xxwren wilson
deadpoolx|xoutfitx|x#BB141Exfrankie parker
spidermanx|xoutfitx|x#FF0057
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Wren took what moments she could to rest and reserve her energy for what was to come. She nodded her head and gave a brief smile to Lilith who took over unlocking everyone else. As she sat there her gaze slowly scanned all the others until it stopped on Frankie. The blonde stared back at her with a horrified and disgusted look. Wren shook her head with a slight roll of her eyes, deciding to look in a different direction. If Ms. Golden-girl wanted to judge her for killing the Hydra guard then so be it. She was doing what needed to be done, regardless of what weaker stomachs in the group thought. She was used to being disliked by half of the people at the academy, what difference would this make?
While everyone was being freed, Wren forced herself to bend and twist her left hand. The sound of the joints and bones slowly healing crunched and snapped during the movement. With each pop her eyes twitched slightly at the pain. She no doubt was healing, but it was slow... Much slower than she was used to and it seemed that everything hurt more. She did her best to keep breathing steady, keeping her injured hand close to her chest as she leaned forward. With her right hand she took the dead guard's pistol off his body, along with the two extra clips he hand. But it was enough... For now.
Frankie quickly found herself grow ansty and impatient as Lilith moved around the cell helping everyone out of their bindings. She wanted out of this place as much as the rest of them, but more than that she wanted away from the blood thirst... be it the Hydra soldiers or Wren. Unfortunately, something inside her told her she wasn't going to get through this without seeing a lot more death. Her attention was quickly brought to the present when Lilith unlocked her cuffs. Frankie sighed, rubbing her wrists and then lethargically moved to her feet.
âLet's go.â
Wren's attention was drawn toward Ulrich as he held out something toward her, his jacket. Her brows furrowed slightly at the offering as her hand hesitantly took the offered clothing. "Thanks," she said quietly. She had almost completely forgotten about the state of her gown, nor did she care much about her modesty in a situation like this. But, she surprisingly appreciated the gesture... Especially when it came from someone she didn't expect.
She draped the jacket over her left arm and accepted his extended hand with her right. With Ulrich's help, Wren got back on her feet but she didn't release his hand just yet. Her eyes closed as she waited for the head rush to fade away. With her balance regained, she slipped on the jacket and buttoned it up. It was definitely big on her, but it still gave her a free range of motion which was most important. Wren stuff the extra clips in the left pocket and the gun in the right. Wren let herself slump against the wall as the others began to discuss plans. As they spoke, she leaned down and ripped free most of the train of her dress. She tore a strip from it and used it as a makeshift tourniquet for her broken hand while it healed at a snail's pace.
"So, what's our plan? If we even have one right now..." Caitria asked.
"You go scout the building, tell us the best escape route, how much fire power we should expect, and we skip into the sunset." That was a quick answer. But the sound of splitting up didn't sit well with Frankie. None of them were at their best... And who knew how many other Hydra soldiers were in the building. "At least that'd be a decent plan if anybody were expendable. But we probably shouldn't risk splitting up," Ulrich admitted. "My plan honestly is to avoid getting caught and killed."
"Are you ready?" Ulrich asked, seeming to aim that question more at Frankie than anyone else. She nodded her head in acknowledgement but didn't say anything. Was she ready? As much as she would ever be she supposed. Her gaze moved to Wren as she pushed off the wall with her shoulder and moved slowly toward the cell entrance. As she moved, her right hand dug out the pistol. She popped out the clip to check that it was full, before snapping it back into the gun and cocking it.
"Is that necessary?" Frankie asked Wren, her gazed locked on the gun.
"Do you have a better idea?" Wren snapped. When Frankie didn't respond, she continued. "They have the power to put us all right back here or kill us. If we get out, they'd hunt us. And then they'd go after the academy... again. But we wouldn't be there to help." She paused for a moment, allowing a moment for what she is saying to sink in. "I didn't break my hand and willingly get tortured to get put back in here and let my friends die. So... I'm going to kill every single one of these mother fuckers. And, you can either help or get the fuck out of my way."
Frankie felt her blood boil at every word Wren said, partly because she didn't agree with the excessive spilling of blood. But even worse was part of her deep down kind of agreed. In the true grim reality, could they get out without spilling blood? Would that just put their friends' and families' lives on the line? Either way they didn't have time to argue. So, Frankie opted for the second option. She clenched her jaw as she took a step back from the door, diverting her gaze.
Wren was never the type to come off polite and gentle, but even if she was, this was not the time for that. At the current moment she didn't care what they thought. She looked over toward Lilith and motioned to the door trying. "Do you mind? Please." As she worked on unlocking the door, Wren glanced over her shoulder toward Ulrich. "You have X-ray vision, right? Do you think you could find us the fastest and most direct route out of here?"
Once the door was open, Wren poked her head out to check both directions. "We need to make a detour." Before anyone could start getting huffy or their panties in a bunch, she held up her hand to silence them. "There are others that are trapped here too. We could use the help and we can't leave them behind."
Whether or not the others followed her was irrelevant. Wren was going to go free them too. She remembered passing them when she was dragged away and they weren't far. She tried to be as stealthy as possible, tip toe-ing down the corridor. Once she reached a turn she stopped, leaning her head forward enough to see around the wall. There were two guards, but they were lined up so that, in the right angle, she get them both with one shot. But the minute a gun was fired they wouldn't have long.
Wren looked back and motioned for Lilith to come toward her. "I need your help," she whispered. "There are two cells. I can get one if you can get the other... But we have to be fast."
"Hey on the off chance you are not Hydra how about helping me out of here, I can help you all get out?!" A voice called from one of the cells.
Wren groaned under her breath, rounding the corner far sooner than she was planning. "You couldn't have stayed quiet for like one more minute," she bitched toward the voice of one of the prisoners. While doing so she also gained the attention of the guards. In a single swift movement she raised the pistol and pulled the trigger. The bullet raced through the air slamming one guard in the head then the next. The hall went silent for a moment before they both collapsed on the ground. She hurried up and grabbed keys from one of the guards. She ran past the first cell which held two people, a man and woman and move to the second room which had another male. Wren slid the gun in the pocket of the jacket Ulrich gave her and proceeded to unlock the door.
Once the door was open, she hurried inside over to the blonde man. When Wren reached him, she grew dizzy again, stumbling against the wall to keep from falling down. "Fuck," she cursed. She took a deep breath then pushed past it. Wren unlocked his cuffs as quickly as she could manage, then shoved the keys in a pocket. "Alright, gabby. We gotta go." She hooked her left hand around him, ignoring the pain from the broken bones and helped him to his feet. In that moment, she was thankful that she had super human strength because this dude was a giant and was some how even heavier than he looked. She had no idea how much energy he hand, so she kept her left arm around his torso to try and give him support. She helped him put his right arm across her shoulders as they made their way out of the cell and back down the hall toward the others.
The second she rounded the corner the main lights went out. Red flashing illuminated the hallways while an alarm blared, echoing off the walls. When Wren caught Ulrich's gaze she shouted down toward him. "Go!" She adjusted her hold on the large blonde male hoping that she could hold up until they got out and that Ulrich could find them a way out.
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xxross mcculloch
mirror masterx|xoutfitx|x#FF8D34
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"...Thanks. I think," Petra said in response to Ross' compliment. Yes it was a drunken compliment, but he meant it at least. She even allowed him to play with her hair for a moment before batting away his hand. Then as he reached to touch his very swollen nose, she reacted quickly trying to stop him. "Hey. Don't do that. Come on." Petra quickly snatched up his hand, keeping him from touching his face. He was too tired and way too drunk to try and fight her. He simply sighed, blowing air out between his lips. Maybe if he were more sober he would have noticed how her hold on his hand lingered, but it went by unnoticed as his attention was focused on remaining standing.
"Why are you always hurting yourself? First getting your face beat in, then drinking yourself stupid when you're in this state? Do you not think before you act? What did you say - even if it meant your life for mine? Do you really think you're worth that little?" Petra scolded him, shaking his hand as she spoke at him out of frustration. Ross' brows furrowed as he focused on her, trying his best to focus on each word through his inebriation.
"'m not always trying to hurt me self," Ross corrected through slurred words. "'n I do think. Thank ya very much. It was my thinkin' that kept you..." He motioned his free hand up and down at her. "You." His brows furrowed a bit as he took a deep breath, trying to focus through the alcohol. "'n I drank to ferget that me face is fucked up ta hell 'n back... 'n that y'were pissed at meh."
He cleared his throat, focusing on the elevator doors before him. Ross remained quiet for a long moment, allowing his drunken mind to process the rest of what she said and pick the right words before vomitting out his thoughts. "Ya can ask anyone... Aye don' think little of me self. Aye like me self a lot, actually." He then looked over at her and if, for just a moment, he seemed completely sober. "Aye just think more of you... Sue me." There it was. That's the way to a girl's heart tell her she's special and then add some unneeded snark at the end. Ross would be kicking himself for saying that last bit in the morning. But there was little to no filter when alcohol was involved.
Petra's grip released his hand. "I'm not angry. At you." Ross snorted, unable to hide his amusement at her comment. She sure acted like she was angry. "I just don't agree with what you think, about either of us," she added with a quieter tone as if she was trying to keep the walls from overhearing their conversation.
Ross' gaze fell to the ground as he digested what she said. She probably meant it in a simple way, but his mind was plagued by the alcohol along with the assumption that she was partly angry because she didn't think of him in the way he thought of her. In his mind 'I don't agree with what you think about either of us.' Equalled whatever crush or feelings he had were not reciprocated and that she did not think that way about them. Sounded about right in his mind. "Ya could have just said that in the beginnin'." Ross' voice was quiet and sounded defeated. But he didn't argue it or press the matter, simply accepting her opinion as what it was.
He wanted to walk to his room himself and just be alone, but Ross could barely stay standing and Petra didn't seem to be going anywhere until she got him to his room. He was prefectly fine in the elevator but no one else seemed to be. After she managed to help him into his room, she mumbled in aggravation as she guided him to a stool before an arcade game. "Why don't you have a proper couch like normal people." He sat down, half leaning back against the machine as she disappeared else where in his penthouse. Maybe if he was sober he'd be selfconscious about someone rummaging through his place, but he couldn't care less at the moment.
Ross must have started dozing off as he waited on Petra to return because upon her arrival it startled him, nearly making him fall off the stool. "Take this. It's hot," she warned him as she bent down beside him. She guided his hands to cup the mug, making sure he wouldn't drop it before releasing her hold on his hands. He brought the warm drink to his mouth, blowing on it a bit before taking a sip. "Are you going to throw up, should I get a bucket?"
He looked up at her from the corner of his eyes with the mug still pressed to his lips. After a moment, he with withdrew it, holding the mug in his lap. "'m Scottish... Aye know how ta hold me liquor," he mused, trying his best to make the conversation lighthearted, choosing not to focus on his own rejection, sadness and whatever else until he was alone. His thumb began to trace around the brim of the mug as he focused on its liquid contents. After a moment he sighed, glancing over at his company. "Ya don' have ta stay... Aye'll be alright."
xxtobias lehnsherr
magnetox|xoutfitx|x#57428C
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"Stay," Wynne called after him as he rolled his wheelchair away. Tobias stopped where he was, willing the metal in the chair to slowly turn it to face her. "Please, don't go on my account. There's enough space for both of us. And I... might need an extra pair of eyes." She then tilted her head toward the popped stitches in her wing. "I mean - if you want to go, you know... I just meant you don't have to mind my presence..." The blonde then turned away, assumingly giving him space to leave if he so chose.
Tobias slowly rolled himself back to where he was, watching Wynne head over to the showers. Once she turned on the water, he adverted his eyes. It wasn't like she was naked or anything, but it felt wrong to watch. He was a polite gentleman and didn't want to make her uncomfortable. So while she cleaned her wounds, he made his way over behind the bar, searching for a first aid kit. Luckily, being an academy for 'heroes in training' there seemed to be first aid just about everywhere. He'd be lying if he didn't think it was appropriate. People like themselves were highly accident prone between training or their own egos.
He set the small metal box on his lap and rolled back out to the table as Wynne returned and took a seat. Once the wheelchair was pulled up to the table, he moved the first aid kit to the table and opened it. As he started sifting through it's contents, he glanced over at the blonde from the corner of his eyes as she spoke. "Sorry you had to see that. I don't get much chance to stretch these and practice, and keeping them folded up all the time, uh... It gets tiring, you know? Like if your hands were constantly bound behind your back."
"You don't need to apologize," Tobias said quietly. He continued to speak as he gathered what was needed form the box. "It's your mutation. All mutations are beautiful." He paused for moment, trying not to flinch at the realization that he sounded just like his father in that moment. He hated his father, but this was one thing he did agree with him on. "Especially one like yours... It's like any other muscle. If you don't use it, you'll lose it."
His brows furrowed slightly when he realized there was no peroxide or antiseptic in the first aid kit. Tobias held up his index in a just-a-moment gesture as he rolled himself back over to the bar. "I can levitate... But if I flied like you, I don't know if anyone could ever get me out of the sky," he said back toward Wynne as he sifted through the different bottles of liquor. He found the clearest fluid he could find, vodka, and made his way back over to her.
"This is a very peaceful spot. Do you come up here often?"
Tobias subconsciously slowed down his wheelchair as he returned, a little shocked at the question. It was a simple question. But it was... more personal than he expected someone like Wynne to ask. He half expected her to partake in a little small talk then dive into anything and everything about his father. That's how it usually went. He cleared his throat as he returned to the table. "Uh... Yes, I do. Not many of the others come up here." Tobias motioned his left index finger at her chair. Slowly and carefully he willed the metal within it, lifting and moving it so that she was sitting with her injured wing in front of him. "It's a good place to go when I don't want to be bothered," he added. But it wasn't in a snarky way as if a subtle way of saying he wanted her to leave, but more of just the truth of why he went up there often. "And I like to star gaze."
Off to the side, over the concrete, Tobias poured some of the alcohol over his hands to kill any germs. He probably looked like a natural as he prepped the materials. Between himself and his mother, he had to mend them more than a few times due to his father. Even before he came into his abilities, Tobias always had steady hands. "Alright... This is not going to feel good," he said with the alcohol in one hand and gauze in the other. He waited until she seemed prepared and poured the liquid over the would to clean it out. Once it was flushed out, he held the gauze to the opening with his right hand. His left then took one of her free hands, placing it over the gauze. "Hold that there for a moment."
He threaded the surgical needle seamlessly and then rolled his chair as close as he could manage. Tobias glanced over at the blonde, offering her his left hand in a silent gesture incase she needed something to hold onto. When she was ready, the fingers on his right hand moved slightly as he used his ability to steadily move the needle in and out of her flesh. He made quick work of it, able to move quicker using his mind rather than his hand. In no time the wing was stitched up. He knotted off the end and cut the string, then rolled back over to the first aid kit to clean everything up. "All done," he concluded as he gathered up the garbage and blood stained gauze.