Children of the Hidden Moon (IC)

“Yeah, I think that’d be nice,” Gwenneth said, too startled to say anything but her agreement. She turned her head to look at Sebastian, lifting it a bit from atop her knees, and gave him a puzzled and slightly wide-eyed look. Then, she said, “I suppose you left the food up there too.”

Her mind was actually miles away from food, though the memory of the burgers was appetizing; instead, her expression was shaped by a sort of perplexed contemplation. She fingered the scabbing on her arm for a moment, chewing one side of her lip as she tried to evaluate the look she was receiving from Sebastian.

“That’s it?” she asked suddenly, her gaze still fixed on him as her head popped up. “You’re just going to sit there?” She ran a hand through her hair, her brow furrowing. “No shock, no fright, no revulsion? You’re okay that I’m a... that I’m like this?”

A moment later, she realized that she had been holding her breath; she let it out without the faintest idea why she had been doing it. Her side gave a jolt of pain in protest of the movement, and she let her head fall back against the paneling of the elevator car wall. She stared distantly at her reflection in the doors, her thoughts suddenly elsewhere.

“Not that I’m complaining,” she added with a sign, almost as an afterthought. She wasn’t really; it was a relief to finally meet someone else that wasn’t scared shitless of mutants, but in a way it was almost anticlimactic. She still couldn’t believe she had told Sebastian, a nearly complete stranger whom she knew nothing about, of her ability, but it was even harder for her to grasp that he hadn’t flipped out on her. She half expected for him to suddenly jump up and cringe away from her, and the idea was rather disheartening.

Maria jumped back, more than a little surprised by Bug's sudden magic trick. The cockroaches skittering past her caused her to swing her arms for balance as she attempted to avoid crushing on them; not because she cared or anything, she just didn't want to have bug guts on her shoes. She wobbled, and plopped down on her bed, a few strands of hair falling into her eyes.

"Bug!" she shouted, glaring around her for the offending insect... insects. She shot from the bed, kicking her pillow, and stomping around with a fury that burned on her face. She hated being woken up from a good sleep, and especially hated it when the person who had woken her just disappeared! She had some choice words for Bug, just as soon as he reassembled himself. "Bug! Get down here this instant!"

Jeremy

”Jeremy, we need to talk…”
A brow lofted on Jeremy’s face as he approached and heard those words. They brought a mild sense of doom to him, a knotting in the pit of his stomach. This was always how the end started, wasn’t it? It was always those words. Always with the talking. But that only lasted a fraction of a second. It sonly dawned on him that he wasn’t dating Melissa, so there’s no way she could be Dear-John-ing him. He looked confused then, eyeing her curiously… right up until she sort of ran away.

“Melissa?” he called, confused as hell as he watched the woman dart out into traffic. He saw the bus coming, saw how improbable it looked that it would miss her, and his hands balled into fists. Without a thought (cause if he’d thought about it, he might’ve chosen otherwise), he leeched some of the forward momentum off of the bus. He had to be careful; something that large travelling in steady motion could easily cook him from the inside out if he took too much into himself. It was a rather delicate balance, as a matter of fact; he was sure the bus was going to flatten Mel, but his innate sense of self-preservation wouldn’t allow him to just stop the bus cold by force. The sudden influx of friction was most uncomfortable, and he groaned against gritted teeth until he stepped forward and pushed the energy into a mailbox on the curb via a kick. The mailbox, despite being bolted to the concrete, flew off of its base and soared across the four lanes… as though it’d been hit by a bus. The box crashed into the brick of a building on the far side of the street, all but exploding into a burst of letters and small parcels.

Jeremy cursed and hunched over, arms around his stomach as though hugging himself could stop the strange burning in his gut. It wasn’t the worst he’d ever had, but it was nothing to sneeze at, either. He cursed again, looking up in enough time to see Mel duck around a corner across the street. He straightened himself up with a few more curses, and trotted across the street after her. The bus was still stopped, the driver still yelling at Mel’s carelessness, despite the fact that the cop was long gone. Navigating the rest of the traffic was a little easier; the cars had slowed in the midst of the ruckus. Even so, by the time Jeremy reached the alley, Mel was out of sight. He heard her yell for someone to freeze, and he followed her voice deeper down the alleyway. He found her at the strange little doorway in the wall, though he had no idea who or what was inside.

“What the hell, woman?” he asked, pausing to lean against the brick an arm’s length away or so. He was panting slightly, as though just running across the street had winded him. “Who’s in there?”

---

Bastian
He actually chuckled softly at her surprise, waving a hand dismissively when she asked if he didn’t have more f a reaction. He pushed himself to his feet, and moved over to kneel beside her.

“That you’re what? A mutant?” he said, grinning at her, his tone soft. “Some of my best friends happen to be muties. And I happen to think it’s cool as hell that you can heal yourself. If I could do that, I’d have entirely too much fun pissing people off,” he pointed out, a brow lifting in a conspiratorial expression.

“Is it less painful to try to walk, or to be carried?” he asked, sitting back on his haunches. “You can put an arm on my shoulder and I can help you walk, if you’d rather. I know it must be strange to have weird guy carting you around all over the place,” he said, showing his palms and shaking them to emphasize “weird”. “Sorry for snatching you up like that. You just… y’know. Scared me a little.” His grin went lopsided, and he dropped his eyes momentarily. Depending on how Gwen preferred to travel, he’d either help her to her feet, or he slide an arm under her knees and behind her back and lifter her. Either way, they were soon making their careful way back through the service exit and onto the roof. He helped her get settled in front of the food again, and sat down across from her. He doled out her things, and then his own, and started to work on the food.

“How long have you known?” he asked, looking over at her between bites.

The man had just melted into so many roaches that the numbers had nearly covered half the floor around the red haired woman. As they scurried away into the shadow’s Melissa went pale, she looked at her feet, then took a step back still holding the pistol out as if waiting for the chittering mass to come after her. The old door’s rusted hinges held the door open as she pulled her foot from it. She gritted her teeth as she kept the pistol pointed at the red headed girl.

"Bug!” The red haired woman exclaimed as if Melissa hadn’t been there at all. "Bug! Get down here this instant!" The woman yelled at the mass of roaches as they scurried into the shadows of the room.

“What the hell, woman?” Jeremy’s voice announced his presence making Melissa jump and look at him a bit wide eyed. “Who’s in there?” He asked her as she looked back in the room at the red haired woman and the mass of bugs she knew was in there but couldn’t see.

“Bugs.. lots.. of bugs,” her voice squeaked out as she tried to get a hold of the utter complete revulsion that was building inside her. She just wanted to burn the whole building down, just to make sure the thing that had just exploded into thousands of dirty roaches didn’t come near her. Her hands trembled around the pistol as she pointed it at the red haired woman’s head.. she just wanted to shoot her.. she wanted to see her brains splatter against the wall, and she wanted to see the whole block burn. The monster behind the mask screamed to be set free as she visible trembled.. Her features though remained ice cold no emotion no colour her blue eyes dead. If the man had been a mutant, and this woman probably was. They probably were the ones responsible for the Orphanage; they had to both die it was her duty to kill them both. Her mind ran through things then she realized she couldn’t kill them. She had to bring them in she had to arrest them.

“Get on the ground! Put your hands up!” She yelled to the woman that she held the pistol trained on. Her eyes staying focused on the girl as she told Jeremy, “Mutants.. I think they might be who we are looking for.. There was a little boy that ran this way.. I think they are responsible for the orphanage.. one of them just turned into a bunch of roaches, and is still in the room.. Jeremy I might need your help.. Who knows what else they can do.... I need to take them in for questioning.” Her voice cold and hard yet with a slight edge as the monster slammed against the inside of her mask screaming for blood, screaming to burn everything. She felt dirty from head to toe and she wanted nothing more than to take a long bath and burn her cloths. She readied herself to blink if the woman did anything, if they were both mutants she might need to use her power to get rid of them. Her eyes scanned the area.. there was no blood, no tracks... nothing that would indicate that these two had been involved in the orphanage.. besides they were too old. She looked around the room frantically for any evidence that would link them, but from the door way she could see none.

She arched a brow and whispered to Jeremy, “There is no blood in here.. no kids.. I don’t see anything that makes me think it was them... careful though ok?” She pushed the monster back with all her will as she calmed her tone her weapon still trained on Melee.

Amy gently brushed some strands of her hair out of her face, as she waited at the counter. The desert was still cooling, and would still take some time to be completely ready. While waiting, Amy was listening to Zach's slow breaths of sleeping, and having a debate between eating a delicious strawberry, or stuffing more chocolate in her mouth. She declined to the chocolate, sadly, after figuring she already had enough, and plopped a strawberry in her mouth, chewing it in a musical rhythm. She, herself, thought about sleeping, but then the pie would get cold, and cold pie was never good, ever.

After waiting for what seemed like 2 seconds, though it was 10 minutes, Amy unglued her eyes from the TV and walked over to the pie. It smelled and looked delicious, with the crust crisp, a layer of peach-filling on top, then a layer of cream, followed by many more peach slices. Amy gently poked her finger into it, and stole some of the precious cream for a taste. With that one morsel, her mouth was set on an expedition of deliciousness. She turned to her small glass doll, that was still awake.

"Would you like some?" She laughed slightly. It walked forward, on accordance to her consciousness. and stopped near the end of the table. Amy poked her finger at the dolls head, making it bob a little. The doll move its hands to its face to wipe the cream from it. After words, it trembled slightly, and fell. Amy frowned. "Uhg. Keeping up for so long, I guess I can't handle even one for more than 2 hou-" Amy was saying, but was cut off as she looked threw a nearby door into a hall. A large, antique cabinet sat against the wall. Looking threw the glass, a light shined from above on lots and lots of small, immovable figures. All were dolls. Plastic, porcelain, glass, oh so many. Amy grabbed her doll and ran over to the cabinet. She wanted at least a couple of them!

Amy pulled on the door. It didn't open. Maybe it's stuck? Amy thought. She pulled harder. The whole cabinet shook, nearly falling over onto her. She jumped back, but the cabinet stayed still again. Amy huffed at her inability to open the large thing. She kicked it in her fury, not very hard, but enough to make it shake again. From atop the thing, a large key fell down between her legs. She peered down at the key for a moment, examining it. It was, like the cabinet, very antique looking. Looking back up at the cabinet, she found a keyhole. Amy slowly bent down, carefully picked the key up, and stuck it into the lock. Upon unlocking it, she reached inside and bombarded herself with the lovely variety of dolls. She took about 6 out, and to the counter. Spreading them all out, she gloated at each one. The Voodoo-freak may be weird, but he had great taste in old dolls. Amy lightly petted one of the dolls heads, slightly chuckling. By now, Amy had forgotten both pie and Zach's snoring.

Suddenly she had an idea. What if she could control more than just one doll....

(Sorry for the post on hiatus, but I needed to advance my character)