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Jensen Jones

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a character in “Descendant Academy”, as played by barnes

Description

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xxxJ E N S E N x J O N E Sxxxx p r o t e g e x o f x j e s s i c a x j o n e s x




"They say everyone's born a hero. But if you let it, life will push you over the line until you're the villain."
- Jessica Jones




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n a m e
Jensen Emery Jones

n i c k n a m e s
Jenn, JJ

a g e
25

g e n d e r
genderfluid (she/her pronouns)

s e x u a l i t y
pan-asexual (attraction to all genders but with a lack of interest in sex)

o r i g i n
Hell's Kitchen, New York City

s p e c i e s
human

c l a s s i f i c a t i o n
level 7 - physical



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h e i g h t
1.73m / 5'8"

w e i g h t
52kg / 114.6lbs

h a i r
Chocolate-dark and well-conditioned, Jensen's hair comes down to mid-back in carefully arranged disarray. Often it's left down, but when she's feeling fancy she'll braid the lot, maybe stick it up in a bun.


e y e s
Jensen's eyes are a startling blue, like ice chips set in her marble face, with a sly glint in them, and always watching, watching, watching.


m a r k i n g s
The heels of her hands and knees are marked with faded scars, the marks of an active childhood. She has a series of moles in the shape of the Lynx constellation across the back of her right shoulder, and sports a tattoo of a sprig of lavender on her right ankle, the one luxury she's allowed herself.


a p p e a r a n c e
What initially began as a front to avoid getting noticed in her job as private investigator eventually evolved into Jensen's signature look - tousled hair, aloof glare, and devil-may-care slouch, all artfully arranged to give off an air of indifference. She's inherited her mother's penchant for simple, practical clothing in varying shades of black and grey, although she does introduce a splash of blue every now and then, her favourite colour.





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s u p e r h u m a n x s t r e n g t h x // x She has strength beyond that of a regular human, especially notable considering her size. She is able to lift cars, throw projectiles through (non-reinforced) walls, break metal chains, and smash through glass and marble with her bare fists. In combat, she can easily overpower humans by throwing them across the room, or even send them flying with a single blow.
e n h a n c e d x s p e e dx // x She is able to run at speeds superior to the average human, and for long distances before getting tired. At her fastest, she has clocked a mile in three minutes.
f l i g h t x // x She is able to fly by propelling herself off a surface and through the air at various speeds and altitudes.



P R O F I C I E N C I E S

e n h a n c e d x d u r a b i l i t y x // x Her durability is far beyond that of a regular human, being able to resist multiple injuries with little to no visible injuries, particularly impact forces. This resilience also allows her to perform greater feats of strength without injuring herself.
r e g e n e r a t i v e x h e a l i n g x f a c t o rx // x Her augmented metabolism heals faster than an ordinary human being. She is capable of completely healing minor scratches and injuries in mere hours and major injuries like broken ribs in just a single day. It may also allow her to not be affected by the harmful and long-term effects of alcohol, leaving her only to experience brief intoxication and hangover while not experiencing any signs of toxicity.
t e l e p a t h i c x r e s i s t a n c e x // x She possesses mental blocks that give her a degree of resistance against mind control. It's likely that her mother's development of this ability following her experience at the Purple Man's hands was passed down to Jensen at birth.
s k i l l e d x i n v e s t i g a t o r x // x She is a highly skilled investigator, using a multitude of methods to achieve her goals. She is highly analytical, and is able to easily connect evidence that other people may overlook. She is not afraid of using methods that could be considered illegal, such as stealing things, or breaking into private places, often using her strength to break doors and padlocks, in order to obtain clues and advance in her cases. She is good enough that she has been offered the job of private investigator at Hogarth, Chao, and Benowitz, but as is Jones tradition, she turned the position down.
s k i l l e d x c o m b a t a n t x // x She is skilled in several types of martial arts, such as mixed martial arts and jiu-jitsu.



W E A K N E S S E S

a l c o h o l x d e p e n d e n c y x // x Well - more of a bad habit she picked up from her mother, considering that their metabolism prevent the effects of alcohol from lasting - but her response to most stressful situations is to take a drink before making a decision.
a i m l e s s x // x She's smart, capable, and more than able to navigate a world where multiple groups of people want her dead - and so what? She doesn't know what she wants to do with her life, nor where she hopes to end up at the end of it all.
s e l f x c o n f i d e n c e x // x Given her general lack of direction, it's easy for her to sink into the belief that she's not worth much aside from keeping Alias Investigations alive, and that her worth as a person evaporates the moment she loses the ability to provide her services.
f r i e n d s x // x It's not easy for her to make friends, but every time she makes a new friend she gains a new weakness - she's got a loyal streak a mile wide, and she'd do anything to help those she cares about.



F E A R S

c h i l d r e n x // x Her fear isn't of children, exactly, but of coming into contact with them, because she knows anything she says or does has the potential to ruin a child forever. She doesn't mind anyone else seeing the worst she has to offer, but she won't ruin a growing child.
b e i n g x l o n e l y x // x Maybe she's brought this on herself, but she fears spending the rest of her life without anyone to rely on, which is why she treasures her friends so much, even if she doesn't show it.
i m p o s t e r x s y n d r o m e x // x She constantly fears that even her best is not good enough, that someday she'll wake up and be exposed as a fraud, that even the little she's built her life on amounts to nothing.




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P E R S O N A L I T Y
x practical xx flippant xx self-serving xx sneaky x


Jensen is practical to a fault, never expending time, or money, or energy unless she can see a reason for doing so. Despite her relatively comfortable financial situation at current, she's almost paranoid about unnecessary spending, and is incredibly calculative when it comes to spending. It shows in her lifestyle - she tends to stick to the same food (often frozen meals), the same clothes (normally a jacket and jeans), the same forms of entertainment (a library membership is cheap, and movie tickets are half off on Thursdays). Additionally, she almost never does anything that doesn't benefit her directly. She doesn't mind if she doesn't come out on top, as long as she emerges unscathed she's not likely to sacrifice anything to help others. Sure, if you ask her to help she might agree, even if you don't offer anything in return, but don't expect her to willingly offer help, especially at her own expense.

Her lack of respect for authority marks her as a Jones. Much like her mother, she can easily be read as distant, rude, and snarky. Towards others, she is nothing less than disdainful and blunt, carrying herself and her opinions out loud with little forethought or regret to insulting or showing disrespect to anyone. Her general refusal to act without personal gain also sets her aside as a largely self-serving person that isn't exactly easy to get along with.

Jensen's training was probably ingrained a little too well, as she's in the habit of collecting information about others to shelve away for her personal use. She might not consciously make the decision to tail and eavesdrop on people, but she's a lot more observant than most people give her credit for, able to learn about others quickly given the chance to interact with them. Just for an added element of safety, she's also likely to keep any secrets she learns, in case she needs a shield for any reason.

Despite all that, she just really wants to be seen as a person with emotions and opinions instead of a rival. This is the only lifestyle she's ever known, and it's next to impossible for her to change who she is, but look past all that and Jensen's just someone trying to get through life, fearful that she's a huge fraud with no real worth. She wants to be known for who she is, and not for the role of rival she might play for many others.





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H I S T O R Y


Occasionally, Jessica Jones gives a damn. And occasionally, giving a damn has its consequences.

At first it seemed like Jessica had finally caught a break. A boyfriend who loved her, and their child on the way, coupled with a comfortable lifestyle - nothing could be better. It didn't even matter that Jensen was not a boy, as her father had hoped. As a compromise, she gained the boyish name her parents had been saving, stepping into the mould of her parents' expectations almost immediately. But then her abilities began manifesting when she was 8, and her father decided he couldn't help raise a child that could break him anytime she had a tantrum. So he left.

It pretty much broke Jessica. For the next few years Jensen had more responsibility in her own parenting than Jessica did, learning to navigate the streets of Hell's Kitchen and manage their household with the help of the internet. When her mother had finally pulled herself together and rebuilt Alias Investigations, Jensen had grown into a cynical, slightly paranoid adolescent who only really cared for herself and her mother. Figuring that it was too late to try to gain Jensen's forgiveness, or even to set her on a better path, Jessica took on the role of mentor, teaching Jensen to use her powers and imparting her own skills as a private investigator to her.

Growing up, Jensen wasn't entirely starved of interaction with others like her. She had the opportunity to learn from her mother's old colleagues the Defenders, and when her mother took in the intern Phoebe Prince, they worked together briefly under Jessica until Phoebe left. Though they weren't all that close, Jensen was surprised to reconnect with Phoebe at the Academy, proving once again the small world of the gifted.





h e x c o d e x // x #2B4F81 x // x f a c e c l a i m x // x jessica de gouw x // x c r e a t o r x // x barnes x // x c s x // x mjolnir


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So begins...

Jensen Jones's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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xxxxxxx p a r e n t a g ex // xconstantine
xxxxxxx a t t i r ex // xoutfit
xxxxxxx h e x c o d ex // xd1a043

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Always the same process every time. Sit in a room with Bruce Wayne. Go over how the job went and then listen to pointless bullshit. Alec thought they would've come up with a better process by now. He got pulled out of school because the legendary John Constantine had a supernatural problem. Well, it was more than one. First there was the possessed teenager, followed by a vampire hoard, the usual zombies, and then more demons plotting to take over the world. Don't forget throwing a random sermon in there. Normal Tuesday stuff.

"You missed today's simulation training. Mycroft suggests you make it up." Bruce piped in while looking over Alec's reports of what he'd been up to the last several weeks he'd been gone. His response was to put a cigarette between his lips. Of course... Mr. Wayne didn't approve of this. "No smoking in my office." Alec smirked at him. "So I missed a little training for real world experience. Sounds more like Mycroft just wants some sugar as payment which I'll be happy to give if he brings me Jack before we do the deed. After all, the lord does say not to lay with another man." He laughed and winked at him which actually got the Bat to smile a bit.

"You won't have to make up the simulation." He shuffled a few papers and signed a few others. "I just expect you behave yourself at the gala and get yourself a date in a legal profession." Alec held up his arms in defiance. "But it's in the Vatican and the bible! Clearly the Lord thinks it is a profession!" Bruce shook his head and dismissed him from his office.

Alec couldn't help but laugh to himself as he walked down the hall. He also wasted no time lighting his cigarette with his father's lighter and took a long and very much needed drag. He held in the smoke for a bit before exhaling and continued down the hallway puffing away. He even took a couple swigs from the flask he had in his coat pocket. Like father like son.

It was weird how quiet it felt walking to the lift. Alec was expecting Wren or Jensen to pop in out no where and welcome him back. Sure it was pretty early in the day but they are the Unholy Trinity after all. Alec decided he'd pay them a visit as he stepped into the lift and clicked on Wren's floor first. The doors opened and Wren appeared right before him. God sure does work in mysterious ways. Or evil ways depending how you looked at it.

Alec smirked and leaned against the elevator doors. He was leaned to the side to keep the doors opened but was also blocking her way in. "Oh my, sugar. How is it you just keep looking sweeter and sweeter than cherry pie each time I come back?" He laid the southern charm on extra thick just for her before giving a big grin and opening his arms up for a hug. "How has my favorite gunslinger been?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Jack Murdock Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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#, as written by barnes
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ImageIt took some wrangling (or maybe he'd just been clutching the wall like a fool for a few minutes while Jack and Ross watched - it was a little fuzzy) but Riley eventually made it inside Jack's penthouse, collapsing on the far end of Jack's couch. Legs extended out onto the floor, he groped around and found a pillow, stuffing it under his head. The adrenaline from earlier had worn off, and it was becoming rapidly apparently how exhausted Riley was.

A short while later, he groaned, opening his eyes. "I think I passed out for a few minutes." The smell of cooking food filled the place, and Riley groaned again, torn between dozing off and attacking whatever Jack was cooking. "Murdock. I might actually eat you and then fall asleep on your couch again if you don't feed me soon," he mumbled into the pillow. His weight dragged the pillow closer and closer to the edge, until eventually he slid off the couch, the rest of him hitting the floor with a muffled thump. "Fuck me." The floor was just as fine.

At Jack's question, Riley rolled over, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. "That vulture could have given us a heads up, I don't have anyone to go with! Although I already have a suit, there's one department I'm not worried about." He turned to flash a sheepish grin at Ross, who knew how he swung - although not Jack, who wasn't exactly in the know.
Which was fine, not like he was going around with a banner and a bullhorn to announce it, only Riley wasn't exactly sure that he wanted to go around telling everyone about his sexuality. "How about you guys, do you have your shit ready?"


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ImageJensen awoke in the car sometime before dawn, lulled to sleep by the low rumble of the engine and the tiredness of an entire night out stalking clients - excuse me, dangerous clients. The kind that even Jessica might be hard-pressed to turn over to more capable hands. Face pressed against the window, she watched the city slide by as the sun rose, changing the colour of the landscape.

"I probably won't need your help for a while more," Jessica said as she dropped Jensen off a few blocks down from the Tower. "Besides, Mycroft's annoyed that I took you out when he was planning a simulation. Maybe make it up. Or don't." Her mother's raspy laugh followed her out of the car, still ringing in her ears as she strode up to the front doors of the Tower. Keep up drinking and she would probably end up sounding like Jessica - her mother's daughter all right.

After bypassing the necessary security checks at the entrance to the Tower, Jensen strode into the front hall. Those preppy English kids should see our school - they'd shit their pants. The sound of her boots striking the marble floor echoed through the hall, Jensen humming tunelessly to herself, considering where she could go now that she was...home?

Well, home first it was. She took the elevator straight up to her penthouse, peeling her jacket off as she entered the door and tossing it in the general direction of the laundry bin. "JARVIS! Get the laundry for me, yeah?"

"Of course, Miss Jones. And may I say how good it is to have you back," the AI's voice greeted her.

Jensen snorted. "Somehow I kind of doubt that, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Pulling on a fresh set of clothes, Jensen paused to refill her flask and jam a frozen chocolate muffin into her mouth, hopping back into the elevator. Her friends would be up, and knowing that Alec had spent the night outside doing work would make for good conversation. Alec's penthouse...nope, empty. Probably at Wren's then - yep, there they were.

"Hey, you guys. What'd I miss?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Jack Murdock Character Portrait: Phoebe Prince Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Zozo Zatara Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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#, as written by mjolnir
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xxxxxxxxxxa t t i r e x//x outfit
xxxxxxxxxxd i a l o g u e x//x #FF0057


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Boom! Frankie's bathroom door came crashing down before her, causing her to scream as she jumped slightly. Then Nathaniel came crashing in behind it, stepping over the door. He made his way over to her, kneeling down on the ground.

"Are you okay, Francita?" He took her hands while looking over her like she might have been injured.

"Yeah... I..." Frankie's gaze fell down to their hands. Her cheeks flushing slightly. She couldn't believe she made a scene. Even though it was only in front of Nathaniel. "I just... saw a spider." Her brows furrowed as her gaze drifted off into the distance. Stupid. Spiderman Jr., scared of spiders!? She shook her head, laughing weakly.

"I'm going to get you a water."

"Oh... ok..." her voiced trailed after him when he walked away back into her penthouse. When he returned, he handed her a water bottle. Frankie opened it and took a drink as Nathaniel picked up her bathroom door and leaned it against the wall. She chuckled softly as he rubbed the back of his head and smiled towards her.

He then came back over to her, kneeling down in front of her. Frankie went a little cross eyed when Nathaniel put the back of his hand on her forehead, checking for a fever. "Do you want me to carry you to your bed?"

Frankie laughed softly, reaching her hand up to gently grab his hand and move it from her forehead. "I'm fine... I think my fatigue is just catching up with me." She smiled as convincing as she could manage.

After taking another drink from her water, she stood up. With Nathaniel's hand still in hers, she helped him to his feet. "Do you want something to eat? Or drink?... Maybe coffee?" Frankie gently released his hand before walking past him. She carefully moved around the propped up door. As she made her way to the kitchen, she muttered under her breath to herself, "Or perhaps something stronger..."

Frankie chugged the rest of the water as she snaked her way around the island in the middle of her kitchen. She touched her hand to the side of the coffee pot, feeling that it had gone cold. She poured out the old coffee and started a new brew. As it began to warm up, she rested her hands on the counter taking a deep breath. The Hydra symbol was burned in her mind as she stood there. With a sigh, she rubbed her eyes, then opened the cabinet over head. She tip toed, trying to reach the mugs on the top shelf. Frankie looked over her shoulder towards her quiet company. "Hey Nate, do you mind?" She pointed at the cups on the top shelf.



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"Yo, Ross. Where the devil's the Devil, huh? Don't tell me you got kicked out."

Ross must have dozed off in the hall, because when Riley arrived he snorted loudly, lifting his head up from the wall. He wiped the drool stream from his chin, then rubbed his eyes as Riley sat down across from him. "I don' get kicked out of places... I am the party." He gave his best smirk although it was quickly erased by a yawn.

"Y'know the party's inside, guys," Jack said when he opened the door to his room.

"Correction," Ross held up his index finger, then yawned. "The party is where ever I am." He then slowly, very slowly, moved to his feet and stretched. He trudged his way into the penthouse behind Riley, cracking his neck as he moved.

"Next time just come in. I was showering so that's why I didn't hear y'all. I really don't care if you see me in a towel. Or butt-naked. Whatever. This academy is basically college part two..."

"My bad, horns... Eh was raised with manners."

"Make yourselves at home. Mi casa es su casa, amigos."

Riley made his way over to the couch, so Ross instead lagged behind Jack. He took a seat on one of the bar stools. He rested his elbow on the counter, chin in his palm. It seemed like his stomach just grew more angry as the smells grew throughout the penthouse. He fought hard, lifting his eyes in slow heavy blinks as he tried to keep from dozing off.

"I think I passed out for a few minutes." Ross' head nearly fell and hit the counter, waking up slightly at Riley's words. "Murdock. I might actually eat you and then fall asleep on your couch again if you don't feed me soon."

"Cheers to that," Ross said as he slammed his forehead down on his arm.

"So how about that wonderful surprise at the end of simulations? Mycroft really knows the right times to make announcements, doesn't he?"

Ross groaned, but Riley spoke up before he could complain. No one really wanted to hear that anyway. "That vulture could have given us a heads up, I don't have anyone to go with! Although I already have a suit, there's one department I'm not worried about." Ross ran a hand back through his hair, rustling it with a yawn smiling in response to Riley's grin. "How about you guys, do you have your shit ready?"

Ross turned slightly so that he was half facing Jack and the other half towards Riley. "Eh mate, I'm going stag." He looked down at his hand as he picked at his nails. It was his own dumb fault for suggesting she go with Tobias instead of just asking her like any other guy would do. As much as it was dumb, he didn't regret his decision to suggest it. He isn't that selfish. "You could go with meh? We'd be the sexiest couple there... I mean look at meh." He motioned to his face where he gave a tired attempt at a seductive grin.

His invitation wasn't by any means to try and put his secret out in the open. But they were friends and friends go together all the time. Unless he had ideas about someone to ask, and Ross was stuck completely solo. "Jack could round it up to 'n uneven three... 'da sexy amigos'." He scratched his scruffy jawline, giving Jack a sideways glance that was a bit suggestive. "But I think pretteh boy over here has someone else in mind."

After a moment, Ross realized he didn't actually answer Riley's question. "Oy... I do have a suit. I always come prepared for all sorts of occasions. You'd be surprised what is in meh closet."

Now, a little bit more away, Ross' gaze drifted around the penthouse realizing they were seriously under numbered. He reached in his pocket, pulling out his phone and sent a text to everyone that was at the simulation bullshit.

Compose text message to : The Cool Descendants
"Ey fuckers... Murdock's makin' food and we're bitchin' about ole cue ball's gala bull shite."

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xxW R E N00W I L S O N
xxxxxxxxxxp a r e n t a g e x//x deadpool
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xxxxxxxxxxd i a l o g u e x//x #BB141E


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Wren pressed the button for the elevator nearly at the same time it slid open in front of her. She crossed her arms over her chest as she saw Alec before her, leaning in the entrance, blocking her way in. "Oh my, sugar. How is it you just keep looking sweeter and sweeter than cherry pie each time I come back?"

"So, that's why your eyes are brown... Because you're full of shit," Wren deadpanned with her arms crossed.

Alec extended his arms out towards her like he wanted a hug. "How has my favorite gunslinger been?"

Wren rolled her eyes, ducking under his arms, bumping him out of the way with her hip. She pressed the button for Jack's floor, but before the doors closed she saw Jensen walking towards them both.

"Hey, you guys. What'd I miss?"

"Fuck you both," Wren said, pointing at them accusingly as the doors closed and the elevator started to ascend. "Dickhead makes us do a fucking simulation at like... 3 a.m. A giant ass Hydra base. And because both of you dildos weren't there, I worked with the Catholic Saint." Not that she minded working with Jack or whatever else. Wren always had a flare for the dramatics where her friends were concerned... And in a nutshell, she was just pissed that she had to go through it and they didn't.

"So, of course... All these fucking sims were after us when we got to this damned envelope that 'couldn't be destroyed or read or breathed on funny,'" she made air quotes with her fingers. "Then there was a grenade and a fuck ton of glass... shit in me." Wren untied her cardigan showing her almost entirely healed torso where only feint slashes all over her pale skin could be seen where the glass once was. "Then horns has like a fucking panic attack thinking I'm dying... Which is just dumb..."

Now she was rambling. Angry rambling. Wren does that... A lot. Jensen and Alec, of course, were more than used to her mouth... And temper... And everything else. "All of that for a fucking invitation to a mother fucking gala! A gala, where we have to prove to the government assholes that we don't need a leash!"

The elevator came to a stop at Jack's floor. Wren walked out once the doors were open, honestly not sure if thing 1 and 2 were following... But she knew they would. "And you asshats!" She stopped midway down the hall, turning to face them. "You all get a pass because mommy and daddy needed help... Fucking bullshit." Now that all of that bull was off her chest, Wren felt better. "So, fuck you both," she said once again, pointing at them both.

With that, Wren turned towards Jack's door. She didn't even attempt to knock and instead just walked on in. Her brows furrowed only seeing Jack and his two half asleep friends. "I brought the parasites," Wren said, motioning her thumb over her shoulder towards Alec and Jensen. She then beelined for the kitchen, or more importantly, Jack.

"What's so important you couldn't just ask me over text?" Wren asked as she walked up behind Jack. She leaned over his shoulder, looking at the food he was cooking, taking in a deep breath. "What's that over there?" She pointed to Jack's right, distracting him as she stole a piece of bacon from the pan. She smirked towards him when he looked back at her.

Wren held the bacon between her teeth as she hopped up onto the counter beside the stove. She took a bite of the chewy meat, before looking back over at him. "I'm nearly healed, horns," she said as she opened her cardigan so he could see that all the glass wounds were practically gone. As for modesty... Well Wren had none. She had a sports bra on, it's not like she was waving the girls around. Who cares. "So, if that was your question... You can get your panties out of a bunch." She yanked off another bite. "I'm fine." Wren smirked, then held the piece of bacon out towards him, offering Jack a bite.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Jack Murdock Character Portrait: Phoebe Prince Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Zozo Zatara Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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xxxxxparentage // daredevil
xxxxxoutfit // xxxxxxdialogue // BB141E




J A C Kx M U R D O C K
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He continued his cooking, working the blender to fix up some good old-fashioned hollandaise sauce. In the meantime, Ross chattered away. "Eh mate, I'm going stag," he answered Riley, who had slid off the couch and was now spread across the hardwood floor like a rug.

"It's gonna snow pink. You're actually going stag, Ross?" Jack chortled, "I don't believe that for a second."

His friend turned to Riley. "You could go with meh? We'd be the sexiest couple there... I mean look at meh."

"Ew," Jack deadpanned after glancing over his shoulder into Ross's "seductive" face. The hollandaise sauce complete, it was time to poach the eggs. Swiftly, he cracked a few into a small bowl, then slipped them into the saucepan of boiling water. "Jack could round it up to 'n uneven three... 'da sexy amigos'," Ross scratched his scruff while the Devil of Hell's Kitchen began to toast the english muffins and taste the lemony hollandaise. It was creamy and rich - just right. With his enhanced taste, everything needed to be precise. Saying Jack was "picky" when it came to eating was an understatement. As a child, his taste buds were more sensitive than Gordon Ramsay's.

"But I think pretteh boy over here has someone else in mind." The Mirror Master shot him a sideways glance. Maybe inviting Ross to the penthouse was a bad idea...he was rowdier than a morning lark."Yeah. Your theoretical sister." No amount of friendly teasing would pry open details of his personal life. Even with good friends, he kept quiet about that stuff. Especially if it involved sappy romance.

Besides, it seemed unlikely Wren would make an appearance. Many minutes had passed and she had yet to answer his text. She was probably asleep in her bed, where any sane person would go after simulations. Then again, Wren never slept. Nor was she sane. Who knew what she was off doing at this hour. Probably watching more movies, eating more popcorn...

"I think I have a suit for tomorrow. I'll have to check my-"

All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door. Could it be...

"I'm letting myself in." Not the voice he'd been expecting. Caitria Allen twisted the doorknob and strutted into his penthouse, her platinum blonde hair glowing in the light. "Hope you're all decent." The round of silence that followed wasn't awkward, but it was certainly unprecedented. Unless she also had enhanced senses, there was no way Caitria could've known about the breakfast soirée happening on this floor. Unless...

"What did you do now, McCulloch?" Inside his wildly buzzing phone, Jack found the catalyst of Caitria's unexpected arrival...

New text message from : The Mirror Fuckin' Masterrrr
"Ey fuckers... Murdock's makin' food and we're bitchin' about ole cue ball's gala bull shite."


Well, now it would really be a party. "This isn't IHop, Ross! You can't just expect me to prepare breakfast for the whole academy! I have no qualms with more guests, but you should've asked before-"

"I brought the parasites." Caught off guard, he crashed into the refrigerator, a slough of magnets falling to the floor. So she had received his message after all. "Heyyyyy..." Slightly-nervous smile etched onto his lips, he scratched a hand across the back of his head. Wren had motioned to other friends she'd brought along, but they weren't visible from behind the doorframe. All he saw was her. Jack brushed the collection of NYC magnets under the fridge and tried to play it cool, returning to his culinary masterpiece.

"What's so important you couldn't just ask me over text?" She leaned over his shoulder, inhaling the many scents wafting from his countertop and stove. He was almost done assembling the eggs benedict...she'd arrived at a perfect time. "What's that over there?" He honestly thought Wren was pointing her finger at Phoebe's lonely shield and was just about to explain what had happened...when he turned back to find her chewing on a strip of bacon. How typical. "Hey, that doesn't come cheap, y'know. Save some for the rest of us, Wrenpool..."

"I'm nearly healed, horns," she said from atop his counter while opening her cardigan, flashing a sports bra to the penthouse's small audience. For modesty's sake, he kept his eyes low, focusing on the english muffins meant for Ross, Riley, and now Caitria. Not to say his whole attention was on the food..."So, if that was your question...You can get your panties out of a bunch. I'm fine." Wren smirked, then held the piece of bacon out towards him. He took a bite, his eyes on hers while he chewed, and smirked back.

"Damn, I'm a good cook...Anyways, yes. I know you're all right. You've made that apparent many times now..." He grabbed a few plates from inside his cabinet and began placing his finished creations on top of each white surface. They were warm, gooey, tender, and with the rich hollandaise sauce he poured on top of each muffin, glowing. Perhaps Riley would regain his strength after taking a bite. "...But that's not what I wanted to ask you. Mind if we talk in private? Far from this madding crowd..."

Before allowing the guests to help themselves to the breakfast, Jack carried a plate of eggs benedict over to the earthbound Riley. "Watch the door for me, okay?" he whispered to him, "and make sure Ross doesn't invite the Avengers next." He led Wren to the hallway inbetween his bedroom and bathroom. Shaded with grey shadows, it provided a fair amount of quietude and seclusion. He would've taken her to hallway outside the penthouse, but seeing as Ross sent a mass text to the whole damn school...well, he didn't want to embarrass Wren in front of any other teasing friends.

"So uh...I really enjoyed working with you. You saved my ass today and I'm grateful for that." He gazed over his shoulder to make sure no one was peeking around the corner. Might as well get right to the point..."I'd really like for us to hang out again and so I was wondering...do you want to go to the dance with me tomorrow?"



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xxxxxparentage // wonder woman
xxxxxoutfit // xxxxxxxdialogue // EAC117

xxxxx in collaboration with Scar.-




P H O E B Ex P R I N C E
__________________

Three knocks on the door, and she was in. "Hello, Mycroft."

"Ms. Prince," he said without even raising his gaze to look her way. After a moment or two, Mycroft finally glanced up. "Well, come in and have a seat... Or, linger in the doorway if you prefer."

She took the empty chair in front of his desk. It was smaller than she expected, and quite plain. Not much more than the desk and a few chairs for company...If he ever had company. It made sense why he seemed so angry all the time; how could you be happy in a concrete box without windows? Where the windows should have been were several monitors that flicked through different surveillance footage of the academy. One showed the lobby of the building, another the training ground, multiple focused on the different students throughout the building and the last of the roof where Tobias sat and Thaelia just joined.

"Right, then," she started, straightening her posture. A stern expression, the one she typically donned in court, faded over her fine features. Athena, guide me looped through her subconscious like a turning record. Deep breath in, deep breath out. "Mr. Xavier, I have heard some distressing news from a close confidante of mine: you intend to restrict Tobias Lehnsherr from attending the gala tomorrow. Is that true?"

Mycroft put down what he was doing, now giving Phoebe his undivided attention. "I do not see how this concerns you, but yes... That is correct."

She crooked her head to the side. "May I ask why?"

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You know who Tobias' father is I take it?... A criminal. Magneto leads the strongest and most dangerous force in the world at this current moment. The Brotherhood is nothing to brush off or ignore. Humans, heroes and mutants alike have been trying to take him down for decades. But fighting one of the most powerful men alive is not easy." Mycroft cupped his hands together before him, pausing momentarily. "Tobias is just as strong, if not stronger. His allegiances, as of now, are unknown. It is not safe to have the son of a terrorist faction in the same room as U.N. officials. The Brotherhood wants the removal of humans to allow for their evolutionary superiors to take over. Having him around Thaddeus or any other important human is dangerous."

"Actually, I disagree, sir. I have only attended this academy for three weeks, but I know my peers. Tobias Lehnsherr and I may not be close," she stared down at her knees, her pale fingers wringing together, "but I can tell he's a man of good character. Not to cast judgements upon him, but he usually keeps to himself whenever in crowds. I don't see him recruiting mutants into the Brotherhood, unlike his father. I haven't heard anything suspicious about Tobias Lehnsherr. It's wrong to persecute a son for the sins of his father, wouldn't you agree?" Surely he had to. Considering the nasty rumors floating around about Charles Xavier - the fake deaths, sending a group of young mutants to their demise, putting the X-Men in unnecessary danger after feigning power loss - Mycroft had to relate.

"But you just admitted to not knowing him well," Mycroft replied. "Three weeks Ms. Prince, that's all you know. We have students who have been here from the beginning. Believe it or not, Wren Wilson's judgement would carry more weight than your own." His face seemed to harden a bit at the mention of fathers. At least something got to him. "And everyone is judged on the actions of their parents, if you believe anything else then you're lying to yourself."

She had to keep herself from snorting. If anyone were to judge Phoebe on the noble actions of her parent, they'd be sorely disappointed. She was far different and underwhelming compared to the fierce spirit that was her mother. "If you restrict Tobias Lehnsherr from the gala, it would only be fair to ban the descendants of other criminals as well. Bane, General Zod, Toxin, Poison Ivy...their children received acceptance letters. And despite their parents' records being far from squeaky-clean, they have permission to attend the gala tomorrow evening. Aren't those criminals also involved in shadowy organizations and activities, just like Magneto? It would appear there is a double standard, Mr. Xavier. And if you think Thaddeus Ross or any other U.N. officials won't notice it tomorrow, you are gravely mistaken."

She crossed her ankles, quickly taking a breath before Mycroft could take the next word. "The purpose of the gala is to convince the U.N. the academy does not need government control or surveillance and is a safe environment, correct?. Thaddeus Ross and his cohorts aren't blind. They're going to search for something out of line, and if they discover one student has been excluded from the illustrious event due to his father's ties to the Brotherhood of Mutants, that's going to seem very suspicious. How can you show Descendant Academy has nothing to hide when you're hiding something? It could be grounds to shut down the school."

She peered deep into his dark brown eyes, trying to discern the meaning behind his stoic glare. If only she could crack through Mycroft's bald head and analyze the turning cogs of his mind, perhaps she'd know how to win him over easier. "Then what would you suggest Ms. Prince? I could just remove them all from the gala, hell, the academy. Let the spawns of some of the most dangerous people walk about the streets. I'm sure that's safe. Or better yet, show off Lehnsherr like a show dog on a leash. He has no friends here, Ms. Prince. No one to vouch as a character witness, so I can't take that chance. Nathaniel Bane, Lilith Isley, Ross McCulloch, Ulrich Zod and the rest of them do. They've made friends, at least attempted to be part of what we're trying to make here. Tobias Lehnsherr sits in his penthouse not speaking to anyone aside from his niece between training sessions. I don't think that proves that he is anything other than a plant at this school."

But sometimes you don't get a choice in friendship, Phoebe wanted to say. She gazed over at the monitor behind him, watching Tobias and Thaleia on the roof. Well, he certainly wasn't alone now. She believed he was trying. He had to be. It was the students who were too afraid to become friends with him, not the other way around. "Let Tobias into the gala. Maybe don't put him on a leash, but show Thaddeus Ross you are grooming him, as well as the other descendants of criminals, for heroism. Show him they are setting better examples than their parents. As my good friend, Frankie Parker, would say, 'with great power comes great responsibility.' Show Ross and his associates the academy is instilling responsibility into each student as well as allowing them to reach their full potentials as gifted individuals, and I can guarantee you this place will be running without a hitch for many more years. And say the worst case scenario is true: that Tobias Lehnsherr is loyal to his father's infamous cause - it would still be unwise to exclude him from the gala. If he runs off and tells Magneto about the discrimination he faced at Descendant Academy, that only gives the Brotherhood grounds to attack the school, since we'd be proving their ideology. We wouldn't want to do that - it would lead to more trouble than it's worth."

While she waited for Mycroft's response, a response she knew would be tainted in opposition, two things twirled inside her mind. The first was a strong piece of advice a Harvard professor had given her and Jack many moons ago. When it comes to negotiation, anticipate your adversary's strongest counterpoint and prevent them from pounding it with a self-interesting deal. Mycroft was a stubborn man. If someone was untrustworthy to him, there was no use trying to convince him of that person's natural goodness. No way she could sway his opinions with a few pretty words: she needed to influence him with action as well. The second thing was a word of wisdom she had been given mere minutes ago: a nine-letter word called sacrifice, to be specific. If T'Chioke's mantra could allow him the successful management of a nation, it could allow her the managment of this tension-filled encounter. She knew what she needed to propose. Her heart didn't want to propose it, but her head knew it was necessary to prevent further conflict. With another deep breath and a final glance at Tobias's image on the monitor, she continued.

"I'll watch him for you," she said. "Tobias Lehnsherr. I'll watch him for you and if his actions prove untrustworthy, I'll report them. If the situation grows dire, I have this..." she pulled out the golden lasso of truth, which gave off heat and luster like molten lava, and wrapped it firmly around her wrist. "You have my word and confidence."

Mycroft pursed his lips, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk. "This burden will be your own. If Tobias puts a toe out of order, it won't just be his head... But yours too."

"I've interned at Alias Investigations - that's how you know you can trust me. Jessica Jones, the finest private eye in New York City, trained me in the art of detective work. If you need her to do anything in this endeavor, I can give you the number."

"I don't care if you studied under Nancy Drew or Sherlock Holmes himself. If Tobias catches on to what you're doing, I can not protect you." Mycroft began to organize the papers on his desk. "If I need a detective I'll reach out to Jessica Jones personally, or better yet, her daughter Jensen that's been going to this academy... Well, longer than you." He wasn't happy about this agreement -
it was apparent all over his face. "Stick to what you know Ms. Prince, fighting the bad guys and finding the truth... Leave the detective work to the professionals."

Her heart stopped. The blush in Phoebe's face went white - whiter than the ghost from her past come back to haunt her. Jensen Jones was enrolled at Descendant Academy? How come she hadn't seen her in the three weeks she'd been attending? And furthermore,
why hadn't Jack told her!? He was starting to become the worst friend in the world. She gulped. "Oh. Good then. So it's settled." It was as though the lasso were tied around her neck. "You have my eyes, as well as Jessica's and....Jensen's...if need be..." Nothing more to say (and nothing more she could work herself up to say), Phoebe darted towards the door. "I'll see you soon, Mycroft. Thanks for your cooperation." Once it closed, she pressed herself against the hallway's end.

Athena, fucking guide me.

It was hard to tell whether this news was good or bad. Phoebe just stood there, motionless, choking on air. Because in the past (and now in the present), Jensen Jones always managed to take her breath away.




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xxxxxparentage // zatanna
xxxxxoutfit // x
xxxxxdialogue // B048B5




Z O Z Ox Z A T A R A
__________________

A lot of people forgot about the pool on the roof. After a certain amount of time at Descendant Academy, it started to blend in with the rest of the scenery. No one really swam in it, especially not during the fall or winter months. It was just kind of there: visible, but not in the forefront of anyone's mind. Just like Zozo, who was fast asleep on a neon green pool floatie, purple swim trunks covering his lower half and a pair of Ray-Bans over his eyes.

He just lay there, submerged over the water while inside the stupor of sleep. Finally, his lids began to blink open after Ross's mass text caused his cellphone to buzz. Maybe it wasn't wise to keep a Galaxy s4 inside the pocket of your swim trunks, but whatever. Magic could make anything waterproof. He groggily swatted his leg at first, thinking he could just kill the vibration like it was a fly buzzing against his skin. But as the sensation persisted, he knew it was time to get up. God damn it was cold - colder than a witch's teat, as his mom would say. Probably because he wasn't wearing a shirt. Or maybe because the sky was still pitch-black. Well, at least it looked pitch-black, since, oh yeah...there were shades over his eyes.

"Ohhhhhh shit..." he whispered while thumbing them to the top of his head, realizing an ocean of chlorinated water sat between him and dry land. Of all the random locations he'd awoken to the sight of, this was definitely on his top five list. Weirder than the middle of Times Square, but definitely not as iconic as the floor of a Brazilian ice cream truck on its way to the 2016 Olympic Games. He had a penchant for waking up in strange places. This instance barely fazed him.

You know those moments when you're alone and the sheer thought of being all by yourself in a barren place leaves you anxious? Like a ghost will pop out at you or something similarly spooky? That's what was running through his rambunctious mind. So, naturally, when he slowly turned his head towards a dark corner to find the intimidating Tobias Lehnsherr lounging on a lawn chair...

"AAAAHHHHH!!!"

Splash.

"FUCK! FUCK THAT'S COLD!" He sploshed around like a baby penguin trying to swim for the first time. "TOBY, YOU COULD'VE MADE YOUR PRESENCE KNOWN IN A LESS TRAUMATIC WAY! NOW I'M FUCKING DROWNING LOOK WHAT
YOU'VE-"


He was bubbling underneath the water before he could finish the sentence. For a few moments, the pool was still. No waves or sporadic splashing or anything. Then finally, Zozo came back up for air, a misty vapor rising along with his ascension. His nostrils flared, then both hands ran through the blue-black mop atop his head. Like a mop, it was sopping wet, slicked to his skull. The sunglasses were long gone, floating somewhere near the shallow end.

"Just kidding. I've been swimming since the diaper days." He doggie-paddled over to the nearest edge and pressed his forearms into the concrete, gazing at Tobias with a mischievous smirk while still submerged in the water. "Okay. So I know what you're thinking," he said, "I can see the question hidden behind those icy blue eyes, and I'll admit the answer is embarrassing. I was practicing spell-casting...while underwater," He gazed up at the sky, away from that ever-judging Lehnsherr glare. "Like I wanted to see if it would work. But every time I said something it came out like hbluhbluhbluh because y'know...I was underwater. You can't pronounce backwards words correctly with H2O flowing in your mouthhole..." He propped his left palm against his cheek, momentarily analyzing the beautiful navy and purple colors which seeped into the sunrise. "I think the more delicious question is, what are you, Toby the Hermit, doing on the rooftop during the wee hours of the morning?"

Just then, another person approached the scene. "Something wicked this way walks," Zozo mused once he recognized the small stature and hawkish features of Thaleia Castle. "Oh," she said at Tobias in monotone, "It's you."

"And me," Zozo gave a large grin. "Good evening-morning Thaleia." He pulled out his phone, clearly waterlogged, and placed it onto the concrete, trying to think up a simple spell that would fix it. With his dyslexia, sometimes he found motioning the letters with his finger helped him recite the spell easier. So his pinkie traced five invisible letters into the solid ground. Then once he was ready, he said, "Niard," and the excess water spurted out through the fissures of his device. Thank god for magic. He typed in his password and viewed the text which had woken him up mere seconds ago...

From: And the Oscar For Best Scottish Accent Goes To...
Ey fuckers... Murdock's makin' food and we're bitchin' about ole cue ball's gala bull shite.


"OH MY GOD WHAT THERE'S A PARTY AT MURDOCK'S!" he shouted to Tobias and Thaleia. What the hell were they doing on the roof when the Devil of Hell's Kitchen was deviling around in his kitchen? "What else happened while I was asleep? Why is everyone up so goddamn early this morning?"

Just then, it clicked. "Wait. Don't tell me," he facepalmed. "There was a simulation wasn't there? And I missed it..." Scrunching his face up into a ball, he moaned, then slowly slipped back into the water. This time, he didn't feel like coming back up.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Jack Murdock Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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ImagePetra's short conversation with Riley on the elevator left her feeling even more bereft than before. She couldn't explain the sudden bout of depression over her social life - or lack thereof - but remembering Riley's words made her feel even worse. He was still friendly, still trying to make conversation despite the cold, curt responses she'd offered him on so many occasions. And the anxiety and panic he held so tightly to himself, thinking no one knew - sometimes she couldn't decide if she was supposed to admire or pity the Barton boy.

Upon entering her penthouse, the cape was discarded over the coat rack, and Petra sank back onto the couch, curling back into the position she'd been in before the morning started. With a blanket pulled around her shoulders and the weight of a book in her hands, Petra was quickly cocooned in peace, sinking her mind into the world of fiction. At least like this she could occupy herself with something aside from her thoughts.

The quiet didn't last long. Her phone, abandoned on a table by the door, buzzed with a text. Without looking, Petra raised her hand and levitated the device over to her. A few quick swipes of her finger in midair, crimson streaks corresponding to her hand motions zipping across the phone's screen, and the phone unlocked, displaying Ross's text.

From: Ross McCulloch [DA]
Ey fuckers... Murdock's makin' food and we're bitchin' about ole cue ball's gala bull shite.


Well...why not. At this point, Petra was so eager to spend time around people that she'd be willing to go to breakfast with her classmates. Even the ones she didn't have a strong relationship with, and she could bet that Wren would be more than happy to oblige such an invitation. She rose from the couch, her back popping as it straightened, and the blanket folded itself up neatly on the couch. Time to go see how normal people interact.

A few minutes later, she stood at the entrance of Jack's penthouse, looking slightly perturbed as she took in Ross and Riley, already settled in, and Caitria, Alec, and Jensen making themselves comfortable. Already she was beginning to regret her decision to socialise. "Hello."


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Image"Fuck you both."

Faced with Wren's potty mouth and accusing finger, Jensen backed into the elevator, hands up in mock surrender, though her unrepentant grin said otherwise. "No need for that kind of language," she feigned disapproval, still laughing.

She shut up quick, letting Wren rant about the simulation, wincing in sympathy when Wren revealed her healing wounds. As someone possessing regenerative healing, Jensen understood all too well what a bitch it was to have to heal wounds, convenient as that power was.

"So, fuck you both." Wren's tirade ended the same way it began - with an expletive levelled at both Alec and Jensen.

"Very compelling argument, especially with the bookending. I just have one question, though - if we," and here she indicated Alec and herself, "didn't have to punch a truckload of simulated goons to get a fancy invitation, are we still invited to that gala?" Not that she minded it much, a fancy dress party sounded as good an excuse as any to have a bit of fun outside of training. Although, given the temperament that the Joneses were known for, maybe Mycroft had more than good reason to not want her hanging around people from the United Nations.

Jensen trailed behind Wren into Murdock's penthouse, leaning on a bar stool beside Ross. She smirked, noting the way his eyelids and head drooped in tandem. "Trade you a bit of bourbon for some of whatever Murdock's serving?" she offered, wiggling her hip flask of Wild Goose beside Ross's face. She took a bite out of her muffin, scattering crumbs on the floor, and held that out to him too, feeling uncharacteristically generous after everyone else had endured a simulation that she'd gotten to skip out on. "Not exactly a morning bird, are you?" She ignored the movement at the door that heralded Petra's arrival, not being familiar with the witch.


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ImageRiley stretched out on the floor, shoving the pillow under his head to cushion it as Ross lamented his lack of a date. Was it Riley's imagination, then, or did Ross look briefly regretful? Whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"You could go with meh? We'd be the sexiest couple there... I mean look at meh."

"Amen to that," Riley agreed, raising an arm as though he was making an invisible toast. "Everyone's going to be jealous of me. The girls will send me hate mail. The guys will slam me against lockers." He paused, considering the school's lack of lockers. "Mycroft will install lockers for the express purpose of letting guys slam me against them."

The door opened, and Riley rolled his eyes as high as they could go, trying to see who it was. Blonde hair, and a cool voice - no mistaking who that was. Caitria. Riley managed a sleepy smile in her direction, and closed his eyes again, pushing Jack's voice out of his head. It wasn't really much of his business who Ross invited here, as long as he got food and a nice place to rest his head.

Forceful footsteps jolted Riley out of his peaceful slumber, each step radiating across the floor and into his head. He groaned, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Hey, let a guy sleep in peace," he complained in Wren's general direction as she burst into the room, though for all the attention she paid him he might as well have been a fly buzzing around outside the window. Two more people followed behind her, and Riley raised a hand in greeting as he recognised Jensen and Alec.

"Watch the door for me, okay? And make sure Ross doesn't invite the Avengers next." Riley's eyes opened when Jack's voice sounded somewhere near his face - oh, food! He took the plate carefully from Jack, digging a fork into the plate's contents. "For this, I'll throw Ross off the roof if you wanted me to," he agreed. "Although you gotta admit it'd be cool to eat breakfast with Captain America, eh?" he called after Jack's departing back, before remembering that his father was one of the Avengers. "Oh wait, maybe not my dad... Yeah, okay, boss."

Still firmly planted on the floor, Riley began eating, keeping an eye on the door like Jack asked him to. When it opened again to reveal Petra Maximoff, of all people, he almost choked on his eggs, staring in disbelief. Petra? Answering Ross's breakfast invitation. Gosh.

"Oh, uh, hey!" He waved at her, smiling. "There's food there, you can - help yourself..." He trailed off, realising the disconcerted expression on her face, and got to his feet, careful not to tip his plate too far. "They're only interested in the food. Go on, grab a bite and sit down," he invited warmly.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Xavier Strange Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Jack Murdock Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Zachary Drake

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When Xavier is back in his own room, he changed his attires into something else that is more informal and suitable for socializing. While most of the time what he prefers are suits and professional choices of wardrobes, it doesn't mean that he is not up to something more fashionable and 'updated'. There's a lot for others to find out about this old man, after all, and it wouldn't be so interesting as to show them all in one go, isn't it? All the chatteries and fussing about how untrustworthy of an individual he is, but if people can truly read his thoughts, they would know that he much enjoys things to be that way.

Glancing at the invitation for the gala, Xavier couldn't helped mustering over what can possibly happen when it actually occurs. It is quite obvious that unlike some of the others, he was born for these kinds of events. This is a known fact even to the mentors that most of the infiltration missions they sent him to before are mostly to be an attendant of these refined activities. And as the saying goes, there is always a party crasher for any parties. It is not entirely a bad thing, in fact, for recently there hasn't been so many occasions where Xavier can stretch his muscles just a little bit more.

From: Speculum Scandinavian
Ey fuckers... Murdock's makin' food and we're bitchin' about ole cue ball's gala bull shite.

Xavier almost chuckled at the message he received from Ross, his all-time favorite drinking buddy. It seemed that others have already started having quite a bit of a get-together in Jack's place, so he figures he should be leaving before he miss all the amusing things that can be already happening there. Usually he would just pop in from thin air and make an entrance but he doesn't feel like doing the same thing twice today, so Xavier summoned a rather exquisite-looking bottle of wine before heading to the literal 'lair of the Devil' in a normal human way.



Disembarking the plane that had just arrived at Connecticut with his shades on, Zachary made his way to the parking lot of the airport where he left his car before he left for a trip to Xavier's Institution. He is invited there on behalf of his daddy, who once was a super famous X-Man and a former faculty of the school, to give lectures and teaches lessons for the newly recruited mutants in utilization of their gifts. Well, while a 32-year-old gal like him is still a student spending his days away at the prestigious Descendant Academy, Zachary still takes his pride in his career as a lecturer. So, he enjoys teaching and showing the kids of what wondrous things they can do. A good thing that afterwards he had managed to earn himself a small fanclub.

Speaking of lecturers, Zachary clearly saw the discontented look on Mycroft's face when he handed his leave of absence notice. He always knew the old man hated it when any of the students take a leave on his many 'precious' lessons, whether for an acceptable reason or not. Of course, he respected him and the other mentors for their abilities and experiences, but just like the others, Zachary found them to be a real hassle, or in a cruder way to put it, a pain in the ass. But having stayed there for the past 6 years, it's the least of things that he is already used to already. They are not the best of teachers in the world but, as a student under them and a fellow lecturer, Zachary acknowledges their efforts, nonetheless.

Striding his Rolls-Royce through the residential streets of Bridgeport, he kept himself low as he enters the suburb area where the Academy situated. Passing through all the security protocols and parking his car where it meant to be, Zachary just casually strolling his way up the escalator to his own room, hoping to have nice day off while planning what should he be doing for the day, until a message popped up in his phone.

From: Frankie Winnie
Hiya, Frosty. Nate and I are hanging out in my penthouse if you wanna join. Phoebe will showing up at some point. :)

Frankie is a good friend of Zachary. He pretty much considers her as a younger sister of sorts and is actually thinking about her, since he brought gifts back from his trip to Xavier's for a handful of people who are his friends and acquaintances, which included the daughter of Spidey. "They just had a practical session or something...?" He ponders over the probable reason why they are having a get-together. Seemed like he missed quite a bit during his absence too, which is actually a pity for someone who enjoys working like him. But at least he doesn't have to think over what he is going to do now, so he texted back.

To: Frankie Winnie
Sure thing, just returned from my trip too. I'll stop there in a bit. Got a present for you ;)

Upon returning to his penthouse, Zachary unpacked and got changing real quick, bringing with him the gifts for his friends before leaving for Frankie's place.



"Hey there, Xavie. Where ya heading to?" Zachary caught sight of the son of Dr. Strange on his way, who is also in his usual informal attires and was heading somewhere, rather than in his usual professional suits. For some reasons he doesn't know the man is walking rather than just teleporting like he does usually.

"Good morning, my dear Zach. It seemed that your trip to Xavier's Institute was uneventful." Xavier turned his head and greeted Zachary, a fellow descendant couple of years younger than him and one of the few friends he had, "I'm heading to the so-called Hell's Kitchen of Jack for breakfast, as I was invited earlier. Looks like a band had already gathered there though. Do you want to tag along?"

"Ah, that sounds good. Murdock's always been a dab hand in the kitchen. Though I'm heading to Frankie's place now, actually. A get-together is also happening there. Seems like everyone just in the mood to chill out, huh? Lemme guess, a practical session just took place this morning while everyone was still wandering in the dreamworld or tending to their owns?"

Xavier nodded, "A simulation session after a Hydra base. I thought we would be trifling with the beasts, but in the end it was not as much as striding through a field." He chuckled, "Still, it was a fun one. We had to recover what the mentors specifically noted as of great importance, but the prize is but merely a gala with all the big boys present that is about to take place in this very humble campus, soon."

"Well, I suppose we're both used to the not-so-surprising exercises already." Zachary grinned, "A pity though, I have always enjoyed simulations. But a gala though? This is too good of an opportunity for oppressors to wreck havoc. No altitudes of security could hope to absolutely prevent that. More so if the 'big boys' are going to be there as you say. Don't we all know that already?"

"That is exactly my thought, dearest Zach. But still, a gala is a gala, nonetheless. It's exactly where both of us are meant to be whereas others just didn't seem to be so enthusiastic. At least we can play tag and see to it while it lasts. I don't think my partner for the simulation earlier is up to it, so do I have the pleasure with you?"

"The pleasure is always mine, Xavie. Now I got another thing to think about." Zachary laughed, "And before I forgot. Here's the 'souvenir' for you. Took me a bit of effort and some persuasion but nothing too hard." He took out a small wooden box carved with sophisticated carvings and handed it to Xavier.

"Reliable as always, Zach. If there's any chances to return the favor, let me know." Xavier took the box from his fellow guardian with a nod, and transporting it to his reservoir. They are about to part ways, "I'll catch you up later before the event then."

"Later it is then, amigos."



Standing in front of Jack Murdock's penthouse, Xavier called out to inform others of his presence, "Hope everyone's okay in there, I'm coming in." Doesn't even bother to open the door, the scenery changed in a heartbeat and before anyone knows it, Xavier had already been sitting next to Ross. Gazing around, he saw that quite a handful of individuals are here.

Caitria, Jensen and Riley had already made themselves at home, while Jack and Wren are conversing privately, probably something others would be teasing about. Petra, though, is unexpected for someone who doesn't seem like much of a social animal. After acknowledging all of them, he placed the bottle he brought along on the counter and turned to Ross, "Romanee-Conti DRC 1990?" It's already a little bit over a week ago since they hang out to get drunk, so hopefully Ross wouldn't turn it down.

Meanwhile, Zachary had just also made it to Frankie's penthouse. Knocking on the door, he informed whoever inside of his presence, "Frankie, I'm coming in." He opened the door to the place and allowed himself in. Upon entering, he saw both Frankie and Nathaniel seemingly enjoying themselves. He is friends with Frankie but isn't particularly too close with the son of Bane, as he usually keeps to himself most of the time. But he also strikes him as someone who is not only a walking tower, but also a respectable genius as well. And it also occurs to Zachary that Nathaniel is seemingly what they would call 'a hunk with a heart of gold'.

"Glad to see you, little Spidey. Same to you, Nate. How's the simulation been for both of you? Too bad I miss it though." Zachary was quick to make himself comfortable as he approached the two. It was nice to have some moments to chill out before the grandeur, after all.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Xavier Strange Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Jack Murdock Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Zozo Zatara Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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Caitria raised an eyebrow at the silence that followed her arrival. Jack looked like he didn't have a clue what was going on or why the blonde just strutted into his penthouse. Suddenly, Caitria caught a flicker of realization on Murdock's face. "What did you do now, McCulloch?" he groaned. Ross probably invited the entire academy to Jack's penthouse, Caitria realized. How did Jack not predict that out of Ross McCulloch?

Caitria caught sight of a familiar ginger as Jack started a short little spiel. "This isn't IHop, Ross! You can't just expect me to prepare breakfast for the whole academy! I have no qualms with more guests, but you should've asked before-"

Caitria winced as Wren spoke up, which resulted with Jack slamming into refrigerator. He quickly attempted to gather his composure. "Heyyyyy..." Caitria realized what was happening, praying that this would work out for Murdock and hopefully, he would have his ass brutally rejected.

Caitria snatched up one of the eggs benedict, spearing her fork through the egg and English muffin. The blonde heard the door open as someone new arrived. She turned around, stealing a glance at the newcomer. Caitria wasn't going to lie, she was definitely surprised when she saw Petra walk into the penthouse next. "Hey, Petra," she greeted. Caitria thought it was a bit awkward; she and Petra didn't talk to each other much.
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"Yeah, that sounds like an understatement," Ulrich agreed.

There was a short moment of silence before Ulrich brought up a topic that Andrew, in all honesty, was expecting. "So this beast form of yours...is it insatiable for blood and destruction? I don't know much about this other form of yours. I kind of only have myths to go off so sorry if it seems...." Ulrich paused for a moment, "...intrusive? And is it really true there's no way to call you back? That once this other thing takes over, Andrew as we know him is gone?"

Andrew sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's a bit difficult to explain," Andrew told the other man, "but I can try. I can't blame you for being curious.

"My father is Patrick Mulligan, but at the same time, my father is Toxin. Patrick Mulligan and Toxin are two different beings, but that does not mean I have two fathers; I only have one. Patrick Mulligan is a host for Toxin, but since both are my one father, it doesn't work like that for me. My body isn't a host for another being. When my beast form is triggered, I'm not in the right mind, but I'm still Andrew Mulligan. Unfortunately, I can't control myself when my beast form is activated. I've always wanted to learn how to control it, but that takes trial and error, and that process...well, I'm not going to lie, it does kind of freak me out. I have to trigger my beast form with absolutely no control over it, in order to train for having control over my beast form."
Andrew laughed. "That's a big contradiction."

Ulrich stayed silent for a couple seconds before changing the topic. "So what's on your agenda? Are you going to Jack's breakfast thing? I think he's having an open breakfast club thing. I'll go if you go. But if you don't go, I might look like less of a pretentious jerk." Ulrich flashed a smile.

Andrew chuckled. "You bet I'm gonna go," he said. "I have a feeling that McCulloch invited everybody to Jack's place without him knowing. It's too late to take that message back, though. Half the academy is probably already flocking to Murdock's penthouse as we speak."
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"And me," Thaleia furrowed her brows with displeasure at Zoltar Zatara's energetic smile. "Good evening-morning Thaleia."

"It's just morning," Thaleia deadpanned. She disdainfully watched Zozo clear the liquid out of his waterlogged phone with a spell, a faint scowl on her lips. She wasn't too fond of people who constantly used their magic or superpowers; Thaleia felt that it made them either lazy, flippant, or both. Thaleia nursed her beer as Zozo checked his device.

"OH MY GOD WHAT THERE'S A PARTY AT MURDOCK'S!" Thaleia cringed at the volume. "What else happened while I was asleep? Why is everyone up so goddamn early this morning?"

Thaleia raised an eyebrow, scoffing slightly. How could Zozo not know what happened?

Just as Thaleia thought that, realization flickered over Zatara's face. "Wait. Don't tell me," he slapped his forehead. "There was a simulation wasn't there? And I missed it..." the brunette man groaned, sinking beneath the water.

Thaleia took a swig of her beer before staring down at where wisps of Zozo's brown hair floated to the surface of the pool. "How could you not know about the simulation?" she commented dryly. "JARVIS was the messenger...and you know. Computer systems."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Xavier Strange Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Jack Murdock Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Zozo Zatara Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Zachary Drake

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xxW R E N00W I L S O N
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xxxxxxxxxxd i a l o g u e x//x #BB141E


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"Very compelling argument, especially with the bookending. I just have one question, though - if we," Jensen said motioning to herself and Alex. "didn't have to punch a truckload of simulated goons to get a fancy invitation, are we still invited to that gala?"

Wren shrugged her shoulders. "I don't see why not... Mycroft seems to get personal enjoyment out of torturing us. Only makes sense that he'd force you all to go to. I think it was just a sick fucking joke that he made that our reward for finishing the simulation." She scratched her head with a sigh. "I mean, do you really wanna risk baldy's wrath?"

***

"Hey, that doesn't come cheap, y'know. Save some for the rest of us, Wrenpool..."

"Oh, please. I'll go kill a pig for you if it's that big of a deal." Wren laughed softly towards him while taking another bite of bacon. Jack's eyes remained on her as he took a bite of her stolen bacon.

"Damn, I'm a good cook...Anyways, yes. I know you're all right. You've made that apparent many times now..." Jack replied in response to her comment about being fine. Yes, she might have said this numerous times now, but she never some someone so worried about her. She has a healing factor... Healing. She remained seated on the counter, watching Jack as he prepared the food her cooked, her teddy bear slippers swinging back and forth. Wren's gaze drifted over towards the growing mass inside Murdock's penthouse.

Her attention was drawn back to Jack when he talked towards her yet again. "...But that's not what I wanted to ask you. Mind if we talk in private? Far from this madding crowd..."

Wren's brows furrowed as she pursed her lips. "...Ok?" She pushed off the counter, hopping down to the ground. She waited by the end of the counter, staring down at her hands as Jack brought food to Riley.

Wren made a funny face towards Jensen and Alec as Jack led her down the dark hallway, away from the rest of the crowd. When they came to a stop outside his bedroom, she glanced over his shoulder towards his room. "You know, I'm not one for morals... But, maybe our first time shouldn't be while you have a bunch of guests... I'm a bit of a screamer," she whispered with a teasing, yet seductive tone and eyebrow wiggle.

Her more playful manner slowly faded when Jack's tone was more serious as he began talking. "So uh...I really enjoyed working with you. You saved my ass today and I'm grateful for that." Jack looked over his shoulder towards the crowd, like he was checking to make sure no one was eaves dropping. "I'd really like for us to hang out again and so I was wondering...do you want to go to the dance with me tomorrow?"

"It's a gala—" Wren froze mid sentence, mouth a gape when she realized what exactly he asked her. She raised her hand up to brush back loose hairs from her face as she tried to find the words. It wasn't often that people actually made her speechless, if even for a moment.

"Horns... I'm basically a walking shield. It would have been stupid, dumb... And well... Yeah, dumb if I didn't protect you from the grenade I threw. It only makes sense, I'm bulletproof. You're not..." Wren's voice trailed off. Jack's invitation seemed like it was because she saved his life that he invited her. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. But she didn't want pity, especially from him. Wren had no clue what their flirtations meant, but something in her stomach knotted... She wanted the invitation to be genuine but was scared it wasn't. Before she could fight it, her shields started going up.

"The whole gala thing is to prove to the U.N. that we are good people and don't deserve a leash... but, Jack I'm not a good person." She shrugged her shoulders before leaning back on the wall opposite of him. "By dictionary definition I'm a bigger villain than Mirror wizard... Has he ever killed anyone? I have... I've done more illegal things than the metal whisperer and gentle venom giant combined."

After a long pause, Wren sighed. "I'm the exact type of person that needs a leash like Thaddeus Ross wants to put on us..." Her gaze drifted up to meet his. "Jack you're a good person... Son of a hero with a moral compass that could rival the man of steel. You should go to the gala with someone who will make the academy and yourself look good. Not a trigger happy basket case."

Although Wren's words were genuine... more genuine than she usually is, her heart beat and sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach made her wonder if she said the right thing. It wasn't often that she actually vocalized what she is. She is the daughter of Wade Wilson, in all forms of the word. The academy is the only reason she hasn't been arrested. The one thing she hated more, was that fucking bat ears over there could probably see right through her facade just based on her heart beat and breathing... He made lying and emotions so complicated.



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xxT O B I A S00L E H N S H E R R
xxxxxxxxxxp a r e n t a g e x//x magneto
xxxxxxxxxxa t t i r e x//x outfit
xxxxxxxxxxd i a l o g u e x//x #57428c


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Tobias glanced over towards the pool, taking a drink of his beer. His gaze met Zozo's just before the brunette screamed...
Loudly. "AAAAHHHHH!!!" He snorted as he swallowed his drink, watching Oz splash around like a cat in a bath tub. "FUCK! FUCK THAT'S COLD! TOBY, YOU COULD'VE MADE YOUR PRESENCE KNOWN IN A LESS TRAUMATIC WAY! NOW I'M FUCKING DROWNING LOOK WHAT YOU'VE-"

As Zozo made his way up to the surface of the water Tobias finished his drink. His gaze drifted sideways, noticing the pair of sunglasses that settled themselves at the bottom of the deep end. With a wave of his left index and middle finger, the glasses rose up through the water, and rested themselves on the ground beside their owner. "Just kidding. I've been swimming since the diaper days."

"You've always had a flare for the dramatics," Tobias said as he leaned back in the lawn chair.

"Okay. So I know what you're thinking..." Tobias looked over at Zozo, crossing his arms behind his head, listening to what was going to be a speech... Or something along those lines.

"I can see the question hidden behind those icy blue eyes, and I'll admit the answer is embarrassing. I was practicing spell-casting...while underwater." Oz's gaze drifted up to the sky while Tobias' brows furrowed. "Like I wanted to see if it would work. But every time I said something it came out like hbluhbluhbluh because y'know...I was underwater. You can't pronounce backwards words correctly with H2O flowing in your mouthhole..."

Tobias sat up, letting his legs all to either side of elongated seat of the lounge chair. His elbows rested on his knees, scratching the back of his head with his right hand. "You can't say anything underwater, Oz."

"I think the more delicious question is, what are you, Toby the Hermit, doing on the rooftop during the wee hours of the morning?"

A very feint flick of a smile tugged at the corner of Tobias' mouth at 'Toby the Hermit'. "You know I don't like socializing... or people."

"Something wicked this way walks."

Tobias glanced back over his shoulder in time to make eye contact with Thaleia. "Oh, it's you."

"I was here first," he replied as deadpanned as she did.

"And me!" Zozo grinned. "Good evening-morning Thaleia."

"It's just morning." Tobias kind of sided with Oz on that one. It didn't feel like morning. Technicalities didn't help it.

He watched as the swimmer dried out his soaked phone. The second that it was dry it vibrated in Zozo's hand. "OH MY GOD WHAT THERE'S A PARTY AT MURDOCK'S!" Tobias reached into his pocket, pulling out his own phone, illuminating the screen. To no surprise there was no message in his own phone. Not that it mattered, he probably wouldn't go anyways. But sometimes he couldn't help but wish he was more included... Who was he kidding, with a father like his.

Zozo's voice quickly snapped him out of his own mind. "What else happened while I was asleep? Why is everyone up so goddamn early this morning?" Tobias parted his lips to answer but was cut off by Zozo's own realization. "Wait. Don't tell me." Facepalm. "There was a simulation wasn't there? And I missed it..."

Tobias watched as Zozo sunk back down into the pool. His gaze then shifted over to Thaleia's less that pleasing tone. "How could you not know about the simulation? JARVIS was the messenger...and you know. Computer systems."

"You didn't miss anything Oz... Besides a gala. Mycroft wants us all to put on happy faces and prove we don't need laws and leashes." Tobias stood up and walked back over to the bar, grabbing another beer. Without a sideways glance, the bottle cap popped off and he caught it in his free hand. "Oh, did I say 'us'... I'm not invited." He took a long drink from the bottle, then leaned his elbows against the bar.

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Frankie looked towards her door when she heard a knock. "Frankie, I'm coming in."

She moved to her tippy toes, grabbing a third coffee cup. Frankie glanced over her shoulder towards Zach with a soft smile. "Hey! You're back!" She grabbed the fresh pot of coffee and proceeded to pour the three of them a fresh cup. "Cream is in the fridge... And sugar..." She walked over to the island, grabbing the sugar cup. "Is right here." Frankie smiled to them both as she started scooping sugar into her cup.

"Glad to see you, little Spidey. Same to you, Nate. How's the simulation been for both of you? Too bad I miss it though."

Frankie leaned back against the counter, blowing on her coffee before taking a sip. Her gaze drifted towards Nate then back to Zach. "Good. It was a hydra base... Proud to say we got through it without setting off the alarm. That's easy for people like Xavier or Caitria... But we still did it, the hard way." She tapped her fingers against her coffee mug.

"Oh, and there's a gala tomorrow... Er, tonight?" Her brows furrowed as she looked towards Nate for clarification. "Mycroft had J.A.R.V.I.S. wake us up at like 3 a.m. for the simulation." She yawned, raising a hand to scratch the back of her head. "My times are all messed up now." She smiled sheepishly. "But, apparently Thaddeus Ross and a bunch of U.N. people will be here... They want to control us like they tried with the Avengers. So, apparently we need to prove why we don't need that."

Frankie waved it off like a fly. She didn't want to think about the gala and the stress of impressing them all. "Anyways, how was your flight?"



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"It's gonna snow pink. You're actually going stag, Ross? I don't believe that for a second."

Ross made a mocking face towards Jack, but it was interrupted by a yawn. He chuckled at Jack's obvious disgust at the suggestion of Ross going with Riley. He glanced back over towards his friend who seemed more than happy with the arrangement. "Amen to that," he said making an invisible toast. "Everyone's going to be jealous of me. The girls will send me hate mail. The guys will slam me against lockers... Mycroft will install lockers for the express purpose of letting guys slam me against them."

"Aye'll kick their arses if they do," Ross said with a wink towards Riley.

Ross' head turned towards the door when there was a knock. "I'm letting myself in." Then the door opened and in came Caitria. "Hope you're all decent."

"Was eh supposed to be... not decent?" Ross patted his clothes teasingly like he should have been caught half naked or something.

"What did you do now, McCulloch?"

Ross put on his innocent Puss in Boots face as he turned to face Jack. "Who? Meh? Eh did nothin'..." He put his hands up innocently.

"This isn't IHop, Ross! You can't just expect me to prepare breakfast for the whole academy! I have no qualms with more guests, but you should've asked before-" Jack's rant was cut off when a talkative red head came through the door, bringing along her equally unique friends. He couldn't help but snort back a laugh as Jack knocks magnets off his fridge. The boy should get his crush tattooed on his forehead... It's that obvious.

Ross glanced over just in time to see Jensen lean against the bar stool beside him. He nodded his head towards her while he yawned, unable to audibly say hello. "Trade you a bit of bourbon for some of whatever Murdock's serving?"

He didn't hesitate to take a nice long swing from the flask Jensen offered. He shook off a shiver as he spun the cap back on. When she offered her muffin towards him, Ross took it from her. "Not exactly a morning bird, are you?"

"You should try wakin' up at 3 in da mornin' fer a simulation... Fuckin' sucks." Ross took a large bite out of the muffin before handing it back to Jensen. He nearly choked on the bite of bread when he saw Petra walk through the door. Out of everyone he texted, he didn't expect her to join them. He smiled towards her with crumbs on his mouth. "Red, hey." He waved his hand towards her. Without a moments hesitation, he stumbled off the bar stool he sat on offering it to her seeing as how the seating around the penthouse was quickly being filled up. "You can have meh seat."

In the blink of an eye Xavier was seated beside Ross, causing the Scot to nearly get dizzy from whiplash. Man was he too tired for this. Strange set on a bottle on the counter in front of him. Ross blinked back sleepiness from his eyes as he tried to focus on the label. "Romanee-Conti DRC 1990?"

Ross rubbed his eyes, fighting a yawn. "Will et wake meh up?" He smirked sheepishly. His gaze then shifted to Petra. "Wanna glass, Red?" Then looked towards Jensen. "Jones?"

x


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Xavier Strange Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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#, as written by barnes
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Image"Hey!"

Petra glanced around and caught Riley waving at her. She raised a hand and let it hover at shoulder height for a couple seconds before dropping it, feeling a little better now that there was a friendly face around. "Hi, Riley. I thought I might come join the party," she said as he got to his feet, as though her actions needed explaining.

"Go on, grab a bite and sit down." He pointed towards the rest, guiding her towards the food. "I can help myself, don't worry - "

She might have been content to grab a plate of food and disappear, but then she came face to face with Caitria, and she couldn't ignore a greeting. "Hi, Caitria. You're here too," she observed, attempting a smile. "Great job on finishing the simulation so quickly." She cast her eyes around and spotted Ross - more familiar to her than Caitria - and edged around the blonde, hoping to escape an awkward conversation. "Well, see you around. Excuse me."

"Ross," she greeted, hiding a smile at the crumbs around his mouth. "Thanks for the invitation, I thought I'd just...come and see the rest. It gets a little lonely up in the tower." She accepted the seat, seating herself next to Jensen. "Jensen, hi." Normally she wouldn't associate herself with Jensen, but she figured, since I'm here to socialise I should well carry through with it. Even if Jensen clearly wasn't too enthusiastic about having to interact with her. She might as well have made a poster and waved it in Petra's face, her discomfort was that obvious.

So when Xavier, of all people, popped up, she resolved to be pleasant, though her relationship with the other magic user wasn't all roses - goodness knows he was a little too pompous for her. "Xavier, it's good to see you." She nodded at him, her eyes crinkling a little as she managed a smile.

Turning away, she scanned the counter for food, and grabbed an English muffin off a nearby plate, turning her head back to Ross when she heard his question. "Wanna glass, Red?"

"...Sure. Just a little, please."


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ImageJensen chuckled quietly at Ross's quip. "Well, you try chasing ninjas through New York City for a week, huh?" she responded, hopping onto the stool and leaning back against the counter. "Though I suppose only Murdock over there might understand... I can't be the only one the Defenders thought might be good to call back every now and then."

This last remark was lost on Ross, however, whose attention was gone by the time she finished her sentence. Jensen followed his line of sight through the people clustered around them, to...Petra Maximoff. "Red, hey." Jensen almost rolled her eyes. McCulloch's eyes were almost boggling out of his head. Just because Maximoff was some ice queen... although Jensen did have to admit that Petra was very good looking. Enough that Jensen might be compelled to find out more about her in order to get close to her, if her reputation as the scarlet bitch didn't precede her.

"Jensen, hi." It took some effort not to visibly tense up, but Jensen smiled lazily and waved her muffin at the redheaded girl. "Petra. It's rare to see you out and about," she responded, ignoring the way Petra's expression faltered a little. Probably her telepathy telling her something that she didn't like so much. Well, she could join the club of people whose opinion Jensen didn't care about.

And then Strange appeared, waving a bottle of expensive alcohol, no doubt. Jensen checked her mental notes about him, noting that he seemed to have a great deal of money and was pretty powerful, but despite his friends did not seem to have much information public about himself. Definitely someone Jensen might need in future.

So she waved at Strange, raising her flask in a mock toast to Ross's offer of whatever it was Strange had brought. "I'm never in a position to turn down alcohol, especially not when someone is offering it. As long as Xavier is amenable?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Xavier Strange Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Jack Murdock Character Portrait: Phoebe Prince Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Zozo Zatara Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Zachary Drake Character Portrait: Jimmy Storm Character Portrait: Mia Cage

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#, as written by mjolnir
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T I M E x J U M P x T O x B E F O R E x T H E x G A L A . . .



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wren wilson
deadpoolx|xoutfitx|x#BB141E

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It suffices to say, that Wren wasn't expecting Jack to take what she said so literally. Well, that's what she gets for putting her foot in her big ass mouth. Whatever. Maybe there was some truth in her words. She wasn't the type of person a 'better' hero should be going with. Hell, she's probably one of the people on Thaddeus Ross' list of supes to keep an eye on.

"Maybe I shouldn't go?" Wren muttered to herself as she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her torso.

"Ms. Wilson, may I remind you that the mentors expect everyone's presence tonight," J.A.R.V.I.S. interjected in his usual creepy computer way.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Wren took a second towel, ruffling as much water out of her hair as possible. She wrapped the towel around her head, and began to brush her teeth. With a mouth full of tooth paste, she continued to complain to herself, trying to figure out a way to get of this damn gala. It's safe to say, she came to no such conclusion.

She spit into the sink with a disgusted groan. "Fuck."

Wren walked back to her bedroom, snatching up her cell phone from her bed. She stood there, staring at the blank screen way longer than what would have been necessary. It was in that moment that Wren truly realized how small her circle of friends was. She raised her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose as she took a deep breath, laughing weakly.

After composing herself, she swiped through her contacts.

Compose text message to : Speedy Gonzales
"You've just been promoted to my date. The color is red if we wanna be total lesbos and dress to match. Be there in 30."

Wren chucked her phone on her bed, before heading back to her bathroom. Being as low maintenance as Wren was, she didn't feel the need to do anything extravagant with her hair and makeup. Plus, it's not like she knew how to do anything fancy anyways. It wasn't like she was going to this Gala to find a husband or something. The mentors were lucky that she was trying to make a decent enough impression. That was enough.

With her hair in some semblance of an updo, Wren made her way to her closet. She made sure she had an evening gown in case the occasion was called for... Or, she felt like the need to be way over the top for no apparent reason. "I guess I should dress like a somewhat sophisticated female," Wren groaned, pulling the dress off the hanger. It took her twice as long as it did to do her hair, just to get into the damned dress. The worst part of it was the giraffe shoes. She'd be lucky if she didn't fall at least once throughout the evening.

She was about to head out of her penthouse, but stopped mid step. Wren felt... naked. She hurried back over to her weapons closet. It took her awhile to find the sleek silhouette thigh gun holster. She never had a need for concealed carry. Everyone knew Wren was more of a loud and proud, wave my guns in your face, type. But, this would do.

Wren velcroed the holster around her upper thigh. As she grabbed the small pistol and started holstering it, J.A.R.V.I.S. chimed in, "Apologies Ms. Wilson, but the mentors have instructed a strict 'no weapons' policy for the entirety of the Gala."

Wren groaned, slamming the gun on the table in front of her, then ripped the holster off. "We can't just trust everyone who walks through the doors to not try something, J.A.R.V.I.S. We're going to have every U.N. official, Thaddeus Ross, and a majority of superhuman forces in the same building at once. That's a fucking jackpot."

"I believe the mentors see all the academy members as weapons in themselves. They have the utmost confidence in all the students' abilities to defend the academy and everyone in it."

Wren snorted, pivoting on her heels and walking towards her door. "No they don't, J.A.R.V.I.S. They don't trust us." With that, she exited her apartment, slamming the door behind her.

She made her way down towards the elevator. It took Wren a couple strides to get the hand of the long hem, and large slit in her dress. She occasionally got her heel clipped on the train of her gown. She sighed as she pressed the button for the elevator, adjusting the skirt. "Get your shit together, Wren. It's just a fucking dress."

Wren took the elevator to Caitria's floor, seeming to finally have a handle of her gown as she walked down the hallway. She gave a knock on the door, before calling out to her friend. "Your knight in plush velvet gown is here. Ready to break hearts and be bored out of our minds?"




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tobias lehnsherr
magnetox|xoutfitx|x#57428C

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"I was officially uninvited... Mycroft made that pretty clear," Tobias said into his phone as he stood in front of a floor to ceiling window that looked out over the bay. His left arm was stretched over his head, forearm pressed against the cool glass.

"Tobias," Mystique said on the other end of the call. "That's discrimination. They can't exclude you because of your father.

"Mom, they already have. They do it all the time. Sometimes I just want to be the monster they see... It'd be easier that way."

"You can't think that way... Toby, you have a kind heart. I just wish other people could see that."

Tobias looked down, scratching at his bare abdomen with a sigh. He softly tapped his foot on the ground, but didn't know what to say in response. He knew Mystique was trying to make him feel better, but days like that day... It was harder to believe that he was so different from his father.

"Tobias?"

"...I'm here."

Mystique sighed. "Honey, I think you should go with Petra, like she offered. If you were like your father, you wouldn't be so upset about not being invited. Go to the Gala, and show everyone... Including that dumbass Mycroft why you are part of the academy. Show them your—"

Mystique was cut off. Shuffling and mumbling could be heard on the other side of the line. "Mystique?... Mom?"

"Mom? She didn't bear you."

Tobias instantly felt a pit grow in his stomach. A clammy sensation began to cover his palms as he clenched his fists. "Oh, it's you."

"Now, is that anyway to greet your father?" Tobias didn't reply. "Well, if you ask my opinion... I agree with Mystique."

"What are you talking about?"

"Go to this gala... Show them that you are this golden boy. Nothing like your wretched father."

Tobais' brows furrowed, nostrils flared. What in the hell was he talking about? There was always an ulterior motive with Magneto. But it was just a mask. A facade, that he was using to guilt trip Tobias, or use reverse psychology on him.

"That is what you want after all..." Then, as if flipping a switch Erik's voice changed back to the monster Tobias was all too familiar with. "Tobias, you are not in line to be in the Avengers, X-men or Justice League. They don't want you. No one does... No one, but me. The Brotherhood is your home. And you will be part of this family, and perform your role spectacularly. Or, so help me."

Tobias pushed off the window, and began pacing around his room. "You will listen to me son, and listen well. I'm tired of hearing you complain to Mystique with your struggles like your some teenager in High School. You will do what you were sent there to do and that is that. Cross me and I'll send you Raven's head in a box. Do you hear me boy?"

His hands were shaking. The rattling of metal around him rang in his ears. He clenched his jaw, inhaling sharply. "Tobias Lehn—"

"I got it!" Tobias hissed.

"Oh you do? Prove it." Tobias' heart skipped a beat. No, not this. Anything but this. "I want you to kill Thaddeus Ross. You have until midnight, or you'll never hear from Mystique again."

Click. The line went dead. Tobias closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them, his phone was in pieces in his palm. He turned to face his apartment, sighing when everything was in disarray. He brought his hand up to rub his temples. Magneto made Tobias' blood boil. He knew exactly how to manipulate him to do whatever he wanted. He refused to kill Thaddeus. Doing something like that would ruin everything the academy has worked so hard for. But if he didn't... He'd kill Mystique.

Tobias wanted nothing more to be able to talk to someone... Maybe, Petra. But at the academy the walls have ears, or J.A.R.V.I.S. He'd be lucky if the computer didn't hack and record his phone call. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, worse than he had been since he arrived at the academy. He slammed his hand into the wall, letting his gaze fall the small table in front of him. Sitting perfectly center, untouched by his temper infused wage, was a corsage.

He stared at it for a long moment. "Fuck it." Tobias stormed off towards his room, changing into the tuxedo he had laid out. He checked his appearance in the mirror, scooped up the corsage and headed out the door. He checked his watch as he took the stairs down a few flights until he reached Petra's floor. What in the hell was he doing? It was like that day, he was destined to piss every single person off... Aside from Petra. He'd figure the rest out later.

When he reached her door, he gave it a gentle knock. Then waited patiently. Once the door opened, Tobias held out the corsage, giving a slight smile. "I uh... Didn't know what color you'd wear, so I figured white would work." He held out his free hand for a moment, before slowly taking her right hand. He took the Calla Lily corsage out of the box and placed it on her wrist. "I also have a weird question... Can I borrow your phone?"

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frankie parker
spidermanx|xoutfitx|x#FF0057

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Frankie had been dressed and ready to go for awhile. Unlike some of the other students at the academy, she had been trying to strategize how to make the best impression on Thaddeus Ross. This was an important evening. It could set their future for the rest of their lives. Although she understands the need for control, it wouldn't work. Heroes... Vigilantes... They have to work above the law. It's a flawed system but any other way wouldn't work.

Look at the police, FBI, CIA... They all work under laws and rules, and they can't do everything that needs to be done. That's where we come in. We handle what can't be handle by anyone else. But, the second we're on a leash, out power goes away. Of course, Frankie couldn't say that to them. It'd make her look reckless and against the law.

It's a fine line to walk. In the end, Frankie decided she should just... Be herself. Just show that she is a good person, and hope that is enough. What else could she do? One wrong word or opinion and that could tie the noose.

"Ms. Parker?" The computer's voice snapped her out of her own thoughts.

"Yes, J.A.R.V.I.S.?"

"The mentors have requested that you be present when our guests arrive."

Frankie's brows furrowed, and the nerves finally hit their full level. "Wait... What? I thought they wanted us to arrive afterwards... And—" She could hear the anxiousness in her voice.

"I believe they think it'd be beneficial to have someone like you there to great them."

"A hero descendant..." she mumbled softly under her breath.

"Not necessarily. I believe it is because you make a good first impression."

"When will they be arriving?"

"Within the next 10 minutes."

Frankie inhaled sharply, moving to her feet. She lifted up the hem of her dress, stepping into her heels. She went to grab her web shooters and froze with her hand over them. What kind message would that send? Going to a Gala, but still armed. It shows distrust or a dependency on her powers. No. She has to be normal, like everyone else... Just for the night. She snatched up her clutch purse, and headed towards the elevator.

Once she began a descent, Frankie whipped out her phone to send a quick text.

Compose a text to : Riley
"Mentors asked me to be there when Thaddeus Ross arrives. Wish me luck? You better be going. I'll need someone to save me from my nervous break down... And a dance partner :)"

She took a deep breath, slipping her phone back into her bag. Frankie's heart skipped a beat when the elevator came to a stop. When it opened she was greeted by Alfred. Thank god.

"Well don't you look just lovely Ms. Parker," he said offering her his arm like a gentleman. Frankie smiled nervously, taking his arm like it was her life line. "Nothing to worry about." He patted her hand gently. She couldn't be more happy that it was him versus Mycroft or Phil that was there waiting for her. "We thought you would be a good first impression for the U.N. officials. What better way to break the ice than with one of our kindest and most friendly pupils?"

Frankie's smile grew as Alfred's words helped fade away some of her nerves. He led her towards the main entrance of the Descendant Tower where Phil and Mycroft waited with the founders. "Mr. Wayne," she said, approaching Bruce Wayne, extending her right hand to shake his. "Mr. Stark." She greeted Tony Stark the same. "I didn't know you both would be attending."

"We'd be bad hosts not to be at our own Gala," replied Mr. Wayne with a smile.

"I just came to see if Thaddeus is still on hold from the last time he tried to call me," Tony laughed looking over at a slightly aggravated Bruce.

Frankie looked forward when she saw headlights approaching. "Are you sure I shouldn't just... Arrive with the others?"

"Nonsense," Tony replied, taking her arm from Alfred. "If you're anything like your dad, which I heard you are, you'll make a star impression... As long as you don't talk as much as he does."

Frankie laughed nervously. "I'll try not to."

"Tony, you're not helping," Pepper Potts chimed in as she joined the group on the other side of Mr. Stark. "Don't listen to him. I don't." She gave a Frankie a warm smile.

Numerous limos came down the long drive towards the tower. The first one coming to a halt at the curb in front of them. Alfred stepped forward, opening the door and out stepped Thaddeus Ross himself. He made his way through the mentors, greeting each of them like old friends until he came to a stop in front of her. Frankie smiled up at him, extending her right hand. "Hello Mr. Ross, I'm Fran—"

"Frankie Parker." He smiled, shaking her hand in greeting. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Hopefully, all good things."

Thaddeus laughed at her comment, following her inside. "You have my word, Ms. Parker." They made their way down the large hall towards the ballroom where soft orchestral music could be heard. Once entering the large room it was almost like entering a large winter wonderland. Glistening lights hung from the ceiling and dangled down the walls. A few dozen tables lit by candles sat on one side of the large room near extravagant tables of food and drinks. Then the center had a large opening, presumably for dancing. And the other end had the orchestra playing Mozart.

Frankie was shocked. Gala was an appropriate word to describe this. It was the nicest thing she had ever been to. More sophisticated than half of the people that went to the academy. She just hoped they all lived up to the standards that were being set. She looked over towards Thaddeus. "Would you like something to drink, sir?"

Thaddeus smiled. "Yes, thank you. How about a scotch."

Frankie nodded her head with a friendly smile and made her way to the bar. Oh lord, there's alcohol. Dear god, she hopes no one gets drunk. No better way to show they aren't qualified than a bunch of drunken enhanced humans acting like morons.




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ross mcculloch
mirror masterx|xoutfitx|x#FF8D34

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"Alright," Ross said to himself as he walked into the bathroom wearing only his suit pants, suspenders hanging off his hips. He stopped to look at himself in the mirror. Ross couldn't remember the last time he had to make himself look presentable... If ever. But, he was a descendant of a villain. That puts a sizable target on him. So, he most definitely has to be on his best behavior and look his best.

Plus, Petra would be there. Ross instantly shook his head, trying to push that thought away. "Yer not goin' to da Gala to impress ole finger wiggles. Yer goin' ta prove we don' need... Whater dat Ross fella be offerin'." He combed his hair back, before putting a little gel in his palms. He rubbed his hands together and froze as he slid his fingers back in his hair. He couldn't help but think about how pretty she'd probably look.

"Alright, alright." He held up his hands like he was arguing with himself. "Maybeh... Just one dance. That ner hurt anyone." Ross nodded his head in approval as he walked back to his room, putting on his button up shirt. He buttoned it up, before tucking the hem into his pants. He draped his necktie across his shoulders and slid the straps of his suspenders on as he walked back to the bathroom.

"Plus, it's not like she'd actually dance with meh," he said to himself as he tried to tie his neck tie. He groaned in frustration when he messed up for the third time. "Because I can't even fackin' tie a damn tie." He tried a couple more times, before deciding that his pride wasn't worth it. He grabbed his cellphone and watched a dumb tutorial online so that he got it just right.

He looked down at his phone once he finished, tempted to text and ask her if Tobias was going with her or not. Show up like a knight in... Well, nothing. He's not a knight. Who's he kidding. He took his phone and slid it into his pocket. Ross then walked back out to his room. He put on his vest, then green tuxedo jacket on top of it. He adjusted himself in the mirror one last time, making sure he looked as good as he could possibly manage. Even though he felt ridiculous, he at least looked like a civilized human being.

On his way out of his penthouse, he stopped when he saw his table of compact mirrors. Ross had a feeling in his gut that if he didn't take one, he'd regret it. Unlike most of the other descendants, their weapons are.... well weapons. But one compact mirror? Who would think twice about it? And it would be hidden in his pocket the entire night. He reached down, picking it up. Ross flipped it open, and slid his hand through the mirror to make sure it was active. He then closed it and slipped it into his breast pocket.

He made his way up to Riley's room in a timely manner and knocked on the door. Ross slid his hands into his pockets as he waited. "Aye, I need meh hot date ey was promised. Ya can't leave meh hangin', Barton." He leaned his right shoulder against the door frame as he waited. He pulled his phone once more from his pocket, flicked on the screen and nothing. He sighed. No surprise there.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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#, as written by barnes
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Image Image ImagexxxxxxR I L E Y x B A R T O N x x #7a378b xx outfit x




ImageRiley rubbed his thumb over the fabric of his jacket for what must have been the twentieth time that night, fussing with the fabric. Though the suit was tailored - thank goodness for the one time his father flipped out and insisted he needed a formal set of clothes - he felt distinctly uncomfortable in it, as though it was tailored with a very different man in mind.

Well, what was he thinking? The Bartons weren't fancy men. They didn't go to galas and speak politely to military officials and members of the United Nations. The Barton men crawled through grass and snow and did backflips off rooftops, occasionally breaking limbs but always popping back up like a bad penny. If only he had been born a Stark, or a Wayne, then the story might be vastly different.

For all his doubts, Riley had to admit that he looked good. Standing in front of the mirror, his hair tamed with product and his jaw clean shaven for once, he cut a good figure. Not like he was doing it for anyone, not even Mycroft, but it felt nice to dress up and be fancy. It wasn't like he could shake off the title of the archer's son, no matter how sharp his suit was cut. But he could have a good time tonight.

Twitching his tie into place, Riley turned his face this way and that, checking his jaw for any missed stubble. Having found none, he headed out into the main area of his penthouse, looking around. His hands felt weirdly empty, hanging loose by his sides instead of curled around a bow. And he wasn't planning on being kicked out of the gala for attempting to bring weapons in.

As if reading his thoughts, or maybe just the twitching of his fingers, J.A.R.V.I.S. piped up. "Mr. Barton, tonight is just an event for the attendees to understand the Academy better through interacting with its students. The mentors trust that, should anything go wrong, you will be able to defend yourselves and the other attendees. There is no need to feel uneasy or threatened."

"I'm sure, J.A.R.V.I.S. Thanks for the vote of confidence." Artificial intelligence or not, it was comforting, even if it did mean that he was very easily read. Or perhaps students all over the Tower were being offered the same words of comfort, knowing how heavily some of them relied on their weapons' presence at all times.

Lying on the couch, his phone pinged and the screen lit up with a text.

From: FrankenSpider
Mentors asked me to be there when Thaddeus Ross arrives. Wish me luck? You better be going. I'll need someone to save me from my nervous break down... And a dance partner :)


To: FrankenSpider
Knock them DEAD! You got this one Parker. I'll see you later you can fight with Ross over who gets to take me home tonight ;D


A knock sounded at the door. "Aye, I need meh hot date ey was promised." Ross's distinctive accent. Riley laughed to himself, a little breathlessly, suddenly anxious all over again. He crossed the penthouse, slipping his phone into his pocket on the way, and opened the door.

"Ross! Ah, we're going to be the envy of every couple there. Too bad I couldn't get you a nice bouquet of flowers to go with your eyes." Riley made a show of tucking an invisible flower behind Ross's ear, then offered him his elbow. "Well, everyone must be awaiting our arrival already. Shall we?"


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Image"Be good today, Petya lisichka," Petra reminded herself quietly as she stood by the window of her penthouse, cheek pressed against the glass. From her angle, she couldn't see the guests arriving at the Academy, but she could see the cars pulling up smoothly out of the growing dark, no doubt to dispense their expensive cargo at the steps of their school.

At least Tobias had agreed to go with her. If he had been kept from attending, she might have rejected the invitation as well. It just wasn't fair to allow his parentage to colour the mentors' perception of him, knowing how very unlike his father he was. Even if the mentors didn't, she trusted Tobias implicitly. He'd never turn his back on the Academy - even when they made it clear they fully expected him to.

Petra turned away from the window, surveying herself in the mirror once more. The dark charcoal dress, the silver bangle cold against the skin of her upper arm; all standard Petra fare. She took particular pleasure in the carefully casual braids that crossed the crown of her head, which had taken her fifteen minutes to wind and pin in place. The fun part about this gala - Petya, nothing about this is fun - would be seeing her classmates all dressed up and fancy. Ross especially - stop taking pleasure in that thought - would look especially good in a suit.

Yes, she looked forward to seeing everyone. How could she deny it?

Footsteps outside her penthouse, jerking her out of her pointless fancies. She reached the door a split second after the knock came, opening it quickly. "Hi."

"I uh... didn't know what color you'd wear, so I figured white would work." Petra stared at the flowers, uncertain of what she was supposed to do with them. Having never been to a standard high school, she wasn't too aware of the customs surrounding such events, only what she had learned from attending Stark's parties with her mother. They stood awkwardly like that for a moment, before Tobias placed it on her wrist.

"Yes, of course. A moment, please." At Tobias's request she turned away, leaving him in the doorway, picking up her phone from where it lay discarded, almost forgotten, on her bed when she had been picking out a dress earlier. She unlocked it and passed it to Tobias, pulling the door shut behind her. "And in exchange... you can help me carry it for the evening, please." Her fingers encircled his elbow gently, pulling him towards the elevator. "Deep breath. We'll be there together." Her words hung unsaid in the air between them: Be brave.

Even a distance away from the ballroom, Petra could sense the difference in the air. The buzzing of voices, the undercurrent of excitement lacing the atmosphere - and here Petra hastily reinforced her mental shields, blocking out the maelstrom of thoughts until they were reduced to no more than a low hum. "I don't suppose you're ready for this. I'm not," she muttered to her partner, eyes fixed on the figure of Frankie leading guests into the ballroom.


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Image Image ImagexxxxxxJ E N S E N x J O N E S x x #2b4f81 xx outfit x




Image"Stay there, you bastard," Jensen cursed out loud, sliding the pin into her hair for what must have been the fortieth time. Forty times's the charm, apparently, because this one finally held, anchoring the final stubborn tendril of hair in place. Jensen sighed, resisting the urge to fall back onto her bed, mostly because it would mess her hair but also because if she had to pin another hairpin in place she might actually scream.

The silk of her dress was cold and she was way shinier than she'd ever been since birth, but Jensen took a secret pleasure in looking unexpectedly fancy. The gala was a chance to see and learn more, so she'd taken the effort to find her fanciest things and dress up. But by god, she hadn't realised the hem of the dress went so high.

Striking a pose in front of her mirror, Jensen snapped a quick photo and sent it to Jessica. It was cute, her mother would be pleasantly surprised to see her looking so ladylike for once.

To: Mom
gala tonight. this is pretty, right
attached: image


She waited a minute, but no response came. Likely Jessica was off on a chase of some sort again. She'd see it later; Jensen wasn't fussed.

Her mind zipped back to that morning, when Murdock pulled Wren aside. Probably they'd be going together. Murdock was very readable, no matter what he thought about himself. And after a while, seeing the crushes became routine for her. She might even start a little betting pool with herself - who would make the first move? Would they be kissing by the end of tonight or would they wait until tomorrow?

Nah, by tomorrow Wren would be too grumpy. Murdock would just have to make his move tonight. Fingers flying over the screen, Jensen sent another text, this time to Alec.

To: Constantine
are you dressed? gonna swing by your place ok, don't wanna turn up alone. bet you're looking stupid fancy. im in blue if you wanna match


Once she'd sent the text, she had to face the next hurdle - lacing her shoes up. Normal heels weren't good enough for Jensen Emery Jones, oh no, she'd had to get the ones with laces that had to be tied in a pretty ribbon. Damned if these motherfuckers weren't going to be giving her trouble all evening.

After cursing and swearing for another five minutes, she finally did the shoes up, tugging gently to make sure she didn't accidentally break the laces. Pushing herself to her feet, she wobbled briefly, then found her balance. Dumping her lipstick, phone, and a handful of hairpins, safety pins, and tissues into her clutch, she strode across the carpeted floor and out, into the elevator.

"Alec? Are you decent? Doesn't matter, I'm going in," she called, sticking one of her spare hairpins into the lock of Alec's penthouse and jiggling it around. Under her experienced touch, the lock clicked in under a minute, and the door swung open. "Hey."


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ImageSome time while the guests were arriving, two pale, blond figures emerged from a sleek black car, the girl walking some distance behind the man. They looked like any other guests, save for the gigantic pair of wings protruding from each's shoulder blades - the man's off white, the girl's steel grey. These two are Warren and Wynne Worthington, father and daughter, United Nations delegates both.

Wynne was as poised as she'd always been trained to be, lips curved in a half smile, wings folded tightly against her back. She couldn't hide those, no, but they were the reason she was here today as delegate and representative. She and her father stood aside, watching as the guests streamed in. Later Thaddeus Ross would introduce them, and Wynne's purpose would be revealed to the rest. For now, she stayed quiet, her blue eyes sweeping over the growing attendance, naming each person she could recognise. She was pleased to find that she did not falter on any of the names.

"Mr. Worthington. Miss Worthington." A baritone voice from somewhere above Wynne's shoulder, and she turned to look into Bruce Wayne's face. "Mr. Wayne," her father responded in kind, and they shook hands and exchanged the necessary pleasantries. Wynne merely smiled and stepped back, allowing her father to speak for her. Though they were of equal status by this point, he liked it that way. And if he made him happy, Wynne didn't mind standing in his shadow from time to time.

Wayne said his goodbyes soon enough, striding away to continue his circuit of the room. Fingers tapped a microphone somewhere, and the speaker cleared his throat. "Hello. May I have your attention, please...." Thaddeus Ross was introduced, more pleasantries exchanged - Wynne couldn't help zoning out by then, even this was too much for her to handle - until her name was called.

"Now, on behalf of the United Nations, I'd like to introduce Wynne Worthington to you." Thaddeus Ross waved in her general direction, which she took as her cue to join him. "Wynne and her father, Warren Worthington, work with the United Nations to ensure that...powered individuals...such as the good students of the Academy are represented. Although, none of you have joined us - yet - and we're eager to gain some insight into the Academy. Therefore, Ms. Worthington here will be joining you amongst your ranks for a little while." Beaming, he stepped away, and gestured her towards the microphone. Oh. That was all he was going to introduce her for.

"Hello. I'm Wynne Worthington, and I'm excited to be joining as a - temporary student, shall we say. I take my responsibilities at the United Nations very seriously, and through this period of time I hope to get to know you better so that I can speak better for your benefit. Thank you." Jesus, it was like entering high school all over again. A little prickle skittered over the base of Wynne's skull, and she tucked her wings in tighter, trying not to let them ruffle. As gracefully as she could, she returned the speaking space to Ross, and headed back towards her father.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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xx N A T H A N I E L x S A N T O S
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xxxxxxx p a r e n t a g ex // xbane
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xxxxxxx h e x c o d ex // x69ad4c

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Nathaniel spent way too long getting ready considering how much he didn't want to go to this gala. He took a shower. Spent possibly blow drying and combing his hair to get it his waves to look perfectly slicked back. He even trimmed up his beard and cleaned the edges to look at put together as possible.

The tux turned out to be the most difficult part. He struggled for a bit making sure everything looked in place and eventually it did. He looked himself in the mirror. The tux was sitting in his room when he arrived. It was a gift from Dick. It actually didn't look half bad to Nathaniel. The jacket was ivory with a white shirt and black accents to match the pants and shoes. It fit surprisingly well and was comfortable to move in. Now he just needed to figure out the tie...

Nathaniel's phone rang right after he figured out his tie. He picked up his phone already knowing who it was. "Hey there, Dick."

There was laughter on the other line. "Imagine if it was anyone else picking up the phone. How's it going, Nate?"

"Okay, I guess..."

"Do you like the tux I got for you? How does it fit?"

"It's perfect."

"So what's got you so nervous about this gala then? Is there a certain spider-girl perhaps?"

Nathaniel's cheeks immediately flushed as he stuttered a response. "N-no..."

Truthfully, he was nervous about seeing her tonight just like any other time he was around her and turned into an accident prone idiot. He wanted to ask her to the gala tonight but missed out on his chance to ask when they were alone because he was honestly too scared. Now here he was trying to look his best to try and impress her but that wasn't what had him feeling so rattled about tonight.

"Is it because of him?" Nathaniel was silent on the phone. Dick Grayson knew him better than anyone. He didn't have to say anything for him to know that was the reason he was so nervous.

"You're nothing like he used to be."

"What if I might be? What if I finally snap and become what they all think I am?"

"Listen to me Nathaniel, that's never going to happen. You're blood doesn't define you."

"It does when you're blood can do what mine can..."

"Which is helping people. You're an amazing young man, Nate. You care so much more than you let people see and you use that giant brain of yours for good. Ross and all those other politicians are gonna see that. You're gonna waltz down there and show them the kind of great hero you are and get the girl while you're at it because you may be a Bane by blood but you've got the heart of a Grayson."

Nathaniel couldn't help but smile with new confidence instilled in him. "Thanks, Dad."

He could have sworn he heard him choke up on the phone a bit before responding, "Knock em dead."

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His new found confidence quickly seemed to be fading away once he stepped into the gala and realized just how many people were there. They all seemed to be socializing about current politics and playing clever games to one up each other. Nathaniel was completely screwed. There was no way he could survive any of these conversations nor did he even want to be a part of them. Now he needed to hatch a plan to appear like he was mingling but be able to avoid actual social interaction...

The bar.

He could drink with strangers, give his best attempt at smiling and laughing along, and he could get away with short responses. It was the perfect place for him to play his part and avoid everything he hates. Plus it'd take him awhile to actually get tipsy so he didn't even need to worry about make a drunken fool of himself like some other students he knew of. It was also the perfect place to people watch and get a better idea of the truth behind tonight's events.

Nathaniel quickly made his way over. It was hard for him to get past people since he was highly noticeable considering how much larger he was than everyone but he still moved as fast as possible. Anything to avoid getting stopped. He made it to the bar and waited at the end until the bartender came by. "Whiskey neat." He soon got his drink and began to have his plan unfold.




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xxxxxxx p a r e n t a g ex // xconstantine
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xxxxxxx h e x c o d ex // xd1a043

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Tonight was going to be perfect. Alec wasn't exactly pleased to be forced to go to the gala but he was especially excited for free alcohol and then chance to finally get laid. There was also getting dirt on politicians and sticking it to Mycroft that also pleased him. Now he just needed to figure out his tux. He could go classic but that wasn't his style. There was all black. It'd be very 'reverendish' but he was feeling loud tonight... He had two options for that. He'd decide after his shower.

And boy, did he need that shower. He stood in there a few moments longer than necessary just enjoying the streams over water bouncing onto his chest and the steam opening up his pores. He just wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible. Forget all about traveling with his father again and enjoy perfect water pressure again.

The moment didn't last much longer. Thoughts began to creep up into Alec's head and he immediately shut the shower off and got out. He put a towel around his waist and rubbed at his beard while he walked through his penthouse to the overly larger bar and poured himself a drink. Might as well pregame.

Alec's phone then began to buzz. He picked up his second drink and checked his phone to see who was texting him.

From: JJ
are you dressed? gonna swing by your place ok, don't wanna turn up alone. bet you're looking stupid fancy. im in blue if you wanna match


He began typing away with his response.

To: JJ
as long as you promise to be my drinking buddy for the night, sweetheart ;)


Looks like Alec was going to dress loud tonight after all. Good. He threw his towel back into the bathroom and disappeared for a moment in his room. He heard a knock on the door as he was putting on his tie. "Alec? Are you decent? Doesn't matter, I'm going in," He chuckled to himself knowing fully well she was currently breaking into his penthouse. He did the finishing touches on his tux and combed back his wet hair right when Jensen manages to pick his lock and walk in. He met her at the door as it swung open. "Hey."

Alec smirked and gave a little bow. "Why hello there, sweetheart." He laughed a bit before continuing on, "If you wanted to see me indecent all you had to do was ask and I'd give you the full tour. Especially when dressed like that." He gave her a quick wink and went to go grab his hat but J.A.R.V.I.S interrupted him.

"Apologies, Mr. Constantine. But the mentors have requested to no weaponry of any sorts at tonight's events."

Alec frowned. "How convenient." He sighed as he grabbed the door and motioned for him and Jensen to leave. "Unfortunately I don't have any flowers for you but how about you and I head down before all of the good alcohol gets taken?" He gave her his arm to escort her down and into the gala. Surely they were going to turn heads tonight.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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#, as written by barnes
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ImageThe couple paused again before entering, Petra turning expectantly to Tobias to meet his gaze.

"No matter what anyone says about me... Just let it happen. We... You need to make a good impression and if that means letting the politicians talk poorly about me, then so be it."

She didn't miss the change in pronouns. "I won't start trouble tonight," she promised. "But you need to remember that we...come from the same background. If you're a criminal by blood, then I'm as much to blame as you are. So don't even entertain the idea that I'll leave you behind to further my own reputation, United Nations or not."

If Tobias noticed the faltering silence he wasn't alone. The faint buzz of thoughts throwing themselves against her mental shields faded for half a minute, then returned in full force, buzzing like flies around a dead body. Or like speculation around a topic that should have been dead by now.

Tobias's step never hesitated, though, and neither did she. One could almost say it was an ability their family had perfected. They glided towards the orchestra in tandem, Petra reaching out to snag two glasses of champagne as they passed a waiter. She offered one to Tobias. "If Mystique - Raven - is in trouble, she can go to my mother's," she mumbled, her voice drowned out by the orchestra this close to them. "I worry it may be an obvious choice to your father, but it may buy her some time. It's better than her running around unguarded. I'll call and let my mother know." She smiled at him, as innocently as she could in the event that anyone was watching them, and retrieved her phone from his blazer pocket.

"Mama. Yes. Oh, it's a party alright, but we all know what's going on. Listen - Mama - Tobias, you know he's also at the Academy with me, his mother," and here she looked up to gauge his face, to make sure she wasn't crossing any boundaries, "yes, her, she needs help. From Erik. Can you help her, please? No, you know what he's like. We can't leave her to fend for herself." There was a long pause as Petra listened to Wanda, nodding. "Thank you. I'll see you soon." She ended the call, passing the phone back to Tobias. "Text her now. My mother will find her." She didn't need him to say anything in return. Knowing Magneto Raven could use all the help she could get, and Petra wasn't going to let her fight alone. Not when she mattered so much to Tobias.

A blonde girl was introduced to the room at large, and Petra watched her while she spoke, trying not to stick too closely to Tobias. "I hope to get to know you better so that I can speak better for your benefit. Thank you." Petra clapped politely, joining the scattered applause greeting the announcement. For a quick moment, she focused on the Worthington girl as she left the stage and returned to her father, finding her thoughts not at all difficult to read. Holy hell, get ahold of yourself. Her wings trembled a little, and Petra smiled to herself. So the girl wasn't all that confident - if anything, she was nervous. Strange, considering she was a mutant and could likely hold her own...

"...the Lehnsherr boy?" Thaddeus Ross was not a quiet man, and if he was trying to be one he was failing tremendously. Petra could hear him from where she stood, sipping champagne as if it could make things any better. She'd promised Tobias she wouldn't create a commotion, but Thaddeus Ross's righteousness got on one's nerves quickly. And Petra wasn't patient like Frankie. Her free hand curled into a fist, nails biting into the flesh of her palm briefly. The old fire rose in her, threatening. And just as quickly, it was gone, tamped down where it couldn't hurt anyone. She turned her back to the orchestra, surveying the room. When she met Thaddeus's gaze, she flashed a smile at him, all teeth. It was hardly a threat, but a reminder that she was listening. Enough for him to remember who he was dealing with.

Her eyes continued moving, catching sight of a familiar face - Ross, who turned away right before she met his eyes and started talking to Riley. She raised her glass to hide her amused grin, waving at Riley.


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ImageOnce inside the elevator, Riley couldn't help checking his attire again in the reflective walls, twisting his watch and adjusting his tie. Should he have gone with a bow tie? Oh god, he didn't have a bow tie. He couldn't go back and change, even if he wanted to.

"No one asked da peanut gallery," Ross's voice snapped him back to reality. Riley shook himself out of his anxious mantra, fighting the urge to fidget the rest of the way down. "It's okay. We can just go and have a good time," he promised, reassuring Ross as much as himself. Which is probably to say, not all that much. But effort counted for something, right?

A gentle ding sounded as they reached ground zero, Riley leading the way towards the ballroom. This close to Ross, he could sense his nervousness, which wasn't helping his own. But he had more experience managing it than Ross did, so it came down to him to control the situation.

As they entered the hall, Riley's head turned this way and that, trying to take in everything. The room was huge - it seemed to stretch on forever. It seemed vastly incongruous, a place of refinement and grace in the Academy, where more often than not one of the students was injured or concussed from training. It was as though it existed on a separate plane from the rest of the Academy, somewhere politicians could mill around and talk to each other without worrying about being tackled by someone. And that someone was more often than not the overenthusiastic Wren Wilson, who seemed to be behaving herself tonight. The surprises just kept coming.

"Ey think em goin' to vomit... Er ya goin' to vomit? Em goin' to vomit." Riley turned back to Ross, alarmed. A nauseous student was the last thing they needed. "Come on, it's fine... We'll get you something easy to eat, alright? It's just a few hours," Riley tried to reassure him, ushering him forward, barely paying attention to the girl with wings onstage. He'd need to find out more about that later. He bit back a groan when Ross stopped again, staring into the hall. "Is it Thaddeus Ross? Do you need me to keep him away from you?" Riley tried, following Ross's line of sight.

...oh. If Ross was looking at what Riley thought he was looking at his behaviour was justified. Riley's sexuality didn't discount that fact that Petra Maximoff looked stunning, even with her imposing countenance. She turned in their direction and waved, just a little wiggle of her fingers really, and Riley smiled, nodding in response. His hands were busy supporting Ross, who had just turned to him in a sudden panic.

"Ey uh... What do ey do?... Drinks, right? Drinks?" Riley sighed. How did I ever make friends with such an idiot?

"Yes, alright, come on, drinks. Let's get you something strong and a seat." He guided Ross into the room, steering him towards an empty table in the corner and depositing him in one of the chairs. "You stay here."

He crossed the room to the bar, leaning against it with a smile. "Hi. Could I get a Jack and Coke and a Scotch, neat? Thanks." The bartender, who might have noticed Ross, judging by his grin, slid two glasses over. Riley grabbed them and returned to Ross, plonking the glass of Scotch in front of him. "That's for you. Do you want food?"

While Ross was temporarily distracted by the alcohol, Riley looked around the room, searching for Frankie. She looked like she needed a little support after her conversation with Thaddeus Ross, but he didn't want to leave Ross alone just yet. He waved at her, tilting his head to ask do you want to come sit with us? Maybe the three of them could huddle together in a little circle of nerves until the night was over.


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ImageWarren was waiting with a glass of white wine when Wynne returned. "You handled yourself well up there," he said, leaning in close and pitching his voice low, passing her the glass. "But I could tell you were tense, and there are people in here who are privy to your thoughts. You need to watch yourself more carefully."

"Yes, father," she responded, managing her most demure smile. He was still acting like she was made for him to control, as another front for him to further himself politically. Wynne's rebellious period was over, but sometimes her father still made her want to scream.

Cradling her glass, she managed various comments from the other UN members milling around her, as gracefully as she could. Someone reached out to run their finger through the feathers at the tip of her wings, and it took all the self-control she had not to twitch away. Eventually, the chatter subsided, and she excused herself, mumbling something about getting to know the people she would be working with.

Quickly surveying the room, she assessed her options. Stark and Wayne were out of the question, since Wayne had already spoken to her and they clearly had more interest in her father - not the students chatting at the bar, since she wasn't done with her drink and wasn't too eager to get any drunker than she needed to be - the more she looked, the more it seemed like everyone was occupying themselves. She would almost have settled for the student that had spoken to her earlier, until she landed on someone far more interesting - Tobias Lehnsherr. He wasn't alone, but his partner, the Maximoff girl, didn't seem too hostile, and presumably was there to keep him in check. Wynne began making her way to them, close to the orchestra. Some might accuse her of going straight for the prize, but as far as she was concerned the two of them could potentially wield the most power in the Academy, whether they were aware of it or not, and getting to know them would be a benefit. She could see no problems, even if they rejected her presence.

She stood a little distance from them, pausing to admire the orchestra, then stepped closer. "Beautiful, isn't it? I always wanted to learn an instrument, but my parents thought the piano was more sophisticated. I'm Wynne Worthington." She extended a hand to Lehnsherr, looking from him to Maximoff, trying to gauge their reactions.


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ImageJensen stopped right in the doorway of Alec's apartment, stopping herself from leaning against the wall in time. She didn't need to be scattering a trail of pins behind her like some twisted version of Hansel and Gretel.

"If you wanted to see me indecent all you had to do was ask and I'd give you the full tour. Especially when dressed like that."

Jensen snorted and waved the compliment away. "You wish, Constantine. As it is I think I like you better in your fancy getup." Still, she turned away, moving to stand outside the penthouse until he joined her.

"Unfortunately I don't have any flowers for you but how about you and I head down before all of the good alcohol gets taken?" The door closed softly behind Alec, and Jensen took his elbow, following him into the elevator. "You do know that the mentors will be very unhappy if you end up looking like a drunken fool in front of everyone, right?" Both of them were dependent on alcohol to some degree, but somehow Jensen was more anxious tonight about getting the Academy into the UN's good books than she was generally. The Jones women didn't get along well with authority figures, but the entire United Nations was something none of them could stand against.

Jensen had to focus on walking properly in her heels, but the moment she stepped into the hall she forgot her concerns in favour of gawking. Everyone was dressed up so nicely, and though there was an undercurrent of anxiety in the air this was way more elegance than Jensen had ever experienced in her entire life.

"Oh no, there's Thaddeus Ross, quick let's go in the other direction," she hissed at Alec, trying to guide him away. If there was one person unqualified to speak to an important political figure in the room, it was Jensen Jones. Unfortunately, when she looked to see where exactly she was pulling Alec towards, she saw the bar. So much for abstinence.

Before she knew it she was holding a glass of Scotch, trying to look inconspicuous as possible. At least attention was quickly drawn away by the girl currently being announced. Jensen leaned against the bar, watching her. She'd be interesting to know better...even if she was technically a spy for the UN.

In the distraction she'd forgotten about her haste to get away from Thaddeus Ross. She glanced around - the man was nowhere in sight. She turned to Alec. "Sorry about that. But - look, Wren!"

On the other side of the bar, Wren Wilson was talking to someone - chatting him up, no doubt, Jensen recognised the look on her face. She waved, trying to catch her friend's attention, a shit-eating grin on her face. The boy Wren was talking to didn't look familiar, but she'd catch them both up later. For now Jensen just wanted to mess with her.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

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#, as written by mjolnir
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wren wilson
deadpoolx|xoutfitx|x#BB141E

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The man chuckled, somewhat melodically, causing the corner of Wren's lips to tug in a slight smirk. Good answer. She couldn't help but allow her gaze to follow his, which turned towards a woman he was previously talking to. Wren quirked her brow towards the woman when they made brief eye contact. She smiled, toasting her drink towards the U.N. whomever. The lady didn't look like she wanted to test the waters, which was smart. Wren was satisfied using her, less than stable, reputation to her advantage every once and awhile.

Wren's eyes were back on the specimen before her, when his gaze moved back to her. "No, I'm not," he replied in regards to his affiliation with the U.N. big wigs.

Her smirk grew ever so slightly as she raised her drink to her lips. "Good answer," she said softly against the brim of the glass before taking a sip. She sized him up as she set her martini down on the bar beside her. Not U.N.. That only meant one other thing, new student. Lucky for her, she'd get to see this tantalizing face more than just tonight. Although, she'd most definitely like to see it in a disheveled mess tomorrow morning.

Her gaze fell towards his hand as he extended it towards her, along with giving his name. "I'm Cassius Thompson." Thompson. Thompson? Where had she heard that name before?

Wren took a slight step towards him, placing her hand in his, never breaking eye contact. "Sorry if I scared off your date." Her gaze flicked over to where the woman once was, but no longer stood. She leaned her head forward slightly, her tone dropping to almost a whisper. "But between you and me, I'm much better company."

When Cassius smiled, Wren couldn't help but mirror it, resting her elbow on the bar beside her. "And who might you be? Clearly you're not U.N. either - Having such a beautiful agent would be far too distracting."

“Well well," Wren tilted her head coyly, as her finger traced circles around the brim of her glass. "I thought your mouth might work wonders." She quirked a suggestive brow as she raised her martini to take a sip. "I wonder what other magic it does.” She was skirting around the question, almost enticing a game of cat and mouse. Keep them wanting more. Plus, as much as people would like to say she is, Wren isn't dumb. Mr. Thompson was wanting to be a little mysterious... Two can play that game.

“The fact that you don’t know me makes it all the more intriguing. Not saying I’m a popular person, but I can’t throw a rock without it hitting someone who’s heard something terrible about me." Wren shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant manner. Her reputation did proceed her, and who was she kidding... She liked it. "So, I tell you what, Mr. Tall, dark and…" Her gaze looked him over from head to toe. "mmmm." Her smirk turned seductively mischievous. "Figure out who I am, you can have the honors of my first dance.”

She shifted from leaning against the counter, pushing off against it so that she was standing up right. Her right hand twirling the toothpick in her drink slowly. "And then?..." Wren shrugs her shoulders, pulling one of the olives off the toothpick with her teeth, chewing it as she held his gaze. "Well... who knows?"

With that, Wren began to slowly walk away from the bar. She finally allowed herself to look around the room and saw Jensen with an all too I-know-what-you're-doing face, waving at her dramatically. Wren was tempted to flip her the bird, but remembered she was supposed to 'be on her best behavior'. So, she gave a wave of her fingers with a sarcastic grin that basically said go fuck yourself.

She looked back over her shoulder towards Cassius, pointing her finger that held her drink at him. “And no mind tricks, purple boy. Cheating is no fun.” Wren smiled towards him with a wink. After some thought she knew who he was. She remembered hearing about his father, Kevin Thompson, on the news sometime ago. Someone Jensen's mom dealt with awhile back. She had no idea if he was as... Bad as his father, but Wren was too fucked up for a Clark Kent type anyway. Cassius had her intrigued. The villainous background only added to his dark, eccentric appeal.

She weaved her way through a few of the tables, making her way towards a vacant one a few more turns away. But, Wren was stopped in her tracks when she couldn't help but over hear the tail end of a conversation. "And thorns." A man's deep chuckle caused her head to turn towards the table to the left where an obvious politician sat with Lilith. "What could they do? Oh I need a band aid, lookout."

If they weren't trying to be on their best behavior, Wren probably would have flipped this penguin suited fuck right on his back, smack dab in the middle of the table. Then let Lilith shove some of her thorns down his throat. Put a bandaid on that. But, today was about behaving herself... That didn't mean turning off her sarcastic veiled threats, right? Wren took a step towards the table, smiling towards Lilith. "Watch yourself Ms. Isley, I may have to take you home myself... Because you look ravishing."

"Hi, I don't believe we've met." Wren extended her hand towards the man, shaking it in a firm greeting. "Wren Wilson, daughter of Wade Wilson." She smirked in a matter of fact way, then pulled out a chair, taking a seat beside Lilith, across from the patronizing asshole. She couldn't help but notice the man's demeanor shift in an uncomfortable way. This guy knew who she was. Perfect. Now, he'd probably try to ass kiss. Should be hilarious.

She couldn't help but let her gaze drift over towards Cas as she crossed her legs. She leaned forward, placing her elbow on the table. Her eyes shifting towards the man before her as she rested her chin on the back of her hand. "Did you know that some of the most dangerous creatures in the world are the most beautiful?" She raised an inquisitive brow as she took a sip of her drink.

"What?... Like poison dart frogs?" The man chuckled, leaning back in his seat unimpressed. "Unless, you're hiding a dozen of those in that dress..." His gaze drifted lower on Lilith towards her chest.

Wren snapped in front of his face, motioning her middle and index finger towards her eyes. "Eyes up here, pal." She downed the rest of her drink, setting the empty glass on the table. "And, no. I don't mean frogs." This guy was the reason she hated people. They're dumb and degrading, and needed a bullet between the eyes. "I take it you haven't heard of death by a thousand cuts?" She quirked her head to the side. "Thorns do cut people, don't they Lil?" She turned her head towards Lilith with a smug grin, before looking back towards the man. "Bandaids aren't meant to go everywhere," she said, motioning her index finger up and down the male.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

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Alec barely had any time to enjoy the scenery around him when he felt himself get pulled away. "Oh no, there's Thaddeus Ross, quick let's go in the other direction," Jensen hissed into his ear as she dragged him along by the arm. "But I wanted to take a whack at showing him my southern charm..." Truthfully, Alec didn't put up much of a fight. It didn't take him very long to realize they were heading straight for the bar and that quickly shut down any further rebuttals from him. It didn't take very long for Alec to already have a bourbon in hand and another on the way with how quickly he could clear a shelf.

Jensen looked over at him and gave an apology, "Sorry about that. But - look, Wren!" Alec's gaze followed hers as he caught Wren down at the end of the bar with a man that had him struggling to pick his jaw up on the floor. "How do I get one of those?" He couldn't help but laugh as he downed the rest of his drink just as the other arrived. "That man would make me glad to go to Hell." Another chuckle as he started working through the next drink and ready to order another.

Wren eventually left the mystery hunk. Jensen continued to mess with their best friend but Alec instead raised his glass in admiration as he finished glass number... Whatever and order himself another before eventually addressing the other best friend that happened to be his date for the evening. He ordered his next glass of bourbon and also ordered Jensen another scotch.. "You know I do believe you need to make up dragging me over here..." He smiled at her coyly. "I just wonder what it could possibly be to satisfy my appetite for the evening." He stroked at his chin to play off thinking of ideas.

As if on cue, the music changed and he caught sight of people pairing off for the dance floor. Alec's expression slowly turned into a grin as he looked over at his date. He reached out his hand and gave a dramatic bow. "Jensen Jones, will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the dance floor?" He looked back up at her and winked. "After all, what better way to show off how ravishing you look tonight?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

0.00 INK

#, as written by barnes
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ImagePetra wasn't paying attention to her surroundings, which is why the Worthington girl managed to sneak up on her. It probably wasn't her intention, but she'd caught Petra off guard, leaving her unable to step between Tobias and whatever UN agent considered him a person of interest, so for all intents and purposes, she had been snuck up on.

"I'm Wynne Worthington." Regardless of her intentions, she had a warm smile, and Petra admired the way her expression never faltered even at Tobias's dry remark - though she thought she could hear faint screaming coming from somewhere in the general direction of Wynne's mind.

Petra reached out past Tobias to shake her hand just as he signalled a waiter for more champagne. "I'm Petra Maximoff. It's good to have you join us." Well, not really, but a little bit of diplomacy never hurt anyone. Besides, Petra admitted reluctantly to herself, there wasn't any point in making an enemy of the UN agent before her agenda was clear.

"Hey Red - Petra."

A different voice caught her attention, and she turned away from Tobias and Wynne to face Ross, her face lighting up almost immediately. Gods, but he looked good, even as nervous as he clearly was. She had to resist laughing at his expression, as comical as it was he was trying, and that counted for rather a lot in her book.

"You, uh... Ya look really beautiful," he continued, and this time it was Petra's turn to colour at the compliment, her face heating up. "Thank you. You look great, too," she returned, her voice steady. "Green is a good colour on you."

He didn't seem to respond, instead continuing, "Would ya like a drink? Wait, you have a drink. Actually... Ey was wondering if you'd like to dance?"

Oh. So that was what this was about. Petra paused for a moment to recollect herself. She was slipping - her mental barriers were weakening again, she could hear voices more clearly this time. Tonight was not the night to get a headache listening to a roomful of thoughts, so she reinforced the barriers and finished the little bit of champagne left in her glass, returning it to a passing waiter. "I would love to dance. But before that..." She reached up, tugging at his tie, straightening it. A whole ballroom's worth of people with international standing and he was going to walk around with his tie askew?... Not on her watch.

At least that's what she told herself.

"Don't you have any mirrors?" she teased once she was done, her fingers stilling at Ross's collar for a moment. "Now about that dance you asked for..." She took his hand and let him lead her onto the floor, casting one last glance back towards Tobias and Wynne. He looked fine, so she sent him a little telepathic reassurance - I'll be right there - and turned away, pulling her partner into an easy waltz. "How are you finding the party so far?"


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Image"Scotch?... Because 'em Scottish? Really?"

Riley resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his friend, then thought better of it and graced Ross with the best "I'm-not-amused-you-little-shit" expression he could muster. "You threatened to throw up when you entered the hall and absolutely lost your bloody mind at the sight of pretty girls... I think my judgement is marginally better than yours right now." He mock-scowled at Ross as he passed, although he did mutter a low "Good luck," as Ross headed towards the orchestra.

Straight people can be so nuts sometimes.

Alone now, Riley sank into the vacated chair and looked around for someone else he could join. The feeling of being watched by multiple pairs of judging eyes was creeping up his back again, and maybe being with someone friendly could convince his anxiety to back off. Maybe Frankie - no, she was talking to Nathaniel. And he'd just asked her for a dance. Riley smiled fondly at her departing back, feeling a little like a proud parent watching his kid go to prom. Who am I kidding, I'll never get a chance to have kids and send them to high school. Who was gonna stop him from living through his friends?

"I don't suppose this seat is taken?" A voice sounded somewhere above Riley's head, and he looked up to see a man, probably not that much older than him, hand resting on the empty chair by Riley's side. "Uh, no, go ahead." He watched, slightly bewildered, as the man - clearly another UN representative - pulled the chair out and slid in beside Riley, setting a glass of wine down to run his hands through his blond hair. "This is some party, huh?" I'm Solberg, I'm with the -" here he chuckled and gestured over his shoulder noncommittally, "the UN, but you probably knew that. You students don't get much action like this, huh? Everyone's so wound up." He met Riley's gaze, suddenly alarmed and earnest at once. "But look at my manners! I haven't given you a chance to introduce yourself!"

To say Riley was confused was perhaps something of an understatement - he'd never met anyone like Solberg before, and he did not fit the expected mould of a UN representative. Although he did seem genuinely friendly.

"Riley, Riley Barton," he managed, reaching over to shake Solberg's hand. "It's, uh, it's good to have you at the Academy tonight, Mr Solberg."

"Oh, look at the boy quaking in his nice suit!" the official laughed, letting go of Riley's hand to clasp his shoulder. "You can dispense with the formalities, just Sol is fine. You're Hawkeye's kid, aren't you?"

Riley nodded, settling back into his seat, trying to get comfortable. It might end up being a very long night.


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ImageNot actively hostile, that was already a good start. Up close, Tobias Lehnsherr was good-looking, more so than Wynne had expected, a kind of soft resigned quality to his gaze that made a glimmer of guilt twinge in her head for treating him like a target. He was a student - closer to the mutant situation than she could ever claim to be - and he couldn't help his heritage.

He could, however, help the side he chose to take, and this thought steeled Wynne's resolve again. She had to make sure he didn't side with his father, and if he did she had to find a way to negate the damage that could be caused.

So she kept her smile steady, not faltering at his offhand remark even as she tried not to flip at the idiot sentence she'd chosen as her opening. Petra was a touch friendlier than Tobias, and Wynne was sorry to see her attention pulled away by Ross McCulloch. Perhaps she might get to know then a little better later, but for now she didn't comment as they left, turning her attention back to Tobias.

Accepting the champagne with murmured thanks, Wynne raised her glass to mirror Tobias's, tilting it towards him in an effort to be less rigid. "Please. Just Wynne will do."

She adjusted her stance, shifting her weight onto one leg. It hadn't been that long since she'd interacted socially with people her age, but she hadn't the faintest idea what to do to endear herself to a school full of mutants who likely thought she was as much a blood traitor as Tobias's father considered her to be.

"So, Tobias. I don't know if you've ever been the new kid - goodness knows I've been that person too many times - but each school has its own culture, and though I might not have the chance to fit in fully given my short time here I thought it'd be nice to hear from a student. What's the Academy like? Do you like it? What do you guys do?"


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ImageWren left, and Jensen put her arm down, eyes flicking between the boy she'd left standing at the bar and Wren herself, off to go threaten some official. Looks like Wren might not hate the evening as much as she'd complained about before - hell, her companion was about as handsome as they come, and like Alec expressed much more creatively, Jensen wouldn't mind meeting someone cute and interesting either. Jensen wondered who he was. Not UN, surely? Wren had few limits dictating who she'd lay her charm on, but given her general distaste Jensen doubted she'd be so eager unless she was planning something.

A freshly refilled glass slid over by Jensen's arm as soon as she'd finished her drink, courtesy of Alec. "Thank you," she said absently, still looking around the hall. Some of these people she could still recognise, given that they didn't look all that different from usual - Petra Maximoff was about as fancy as she usually was, she'd probably wear that dress to brunch if the opportunity arose - but some of her classmates looked completely different. Like Thaleia Castle. Hot damn! Jensen didn't know she had that much gorgeous in her. To be fair, she and Wren themselves weren't all that beauty queen material anyway - yet here they were.

"You know I do believe you need to make up dragging me over here..." Jensen turned just in time to meet Alec's eyes, noting his smile that never could mean anything good was coming. "I just wonder what it could possibly be to satisfy my appetite for the evening."

"Just drink your alcohol and don't get any weird ideas," Jensen grumbled. I should've expected he'd have some nonsense up his sleeve, she couldn't help thinking fondly. A party wasn't a party without Alec trying to get a rise out of someone.

As it turned out, Alec didn't need to get any ideas, the music provided him with all he needed. Jensen realised her mistake in not leaving the moment the music changed, taking on a livelier tone, and Alec turned to her, affecting a bow. "Jensen Jones, will you do me the honour of accompanying me to the dance floor? After all, what better way to show off how ravishing you look tonight?"

"You're mocking me, Alec Constantine," Jensen scoffed, aiming a well-placed kick at his shin, not hard enough to do any real damage - didn't need any broken bones, not at the gala - but enough to hurt, at least for a few moments. She took his hand anyway, moving towards the floor a little reluctantly. She didn't know how to dance, and was loath to make a fool of herself trying to, especially here. "I hope you know how to dance, because I don't. And for your information, that bow was the stupidest thing I've seen in a while, aside from your face." She couldn't resist.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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xxxxxxx p a r e n t a g ex // xbane
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"Of course," Frankie's slender hand graced Nathaniel's palm and he could hardly keep himself from grinning ear to ear. The man was literally glowing at this point. He did it. He finally did it. After all this time of making a fool of himself and dragging himself along into grueling social situations... He finally made a move. Yes, it was just a dance but it was still his first move in the right direction and quite possibly his only chance to sweep Frankie off her feet.

He took her hand into the other as he swooped her arm inside of his and lead her towards the dance floor. He may not be the most extravagant dancer but he could pull off a waltz and he was determined to make the most of this. It was certainly obvious still just how nervous Frankie made him. He couldn't help it. Nathaniel had become increasingly fond of her company and it made him feel odd and nervous around her because she was the only person him to see him differently. The only one to see him as someone capable of good.

They finally reached a spot Nathaniel was satisfied with and he took her hand once more as he faced her. His left hand held her right while his right hand made it's way gently to the small of her back. The size comparison of the two probably looked a bit comical but Nathaniel honestly didn't care. He was still the one lucky enough to get a dance with Frankie Parker.

As he tuned his ear into the sound of the orchestra, Nathaniel began taking steps along to the beat. There were moments Nathaniel glanced down at his feet to keep himself in track but he kept to the basic steps as the two danced together. He decided step in closer towards her and he leaned down and whispered into Frankie's ear, "Thank you for saying yes..." He then added, "I don't know what else to say other than you look too beautiful for words." Nathaniel felt a bit daring and went for an underarm twirl before pulling her back close into his arms. "And it's not only today."



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"You're mocking me, Alec Constantine," Alec smirked at Jensen's scoffed response ready to have a clever comeback until she kicked his shin. Alec instead did his best to remain calm and collected which was certainly much easier considering how tipsy he already was. Besides, she still took his hand and let him lead her towards the dance floor. Alec counted that as a win in hi book even though he was going to have a bruised shin in the morning. It would be his battle scar in remembrance of convincing the Jensen Jones to dance with him. If he even remember anything in the morning that is.

Of course Jensen had another quip for him, "I hope you know how to dance, because I don't. And for your information, that bow was the stupidest thing I've seen in a while, aside from your face." Alec laughed as he faced her on the dance floor. He held her hand in his as he spoke, "Yet..." He tugged at her quickly. He wasn't super strong or anything but he was hoping to startle and get a reaction out of her as his hand went slowly from her hip to the small of her back and he whispered into her ear, "Here you are dancing with me having to stare at my face for a whole song, sugar." He chuckled into her before twirling her around. They certainly knew how to banter like best friends.

Alec continued to lead them in the waltz and couldn't help but have a big ol' smirk plastered across his face as they danced. "Not only do you get to stare at my face, but you also get to dance with Miss Purgatories dance partner two years running." He twirled her around again and pulled her suddenly back into him. "A perk of having a southern belle mother adamant on her son knowing how to dance so he charm all the lovely ladies in school." He was having way too much fun with this. He was certainly carrying the entire dance but he still managed to enjoy himself. He got to drag his best friend out into a crowd of people to dance and he got to enjoy a nice amount of free booze. What could possibly go wrong?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Xavier Strange Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Zachary Drake Character Portrait: Jimmy Storm Character Portrait: Mia Cage Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

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wren wilson
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Wren grinned up towards Cas as his fingers wrapped around her hand that was placed in his palm. His other hand moved to the small of her back, gently pulling her closer to him until her chest was lightly pressed to his. To no surprise, Cassius seemed to know exactly what he was doing. After all, he looked like the type to be well bread. So, anything that called for more tact and class, he'd excel at. On the other hand, Wren was probably the farthest thing at this academy from classy and graceful. Luckily for her, her partner seemed to be more than capable of leading a dance with ease. It was a decent amount of time into the dance before she realized that she was moving in sync with him without a hiccup.

His gaze was intense and direct. Normally, something like that would make her uncomfortable. But instead, Wren held his gaze with ease, a small smirk cemented on her face. It was safe to say she had never seen a more attractive specimen in her life. It should have been intimidating, but everyone who knew Wren knew she loved a challenge. But so far, there wasn't even a minor hurdle. Just electric sexual attraction... And who could turn that down? She wouldn't be the first to admit that something else about him was even more intriguing, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Wren Wilson," he said softly, his face so close to her own that she could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. "I have to say you are not what I expected."

Her hand slowly moved from his upper arm, coming to rest upon the curve of his neck. She tilted her head to the side slightly as her finger tips ran along the edge of his tuxedo collar. "Oh really?" Wren asked with a smirk. Being completely frank, she probably wasn't the first thing anyone expected. She was the kind of person who danced to the beat of her own drum and kick anyone's ass who gave her shit for it. "And what was it you were expecting?" She couldn't help herself from asking.

Wren always wondered what people assumed about her before they met her. Especially someone like Cassius. She couldn't help but wonder what preconceived notions would be in a mind like his. No doubt if he was his father, Kilgrave would waste no time in using Wren as a weapon. Would mind control even work on her? She knew that telepathic nonsense did little to nothing to her... Something with her healing factor and something something. Professor Xavier explained it to her once, but Wren was fairly certain she was zoning out. So, he might have told her at some point in that boring conversation about how mind control would effect her. But again, did she listen? Nope.

But, even if it did work on her... Wren wasn’t intimidated or scared. It took a lot to intimidate her. She might not have powers that she can use offensively like some of the others in the academy. But unlike them, she could take a lot. Mycroft seemed more intimidating than over half of the people in this ballroom. But it still didn't scare her. Wren could be the only woman up against an army of more powerful mutants and laugh in their faces. Her fears were much more basic and primal.

As they continued to dance, there was a long period of silence. But it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. A peaceful type of comfort without talking, allowing their minds to wonder while their bodies moved through the steps with ease. Then it seemed as though Cassius' gaze drew a bit more inquisitive and meaningful, causing Wren's brows to furrow ever so slightly like a silent question. "Do I not frighten you?" For such a heavy question, he asked it calmly. As he waited on her response, his hand slid lower down her back. The subtle movement sending a slight chill up her spine. She couldn't remember the last time someone's touch gave her chills… It was a good thing of course. If it wasn't, Cas' hand would be broken already.

This time instead of replying in a sarcastic or seductive manner, Wren kept herself fairly serious. She felt a question like that wasn't something to joke about. Contrary to what others believed, she did know when to be a sarcastic asshole and when not to be. Her hand shifted to the back of his neck, her thumb brushing the exposed skin above his suit collar. "No," she replied quietly with a slight shake of her head. She let her gaze drift about the hall, seeing the numerous eyes fixed upon the two of them. The sight of the both of them together obviously worrying them. A powerful and deadly combination, bodies pressed together in a waltz. It was almost like she was the gun and he was the trigger... And everyone there knew it. Wren looked back up at him. "Do I scare you?"

You know how it is always said there is a calm before the storm. An eery silence where a pin could drop and sound like a bomb. Sort of like the world was holding its breath waiting for the other shoe to drop. That sensation hit Wren like a freight train, causing her body to instantly tense. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked up Cassius. She brought herself closer to him. Her cheek softly pressed to his while her arm wrapped around his shoulders. To anyone else their dance just seemed to grow more intimate but her body was in a more protective and alert position. She now had a large view of the gala. Wren tried her best not to look on edge as her eyes darted around looking for something out of place. "Something's not right," she whispered quietly into Cassius' ear.

The song slowly came to and end, the ballroom drawing silent. It was so quiet that Wren's own breathing was deafening. She took in a sharp breath and held it. "We need to—"

BOOM!

The explosion ripped through the ballroom, sending everything flying in every direction. Wren couldn't stop the force of the explosion from sending them flying across the hall. She held as tightly as she could to Cassius. When being thrown through the air its nearly impossible to control what's going to happen. Luckily, Wren was the one who was slammed into the wall. The descent to the ground far below was much slower than the force from the blast. As best as she could, Wren positioned herself to take most of the impact of their fall.

"Ah!" She groaned out on impact. Wren looked up at Cassius. "Are you ok? Were you hurt?"

As carefully as Wren could manage, she slid out from under Cas. While sitting up, she winced feeling every piece of debris shift with her movements. But that was the least of her worries. She slowly moved to her knees, peaking around an overturned table. A whole the size of a school bus was ripped through the side of the hall. A loud chopping noise grew as a helicraft lowered beside the opening. Its side doors flew open. Before she could see who was inside, dozens of smoke grenades were tossed into the ballroom. Aside from creating a thick fog, Wren could smell traces of numerous toxins and drugs within the cloud.

Soldiers in head to toe riot gear and gas masks started flooding into the room. For just a second she caught a glimpse of the symbol on one of the men. Hydra. "There!" one of them shouted while pointing at her just before the smoke consumed Wren.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Wren quickly tore a piece of fabric from the skirt of her dress and held it to Cas' nose and mouth. "Stay hidden and try not to take deep breaths." Unfortunately, no amount of fabric would block those toxins forever. As she stood up, Wren could already see many of the U.N. officials collapse from the knock out gas. She was kicking herself for following the rules this time. If she had her guns, or even her swords these Hydra soldiers’ asses would be grass… But no.

Wren pulled off her stilettos, ditching one while holding the other in her right hand. Without her shoes she was able to run towards the Hydra soliders making minimum noise. She came up behind one, using her left hand to yank his helmet off his head. Before he was able to turn around, Wren slammed the heel of her shoe through his eye socket. She pivoted on her heels, turning to face another approaching solider. She took off in a sprint, jumping up and slamming both of her feet into his chest, sending the guy flying backwards. Wren quickly got back up on her feet and pinned down the armored man before he could get up.

"Congrats. You've been promoted to hostage." Wren tore the gas mask from his face along with his helmet. Then in a single swift motion, she smashed his helmet down into his nose, knocking him unconscious.

Before Wren could get up, something slammed her in the back like a battering ram. The second it hit her, she spat out blood, gasping for breath. Wren inhaled a painful breath as she looked down to find a whaling harpoon protruding out of her abdomen. Like a claw, tendrils expanded from it, wrapping around her frame. Then with a forceful jerk, she was pulled backwards knocking over Hydra soldiers in her wake. She was brought to an abrupt stop once inside the helicraft. Gloved hands quickly grab her head and with a forceful twist, they snap her neck causing Wren to slump over unconscious.

"Lock her up!" one of the soldiers barked to the other. "If she wakes up, break her neck again... Unless you wanna deal with a pissed of Wilson in closed quarters."




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tobias lehnsherr
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"I'm Petra Maximoff. It's good to have you join us." Tobias leaned out of the way slightly so that Petra could give Wynne a proper handshake. He wasn't going to stop her. Wynne may be trying to make nice, but she's fairly transparent when she goes straight for him. She wasn't fooling him.

But with the arrival of the ever so smooth Ross, Petra's attention was swiftly drawn to a more interesting companion. Not that Tobias blamed her or anything. She deserved to enjoy the night, as much as humanly possible. Wynne raised her champagne to meet his own that was extended towards her. "Please. Just Wynne will do." Tobias wasn't one for jokes like some of the others at the academy. If he was, he'd probably make some dumb remark referring to her as 'just Wynne.' But he wasn't. Instead he simply nodded his head in understanding before taking a sip of champagne.

"So, Tobias. I don't know if you've ever been the new kid - goodness knows I've been that person too many times - but each school has its own culture, and though I might not have the chance to fit in fully given my short time here I thought it'd be nice to hear from a student. What's the Academy like? Do you like it? What do you guys do?"

Tobias tried his best not to laugh coldly at the comment. Instead swirling his drink for a long moment. Be on your best behavior. Not that he was overly a dick like Wren Wilson or Thaleia, but he wasn't by any means the friendliest either. But, being friendly or at least cordial to Wynne was in the benefit of the academy. So he sighed softly, looking down at the ground for a moment. "Every day I feel like the new kid here." He didn't say it coldly or with a harsh bitterness. Just as a simple fact as if someone was asking him his age or favorite color.

He wasn't looking for pity or sympathy, but Tobias wasn't the type to lie either. There never seemed to be a purpose for that. She asked her questions, and now she will get her answers. He turned to face Wynne fully, tucking his free hand into his tuxedo jacket. "I do not believe I am the person to give you the answers you seek. Someone like you, a child of a hero would fit in much better than I do... And I've been here for years."

"It's better than where I was before this. Generally, everyone is treated equally... But, there are exceptions." Tobias didn't expand on that. Wynne seemed like a smart girl, and if she couldn't gather his meaning then it was her loss. "We spend most of our time training in simulations that test us on different levels." He sighed shrugging his shoulders. "If you're not going to be here long, as you say... Then why worry yourself over it? I hate to be the bearer of bad news but... The fact that you're being planted into the academy by the U.N. doesn't make it all that likely for you to make friends."

Tobias wasn't trying to be harsh or heartless but he didn't feel the need to filter or sugar coat his thoughts either. She wanted to know what she was going to get into. "Sure some people will be nice to you out of obligation... Or the rare few like Frankie Parker who doesn't have a mean bone in her body. But most likely, people will skirt around you like they do with me." And that was the truth of it. Son of Magneto, mutant planted in the academy to assess how they function? Neither one is that appealing. But, Wynne still had a better chance at making friends than he ever did.

With nothing more to add to her onslaught of questions, Tobias raised his champagne flute to his lips. He took a long drink, glancing over his shoulder towards the dance floor. He was a bit surprised at how many people are started to join. Although, most of them looked to be students. Smart. You can't particularly approach someone and bombard them with questions while they are dancing with someone else. Well, you could but it'd be very rude.

Then out of nowhere there was a loud, abrupt bang that shook the entire building. Instantly, Tobias turned towards the explosion, placing himself in front of Wynne. He planted his feet as firmly as he could and raised his hands up before him. With all the power he could manage, he stopped the pieces of metal shrapnel, while trying hold himself firm in his place. He wasn't able to block it all, just what was coming towards himself and a few others in the general area. Every piece of metal he stopped, fused together building shields to block those around him. But, that didn't stop pieces of concrete, glass and other non metal debris from flying towards him.

Tobias held it until the explosion died down, and everything within the hall settled. He exhaled deeply, releasing his hold as he fell to his knees. The makeshift metal shields collapsed to ground when he seized his control. His breathing was heavy and labored. When he finally looked down, a piece of glass the size of a cellphone was lodged in his left side, along with other tiny pieces of debris everywhere else. He didn't have time to pick any of it out, or try to help others to safety. The moment everything went quiet, a helicraft was hovering at the gaping hole in the tower, and the room was quickly filled with dozens of knock out bombs.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself, his left hand clutching his side. Between the knockout gas and the amount of blood loss from the wound, Tobias wasn't going to have strength for much longer. He looked towards the hole, watching as numerous Hydra soldiers flooded into the ballroom. He slowly stumbled to his feet, looking around through the dense smoke for Thaddeus Ross. Once Tobias found him, he waved his hand causing a metal box to entrap Thaddeus and the closest officials so that no one could get to them.

"Lehnsherr!" Several sets of footsteps came to a halt behind him. The sounds of gun safeties switching off and laser sights buzzing alerter him to the guns pointed at him. Tobias raised his hands in the air as he slowly turned around to face a dozen Hydra soldiers. After a second he gave his hands a quick flick... But nothing happened.

"Do you honestly think we didn't learn anything from your father?"

Tobias swept his right hand through the air in front of him, sending a table flying towards the soldier, knocking them over like bowling pins. He waved his index finger in a circle causing a metal chair to unravel and wrap itself around one of the Hydra men. Then with a push of Tobias' hand, the man shot backwards through the hole and plummeted to the bottom of the harbor. He started coughing as his vision began to get spots from the gas. He slowly limped his way forward, extending his hand towards another guard attempting to suck the iron from the man's blood.

But Tobias was too weak. Blood began to drip from his nose, while even more seeped through his fingers that clutched at his abdomen. While distracted with the man in front of him, he didn't notice the soldier that approached him from behind. Something slammed him hard in the back, wrapping around his body like a cobra. He screamed out when the tendrils pushed the piece of glass deeper into him as the fingers of the mechanism entrapped him. Without being able to control his own body, whatever was on him forced Tobias to his knees, with his arms extended behind him in a rigid pose.

"You can thank Kamar-Taj for that lovely piece of equipment," a cocky Hydra soldier said as he squatted down in front of Tobias. He gave the piece of machinery a flick. "The Crimson Bands of Cyttorak... Or Plastic Bands of Cyttorak if you want to get technical." The man stood up, and patted Tobias' cheek. "We figured you'd be a handful. I didn't think it'd actually be this easy."

Another soldier quickly joined them, looking between his companion and Tobias. "Are we taking him too?"

"Are you kidding?" The other responded, digging out a syringe from his utility pack. "We're already going to have the academy breathing down our necks. Do you really wanna have to deal with the Brotherhood too?" The man jabbed the syringe into Tobias' neck, injecting him with a powerful tranquilizer.

Tobias' eyelids quickly grew heavy, as the sounds around him started to mumble and blend together. "Have a nice sleep, Mr. Lehnsherr." The soldier then raised his gun, slamming the butt of the rifle into Tobias' head, instantly knocking him out cold.

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frankie parker
spidermanx|xoutfitx|x#FF0057

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The pure happiness in Nathaniel's smile made Frankie's own grin grow, along with a soft flush upon her cheeks. She wasn't expecting him to look that happy, but it only helped calm some of her nerves. Nathaniel had always been sweet and kind to her. Frankie never understood why people were so scared of him, because in her eyes he was a gentle giant. Maybe he was a powerful weapon, but she knew he'd never hurt her.

Her gaze fell slightly as Nathaniel took her hand, moving it so that it rested in the bend of his arm. Frankie smiled to herself, unable to help but imagine what he might dance like. With his size, she wouldn't be surprised if he was kind of awkward. Not that it'd bother her, she'd still dance with him like nothing was wrong. While they walked towards the dance floor, Frankie couldn't help but notice his nerves. She raised her free hand and gently patted his arm while flashing him a reassuring smile.

As they reached the dance floor, Nathaniel slowly turned to face her. His left hand took her right. Frankie couldn't help from holding her breath as his right hand moved to rest upon the small of her back. She swallowed and took a step towards him. Her left hand slowly moved up his arm until it rested upon his broad shoulder. Frankie hadn't paid much attention to how much larger Nathaniel was until this moment. Even in heels, she found herself still standing on her toes slightly. She quickly grew nervous, hoping her mermaid styled dress wouldn't inhibit her ability to keep up with his larger strides.

Frankie finally let herself breathe as Nathaniel began leading them in the waltz. Thankfully, her dad danced with her when she was younger, giving her a little taste of what it was like. Of course, Frankie was standing on his feet, but it was still practice none the less. She couldn't help but giggle softly when she saw Nate look down at his feet, checking the steps. "It's ok," she whispered up at him with a smile. "You're not stepping on my feet."

They danced in silence for awhile, finding their groove with the beat of the song, weaving between the other couples on the dance floor. She felt Nathaniel move in closer to her, causing Frankie to look up at him. He leaned his head down so that his cheek brushed hers and his lips were next to her ear. Her heart skipped a beat, as her hands subconsciously gripped his hand and shoulder tighter. "Thank you for saying yes..." Before she could reply, Nate spoke again, his breath tickling her ear slightly. "I don't know what else to say other than you look too beautiful for words."

Frankie's cheeks flushed, unable to fight the smile that spread across her face. Then Nathaniel gently slid his hand from her back and guided her in a spin. Frankie couldn't help but giggle as she twirled under his arm while holding his hand. Nate gently pulled her back towards him, her free hand returning to its place upon his shoulder. He leaned in, speaking quietly to her one more time. "And it's not only today." Frankie moved closer to him, hiding half of her face in his shoulder. She wasn't able to stop smiling or hide the bright flush that covered her cheeks.

She couldn't help how happy she felt in that moment. Frankie and Nathaniel had known each other for such a long time. She had noticed her own crush brewing for quite sometime now, but Nate was so hard to read. One day she felt like they were on the same page, and other days she worried that he only saw her as a little sister. Frankie was still surprised he approached her for a dance. It was like the instance he did, her whole conversation with Thaddeus earlier just melted away. It wasn't important anymore. This was.

But just her luck... It couldn't last longer than a fleeting moment. Frankie felt the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand up. Her spidey sense was tingling off the charts. Her body froze, bringing the waltz to a screeching halt. She quickly tried to catch back up with Nathaniel, but her body was rigid. Frankie allowed herself to drift back from him, just enough so that she could look up at him. "My spidey sense," she whispered, a concerned look on her face. "It's never been this strong before." She was going to suggest that they should leave, or at least move off of the dance floor, but it was too late.

The force of the explosion hit Frankie like a wave. It instantly knocked her off her feet and sent her fly backwards. When she slammed into the wall, she quickly pressed her hands to the surface, keeping herself from falling. She tucked her head behind one of her arms, trying to block herself from the blast. But no matter how strong her hands held, Frankie still began to slip, unable to get a grip through her heels. She kicked off her shoes, accidentally tearing her dress up the side as her toes pressed against the wall.

When everything beneath her started to settle, Frankie released her grip on the wall. She landed on the ground quietly in a crouching position. As she stood, her eyes quickly scanned the devastation that was the ball room. Frankie started to panic when she couldn't see Nathaniel. Her attention was so focused, that she didn't notice the helicraft move into place or even the gas grenades until one stopped on the ground before her. She quickly picked it up and threw it towards the onslaught of Hydra soldiers.

Frankie winced when the projectile left her hand. A burning sensation quickly began to cover her palm. Insecticide. Mixed in with all those other toxins and gases, the Hydra soldiers also laced the grenades with insecticides. Anything else, and Frankie would be unaffected. But this quickly washed over her. The moment the smoke surrounded her, she began coughing hysterically. Frankie grew weak at a rapid rate. She tried her best to get away, but her feet felt like they were held down by weights. She stumbled through the debris, until she bumped into an over turned table and fell to the ground.

She gasped for air, crawling on all fours. Just when she thought she couldn't move any farther, Frankie was snatched up two Hydra soldiers. They each held one of her arms as they dragged her towards the whole in the wall. It took a moment for hrt to register what exactly was happening. Then what little bit of energy Frankie had left, she began thrashing against their hold. "Nate!" she screamed out. No matter how hard she fought, in her weakened state she was no match for the soldiers holding her. "Let me go!" she cried, digging her heels into the ground trying to stop them. "NATE!"




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ross mcculloch
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The second Petra turned to face Ross, his heart skipped a beat. She was without a doubt, the most beautiful woman at the gala that night. And he'd fight anyone who argued otherwise. Her face almost seemed to light up when she saw him, which helped put some of his nerves at ease. She even complimented him... And being the idiot he was, he rambled on afterwards. But he was sure his blushing cheeks and smile that didn't know how to chill probably said he was thankful for the compliment.

She seemed to take awhile after he asked her to dance. Ross started to worry that he shouldn't have asked, or he miss read signs from her. Petra finished her champagne and passed it off, while he stood there waiting. He might have looked relatively calm on the outside but was moderately freaking out inside.

"I would love to dance. But before that..." Petra finally answered. Ross' gaze dropped to her hands as she moved them to his necktie. His eyes widened and cheeks flushed when she adjusted it. Had it been wrong this whole time!?

He raised his gaze to hers, giving a weak apologetic smile. "Thanks, Red."

"Don't you have any mirrors?" she asked, her fingers resting at his collar for a moment.

Ross laughed softly, nodding his head. "'Course aye do. Maybeh it was all part of meh evil plan." He raised his brows, grinning mischievously. Of course, it wasn't. But little did Petra know, this was the first time he ever had the need to actually wear a necktie. Thieves don't usually find the need to dress black tie formal.

"Now about that dance you asked for..." Petra took his hand and he smiled. Ross slowly lead her to the clearing in the hall that must have been designated for dancing. If it wasn't, then the academy could get over it. From what he could tell there was already a handful of partners taking advantage of the space. "How are you finding the party so far?"

Before answering, Ross grinned playfully. Then in a smooth manner, he gave Petra a spin not caring who was watching. After she made her turn, his other hand moved to her back and gently guided her closer to him. "Aye may have just gotten 'ere like five minutes 'go." He laughed. He couldn't help himself. Ross saw how beautiful Petra looked, and had to ask her to dance before someone else beat him to it. "But, its significantly improved since aye arrived." And that was the truth.

Ross wasn't the most conventional person by any means. Whatever he was doing, well it wasn't the waltz. But they were dancing. It's not like he was uncoordinated or anything. He just preferred to have fun while dancing instead of being all proper and uppity. He didn't care who was watching, as long as he wasn't being a total arse in front of Petra and she was enjoying herself, that's all that matter. So whenever the tempo in the song picked up, Ross would release her waist to spin her. Sometimes, even dipping her, if he felt so inclined. The entire time, he couldn't remove the smile from his face.

When he brought Petra close to him once again, Ross let them dance calmly for a minute. "How's all de...?" He wiggled his fingers next to his head, referring to her telepathic ability. "'m sure it's not easy wit all these people here." He moved with her slowly, looking around at the numerous people who cluttered the hall. "If ye get tired of holdin' up yer barriers... Ye can always focus on my mind." Ross smiled sweetly. "Not much is goin' on up there, ya know... Besides you."

Then his gut twisted into a knot making him want to vomit. Why did he say that? God, he sounded like such an idiot. He wanted to kick himself for opening his big stupid mouth. Don't tell the girl you think about her. Probably sounds creepy or stalker-ish... Or whatever. He didn't let his face show how mad he was at himself, but wasn't able to hide the flushing that crept up to his cheeks as he looked away from her. "Aye'm glad you brought Tobias. Mycroft was a total arse earlier." He tried to quickly divert the conversation before he put his foot in his mouth again.

When the song came to an end, Ross' heart sank a little. Hopefully Petra didn't walk away, and decided to stick around for another dance. But he wouldn't pry. She probably has other people she wants to socialize with, not just him. No matter how much he wanted that second dance, it wasn't going to happen. Not that night anyways. Ross looked down at Petra with a smile and parted his lips to thank her for the dance.

BOOM!

It felt like an instant earth quake shook the tower down to its very core as a hole was ripped into the side of the building. It all happened in the blink of an eye. Ross tried to move himself in front of Petra but it was futile. The explosion ripped through the room like a tidal wave sending everyone and everything flying. Ross was flung backwards knocking into a table and some chairs before the wall stopped him.

Ross laid there for a moment in a daze, stars in his vision and ringing in his ears. He coughed as he shifted a top the rubble, moving to all fours. He squinted his eyes, looking around for Petra. When he saw her several feet away, Ross stumbled to his feet and ran over to her. He slid to his knees beside her. His eyes scanned her body for any serious injuries. "Red! Are y'ok?! Are ya hurt?" He reached out, carefully trying to help her sit up. His right hand moved to brush her hair from her face as he continued to inspect her.

His body tensed when he heard the helicraft lower to the level of the opening in the tower. When Ross saw numerous gas grenades get tossed into the ballroom, he switched like a light becoming more alert and quick on his feet. As fast as he could, he pulled off his blazer and ripped it down the middle. Ross handed one half to Petra. "Hurry, cover yer face," he whispered towards her. He then took the sleeve off of the other half and wrapped it around his face, tying it behind his head. Ross knew this wouldn't stop the gases forever but it'd slow their effect down. He didn't quite have the time to ask Petra if she was immune to toxins, so he decided it was better safe than sorry.

Trying to remain as quiet as possible, Ross slid over to the nearest overturned table. Placing his feet against the flat surface, with a couple jerks he was able to get one of the legs free. He kept himself crouched down behind the table, watching as the Hydra soldiers started to spread out. When one them walked past him, Ross stood up and slammed his makeshift weapon down on the back of the guys head. Once the guy was on the ground, he yanked off his helmet, chucking it across the room. Ross pinned him down, then smacked the butt of the table leg into the soldier's nose, knocking him out.

Ross could feel the gases slowly starting to effect him, seeping through the sleeve wrapped around his face. He tried not to cough as he snuck up behind more guards. "Wren Wilson has been apprehended," one of the men said.

"Who else do we—there's the Maximoff girl!" another said, pointed his gloved hand at Petra.

Without a moment's hesitation, he struck the table leg into the back of the soldier's legs. As the man fell, Ross grabbed the guy by the head and slammed their face into his knee, then kicked him in the jaw. He ducked when another Hydra soldier went to throw the butt of their gun into Ross' head. As he dropped, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the compact mirror he grabbed before leaving his penthouse earlier. "'m sorry," Ross mouthed towards Petra. He opened the compact and slid it across the ground like a hockey puck. The moment the mirror touched Petra, it sucked her inside and closed shut.

Ross let out a sigh of relief just before a steal toed boot clocked him right in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. He rolled over onto his side, coughing and spitting up blood. The soldier moved to stand over him, grabbing a fist full of his shirt. "Where is she!?" he demanded.

Ross smiled a bloody grin. "Suck me cock ya piece of shite." He laughed until it turned to more coughing.

Furious, the Hydra soldier punched him. Then continued, again and again. The man hit Ross so many times that he lost count after three and the one that broke his nose. He would have fought back, but the effects of the knock out gases were already too strong. But that didn't stop him from laughing in their faces after every hit.

The guy went to hit him again, but was stopped by an approaching soldier. "Forget about him and the girl. We have to go!"

The soldier who held Ross up growled out of frustration. He forcefully pushed him down on the ground and turned to leave. But just before he left, the guy turned around, landing one last powerful kick straight into Ross' ribs.

He couldn't move, and was barely able to breath with a nose broken and the wind knocked out of him. Through bloody gasps, Ross pointed his index finger towards the leaving Hydra soldier. "'m not done with..." His hand fell to the ground as the gases finally over powered him, causing him to black out.





D I S C L A I M E R

I'm putting this here because sometimes we forget to read the OOC. (It's ok, I do it too lol) These are just somethings to remember when posting with the plot ordeal with Hydra. Those of you who knew this was coming, this is more of a refresher. Everyone else, I just wanted to tack this here just in case :)

x The only characters getting kidnapped/taken by Hydra are one's where I've discussed it with the writer. If you really want one of your characters snatched up, PM me and we can talk about it. But know that Hydra isn't interested in any humans, and want people with specifically unique and strong abilities. Which is why I've chosen who I have so far.

x Anyone who doesn't have a toxin immunity will be knocked unconscious by the gas and it works fastest on humans.

xSadly, we can't save any of the people getting taken. But feel free to have your characters try. You can have them kick ass, scream, cry and whatever else you like :) The world is your oyster!

x Lastly, once everyone is kidnapped, there will be a minor time jump until the next morning when everyone who was knocked out is waking up, etc. But no need to worry about that, because I'll initiate it. So, feel free to have your characters get injured, knocked out, beaten up... Or chase the Hydra assholes away like a maniac. All is possible :D

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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#, as written by barnes
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ImageWhatever Ross was doing, it definitely wasn't the waltz. But Petra followed his lead, sensing his confidence, and she had to admit dancing was a lot more fun when she didn't have to remember to watch her steps.

"Aye may have just gotten 'ere like five minutes 'go. But, it's significantly improved since aye arrived," he said in response to her question. She would have answered in kind, except he dipped her suddenly, and she had to focus on keeping her mouth shut to avoid revealing her surprise.

The music gradually slowed, and so did the dance, the two of them moving easily in tandem. "How's all de...?" Ross began. Petra tilted her chin up, requesting more context, which came in the form of him wiggling his fingers by his temples. "'m sure it's not easy wit all these people here." She shook her head and smiled, grateful that he'd remembered. "I'm getting better at blocking it all out, but you know thoughts - they just keep coming."

"If ye get tired of holdin' up yer barriers... Ye can always focus on my mind. Not much is goin' on up there, ya know... Besides you." His smile was so sweet and so genuine that she couldn't help smiling back, surprised at the offer. What an oddly adorable offer to make.

The blush working its way up his neck didn't escape her notice, nor did his sudden averted gaze. "Aye'm glad you brought Tobias. Mycroft was a total arse earlier."

"Oh. Uh, yeah." She decided to run with the change in topic - if Ross had felt so negatively about his remark earlier she wouldn't pursue it. "I'm glad he decided to come. This school - this administration," Petra amended, shaking her head - it wasn't everyone's fault - "has not been kind to him. It's not his fault. We're descended from the same man, except he's closer. And look how much of a difference that one generation has made."

The song ended far too soon, and their feet slowed to a stop on the floor. Looking up into Ross's face, Petra felt bad about letting the offer slide earlier. If he'd asked, the least she could do was respond, and pretending that he hadn't said anything would be incredibly rude of her. Of course she'd love to focus on him. Petra, no - He was all she wanted to focus on, just to forget everything else going on around her.

BOOM.

The force of the blast struck Petra before she'd even had time to register what had happened. It was as though her senses of the world around her had suddenly been reduced to a few snapshots: flying debris, Ross with his arms stretched out towards her, the room moving away suddenly. No, that was an illusion - it was Petra who was being thrown backwards. Fortunately (or unfortunately) there was nothing in her way, and she went straight into the wall, unable to catch herself midair or even attempt to cushion the fall with her magic.

The blow caused her to black out for a minute, losing all sense of what was happening around her while her brain attempted to sort itself out. When she came to, it was to Ross talking frantically. It took a moment longer for her hearing to return, but she could understand well enough what he was trying to say. "I'm fine. What happened?" With some help from Ross, she managed to sit up, though she felt like screaming at the pain that throbbed suddenly through her back and head.

When she was properly upright, she looked around. It was chaos, debris lying everywhere, tables lying overturned, people prone on the floor. What scared her the most, though, was that despite her mental barriers dropping the moment she'd been knocked unconscious, everything was a lot quieter than it originally was.

Then the helicraft appeared outside the hole in the wall and it got worse. Smoke grenades were thrown in and Ross leapt into action, tearing his blazer up so they could both have something cover their faces with. Thinking quickly, she tried to manipulate the air particles around them so that the gas would take longer to reach them. She couldn't hold it off forever but she could try to buy a little more time. While Ross found himself a makeshift weapon, she knelt behind the table, trying her best to manage the gas swirling around so her classmates would have a better fighting chance - but it wasn't enough. She couldn't keep the gas away, manipulate their luck, and attack the soldiers all at once, and the shock of her injuries had weakened her.

But she did what she could. Still pressing Ross's torn blazer to her face, she used her free hand to target whoever she could, firing blasts strong enough to knock them over. Watching her classmates get hurt, yet being unable to help them all, she cursed her own powerlessness, wishing that she could do more.

When she turned back, Ross was already gone, caught in combat with another soldier. She had no time to react as he tossed his compact at her, knowing too late what was happening. "Ross McCulloch, don't you dare -"

The sensation was no less strange as it had been the first time. Everything shrank away from Petra in an instant, and before she knew it she was staring at a glass shard, out at the fighting, while she was trapped inside.

"No!" Desperate, she banged her palms against the glass, which stayed solid. All around her were multiple shards reflecting different angles of the ballroom, all equally as unyielding. All another plane of the dimension she was trapped in.

Turning this way and that, Petra was treated to scenes of various people caught in battle - but one in particular caught her attention. She supposed it must have been through the visor of one of the soldier's helmets. It showed Ross being punched, again and again and again, laughing even as blood spurted from his broken nose. "Ross, no," she cried brokenly, her fists beating uselessly against the glass. When the soldier's point of view lifted, showing her the rest of the room, she tried to shove an energy blast through, hoping that it could at least pass through the dimensional barrier. No dice - nothing would go through without Ross's gun.

One final kick to Ross's prone form, and the scene before Petra swung around as the soldier headed back to the Hydra helicraft. Petra's knees wobbled and buckled under her, sending her to the floor in a heap. Face buried in her hands, suddenly despondent, she could only sob helplessly, surrounded by visions of pain and fear.


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ImageTo say that Solberg - excuse me, Sol - wasn't anything Riley had ever expected of a United Nations official was something of an understatement. The man was relaxed, genuine and, if Riley wasn't mistaken, flirting with him.

"So, you know, I had to come, but I thought it'd be incredibly boring - UN dinner functions almost always are, the absolute worst - but we did forget who's throwing this party. They might be more upstanding members of the community now, but Stark and Wayne did always know how to be good hosts. I'm a little jealous of the Worthington girl, really, I'd love to stay on here. Just standing around open-mouthed at everything you guys can do."

"Mr - uh, Sol," Riley tried to interrupt as nicely as he could, but his intentions were misunderstood. Sol only leaned in, and continued talking.

"There's no need to be modest, I know what your father used to call himself! Does self-deprecation run in the family? Carnie or not, you must have had some amount of talent to make it this far. Were you at Xavier's before? Oh, no, the Avengers trained you, that makes it all the more impressive..."

Something very wrong was going on. Riley didn't have Spidey sense like Frankie, but he did have very good intuition, and there was an abject sense of wrongness in the air. He got to his feet, not wanting to be caught off guard.

It was a surprise anyway. An explosion ripped through the room, sending Riley and Sol flying through the air. They were already fairly close to the wall, and Riley's back struck it hard, knocking the breath out of him. He lay stunned for a minute, barely able to think, ears ringing, little bolts of white shooting across his vision. He couldn't fully understand the situation, but before he really thought about it he was turning over and sitting up. Sol was lying a short distance away, pinned under a table. Distantly, Riley noted that it was the table they'd been sitting at just a minute ago, judging by the splash of red wine staining the tablecloth. No doubt from Sol's unfinished glass. Later it would be a moment he'd remember with startling clarity, but for now there was only one thing on his mind - to get Sol out, and then come back and help who he could. The students could probably handle themselves, but there was a whole party of humans that probably couldn't fight for nuts.

By the time Riley got to his feet and hurried over to the unconscious official, smoke was filling the room, obscuring his vision and clouding his lungs. He began coughing, trying to press his sleeve over his mouth and nose. No dice. As human as he was, he had better endurance, so, crouching behind the table Sol had so recently been pinned under, he ripped two swatches of fabric from the tablecloth and tied them around Sol's face first, then his own.

Cursing his lack of weapons, Riley peered out from behind the table, trying to figure out a plan of action. The Hydra soldiers didn't seem too interested in him, aiming for a select few students. Riley's heart sank, knowing he couldn't help save them. But there was something else he could do.

Debris littered the floor around them. Lots of cement, some cloth of various origins - but more importantly, glass. And Riley didn't need a bow and arrow to be a sharp shot. He picked up a few good-sized shards of glass, stashing them in his blazer pocket. No point drawing attention right now. Already Sol was beginning to cough and choke behind him - a good sign that he was coming to, but also serving to draw the toxic gas further into his lungs.

Riley hefted Sol upright, managing most of his weight. The man was coming to, his grip around Riley's shoulders tightening. "Hey, if you can hear me... I'm getting you out of here. Hang on for a little longer." He tried to keep close to the wall, avoiding drawing attention as much as possible.

"Hey!" The shout stopped Riley dead - one of the soldiers had stepped directly into his path. Riley was tall, but this guy was taller, and decked out in riot gear with no visible weak points.

Thinking quickly, Riley lashed out, kicking his right leg out to clip the soldier's jaw. The soldier's head snapped backwards, and his helmet came loose, exposing some of his neck. With one arm around Sol, Riley gripped one of his glass shards between two fingers and snapped it towards the exposed sliver of flesh. His shot was true, embedding itself deep in the soldier's jugular, who stumbled backward with a strangled cry. No time to stick around and finish the job - Riley kicked him backward, smashing his heel into the soldier's now-exposed nose, and hurried on with Sol.

Almost out the ballroom... Through the chaos, he passed a familiar figure. "Andrew! Little bit of help, please," he gasped, gesturing at the official on his shoulder. "Just gotta get him outside, then we can come back for the others..."

He managed to make it to the exit, one foot out the door. Yet suddenly Sol's weight, the toxic gas, the aches from being flung against the wall, everything came crashing down on Riley. He was only so human. His legs went weak, the world wobbled, and everything was tilting as it faded into the darkness. Riley went crashing to the floor, unconscious.


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Image Image ImagexW 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




Image"Every day I feel like the new kid here. I do not believe I am the person to give you the answers you seek. Someone like you, a child of a hero would fit in much better than I do... And I've been here for years." He said it matter-of-factly, looking at her steadily. Wynne didn't attempt to explain himself, merely let him continue talking. "If you're not going to be here long, as you say... Then why worry yourself over it? I hate to be the bearer of bad news but... The fact that you're being planted into the Academy by the U.N. doesn't make it all that likely for you to make friends." Hurtful, but true. No matter which mutant community she tried to make herself a part of, the identity of United Nations delegate would always hover over her, and she'd be branded a spy wherever she went. Among her own kind, a mole and a blood traitor - among the other kind, half of her own heritage, a freak and an outcast, only useful when they needed a cuckoo's egg. "But most likely, people will skirt around you like they do with me."

His tone was final, and so rooted in its surety that Wynne almost laughed. What an idea to have about her, Wynne Kinsley Worthington, the girl who was homeschooled by the best teachers money could buy until she was of university age because her parents feared her becoming a target for both her wings and her status; the girl whose father used to go on secret trips to some secluded forest with her to teach her how to fly because he didn't want anyone accusing him of developing another weapon, because her wings would atrophy and wither away if they weren't used; the girl who was repeatedly ostracised even in university, the insults and fear following her wherever she went, even from her own professors; the girl who'd, like her father before her, attempted to cut her own wings off, and when that didn't work began turning her blade to other parts; the girl who'd overcome all other odds to become one of, if not the youngest United Nations delegate in history. People will skirt around you didn't even begin to cover it.

Not that she'd ever tell him as much, though. That was her burden to bear by virtue of being Warren Worthington's blood, and she wasn't going to complain about the circumstances of her birth.

Then a blast shook the building. Instinctively, the way they'd always done when she was younger and lacked impulse control, her wings unfurled from their tightly tucked position to envelop her. They weren't as sturdy as her father's, but worked in a pinch to protect her face and head. Most of the debris that came her way struck her wings and bounced off, but some shards stuck fast, slicing and sticking where they landed. Wynne cried out in pain as blood spots marred the grey feathers, and lowered her wings gently, letting them drag on the floor beside her.

A sudden movement on her right drew her attention. Tobias Lehnsherr was on his knees, a path of metal pieces in front of him, and Wynne instinctively knew what he'd done. For her, a stranger and quite likely the enemy, from his point of view.

"Tobias," she called, only at that moment the whirring of a helicraft filled the room. It pulled up alongside the gigantic hole blasted in the wall, and smoke bombs were tossed in.

In a panic, Wynne backed away, her wings extending to their fullest. Her only goal was to avoid breathing in the gases, and so she did the only thing she could think to do in that instant.

Her wings began to beat a heavy rhythm. The force lifted her a couple of feet off the ground, and she tucked her arms close to her body to avoid hindering their movement. At their full length, her wings were a sight to behold, cutting through the air to fan the toxic gases away from herself. She didn't need to press cloth to her face like the other students, or gas masks like the soldiers. For a moment, buoyed by her adrenaline, she almost forgot the danger, suspended in midair, doing what she was supposed to do. What she was born to do.

"Don't hurt her!" Wynne spun around to find a line of soldiers advancing on her. One ordered, "That's Worthington's kid. She'll be worth something for sure." He laughed at his own bad joke, readying a syringe. "Although I'm not sure her wings are really any use, if she's busy folding them out of sight for the United Nations."

The first shot went wide as Wynne descended quickly to plant both feet back on the floor. The second shot tore through the wrist of her left wing. Blood spattered on the floor behind her and ran thickly through the feathers below, and for a moment Wynne's vision went white with pain. She lashed out, sweeping her uninjured wing across the line of soldiers, knocking them down like a row of pins, then expelled feathers from her wings like projectiles at the ones that were still standing, slashing indiscriminately.

She was close to the doors. If she could only...

It came from one of the soldiers still in the hall. A bullet pierced her side, lodging there. She screamed, falling against the wall. Almost there. Almost there. It kept repeating in her mind, as though by stepping foot out the door she could be home safe.

"Leave her! We've got what we came for. Let's go," the same soldier from earlier called behind her. Whoever it was that had targeted her backed off, heading back for the helicraft. Half-formulated prayers all she could think of as she struggled to leave, the toxic gases had still entered her system anyway. One hand still pressed to her bleeding torso, her knees finally gave way, and she slumped against the wall, legs folded underneath her, wings still dripping gore onto the floor.


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ImageAlec's hands were unexpectedly warm, almost scorching where one enveloped Jensen's hand, and one rested at the small of her back. "Yet... Here you are dancing with me having to stare at my face for a whole song, sugar," he returned without missing a beat, twirling her around. Jensen laughed, trying not to blush, and decided that she could be a little charitable for the night, given the occasion.

"Your mother trained you well," she agreed, trying to follow his lead closely so she didn't tread on his feet. It happened anyway, her foot landing squarely on top of his as she stepped the wrong way. "Sorry! I seem to be causing a lot of damage tonight." Her rueful grin made it clear that there was no ill intention, only her own uneasiness. "You know, I've been thinking -"

She was interrupted by an explosion. There was hardly any time to react, only to push Alec behind her and raise her arms to shield her head, digging her heels in to keep her ground. Bits of concrete and metal flew in her direction, scoring her forearms in crimson.

It was over as quickly as it had started, and when Jensen looked down she saw that her heels had gouged lines in the floor from her strength. Far more concerning, though, was the damage done to the wall - a hole had been blown through it, revealing the sky outside. She turned to Alec, panicked. "Are you okay? Can you -" This time, she stopped herself short, acutely aware of what was wrong. He doesn't have his hat.

As if on cue, as if she'd just asked the universe to give her something worse, a helicraft pulled up alongside the new exit to the ballroom, ejecting first smoke bombs and then soldiers in full riot gear. Jensen's heart stopped cold, and she glanced around, trying to assess the situation.

"Alec - Alec, listen to me, cover your nose and get out of here right now," she said clearly, pushing him in the direction of the doors. With all her abilities intact, she could perhaps buy a little time, even against that whole swarm of soldiers if she had to.

She took a step forward, and her foot finally landed wrong, the one action she'd been fearing all night. Her ankle twisted, the muscles protesting loudly as it sprained. Oh god, those stupid shoes. Without bothering with the straps, Jensen reached down and yanked them off, the ribbons breaking at the root.

Already she could feel the gases' effect taking place, seeping into her bloodstream and clouding her brain. Not so much that she still couldn't function, though. Taking a running start, she leapt onto a soldier's shoulders, twisting in midair so they both went crashing to the ground. Reaching down, she grabbed his head and snapped his neck cleanly.

Something zipped past her. She turned, distracted, and met Wren's eyes as she was pulled past, some kind of contraption around her...protruding through her body...

Then she saw where the line attached to her best friend ended. "Wren! No!" she cried, horrified, starting to sprint towards her. But it was too late - Wren landed inside the helicraft, and Jensen could only watch as her head was twisted the same way she'd just done to the soldier lying lifeless at her feet.

She had to get to Wren. That was the only way she could fix this all. She began cleaving a path through people and debris alike, launching herself at whatever target she could find. Years of training and practice went out the window as she kicked and punched wherever she could reach, which wasn't a very good strategy but worked, for the most part...

Until she miscalculated, and received a well-placed fist to her jaw for her troubles, a blow that sent her reeling backwards and snapped her lip into her teeth, warm blood spurting into her mouth almost immediately. She spat it aside, and prepared to retaliate, jabbing her elbow in the soldier's direction - but he was too fast. Weakened by the gases, the pain of her injuries (there was probably a cracked rib among that number), and the shock of seeing what had happened to Wren, Jensen was no match for her opponent, who was faster and had more defensive gear on his side. Her caught her elbow and pulled her forward (remembering how Alec had pulled her towards him just minutes ago) so she went sprawling, hitting the floor with her hands and elbows first. Before she could get back up he was on her, pressing his knees into the small of her back.

Something thin and unspeakably cold pierced the skin of her neck, and right before she passed out she registered someone slamming her head forward, breaking her nose in one go.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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Whatever Jensen had to say to him was clearly on hold. Just as the blast hit them, Jensen managed to shield Alec with her body. Better her than him since only one of them was going to heal quickly. Bits and pieces of shrapnel flew around and some managed to cut him while he coward behind her. Jensen had immediately come to his level once it was over and checked him over. "Are you okay? Can you -" The one fucking time I don't have my hat...

Alec ran a hand through his slicked back hair nonchalantly even though he was freaking out inside. "I'll survive, sweetheart." He flashed his best attempt at a fake smile. Of course, that was before the Hydra assholes decided to drop a smoke bomb into the room. What a great day for Alec to be completely helpless and human. He wasn't sure how he was going to con his way out of this one.

Alec could begin to feel the effects of the gas in the air. He felt himself begin to drift off for a moment when Jensen pulled him to her attention for a moment. "Alec - Alec, listen to me, cover your nose and get out of here right now," she said clearly, pushing him in the direction of the doors. He pulled the handkerchief from his tux and looked back with his eyes drooping still able to flash a smirk. "So long as you promise to share a bottle of whiskey with me when he get out of here alive." He ran towards the door.

He was lying. Alec wasn't going to be the one to make it out of here. He was completely powerless. Human. There was only one thing left to do... pray. He mumbled through the cloth the first prayer that came to mind as he ran past government officials and fellow students being taken down by Hydra soldiers, "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle..." The room began to spin around him. Probably wasn't a good idea to drink so much either.

"Be our protection against the snares and wickedness of the devil..." He could feel his body giving in further and further. "May God rebuke him we humbly pray; and do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the Power of God... He stumbled and fell to the ground as he fought to get back up. "cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirit..." Someone knocked him back down from behind. "I found Constantine. Grab him." Two soldiers circled around and picked him up. "who prowl through the world seeking the ruin of souls..." One of them took the liberty of punching him across the face and he finally faded to black as he was dragged away with the others. Amen.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Xavier Strange Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Zachary Drake Character Portrait: Mia Cage Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

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#, as written by mjolnir
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wren wilson
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frankie parker
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Wren woke with a horrible crick in her neck. She tried to move her right hand to her jaw so that she could pop her neck, but her hand didn't move. It was restrained. She groaned, keeping her eyes shut. What kind of night did I have? She felt like absolute hell, and from what she could tell, her hands were tied up. Cas must have turned out to be a freak in the bed or—

Then it hit her. Like a monstrous tsunami to the face, it smacked her back to reality and her eyes shot open. Head wounds always left her brain fuzzy, no doubt someone breaking her neck would do the same thing.

Wren's eyes darted to either of her hands, they were still attached but restrained. Her arms were held out to either side of her, spread like a bird. Thick metal brackets pinned them to the walls. She groaned, pulling against the cuffs with all the strength she had and nothing. Of course, she didn't have the strength of someone like the hulk, but she'd able to break out of standard metal restraints.

Wren had been captured pretty early on into the Hydra's attack. For the best of her knowledge, she thought she was the only one. But, once she stopped freaking out about her own situation, she finally let herself take in her surroundings. Wren inhaled sharply when she saw others with her. She could handle going through something like this alone, but it is a whole new ballpark when others are involved.

Frankie, Lilith, Caitria, Ulrich, Alec and... Cassius.

She sat there in silent shock. Hydra knew what they were doing, and that was scary. Everyone of them was restrained and bound in just the right ways that would refrain them from being able to use their abilities to escape. They all looked like they were part of the prom from hell.

Wren looked at Lilith who sat across from her. She tried her best to smile, even though it was probably evident that it wasn't the most sincere smile. "I saw you kicking ass back there. Your training is showing... But, when we get out of here, I'll have to teach you how to get out of a choke hold." Her gaze then drifted over to Alec. She didn't really know what to say to him, just looked at him as she tried to keep herself from freaking out.

As Wren's memories slowly started to piece together, the more furious she got. The next thing she remembered was the harpoon. A mother fucking harpoon... Right through the chest. Her gaze fell to her chest, where the abdomen portion of her dress was ripped to shreds. It must have done a number on her because large spider shaped wound was still healing. Within another hour or so it'd be back to normal, but it was definitely the worst injury she's ever sustained... Aside from her neck being snapped.

Then everything that happened before the explosion slowly came back. She remembered dancing, and actually being somewhat happy to be at the gala which was not expected when she went. Wren slowly looked over at Cas, her brows furrowing as she frowned slightly. His restraints didn't look all that spectacular, probably iron, unlike her own. After all, it's not like he had super strength so he didn't need a special arrangement like some of the rest of them. But what he did have that the others didn't, was a gag. How in the hell did Hydra even know about him? Cassius was so new to the Academy, that everyone else in the room wouldn't even know who he was. But somehow Hydra knew, and they had him here.

She got a brief flash of a thought, hearing him call after her in the middle of all the chaos. Did he try to save her? No one tried to save Wren. Her and Mia Cage were some of the most indestructible people at the school. It's was usually assumed that they could handle their own. Wren stared at his arm which had a haphazard bandage around it that was stained crimson. She sighed softly. "I told you to hide," she said quietly to him. "Are you ok?"

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Frankie startled awake, hyperventilating as she looked around frantically. She pulled and tugged at the binds that pinned her to the wall. Why couldn't she break them? She could lift a car and stop a bus... But, she couldn't break out of the cuffs!? It was hard for her to keep a level head while in a helpless situation. In all of her life, she's never once been in a situation where she was completely, one hundred precent out of control and it terrified her.

She couldn't fight the tears that started to run down her cheeks as she continued to struggle against the restraints. Images of the previous night flashed through her head like snapshots going from a dance to the hell that she was in now. Frankie's memories froze on the sight of Nathaniel, falling to his knees when he couldn't save her. The sadness she saw his in his eyes overwhelmed her. "I will find you, Francita. I promise."

Frankie slowly gave up, her thrashing and seizing until she sat there with her head hung in defeat. She sniffled back the tears. She tried to take deep breaths to calm herself down. Overreacting wasn't going to help anything, but how could she not? After a moment, she raised her head to look around the room. "Did anyone see what happened at the Academy?" Her eyes searched all of them for any answers they might have. Although she could guess what the answer was, she still hoped someone knew more than she did.

"Please tell me no one died..." Frankie sighed.




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tobias lehnsherr
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Tobias slowly woke up, his head dizzy and sightly fuzzy. He tried to sit up but before he could even shift, a hand was on his shoulder holding him down against the bed. "Mr. Lehnsherr, you can't make any sudden movements or you'll tear your stitches."

He groaned, looking down at his abdomen. Tobias blinked the grogginess from his eyes as he tried to focus. Bandages were wrapped around his bare torso where he last remembered seeing blood and a piece of glass protruding from his side. He moved his hand to run his fingertips along the wrappings, furrowing his brows slightly. He sighed softly, looking back over to the hand that had held him down, meeting the gaze of a concerned nurse.

"You're going to be fine. The mechanism they put you in pushed the piece of glass further into your side. You suffered some minor internal bleeding, bumps and bruises, but nothing that won't heal over time."

Tobias nodded his head, keeping his hand on his side focused on the field of white that broke up his tattooed abdomen. His gaze slowly drifted to look around the medical wing. Honestly, Tobias had never stepped foot in this part of the academy. He never had to. All the simulations were relatively safe and any injuries he sustained were minor enough to just use a simple first aid kit. The room was stark white, with large windows that looked out over the harbor. But, most of the view was blocked by cranes and construction equipment as work had already begun to fix the hole in the side of the tower.

He looked around the large room, countless beds filled with the injured bodies of his classmates. Many faces he recognized populated the room, and obvious ones were missing. What calm he had started to fade away when he noticed the absence of a particular red head. Disregarding the nurse's warning, he sat up abruptly, holding his side with a groan. He tried to get out of his bed, but was stopped. "Where are the others? Where's Petra!?"

Tobias refused to sit down, nervously scanning each bed again and again, even checking the unharmed students lingered in the room to keep an eye on injured friends. Or maybe they didn't feel comfortable being alone at that particular moment. After all, who would be able to sleep after that? But she wasn't to be found. No red hair anywhere. He reached out his free hand to grab his cell phone on the table beside his bed, quickly cursing when he realized it was hers. "No, no. Where in the hell is she?"

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ross mcculloch
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Ross was out cold. But when he heard Tobias becoming irate in the bed to the left of him, he woke up. Ross looked like death. He didn't get the worst of it like some of the others who were shot or whatever else. But, all of his injuries were cosmetic making him look like the shit end of an elephant. A white plastic form was taped over his broken nose. It didn't hide the deep shades of blue and purple that colored his cheeks and wrapped under his eyes. His left eye was nearly swollen shut with the same sickening color. With any movement of his mouth he felt the split in his lip threaten to reopen.

He could barely open his left eye as he turned his head to look towards Tobias. The tattooed male looked in fairly good condition other than the bandages wrapped around his torso. HIs injuries had to be more internal based on the nervousness of the nurses as they tried to get him to lay back down in his bed. Ross groaned as he placed his hands on the sides of the bed, pushing off of the mattress so that he was sitting up. Breathing hurt, like needles were poking his lungs. He looked down at his bare chest seeing a similar wrap around his own torso, but it wasn't stained with blood. Broken ribs maybe?

Tobias looked over toward Ross, his eyes wide when noticing the Scot was awake. "Ross! Where is Petra? Did they take her?"

Like an alarm in his head, Ross' mind flashed a siren. "Shite!" Without a moment's hesitation, he ripped the IV from his arm. He stumbled out of his bed, knocking over a tray as he caught himself against a table.

Nurses quickly hurried to his side, trying to steady him and move him back into bed. "Mr. McCulloch, you must stay in bed."

Ross, shoved their hands away, pushing past the nurses. "Aye will, just move." It seemed the more nurses he pushed past, the more congregated in front of him. "Move!" They didn't, instead speaking all their calming words as if he was in shock waking up in the hospital. He didn't have the time to explain himself. So, before they could get their hands on him, Ross turned and hurdled Tobias' bed, being sure to jump over his legs and nothing important.

"Sorry, mate!" he called back toward him as he sprinted out of the room in only hospital pants. Every corner he turned, Ross nearly lost his footing and balance, often slamming into the wall with a painful groan. His bare feet smacking against the tiled floors echoed throughout the halls as he ran. He ignored the flaring pain in his chest as his breathing became labored. Ross was terrified the mirror was gone or thrown out. No one would have known there was anything different with that compact compared to any other. Only he would know.

He reached the staircase, taking each flight in a step or two. Ross didn't bother waiting on an elevator. It would take too long and knowing J.A.R.V.I.S., the fucking A.I. wouldn't let him leave the floor and the nurses would quickly catch up with him. As he turned down the hallway towards the ball room, debris littered the floor and caution tape covered the doors. Ross tried his best to tip toe run through the debris, not particularly wanting to cut his feet.

"Mr. McCulloch, this part of the Academy is currently off limits for repairs. If you proceed any farther I will have to alert the mentors."

"Oy, shut up ya fackin' computer," Ross shouted toward the ceiling, waving his hand as if to dismiss the A.I.. He slammed his shoulder into the closest door, throwing it open. The room looked like an utter and complete disaster, but not as bad as it had the night before. The construction crew had already started to clean out all the debris, and there were no longer bodies littered throughout the room.

The closet construction workers froze where they stood, turning to look at Ross. Some dropped what they did, and came at him like trying to catch a cornered wild animal. "Have any of ya found a small compact mirror?" he asked as his eyes frantically searched the room.

"Sir, I think you're just in shock. Would you like to take a seat and we can get you help?"

Ross smacked away one of their hands as they reached out for him. "Don't touch meh unless ya want a broken hand!" The men weren't dumb and knew what building they were in. They didn't know who Ross was or what abilities he possessed, but they didn't seem like they were willing to test it. Smart move.

He pushed past them, trying to scratch the recesses of his mind to remember where she was when he threw the mirror. Ross froze, pressing his finger tips to his temples as he closed his eyes. He let the events of last night replay in his mind until it clicked. He sprinted across the room towards an over turned table. He flipped it out of the way his left hand, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the mirror intact on the ground. He quickly picked it up and flipped it open. Ross then slid his right hand through the mirror, holding it out into the mirror dimension. "Red! It's meh," he said, motioning his hand in a come hither motion. "Come on, take me hand."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Xavier Strange Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Jimmy Storm Character Portrait: Mia Cage Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

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_____Protege of Captain America
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Astrid was one of the first to come around but she stayed seated watching Mia by Xavier's side as an ice pack was pressed to her jaw and she clutched her shoulder. She had been offered pain killers, but with her metabolism the amount to actually kill the pain would risk putting her in a drowsy state and she needed to be their for the others. She needed to be alert.

When they started to come around, most of them freaked or barked what was happening or where certain people were. Understandably.

“Guys, collect yourselves,” Astrid said, barely covering her grimace as her left cheek radiated pain. The staff were just doing their job, in fact aiding them to the best of their ability and being in hysterics wasn't going to help anyone. Not those taken or those laying in beds still recovering.

“We got to screw our heads on right before we can help anyone else,” she told them. Of course it was frightening for people to be taken right under their noses, for their fortress to be invaded. Astrid felt the panic and anxiety too. But in this moment, composure was important and in the case of throbbing headaches, they shouldn't have been yelling across to each other.

Astrid gently prompted the nurse away to spend her efforts elsewhere.

She did a head count and noticed there were few more than she thought that were missing. Taken, she mentally corrected herself. They couldn't have been dead because Hydra would have come in using lethal force from the beginning. Wren, Lilith, Ulrich, Alec, Caitra, Frankie. “Oh, Frank.” The pit of her stomach dropped and Astrid held herself. Wren had a mouth and was gifted in antagonizing people. Ulrich had a god complex, Lilith had a sadistic queen complex. Alec could be a little lippy. They would make the most of being prisoners. The other two were least deserving and likely wouldn't provoke torture.

Astrid steadily strode between the rows and rows of beds to check how her peers were coping and the UN officials, though in honesty they were far less of a priority. She got to the entry of the infirmary and froze. Her shield was there, propped against the wall painted in hydra colors and the star replaced with their symbol. A skull with six tentacles emerging from it in red and black. “I don't suppose you know who did that?” she questioned through clenched teeth.

A nearby nurse shook her head. “No, sorry. There's been lots of people coming in and out.”

Astrid stared at it for some time before lunging to it and flipping it around. Her eyes couldn’t bear into the taunting hydra symbol. Her fists clenched by her sides.

The more she processed the worse things appeared. Hydra struck when the academy hosted an event for the UN. They only abducted some students. Astrid clutched her hair. How much was orchestrated and how much was luck? They would only be able to put their heads together once they were composed enough.



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Protege of Poison Ivy || #e116d8 || Outfit
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Lilith woke up gasping and immediately went to feel her own throat. Her fingers tentatively inspected the damage she couldn't see, but she could feel it. One little touch sent her hand retracting. She imagined she must have modeled a blue and purple neck and not in any steamy way.

Lilith then saw her chains and some of the others. She had a little leeway at least being the weak link of the group which was a perk and insulting all the same. She twiddled her fingers trying to prompt some green to help her out but her powers were a no show.

Her eyes met Wren's and she instinctively mirrored her poor smile. "I saw you kicking ass back there. Your training is showing... But, when we get out of here, I'll have to teach you how to get out of a choke hold."

It didn't feel too wrong to genuinely smile then. And something else hit her, pride. Only a smudge because clearly she wasn't good enough to get out of an ox's choke hold. “Thank you,”
she replied though the words were barely audible. Lilith tried to clear her throat. “He was a monster in size so I look forward to your teachings,” she croaked.

Just as she said it, she wished she hadn't. Her eyes saw - and couldn't unsee Wren's large spider-shaped scar and what tried to remain of her dress on her abdomen. Lilith got choked by a big guy, big whoop. Wren got...god knows what. Hog-tied or something.

"Did anyone see what happened at the Academy?" Lilith turned to Frankie then took a look around for anyone that wanted to pipe up. Mr. Smooth Talker was present and by default he couldn't say anything. Lilith shrugged as response in case she was expectant on her for an answer. "Please tell me no one died..."

She almost thought about answering Frankie since no one else helped the girl with peace of mind, but she was too late. "Only those that deserved it or weren't smart enough to duck." Lilith shook her head, unable to help the smile that passed her lips. She couldn't have said it better herself, but for Frankie, it was probably best to divert from the truth a little. "From what I heard, Nathaniel ripped up some of the men. Literally I heard it. The crack, snap and screams of agony," Ulrich continued.

Yes, I had to play hopscotch over the different body parts flying out of the cloud of smoke, she had half a mind to chime but mercifully did not. Besides, her vocals weren’t feeling great and Bane wasn't the only one dropping bodies.

Around her conversation seemed to change to individual 'are you okays?', 'how'd you get caught', 'I care about you' so she closed her eyes and strapped in for damsel in distress. She had no role in such conversations. Lilith also had a half mind to inquire who Wren's plus one was, but she figured it would be a little unfair since he couldn't speak for himself, whether that be truth or lie.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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#, as written by barnes
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Image Image ImagexxxxxP E T R A x M A X I M O F F x x h e x x // x b22222 x




ImagePetra remained acutely aware of the passage of time. Every minute ticking by was agony, with nothing to do but to watch as Hydra left, leaving the detritus of the attack to the Academy. She watched as all the unconscious people were taken out of the room to the infirmary, watched as they carried Ross out, her heart aching the entire time.

He'll come back for me. He has to.

For a little while she wandered among the various shards, feeling like an intruder in what should have been her home, except that her home had never experienced such chaos before. What was it that Rachmaninoff had said? I feel like a ghost in a world grown alien.

Eventually she returned to where she'd first entered, sinking onto the floor opposite the shard reflected by the compact. She couldn't go anywhere, so she might as well remain where she could be found.

The adrenaline of the past hour caught up to her quickly, though, and she found her eyelids closing, even as she willed herself to stay awake. This fight was a brief and victoryless one - within minutes she was asleep, sitting on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest.

She was awoken, half an eternity later, by shouting. "Where are the others? Where's Petra?!"

Raising her head, she blinked the heaviness away, trying to figure out the source of the voice. Oddly familiar, though the same couldn't be said for her surroundings - she seemed to be everywhere, and yet nowhere at once.

Then she remembered. Ross and his stupid compact. Through a shard on her right she could see Tobias sitting upright in what looked like the infirmary, looking around frantically. She sighed to herself, making no effort to try to communicate with him. It would be fruitless, and she'd already established nothing was leaving this realm until Ross came back.

Speak of the devil... A familiar figure all but leapt out of the next bed, scrambling to his feet. "Shite!"

Petra rolled her eyes, suddenly irate. "Thanks for remembering me, I guess," she said aloud to the empty air, watching as Ross struggled past the nurses to return to the now-ruined ballroom.

"Red! It's meh. Come on, take me hand." A hand reached out through the glass in front of her. She grasped it tightly, pulling herself to her feet, and stepped back through.

Up close, he looked even worse than she had initially realised. The beating he'd endured earlier had clearly taken its toll, his face a canvas of bruises, and the bandages wrapped around his chest weren't any comfort either. Taking advantage of their contact from where she still held his hand, she tried to transfer some of the magic that helped her heal to him. A sudden rush of warmth through her hand, and what magic she'd managed to summon passed through to him. Not much, seeing how drained she was, but perhaps enough to speed up the process and relieve some of his pain.

Ignoring the men in the room gaping at the girl who'd just stepped out of nowhere, she let go of Ross and took a step back. "Are you - okay?" She paused, aware of what a stupid question that was. "You didn't have to do that. I'm more than capable of looking after myself, and you got yourself hurt for it. That was completely unnecessary." Her tone changed, expression hardening. For once, she didn't want to be closed off, but she couldn't stop herself - once a Maximoff got started there was no stopping them, and it was her nature to mask her real emotions. "I could have helped. I could have done something, but you decided to put me in your stupid mirror -" She cut herself off with a barely-veiled sob. Turning her back on Ross, she strode back to the infirmary. At least Tobias was there, she didn't need to try to hide her thoughts with him.

Why did you have to get hurt helping me?


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Image Image ImagexxxxxR I L E Y x B A R T O N x x h e x x // x 7a378b x




ImageHis father, sitting in a chair beside his bed. "Riley." A soothing hand, weighing heavy on his shoulder. "You know you can't save everyone, right?"

"That's not true," he tried to say, but his mouth was filled with cotton, packed all the way down his throat, in his lungs. "That's not true," he tried again, and this time he felt blood bubble up from between his teeth, dripping hot and heavy from his lips.

"It is true. Even me." The figure wavered, growing insubstantial, almost transparent, then holes began to burn through him as though he were nothing more than paper.

"No!" Riley gasped, jackknifing upright. Can't breathe - Clawing desperately at his chest and face, his scrabbling fingers found a hard casing over his mouth and nose. He couldn't find the edges for a moment - oh god it's welded to my face - but that irrational thought left him quickly as he slipped a nail under it, and pulled it away, the straps tugging loose.

"Mr. Barton, please!" A nurse hurried to his side. She took the casing from him while he sucked in several breaths, the air rattling in his lungs. When his head finally cleared and he looked at her, her lips were twisted in an ironic smile, trying to appear comforting. "This was supposed to help you with breathing, but I suppose if you can manage without..." She raised the thing in her hands, and only then did Riley see that it was an oxygen mask.

It was hard to see her clearly. While he tried to make sense of what he was looking at, the scene would fade, breaking up and reconverging. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, uh... I can't seem to..." He checked the chair beside the bed surreptitiously. No trace of his dad. It was only just a dream. What if the nurse began to burn up, though?

Somewhere someone was yelling. Maybe two someones. Was it Tobias? Another someone darted past, drawing the nurse's attention. She turned, half ready to attend to the situation, but thought better of it, seeing as it already had so much attention from her colleagues. Her attention returned to Riley, resuming her attempts to be comforting.

"Well, you're suffering the effects of hypoxia and a possible concussion. Try and get some rest, okay? I'll come back to check on you when you're done with this." She tapped the bag attached to the other end of his IV. One final kindly smile, and she left to continue making her rounds.

She hadn't forbidden him from getting up, so Riley swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. A wave of dizziness rolled over him, and he staggered, almost sitting down again. Only the IV pole was there to support him, and he gripped it tightly, taking deep, deliberate breaths until his head stopped feeling like it was going to pop off his shoulders.

He was wearing pajamas. Where had these come from? They rustled when he moved, and were cool against his skin - nothing like the soft comfort of the sweatshirts he loved so much.

With no particular goal in mind, Riley wandered among the beds, feeling like an invalid as he dragged the IV pole behind him. Astrid strode past him, looking far less worse for the wear, but she didn't stop to talk. He shuffled past the rows of beds until he saw a familiar face - Andrew. Feeling a bit guilty for passing out on him, Riley dropped into the chair by his bedside. The least he could do was offer Andrew a comforting presence when he came round.

While seated, Riley continued to look around, making a mental count of those missing. Another pang of guilt wormed its way into his stomach as he realised Frankie was gone. He could have helped her, should have helped her - but he didn't, and now she was in Hydra's hold. Maybe he would have the energy to feel something stronger about this turn of events later, but for now there was little more he could think besides disappointment at his own inability.

You know you can't save everyone, right?


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Image Image ImagexW 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




ImageOutside the infirmary, an argument was well under way.

"Be reasonable, please, Wynne. After that attack, you can't stay on. It's illogical and pointless."

Wynne's hands were shaking, but her voice was steady. "No, father. Hydra got what they wanted. They won't be back soon. We need to learn to work together against an external force, and now, more than ever, we need the Academy's support. There's even more reason for me to stay than before."

Gods, but did her wounds hurt. Medical had been quick to remove the bullets and wrap her wings to the best of their ability - perhaps they should have called a vet in for her - but accelerated healing factor be damned, she'd never felt pain like this before. And if that wasn't the nail in the coffin, she'd awoken way earlier than most of the others, while they were pulling the bullets out of her. It was a wonder her screams hadn't been enough to rouse the entire infirmary from their drugged sleep.

But she hadn't pulled her trump card yet. Fixing her eyes on her father's, she pitched her voice low. "What's illogical and pointless is setting our name up as blood traitors to those we should have stood by. Neither those who occupy this building nor those who just blew a hole in it are very happy with both of us at the moment, so I would suggest taking any opportunity we can to remedy that. With the right faction."

Warren's jaw tightened, if that was even possible given how he was all but grinding his teeth already. Wynne was surprised he wasn't spitting loose teeth at her, to be honest.

"Fine. But remember who put you here - someone who could take that away just as easily." He didn't just mean the Academy, of course - if Warren Worthington wanted to regain the title of the only mutant in the United Nations, he could tear her away from her position. She knew that well enough.

"I'll remain in touch. Father." Fearful she'd crack, Wynne turned and went back into the infirmary, sweeping past the Rogers girl. She wasn't accustomed to opposing her father, and every time it happened it was terrifying. This was one of the rare times she'd come out on top, and she would treasure it.

Because it wasn't about keeping an eye on mutants, it wasn't about making sure they picked the right side to fight for. It wasn't even about trying to clear her own name. Wynne had wanted to reclaim her identity for a long time, and she'd be lying if she said the adrenaline rush from earlier wasn't addictive - even if it had resulted in her getting shot. But not only had she finally been able to see the Academy she'd always felt would be more accepting of her than her own home, but a student had stepped in front of flying debris for her. Whether he had done it intentionally was irrelevant. He had helped her, and now she owed him.

Tobias was sitting up in bed, yelling about Petra Maximoff. Wynne revisited her mental notes briefly - right, she was his niece - trying to recall if she'd seen the redheaded mutant among the chaos earlier. No, she couldn't remember her, not since she'd left with Ross McCulloch while Wynne was talking to Tobias.

A nurse was restraining Tobias from getting out of bed, trying to placate him. Wynne hovered uncertainly behind her, wondering if she could offer help. Maybe she was just being a hindrance - no, she hadn't anywhere else to go, not after storming off.

"Um. Hi."


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Image Image ImagexxxxxxxxxJ E N S E N x J O N E S x x h e x x // x 2b4f81 x




ImageJensen jerked awake, arms flailing, still mentally in the battle. It took her a moment to realise her surroundings - though that realisation didn't help calm her down.

Heart pounding, she looked around at the others, hoping to hear Wren and Alec going at it as per usual. Pointless, really, when she had seen Wren with that - that thing - protruding from her torso, being pulled into the Hydra helicraft, but she could hope Alec had moved out of the heat of the fight, unlike her, and made it out untouched.

No such luck. Only Jensen, of their original three, remained in the Academy. A cold sensation began at the top of her scalp, trickling down slowly to her ears, then down her neck. What would happen to those in Hydra's hands, she couldn't say for sure. But they had gone after a specific number amongst them, and of those students Alec would be the weakest, having been forced to leave his hat behind in his room. Jensen briefly cursed JARVIS and the mentors for not having anticipated the situation, knowing full well that anyone with tools outside of what they innately possessed had been made to leave them behind anyway. It could have been any one of them.

Her breath hitched in her chest, and as it did pain radiated outward from the right side of her chest. She clutched at it, looking down. At some point of time someone had helped her out of her dress and into hospital pajamas, and under the papery blouse bandages covered the better part of her torso. Amazing. A cracked rib. Isn't that just the shit icing on top of a shit cake. She remembered sustaining a heavy blow to her right side, but she hadn't felt the pain then. Not until now, when it seemed like once the pain had started, it would never stop. And speaking of which...

Whoever had removed her dress was kind enough to leave it folded on the stand beside her bed, along with her other belongings. Rummaging through her clutch, she found an old compact, one she'd left in there to rot weeks before, and flipped it open. She was nursing a black eye and split lip to complement the bandage over her broken nose, to say nothing of the various cuts across her forearms inflicted by the flying debris. "Fuck," she croaked at no one in particular. Injuries were a bitch to heal, and everything hurt - but she'd be okay soon enough.

Jensen's hand had curled into a fist around the compact, now closed. She looked down. Blood seeped through her fingers, dripping into her lap, staining the thin bedsheets. Almost carelessly, she dropped the shattered plastic and glass pieces on the floor, then slammed her bloodied fist down on the bedside stand. The flimsy wood gave way with a loud crack, and the stand collapsed, broken.

Fuck indeed.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Zachary Drake Character Portrait: Mia Cage Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

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#, as written by mjolnir
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wren wilson
deadpoolx|xoutfitx|x#BB141E

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Wren was happy that she managed to make Lilith smile. Considering their situation, a smile wasn't something to be expected of anyone. “Thank you,” Lilith said quietly. It was obvious the choke hold from the night prior took more of a toll on her than what met the eyes. “He was a monster in size so I look forward to your teachings,” she croaked.

The red head chuckled weakly, followed by a groan as she tried to break free of her binds yet again. "Eh, you have nothing to worry about. Getting out of a choke hold isn't about strength or their size... It's all about body movement." Wren probably would have wiggled her hips seductively at the comment of body movement, but she wasn't moving anything anytime soon restrained the way she was.

Her brows knit together as she tried not to look too sullen at the sight of Cas. Wren couldn't imagine having her voice taken from her. Everyone knew she rarely ever shut up, it wasn't a special ability, just her annoying quirk. But God did she wish he listened to her. No one knew who he was, and there was no way Hydra knew. He could have hid under a table and waited it out. But that didn't happen, and here he was.

Cassius nodded in response to her question. He might say he's ok, but to Wren's eyes he didn't look ok. Not that he would die from blood loss from a wound there. But there was still the possibility of infection. She studied his face for a moment, noticing his gaze fell to the whole in her gown and the remnants of the harpoon that skewered her like a wild boar. The spider legs of the wound stretched across her abdomen. They were blue and purple surrounded by a halo of sickly yellow. It was healing, but far slower than she usually healed. She sighed softly, looking up at Cas. "I'm ok... 'Tis but a scratch," Wren said with her best British accent and a weak smile.

Wren sighed, glancing around at the others. Then her eyes stopped on Alec who sat across from her. She pursed her lips, stretching her legs to try and bump his foot with her own, but he was too far away. "Hey," she said quietly to get his attention. Wren could tell by the look on his face that he was a deer in headlights. Somehow, someone as cool and collected as Alec seemed more freaked out than Frankie... Who honestly always seemed level headed as well. "Alec... It's going to be ok. We'll get out of—"

Her attention was drawn toward the entrance of the cell when a group of three Hydra soldiers, unlocked the door. One by one they filed into the small quarters, sizing up each and every one of them. Wren watched as they seemed to be deciding which one of them they wanted. "Those two look like they're ready to break right now," one said motioning toward Alec and Frankie.

"Yeah but that one," another added pointing at Cassius. "If we broke him first, he could help with the others. It'd make our job much easier." He hooked his fingers on his belt. "Then we can just kill them all and be done with it."

The other guard nodded his head, and started to walk toward Cas, reaching for the keys hooked to his belt. "Looks like you get to go first, Mr. Thompson."

Wren didn't like the sound of anything the Hydra soldiers were saying. Her hands began to tug against her restraints as they started to walk past her and go for Cas. They were right. If they broke Cas, all he'd have to do is say the right words to each of them... And they'd have no choice but to obey. But more than that... She feared for him. Why though? She barely knew him, yet the thought of those Hydra fucks taking him boiled her blood.

Before she could help it, Wren was shouting out toward the guards. "Hey!" She aggressively thrashed in her binds, kicking and groaning. "Miserable pieces of shit! You can't even handle us! You have to drug us and chain us up... Then go after the one person who'd make your jobs easier!? You're all fucking pathetic!"

The solider froze just before he went to unlock Cas' binds, turning his head toward Wren. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

"You, ya fuckin' pussy!" Wren hissed at him, then spat in his face.

Without hesitation, the solider had his hand around Wren's throat. But she only laughed and smiled up at him as his grip tightened, making it harder for her to breath. "Listen here you little whore," he growled down at her with his face close to hers. "Say one more thing, and I'll drag that perky little ass of yours out by your hair."

Wren smirked through her strained breathing, not showing her strain. She stretched her neck, leaning her head up to meet the solider's as best as she could until her face was an inch from hers. "Go. Fuck. Yourself." Wren then lunged forward. Her teeth snapped around the tip of the man's nose. As he pulled away, she bit down harder until a piece of his flesh tore from his face, caught between her canines. She then spit the skin back at him, her mouth stained by his blood.

"You bitch!" he screamed out, bringing his hands to cup his nose. A crimson tide slowly started to flow from between his fingers, and stream down his neck.

Wren grinned as the blood clung to her gums and dripped from her bottom lip. Out of anger, the Hydra soldier raised his leg, landing a loud and forceful kick to her jaw, breaking it on contact. She let her head dangle as she tried to catch her breath. Wren was no longer able to talk, barely able to move her mouth. A broken jaw was a new one for her, no doubt it'd heal soon, but it didn't feel good. With her jaw cocked to the right, drooping low and at an awkward, unnatural angle, she tried her best to smile up at him.

"Get her!" He ordered the other soldiers as his hand still held his nose.

"But, what about Kilgrave?" one asked, motioning over his shoulder toward Cas.

"Fuck him. Obviously, Ms. Wilson here wants to be first."

"But she heals... Torturing her would be pointless. If we took Cassius first—"

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE! GET HER!"

Without anymore hesitation, the other two soldiers scurried over to Wren. She had their attention, and after all that was what she wanted. She hoped that maybe she could see something about this place that would give her insight on how to get out or something. Worse comes to worse... At least she was the one being tortured and not the others. Wren knew it'd hurt. Just because she could heal, didn't mean she didn't feel it like everyone else. But, out of everyone there, she was the one that could handle it.

She couldn't fight, even if she wanted to. Her jaw snapped back in place just before she looked around at the others. Wren's gaze locked on Alec's and then Cas'. She gave her bravest smile and a wink just before one of the solider's grabbed her head, and snapped her neck. The guard with the bleeding nose grabbed a fist full of Wren's hair and began to drag her unconscious body out of the cell. The other two locked the door behind them as he took her like a hunter dragging his trophy.




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frankie parker
spidermanx|xoutfitx|x#FF0057

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"Only those that deserved it or weren't smart enough to duck," Ulrich responded. That wasn't the answer Frankie was hoping for, nor did that really answer her question. She tensed, as much as humanly possible being restrained and chained to the wall.

"That's not what I meant... Did anyone of us die?" Would any of them know? Frankie could barely keep herself conscious, let alone notice what was happening beyond...

"From what I heard, Nathaniel ripped up some of the men. Literally I heard it. The crack, snap and screams of agony."

Frankie frowned slightly, her gaze falling to her lap, fixated on the torn and tattered fabric of her gown. She didn't notice the screams or anything. But she knew why Nathaniel did it. Everything he did, and everyone he killed was to try to get to her... To try and save her before the Hydra soldiers took her away. And he would have been successful if it weren't for the gun they held to her head. Her stomach turned and knotted at the thought of him falling to his knees with tears streaming down his cheeks.

How in the hell did all of this happen? Where did the academy go wrong? Frankie couldn't wrap her mind around what Hydra wanted, especially with those of them currently locked in that cell. From what she could tell, all of them weren't human. Although she didn't know about the unknown stranger that seemed to know Wren. Everyone that she did know had completely different abilities, and they were all significantly powerful. Why were they wanted though? Hydra had to see how this was a ticking time bomb. All they needed was one of them to get the upper leg and make the right move. Then it'd just be like another one of their simulations... Hydra didn't stand a chance... Or so she hoped.

Frankie was about to ask Wren who this other guy was, but before any words could even threaten to leave her lips hydra soldiers appeared. She tried to remain quiet and brave, even when they pointed at herself and Alec claiming that they were the easiest targets of the group. She wouldn't admit it, but it was probably true. Frankie was on the verge of a mental and emotional break down, and Alec didn't look to be doing any better.

What happened next left her completely and utterly speechless. Frankie just sat in awe as Wren taunted and insulted the hydra soldiers. She didn't know if it was to protect the guy or maybe because in the end... It was nearly impossible to kill her. But, Frankie wanted to tell her to shut up and just be obedient. Wren wasn't like that though. She was never the type to follow the rules. The blonde flinched, looking away when Wren took a piece of the guy's nose between her teeth and tore it off. Frankie coughed, trying not to gag from the sight.

Frankie watched, stunned as they broke her jaw and pried her from her binds against the wall. But of course, in a Wren like fashion, she winked towards them before they snapped her neck. All Frankie could do was watch in horrified silence as they dragged her away by her hair. She could only hope that the next time she saw Wren, she was running back to the cell with keys, a gun... Or something.

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ross mcculloch
mirror masterx|xoutfitx|x#FF8D34

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When Ross felt Petra's hand grasp his own, he pulled her through the mirror until she was standing in the rubble that was the ballroom. He glanced down at their hands as he felt a wave of warmth pass from her to him. He didn't know what she was doing. But, whatever it was, it had a slight calming feeling. Kind of like standing under a hot shower after along day. Then she let go of his hand and took a step back. His hand remained frozen and outstretched for a moment, before falling down to his side.

"Are you - okay?" Ross was going to answer. He was fine. A little worse for the wear, but he was alive and would heal. But, when he parted his lips she just continued speaking. "You didn't have to do that. I'm more than capable of looking after myself, and you got yourself hurt for it. That was completely unnecessary." He sighed, but didn't divert his gaze. After all, Ross expected an angry rant from her. It could be expected of anyone at the academy. No one likes being saved because it either makes them feel weak, or think that others perceive them as weak. Of course, it was neither in his eyes, but she didn't know that.

"I could have helped. I could have done something, but you decided to put me in your stupid mirror -" Her words stopped as she sobbed. She then turned her back on him and started to head out of the ballroom.

Ross clenched his jaw, and quickly followed after her. Her caught up with Petra when she was in the hallway. "No. Ya don’ get ta do that!" He gently grabbed her arm, stopping her where she was and forcing her to face him. Ross couldn't give a rat's ass if she was mad at him, but if she was going to be mad at him... She was going to know why he did it. Not whatever she wanted to think.

"Ya think I don’ know that ya could’ve helped? Yeh could kill me with a bat of those gorgeous eyes of yers. ‘Em not a hero. ‘Em not gonna save da world some day. People like meh er insignificant compared ta gods like ya." Ross motioned his hand toward her. "Aye would have let ya blast those Hydra fuckers right out da hole they came in through. But, ya didn’t hear what I heard. They were lookin’ for ya. They called out yer fuckin’ name when they saw ya! You were on their list!

"Do ya know who da first person they took was?… Wren Wilson. Wren mother fuckin’ Wilson."
He paused for a moment. Ross didn't look away from Petra, but let that thought truly sink in. Wren Wilson, someone who could take on one hundred people without breaking a sweat was the first person kidnapped. "She didn’t get two hits in before they shot a harpoon through her like she was a roast pig. They knew what they were doin’. If they had a way to capture all da others, ya think they didn’t have a way to get ya too?"

Ross sighed, shaking his head slightly while running his hands back through his messy hair. "I don’ care if ya hate me for the rest of yer life, because at least you’d be alive. I did what was in me power to do. Because I couldn’t look at Tobias and tell ‘em yer gone…" It was only then that he looked away, his gaze fixated on his feet. "’N fuck Tobias, I couldn’t let ya be taken!" Ross looked back up at her. He wasn't yelling at her or angry, but almost like he was begging her to understand. "I wouldn’t! ‘Em not important, but you are. I’m sorry, Petra… But, I won’t apologize for what I did. ’N I’d do it again without a moment’s hesitation, even if it meant me life for yers."

With nothing more to say, Ross inhaled a shaky breath, no longer able to hold her gaze. He lingered there for a moment, before pivoting on his heels and slowly trudging his way back to the infirmary. As he stepped through the doorway, he was instantly met by Tobias' gaze. Ross didn't really have words, but gave the man a nod of his head in reassurance as he walked past him.

Nurses instantly drew to him like moths to a flame. "Mr. McCulloch, you must rest. You could rupture an organ with your broken ribs if you aren't careful."

"Yeah, yeah," Ross waved them off, walking past his own bed. "I know."

"Where are you going?"

"Over here," he groaned, slowly lowering himself to sit at the foot of Jensen's bed. Ross' hand held his side as he tried to relax. His whole escape attempt quickly catching up with him.

The nurses didn't quite know how to react to that. One stood there, staring at Ross in confusion, while the other seemed unamused, crossing her arms over her chest. "That bed is occupied..."

Ross rolled his eyes. "She won't mind," He said as he laid back in Jensen's bed so that they were shoulder to shoulder. He looked over at his friend from the corner of his eyes, then back at the nurse. Ross didn't feel like being alone at the current moment. Although they technically weren't alone in the infirmary, he wanted to be with a friend. Plus, his bed was next to Tobias' and that was no doubt where Petra would head. Just because he's accepted that she is mad at him, didn't make it any easier for him to handle.

"And what about your IV?"

"Fer the love of God, woman. Its on wheels int it?" The nurse huffed, realizing it was a losing battle. She rolled his IV stand over to him. Without any form of nurse gentleness, she grabbed his arm and practically stabbed the needle back into his arm. But Ross refused to give her the satisfaction of wincing. Once he was set back up, he waved her off not wanting to deal with anyone he didn't have to.

Ross didn't have to be a genius to know that Jensen needed a friend. From the looks of things her two closest friends were gone. He saw the rubble that was the bed stand next to her and the blood in her palm. "Ey!" he called out to the retreating nurse who begrudgingly turned to face him. "I need bandages." The woman shoved her hand into the pocket of her scrubs, pulling out a small spool of bandage wrap. She then threw it at him and walked away before he could ask for anything else.

"Bitch," Ross mumbled under his breath as he sat up slowly. "Lemme see it," He wiggled his fingers, asking for Jensen's injured hand. He carefully and quietly picked any pieces of glass from her palm, then wrapped her hand. Once he was done, he laid back down beside her, staring up at the ceiling. "Don' worry, Jones. Wren is tough. She'll take care 'o Alec." He looked around the room, then back at Jensen. "Aye give it a day before Wilson struts back in 'ere wit one of their heads on a spike."




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tobias lehnsherr
magnetox|xoutfitx|x#57428C

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"Um. Hi," Tobias heard sheepishly behind his own thrashing and fighting against the nurses. No one came to see if he was ok. No one in the school cared if he was alive or dead except Petra, which was the entire reason he was freaking out in the first place. He froze when his gaze was met by grey blue eyes and blonde hair. His attention was then quickly drawn toward the shirtless Scot that trudged back into the infirmary. Ross gave him a nod which set Tobias at ease, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief.

He motioned the nurses away, allowing himself to slink back into his bed. Tobias took a moment to catch his breath, his right hand cupping his bandaged wound. He slowly looked back up toward Wynne, noticing the bandages on her wings. "I thought I blocked you?" he asked, confused. Honestly, Tobias had no idea how to talk to anyone, because they never talked to him. And after the events of last night, surliness wasn't going to help any of them cope.

He was going to attempt some light hearted sarcastic comment about her sticking around at the academy after everything, but a loud slam got his attention. Tobias sat up in his bed, seeing the after math of nurses being pushed in every direction away from a distraught Nathaniel. He then stepped forward, addressing them all as they laid half beaten to death in beds. "We obviously need to find them and work together. Does anyone have any ideas on a plan?"

Tobias carefully stood up and walked over toward the distraught giant. Today seemed to be a day of firsts for a lot of them. Nathaniel was talking to more than just one person, and Tobias... was actually going to go initiate a conversation with someone else instead of the opposite. He slowly raised his hand to rest it on Nathaniel's shoulder. He might be a powerful man, but he was as transparent as glass. It didn't take a genius to know that he was upset and out of sorts because of Frankie's capture. Tobias didn't blame him, he'd be the same way if Petra was gone.

"I'll help you, Nathaniel," he said, looking up into the man's eyes. "And I'm sure everyone else wants revenge too. But, we need to heal first or we'll be useless and our friends will die." Well, no one was friends with Tobias, but that wasn't the point. None of them could go rushing into battle right now. No one could even rush if they wanted to. Plus, they had no idea where to start.

Tobias quickly began to feel light headed, and let himself stumble back until he was sitting at the foot of his bed. He looked over at Wynne, and motioned for her to take a seat if she wanted. There was no point in standing around, she had to be tired like the rest of them. He tried to think of something to say, but the mentors finally decided to grace them all with their presence.

Alfred looked nearly on the edge of tears and like he hadn't gotten a single minute of sleep. Knowing the man, he probably helped nurse them all while they laid unconscious in the infirmary. Even Phil seemed a bit sullen, struggling to find something to say. But, to no surprise, Mycroft seemed completely indifferent, stepping forward while clearing his throat. "It's nice to see that you all are well. As—"

"Are ya fuckin' mad?!" Ross chimed in from the far side of the room. "We're half dead 'n half of us are gone!"

"Yes, Mr. McCulloch." It looked as though the mentor was trying not to roll his eyes, like Ross' reaction was an inconvenience.

Alfred spoke up, his voice even cracking in a few instances. "He just means, we're very happy that you all survived the attack. It was a horrible situation and we're all so proud of how you all fought to protect each other and the academy."

"But, they didn't." Mycroft interjected. "Wren Wilson, Alec Constantine, Petra Max—" He froze mid-sentence seeing Petra amongst the other descendants. He cleared his throat and continued on. "Lilith Isley, Ulrich Zod, Caitria Allen, Francis Parker and Cassius Thompson were all taken hostage last night like it was nothing." He spoke as if he was reading off the results of a simulation, like they weren't victims of a real threat. "If you all would have fought as a team, like we've been trying to tell you for years now... None of this would have happened. Hydra would have been stopped before they laid a hand on anyone."

"Mycroft," Phil interjected with a sharp bite in his words. "They were unarmed and unprepared. They fought admirably, all things considered."

"Hydra walked in and walked out like they were invited. Leaving with seven... Seven of the most powerful Descendants in their clutches. There is no excuse for this."

"Hydra came prepared," Phil argued. "They came for a purpose. To take those Descendants and leave. It's not their fault that they couldn't fight off weapons specifically designed to exploit their weaknesses, Mycroft. They saved countless lives last night. Not a single person, aside from Hydra soldiers, were killed" He then stepped forward, motioning his hand toward Tobias. "Even Tobias single handedly save Thaddeus Ross' life. This all won't go unnoticed by the U.N., the academy or anyone else."

Tobias shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Don't placate me," he mumbled under his breath. He didn't do it for the glory or to be called a hero. He definitely didn't want the attention or gazes of the others either. What they didn't know was his decision to save Thaddeus Ross probably just killed them all in the end. Magneto wasn't going to be happy that Tobias let Thaddeus live, and he knew it.

Mycroft shrugged off everything Phil said, continuing forward. "J.A.R.V.I.S. is currently working to compile every piece of information from the attack that he can to try and find out where the other Descendants were taken. Once he is finished, we will use the data to form our next plan of attack. We can only hope we reach them before Hydra kills the Descendants... Or worse, before they find a way to exploit their powers to make their own super mutant weapons." With nothing more to say, he turned on his heels and exited the infirmary. He stopped when he reached the doors, not seeing Phil or Alfred following behind him. "Let's go."

Phil turned halfway to face Mycroft, visually upset at the man's cold behaviors in the face of everything that happened. "Alfred and I are going to stay and help nurse them back to health."

"Have fun with J.A.R.V.I.S., Mr. Xavier," Alfred added coldly, before getting back to work, helping aid the nurses.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones

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#, as written by barnes
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ImagePetra would have been content to stew in her own emotions and get over her anger alone, but Ross's shoes sounded down the hall behind her, and before she'd really registered it his hand was on her arm, not tight, but unyielding. "No. Ya don't get ta do that!"

"Ya think I don' know that ya could've helped? Yeh could kill me with a bat of those gorgeous eyes of yers. 'Em not a hero. 'Em not gonna save da world some day. People like meh er insignificant compared ta gods like ya."

She had prepared herself for insults and anger. She had not prepared herself for this. Taken aback, all she could do was stare dumbly at him as he talked, waving his other hand around. She listened as he talked about the agenda he'd overheard, about how Wren had been taken. "I - I had no idea," she tried to say, but her throat had gone dry at knowing how close she had been to being a prisoner were it not for Ross's quick thinking, and she couldn't form the words.

He'd let go of her, but she remained frozen where she stood, letting him talk. Somewhere, through the haze of shock blurring her thoughts, an irrepressibly sensible part of her spoke up: Stay. You must not waver. Even like this, she couldn't break free of the automatic defense mechanisms she'd built around herself since forever.

"'N fuck Tobias, I couldn't let ya be taken!" His eyes were almost painful to look into, burning into her, but she stood steady, her face carefully schooled blank. "I wouldn't! 'Em not important, but you are. I'm sorry, Petra... But, I won't apologise for what I did. 'N I'd do it again without a moment's hesitation, even if it meant me life for yers."

He looked away, and the spell broke. Her feet suddenly unglued from the floor, she shuffled a little, one heel clicking impossibly loud in the ensuing silence. She couldn't respond in defense, only watch as Ross left her, heading back for the infirmary. "But you are important," she murmured to the now-empty hall.

Unwilling to go in, where Ross might be waiting, Petra lingered in the hall, pacing a few steps up and down to help clear her head. Eventually the mentors arrived, and she slipped in after them to stand in a corner, mostly unnoticed. A nurse hurried over, clearly alarmed, but Petra reassured her she was fine, asking instead for a glass of water. Tutting about stubborn students, the nurse left, presumably to find her new charge water.

"It's nice to see you all are well," Mycroft began. Petra respected him, but that had to be a joke, surely. Hardly any of the students looked well by any standards, lying bruised and bandaged and in a state of panic following the Hydra attack.

"Wren Wilson, Alec Constantine, Petra Max--" Mycroft's eyes widened slightly as he met her gaze, and she raised a hand and wiggled her fingers in his direction, coupled with an ironic smile. Far friendlier than she'd ever been with any of the mentors, but then again this was an unusual situation. As he continued reciting the list of those taken hostage, a few heads swivelled in her direction, attention drawn by Mycroft's words, and she was suddenly acutely aware of how awful she must look, still in her dress and heels, her hair coming loose, blood and dust staining her skin and dress. Not to mention that she had gone missing shortly after the attack began, and presumed taken hostage. How could she face her fellow students? She had little right to stand there while the others were experiencing god-knows-what at Hydra's hands.

"...Even Tobias singlehandedly saved Thaddeus Ross's life." Hearing Tobias's name snapped Petra out of her inner turmoil. Gratitude towards Coulson for taking notice of and mentioning Tobias's actions filled her. He probably wouldn't agree with her view, but it showed everyone what she had always believed of him - that he wasn't a villain. Mycroft could go fuck himself.

She wove past students and nurses, squeezing through the chaos that was a roomful of agitated mutants to get to Tobias. One of the mentors passed her - Coulson. In an uncharacteristic show of affection, she reached out to clasp one of his hands between her own, looking up at the older man earnestly. "Sir - if there's anything I can do to aid in the search for the others..." She trailed off, unsure how to finish the offer. Powerful though she was, at the end of the day she was really just a frightened child, unable to step up to fulfill the role of adversary or friend where she was needed. And the mentors likely had a wider range of resources at their disposal, but she wanted to make sure they knew they had her, if they felt she was worth anything.

"And thank you, for, for Tobias. He's not a bad person. Thank you for seeing that." Having said what she had to say, she let go of him, moving towards where Tobias sat on his bed, accompanied by the Worthington girl.

Stealing a chair from beside the next bed, Petra dropped down beside Tobias's bed, kicking her heels off and crossing her legs at the knee, heedless of her decorum. "Hey. How are you feeling? I'm sorry I disappeared. I was - preoccupied elsewhere."


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ImageRiley didn't notice as Andrew struggled to reunite his mind and body, but his attention was regained the moment Andrew shot upright, almost the same way Riley had when he'd woken earlier.

"Whoa, dude. It's okay. Just breathe, yeah?" He leaned forward to place a hand on Andrew's shoulder, trying to calm him down.

"What the hell happened?"

Riley let his hand drop back into his lap, sighing. "After you helped me with Sol, I passed out... I'm assuming you did too, after. Hydra kidnapped some of our number while we were trying to fight them off. " He shrugged. "I doubt any of us could have stopped Hydra, they knew what they wanted and they caught us unprepared. But, oh god, Andrew, Frankie... they took Frankie."

There it was, the emotion that he'd been unable to feel earlier. Maybe telling Andrew what happened, it was as if he'd finally passed all opportunities for denial, as if he'd just opened the door and stared the truth in the eye, with nowhere to hide from it. Frankie was gone, and he hadn't been able to do anything.

The buzzing began in his chest, his heart jackrabbiting with a ceaseless anxiety. Coming to the Academy and accepting his destiny as a Barton, he'd always known he might get hurt, maybe face mortal danger. What he'd never considered was that any friends he made there would be equally susceptible to the same time risk. And of all of them, it had to be Frankie...

When Riley finally raised his head to look at Andrew again, he realised that his eyes had filled with tears, and he was shaking, gripped by a chill that he couldn't get rid of. He ran both hands over his face, drawing in a deep, rasping breath. "Sorry. It's probably, ah, shock." In an attempt to turn the focus away from him, he struggled to find a new conversation topic. "How are you feeling?"


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Image"I thought I blocked you?"

Wynne almost laughed out loud. It seemed absurd that, in all the carnage and chaos, he'd remembered that one tiny act of heroism. "You did, but there was a lot flying around." She was cut off by a loud sound - Santos. Still she lingered there, standing by his bed as she watched Tobias speak to him, ruffling her wings a little to try to find a position that would alleviate the pain. It didn't quite work, more pinpricks of pain jabbing into them as the feathers shifted.

Tobias staggered backward towards her. Instinctively she reached out, intending to catch him if the need arose, but he sat down on his bed instead. She withdrew her hands, clenching and unclenching them awkwardly, hoping he hadn't seen the aborted attempt at help. Here, among people like her who'd had the chance to train and improve themselves, she felt out of place, weaker and less useful. He motioned at the chair, and Wynne sat down gratefully. At least she knew he didn't want her gone, which she had been anticipating.

The mentors filed in just then. If any of them had noticed Wynne among their number, they didn't seem surprised, nor did they comment on it. Hopefully they realised her commitment to her duty... or they just didn't care, which was fine by her either way.

"...taken hostage last night like it was nothing." That seemed rather an unfair statement, knowing the fight that had been put up, however stacked the odds against them were. Still, she made note of those who had been taken, should it come in handy later. The mentors' quibbling before their students seemed hardly professional, but then again it was a stressful situation for everyone.

"Even Tobias singlehandedly saved Thaddeus Ross's life. This all won't go unnoticed by the U.N., the academy, or anyone else." No, it wouldn't. That was news to her - she hadn't seen it take place - but it certainly put Tobias in a much better light. All the more reason to stand up for his trustworthiness to the U.N., should the need arise.

"Don't placate me." The words came low, but Wynne heard them all the same. That was surprising. Did he not want to be recognised for his deeds? Surely the acknowledgement would help his standing among his peers, or did he not care?

After Mycroft Xavier left, Wynne turned to Tobias. It would mean putting aside her pride, but in this case she didn't mind, not at all. "I just wanted to..."

She never got to finish her sentence. Petra Maximoff sat down on the opposite side of the bed, and Wynne shut her mouth with a snap. It could wait. She didn't want to reveal herself in front of anyone else.


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Image"Over here."

The voice was accompanied by pressure on the bed, just by her right leg. Jensen looked up, too numb to even be surprised. She let Ross lie down beside her, shifting to her left a little so that they could both fit side by side, not uncomfortably.

Turning her face away, she stared unblinking at the ceiling, listening to the nurse enquire after Ross's IV. Considering the state of his face - worse than hers, somehow - she wondered how an IV could seem like the most important thing right now. "Fer the love of God, woman. It's on wheels int it?" Jensen exhaled shakily, making a noise that could almost be a chuckle. Good old Ross.

She drifted off for a little after that, only coming back when Ross sat up and reached a hand towards her. "Lemme see it."

"See what," she mumbled, before realising that he meant her injured left hand. She stretched it across her body to him, noticing as it passed her line of vision that blood was still leaking from the cuts, and that the side, which she'd hit the stand with, was beginning to swell and bruise.

Ross was efficient, plucking the remaining shards out of her flesh quickly. For a moment, all she heard was his breathing and the tapping of shoes around the infirmary. Then he wrapped her hand in bandages, and gentle though he was, it still stung, and she sucked in a breath, hissing.

Ross let go and lay down again. She let her bandaged hand drop, resting it on her stomach. "Thanks."

"Don' worry, Jones. Wren is tough. She'll take care 'o Alec." Jensen turned her head to the side to face him, meeting his earnest gaze. "Aye give it a day before Wilson struts back in 'ere with one of their heads on a spike."

Jensen made that weird shaky chuckling sound again. "Better be at least three heads. That girl's got more fight in her big toe than any of you in this room combined." She paused to think. Her usual brand of snarky wouldn't work right now. "I know she's probably fine. I'm just terrified for her right now," she admitted, her voice soft in her exceptional moment of weakness.

Luckily, the mentors' arrival saved her from having to say more. "Are ya fuckin' mad?! We're half dead 'n half of us are gone!" Jensen jumped, startled by Ross's loud voice in her ear. She placed her uninjured hand on his arm, trying to calm him. "That's not going to bring them back, as admirable as your fire is."

It wouldn't, but she bet it felt good. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to throw what was remaining of the bedside stand at Mycroft's stupid bald head for putting the blame on them. She wanted to scream and cry and wreck things. But what good would that do? She barely had the energy to think, much less feel.

It was easier to think about inane things. Something to take their mind off the people they couldn't help lying cold and hungry and in pain somewhere.

Jensen turned towards Ross again. "So... how's your girlfriend?" She nodded towards Petra on the other side of the room, as though he needed any clarification. There weren't that many girls his eyeballs were popping out of his skull for.