his floor, and he tried, as gently as possible, to slip out from under Ross's weight. "Feel better soon."
---
xW Y N N E x W O R T H I N G T O N x • x h e x x // x 6e6e6e x •Wynne couldn't help herself. She'd just popped into her assigned apartment briefly - bare, boring, and a really weird shade of beige - dumped her stuff, and then gone up to the roof. Warren Worthington could make all the threats he wanted, but the world knew she was a mutant, and here no one would try to rein her in like fucking Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.
She pretty much looked like him, though. On the ground - or even the roof - the temperature was mild, but up in the air, doing acrobatics like she'd never tried before, the speed and the wind chill brought a pretty flush to her cheeks. Her braid had pulled loose, and pretty much half her hair was now blowing by her face, but she didn't care. Despite her lack of experience, flying was incredibly freeing, and came to her easily.
After amusing herself by tailing a flock of birds (and scaring the hell out of them), Wynne tried a few midair loops, then turned and dove into a barrel roll, ending it with a headlong spiral down towards the roof of the Academy. Just before she slammed headfirst into the concrete, she pulled up, slowing abruptly, and did a final midair backflip, landing lightly on her bare feet. Blood beaded below her stitches and slid thickly through the feathers, not enough to cause alarm. Still, she shuddered. It felt weird - both the pulled stitches and her wings stretched out.
Movement caught her eye, and she whipped around, her wings folding up behind her on instinct. She hadn't expected anyone else to come up here, which was the main reason she'd let herself loose.
Tobias Lehnsherr. Even when she wasn't looking for him, he turned up anyway. Wynne tugged the rubber band out of her hair, trying to smooth her hair back into something vaguely presentable. Dear Lord, that she might be acting like a wild teenager again, and this time in front of people much more important than a handful of university students. It was embarrassing.
---
xxxxxxxxxJ E N S E N x J O N E S x • x h e x x // x 2b4f81 x •She was proved right when he wobbled and grabbed at her, letting him lean on her shoulder until he found his legs. "Whoa there, tiger. Take it easy."
"Let's get da fuck outta 'ere. I wanna drink 'til I'm pretteh again."
She laughed, despite herself. "You said it. Let's go." She crooked a finger at Gwen, a silent invitation. They weren't the closest, but she'd take whatever drinking buddies came her way.
The stairs weren't a problem for Jensen. She didn't say anything when they rounded the corner and familiar red tresses came into view, only continued supporting Ross up until they stumbled across the bar. In this mood, she wasn't eager to argue with anyone, least of all the one person who'd been kind enough to offer her a listening ear in the usual gang's absence.
She made good work on the bar almost immediately. At her request, the bartender kept the alcohol coming, seeing her through multiple whiskey shots until her vision was pleasantly blurry. Not enough to fuzz her thinking over, but enough that her pain had dulled considerably. She barely even noticed when Ross left, deciding at the last moment to let him leave. He needed the bed rest more than she did, although if he made it back to his apartment in one piece she'd be surprised. Didn't go after him, though, just remained where she was, smiling to herself.
After a little while she realised that Gwen had posed a question. Running back through her memory, she recalled it and finally turned to the other girl. "I dunno, like some giant clusterfuck. You seen the hole in the side of the building?" After downing another shot she sighed, trying to find the words.
"So there's this... gala, right, there's United Nations and bloody Thaddeus Ross, some winged gal joining us from the U.N. Temporarily. Whatever. If she's a spy, she's doing a shit job of it because she just went up on stage and announced it to the entire ballroom that she was joining as a student. Then these goons fuckin' blast a hole into the ballroom. Boom." She pushed air out from pursed lips, raising her hands to mimic an explosion. Probably almost hit Gwen in the face, but who cared. She downed another shot and continued.
"And they have these gas... things. They're grabbing students. Shot a claw right through Wren's chest like Moby Dick." Her voice faltered, grew sombre even through the alcohol. "Couldn't stop them, you know. They were prepared for us. I watched them pull Wren into a waiting helicopter. Then some bastard whacked me in the face - pow - and jabbed me with a needle. Next thing I know, I wake up feeling like shit." She laughed, a wet, choking sound, and rested her forehead on her hand, closing her eyes. "But when don't I feel like shit? I'm used to it. I'm worried about Wren. Pretty, tough, dangerous Wren... at least they can't kill her. Well, they could. But she'll be back. Hasta la vista, baby." She started cackling again, hardly able to control herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was very, very drunk. But it didn't really matter, not just then.