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Post by Maria Callasantos on Jan 21, 2008 9:46:37 GMT -5
It was late winter in Westchester, New York. The sky was a thick gray. A cold wind danced through the naked branches that lined the road. All in all, the world looked desolate and gray. Nothing moved. The only sound that filled their air was a faint hum of a motor… a low hum that grew steadily louder as it got closer and closer to it’s destination. Like a black bullet the motorcycle roared its way down the two-lane street that would eventually lead to Xavier’s School of the Gifted. And the driver was eager to arrive. With a twist of her gloved hands and a press of her booted feet, the driver turned the throttle and gunned the gas, causing the Honda to rocket it’s way down the street, a black and silver blur. Amber eyes narrowed behind the visor of her black helmet, the cat like eyes instantly adjusting to the increase in speed, the eyes taking in the blurry world without any trouble. Sharp fangs grinned in a smile. At long last. She was finally returning home. It took the driver less then twenty minutes of zooming past truckers and minivans to eventually reach the gates of the school, the bike slowing to a stop when it reached the steps of the front door, the driver turning the rumbling engine off, and sitting up on her seat, hands reaching up to pull her helmet off, the figured turning to face the school doors with a grin. Her name was Maria Callasantos. And she was home. Setting the bike down against it’s kickstand, Maria turned to face the doors, her amber eyes sweeping upwards to the windows of the school, noting several eyes gazing down at her, Maria recognizing the sets of eyes bellowing to two young students, Maria catching their excited jabbering as if she were standing right next to them, Maria giving them a smile and a wink. They were commenting on how much she had changed. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Standing at the door was a figure that was different from the Maria Callasantos that everyone remembered. Not just in looks, but also attitude. Having recently cut her hair to a sultry-looking shoulder length bob, Maria stood before the entrance of the school a new woman. With her luscious, muscular curves outlined in skintight black leather pants, black sweater, black leather jacket, and high healed stiletto leather boots, Maria was a vision of confidence and power. After years of running from herself, Maria was at long last at peace with the monster inside of her. She was no longer a monster. Instead she had become something else entirely. She had become a warrior. She had become a hero. Two months ago Maria had received a call from someone she never expected from hearing from. Nick Fury, president of SHIELD, on lieu from the FBI. And he had an interesting proposition for Maria. Work for him and she would have her criminal record erased. Maria leapt at the opportunity. Maria had done terrible things in her youth. Awful things. She wanted to make amends, not only with herself, but also with the government. So she agreed to Nick Fury’s terms. She would help him capture escapees. And not only any escapees. Mutant terrorist escapees. Escapees from where you ask? Why the very same prison she herself had escaped from a year ago. The Vault. For two months Maria worked with a task force in bringing in mutant bad guys such as the Shocker and Carnage. It had been a rough couple of months. But at long last it was over. She was home. Maria slipped off the bike and sauntered her way towards the door, Maria pausing long enough to slide her book bag onto her back, Maria walking her way up to the door, and with a easy push, Maria walked into the main lobby, Maria’s nose drinking in the scent of the wood floor, her ears picking up the sound of rushing footsteps, Maria feeling her lips spread out into a joyous smile. “Yo! Wake up people. The hellraiser’s finally back home!” Maria called out to the hallway, Maria’s amber eyes dancing with merriment. Yep. It was good to be back home.
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Post by Wanda Maximoff on Jan 21, 2008 14:36:10 GMT -5
“Yo! Wake up people. The hellraiser’s finally back home!”
Emerging from the kitchen in her almost ever present uniform of faded jeans and a red sweatshirt with the Xavier Institute's distinctive 'X' logo in the centre of the chest, Wanda Maximoff smiled at the return of her friend. Maria had been less than clear as to where she was going, and communication had been sporadic since she had left. Wanda had grown concerned about the mutant known as Feral but there had been too much to do at the Institute to allow her to try to find her friend. The Scarlet Witch simply had to trust that Maria knew what she was doing, and could take care of herself.
Smiling happily Wanda closed the distance between herself and the new return, throwing her arms around Maria's neck in an affectionate hug. They had not exactly been hugging buddies before she had left, but the months of her absence had Wanda had grown increasingly convinced that something terrible was happening to her friend and her concern had grown daily. To see her alive, and in one piece with all of her limbs, was a relief. Giving Feral one last squeeze she stepped back, "You look good. And alive and everything."
There was not much else she could think of saying. Wanda would put some effort into interrogating her friend later, but she had to assume that Maria's secretiveness would continue beyond her return to the Xavier Institute and certainly would not be given up in the main entrance to the school with students milling about on their way to their first classes. Still it was obvious that Wanda was concerned, despite the relief she felt at seeing her friend. Her head tilted slightly as she studied Maria for clues to where she had been for the last few months, but nothing was evident to her.
"I am really glad that you are back," she concluded, her curiosity held in check for the time being.
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Jan 21, 2008 21:03:42 GMT -5
People changed. That was the way things went. Particularly for mutants, people who changed simply because they were born a certain way. Kurt Wagner was one such person. Following the Decimation virus, many mutants had left the mansion, gone to recuperate, or simply to take some time off. It certainly wasn’t as though the X-Men hadn’t needed a break.
Kurt hadn’t left, something that was perhaps ironic since his mutation, his gift, was the ability to travel, faster than anyone else. But the blue teleporter had stayed behind, and rather than taking a physical journey, he’d taken a spiritual one. As a member of the team that went to District X, to try to help those afflicted, Kurt had seen firsthand the havoc the disease had wrought upon those infected, and the far worse destruction wrought by those who had been infected. The faith that had supported him since his early teens had suddenly become a shaky foundation.
And during his journey to either regain his faith, or else lose it forever, Kurt had changed. Those who had met him on that first night at the mansion would find him completely unrecognizable, transformed wholly from the shy recluse into a loveable scoundrel. His faith was restored to its former strength, although somewhat altered, but Kurt gained something else as well. For the first time in his life, he was completely unashamed of his appearance. He was as God had meant him to be, and for all those who couldn’t accept that? Well, that was their problem.
As for Kurt, well, these days he raced about the Mansion, occasionally using the Danger Room to engage in piratical swordplay with some of the more swashbuckling teachers and adventurous students, even going so far as to use his teleporting abilities to play tricks on people while the resident jokester, Kevin Sydney aka Morph, and a good friend of Kurt’s, was away. Kurt was a rather poor substitute, but as long as he got even a faint smile, he considered his efforts worthwhile.
That wasn’t to say Kurt had neglected his duties, nor that he had lost his more serious side. He still prepared rigorously for his classes, refusing to let the students consider his course the “easy” or “joke” course, and had been in contact with the administration about the construction of a no-denomination house of worship to be built on school grounds. There was some resistance, but Kurt thought that with a bit more effort, he could push it through.
Kurt had had, to put it simply, an epiphany, a word from God. More than teaching, more than security, more than anything else, the students of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters needed faith. Not faith in Christianity, or even necessarily religious faith at all. No, what the students needed was something they could believe in, and for some, religion filled that gap. But for others, it could be something as simple as a belief in basic human decency.
Many of the students at the school had come from less than ideal situations, cast out of their homes or rescued after the violent deaths of their parents, and it was these children Kurt worried about most. They were the quiet, angry ones, the ones to whom Magneto’s words of honeyed poison were most appealing, and these were the ones Kurt put special time aside to speak with, and to engage in both scholastic and extra-curricular activities whenever possible.
Recently, Kurt had stepped down a bit from that particular position, as other members of the X-Men, who had been away from the school, began to return. Just as he’d become newly determined to reach out to the student body, so too was he now set on entering the often dramatic, often hectic, but ultimately enjoyable world of the staff’s interpersonal relationships.
For the most part, this meant that Kurt was using his teleporting abilities to ensure that he was almost immediately at the door to welcome whomever it was that came home. At the moment, he was enjoying a bit of down time, relaxing from his somewhat frenetic activities earlier that day, which had included racing a student speedster who was still working on control of his abilities, and giving a few private lessons about theatrics to a group of students who were considering theater as their vocation. Sighing in contentment as he began reading the second act of Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia, Kurt had only read the first few lines of the play when the low throbbing sound of a vehicle with a powerful engine came to his pointed blue ears.
“Vhat is vith all zhe motorcycles people are driving zhese days…” Kurt mused, shaking his head in bafflement. He’d been in the States for almost a year now, and still didn’t understand some of things that Americans seemed so enthralled with. Then again, perhaps riding a motorcycle lost some of its charm when you could be almost anywhere you wanted, instantly. After more than half a lifetime of near-instant travel wherever he went, any kind of prolonged travel tended to grate on him.
However, motorcycles were not what was important at the moment. Rather, who was on the motorcycle was important. Or, even less specifically, that someone was on the motorcycle at all. Regardless of who it was, Kurt was planning on being there when they arrived. Slowly, he counted to himself “…Ein, zwei, drei…” before suddenly vanishing, appearing upsidedown, hanging by his tail from the large chandelier that hung above the door in the main entranceway, one of the few spaces he felt safe teleporting into, due to both the size of the hall, and his familiarity with it, and arriving just in time to hear Maria Callasantos, aka Feral, step through the door, saying, [i]“Yo! Wake up people. The hellraiser’s finally back home!”[/i][/color]
Kurt grinned. Whatever Maria said of herself, she had always struck Kurt as one truly best people he’d ever met. Many people were good because they were brought up to be, or because that was easiest for them. Neither was true with Maria. The feral had overcome tremendous inner demons, the likes of which even Kurt knew he hadn’t come close to having to face. When it came right down to it, he knew she was a far better person than he’d ever be, and seeing her back at the Mansion, alive and more in possession of herself than he’d ever seen her brought a flush of warmth to his heart.
Just as he prepared to drop upon Maria and greet her in spectacular fashion, Wanda rushed into the room, and swept up Maria in a warm hug of greeting. Now, this was all very well and good, but it spoiled Kurt’s hope for a dramatic entrance completely. So, dropping to the floor and landing with his characteristic grace, Kurt sighed somewhat and put on a show of looking bored, standing behind the two women, closer to the center of the hall. As Wanda pulled away from Maria, saying "I am really glad that you are back,” Kurt grinned at Feral, and winked.
“Pretend you didn’t see me just now,” he said in a loud stage whisper, before disappearing, and reappearing once again hanging upside-down from the chandelier. In a loud, theatric voice, he called from the ceiling, “Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!” using the black-blue smoke that wreathed his form to fullest effect.
Disappearing once again, he popped back into reality, this time standing right behind Maria. “It looks like you brought a bit of heaven back vith you, Frau. Callasantos, hellraiser or no hellraiser.” Kurt’s words were light, but carried with them a ring of sincerity. Dropping his theatric air, Kurt gave Maria a genuine smile. “Velcome back, Maria. You vere missed…” he said, quietly.
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Kevin Sydney
X-MEN
Morph
The duty of comedy is to correct men by amusing them
Posts: 9
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Post by Kevin Sydney on Jan 21, 2008 23:17:14 GMT -5
He'd been gone a long time. Least it felt that way, though he supposed time didn't exactly fly when you lived top of a mountain with nothing but wrinkly old men who hadn't seen a woman since the Regan was president. But it been worth it, time well spent. God only knew what he would have been like right now if he hadn't left.
Like so many others, Kevin had been one of the mutants to join the fight in District X, trying to help the sick while protecting those who was so lost to the pain of the disease that they knew no reason, turned to mindless beasts, slaves to the sickness. It had hit him, and many others, hard. What he'd seen, it had changed him, shattered his faith in the creed and belief that had been his guiding light for years. Xavier's dream seemed further and further away every day, and he stopped believing it was ever possible.
He used to preach that the world was a good place, and suddenly he felt like a liar. That silver lining that he'd fought for had vanished, leaving nothing but darkness and the horrors of man and mutant behind. He tried to make jokes, but his heart wasn't in it and it showed. He tried to make pranks, but they felt as much and attempt to deceive himself as the intended victim. Kevin knew he was just trying to avoid facing the simple truth, that he'd lost his way, lost the very thing that made him do what he did.
For a while, he contemplated staying, to trick himself and hope it kept him going. But that would have been unfair to both himself and the people he'd made it his mission to protect. Fact of the matter was that he had to have a faith in Xavier's dream even greater then the others, or it would be the blind leading the blind. How could he preach something he didn't believe?
So he left, spent months eating rice that grew blander by the day and sitting in a room and humming to himself. First he felt incredibly silly, but the fact was that it, and a few talks with the temple abbot, helped him back on the path. He found his faith again, made all the stronger by the trial. There was no doubt what his purpose was now, no question that mankind held within it the potential to see the light, however hard it tried to deny it. Plus, he'd discovered he looked killer in orange. Which was no small feat, since there aren't a lot of thing that goes well with 'pasty white'.
Still, it was time to come back home, and as much as he was grateful to the monks who'd helped him, he couldn't wait to get back to civilization, where there were such wonderful things as TV, fried chicken and Sports illustrated swimsuit edition. Oh man, he'd missed that.
Of course, there was one reason more important for his return then greasy food and supermodel. His family, or the people who might as well be. Xavier was his home, and the people who shared it with him were more important to him then anything. Even ol' Oneye (and the stick up his ass) held a special place in Morph's heart.
Quite frankly, he couldn't wait to meet them again. To toss back a couple of brews with Kurt while they quipped and fenced in the Danger room, just having a good time while they buckled their swash and swashed their buckles. Fact of the matter was, Morph had grown quite close to Kurt before he left, more so then he'd ever really expected. At first glance, he'd always pegged the 'Incredible Nightcrawler' as quite the fundamentalist, a group of people Morph never really saw eye to eye with. They could have whatever faith they wanted to, far as he was concerned, but some old book didn't give them any right to tell him what to do or how to live. 'Course, it hadn't helped that Morph had been nursing quite the boyhood crush on Ororo at the time, with Kurt his main adversary for her affections.
But, as it turned out, Kurt was quite far from the biblethumper Morph had envisioned him, and since he'd quickly come to realize that Ororo wasn't his kind of woman, there was little to stand in the way of Morph getting to know Kurt. And he was glad he did, 'cause despite the Smurf's lacking knowledge of popculture and American customs, he was quite possibly the greatest friend one could ask for.
Squeezing silently and easily through the bars of the front gate, Morph made his way up to the school, leaning against the frame of the still open front door, arms folded across one of his trademark Hawaiian shirts, this one white and blue, unbuttoned over a white shirt with the words 'Well this is fucking awkward' printed in plain letters on the front. Coupled with his everpresent jeans and bare feet, Morph looked just as he had when he'd left, though his grin had taken on a slightly less goofy sheen.
As he surveyed the sight before him, he couldn't help but feel good. Maria was there, looking oh so fine. And with him not having laid eyes upon anything but wrinkly old men with liver spots and saggy skin for five months, who could blame him for letting his eyes wander, slowly, over those curves so dangerous there should be signs. And Wanda.... mmmmm.... Wanda...
“It looks like you brought a bit of heaven back vith you, Frau. Callasantos, hellraiser or no hellraiser.”
"Yeah, she came and dragged me out of there, just when I was getting ready to put the moves on Marylin Monroe and everything."[/B] Cracking the grin that had, more then anything, become his signature before continuing. "So Blueberry, how you been? And Maria, Wanda..."[/B] he said, giving both of them very suggestive winks with hairless eyebrows. "I've spent the last five months in celibacy, got a lot of.... energy to work off. Whadda ya say? Ya know you want a taste of the Morph, and there's more then enough delicious, doughy goodness to go around."[/B]
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Post by Maria Callasantos on Jan 28, 2008 18:47:33 GMT -5
Just seconds after she called out to the empty halls, Maria’s sensitive ears caught the sound of approaching footsteps, Maria closing her eyes to listen to their cadence in order to identify the individual, a scent reaching Maria’s nose just before the person entered the hall, Maria feeling her lips break out into a vibrant smile. “Wanda!”
Feeling her ambler eyes dance with joy as the chaos witch entered the hall, Maria could not help herself but let out a playful squeal as the woman came at her with arms outstretched, Maria letting out a joyous laugh as Wanda threw her arms around her neck in a warm hug, Maria dropping her things to the floor in order to give Wanda a hug as well, the feral Latina wrapping her arms around Wanda’s waist and giving her a tight hug, ever mindful of not squeezing to hard., If she did, she’d probably end up crushing Wanda in her arms. Not a good thing.
“You look good. And alive and everything. I am really glad that you are back.”
Maria smiled ruefully, her hand going up to her shorter, shoulder length curls and giving them a playful shake, Maria flashing Wanda an apologetic smile. “Yea, thanks. I cut it yesterday.” Maria said simply, deciding not to comment on the alive part. Maria knew that she had worried several of the staff members when she announced that she was going on a two-month long leave… and wasn’t able to tell them where. Words like that always meant only one thing. Danger.
In habit at such thoughts, Maria’s eyes darted downwards to her chest, her eyes glazing as dark memories of events of what she had gone through the last two months running through her mind, Maria remembering a case from two weeks ago. A perp had tried to make a run for it. Maria got the drop on him… but not before he coup whip out an Uzi. Maria remembered the sound of gunfire echoing against her ears, the feel of the bullets slamming into her chest like raindrops. She had been practically ripped in half… and yet had somehow survived long enough to rip the perp’s throat. And now look at her. Alive. And without a mark on her. It still freaked her out.
BAMF!
Suddenly there was a explosion of sound and a cloud of brimstone, a sure sign that Maria had a fresh welcome waiting for her, Maria turning on her heals to look up, expecting to see a familiar blue face look down at her from the chandelier, Maria’s face splitting out into a wide smile, amber eyes aglow, surprised to find her would be assailant not up on the chandelier, but standing behind Wanda, his three-fingered arms crossed over his chest, a bored expression on his blue, tooted face, flashing fangs that rivaled her own. Kurt Wagner, aka Nightcrawler. Swashbuckler and all around great guy. Maria smiled, picking up on the joke immediately. “Howdy Kurt.” Maria said, giving him a bright grin.
“Pretend you didn’t see me just now,” Nightcrawler said in a loud stage whisper.
Maria nodded in mock obedience. “Gotcha.”
BAMF!
Disappearing, and reappearing once again hanging upside-down from the chandelier, Nightcrawler gave them all a wide grin, and in a loud, theatric voice, he called from the ceiling with enough oomph to give a Shakespearian actor a run for his money. “Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!” he cried, Maria feeling her lips twist into an amused smile, her eyes gazing up at him, watching him fall to the floor in dramatic cadence. Leave it to Kurt to know how to make an entrance.
Once again teleporting in a cloud of smoke, Maria blinked her amber eyes, surprised to find the blue-furred acrobat standing behind her, Maria fighting the sudden need to applaud, finding the display both charming and amusing. It had been on of the things she had missed most about him. His fun-loving attitude.
“It looks like you brought a bit of heaven back vith you, Frau. Callasantos, hellraiser or no hellraiser.” Kurt’s words were soft and light, but carried with them a ring of sincerity, Maria feeling her amused smile warm. Dropping his theatric air, Kurt gave Maria a genuine smile. “Velcome back, Maria. You vere missed…”
Maira could not help it. She reached out and grabbed the blue teleporter and gave him a big hug, her embrace warm, pulling back after a long minute. “Danke, herr Wagner. It’s good to be back.” Maria said, and with that planted a playful kiss on his cheek, Maira finally pulling back, giving the teleporter a grin, knowing she must have caught him off guard.
“Yeah, she came and dragged me out of there, just when I was getting ready to put the moves on Marilyn Monroe and everything.” Called a familiar voice, Maria pulling away from Nightcrawler long enough to get a look at the voice’s owner, Maria feeling her lips twisting to the side, Maria feeling her lips pull back to expose her fangs in a wide, joyous smile.
“Kevin! You haven’t changed a bit.” Maria teased, giving the shapeshifter a wink, Maira knowing he’d get the joke. After, as a metamorph who never aged, Kevin Syney, better known as Morph, never changed. Well he natural form didn’t anyway. For as long as that lasted. Which was hardly ever.
Cracking the grin that had long ago become his trademark grin, Kevin walked up to the three, his eyes going to kurt. “So Blueberry, how you been? And Maria, Wanda…” he said, giving both of them very suggestive winks with hairless eyebrows. “I've spent the last five months in celibacy, got a lot of… energy to work off… Whadda ya say? Ya know you want a taste of the Morph, and there's more then enough delicious, doughy goodness to go around.”
Maira let out a laugh, having long ago grown used to Kevin's lewd version of humor, the feral holding up her hands in mock defensiveness, Maria giving the shapeshifter a toothy grin. “Easy there tiger. I doubt you could handle me in the sack… no mater how elastic your skin may be.” Maira joked, giving him a quirky wink before ruining it with a laugh, maria moving forward to give Kevin a hug, knowing he’d comment on being left out if she didn’t, maria releasing him after a moment, giving him a smile. “How’ve you been Morphy? Behaved while I was gone? Or do I have to de-flood the med lab again?”
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Post by Ororo Munroe on Feb 1, 2008 11:35:01 GMT -5
Riding on the shoulders of a wild, playful wind, with nature intertwining itself with the fabric of her very being, Ororo Munroe drifted seemingly aimlessly through the cloudless azure sky. Her exotic beauty was illuminated by golden sunlight, streams of warmth dappling her well-toned form as she allowed a truly contented smile to grace her rouged lips. Although she had used the funds made available to her via the Institute to book transport from Africa to New York, the stifling artificial flight had disturbed her; after months spent traversing the open plains of the Serengeti, repeating the trek she had made as a child, her claustrophobia had flared at the prospects of hours restricted to a plane cabin. As a result, she had chosen to take her leave from the vehicle at its second refuelling point.
Whilst she had found the plane and its weary passengers to be distressing, her own form of natural flight was soothing. She couldn't resist a sense of fulfilment as she flew, as though feeling her silver-ivory tresses being ruffled and caressed by the passing winds was achieving something other than attuning herself with nature. After all, amongst mutantkind, that was hardly a startling feat - although, given the choice, the Wind Rider would not exchange her abilities for any other. Her deep blue gaze wandered across the landscape below, settling on a familiar stretch of land occupied largely by an aged, wisened structure. Even the mere sight of it widened her grin, and for a single moment she was consumed by a flood of memories - from her first arrival to her departure. This revived the loss of the Chimera Virus, but she pressed it back into the depths of her mind as she descended to the front yard.
She landed lightly, and fell into a crouch. She drew her slender digits through the exquisitely emerald blades of grass, enjoying the tickling sensation that spread through her fingertips. A deep inhalation reacquanited her with a number of wonderfully comforting scents - the sweetness of the honeysuckle sprouting at the front gate, the freshly-varnished oak entrance doors, the slight remnants of chlorine that wafted from the back swimming pool. Rising to her feet, Ororo smirked triumphantly and cast her arms out to her sides. The weather responded to her muted joy with an unmatched enthusiasm, driving wisps of wind around its mistress' legs and allowing a few spatters of warm summer rain to pepper across her face. The Sun beamed ever-so-slightly brighter, giving its approval to the X-Man named Storm. Bathed in its celestial light, she felt it seep into her body.
"I'm home," she murmured softly.
Having reacquainted herself with the front gardens, she strode purposely towards the front door and, with one final breath, stepped inside. The entrance hall was just as magnificent as she had remember it, and she took a moment to admire the fresh surroundings and note the changes before turning her attention to the small number of people gathered before her. The foremost figure was Maria Callasantos, codenamed Feral and with an animalistic nature rivalling even Logan's. Assembled around her was a throng of familiar faces - Wanda Maximoff, the daughter of Magneto and a strange addition to their forces but a powerful one, despite Ororo's inital reservations; Kurt Wagner, the trustworthy teleporter and a man whom Ororo viewed as one of her dearest friends, and; Kevin Sydney, the resident changeling known as Morph. The Weather Witch had taken heed of Maria's motorbike outside, and the welcoming congregation implied that she had been elsewhere for a while.
Ororo was not surprised. The more bestially-inclined of the X-Men were prone to soul-searching journies, after all.
"Hello, everybody. I hate to steal your thunder, Maria," she began with a sly wink, "but hi, everyone. Have you missed me?"
[OOC: I hope you don't mind me intruding!]
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Post by Kurt Wagner on Feb 4, 2008 0:43:32 GMT -5
:OOC: Skipping Wanda to keep thread moving :OOC:
Kurt grinned as Maria played along with his antics, tolerating them in her good-natured way. As he finished his acrobatics, and Maria grinned at him, he couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed. He’d have thought that he’d have gotten at least a few claps for that performance. Well, no matter. That simply meant that next time, he’d have to- Kurt’s thoughts were interrupted as Maria grabbed him suddenly, pulling him into a warm embrace.
Now, Kurt was a friendly person, but he still wasn’t used to physical closeness. No matter how comfortable and welcoming people in the Mansion were, most of them couldn’t bring themselves to touch Kurt, even enough to shake his hand. It was unfortunate, but he had gotten used to the slight twinge of pain he felt whenever someone shied away from a handshake with him. Which was why, when Maria pulled him in for a hug, and held him there for a goodly length of time, Kurt’s wits failed him.
Ordinarily, Kurt liked to style himself as a quick-witted fellow, with a clever repartee to any and all situations. However, his brain seemed to have stopped working as Maria said, “Danke herr Wagner. It’s good to be back.” It didn’t matter that her pronunciation was terrible, with far too much sibilant Spanish in it to ever be thought of as true German, but the fact that she tried was the important part.
The german words jumpstarted Kurt’s brain, and he opened his mouth to make some comment about Hank McCoy, known lovingly as the Beast, had been irritable the last few months because no one had given him an opportunity to fix things in the Danger Room. However, Maria managed to freeze Kurt’s brain once again as she planted a soft kiss on his cheek. The contact was quick, and she was pulling away almost before Kurt’s stunned mind had registered what had happened. Kurt stood motionless, a broad grin on his blue face, as his tail spiraled up into a corkscrew behind him.
As a familiar monotone voice floated through the doorway, it was all Kurt could do to turn towards the sound of the voice. Kevin Sydney, or Morph, as he was almost universally called, stood naked before them, clad only in a Hawai’an shirt, a plain white t-shirt with the inscription “Well this is fucking awkward” stamped across the front in plain, black font, and a pair of ubiquitous jeans clinging to his legs above his bare feet.
Kurt’s grin widened as his brain slowly began to start moving again, and as Maria moved forward to greet Morph with a comment as saucy as the shapeshifter could ever wish for. Well, maybe not, but one that managed to raise Kurt’s eyebrows nonetheless. Grinning himself as his surprise wore off, Kurt BAMFed again, the black smoke left in his wake swirling up towards the ceiling as he appeared between Morph and Maria, filling in the space between the two of them just as Maria stepped back from her warm hug. A warm hug, Kurt noted, feeling somewhat smug, that had been entirely without kissing of any sort.
As Maria moved back, Kurt wrapped his arms around Morph, giving him a hug that Kurt knew would surprise the usually unflappable shapeshifter, and then vanishing again, leaving Morph holding only a swiftly disappearing cloud of smoke as Kurt moved away from Morph before Morph did anything questionable with his incredibly versatile powers. Chuckling slightly, Kurt smiled in a slightly more subdued fashion, as grinning, he asked, “Vell…how’ve you been, mon freund?”
Before Kevin could give his full answer, however, another form walked through the door, one that completely arrested his interest. Ororo Munroe, the former Headmistress of Xavier’s Academy for Gifted Youngsters, and, more importantly for Kurt, the woman that he had loved from afar since his return to the institute. There had been an initial attraction between Kurt and Ororo when Kurt had first met the X-Men, after Stryker had tried to make him kill the President of the United States of America, but then Kurt had left the X-Men and returned to Germany.
When he’d come back to the Mansion, he’d quickly fallen in love with Ororo, and while there had been a few moments when it had seemed as though his long cultivated love would finally bear fruit (a kiss at New Years and a few quiet minutes in the kitchen during a storm came to mind), but troubles with the Brotherhood, and then the Chimera Virus always meant that they had to postpone things time and time again.
And then Ororo had vanished, gone who knows where for how long, leaving before Kurt had even had a chance to return to the Mansion after his team had finished their work in District X, distributing the cure for the virus and dealing with the damage the terrible disease had left in its wake.
But now she was back, walking through the door and smiling calmly, the shine in her blue eyes showing a kindness and a deep wisdom far beyond her age. "Hello, everybody. I hate to steal your thunder, Maria," she said, giving Maria a wink, "but hi, everyone. Have you missed me?"
Compared to his greetings of Maria and Kevin, Kurt’s welcoming greeting to Ororo was far more restrained. His face seemed to split as he grinned a smile of sharp teeth. “Ororo…” he began, unsure of what to say. With Maria, even with Kevin, that had merely been the welcome of a friend. With Ororo, Kurt had no idea what to do, but, determined not to relapse into his previous state of perpetual quiet shyness, he laughed, and pulled Ororo into a close hug, although he didn’t hold it any longer than he did Kevin’s before stepping back. Still smiling, Kurt said, “I…Ve've missed you.”
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Post by Wanda Maximoff on Feb 5, 2008 20:21:57 GMT -5
((OOC: Quick exit on my part to leave you all at it. Plus I've got Wanda and Maria together at Harry's))
The entrance had quickly become crowded and Wanda, who despite her increasing comfort at the Xavier Institute was not exactly the most out going of people, quickly felt overwhelmed. There was not a person there who she did not count as a good friend, save perhaps Ororo with whom her relationship had never moved beyond strictly business, but still she felt overwhelmed and not quite sure what to say. Everyone seemed happy with the new arrivals but Wanda was not sure where she would go from there. Had it just been Maria and herself she would have taken the opportunity to catch up on what had happened to the woman over the last few months, but she knew that whatever it was it was unlikely she was going to discover it in such a public setting. Then there was the other reason for her discomfort, Ororo and Kurt.
Wanda still nursed feelings for Scott Summers from when she had first seen him years ago when she was in the Brotherhood, but for the most part those were behind her. A school girl crush for a girl who never went to school. He feelings for Kurt were fresher, stemming from a particularly fractious night at Harry's where she had argued with him over whether to allow a student to drink in the bar or not. Later she had gone to apologize and discovered that they had so much in common, and yet so many differences. Her twin Pietro was the only person she felt understood her fully, but she had grown to feel that Kurt Wagner was a close second. However it did not take a telepath to see that Kurt was far more taken with Ororo. Love. It was sweet.
While she could not fault either of them for this, it still stung a little seeing Kurt light up at the sight of Storm in a way that he would never light up for her. Keeping an expression of delight on her face Wanda gave Maria another hug, "I must go, I have class soon but we will catch up." It was a promise and a threat, if a soft threat, something strange had happened to Maria and she wanted to find out what.
She smiled at Storm, "It is good to have you back Ororo. To me this school is never the same without you."
Smiling at the other two mainstays, Kurt and Mort, she departed heading down the hallway towards her classroom. It had been true, she did have a class soon, but not soon enough to require an immediate departure. However a few minutes to collect herself would be for the best.
// Exit Wanda //
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Post by Ororo Munroe on Feb 10, 2008 13:02:57 GMT -5
Ororo allowed herself to be drawn into Kurt's warm embrace, feeling his strangely-shaped hands press into her back. Although the contact was brief, as he retreated rather quickly (almost as though he were flustered, she observed), she no longer felt the involuntary need to shudder. When she had first met the teleporter, she had suppressed her shock at his appearance and nursed private concerns as to whether she would be able to overcome such a human prejudice. Thankfully, she had done so quickly; it would have been a shame, she thought, if she had been uncomfortable in the presence of such a wonderful man. Her azure gaze remained on him as he drew back from the hug, uncertainty tainting his expression for a single moment. Then, he chuckled softly, and she echoed the noise. “I…Ve've missed you,” he murmured. The earnestness and honesty was clear in his tone, and the Wind Rider appreciated the genuineness of the statement. "I've missed you, too," she returned, reaching out and gripping his shoulder reassuringly. "I've missed all of you."Ororo watched as Wanda excused herself, inwardly reminding herself to take time to become reacquainted with the so-called Scarlet Witch at a later date. The daughter of Magneto had proven her loyalty to the X-Men beyond a doubt, and she deserved her place at the Institute as much as any other resident...however, Ororo could not deny that she, personally, had treated her with suspicion and doubt on her arrival. It was understandable, of course, but she was still riddled with guilt over the incident, despite assurances that she was simply considering the safety of her students and her teammates. Wanda could easily have been a spy or a traitor, and with her unpredictable abilities, she could have inflicted severe damage on them all. If such treachery had occurred, morale would have plummeted -- -- Ororo consciously derailed her train of thought, silently reprimanding herself for allowing her leadership mindset to assert itself. Studying the past would accomplish nothing; Professor Xavier had delivered this admonishment to her many times prior to his murder, and yet she had still not fully heeded it. It was in her nature, she supposed, to brood upon memories, as much as it was in her nature to hurl globes of lightning and torrential rains. The buzz of conversation had begun to decline at her entrance, most likely because those gathered had found their attentions divided between the two returnees. A smile touched Ororo's lips as she moved graciously towards the staircase, making sure to greet everyone with a widened grin and a small wave along the way. "I'll catch up with you all later. I'm eager to get back to my attic, and tend to my plants..." Her smile became a sarcastic smirk. "And I suppose I'd better see how many changes Scott has made to my beautifully-established regime." Pausing at the first step, she turned back to Nightcrawler. "Kurt. Would you care to walk with me?"//EXIT: Ororo// (OOC: Kurt, if you do want to accompany Ororo, feel free to post your reply here or start a new thread. If not, just have him decline.
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Kevin Sydney
X-MEN
Morph
The duty of comedy is to correct men by amusing them
Posts: 9
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Post by Kevin Sydney on Feb 17, 2008 8:36:29 GMT -5
It was good to be back. Not that that needed to be said, since even a headless chicken could figure that he'd prefer a school full of mutant hotties to a temple full of wrinkly old guys. Definitely better then that scary ass doctor in Venezuela. That guy wasn't fun when he got angry, as Morph's five mile flight could attest to. Man had no sense of humor either. Plus... green... not his color. But now he was back, like a bad case o' the crabs, and he suspected he had to scare this place back into fearing the rightful ruler of this school, and he wasn't talking about a certain ice queen so cold she sneezed ice cubs. No, he was talking about the true power in this place. Namely, Him. Sure, he might not have any real influence, or sway, or control, or even the slightest ability to pull the string of the first graders. But, he had a weapon far more lethal and dangerous then contacts, friends and nuclear missiles. Humor. And exploding rubber chickens. He suspected it was mostly the exploding rubber chickens. There was so much he had to do now. Trace down all the new kids and scare the living daylights out of the fresh meat. Hmm, dinosaurs? Monsters? Naked Logan? Or maybe he could buy a whole lot of silly putty and splash it all across the halls? Yeah, that be symbolic... or something. Didn't matter really. He was just glad to be back home with his freaky mutant brothers and sisters. Not that he wasn't thankful to the monks and all they'd done for him, but no matter how good they were at wisdom and philosophy and all that jazz, they weren't exactly in the forefront of the party animal crowd. And they had no sense of humor. Like that one time he'd brought a boombox to the meditation chamber, they'd all started contemplating what kind of point he was trying to make, when, in reality, all he'd really tried to do was make them listen to Lionel Richie. “Easy there tiger. I doubt you could handle me in the sack… no mater how elastic your skin may be.”When your skin was as malleable as Play-doh, or the tastes of a drunk colleague chick, answering with your body as much as your mouth became a easy habit. So as soon as the word 'tiger' slipped from Marias luscious lips, Morph quickly grew large black stripes across his entire body as he gave a light snort at her comment. "Please! I once hooked up with this chick at Halo. Claws like friggin' razors. And she was a scratcher, if you know what I mean." The shape shifter finished with a wink, once more discarding any and all pretense at subtlety. Once, he'd been really subtle. But then he'd speed past sneaky, rocket past deceptive and in some roundabout way returned to blatantly obvious. As he found himself assaulted by hot hugging action, Morph felt that warm, fuzzy feeling in his... stomach. He'd missed this. Missed his friends and the school. Missed hazing the new kids and terrorizing the old ones. Missed filling Logan's uniform with Vaseline and trying to fool the girls of the school to participate in oil wrestling. Then, he found himself somewhat surprised as Kurt followed suit with a purely and utterly platonic hug of his own. Now, while Morph certainly counted Kurt as one of his closest friends, the blueberry's sudden and rather emotional action caught him somewhat unaware. But nobody would ever say that the Morph remained stunned for long. No, he'd dodged one too many campus cops and their tazers to let himself be subdued by some blue elf. Unfortunately, just as his mind was quickly formulating the most perfect application of morphological revenge, Kurt ran away like a little sissy girl. Fucking coward! But even with his revenge unfulfilled, for now (Your time will come you pointy eared little elf, your time will come! I'll get you, and your little dog too!), seeing Kurt again: all around good time. “Vell…how’ve you been, mon freund?”"I've spent six months with a bunch of guys who've haven't gotten laid since they capped Kennedy..." he quieted down for a few seconds, only to quickly deliver the punchline. "Last I heard, they had to set up backparties to stop the spread of my funky party grooves."However, any intentions of his to continue the conversation was cut short by the arrival of a certain white haired weather witch, and Kevin knew the attention of his friend were gonna be on someone not him for the rest of the day. And probably a fair bit of the night, though someone as chaste as Kurt would never admit that. So Morph wasn't gonna even bother trying to tear Kurt's eyes away from the oh so bewitching behind of Storm. Watching with a smile far softer then his usual ear to ear grin, Morph stood quietly watching as the two put in their greetings before Storm beat a hasty retreat, with an offer for Kurt to join her. Leaning in close to his friend's ear, with a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Morph gave a few encouraging words "Good luck bro. Now go get some." before, rather forcefully, shoving the smurf in the right direction. "As for me, I got six months of Carson to catch up on. Plus, gotta, ehm, 'introduce' myself to all the new kids." Morph had worked hard, putting in countless long, tolling hours to master the secret, long lost art of managing to actually speak quotation marks. But it was an art well worth the effort. With a quick wink to his spiritual brother and a salute to the scrumptious Feral, Morph morphed into a ball and quite literally bounced away. [Exit Morph. And DAMN this post sucked, but least Kurt and Ororo can go their swirl on now. Sorry for taking so bloody long ]
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