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Wynne Worthington

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

Description

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xxxW Y N N E x W O R T H I N G T O Nxxxx p r o t e g e x o f x a n g e l x




"We must accept that which we cannot change."
- Wynne Worthington




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n a m e
Wynne Kinsley Worthington

n i c k n a m e s
Wynner

a g e
25

g e n d e r
female

s e x u a l i t y
heterosexual

o r i g i n
Chicago, Illinois

s p e c i e s
mutant

c l a s s i f i c a t i o n
level 6 - physical



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h e i g h t
1.8m / 5'10"

w e i g h t
50kg / 110.2lbs

h a i r
Wynne's hair is dirty blonde, darker at the roots. It falls to just below her shoulders, often pulled back in a braid or ponytail. The right side is growing back from where she sported a side shave previously.

e y e s
Muted blue, and with long sweeping lashes, Wynne keeps her eye makeup simple, limiting herself to eyeliner on most days. Her level gaze is that of a seasoned diplomat, trained by her father to appear understanding.

m a r k i n g s
The slits in Wynne's back where her wings are attached are marked with thin scars, reminders of the pain of her mutation. Her upper thighs are marked with faded scars, from self-inflicted slashes in her youth. Both her earlobes are pierced, and she sports the fading marks of a spider bite piercing on the left side of her lip.


a p p e a r a n c e
Tall and slender, Wynne's bird-like anatomy is present in her apparent lack of body fat. The most obvious sign of this is, of course, the steely grey wings protruding from her back, just below the shoulder blade. They are often folded back against her body, pulled upright and tight against her body to occupy as little space as possible. She holds herself with perfect posture, chin level, spine straight, features always settled into an almost smile. She's mastered the art of dressing professionally, her wardrobe almost entirely blouses (either those that hang loose around the back or have material forgiving enough to allow for a few slashes to help her wings along), slacks, and sensible heels. Seeing as she received only the bare minimum of training as compared to her father, she hasn't inherited his old costume.





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P O W E R S

w i n g s x // x She possesses the ability to fly by means of her wings, which span 16 feet from wingtip to wingtip. Fully feathered like a bird's, the wings have a very flexible skeletal structure, and are structured like the high-speed wings that allow birds to reach and maintain high speeds over time, much like those of a falcon's. She can reach speeds of up to 120mph, and a height of 8000 feet with little effort. Her wings are strong enough to carry at least 200 pounds in addition to her own body weight.
w e a p o n i s e d x w i n g s x // x She can expel feathers at great speed and with tremendous force, often enough to pierce skin.



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

a e r i a l x a d a p t a t i o n x // x Her anatomy is naturally adapted to flying. Her bones are hollow like a birds, making her weigh far less than usual for a person of her build. Her body is virtually devoid of fat and possesses greater proportionate muscle mass than an ordinary human does. Her eyes are specially adapted to withstand high-speed winds which would hurt the average human eye. She possesses a special membrane in her respiratory system enabling her to extract oxygen from the air at high velocities or altitudes.
p e a k x h u m a n x s t r e n g t h // x Due to her body's natural mutation, she possesses greater physical strength than an ordinary human equal to her in body weight and can lift about 400 lbs.
e n h a n c e d x s t a m i n a x // x Her musculature produces less fatigue toxins during physical activity than the musculature of an ordinary human. She can physically exert herself at peak capacity for several hours before the build up of fatigue toxins in her blood begins to impair her. Her physical stamina while in flight is considerably greater - she can fly non-stop under her own power for a maximum of approximately ten hours.
e n h a n c e d x d u r a b i l i t y x // x The tissues of her body are somewhat harder and more durable than that of an ordinary human, though she is far from invulnerable. While she can be injured in ways comparable to an ordinary human, her body is structured to withstand the friction caused by flying at high speeds. She can also withstand impact forces that would severely injure or kill an ordinary human with only mild to moderate discomfort.
r e g e n e r a t i v e x h e a l i n g x // x She possesses an accelerated healing factor that enables her to repair damaged tissue with much greater speed and efficiency than an ordinary human. She can completely recover from non-fatal injuries such as slash and punctures within a matter of hours and injuries as severe as broken bones within a few days. She can heal fatal injuries and cure most known diseases at an accelerated speed by mixing her blood with that of the victims, so long as they have a compatible blood type (O-).
e n h a n c e d x s e n s e s x // x Specifically, sight and hearing. She is incredibly sensitive to the smallest of movements, and she is able to pick up sounds between the range of 10Hz to 35kHz, greater than that of the average human.
s k i l l e d x c o m b a t a n t x // x She is a solid combatant, especially in aerial hand-to-hand combat.
s k i l l e d x l i n g u i s t x // x Besides English, she is proficient in German, Spanish, Russian, French, and Arabic to an extent.



W E A K N E S S E S

f i r e x // x Her wings, especially, are susceptible to flames. While this isn't a full-blown phobia, she can get paranoid about her wings being near fire, and so always keeps them tucked tightly against her back when they're not in use.
l a c k x o f x x t r a i n i n g // x Unlike her father, who received training at the hands of the best, she learned most of her abilities from him. Raised as a diplomat and not a fighter, she is unable to harness the full extent of her abilities due to a lack of training.
i n a d e q u a c y x // x She never wanted to follow in her father's footsteps, but she was pushed into accepting this lifestyle - given the choice, she would have chosen to be one of the Descendants. Instead, she's a member of the UN, their token "insider" on mutant issues.



F E A R S

m o r t a l i t y x // x Though she has enhanced healing and is significantly harder to kill than the average human, she fears dying without ever having done anything significant, given that she has a significant advantage to do so.
f a i l u r e x // x As a Worthington, there's a lot at stake - a lot she could lose, a lot that could be used against her and her family.
f a l l i n g x // x Not the flying itself; she's afraid that her wings will fail her someday and she'll go plummeting down, down through the sky.




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P E R S O N A L I T Y
xxxxx accomplished xx disciplined xx immaculate xx charismatic x


Wynne is the embodiment of every privileged child genius that grew up to have the same stick up their ass, inherited from their parents. A delegate of the United Nations just like her father before her, she is brilliant, analytical, and diplomatic, her every action guided by what the country requires of her. She always strives to do the best under her circumstances, and will look for a solution that benefits as many people involved as possible, fighting to break free of the reputation of inefficacy that others in similar positions keep hanging around. She is especially skilled at approaching situations from every perspective, fighting to understand the various intentions and desires that go into the creation of any situation in order to formulate a satisfactory response. All this within the span of seconds, every moment spent analysing and carefully tucking away little slips of information in her mind to gain the larger picture involved - one could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she listens to others. It would be folly, therefore, to misinterpret her numerous questions as genuine interest in the subject's personal wellbeing, as more often than not such questions are for her own benefit and understanding than to alleviate any concerns or doubts that others may possess.

She holds herself and others to the same rigid expectations, whether in behaviour or appearance or interpersonal relations. As a result, this may make her a tad difficult to get along with, because in the face of such carefully polished and postured perfection, it's difficult to ignore the fact that she's judging you by her standards, whether it shows or not. She likes to think she inspires people to be their better self, but it's normally a case of her causing others to be afraid of being viewed as inadequate, leading to them putting their best selves forward to leave a good impression in her mind. Always the voice of reason, she sticks to her beliefs and is almost impossible to sway, although she has a way of phrasing her arguments that they seem infallible.

However, deep down this isn't the life she wants. She wants more than anything to be one of the Descendants, to slip into the legacy her father left behind when he entered politics like so many of the others did. It shows sometimes when she interacts with representatives of the Academy, the longing in her eyes when she watches the students at work. Sometimes she watches the news and sees the heroes at work, and wishes she could be one of them, soaring through the sky where she was obviously born to be.





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H I S T O R Y


Every hero eventually reaches the end of his tenure, and Angel was no exception. He, like most of his peers, settled down with a pleasant (if bland and awfully human) woman, introduced through their parents, and after a few years of courtship had a daughter. Alice Livingston was not averse to having a mutant for a husband, nor was she ruffled when their daughter started pulling feathers out of her back, but stated under no uncertain terms that "that kind of lifestyle" would not affect her or Wynne.

Wynne never really had a chance. By the time she was born, Warren Kenneth Worthington III, a talented businessman in the lower part of the Fortune 500 list, had hit the ground running, and by Wynne's teens had made United Nations delegate, paving the way for his daughter's future. Still, he thought it couldn't hurt for her to know how to use her wings adequately, providing lessons to train her when Alice wasn't looking. The lessons gave Wynne a taste of her true capabilities, leading to her eventual desire to break free of the lifestyle Warren had chained himself to, and to answer the call of heroics. Though she tried to assert her individuality in a brief period of rebellion, eventually it was made clear that she couldn't fight her destined path, and she gave in, following in her father's footsteps as UN delegate.

As fate would have it, there eventually came a time when the Descendants Academy came under the UN's scrutiny. As the only mutant member of the United Nations, naturally Wynne was pinpointed as the one person who could offer the humans the best insight into the workings of the Academy. And so it was decided that she would be the one sent to understand how the Academy was run, and whether it would be beneficial to the country to exert control over these would-be heroes - a view that Wynne had to share, out of necessity.





h e x c o d e x // x #6E6E6E x // x f a c e c l a i m x // x gaia weiss x // x c r e a t o r x // x barnes x // x c s x // x mjolnir


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[img]http://placehold.it/5x40/6E6E6E/6E6E6E[/img] [img]http://placehold.it/15x40/6E6E6E/6E6E6E[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/VQdzuG1.jpg[/img][font=times][size=120][b][color=transparent]x[/color][i][color=#6e6e6e]W Y N N E[/color] [color=transparent]x[/color] [color=#6e6e6e]W O R T H I N G T O N[/color] [color=transparent]x[/color][/i][/size][/b] [b]• [color=transparent]x[/color] h e x [color=transparent]x[/color] // [color=transparent]x[/color] 6e6e6e [color=transparent]x[/color] •[/b][/font]

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So begins...

Wynne Worthington's Story

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
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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
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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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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"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: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington

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Astrid stared down at her dress with contempt. It was archaic, even she knew that and she realized she should have paid some shopping suggestion more mind but she didn't think she'd care what she wore until the time finally came around.

They were ordered to be presentable and on their best behavior and she was sure, at the back of her mind that she would never achieve such a standard when she felt under-dressed or worse, dressed for the wrong decade entirely. She blew out her lips and sighed accepting her fate, but then a knock came upon her door. Astrid swung the door open without even considering a potential thread or the possibility of danger.

"Is this a bad time?"

Astrid grinned and enveloped her dad in a hug. “There’s always time for you. What’s that?”
She drew away gesturing the large black bag and stepping aside so he may enter.

“Ah, well this is your gala gown. If you'll take it,” he added quickly. “I know in a lot of ages, cultures, traditions, the female picks her own dress but I thought I'd try something different. And I thought it'd match your eyes,” he said looking at the protective case like he had x-ray vision and could see it again.

She smiled warmly and pulled him in for another hug. “I love it already,” she assured. Then her face fell and her heart sunk. “So you know what the gala's for?” she guessed.

He couldn't suppress his sigh. “I know what it's for,” he answered simply. “I'm sorry I won't be in attendance. But you'll show your own case.” After minutes of silence passed by, he spoke again. “You should start to get ready. They'll look for any excuse to show the academy is a bad influence. Including tardiness and any old avenger coming through the doors.”

Astrid flicked up a small smile but nodded and obeyed, taking the new dress and heading to her room. “Dad?”

“Yes?”

“What would happen if they deemed the academy unfit? Or the management of it, unfit?”

“I think you know, Astrid. Whatever happens though, it's not the end of the world and we got each other, alright?”

The corner of her lips twisted and turned between a frown and smile. Steve always seemed to say the right things. “Alright.”

From the other side of the door, she could tell he was smiling too. “Alright then. Have a good time at the gala.”

* * * * *

After a shower, Astrid blow dried her hair and began to style it, curling it tightly so it would drop to gentle waves by the time her makeup was done. She applied some silver eye shadow, dark eyeliner and mascara to make her blue eyes stand out, and some foundation and blush to give her complexion a little more color and smooth effect. With her gala image ready to go, Astrid closed her eyes and mentally had to prepare herself to be kind to the strong opinions she disagreed with. No smart little comment or snide remark would fall under the noses of mentors or officials.

Astrid willed her muscles to move finally and carry her to the lifts for the ballroom. When the lift came to a halt, she forced a smile and entered the space. Something only Tony and Bruce could make and put together with the combination of brains and fortune. Before she could settle in a seat, her attention shifted to the echoing tap on the microphone before Mr. Thaddeus Ross spoke. Astrid paused and stood to the side to hear the important speech.

A blonde took to the stage on cue, said her part and left again. Now the UN were infiltrating the academy? And Tony just allowed it. Astrid turned her head in case her eyes betrayed her by showing bitterness or disappointment. They weren't the enemy, just trying to look after the nations in their own way.



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Lilith had regained her composure and after some freshening up, actually half looked forward to getting all dolled up for the event. And to see others in their formal attire, people she wouldn't dream of looking flash and sharp, in a tux or nice dress.

Lilith made her way down and grabbed herself a table and seat just to scope out the tone of tonight. Of course her wicked mind had registered her more reserved friend by the bar and thought about requesting a dance, but she wouldn't want to inflict such discomfort and strain on Nathaniel. He was saving his more charismatic and outstanding side for a sweeter blonde.

"Hello there young lady," a man's voice greeted her.

She turned around and offered a smile to the male with a drink of wine in his hand. "Hello."

"Are you part of this freak show because I mean...you couldn't be...Whether they say they're human or unlucky, they're all mutants to me, all the same. They all have some element of unnatural disease and desire, and these are the people we 'depend' on," he scoffed and sipped his drink.

ImageLilith narrowed her eyes slightly. "I wouldn't say they're all the same or all mutants."

"We just roll over and give them the key to the cities. Get our own men, police, swat teams, the army, to stand down because freaks of nature exist. Do you know how much damage they cost? We're always cleaning up after their mess." He carried on letting his degrading opinions fly out his mouth not seeming to notice or care for Lilith's hint of disapproval. She rested her cheek on her hand and paid a good look around her, though she looked more bored. Had she been somebody less patient and more abrupt, his head might have been slammed into the table or he could be thrown out a fancy window, decapitated, stabbed, shot. "..And you can put that on record," he concluded.

Lilith imagined him as the punching bag for a moment, how her thorn shot out and impaled him, slicing between his ribs, puncturing the lung and coming out the other side.

"I'm going to have to be honest with you,"
she interrupted, "if you keep talking, I'll give you and your boys another mess to clean up when you feel the thorns' embrace." He froze up and went rigid like prey to predator. "It's men like you that make me want to - " she cut off, catching the eyes of Mr. Pennyworth. The frail old man had the watchful eyes of a hawk and maybe enhanced hearing by the way he looked at her.

Lilith sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple to experience a pain unlike any other. "I'm sorry, I'm known for my terrible sense of humor. I couldn't hurt a fly," she chuckled coyly reaching for the man's arm. "That can be off the record," she gave another embarrassed laugh.

"And thorns," he added laughing, "what could they do? Oh I need a band aid, lookout."

Lilith flashed a smile at him when internally she was on fire. She was fine to belittle herself for the sake of peace, but nature and underestimating it's damage, it's worth. It was a hatred she didn't know she had until now. She hadn't ever wished for help either before now, and it wasn't as much as helping her as helping the man.



[Lost my little Lily's coding so back to this for now.]

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Xavier Strange Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Zachary Drake

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After leaving the little breakfast party at Jack's place, Xavier returned to his own penthouse and prepared for anything he needs for the gala coming up tonight. He has agreed beforehand that he and Zachary will be 'dates' tonight, since both of them didn't have anyone to tag along. They will simply keep each other company like always. Both of them are born for social events like this so it's never too much of a big deal for them, even if all the big boys will be gathering here tonight. Xavier knows that among those who will show up today, quite few would keep an eye on him since they outright say that they cannot trust anything of mystical nature, and brushing them off as mere heresies in the modern age of technology and science and things as such. But he just needs to act like his usual self, and what can goes wrong?

As the clock ticks away, time flies like a flash and it was eventually time to attend the gala. When all that needed to be done is finished, Xavier took his leave and made his way to Zachary's apartment.



Zachary admitted he felt a little bit left-out when he was in Frankie's apartment. Nathaniel and the little Spidey seemed to really have a time by themselves. They would make a rather unlikely couple though, if he must say. But the way he looks at it, it seemed that perhaps it was majorly from Nathaniel rather than reciprocated. He's not the one to poke into others' private affairs, but it would be rather interesting to see how this would turn out.

After finished with the preparations for the gala, he was about to leave for Xavier's place before his phone rung. Someone was calling him using Messenger. Turning on the front camera, he saw none other than his dad waving to him from the other side. "Yo there, lil' guy. How's thing? It's been forever. You're looking good." Bobby greeted his son. It appears that he was somewhere outside.

"Hey, dad. Everything's good over here. You're not coming tonight?"

"Well, they sent me an invitation, but too bad I got caught in some 'business' tonight. Galas are your things, not mine. You know that."

Zachary chuckled, "I sure am. I've just gotten back from Xavier's today too. The kids were nice. I suppose I know how you feel now, huh?"

"And you'll be even better than I once was. Got a date with you yet?"

"No, everyone's already got theirs, it seemed. I'm going with Xavier."

"Dr. Strange's son, was it? Well, I heard some rumors about him too. So, all big guys are gathering there tonight, huh?"

"Yeah, that's should tell you how much of a big deal it is. I'm actually worried that this is too much of a perfect opportunity for anyone to wreck havoc."

"Well, what's there for you to ever worried about? You can just freeze their asses, like you always do. I'm sure you can handle anything just fine. Besides, you've got powerful friends, you can just count on them."

"Yeah, I suppose so. Thanks, dad."

"Just checking in every once in a while to see how you're doing. I'm off now. Be strong, lil' guy."

"Love you." Zachary winked with his dad and turned off the screen.



Xavier and Zachary walked together to where the gala was taken place. As expected, it's already been filled with people, most of which are all famous figures and people with powers. On the other side of the room, they can see Thaddeus Ross conversing with the mentors. They decided to split and socialize, and got each other's back when needed.

Xavier was going to take a drink by the bar, until he notices some familiar faces he once saw on the television. The Worthingtons. Obviously, the hero Angel who is the only mutant to work for UN would be here. Xavier has been wanting to meet them for quite a while now, so now it's a perfect opportunity to make a good impression. "Mr. Worthington, Mrs. Worthington. It is a pleasure to meet you two. We of the Descendants are most privileged to have you here tonight with us." He approached, greeted them and extended his arm towards Mr. Worthington with a smile, "My name is Xavier Strange. I'm a student of this Academy. I hope you will have a fine time with us tonight."

He then shifted his attention to the younger girl, whom he assumed to be their daughter, "And you, stunning lady, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

Meanwhile, Zachary was going around and conversing with people, until he come across Frankie by the bar. But she seemed to be in a bit of a hurry though. Probably because she is greeting Thaddeus and others heads. "Hey Spidey, good luck." He winked and encouraged her as she approached the bar to get a drink.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Zachary Drake Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

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"Yup, though I sort of wish I wasn't," Caitria said from the other side of the door before opening it to face Wren. "Let's go and try not to fall asleep."

Wren smiled down at Caitria, feeling abnormally tall in heels. But, if she didn't... Well, she'd be tripping over her gown more than she already was. Still, she smirked, offering the blonde her arm like she was a somewhat civilized date. "Well, don't you look hot." She couldn't help but chuckle, seeing as how her friend took her advice with the red.

Once on the elevator, she sighed softly, lifting her left foot to adjust the strap on her stiletto. "Hopefully, we can stay out of those officials' gray hairs for the entire night," Caitria said jokingly.

Wren laughed, tugging at the hems of her sleeves. "I doubt Wade Wilson's daughter is first on their list of friends to make." She looked up at the digital screen above the elevator doors showing their slow decent. "A fucking leash..." Wren scoffed under her breath, tapping her heel on the ground. "Five bucks says if the U.N. gets their way, they'll stick trackers in us... Give us a serial number."

The elevator came to a stop, the doors slowly opening. But Wren just stood there for a long moment, taking a deep breath. "Positive note... No matter how much I drink, I can't get drunk." She nodded her head towards Caitria, before exiting the lift and heading towards the source of the music. "I wonder if I slept with Thaddeus Ross, if that'd be enough and we can all go home?" She chuckled, looking over at Caitria as they entered the large ballroom.

Wren's eyes widened as she took everything in. There were so many politicians in the room that they nearly out numbered the students. She couldn't believe the lengths that the Academy went to, just to prove that we should have the right to work outside the law. They got an orchestra... A mother fucking orchestra. How in the hell was she was supposed to get down to the sound of a violin? She raised a hand to brush back a loose curl, scanning the room for the bar. Her gaze stopped when she not only found the bar, but a tall, dark and handsome drink of water standing beside it.

"...Or him," Wren said with a playful smirk on her face as she nodded her head towards the stranger. She started to walk towards the bar, pivoting on her heels to face Caitria as she walked backwards. "Don't hate me." She blew her friend a kiss, before facing the bar once again, walking towards it with a breath of fresh confidence and attitude.

Wren came to a stop before the counter, a few feet over from the handsome stranger. She raised her hand to get the bartender's attention. "Martini, dirty." As she waited for her drink, she couldn't help but make sideways glances at him. He cleaned up well, like a man who dresses like that on a regular basis. Tall, dark and handsome didn't even begin to describe it. He was taller than her, even with her heels on. He almost had a vampiric type of appearance, even though Wren was kicking herself over that comparison. Her attention was drawn back to the bartender when he served Wren her drink.

After taking a long drink, Wren finally turned to face the specimen of a male. Just as she parted her lips to speak towards him, a voice boomed throughout the hall. "Hello. May I have your attention, please...." Thaddeus Ross, she presumed. "Now, on behalf of the United Nations, I'd like to introduce Wynne Worthington to you." A young blonde... With wings took the spot light besides Thaddeus. Wren didn't know who she was, but she already didn't like her. She looked about as perfect as perfect could be. And well, in any girls' eyes that intimidating and a no go.

"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."

Wren snorted then quickly took a long drink of her martini. "None of you have joined us... yet" She clicked her tongue in her mouth, letting her gaze fall to her glass, running her index finger along the brim. So now the U.N. is planting their own fucking spies right in the middle of everything. Did that mean Wren was expected to behave perfectly all the time now? That wasn't going to fly. At that rate she might as well let Thaddeus put the noose around her neck right now.

Of course, now Ms. Perfect-Blonde was going to speak. Wren downed the rest of her drink, then tapped the empty glass with her finger, signaling the bartender for another. "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."

With a fresh drink, Wren went to leave the bar almost forgetting the gent beside her. She had half a mind at this point to just leave. Maybe he was a plant too? I mean he looked around the same age as the rest of the Descendants but how was she to know if he was with U.N. or not. After all, she's never seen him before, so that gives a pretty strong indication that he may be. Wren took a deep breath, taking a half step towards him. "So... to avoid the risk of putting my foot in my mouth, I have to ask... Are you U.N.?"




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tobias lehnsherr
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"Yes, of course. A moment, please," Petra responded before disappearing back into her apartment.

"Thanks," Tobias called after her as he waited patiently for her return.

Petra returned promptly, unlocking her phone before handing it to him. "And in exchange... you can help me carry it for the evening, please." She then hooked her hand around his elbow, guiding him towards the elevator. "Deep breath. We'll be there together."

"Yeah," he sighed softly. He let his gaze fall down to the unlocked phone. Tobias hesitated for a moment before tapping his fingers along the screen, and bringing the phone to his ear. "Hey mom, it's Tob—" He was quickly cut off by Mystique who began freaking out and rambling on the phone. "Mom... Mom... Raven!" She finally grew quiet, allowing him to speak his peace. "I don't know if he has my phone tapped. I called you from Petra's..." His gaze drifted over towards her for a moment, before looking back down at the ground.

"Look, I need you to listen to me. You need to leave and go into hiding... Now." He looked up, watching the floor numbers tick by as they got closer to the desired level. "No, no. Just go... I can't tell you, just trust me please... If you need to contact me, call Petra. Just get out, get safe. Don't risk being seen as yourself." He sighed softly as his mother finally conceded. "Thank you... yes, I love you too. Ok, bye."

Tobias took Petra's phone, sliding it into the breast pocket of his blazer to keep it as she asked. He took a long moment before finally looking over at her. He clears his throat. "I'll explain everything to you tomorrow... I promise." He raised his free hand to softly pat hers that rested in the crook of his arm.

As if on cue, the elevator doors open letting the soft sounds of classical music flood from the hall towards them. This was a bad idea and Tobias knew it. Sure, there were other children of villains here at the academy... But, none of them had a parent currently heading a terrorist faction. It's different. "I don't suppose you're ready for this. I'm not," Petra said, vocalizing her nervousness.

Tobias sighed, looking down at her. "Not really." He lead her towards the ballroom, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. He came to a stop before the entrance, looking towards Petra one last time. "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." He didn't want her getting heated because someone says that Tobias is a piece of shit or anything else. He can handle it, he's got thick skin. And this gala is about so much more than his own pride.

With that, he lead them both into the ballroom. To say that the sight of everything was a shock, was a definite understatement. It seemed that the second Tobias crossed the threshold, all the laughter was sucked out of the room like a vacuum. All eyes were on him, drilling into the back of his skull like lasers as she decided to beeline for the orchestra. At least he could pretend to drown out everyone's comments by listening to the musicians play.

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frankie parker
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Frankie tried not to nervous fidget too much as she made her way to the bar. Her fingers couldn't stop tapping and wiggling as she stared straight ahead. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard someone come up beside her. "Hey Spidey, good luck."

She gave a weak nervous laugh, looking over at Zach. "Thanks," she gulped trying not to let her nerves overwhelm her. Frankie gave him a feint wave of her fingers before continuing towards the bar. It took her all but two seconds to order Thaddeus' drink, but when it came to her own she was stumped. What the hell should she order? Liquor might make her look like she needs to alcohol to calm herself... Which she does, but she doesn't want to look like it. Non alcoholic might make her look like she's trying too hard to look perfect. Something too fruity or embellished will be a pain to drink without looking like an idiot.

"I'd suggest champagne," the bartender said towards her, almost like he read her mind.

Frankie chuckled, raising her hand to rub her temples. "Champagne, yeah... perfect." She smiled towards the man as he laughed softly, pouring her drink. As she waited she saw more people flood into the hall, some looking ecstatic, others terrified. At least she wasn't the only one. Just as she received the drinks, Thaddeus got up and announced the Worthingtons, along with Wynne's presence at the academy. Frankie hoped that this would be a good thing but something deep down said that it was a test. She wouldn't avoid the girl, Frankie wasn't like that but the fact that the U.N. felt the need to have someone join the academy on their behalf, showed their trust.. Or lack of it.

Once Thaddeus and Wynne were done speaking, Frankie grabbed the drinks and turned around. She was stopped abruptly by a walking wall. Her gaze slowly drifted up until she registered that it was Nathaniel. "Hey Nate," she said softly with a smile. Frankie opened her arms to give him a hug but froze, looking between the drinks in her hands. Instead, she shifted to her tip toes, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "You look handsome."

She smiled towards him one last time before, regretfully, heading back towards Thaddeus. Frankie held his drink out towards him. "Here you go, sir."

"Thank you, Ms. Parker." Thaddeus took the drink, before holding it up towards her. "To the academy?"

"The academy," Frankie said as convincingly as possible before tapping her glass against his.

They both took a drink before Thaddeus decided to take the conversation down a deeper and more pertinent route. "This academy is quite impressive. What are your thoughts on some of the other students?"

Frankie took another drink preparing herself, hoping she doesn't say the wrong thing at any point. "Everyone here has a unique set of skills to bring to the table. We were specifically chosen by Mr. Stark and Mr. Wayne because they saw the potential all of us possess. I feel it is a great honor to be here, training alongside them. I've learn invaluable skills here, that I wouldn't have learned else where.... The difference between right and wrong, how to make decisions under pressure, what makes the difference between a hero and a villain —"

"Speaking of villains..." Shit. Thaddeus didn't even let Frankie continue her thought before he got down to brass tacks. Of course, this is what he wanted to talk about. The elephants in the room. "I've noticed that a fair amount of students enrolled here are descendants of some notorious villains."

"Well, yes. The founders see the potential in everyone. They don't judge based on parentage... We aren't our parents. I mean if you look at Wanda Maximoff for example, she was on the wrong side, but then joined the Avengers. All people are capable of good as long as they're shown that they are. Everyone here wants to help the world... Not hurt it."

Thaddeus had the decency to listen to her argument objectively. "And what about the Lehnsherr boy? Tobias, is it?" He asked, his gaze drifting over towards the tall tattooed male that stood near the orchestra.

"I have never seen him be anything but chivalrous and polite. People are scared of him because of his appearance and his father... But, I don't think he could kill a mouse. I mean, he came here tonight regardless of others thinking his presence would reflect negatively on the academy. I just think it shows our potential and how everyone is capable of greatness. A second chance to be better than their parents."

"A valid argument. But it could also be argued that it could all be a facade... A mask to make Tobias look like he's not like his father, but in fact he's a plant. The ultimate spy, directly feeding intel to his father." He takes a drink, glancing towards her. He never once spoke in a condescending way, but like adults having a intellectual debate. He was respectable which made this easier for Frankie. "It's different... Compared to someone like Ross McCulloch who is just a human with a fancy gun. His weapon isn't his mind and he could be stripped of it, if need be."

"Yes, that is true. But neither Ross nor Tobias has ever lashed out against another. Tobias may not be an extrovert like Ross but that doesn't make him a bad person."

"And what about this Nathaniel Santos?"

That question caught Frankie more off guard than she had expected. She could feel herself wanting to become more defensive than diplomatic, like someone was attacking her best friend. She took a deep breath trying to remain as level headed as possible. "What about him?"

"Well, his father was feral on venom. It must have passed onto his son."

"Nathaniel is sweeter and more gentle than half of the hero born descendants here. I'd trust him with my life... Regardless of his parentage."

"Hmm," Thaddeus mused as he finished his drink. "Well thank you for your insight Ms. Parker. I hope you enjoy the festivities."

With that, Thaddeus left Frankie to stand there frozen. Did she say the wrong thing? Did she say the right thing? Of course she didn't say the right thing. He just left her standing there like an idiot. Frankie's heart felt like it was in her throat, and her head was spinning. She quickly reached out a hand to grab the back of a near by chair to stabilize her. She took a few deep breaths before downing what remained of her champagne. Why in the hell did the mentors make me do this?




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ross mcculloch
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Riley opened the door, looking dapper as ever. "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 then pretended to tuck an invisible flower behind Ross' ear and offer him his arm.

"Ey guess ey can live without da flowers... As long as I've got me honey bunch," Ross says teasingly as his free hand playfully pokes Riley's cheek. It was nice having a friend to go with. Luckily for them, it looks like the severity of the gala kinda dampened the appeal of having a date to the event. After all, it wasn't about going and having a good time. They had to prove they don't need rules, a leash or whatever else the U.N. had to throw at them. But, the moral support of a good friend is always nice to have... Especially when dealing with political pieces of shite.

"Well, everyone must be awaiting our arrival already. Shall we?"

"Ey doubt J.A.R.V.I.S. would let us ditch the ole gala, even if ey wanted to," Ross replied, leading him towards the elevator.

"That would be correct sir. The mentors have made it very clear that every Descendant must be present for the gala."

"Thank ya, circuits." Ross saluted towards the ceiling before pressing the button to call the elevator. He sighed once they both entered the lift and began descending. "Ey wonder how long we have ta stick 'round before we can dip out?"

He looked over to Riley but his question was answered before Riley could reply. "Mr. Stark and Mr. Wayne request your presence until our honored guests leave at the end of the evening."

"No one asked da peanut gallery," Ross groaned. He at least liked the tinniest possibility of being able to leave once their presence was severely unnoticed but it looked like J.A.R.V.I.S. was watching them all like a hawk. Go figure. He stood there adjusting his jacket numerous times before the doors finally slid open.

Ross' stomach turned just hearing the orchestral music echo down the hall towards them. Was it too late to drop out of the academy? Run away? Turn to the dark side and become a villain? They all sounded more appealing rather dealing with a bunch of politician idiots try to convince them that they need laws, and rules when it comes to protecting the world. He ran his hands back through his hair a couple times, before looking towards Riley, motioning for him to go first. "Well no turnin' back now."

They entered through the double doors that lead to the giant ballroom. To be honest, Ross wasn't sure if he even knew this was here. It was huge, but he couldn't remember ever seeing it. Then again, he rarely went anywhere aside from the simulation floors and his friends' penthouses. But still, something like this... you think he'd notice it. He stops dead in the entrance, his right hand resting on his abdomen. "Ey think em goin' to vomit... Er ya goin' to vomit? Em goin' to vomit."

Ross was about to take a step into the ballroom and froze when his gaze locked on Petra. God, did she look gorgeous. He always knew she was beautiful, there was no doubt there. But... damn. He should approach her. Offer her a drink, or a dance... Or... No. Maybe just go straight to the bar and get really drunk. No, he couldn't do that either, drunk equals a bad impression on the suits. He continued to toil over what to do. When he realized he was staring, he looked over at Riley like a dumb Scottish idiot. "Ey uh... What do ey do?... Drinks, right? Drinks?"

Maybe Riley could make out some sort of a sentence or something in that somewhere. Hopefully his friend's sanity was more in tact than Ross' and that he understand the scot's gibberish. Or, you know, Ross could just stand there like an idiot for the next couple of hours until the gala was over. If he didn't move soon, he'd probably just black out anyways.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington

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Ulrich smoothed down his tux and sighed. The son of somebody that wanted to dominate at least two worlds was going to a gala to prove everything was under management in the academy and 'good.' The only reason it was in one piece was the self-control of the students though, good and bad and no mentor or UN official could change that. Ulrich truly didn't get people. Maybe they did need to be ruled so they wouldn't squabble among themselves.

When there was nothing else to do, no other path to procrastinate he headed down to where the gala was being held. Of course he had considered asking somebody which soon enough translated to anybody, then nobody. An alien wasn't exactly the most eligible bachelor or greatest partner choice. More importantly he didn't want to be responsible for any drunkards or accidents happening around him.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie once in the ballroom. Ulrich barely got a few steps around the place before an announcement happened. Some irrational part of him thought it would be some scolding towards him or a receded invitation but some old guy with the mic simply called upon a younger blonde girl after introducing her purpose.
"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."
Ulrich almost gave a polite modest clap and seemed to stop himself in time.
It wasn't the speech to ignite passion in the academy students exactly but, he just figured it was the norm and what douchey humans in suits wanted to see.

Ulrich scanned the ballroom until he found one of the more approachable people. Ulrich sat by Astrid. "You look stressed,"
he pointed out, folding one leg atop of the other. "What about?" he inquired, cocking his head to the side. "Shouldn't you talk to the spy?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

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Cas had spent the short while he'd been at the gala drinking and chatting nonchalantly with random high society women. His eyes drifted around the room as he spoke, and Cas found himself unbearably bored by the uppity people surrounding him. It's mid-thought that Cas notices two women enter the room, their dresses both that of a firey red. His eyes follow the red-head as she makes her way through the swarth of people. Not only did her dress make her stand out, but there was something about those large, saucer like green eyes that contrasted against her flame hair and drew Cas' attention.

When Cas realised she was making her way to the bar, he averted his gaze, so as to not get caught staring. That wouldn't be a great first impression. Instead, Cas turned back to the woman who stood in front of him - he assumed she must be the wife of a wealthy politician or something. Resting an elbow on the bar, Cas ran his eyes over her outfit before flicking back to her face and smiling. "You look lovely Mrs..?" he breathed, placing more of a rasp into his voice as he often did to sound more seductive. It was a weird trick of his, but one that never failed him. "Miss Rhodes." She is quick to interject, letting it be known that she's not married. So, not a politician's wife afterall, interesting.

Cas keeps his sights on Miss Rhodes in front of him, while the redhead orders herself a drink. Best not to seem too eager. It's at this point that Cas' attention is pulled away from both women and toward where Thaddeus Ross stood; behind him was a woman - beautiful,
and she had wings? Intriguing. Captivated, Cas listens to her speech as she mentions that she'll be joining the Academy. Good, Cas wouldn't be the only new kid on the block.

Wynne steps back once her speech is over and the room erupts back into light chatter and Cas follows her as she moves around the room elegantly. This gala had just gotten an awful lot more interesting in the past fifteen or so minutes.

Not forgetting the beautiful woman that stood just a few inches away, fresh drink in hand. Cas is about to introduce himself before she beats him to it, well, kind of. "So... to avoid the risk of putting my foot in my mouth, I have to ask... Are you U.N.?" Taken aback a little, Cas simply lets out a small chuckle at first, unsure of what to respond. His eyes flit back over to where Miss Rhodes stood, looking around her for a new person to approach as it seems Cas had brushed her off. Oops, he wasn't usually so rude to a single woman.

Oh well, the beauty at the bar had taken his attention and Cas was not about to let her walk off, as she looked just like she was about to. "No, I'm not," Extending a hand out for her to shake, he continues, "I'm Cassius Thompson." He introduced himself, yet still kept it vague. Cas liked to keep a sense of mystery about him. He had already figured she was most likely a student at this Academy, and her question only made that more apparent.

Tilting his head ever so slightly to the side, Cas really turns on the charm as he places a soft smile on his face. "And who might you be?" Quickly continuing, "Clearly you're not U.N. either - Having such a beautiful agent would be far too distracting." Taking his bourbon from its place on the bar, Cas sips at it, his dark eyes focused on hers as he waits for a response.

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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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: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington

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#, as written by mjolnir
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tobias lehnsherr
magnetox|xoutfitx|x#57428C

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As they made their way towards the orchestra, Petra grabbed them both a champagne flute from a passing waiter, then held one out towards him. Tobias silent toasted it towards her, then took a sip. "If Mystique - Raven - is in trouble, she can go to my mother's." He stopped mid step, turning to face her. "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."

Petra smiled, obviously trying not draw any attention towards them. Luckily, anything they said is quickly masked by the music but facial expressions don't need to be heard. She then reached her hand into his blazer, taking out her phone. "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," she looked up at him, gauging his expression. He was hesitant, not wanting to put his sister in trouble along with his mother.

After a moment, he took a long drink, nodding his head towards her in agreement. "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." Petra nodded her head. "Thank you. I'll see you soon." The phone call ended before she handed the phone to him. "Text her now. My mother will find her."

Tobias nodded his head, taking the phone. "Thanks, Petey." He leaned forward, placing a kiss on her cheek before he ran his fingers along the phone.

Compose text to : Raven
"Help is coming. Don't trust anyone else beside Wanda. Petra and I will come see you as soon as possible."

He nodded his head towards Petra before slipping her phone back into the breast pocket of his blazer. Tobias took another drink of his champagne as his attention was drawn towards Thaddeus Ross as he introduced a young blonde woman with wings. Apparently, she'd be joining the academy. Something about that unsettled him. Not like Tobias was ever on his worst behavior, but knowing he was going to be watched turned his stomach.

"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."

Like Petra, Tobias clapped his hands in a polite manner before finishing off his drink. He was almost certain that Petra heard Thaddeus Ross mention Lehnsherr. He tried his best not to let it bother him, instead passing his empty glass off to a waiter. He slipped his hands into his pant pockets, taking a few steps closer towards the orchestra. Although he didn't need to look back over his shoulder, he just had a guttural feeling that someone was making their way towards him. Eventually a blonde stepped into his peripheral view. He ran a hand back through his hair before turning to face her.

Wynne Worthington. Tobias understood why her father earned the name 'angel', which he was certain was passed down to her. She had an ethereal look to her, and he might have even found her attractive... if not for the circumstances. Considering she is basically a plant in the academy... And her less than subtle antics of beelining straight for him. She wasn't one for subtlety.

"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 her hand towards him.

"I do believe a piano is considered a musical instrument," Tobias responded, removing his right hand from his pocket, extending it to meet hers. "Tobias Lehnsherr, although I'm sure you knew that already." After he released her hand, he waved his index and middle finger towards a waiter. He grabbed two new, filled flutes of champagne, offering one to Wynne. He cleared his throat, holding his glass up in a polite toast. "Welcome to the academy Ms. Worthington."




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ross mcculloch
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Riley obviously had no idea how to handle Ross, like at all. Of course, Ross was acting like an idiot. He didn't really need to be supported, but allowed his friend to usher him into the hall. He couldn't help but notice from the corner of his eye when Petra waved towards them. He was half tempted to raise a hand and wave it obnoxiously like Forest Gump, but quickly realized that it wasn't toward him before he could embarrass himself too much.

"Yes, alright, come on, drinks. Let's get you something strong and a seat." Riley moved Ross through the room like a child. He wasn't that messed up, or at least he didn't think so. But instead of fighting it, he allowed his friend to guide him to a table. He took a seat with a sigh. "You stay here."

Ross rolled his eyes. "'Em not five, ya bastard," he called after Riley as he walked towards the bar. As he sat there, he scanned the room. He was surprised at how many people were there, but that didn't make him nervous. It was the gorgeous red head on the other side of the hall. He wanted to go over and talk to her, or ask her to dance... Something. But, he felt like the second he'd get over there, he would stumble over his tongue. Maybe it was worth it.

Just as he was about to stand up and march over there, Riley placed a drink down in front of him. "That's for you. Do you want food?"

"Aye think 'em fine, mum." Ross wanted to give his friend the bird but refrained, grabbing the glass before him. Just as he was about to take a drink, he gave Riley a deadpan look. "Scotch?... Because 'em scottish? really?" He laughed weakly. Instead of taking his time with the drink, he chugged it quickly. With a deep breath, he slammed the empty glass down on the table.

Ross stood up, pushing his chair in abruptly. Now with liquid courage was his best opportunity to approach Petra. He cleared his throat, adjusting his blazer. "Aye um... Wish meh luck." He patted Riley on the back before he made his way towards the orchestra. He tried not to stare too long at Petra, may even looking like he was going to listen to the music. But, who was he kidding... What's the point in lying about it or pretending like he was going over there for any other reason.

As he approached, Ross slowed down his pace. Apparently in the time it took him to cross the hall, the Worthington girl approached Petra and Tobias. Of course, the blonde was more interested in the academy's resident attraction, son of Magneto. Perfect for him. He moved around the group until he was standing before Petra, smiling down at her as he ran a hand back through his hair. "Hey Red—" he cleared his throat, "Petra."

He rubbed the back of his neck, taking another step towards her. "You, uh... Ya look really beautiful." Ross' gaze drifted over towards Wynne and Tobias who, luckily, weren't paying attention. He was nervous, probably blushing so that his face was as read as her hair. After a moment, he smiled again, taking a deep breath. "Would ya like a drink? Wait, you have a drink." He laughed nervously, pointing to her glass. "Actually... Ey was wondering if you'd like to dance?" Ross then extended his right hand out towards her. Dear God he hoped she'd say yes. If not, Riley would need to get him a hell of a lot more alcohol.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson

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#, as written by mjolnir
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wren wilson
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Wren slowly leaned back in her seat, resting her hands upon her knee. Unlike Lilith, she didn't try to conceal her own grin, while her gaze drifted towards her friend mischievously. The man seemed to search for something to say, squirming in his seat but was unable to find a response. It wasn't often Wren waved her name in people's face. Poison Ivy wasn't that notorious, Pamela Isley even less so. Anonymity is important to a lot of people, but not Wade Wilson. Everyone knew him and what he was capable of. Taunting that in an asshole's face was worth it occasionally.

Good behavior is subjective, especially in Wren's opinion. She might not have been the most selfless person, but she couldn't stand by and listen to a condescending suit. It's one thing seeing a man be a patronizing asshole to another woman. But, it was even more unsettling when they talked to them like they belonged in a zoo. Her fingers toyed with the hem of the slit in her gown, trying not to seem too overly pleased at the situation.

Wren's attention was drawn away from the not so friendly stares she made towards the man when she felt fingers graze her arm. Her fingers stopped twiddling with the hem of her gown as she slightly glanced behind her from the corner of her eyes. She couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth as she looked over at Lilith with a quirked brow.

"I apologize for the interruption," Cassius' charming voice hummed behind her, speaking towards her blonde company. "However, Ms. Wilson promised me a dance, so I'm afraid I'll have to steal her away." Wren's lips pursed in a slight smirk, glancing down slightly as she noticed the emphasis on her name.

“Steal away,” Lilith said with a quirked brow. “And Wren, always a pleasure.”

"Try to have fun tonight, Lil." Wren slowly uncrossed her legs, extending her hand to rest it in Cassius' that he offered to her. Before she stood, she looked backed towards Lilith giving her a 'us freaks have to stick together' look. "You know where to find me if things get..." her gaze drifted to the invisible present company of the idiotic male. "Dull."

Wren allowed herself to stand, her eyes now locked on Cassius'. Her right hand slowly slipped from his grasp, trailing up his forearm and hooking in the bend of his arm. She couldn't help but notice the almost too perfectly timed cuing of the orchestra. She doubted Cas had enough time to work that much magic in such a short time, but it was quite ideal timing. "I'm impressed," she said, finally speaking up as they made their way to the open floor of the hall. "You worked faster than I expected."

As they walked, Wren couldn't help but notice some of the lingering glances of others, particularly the guests that plagued the Academy's halls that evening. Cassius was a new, fresh off the boat, student at the academy. But, she couldn't expect the suits not to know who he was. For some reason, they all seemed to know everyone and everything. With a father like his, she could see how he'd instantly be on their radars, similar to how Tobias was already under intense observation, evident to the winged newbie who was already chatting him up. It was safe to assume that all the U.N. pricks weren't the happiest that out of everyone at the academy, Cassius was walking arm and arm with Wren Wilson.

She slowed down as they came to stand somewhat center of the available dancing space. Wren's grasp on his arm slowly slipped as she moved to stand before Cassius. With a quirked brow, she noticed the glass of bourbon in his hand. She smirks slightly, taking a small step towards him. Her left hand moving forward to take hold of the drink, her fingers lightly brushing his hand as took it. "You need both hands to dance." With her gaze intent on his, she downed his drink and passed the empty glass off to a passing water. The alcohol effecting her like water. It'd take five kegs for Wren to even feel a buzz, let alone become drunk.

With a content sigh, Wren's left hand snakes up his right arm, resting upon his shoulder. She then brings her right hand up ever so slowly, placing it in his open palm. If she had to guess, the music was something of a waltz but last time Wren checked, she wasn't a dancing expert to know the difference, or steps needed for the different styles of dancing. Surprisingly, she wasn't quite sure what to say to the man. So far, she had done a majority of talking in her little game of cat and mouse. But there was no more chasing. There she stood, her arms around him ready to let the mysterious, handsome male lead her in a dance.




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frankie parker
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Frankie's hand grasped at her side as she looked up from the table. She had no idea if what she said to Thaddeus would help or hurt the academy. She expected the later. Why did she let her emotions get the better of her as she tried to have a diplomatic discussion? It was a rookie mistake that she'd kick herself over for sometime. Bruce or Tony should be in charge of dealing with Thaddeus, not her. She didn't like the pressure.

She took a deep breathe, glancing around the hall. Many of the other students had arrived, mingling amongst themselves, some with their guests. A soft smile graced Frankie's lips when she found Riley among the crowd, seeming to aid a very nervous looking Ross. She couldn't help but chuckle. Ross lived for parties, gatherings and any other excuse to let his ego shine. But, he currently looked like a terrified puppy. When Riley finally noticed her, his head tilted slightly as he waved for her to come join them.

Frankie's hand pushed off the chair she held onto for support, preparing to cross the room towards her friend. But, she stopped when she saw the people before her part and make way for someone pushing their way towards her. Her lips parted, inhaling sharply when she saw Nathaniel emerge from the people, stopping to stand before her. She couldn't help but laugh softly when he opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out. His cheeks flushed in the cute way they did when he was around her and struggled to find something to say, but she remained quiet and patient.

"You look beautiful..." the words finally stumbled out of his mouth, along with an awkward but sincere smile.

Frankie felt some of the stress and tension her interaction with Thaddeus cause slow melt away, able to take a deep, calming breath. "Thank you." She smiled softly.

Her attention turned towards the orchestra when a new song began. She instantly focused on Ross in his... Very Ross like green velvet blazer, beeling for Petra. No wonder he was nervous. She couldn't help but smile before her gaze was pulled towards a pool of red that crossed her line of sight. Frankie's brows furrowed together slightly when she noticed Wren being lead towards the dance floor by a dark and mysterious stranger. Not too long after, Bruce Wayne himself honored Lilith with a dance. That was nice, not often did the students actually get to interact with the founders. Of course, she was sure the founders and mentors alike were watching them all like hawks, prepared to step in whenever they put a toe out of line.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, a hand extended towards her. Frankie slowly looked down at the hand that was held out towards her, palm up in invitation. "Would you honor me with a dance, Francita?" Her gaze slowly moved up the arm until she was looking up at Nathaniel, the corner of his mouth pulled in a sweet, nervous smile.

Frankie's heart began to race in her chest as she stood before him. Nate has been her friend for awhile now. And she'd be lying if she said she hadn't grown found of him. She was always the one to invite him along with anything she did. The terminator that couldn't harm a fly and the heart of a teddy bear. For some reason this time sent her stomach in knots. For the first time, Nathaniel asked her... And not to be partners in a simulation like a protective friend.

She took a deep breath. Her hand slowly extended, before lightly resting in his open palm. Frankie tried to think of something to say. About time you asked... Do you really need to ask?... You dance?... "Of course," she finally replied, allowing her slender fingers to grasp his hand.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson
  1. RPGy

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Wren laughed at Caitria's comment. "I doubt Wade Wilson's daughter is first on their list of friends to make. A fucking leash..." Caitria sympathized with Wren as her friend scoffed under her breath, clacking her heel against the ground. "Five bucks says if the U.N. gets their way, they'll stick trackers in us... give us a serial number."

Caitria chuckled. "No bet. I don't have that much faith in the U.N."

The elevator arrived at the correct floor, letting out a soft ding! as the doors opened. Caitria watched Wren curiously as the latter took a deep breath. "Positive note... no matter how much I drink, I can't get drunk."

The two exited the elevator simultaneously. "Same 'ere. Ultrafast metabolism does that to you."

"I wonder if I slept with Thaddeus Ross, if that'd be enough and we can all go home?" Wren commented sardonically, chuckling as she glanced at Caitria. The blonde scoffed good-naturedly.

"Probably not. They all have a stick shoved up their asses."

Caitria glanced around the room warily - since when did that many politicians invest their time in the academy?

"... or him," Caitria turned to her redhead friend, who had a playful smirk on her face as she gazed across the room at a tall man who had definitely caught her eye. Wren turned around to face her blonde friend as she began walking in the man's direction. "Don't hate me." Wren blew Caitria a kiss and turned around, facing forward as she headed to the bar.

"Have fun," the blonde speedster's lips quirked into a smile as she gestured for her friend to approach the man.

Caitria turned in the direction of Thaddeus Ross as he began to speak. She raised an eyebrow, intrigued at the fact that a United Nations agent was joining the academy. She was sure that there were some out there who weren't very happy with the arrangement, but to be honest, Caitria herself couldn't care less whether or not this Wynne Worthington was a student.
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Thaleia decided to get a glass of Campari from the bar - after all, she really should take advantage of the gala's amenities. The brunette tilted the glass back as the bitter liqueur's flavor flooded her senses.

Unfortunately, the world wasn't going to spare Thaleia from the pain of the UN.

"Hello." Thaleia did all she could not to slam the glass on the bar and glare daggers at the woman who approached her. She couldn't possibly have seemed interesting enough to be approached by a goddamned UN official. Of course, the universe had to prove her wrong once again.

Thaleia nodded curtly at the woman, knowing it would be unwise for her to open her mouth. The redhead who had approached her (she probably towered a least a foot over Thaleia, considering those monster heels) wouldn't take it, however, and continued speaking. She sat down next to Thaleia at the bar, extending a hand as she introduced herself.

Thaleia glanced around her (she already forgot the official's name); was anyone else getting treatment like hers?

Thaleia was forced to swallow down the bitter taste in her mouth that most certainly did not come from her Italian liqueur. "Thaleia Castle," she muttered darkly, stiffly shaking the UN official's hand.

The redhead (seriously, what is her name?) paid no attention to Thaleia's rather brutish handshake, instead wrinkling her nose at the brunette's name. "Castle," she mused, an undertone in her voice Thaleia certainly did not appreciate. "Is your father Francis Castle?"

Thaleia stubbornly refused to reply, instead taking a long sip of her drink. Unfortunately, the UN official took that as a yes, and rambled on, disgust clear in her voice. "I heard about your father's death from... seven years ago? Poor girl, losing your parents at such a young age. But to be perfectly honest, Francis Castle never had the most pure intentions. He committed assassinations unapproved by the United Nations. He had enemies in the wrong places, and had to be stopped before he could get himself into a situation he could wouldn't be able to get out of."

At this point, Thaleia felt sorry for the poor glass that was clenched in her fist. How dare this woman say that. Thaleia might be distant, cold, and not your perfect chummy friend, but she did care. She cared about her friends, and her deceased father, who was more of a mentor resembling a military officer rather than a loving father. Thaleia upheld a code of honor, and she wasn't going to allow someone she considered scum to speak of someone the brunette respected like they were worse than the bullshit that came out of said scum's mouths.

"Are you insulting my father in my face?" she seethed, trying to keep her cool. "Saying that he deserved to be murdered?" Thaleia slammed her glass down with a thud, shooting the UN official a look that could kill. "Let me tell you this - I know my father had many enemies. I know that he was considered evil by the greater part of society." Thaleia narrowed her eyes. "But he got rid of those who he considered evil. That was his job, and that duty has been passed to me. If you say what he did was wrong, than you should consider his death wrong as well."

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

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




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

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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
magnetox|xoutfitx|x#57428C

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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
mirror masterx|xoutfitx|x#FF8D34

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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: 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 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
mirror masterx|xoutfitx|x#FF8D34

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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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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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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
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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
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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
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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
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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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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.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Andrew Mulligan Character Portrait: Thaleia Castle Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Astrid Rogers Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Zachary Drake Character Portrait: Mia Cage Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: Kezia Black

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#, as written by tigerz
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xxxxxxxxxk e z i a x b l a c k

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Kezia could hardly contain her own excitement over meeting the other students. She kept skipping down ahead of Nathaniel and Roman only to return gushing over how amazing it was going to be. "I'm gonna have all new sparring partners and maybe this time they won't break so easily!" She skipped away again adding in a twirl for a little flare. She returned yet again to inquire the boys over what it might be like. "Do you think they'll like the flowers? I wonder if they'll like my knife collection. Maybe we can even compare. I bet they'll love the flowers because I picked them out all by myself to make them feel better." She couldn't help but giggle as she skipped away again.

Despite whatever was troubling Roman, this was an amazing opportunity for her. She couldn't wait for the chance to make all new friends and have a great time at this school. It certainly would beat having to spar humans all day or listen to Roman complain about her methods. Maybe she'll even find someone who likes her methods like her friend Lilith. Lilith always encouraged her antics. Even Nathaniel accepted what made her different form everyone else.

The truth was, Kezia found it hard to keep friends. Making them was the simple part. She was an easily likable person. It was once people noticed her inability to cater to emotional needs that she lost them. It also didn't help that many people were not a fan of her enjoyment of assassination missions. She just couldn't help who she was and didn't even know how to change. Though it did help to have people like Cas, Lilith, and Nathaniel around. After all, they still stick around.

Once they arrived at the infirmary, Kezia was quick to make her rounds to every student in a bed. She handed them each a flower with a childish grin plaster across her face as she repeated the same line, "Hi, I'm Kizzy! This is for you!"




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It took all restraint for Roman not to yell at his sister to settle down as they made their way through the halls. He understood her behavior but that didn't mean he condoned it. After all, he was looking to make a good impression on the group with all things considered. So it was only natural for him to worry the entire trip there over how he'd be able to do such a task.

Unlike Kezia, Roman didn't falter so heavily in the friend department. It came natural for him to draw people in and keep them there. Though he was quite picky with whom he chose to keep around. He simply didn't desire to force anyone to put up with the lifestyle he had no choosing in. This was why he chose to keep his friend group rather select. There was less damage control this way. And even less chances of him getting hurt emotionally by what Ra's may do to those he cares about if he ever falls out of line again.

It seemed as if ages had passed before they arrived in the infirmary. Of course Kezia wasted no time in thrusting herself as the center of attention. She went around introducing herself to each student while Roman screamed internally. He kept himself composed while he pitched in his own proper introduction, "Hello, my name is Roman Black and this is my sister, Kezia..."

"But you can call me Kizzy!"

"I understand this may seem a bit odd considering recent events but we are the two newest students to your academy. We wanted to extend our apologizes over what had unfolded last night and would like to offer our hand in anything you may need. We hope you can welcome us in so we can assist you in returning your fellow teammates."

Yes, it was a bit formal but it was all he could come up with. After all, it was the truth. Roman wanted to help. Though he specifically wanted to make sure Lilith was back safe form wherever she'd been taken.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Nathaniel Santos Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Alec Constantine Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Cassius Thompson Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: Kezia Black

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#, as written by mjolnir
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frankie parker
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Frankie sat there silent and in shock. It seemed that Wren was one of the more calm out of the group in the cell. She wondered if the fiery redhead decided to sacrifice herself because of her healing factor or because of the new guy. He seemed less than thrilled at the sight of her being dragged away. It probably was a combination of both the man and her abilities. Frankie could only hope that Wren knew what she was doing.

She didn't know what to expect in the time they sat around waiting. Waiting for death, torture... For Wren to be brought back to them. Would she be brought back? Or would Hydra find someway to get what they want from her and kill her. Frankie never thought of Wren as the type of person to break or spill the beans. Killing her would be next to impossible, but then again Hydra seemed to have done their homework. Could they kill her?

The thought unsettled her as she shifted where she sat, tugging half-heartedly at her restraints. Frankie's gaze fell to the man Wren saved, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Kilgrave, they called him. Where had she heard that name before? Something to do with Jensen and her mother, if she remembered correctly. Something about that seemed a bit fishy in her opinion. Some guy Frankie had never met is here with them in the cell. What if he was a plant?

"Well, at least we know that one guard has quite the temper and is easily provoked," Caitria said, breaking the silence. Her tone was dry, but it seemed like she was trying to find anything that could be useful. Even if they were grasping at straws. "Guess that's a good thing to be aware of; emotionally manipulating someone can prove to be a powerful tactic." It was a good point. But when it came to people with tempers, no one could piss someone off faster than Wren.

Her attention was drawn to Lilith who, once again, tugged at her restraints. “All us metas and no one can break the restraints!”

Frankie tilted her head back looking up at the restraints around her own wrists. Her brows furrowed as she tried to twist them to look for any sort of makers mark. She then looked around at all the other's bindings, trying to find some sort of answer. It was a silvery metal, but more like nickel or steel rather than actual silver or chrome. Dots started to slowly connect as she ran through the possibilities in her mind. Frankie slowly moved her right arm, pulling it as far away from the wall as possible before the chain halted her. Then with every ounce of strength in her, she slammed the cuff back against the hook in the wall of the same metal.

Her gaze shifted up to the cuff, and there wasn't a single dent or scratch in the metal... Even when she used strength well beyond that of a human. "I think these are made out of vibranium," Frankie said out loud more toward herself than the others. She sighed, letting her body fall back against the wall in defeat. "If that is the case, then we're not getting out of these without a key." She probably should have kept that to herself, hopelessness wasn't the answer. But also beating themselves up, or wearing themselves out wouldn't help either.

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ross mcculloch
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Ross smiled, as much as he could manage, when he was able to make Jensen chuckle. "Better be at least three heads. That girl's got more fight in her big toe than any of you in this room combined." He chuckled slightly, nodding his head. It was definitely true. Then she changed tones. Ross didn't mind her sarcasm but he could understand her need to tone it down, given the circumstances. "I know she's probably fine. I'm just terrified for her right now," she said quietly.

He propped himself up on his elbows with a discomforting grunt. His lips parted, encouraging words about to escape before cue ball walked in. Of course, anything and everything the fucker said put Ross on edge. He was talking as if they failed a simulation or training exercise... Not that they were attacked, some nearly killed and the others kidnapped. It didn't take long for what little self control he had left to boil over. Ross was already on edge from his wounds, and... then Petra. Mycroft was not what he needed right now. "Are ya fuckin' mad?! We're half dead 'n half of us are gone!"

Before he could say anything else, or get up the effort to stand up and confront the bastard, he felt Jensen's hand on his arm. "That's not going to bring them back, as admirable as your fire is." Ross clenched his jaw while his body tensed, his gaze unflinching from Mycroft as he rattled on. His anger was fighting to get out and he needed a release. He groaned as his left hand slammed into his IV. It sent the stand falling over, ripping the needle from his hand and caused the bags to burst when they hit the floor.

In the blink of an eye a nurse was at his side, frantically trying to check his hand and clean up the mess. Ross just held his hand up and she froze. "Just go help someone who actually needs it." She waited a moment and even attempted to try and help again. But, when he made eye contact with her showing that he wasn't kidding, the nurse finally gave up and moved on to a different descendant.

Once she was finally gone, Ross relaxed, leaning back in the bed once again. He felt a shift in the bed as Jensen turned to look at him. "So... how's your girlfriend?" She then nodded toward Petra like he needed clarification as to what she meant.

"She's not me girl—" Ross sighed, not even finishing the statement. It wasn't worth arguing over, he didn't have the energy. "She's fine," he replied with an aggravated tone. He went to cross his arms over his chest but winced when he put pressure on his broken ribs. Ross sighed, slowly looking over at the red head across the room. After a moment, he let his gaze fall to his lap, taking a moment before he responded. "She's mad at meh."

Before Ross could go into any details, or explain what had happened to himself and Petra the night before, there was another interruption in the med wing. He propped himself up slightly, as he watched as white headed twins entered the wing. Who in the hell were they? The girl seemed overly excited and bubbly, handing out... [/i]flowers?[/i] Seriously. Did she not know what had just happened to all of them. Instead of saying something, or doing... Anything, he sat there dumbfounded as he watched her make her way from person to person until she stopped before himself and Jensen.

"Hi, I'm Kizzy! This is for you!"

Ross looked between the blonde before him and Jensen, then back to the girl. His mouth was wide open in shock. "Eh what?"

Then the other one decided to step forward and make his presence known... In a slightly more formal way. "Hello, my name is Roman Black and this is my sister, Kezia..."

"But you can call me Kizzy!"

"I understand this may seem a bit odd considering recent events but we are the two newest students to your academy. We wanted to extend our apologizes over what had unfolded last night and would like to offer our hand in anything you may need. We hope you can welcome us in so we can assist you in returning your fellow teammates."

He groaned as he sat up and looked over at Jensen. He was feeling cooped up and suffocated in the medical wing, especially with the new addition of these... odd students. He wanted to leave, and god damn any nurse that tried to stop him. "Wanna go get drunk? Aye need me a fuckin' drink." Ross gave a mischievous grin that probably looked borderline sadistic with his face half purple and blue. He was going to live, that was enough. He saw no reason to linger in the medical wing where he was being watched like a hawk. What he needed... And probably half of the people in the room needed, was a damn drink.




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tobias lehnsherr
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Tobias' first comment toward Wynne definitely wasn't the most intelligent one. But it made her laugh, he guessed that counted for something, right? He didn't intend for her to laugh. Honestly, he couldn't recall a time where he ever made anyone laugh. But he had to start somewhere he supposed. "You did, but there was a lot flying around." True. He hadn't really thought about that. Tobias thought he was able to stop most of it, and his metal shield stopped the rest, but he was by no means perfect. At least no one died, that's all that mattered... For now.

After the abrupt arrival of Nathaniel, and then the less than friendly speech by Mycroft, he left while Coulson and Alfred stayed around to help them. At least two of the three mentors seemed to have a conscious and care about what happened, regardless of what Mycroft thought. In Tobias' opinion they did the best they could, given the circumstances. After all, it was Mycroft who had everyone leave their weapons back in their rooms. He couldn't help but imagine how the tables would have been turned if Wren and Thaleia could of had their guns, or Riley his bow.

His thoughts quickly came to a halt when Wynne turned toward him and began to speak. "I just wanted to..."

Before Wynne could continue Petra joined them, taking up a chair beside his bed and kicking off her heels. "Hey. How are you feeling? I'm sorry I disappeared. I was - preoccupied elsewhere."

Tobias glanced over toward Wynne slightly, wishing she would have finished whatever she was going to say. But then looked back to Petra, giving a slight shrug of his shoulder. "I'm alive. But, where were you?" He didn't want to linger on what happened to him. Coulson already said more than he would have liked. Tobias didn't come to the school to be seen as a hero, and he didn't want to be hailed as one above the others. They all were in the same boat, they all did what they could. Saving Thaddeus Ross was within his power, so he did it. Simple.

He could connect some of the dots, considering the way Ross flipped out and left the room when he mentioned Petra. Tobias could probably guess what happened, but he'd prefer it if she told him herself. At least she seemed uninjured, and he could only assume that Ross had something to do with that. But, it seemed as though the day was going to be full of surprises and interruptions. Maybe at some point he'd be able to finish a single conversation.

A new pair of students, apparently, were joining the school. Tobias had absolutely no idea how he felt about it. He sat there stiff and silent in his bed, watching as the one went around the room and the other made some sort of formal greeting. Hell of a time to join the academy. Something inside him said that seemed fishy, but he'd rather investigate that on his own rather than question them in the open. His brows furrowed when the girl known as Kizzy stopped beside his bed, passing out flowers to the three of them and introduced herself.

Tobias nodded his head, not really knowing what else to do. After she was gone, his gaze fell to the flower in his hand. He sat up in his bed, reaching out the flower toward Wynne. He carefully slid it behind her ear, the side of his mouth tugged upward in a slight smile. Tobias had no need for a flower. What would he do with it anyway? Wynne had wings, a flower suited her and he wasn't in the mood to be totally rude toward the new girl by throwing it away. He sighed, laying back in the bed looking between the two women that were his company. "I'll be alright. You both can go help with the search effort, if you want," he commented toward the two of them. "Or check on others," he added, this time in particular to Petra.

He'd have to be blind to not notices something going on between Petra and Ross. Whatever the man did it had her seeming... off. Even though Tobias' would was potentially fatal, he didn't look nearly as bad as Ross. He'd heal, so if she needed to talk to someone else, she didn't need to stay around his bedside. It was new territory having people worried about his own well being for a change. He didn't quite know how to handle it.

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 Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: Kezia Black Character Portrait: Gwen Queen-Lance

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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




ImageFar from her usual observant self, Petra hardly noticed what she'd interrupted. She spared Wynne a glance, noting her injuries. So their mole hadn't stood by while the rest were attacked.

"Ross's mirror dimension," she turned back to Tobias, letting the tone of bitterness in her thoughts bleed through into her speech. "I only wish I could have done more... At the very least, I could have sucked the gas out of the room and given everyone a better fighting chance. But Ross saw them targeting me and - well, he just acted, I suppose."

She shifted in her chair, turning more towards the other boy. "But, what you did for Thaddeus Ross... your mom would be proud of you. I know that."

Anything else she was going to say was cut off by the arrival of a couple of people, one skipping around, the other seeming to understand a little better the decorum expected of one in an infirmary.

"Hi, I'm Kizzy!"

Petra accepted the flower thrust at her without complaint, although her expression made it clear she was distinctly unimpressed. "Thanks." In her hands, lined and roughened by her violent childhood, the flower seemed pathetic and out of place. Uncertain what to do with it, she let her hands fall into her lap again, shielding the flower from view, turning to follow the newcomers with her eyes as Tobias did... whatever he was doing with Wynne. Petra had not known him to be particularly fond of being openly kind, but maybe this was a start.

"I'll be alright. You both can go help with the search effort, if you want. Or check on others." Tobias's voice called her attention back, and Petra tore her eyes away from the two white-blonde heads to meet his gaze again.

"I'm not exactly Miss Congeniality here," she pointed out. "But I'll let you heal in peace. Rest up." So saying, she reached out to touch his shoulder gently. "You too," she directed at Wynne. "I hope you're both feeling better soon." Pushing her chair back, she rose, leaving the infirmary. No one stopped her to ask where she was headed, so instead of seeking out further company, she headed for the lift, intending to go back to her flat and collapse into bed. Maybe take a hot shower. Everything was suddenly so exhausting.


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ImageIt took some amount of effort to squash down all the emotions threatening to spill over - this wasn't like having an anxiety attack, not when it was someone else's life at stake - but Andrew's comforting presence helped. Riley focused on his light touch, warmth radiating through the thin fabric of his shirt, and after a minute felt more confident in his emotional stability.

"I mean, considering all that's happened, I can't possible say that I feel great. But for the situation, I'm doing pretty well." Riley could hear the bitter undertone in Andrew's voice. He smiled, a sardonic twist marring it. "For the situation," he repeated to himself. And what a situation it was. Training had always been about what if you're on enemy territory, what if you have to protect someone. It had never asked what if the enemy was on home territory and they had failed to protect those dear to them.

"So, uh, who else was taken?"

The names came like clockwork to Riley. Every name a reminder of how they'd failed in their duty, not just to protect the people but to protect themselves. "Wren, Caitria, Lilith, Ulrich, Constantine, and... some guy named Cassius?" He shrugged. "With the number of students joining us, I can't really say I'm surprised to hear an unfamiliar name." He glanced over his shoulder at the two currently making their rounds around the room. "I don't suppose you know who they are...?"

The pair reached them soon enough, and the girl held out flowers to both of them. "Welcome to the Academy," Riley greeted them. As soon as they moved on he placed his flower on Andrew's bedside stand. "For you. Could spruce up your place."

As he set it down he glanced over at Andrew, noting with a pang of guilt how tired the other man looked. He'd just regained consciousness, and instead of letting him rest Riley was jabbering away about his own concerns - so incredibly selfish, as usual, Barton.

He stood abruptly, eager to prevent any further mistakes of the same sort. "I'm, uh. I'm sorry, I'm going to let you rest now. You probably really need it," he blurted. Reaching over to pat Andrew's shoulder, he turned away, heading back for his own bed, where he could pick up his things and go back to his penthouse where he could freak out in private.


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ImageMaximoff's less-than-cursory glance didn't escape Wynne. Funny, how she could see so many of her own qualities in the other girl, yet neither trusted the other, instead choosing to remain wary and assume the worst until proven otherwise. She could be good, if she ever chose to work with me instead of against me, Wynne mused.

Instead of eavesdropping on their conversation, Wynne shifted her attention to the brother and sister. Kezia and Roman Black... she had little information on them. Some, but not enough. Switching her phone on, she typed a quick update email to the U.N., adding a little note at the end requesting for the twins' files. That was the best she could manage for now.

When she looked up, the girl was standing in front of Tobias's chair, beaming at her. Returning the smile (which didn't reach her eyes), Wynne took the flower, twirling it idly in her hands. "Nice to meet you," she murmured as they passed by. Pointless, but a nice gesture all the same, she supposed.

Movement towards her face. She looked up quickly, just as Tobias slid the flower behind her ear. Surprised, she raised a hand, brushing the petals with her fingertips. "Thank you." Another thing to thank him about. She did not expect to find him this willingly heroic, or so gentle - Tobias Lehnsherr was turning out to be a very unexpected character.

"I'll be alright. You both can go help with the search effort, if you want." He lay back, looking between her and Petra. Well, there was no need for Wynne to offer. If not her father, then some other higher-ranking official would have already made clear the U.N.'s stance on the Academy accessing their resources. It wasn't her place to decide. She nodded at Petra as she left, mildly surprised at her comment.

"I'll let you recuperate," she told Tobias. "But before I do... I just wanted to thank you for what you did earlier. I know that you're likely cautious of me and my motives here, and I cannot blame you for it. But I hope we can start again, as classmates instead of people caught on opposite sides of a war, which was never my view. And after today... I owe you my life. I think that's enough reason for me to doubt your reputation, even just a little. I'll see you around." Having said what she wanted to say, she got to her feet, shaking her wings out behind her briefly to unruffle them. She left the infirmary, taking the stairs up as far as they would let her, all the way to the roof.


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ImageJensen could read the tension in Ross's body the moment she mentioned Maximoff. With this proximity, how could she not? "She's not me girl -" He cut himself off with a sigh. Jensen had to restrain herself from chuckling. It was rare her readings of relationships were wrong, and this was just another little mark in her list of successes.

"She's fine." Jensen waited. Sometimes the best way to get more from people was to stay silent. Although she had to feel a little bad for him - he was a genuinely nice person, and Jensen wasn't yet entirely certain Maximoff was a girl worth hurting over. "She's mad at meh."

Jensen sighed sympathetically. "That's gotta be hard." Ross didn't respond, however, preoccupied with looking around the infirmary at something. Jensen remained lying down, staring at the ceiling, her hands folded over her stomach.

"Hi, I'm Kizzy! This is for you!"

Jensen raised her head off the pillow a little, looking at the bug-eyed blonde standing by her bed. Ross's expression said exactly what she was thinking, albeit with a little less cursing. "Eh what?"

God, there was no end to the freaks entering this place. She recognised the irony in calling some among their number freaks, but honestly. Some of these people had never grown up around normal folk. The best greeting she could manage was a half-grimace, half-smile, nodding as the boy spoke. "Right. Uh, glad to see you're having fun here." She could hardly keep the disdain out of her voice.

"Wanna go get drunk? Aye need me a fuckin' drink." Jensen let her head drop back onto the pillow, groaning. "And here I thought you were going to sit here blabbering all day, McCulloch. That's the stupidest question you've ever asked me, and I'm pretty sure you say a lot of dumb stuff." She pushed herself upright, ignoring the way her bones creaked. "Absolutely."

Before she could get out of bed, though, another blonde, this one familiar, stepped towards them. "Hey, Jensen, and you two?" Jensen's eyebrows shot up. "Are you guys okay?"

"All sorts of surprises today, but I think I'll survive," she responded. "Didn't expect to see you back here today, Gwen."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Gwen Queen-Lance

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#, as written by mjolnir
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frankie parker
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Frankie stopped trying to break her binds, slumping back against the wall. Every time she heard a distant noise part of her hoped it was Nathaniel and the other Descendants storming the Hydra base. But, she knew better. She shouldn't let her hopes get up with every bump and noise. In the end, she figured that if they get out, it'll be by their own doing. Frankie had no idea where they were, and it was unlikely that the others knew either.

"So what's the plan when they come back for another one of us? Make them angry? Distract them?" Frankie lifted her head from the wall, looking over to Ulrich as he spoke. "Why don't you lure them towards you? Humans are stupidly susceptible to pheromones. The rest of us can figure out how to get the keys. Since Constantine is fresh out of magic tricks." Her gaze drifted over toward Alec who seemed to be a mess in the current situation. "At least they want us alive. For now."

Frankie sat there thinking about what he said, furrowing her brows as she tried to think of a plan. She then blew out her lips, looking over toward Ulrich. "Even if Lilith lured them toward her... How would we be able to do anything?" She nodded her head up toward her hands, shaking them abruptly in her binds as a reminder.

She parted her lips to speak again, but something else took the words from her. In the distance, somewhere off in the Hydra base, Frankie heard a blood curdling scream. It wasn't like the screams you hear in horror films... It was so authentic it caused her spidey sense to spike, the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing on end. Her gaze fell as she held her breath while the wail echoed throughout the building. It sounded like pain... unbearable, continuous pain...

Frankie had never heard Wren scream. She was always one of the bravest people able to look death and pain in the eye and laugh. But that scream made a pit grow in her stomach. It didn't look good for them.

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ross mcculloch
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"And here I thought you were going to sit here blabbering all day, McCulloch. That's the stupidest question you've ever asked me, and I'm pretty sure you say a lot of dumb stuff," Jensen said as she sat up. "Absolutely."

Ross scoffed, sitting up much slower than her as the soreness was really starting to sink in. "Aye, no need to be an arse about it." He hung his legs over the edge of the hospital bed, gripping the sheets in his hands. He took a deep breath in through his nose and out the mouth. Sometimes he really hated the accelerated healing and shit the others had, while he was forced to feel everything in the most excruciating and slow way... ever.

Before he got up, a familiar face he wasn't expecting appeared before himself and Jensen. "With wounds like them, Rossy, you might not want to thin your old blood."

Ross snorted while rolling his eyes. "Just you watch meh."

"Hey, Jensen, and you two? Are you guys okay?"

"All sorts of surprises today, but I think I'll survive. Didn't expect to see you back here today, Gwen," Jensen said, replying to Gwen's question.

"We're better den others..." Ross' voice trailed off as he looked around the medical wing. Some of the others in there had worse wounds than himself, like Tobias. But it looked like Ross got the ugliest award hands down since half of the damage he took was to his mug. But, he wasn't talking about those in the room... But, the unknown fate of those that were kidnapped and taken by Hydra.

Ross couldn't handle that depressing room anymore. He pushed off the bed, dropping down to his feet. When he first stood up, he wobbled slightly, reaching out and grabbing Jensen for support. He caught sight of a nurse tempted to walk over toward him. But, Ross help up his index finger in a silent threat that she better not bother him. He sighed. "Let's get da fuck outta 'ere. I wanna drink 'til I'm pretteh again."

Once he regained his balance, Ross made his way toward the exit. But, of course, before he was in the clear one last nurse had to try and stop him. He groaned, rolling his eyes. "Mr. McCulloch, you really need to stay on bed rest and refrain from intoxication. Your body cannot handle that strain like—" When they realized they struck a nerve by comparing him to some of the others in the academy, the nurse quickly drew silent.

"Aye'll take meh chances," he groaned pushing past her and headed out of the medical wing. When Ross turned the corner and saw Petra standing there waiting for the elevator he froze. He sighed as his gaze fell to the ground. Not wanting to deal with an awkward lift ride, he turned and threw open the door to the stairs. It was twenty seven floors to his room... Fuck. He took a deep breath looking up the numerous flights of stairs. With a final sigh, he grasped the railing and slowly started his ascension.




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tobias lehnsherr
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"Ross's mirror dimension," Petra answered his question with a very evident bitterness. Tobias' gaze shifted over toward the Scot on the other side of the medical wing as she continued talking. "I only wish I could have done more... At the very least, I could have sucked the gas out of the room and given everyone a better fighting chance. But Ross saw them targeting me and - well, he just acted, I suppose."

Tobias parted his lips to speak but she quickly changed the topic before he could. "But, what you did for Thaddeus Ross... your mom would be proud of you. I know that."

He shifted where he sat slightly. Tobias was used to getting noticed for... anything he did. Even if it was Petra, but worse when it was Coulson. He gave a slight smile to Petra at her comment about his but it quickly faded. God, he hoped she was ok. He completely forgot about her with everything that was going on. He didn't kill Thaddeus, that he knew. Magneto wasn't going to be happy... And if he knew any better, his father was probably hunting Raven down as he sat there in bed. Tobias wished he could get out of bed, find her first and take her into hiding. But, he was useless right now.

When Tobias gave his flower from the overly excited newcomer to Wynne, she raised a hand to brush the petals with her fingertips. "Thank you," She said softly. He nodded his head with a very slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The new twins soon disappeared amongst the other descendants leaving him alone with the two women again. "I'm not exactly Miss Congeniality here," Petra replied to his comment. "But I'll let you heal in peace. Rest up." When she reached out and touched his shoulder, Tobias smiled up at her and nodded his head. "You too. I hope you're both feeling better soon." His gaze drifted from Petra over to Wynne as she addressed the blonde.

"I'll let you recuperate," Wynne spoke up once Petra left. Tobias looked toward her. He liked having the company. He wasn't expecting anyone to be at his bedside. It was a nice change. But, he'd hate to be rude and pass out from the heavy drugs mid conversation or something like that. As much as he didn't want to admit it, rest was most definitely in order. "But before I do... I just wanted to thank you for what you did earlier. I know that you're likely cautious of me and my motives here, and I cannot blame you for it. But I hope we can start again, as classmates instead of people caught on opposite sides of a war, which was never my view. And after today... I owe you my life. I think that's enough reason for me to doubt your reputation, even just a little. I'll see you around."

"I don't blame you... For judging me because of my father," Tobias replied. He wasn't spiteful or mean in his words, but understanding. She had no reason to think he was any different than Magneto. But, he still said it... To ease her conscience. "And you're welcome," he said after her as she started to head out of the infirmary. "You don't owe me anything." Tobias raised his fingers slightly from his abdomen in a weak wave good bye before she left.




S M A L L x T I M E x J U M P




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wren wilson
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frankie parker
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The Hydra soldiers pealed Wren's weak and battered body from the bed they had her strapped down on. When she stand her knees gave way and she collapsed under her weight. What has they drugged me with? She wasn't used to drugs having an effect on her. It was like someones first time drunk or on acid. She found herself blinking to try and clear her vision. One of the guards groaned in frustration as he leaned down toward her. In a swift movement, he hoisted her over his shoulder, holding her legs to his chest while her head and arms dangled over his back.

She wanted to fight back, kick him in the balls, smash her elbow into his temple and royally devastate everyone in that room but her body didn't listen to what her mind willed. Instead, Wren weakly kicked her legs and arms. God, did it take a lot of her energy just doing that. Whatever was in the drug they gave her was strong and effective. But, even with that she could still feel its effects wearing off as he carried her back to the cell.

Frankie somehow managed to doze off, even with her hands held in the cuffs at an awkward position. Her head was draped over to the right leaning against her shoulder. But, approaching steps echoed throughout the corridor she was startled awake, blinking the sleeping from her eyes. She raised her head, looking toward the entrance of the cell as the steps grew closer. Was one of them next? Wren had stopped screaming hours ago, was she dead and now they come for another? She held her breath as she waited for them to come into view. And when he did he carried something like a sack over his shoulder.

It was Wren.

Frankie let out a gasp in surprise as the practically lifeless Wren was carried into the cell. The man dropped her on the ground without much care and slapped her hands back into her binds. But instead of taking another one of them, the guards said nothing. They made sure Wren was secured then left them in the cell, disappearing back from where they came.

Wren slumped against the wall. The only thing holding her upright was the cuffs that held her hands against the wall. If it wasn't for those she would have tipped over onto the ground. She could feel the cloudiness slowly lift from her vision while it seemed at the same pace her body began to react and listen to her once again. Everything was still slow but it was coming back to her. After a long moment, she raised her head as best she could, letting it rest back against the wall. She looked around at everyone in the cell and gave the best smile she could manage at the time. "Oh good, you guys are ok," her voice croaked.

Frankie sat there in a shocked silence for awhile, just taking in Wren's appearance. The girl looked like death. Like she had been pushed to the brink of death multiple times but not allowed to die. Sure, Wren would heal but she had never seen Wren in this bad of shape. Dried blood cover a lot of her skin, her gown from the dance was all but destroyed, just enough there to cover what should be covered. The sleeves were gone, a large whole was tore where her abdomen was and the skirt was tattered, torn and ripped. Wren had a fat lip. There was a dried trail of blood that ran from her nose over her lips. Her right eye was as purple as a grape and nearly swollen shut. But somehow with all that she managed to smile... With a few missing teeth.

"Jesus, Wren. What happened to you?"

"... You don't want to know." Wren glanced over at her left wrist, where she vaguely remembers them cutting off her hand at some point during the super fun torture session. Whatever they gave her slowed her healing. Her hand wasn't quite to regular size just yet. She knew her strength wasn't fully back yet. She was slow and lethargic, but maybe... Maybe she could pull her hand through the cuff. Or, maybe with it still healing it'd be easy enough to break the bones and slip her hand through.

Wren took a deep breath then tried to adjust her body to the most comfortable position possible. She then brought her thumb and pinky as close together as possible. She started wiggling, squirming and pulling her hand downward. After a couple minutes of trying, it didn't seem it was going to work. So, instead she bent her finger backwards placing the tip on the wall. Wren took a deep breath preparing herself before shoving her hand backwards, snapping the bones in the first finger. She then moved on to do the same to the second.

"Wren! Stop! What are you doing?" Frankie had no idea what the woman was thinking, but she's been through enough already that day. Why was she breaking her hand?!

"Shut up, blondie!" Wren tried to snap at Frankie but she didn't have enough strength to sound very assertive, but sounded more irritated if anything. "I'm trying to figure out a way out of here... Unless you have any bright ideas?"

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ross mcculloch
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It took sometime, but Ross finally found a bar. Honestly, he had no idea where in the tower he was. After about three flights of stairs, he gave up with that option and decided to search whatever floor he was on. And surprise surprise, there was a bar there. There was so much in that damn tower that it was easy to forget how much he hadn't seen. Ross had never taken the time to figure out where everything was, but apparently he should have. All he knew was where the penthouses were, training rooms, the garage, the entrance and the cafeteria. He never really found the need to discover what else was here until now.

But, whatever motivation he had to find out what lied within the walls of the academy was quickly washed away by the burn of vodka down his throat. Ross didn't talk much while he drank. He didn't have much to say that would be remotely similar to his usual self, and he was sure that Jensen or Gwen wasn't in the mood to listen to him bitch and groan about Petra. They might have been talking at some point, maybe to him... But he had no clue. Ross was never a lightweight but the combination of exhaustion, alcohol and some serious drugs, he was feeling the liquor after two shots.

He made the decision then, that it was probably in his best interest to go rest as the nagging nurses wished. But, he was too stubborn to do it in the infirmary. Ross stumbled his way out of the bar and managed to find the elevator after several wrong turns, twice of witch took him back to the bar. Once on the lift, he sighed, leaning back against the wall. Then slowly, very slowly, he started to slide down the wall until his was sitting on the ground in the corner of the elevator. He made an attempt to reach his hand up to press a button, but was no where close to reaching it. "Shite."

Ross tired to move to his feet, and got half up before gravity decided that wasn't in the cards, causing him to stumble back down to the ground. He glared up at the elevator buttons and toward the closed doors, and blew air out between his lips. "Fuck it."




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tobias lehnsherr
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After sleeping some more and being more compliant that others in the infirmary, Tobias was able to convince the nurses to let him out of bed. Of course, with a wound like his, strenuous active wasn't the best action, so he still needed to be in a wheelchair. But he wasn't in any rush to do crazy physical exertion so he was happy thankful for the wheelchair. He slowly and carefully wheeled him self out of the infirmary and down the hallway. When he reached the elevator, he leaned forward pressing the button. Shortly after, the doors open and revealed something he wasn't expecting.

Ross McCulloch laying slouched in the corner on the ground. The Scot's expression perked up slightly as he waved his hand in the air weakly. "Aye, mate!"

Tobias didn't move. He just sat there, staring at Ross with furrow brows until the elevator doors went to close. He quickly stuck out his hand to stop them, then rolled into the elevator being sure not to hit Ross' foot. "Are you... Ok?" he finally asked, trying to decide if he was wounded or intoxicated.

"I... 'm great," Ross said with a smile, waving his index finger toward Tobias. "How 'er you? How's yer sister—niece?" His voice trailed off taking a sad and serious tone.

Tobias gave a sympathetic smile, gazing down at his lap. Between everything that happened, he wasn't surprised that Ross wanted to drown it all away temporarily. Petra was put off by what the Scot did to save her life, but he did save her life. Tobias parted his lips preparing to say something but Ross cut him off by calling out in slurred words. "What floor 'er ya goin' ta?" Ross stretched his hand up toward the buttons but still was unable to reach them.

"I got it," Tobias chuckled slightly and pressed the button for the roof. As the elevator ascended, he took the moment to have a one on one with Ross... Even if he might not remember it once he sobers up. "Hey, Ross?"

"Aye?" Ross rolled his head against the wall, turning his gaze to Tobias with a cheeky grin.

"I want to thank you for what you did for Petra. She might seem mad now, but she's thankful too. If it weren't for you, she'd be taken same as the others. I am thankful, she's very important to me... And I know you care about her too. I owe you."

Ross' expression seemed to sink while the alcohol only seemed to make its way to his more somber emotions. "Aye would do et 'thousand times oer... If she likes et or not."

The elevator came to a stop, opening to the roof. Tobias rolled out and turned to face Ross. "I know you would. That means a lot."

The doors started to close and Ross raised his hand, saluting to Tobias before the doors separated them. He rolled himself across the roof, finding a table with an umbrella. He parked his wheelchair under the shade and pulled out his cellphone. No messages from his mother, but that's not why he got it out. His thumb scrolled through the contacts until he found Petra's name.

Compose Message to : Petra Maximoff

"There's a drunk Scot in an elevator. Maybe you were too hard on him? He just wanted you safe.

...

Just a thought."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Gwen Queen-Lance

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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 enjoyed some thirty minutes of solitude - proper, comfortable solitude, none of that sitting on a cold floor in a thin dress shit - letting the hot water run until the bathroom was filled with steam. With a warm mug of tea on her bedside stand and an old book in her arms, still unfinished from before the training exercise that now seemed a year ago, she settled on her bed, dressed in a warm sweater and jeans. She had no plans to emerge from her apartment before the next day dawned.

Or so she thought. After seven pages, her phone buzzed.

From: Tobias

There's a drunk Scot in an elevator. Maybe you were too hard on him? He just wanted you safe.

...

Just a thought.


Petra exhaled a long breath through her nose, lips pursed. She tried not to shake her head. As there wasn't really anyone around to judge her for physically expressing her frustration, she didn't mind so much that the attempt to suppress herself failed. Ross was a grown man, he could deal with himself. She typed a quick message back, then set her phone to silent and tossed it back on the stand.

To: Tobias

I'm not his chaperone.


But she couldn't get the image out of her head. Not for lack of trying, but the book couldn't hold her attention - not even with an explanation of old, fairly obscure chaos magic theory. Eventually she set the book aside with a sigh, pushing herself off the bed. Her tea would probably go cold. She might not finish the book until she was eighty. It hadn't even been three hours, and she was already breaking her vow of not leaving her apartment.

Gods damn Ross.


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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




ImageAs per Riley's luck, upon returning to his bed, he suffered another attack of dizziness that had him sinking to his knees, gasping for breath, almost knocking his IV stand over as his hands scrabbled for purchase on the nearest surface. Having been helped up and back into bed by a couple of nurses, he forgot about heading back to his apartment, instead drifting in and out of wakefulness for a period of time. Every time he closed his eyes he had a fresh nightmare about his dad and friends, all of which he promptly forgot upon waking.

He awoke proper some time later, staring blankly at the ceiling of the infirmary. The drip had been finished and removed sometime while he was asleep, so he presumed he was free to go. With a groan, he pushed himself upright and looked around. Already some of the students had taken their leave, judging by the relative quiet of the infirmary and the empty, as-yet-unmade beds. Scrubbing a hand over his face, Riley gathered his things from the bedside stand, making sure his watch was tucked carefully away, and left.

His head was heavy. If a concussion was all it took to fix anxiety-induced insomnia, Riley would have run headfirst into a wall years ago.

The elevator doors slid open, and a pair of feet came into view. Riley glanced up, startled, to see Ross sitting in the elevator, his eyes closed.

"Oh boy." Riley hurried forward, bending down by his friend. "As if getting your entire face rearranged wasn't enough, Ross? What the hell?" He slipped an arm under his friend's shoulders, trying to heave Ross's dead weight upright and press the button for Ross's floor at the same time.. "Let's take you back, yeah?"

The elevator doors slid open, far earlier than Riley had expected. Petra stood there, her arms crossed, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else. "Give him here."

"What?"

Instead of repeating herself, she stepped into the elevator with them, pressing the button for Riley's floor, then adding her support to Ross's other side. "He's like this because of me. I'll take care of him. You should go back and rest."

Ross is my friend, Riley wanted to say, but he caught the dangerous glint in her eyes. Trust me, I'd rather be doing anything else right now, it said, and so he backed off. "Alright. Thanks."

They reached his floor, and he tried, as gently as possible, to slip out from under Ross's weight. "Feel better soon."


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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




ImageShe was flying. The sun was warm on her skin, her stitches were screaming, and she was soaring.

Wynne couldn't help herself. She'd just popped into her assigned apartment briefly - bare, boring, and a really weird shade of beige - dumped her stuff, and then gone up to the roof. Warren Worthington could make all the threats he wanted, but the world knew she was a mutant, and here no one would try to rein her in like fucking Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.

She pretty much looked like him, though. On the ground - or even the roof - the temperature was mild, but up in the air, doing acrobatics like she'd never tried before, the speed and the wind chill brought a pretty flush to her cheeks. Her braid had pulled loose, and pretty much half her hair was now blowing by her face, but she didn't care. Despite her lack of experience, flying was incredibly freeing, and came to her easily.

After amusing herself by tailing a flock of birds (and scaring the hell out of them), Wynne tried a few midair loops, then turned and dove into a barrel roll, ending it with a headlong spiral down towards the roof of the Academy. Just before she slammed headfirst into the concrete, she pulled up, slowing abruptly, and did a final midair backflip, landing lightly on her bare feet. Blood beaded below her stitches and slid thickly through the feathers, not enough to cause alarm. Still, she shuddered. It felt weird - both the pulled stitches and her wings stretched out.

Movement caught her eye, and she whipped around, her wings folding up behind her on instinct. She hadn't expected anyone else to come up here, which was the main reason she'd let herself loose.

Tobias Lehnsherr. Even when she wasn't looking for him, he turned up anyway. Wynne tugged the rubber band out of her hair, trying to smooth her hair back into something vaguely presentable. Dear Lord, that she might be acting like a wild teenager again, and this time in front of people much more important than a handful of university students. It was embarrassing.


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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 had to hurry to catch Ross. No way he was going to be steady on his feet, not after the beating he'd taken and the meds they'd probably pumped into him.

She was proved right when he wobbled and grabbed at her, letting him lean on her shoulder until he found his legs. "Whoa there, tiger. Take it easy."

"Let's get da fuck outta 'ere. I wanna drink 'til I'm pretteh again."

She laughed, despite herself. "You said it. Let's go." She crooked a finger at Gwen, a silent invitation. They weren't the closest, but she'd take whatever drinking buddies came her way.

The stairs weren't a problem for Jensen. She didn't say anything when they rounded the corner and familiar red tresses came into view, only continued supporting Ross up until they stumbled across the bar. In this mood, she wasn't eager to argue with anyone, least of all the one person who'd been kind enough to offer her a listening ear in the usual gang's absence.

She made good work on the bar almost immediately. At her request, the bartender kept the alcohol coming, seeing her through multiple whiskey shots until her vision was pleasantly blurry. Not enough to fuzz her thinking over, but enough that her pain had dulled considerably. She barely even noticed when Ross left, deciding at the last moment to let him leave. He needed the bed rest more than she did, although if he made it back to his apartment in one piece she'd be surprised. Didn't go after him, though, just remained where she was, smiling to herself.

After a little while she realised that Gwen had posed a question. Running back through her memory, she recalled it and finally turned to the other girl. "I dunno, like some giant clusterfuck. You seen the hole in the side of the building?" After downing another shot she sighed, trying to find the words.

"So there's this... gala, right, there's United Nations and bloody Thaddeus Ross, some winged gal joining us from the U.N. Temporarily. Whatever. If she's a spy, she's doing a shit job of it because she just went up on stage and announced it to the entire ballroom that she was joining as a student. Then these goons fuckin' blast a hole into the ballroom. Boom." She pushed air out from pursed lips, raising her hands to mimic an explosion. Probably almost hit Gwen in the face, but who cared. She downed another shot and continued.

"And they have these gas... things. They're grabbing students. Shot a claw right through Wren's chest like Moby Dick." Her voice faltered, grew sombre even through the alcohol. "Couldn't stop them, you know. They were prepared for us. I watched them pull Wren into a waiting helicopter. Then some bastard whacked me in the face - pow - and jabbed me with a needle. Next thing I know, I wake up feeling like shit." She laughed, a wet, choking sound, and rested her forehead on her hand, closing her eyes. "But when don't I feel like shit? I'm used to it. I'm worried about Wren. Pretty, tough, dangerous Wren... at least they can't kill her. Well, they could. But she'll be back. Hasta la vista, baby." She started cackling again, hardly able to control herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was very, very drunk. But it didn't really matter, not just then.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Tobias Lehnsherr Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington

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#, as written by mjolnir
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Frankie quickly shut her mouth when Wren snapped toward her. Part of her wanted to argue, but she simply sighed, leaning back against the concrete wall. The sound of Wren breaking the bones in her hand one by one turned her stomach. If there was something in there Frankie might have gotten sick but she couldn’t even recall the last time she ate or drank something.

“She’ll recover,” Lilith spoke up in regards to Wren’s actions. She didn’t seem like she believed the words coming out of her own mouth, but Frankie accepted them in silence. What else could they do? But part of her wished there was a different way… Because one thing Frankie knew was that if they were going to break out of here they’d need Wren at 110% and she was barely at 20%.

"Your dad's Kilgrave, right?” Caitria asked the new man in the group with the mouth guard. "Which means you can control minds, if I'm not mistaken. That would certainly be helpful. And unless someone has the ability to break through vibranium, or if they have a secret stash of adamantium they carry with them at all times, then breaking our hands like Wren is doing in attempt to relieve ourselves of these restraints is, unfortunately, the best option we have.”

"Ladies first," Ulrich added after Caitria was done. Frankie didn't like the sound of that. If her own hands were broken she'd be useless. Wren didn't look like she could carry the fighting herself, and they were no match without their hands. If they had a Wren at full capacity then Frankie would gladly stand back while the Wilson prowess took over. But there was no time for such luxuries.

”Oh, shut up,” Wren groaned as she yanked her broken and mangled hand from the restraint on the wall. She was surprised how much that little act took out of her. Wren let her broken hand rest in her lap. She could feel the effects of whatever drug they gave her wearing off slowly. Her body was healing, but not fast enough.

”If you all break your hands… We’re fucked. Just rest… while you can.” Wren didn’t have to say her meaning… Hopefully. Regardless, she wasn't going to. Whatever energy she had left, she was saving. She let her eyes close as she steadied her breathing, focusing most of her attention toward her hand. Of course, her abilities have always been subconscious but sometimes if she focused enough Wren could make it work a little faster. Honestly, she had no idea if it was working or not, but she still tried.

Frankie felt herself growing antsy. She sat there silent yet staring at Wren waiting for whatever the woman was going to do next. The red head just sat there and for all she knew she could have been asleep. Finally, Frankie spoke up unable to bear the silence, "...Now what?"

Wren sighed softly as she opened her eyes looking down at her hand in her lap. After a moment she slowly flexed her fingers continually until it no longer hurt or made unnatural noises. She then looked up toward Frankie, then parted her lips. "Hey! Asshole!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, jingling the shackles of her restraints against the wall as loud as she could manage. "MOTHER FUCKERS!! I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU! HEY!" Her voice already started to grow horse as she took a deep breath between words. "Fucking pussies! HEY!"

Frankie's eyes widened like a deer in headlights when Wren began to scream and shout. Had she gone crazy!? What was she doing. "Wren!? Shut up!"

Wren ignored her and continued to shout profanities until a guard showed up at the door to their cell. "Would you shut up? Or was 6 hours not enough?"

"Blow it out your ass!" Wren yelled at the guard before she spat at him.

The guard didn't need anymore provocation. He pulled out his keys, unlocking the door and walked over toward her. Once he was close enough, his eyes widened when he noticed Wren's left hand holding the cuff but not in it. She smirked up toward him before raising her leg and slamming her foot into his knee full force. The joint snapped backward and the man fell to the ground. Wren tried to reach him with her free hand but he was too far. She shifted her body, hooking her foot under his jaw and jerked him closer. Her long legs quickly wrapped around his neck before he could call out. Her thighs constricted around his neck while her free hand grabbed his flailing arm, snapping it backwards so he couldn't fight.

Frankie watched in admiration and horror as Wren not only attracted a guard into the cell but knocked him down to her level. She made it look effortless, like she hadn't been tortured for hours. But the look on the red head's face was horrifying. It wasn't the look of desperation to survive, or break out, but revenge. She was angry and wanted blood. Frankie knew Wren, along with many of her other companions, had taken lives, but seeing it was completely different. "Wren... Stop! You're killing him!" She hissed just above a whisper.

Wren tightened her legs. "Exactly," she replied glaring up from the guard at the blonde. Her gaze was enough of a silent threat that the spider girl finally stopped trying to argue. There was no saving lives at this point. She wanted revenge and blood... And if Ms. Perfect alerted the guards then Wren would go through her as well if it meant getting out.

When the guard stopped fighting and his face turned blue, Wren let his head slip from her thighs. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him closer so that she could reach his keys. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the physical exertion taking its toll but she pushed it back, refusing to succumb to the fatigue. It took a couple tries to unlock her other cuff, but once she did she couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. Before Wren moved onto the others, she grabbed the strangled guard's head and gave it a quick jerk, snapping his neck. At this point, she'd rather be cautious.

It took a moment for Wren to get the energy to stand up and move over to Lilith. She unlocked her binds one at a time, then handed the blonde the keys. "Can you finish?" she asked as she allowed herself to slide back down to the ground, leaning against the wall.

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ross mcculloch
mirror masterx|xoutfitx|x#FF8D34

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Ross might have fallen asleep, or was he resting his eyes? It didn't matter. He heard the elevator doors open. He let his head roll against the wall as he slowly opened his eyes finding Riley standing before him. "Oh boy." Riley hurried to his side, bending down to meet him. "As if getting your entire face rearranged wasn't enough, Ross? What the hell?"

He chuckled, waving his friend off. "Did y'know alcohol and morphine don' mix?" Ross smiled at Riley as slid his arm under him pulling him up to his feet. Ross let himself lean against his friend, smiling up at him. "You, sir... Are a wonnerful mate. D'you know that?"

"Let's take you back, yeah?"

Ross pouted slightly, poking Riley's cheek. "Ooookay. Parteh pooper."

The doors opened again. Ross kicked out his leg preparing to start walking but realized Riley didn't move. He looked up finding none other than his Red standing before him. God did she look beautiful, even with her arms crossed over her chest. Why ya so angry, beautiful? He smiled weakly between the beauty and his friend.

"Give him here."

"What?"

Ross looked between the two lethargically. Petra entered the elevator, pressing a button, then took Ross' other side for support. He was content as a cucumber standing between the two of them. His smile stretched ear to ear so much that it squinted his eyes like a doped up puppy.

"He's like this because of me. I'll take care of him. You should go back and rest."

"Alright. Thanks," Riley said as he backed away. "Feel better soon."

Ross' brows furrowed, confused as to why Riley was leaving him. He reached out after him as he left. "Aye luv ya mate... Don' ferget it!" he called after him as the doors started to close and he was left with his arm draped over Petra's shoulders. After a moment, he looked over at her. His hand that rested on her shoulder raised as his fingers started to twirl a lock of her hair. "Yer so beautiful... Even when yer angry... Soooo angry." He smiled the best he could toward her as he let his hand fall from her shoulder, moving to support himself against the side of the elevator. He raised his hand to rub his nose and winced the second he did, forgetting it was broken. "Shite."




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tobias lehnsherr
magnetox|xoutfitx|x#57428C

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Tobia's phone buzzed shortly after he sent the text. He illuminated the screen to read over the message.

Message from : Petra Maximoff

"I'm not his chaperone."

He sighed, locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. It wasn't his place to tell her what she should or shouldn't do. He figured eventually she would understand why Ross did what he did. Or hopefully she would. Tobias would have done the same thing if he had the power. He set his phone down on the table and just as he did so, something caught his eye up in the sky above the tower.

Tobias rested his hands in his lap as he willed the metal in the wheelchairs wheels to roll him out from under the umbrella. He looked up into the sky, surprised to see none other than Wynne flying above. Regardless of her wounds or anything else she seemed light as air and free, he could see the blood stained her white feathers. He found himself smiling slightly at the sight, not of the blood but of her freedom. He was able to make himself levitate on the occasion and knew the weightless sensation of it.

Then everything in her flipped like a switch when she saw him. She quickly landed on the rooftop, and pulled the tie of her hair. He couldn't help but chuckle slightly as she was evidently embarrassed by him seeing her.

"... I can leave. Didn't mean to interrupt." He motioned his thumb over his shoulder as he commented about leaving. Tobias' gaze fell to her wing where she was bleeding, her stitches having being ripped out. "You should get that cleaned up before you're infected. I can do it if you don't want to go back to the hovering nurses." He gave a sympathetic smile.

After a moment, he tapped his fingers on the armrest of the chair. Tobias nodded his head toward her and willed the chair to turn and start back toward the elevator. He always loved the roof, but it looked like someone else needed it more than him.