[Waking up in Quentin's bed had been a shock in and of itself, but doing so in the nude and by himself was simply the cherry on top at this point.
He drew one hand up to his head, scrubbing over his face then lingering to absently rub his right temple, the hazy memories of the night before slowly coming back. Wait, had he and Quentin actually--? Being naked didn't necessarily mean sex had happened, though he scrambled to his feet anyway, clutching the sheet around his waist while hunting for the nearest thing he could use to check himself out, which just so happened to be the window. He stopped halfway past it, turned to face his reflection and slapped a hand over his mouth.
Holy shit.
The sides of his neck, down to his collarbone are littered with small bite-marks and bruises, things that had obviously been made by another person. He sunk his teeth into his knuckle then tossed his cover back onto the bed, rushing around to gather his discarded clothes to get re-dressed. He was a bit achy and wanted a shower, but after sneaking a peek at his phone, the display reminded him that it's lunchtime and that sounds a little more satisfying to him.
So, with his leggings and pullover back in place, he yanked the hood over his head (a poor attempt at hiding his mottled neck) and hurried his way down to the dining hall to collect food. Something simple such as fruit and yogurt with granola, considering the slight queasiness he'd been feeling. He spared a glance around the hall after getting in, chewing at his lower lip in an almost frantic manner before moving to drop himself into a seat where there were far less people than normal.
He hadn't spotted the telepath, except maybe - just maybe - that was a good thing, for the moment.]
[Quentin had woken up at his usual alarm in a similar state, both physically and mentally, as Kurt. Neither the alarm, nor untangling himself from the other mutant had woken him up, so Quentin had decided just to let him sleep. It save him from having to deal with... this. At least for a while.
They'd had a bit of wine, but he hadn't been drunk. Far from it. He remembered everything. Kissing had led to making out had led to... biting. They'd 'hooked up'. At least, Quentin considered a mix of jerking each other off and sort of-half oral as hooking up.
He could've easily covered up the bruises and bitemarks with telepathy, but he hadn't. His friends had asked him what had happened and he'd just smirked in response, but skirted the questions. By lunchtime, the rumors had taken on a life of their own.
Actually seeing Kurt in the lunchroom made his devil may care attitude waver slightly. He stopped without warning, getting run into by another student who'd been walking along behind him, causing a tiny scene that Quentin hurried away from, head ducked. He quickly grabbed some food and took a seat at an empty table, avoiding eye contact.]
[Frankly, he shouldn't be surprised that people have already started talking. It's a school and even worse, all of them live here; there's no real escape from prying eyes and whispers of who might have hooked up the night before. Fridays were part of the weekend, after all.
Kurt's more in luck than he'd assumed because people come to sit with him and when he glances up from beneath his hood, eyes bloodshot and a frown creasing his features, it must be enough to clue them in on his currently dour mood. He shrugs when questioned, but they move along, leaving him to stew in his thoughts.
After this, he could go and search Quentin out, see about getting some clearer answers about last night. He'd drank more than he anticipated and while he hadn't been completely gone, there are a few things that continue to gnaw at his conscious. Mostly, the insatiable curiosity is spurred by his need to know how far he and the other mutant had gone, since he can't seem to remember.
The commotion caused by Quentin and another student make him look up from where he's dragging a spoon through the yogurt mixture, iridescent eyes broadening at the sight of the pink-haired male. He turned away as quickly as he could manage, focusing his attention on the table in hopes that he hadn't been caught staring. Okay, so, there he was. All he'd have to do is get up, walk over and ask to talk to him - alone.
Kurt shifted to his feet, abandoning his food at the table and making a beeline straight for Quentin, murmuring nonsensically under his breath. What if he caused problems by doing this? He paused mid-step at the thought, thankfully avoiding his own collision when he tunes back in. If he continues to do that, he'll definitely end up making a scene. A swift twist of his body allows his fellow student to brush past him and he returns to walking, determination bubbling hot in his chest and once he's close enough--]
[Kurt manages to, apparently, catch the telepath off guard, which says something about Quentin's current mental state. He'd been lost in his own thoughts, appearing to be about as interested in the food in front of him as Kurt was.
Quentin stiffened in surprise, sitting up a little straighter before immediately forcing himself to appear as relaxed as possible.]
[ In all the time that he and Kurt have known each other, Matthew's never texted him after midnight. He's a boy with an irregular family but a very regular sleeping schedule, one that sees him sprawled his bed and deep asleep well before the wee morning hours. So when Matthew texts Kurt at 3:40am-- ]
can u come over when u get this?
[ --it can only mean that something very abnormal has occurred.
In this case, Matthew almost died. Less than six hours ago, in fact, on the floor of Declan's Alexandria apartment. As much as he wants to sleep, to forget about it for a while, he can all but hear the demon's voice buzzing in his head, and feel the black void of nothingness eating away at him, taking him apart, trying to break him down into non-existence. A shudder courses through him at the memory. Sleep is impossible. He stares at the screen of his phone and hugs his knees closer to his chest in the darkness of his new bedroom, uncertain but hoping that maybe Kurt is awake for some reason, that he'll be free to show up, to talk, to just-- be here. ]
[Twenty minutes 'til four is when he receives the text, one sleep-heavy iridescent eye cracking open to look at the screen lighting up on his nightstand. He doesn't get many late night texts, so he figures it would be in his best interest to check it. With a huff, he reaches to grab the device and drags it over, briefly squinting at the screen before his eyes widen in bewilderment at the name: Matthew and the text: 'can u come over when u get this?'
Kurt doesn't hesitate to leap out of his bed, grabbing up the closest thing he has for a jacket and rushing toward the door, rousing his roommate in the process. Thankfully, Peter is drowsy enough for him to ask, plead, beg for him to cover up his disappearance if he doesn't show back up before sunrise. The speedster agrees, drops back down with a disgruntled noise and is out like a light, leaving him with the reassurance that he won't be in too much trouble, should they find him missing.
As he's rushing down the stairs, he yanks the hoodie into place over his pajamas and quickly pops a text back:] i'm on my way it may take me a little bit do you want me to call?
[Then, before he can even make it out of the foyer of the mansion, Kurt is teleporting as fast and as far as he can manage, his mind set on one thing-- getting to Matthew.]
[ Matthew all but leans into his phone when the screen lights up with Kurt's first text, exhaling softly. Maybe it's selfish, but he's relieved, grateful. Kurt's on his way. And then Matthew gets the last message-- do you want me to call?
He's not sure. He thinks about trying to explain this over the phone, trying to tell Kurt what happened and, well, everything else without actually seeing him. Something like anxiety curls through Matthew's stomach, a very uncharacteristic sensation for him. He doesn't enjoy it, and he doesn't know what to do with it either, except try to pretend it's not there. ]
no its fine see you soon
[ He chews on his lower lip for a second before adding: ] sorry its so late some stuff happened
It's his turn to sleep, but Kurt can't seem to keep his eyes closed for longer than fifteen minutes at a time. They'd discovered earlier that his cast would be removed and he was allowed to walk again, which gave them some semblance of freedom.
Throk being out of the room for the night helped reassure his excitement that they could rest easy for now.
Stretching out along the length of his bedroll, the cobalt-skinned boy reaches with fingers and toes then bends his legs, wrapping both arms around his knees with a content sounding huff. "It feels fantastic to be able to do that," he admits, rolling onto his side to face Billy with a lopsided grin on his face and his chin in his palm. "Sorry. Having trouble sleeping, I guess."
His head absently tilts as he watches his companion, an eyebrow lifted with inquisitiveness. "I hope I'm not prying by asking this, but why does Throk have to administer that medicine to you? I mean," a pause, a brief wrinkle of the nose then he shakes his head. "What sort of powers is he trying to prevent you from using?"
He can't blame him for not sleeping, but Billy still gives him a briefly chiding look. Who knew how long Throk would be gone? If Kurt didn't sleep now he might not get the chance. The look doesn't last long though, and Billy smiles, shifting and turning to face Kurt properly.
"Is it feeling okay?" he asks quietly, still worried that all of Throk's playing means the bone won't have healed right.
He shakes off Kurt's worry. "No, it's- it's fine. Mm, to suppress my magic. Sort of like the druids. I can make stuff happen. Anything I want. So...obviously they don't want me using that."
The scolding look he's being given makes him shrug, though his grin only broadens at Billy's return of the untroubled gesture. He's happy to see his companion smile through the torture they regularly receive and once again, he prays that Throk won't come back anytime soon.
"A little stiff," Kurt acknowledges, "but that should go away after a few days. I'm surprised it didn't re-break with all the extra abuse."
He rolls up onto his elbows then straightens completely, twitching the end of his tail back and forth with excitement. "Anything you want, hm? I suppose that is a power a captor wouldn't want someone to be able to use. If there was a way to keep them from dosing you, we'd be able to get out of here pretty easily."
[These school 'breaks' are still somewhat new to him, taking into account that he hasn't been at Xavier's all that long. He has to admit, though, getting to look away from books for a decent period of time feels good after all the studying that's been coupled with their training.
Jubilee's already planned a girl's night for herself, Jean and Ororo, Peter's off to visit his mom, and surely, Scott has arrangements with one of the other students-- at least, he feels like it's safe to assume that. Then again, what if he isn't busy? Making plans is still something he seems to struggle with, regardless of friends telling him that hanging out with a blue guy is rad; the compliment never ceases to amuse him. (Or fluster him, for that matter.)
It takes until they're released from their last class for him to gather the courage, but they exit and Kurt wastes no time darting between other mutants.
As soon as he spots him, Kurt inhales a breath, holds it, then raises a hand to wave down the other teen.] Scott, hey! [he beckons, hoping not to sound overzealous.]
[Overzealous is how some might describe Kurt. But it's not how Scott would describe his rad blue friend. To be honest, it's hard to put any single word to how he views him, because Scott knows Kurt a little better now and the initial impression he had of his eagerness to hang out has faded to seeing it more as something casual and expected. That's all there is to it.
In fact, he wasn't really thinking that far ahead with what he was doing to do over the break. He couldn't go home. Well, not really. He, as much as his parents, was grieving over the loss his brother. And he still didn't know how to face them when...he thought he would have, should have, maybe even could have done something to change the outcome. That level of guilt hadn't completely left him yet.
He was feeling a little out of it coming out of the classroom when the last bell rang, probably looking like it too but maybe not. His sunglasses hid his eyes the same way they did every other day. Scott only snaps out of it when the red he typically sees of everything finds Kurt in his sights and melds blue and red together to something very purple. He's never told anyone that, but it's why it's easy for him to spy Kurt a mile away.
Scott cracks a smile, try hard as it may be deep down, tucks his books under an arm so he can wave back.]
[Something urges him to reconsider this plan. Perhaps, it's the way Scott is carrying himself as he exits the classroom, looking perturbed for some reason or another. Kurt never wants to assume he knows what's going on with his friends; he'd prefer to ask upfront, instead of beating around the bush, but Scott's demeanor makes him far too precarious for his own good.
There's a split second where he pauses, though it doesn't take him long to regather his courage and pick up the pace, lowering his hand once he's close enough for them to talk without having to shout.]
Not really. I mean, aside from being excited for break! [If the lilt in his voice says anything.] Do you— uhm. Are you planning anything special for this week?
[He'd like to go back to Germany, maybe take a chance at hunting down his family, but that simply isn't logical at this point in time. That, and staying at the school seems like it'll be quiet enough, they could call it an actual vacation.]
[Everything that had led up to this point felt like Kurt's fault. The Professor and Mystique told him otherwise, but the whole reason Peter'd gotten caught was because of the boy blue's mishap-- his inability to give correct directions, despite the jam in their communicators.
Hank eased his conscious by reminding him it wasn't his fault the trackers on their suits had malfunctioned, led the enemy right to them before he could give a proper warning. Still, volunteering to break in and get the speedster out was the right thing to do. That, and he's almost positive that he is the only one with the mutation to do so.
The building is guarded (not as much as it probably should be) and it's dark, so using his lesser honed skill of shadow-blending will certainly be different; a task that he's all too willing to take on.
Slithering past the first set of guards with his wallcrawling technique seems like a piece of cake, but as he approaches the next room, he immediately understands why: more watchmen, at least half a dozen that he's either going to have to take out single-handedly or attempt to find another way around. Unfortunately, the former is turning out to be the most likely scenario and if that's so, it'll take him more than just a few minutes.
For both the sake of the guardsman and Peter, he hopes he can handle everything within twenty.]
[ Getting kidnapped? Probably up there in the suckiest things that have ever happened to Peter. Also up there is his mother eating the last slice of pizza that he was saving in the middle of the night. The betrayal he'd felt that morning with no cold, leftover cheesy goodness to enjoy for breakfast is something he won't soon forget. He actually has to contemplate for a moment which is worse, but-
Yeah. Definitely being kidnapped. Caught. Same difference. It's so boring. Peter zips to and fro in his confines and Kurt might be able to hear him occasionally over the live feed they've got on him. ] Hey, did you guys know there is an odd number of dots on these ceiling tiles? That's going to bug me.
[ Nyoom. Up close and personal to the camera now, peering into it. ] Are you guys even listening? I feel like I'm talking to myself lately.
[ Haha. Ha. Get it? Because he is. It's a wonder how half the watch hasn't gone insane listening to him prattle on. There's probably been talk of finding a way to get him to stop, but- It's also probably too risky to open the way to where they're keeping him. He's a speedster, after all. The first opportunity he'd get he'd be zooming out of there. ]
[Actually, being able to hear Peter thanks to his enhanced senses is great. He can gauge where they're keeping the other mutant, continuing using his voice and the occasional glance into a room at the camera feeds to slink along the ceiling unnoticed.
That brief moment where the speedster blurs into view, face practically against the camera, earns the shortest huff of his life before his hand is flying up to cup around his mouth. He presses his belly flat to the surface, frantic eyes darting around the spanse of the hall, trying to track any movement from the corridors opposite the one he's in.]
Whew, [he breathes, relaxing from the hunched position.
He's finally coming upon the designated room, where he'll be able to use the device Beast had given him to scramble the cameras. Much to his dismay, it's also where those guards are at, so he'll have to work quickly.
Balancing on his fingertips and toes, Nightcrawler drops silently to the floor below, pokes just enough of his head up so he can peer into the window.] Perfect. [A well-timed bamf deposits him behind the first guard where he drops a limb into the side of the man's neck, a sharp, knife-handed crack that gives him the split second hesitation he needs to loop his tail around this sentry's waist and toss him aside like a ragdoll.
Two more approach, attempting to flank him, lunging forward with oversized taser rods. He drops onto an elbow, raises his other hand and the spade of his tail to grasp the weapons, guide them straight into the guards' armor-plating. What a productive (and conductive) way to be rid of two attackers.
Rolling onto his front, he leaps to his feet with ease, glancing warily between the remainder of enemies, who've drawn their convenient little handguns. He's faster than gunfire, but part of him is hesitant, the thought of having to kill them — even if it's some advantageously positioned teleporting — makes his stomach lurch.]
Don't hit anything vital! [Is all Kurt needs to hear; they've made the decision for him. Ear-splitting cracks of gunfire pop off along with the noise of air rushing to fill the spaces he begins to leap between.
If he's lucky, they will run out of ammo before he has to take drastic measures or be mindful of the exhaustion that could set in with such rapid displacements.]
[Through the first two days of Christmas vacation, Kurt putters away most of his time with the image inducer, given to him by Hank as a gift. Something to try out, his fellow blue mutant had told him. When he finally decides on the perfect disguise (because that's technically what it is) seems like happenstance the time he decides to call Matthew up.
The pale boy looking back at him in the mirror waits patiently, pastel green eyes blinking with curiosity before flashing to a deep blue. Yellow to red is what his normal eyes had done behind the camouflage, though. There were so many fine details he'd tweaked on this thing; it's extraordinary for him to imagine what else it could do.]
Pick up, please, [he urges gently into the receiver.
He's done his best to contain the excitement, but he can no longer resist telling someone-- especially one of the people that's most important to him.]
[ Matthew just barely catches the call before the end of his Iglu & Hartly ringtone, scrambling to get the phone to his ear. ]
Hey! Kurt!
[ He's a little out of breath, but sounds perfectly cheerful as always. In the background, Kurt can probably hear a bunch of other male voices joking around and hollering, and the sound of skates scraping across ice. Hey Lynch, get back here!, one of the other boys yells good-naturedly. ]
It's cool, keep playing! [ Matthew shouts back, fortunately remembering to cover the phone with his hand first. And then he's back, smiling into the phone. ]
Ach, Matthew! [Kurt can't keep the excitement from his voice.
At least, when he breathes a sigh of relief, it's perfectly timed-- right when Matthew cups the phone and turns to shout at his friends. He can hear them all quite clearly, actually, considering the inducer doesn't hinder any of his natural mutant enhancements, which makes him cup a hand around his face to stifle his laughter.
The darker-haired teen doesn't need to see Matthew to know that he's grinning, though. That makes his own lips quirk.]
It's okay, [he reassures.] Well, I was going to ask if you were busy, but from the sound of it ...
[Back in Germany, the first snowfall of the year might have been different in a location like the fight club. There's a minute where he silently thanks Raven again for the rescue, bringing him to this school where he's met so many others like himself.
He holds out a tri-fingered hand, watches tiny snowflakes drift softly into his palm. Steam curls out past his blue lips, floating off into the darkness of the night outside the campus. As much as he'd like to go into town and view the lights or bob and weave between strangers to find that perfect gift, he's aware that might not be the best idea with the snowfall beginning to quicken its pace.
So, instead, Kurt pivots on his heel, rubbing his shoulders for warmth as he heads back inside. He starts down the hall toward the kitchen, only hesitating when he spots Eddie from his peripheral. Immediately, his mood perks, posture straightening and tail flicking with excitement.]
Eddie! [the blue boy calls out, bamfing over to his friend, falling into step beside him.] What are you up to? [A grin.] Have any important plans?
(Getting out of Derry, Maine had been one of the better things that had happened in Eddie's life. He doesn't talk too much about his past. Never had even when he showed up as a shaking thirteen-year old in a cast, and still didn't years later. He didn't talk about Derry, and he didn't talk about his powers if it could be helped.
The one thing he was glad for was the fact that the people here were kind. Not all of them, maybe, but he had made more friends here than he ever thought previously capable of.
Eddie was heading to his room. Not to sleep, but to lay down for a while and maybe listen to some music. His fingers were idly trailing over the molding on the walls, something he's done since he first showed up. Hearing his name from Kurt has Eddie stopping, looking over.
Not a second later, and Kurt was in front of him. Eddie can't help but grin, hand curling and pulling away from the wall.)
Hi Kurt. (He looks down the hall, before looking back to Kurt.) Uhhhh nope. Pretty much was just going to go to my room and stare at my ceiling until I fell asleep.
[One day soon, when he has the courage to do so, he'll inquire about Eddie's hometown, maybe learn more about why he never talked about it. Until then, Kurt is more than happy with distracting the other male from his peculiar form of willing himself to sleep. Although, to be fair, he's done that a time or two. And has hung upside down, too, so who's he to judge?
He watches Eddie's hand slide off the wall, tips his head to the side, iridescent eyes radiating curiosity.]
Sounds like a blast, [he comments. Regardless of the giggle that follows, he genuinely means that.]
Well, I was thinking about going to the kitchen for some hot chocolate.
[His tail lashes again.] With marshmallows, of course. [He reaches an arm out, gingerly loops it around Eddie's shoulders and draws him in.] Care to join me?
wow, okay, that wasn't what i had in mind, but you do you, i suppose? stealing is definitely not in my repertoire.
[...that isn't quite the magic he had in mind, but it's fine.]
and they shouldn't have to, really.
uhm, none of those? i use my words, unless it comes to blows. which i usually avoid, too, but there have been times. i won't get into them, though, or we'd be here a while.
[he's not exactly following, but does it count if it's happened before they met?]
spooky high? never heard of it. the school i go to is xavier's school for gifted youngsters. ten am on a weekend, then. how about this coming one?
i mean, i wouldn't say no to twister, but are you flexible? if you aren't, i feel like the game won't be all that fair.
Betcha you've done it in the past. Everyone's stolen something before. It's in our fucking nature. Whether we want to or not.
[Call it personal bias. Or because he's a demon.]
That's exactly what they said! "We shouldn't have to." Yeah yeah, I guess not. But then I shouldn't have to do what they want either! Jeeze!
Words huh? Those can be good too! Specially if you paint the words on bricks and pitch the bricks into their faces! Sometimes the other person's just asking for a fight, and I can be generous.
[Yeah not in the way Kurt's talking about. Obviously.]
Nah, you can get into them if you want. I love good fights! Even stories!
[Again, obviously.]
Xavier's School? Nope, not ringing a bell, but "gifted youngsters" sounds like flattery or a fucking cover up.
10am this weekend sounds good!
And I can suck my own dick comfortably. How's that for fair?
gosh, i don't know... maybe i've stolen a cookie from the pan once? other than that, i'm not one to take things that don't belong to me.
respecting your parents is important, you know? they kind of raised you and dealt with all the problems that you might cause. of course (as long as i'm not assuming too much), you seem like the more rebellious type.
that's uhm not what i was talking about, but sure, i guess that would be an effective way to get your point across.
[he won't judge, since it's not his place. this sounds like it could be a really bad idea, though.]
someone pulled my tail once and it didn't end well for them. it wasn't just a little tug, either. they tried to yank it out of my spine! so, i blacked his eye. ╮(︶▽︶)╭
"gifted youngsters" sounds better than "mutant school," wouldn't you agree? that would kind of leave us with a huge target and we already have enough trouble as it is.
excellent! and wow, that would definitely make it fair, yeah.
[to be honest, kurt could, too, but he has never tried and wouldn't admit it if he had.]
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houseofsushi2017-03-26 06:56 pm
that awkward morning after [@futurephoenix]
He drew one hand up to his head, scrubbing over his face then lingering to absently rub his right temple, the hazy memories of the night before slowly coming back. Wait, had he and Quentin actually--? Being naked didn't necessarily mean sex had happened, though he scrambled to his feet anyway, clutching the sheet around his waist while hunting for the nearest thing he could use to check himself out, which just so happened to be the window. He stopped halfway past it, turned to face his reflection and slapped a hand over his mouth.
Holy shit.
The sides of his neck, down to his collarbone are littered with small bite-marks and bruises, things that had obviously been made by another person. He sunk his teeth into his knuckle then tossed his cover back onto the bed, rushing around to gather his discarded clothes to get re-dressed. He was a bit achy and wanted a shower, but after sneaking a peek at his phone, the display reminded him that it's lunchtime and that sounds a little more satisfying to him.
So, with his leggings and pullover back in place, he yanked the hood over his head (a poor attempt at hiding his mottled neck) and hurried his way down to the dining hall to collect food. Something simple such as fruit and yogurt with granola, considering the slight queasiness he'd been feeling. He spared a glance around the hall after getting in, chewing at his lower lip in an almost frantic manner before moving to drop himself into a seat where there were far less people than normal.
He hadn't spotted the telepath, except maybe - just maybe - that was a good thing, for the moment.]
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They'd had a bit of wine, but he hadn't been drunk. Far from it. He remembered everything. Kissing had led to making out had led to... biting. They'd 'hooked up'. At least, Quentin considered a mix of jerking each other off and sort of-half oral as hooking up.
He could've easily covered up the bruises and bitemarks with telepathy, but he hadn't. His friends had asked him what had happened and he'd just smirked in response, but skirted the questions. By lunchtime, the rumors had taken on a life of their own.
Actually seeing Kurt in the lunchroom made his devil may care attitude waver slightly. He stopped without warning, getting run into by another student who'd been walking along behind him, causing a tiny scene that Quentin hurried away from, head ducked. He quickly grabbed some food and took a seat at an empty table, avoiding eye contact.]
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Kurt's more in luck than he'd assumed because people come to sit with him and when he glances up from beneath his hood, eyes bloodshot and a frown creasing his features, it must be enough to clue them in on his currently dour mood. He shrugs when questioned, but they move along, leaving him to stew in his thoughts.
After this, he could go and search Quentin out, see about getting some clearer answers about last night. He'd drank more than he anticipated and while he hadn't been completely gone, there are a few things that continue to gnaw at his conscious. Mostly, the insatiable curiosity is spurred by his need to know how far he and the other mutant had gone, since he can't seem to remember.
The commotion caused by Quentin and another student make him look up from where he's dragging a spoon through the yogurt mixture, iridescent eyes broadening at the sight of the pink-haired male. He turned away as quickly as he could manage, focusing his attention on the table in hopes that he hadn't been caught staring. Okay, so, there he was. All he'd have to do is get up, walk over and ask to talk to him - alone.
Kurt shifted to his feet, abandoning his food at the table and making a beeline straight for Quentin, murmuring nonsensically under his breath. What if he caused problems by doing this? He paused mid-step at the thought, thankfully avoiding his own collision when he tunes back in. If he continues to do that, he'll definitely end up making a scene. A swift twist of his body allows his fellow student to brush past him and he returns to walking, determination bubbling hot in his chest and once he's close enough--]
... Quentin.
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Quentin stiffened in surprise, sitting up a little straighter before immediately forcing himself to appear as relaxed as possible.]
Hey, what's up? [Cool as a freaking cucumber.]
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[sorry this took me so long!]
no, no, it's okay!! you've been busy <3
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jeebus i'm sorry this took so long ;w;
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can u come over when u get this?
[ --it can only mean that something very abnormal has occurred.
In this case, Matthew almost died. Less than six hours ago, in fact, on the floor of Declan's Alexandria apartment. As much as he wants to sleep, to forget about it for a while, he can all but hear the demon's voice buzzing in his head, and feel the black void of nothingness eating away at him, taking him apart, trying to break him down into non-existence. A shudder courses through him at the memory. Sleep is impossible. He stares at the screen of his phone and hugs his knees closer to his chest in the darkness of his new bedroom, uncertain but hoping that maybe Kurt is awake for some reason, that he'll be free to show up, to talk, to just-- be here. ]
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Kurt doesn't hesitate to leap out of his bed, grabbing up the closest thing he has for a jacket and rushing toward the door, rousing his roommate in the process. Thankfully, Peter is drowsy enough for him to ask, plead, beg for him to cover up his disappearance if he doesn't show back up before sunrise. The speedster agrees, drops back down with a disgruntled noise and is out like a light, leaving him with the reassurance that he won't be in too much trouble, should they find him missing.
As he's rushing down the stairs, he yanks the hoodie into place over his pajamas and quickly pops a text back:] i'm on my way
it may take me a little bit
do you want me to call?
[Then, before he can even make it out of the foyer of the mansion, Kurt is teleporting as fast and as far as he can manage, his mind set on one thing-- getting to Matthew.]
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He's not sure. He thinks about trying to explain this over the phone, trying to tell Kurt what happened and, well, everything else without actually seeing him. Something like anxiety curls through Matthew's stomach, a very uncharacteristic sensation for him. He doesn't enjoy it, and he doesn't know what to do with it either, except try to pretend it's not there. ]
no its fine
see you soon
[ He chews on his lower lip for a second before adding: ] sorry its so late
some stuff happened
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a little bonding time [@crimsonwiccan]
Throk being out of the room for the night helped reassure his excitement that they could rest easy for now.
Stretching out along the length of his bedroll, the cobalt-skinned boy reaches with fingers and toes then bends his legs, wrapping both arms around his knees with a content sounding huff. "It feels fantastic to be able to do that," he admits, rolling onto his side to face Billy with a lopsided grin on his face and his chin in his palm. "Sorry. Having trouble sleeping, I guess."
His head absently tilts as he watches his companion, an eyebrow lifted with inquisitiveness. "I hope I'm not prying by asking this, but why does Throk have to administer that medicine to you? I mean," a pause, a brief wrinkle of the nose then he shakes his head. "What sort of powers is he trying to prevent you from using?"
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"Is it feeling okay?" he asks quietly, still worried that all of Throk's playing means the bone won't have healed right.
He shakes off Kurt's worry. "No, it's- it's fine. Mm, to suppress my magic. Sort of like the druids. I can make stuff happen. Anything I want. So...obviously they don't want me using that."
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"A little stiff," Kurt acknowledges, "but that should go away after a few days. I'm surprised it didn't re-break with all the extra abuse."
He rolls up onto his elbows then straightens completely, twitching the end of his tail back and forth with excitement. "Anything you want, hm? I suppose that is a power a captor wouldn't want someone to be able to use. If there was a way to keep them from dosing you, we'd be able to get out of here pretty easily."
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pieces of memories fall to the ground [@concussives]
Jubilee's already planned a girl's night for herself, Jean and Ororo, Peter's off to visit his mom, and surely, Scott has arrangements with one of the other students-- at least, he feels like it's safe to assume that. Then again, what if he isn't busy? Making plans is still something he seems to struggle with, regardless of friends telling him that hanging out with a blue guy is rad; the compliment never ceases to amuse him. (Or fluster him, for that matter.)
It takes until they're released from their last class for him to gather the courage, but they exit and Kurt wastes no time darting between other mutants.
As soon as he spots him, Kurt inhales a breath, holds it, then raises a hand to wave down the other teen.] Scott, hey! [he beckons, hoping not to sound overzealous.]
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In fact, he wasn't really thinking that far ahead with what he was doing to do over the break. He couldn't go home. Well, not really. He, as much as his parents, was grieving over the loss his brother. And he still didn't know how to face them when...he thought he would have, should have, maybe even could have done something to change the outcome. That level of guilt hadn't completely left him yet.
He was feeling a little out of it coming out of the classroom when the last bell rang, probably looking like it too but maybe not. His sunglasses hid his eyes the same way they did every other day. Scott only snaps out of it when the red he typically sees of everything finds Kurt in his sights and melds blue and red together to something very purple. He's never told anyone that, but it's why it's easy for him to spy Kurt a mile away.
Scott cracks a smile, try hard as it may be deep down, tucks his books under an arm so he can wave back.]
Kurt, hey! Something up?
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There's a split second where he pauses, though it doesn't take him long to regather his courage and pick up the pace, lowering his hand once he's close enough for them to talk without having to shout.]
Not really. I mean, aside from being excited for break! [If the lilt in his voice says anything.] Do you— uhm. Are you planning anything special for this week?
[He'd like to go back to Germany, maybe take a chance at hunting down his family, but that simply isn't logical at this point in time. That, and staying at the school seems like it'll be quiet enough, they could call it an actual vacation.]
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eat your heart out then seal it with a kiss; [@maximumtakeoff]
Hank eased his conscious by reminding him it wasn't his fault the trackers on their suits had malfunctioned, led the enemy right to them before he could give a proper warning. Still, volunteering to break in and get the speedster out was the right thing to do. That, and he's almost positive that he is the only one with the mutation to do so.
The building is guarded (not as much as it probably should be) and it's dark, so using his lesser honed skill of shadow-blending will certainly be different; a task that he's all too willing to take on.
Slithering past the first set of guards with his wallcrawling technique seems like a piece of cake, but as he approaches the next room, he immediately understands why: more watchmen, at least half a dozen that he's either going to have to take out single-handedly or attempt to find another way around. Unfortunately, the former is turning out to be the most likely scenario and if that's so, it'll take him more than just a few minutes.
For both the sake of the guardsman and Peter, he hopes he can handle everything within twenty.]
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Yeah. Definitely being kidnapped. Caught. Same difference. It's so boring. Peter zips to and fro in his confines and Kurt might be able to hear him occasionally over the live feed they've got on him. ] Hey, did you guys know there is an odd number of dots on these ceiling tiles? That's going to bug me.
[ Nyoom. Up close and personal to the camera now, peering into it. ] Are you guys even listening? I feel like I'm talking to myself lately.
[ Haha. Ha. Get it? Because he is. It's a wonder how half the watch hasn't gone insane listening to him prattle on. There's probably been talk of finding a way to get him to stop, but- It's also probably too risky to open the way to where they're keeping him. He's a speedster, after all. The first opportunity he'd get he'd be zooming out of there. ]
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That brief moment where the speedster blurs into view, face practically against the camera, earns the shortest huff of his life before his hand is flying up to cup around his mouth. He presses his belly flat to the surface, frantic eyes darting around the spanse of the hall, trying to track any movement from the corridors opposite the one he's in.]
Whew, [he breathes, relaxing from the hunched position.
He's finally coming upon the designated room, where he'll be able to use the device Beast had given him to scramble the cameras. Much to his dismay, it's also where those guards are at, so he'll have to work quickly.
Balancing on his fingertips and toes, Nightcrawler drops silently to the floor below, pokes just enough of his head up so he can peer into the window.] Perfect. [A well-timed bamf deposits him behind the first guard where he drops a limb into the side of the man's neck, a sharp, knife-handed crack that gives him the split second hesitation he needs to loop his tail around this sentry's waist and toss him aside like a ragdoll.
Two more approach, attempting to flank him, lunging forward with oversized taser rods. He drops onto an elbow, raises his other hand and the spade of his tail to grasp the weapons, guide them straight into the guards' armor-plating. What a productive (and conductive) way to be rid of two attackers.
Rolling onto his front, he leaps to his feet with ease, glancing warily between the remainder of enemies, who've drawn their convenient little handguns. He's faster than gunfire, but part of him is hesitant, the thought of having to kill them — even if it's some advantageously positioned teleporting — makes his stomach lurch.]
Don't hit anything vital! [Is all Kurt needs to hear; they've made the decision for him. Ear-splitting cracks of gunfire pop off along with the noise of air rushing to fill the spaces he begins to leap between.
If he's lucky, they will run out of ammo before he has to take drastic measures or be mindful of the exhaustion that could set in with such rapid displacements.]
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&fade as discussed!!!
an angel has smiled at me, kissed my cheek without a trace of fright [@dreamkid]
The pale boy looking back at him in the mirror waits patiently, pastel green eyes blinking with curiosity before flashing to a deep blue. Yellow to red is what his normal eyes had done behind the camouflage, though. There were so many fine details he'd tweaked on this thing; it's extraordinary for him to imagine what else it could do.]
Pick up, please, [he urges gently into the receiver.
He's done his best to contain the excitement, but he can no longer resist telling someone-- especially one of the people that's most important to him.]
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Hey! Kurt!
[ He's a little out of breath, but sounds perfectly cheerful as always. In the background, Kurt can probably hear a bunch of other male voices joking around and hollering, and the sound of skates scraping across ice. Hey Lynch, get back here!, one of the other boys yells good-naturedly. ]
It's cool, keep playing! [ Matthew shouts back, fortunately remembering to cover the phone with his hand first. And then he's back, smiling into the phone. ]
Sorry about that. What's up?
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At least, when he breathes a sigh of relief, it's perfectly timed-- right when Matthew cups the phone and turns to shout at his friends. He can hear them all quite clearly, actually, considering the inducer doesn't hinder any of his natural mutant enhancements, which makes him cup a hand around his face to stifle his laughter.
The darker-haired teen doesn't need to see Matthew to know that he's grinning, though. That makes his own lips quirk.]
It's okay, [he reassures.] Well, I was going to ask if you were busy, but from the sound of it ...
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be still and know that i'm with you; [@losvers]
He holds out a tri-fingered hand, watches tiny snowflakes drift softly into his palm. Steam curls out past his blue lips, floating off into the darkness of the night outside the campus. As much as he'd like to go into town and view the lights or bob and weave between strangers to find that perfect gift, he's aware that might not be the best idea with the snowfall beginning to quicken its pace.
So, instead, Kurt pivots on his heel, rubbing his shoulders for warmth as he heads back inside. He starts down the hall toward the kitchen, only hesitating when he spots Eddie from his peripheral. Immediately, his mood perks, posture straightening and tail flicking with excitement.]
Eddie! [the blue boy calls out, bamfing over to his friend, falling into step beside him.] What are you up to? [A grin.] Have any important plans?
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The one thing he was glad for was the fact that the people here were kind. Not all of them, maybe, but he had made more friends here than he ever thought previously capable of.
Eddie was heading to his room. Not to sleep, but to lay down for a while and maybe listen to some music. His fingers were idly trailing over the molding on the walls, something he's done since he first showed up. Hearing his name from Kurt has Eddie stopping, looking over.
Not a second later, and Kurt was in front of him. Eddie can't help but grin, hand curling and pulling away from the wall.)
Hi Kurt. (He looks down the hall, before looking back to Kurt.) Uhhhh nope. Pretty much was just going to go to my room and stare at my ceiling until I fell asleep.
(Riveting, he knows.)
Why? You got something exciting going on?
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He watches Eddie's hand slide off the wall, tips his head to the side, iridescent eyes radiating curiosity.]
Sounds like a blast, [he comments. Regardless of the giggle that follows, he genuinely means that.]
Well, I was thinking about going to the kitchen for some hot chocolate.
[His tail lashes again.] With marshmallows, of course. [He reaches an arm out, gingerly loops it around Eddie's shoulders and draws him in.] Care to join me?
and everything burns; [@fuckingburned]
wow, okay, that wasn't what i had in mind, but you do you, i suppose?
stealing is definitely not in my repertoire.
[...that isn't quite the magic he had in mind, but it's fine.]
and they shouldn't have to, really.
uhm, none of those? i use my words, unless it comes to blows.
which i usually avoid, too, but there have been times.
i won't get into them, though, or we'd be here a while.
[he's not exactly following, but does it count if it's happened before they met?]
spooky high? never heard of it. the school i go to is xavier's school for gifted youngsters.
ten am on a weekend, then. how about this coming one?
i mean, i wouldn't say no to twister, but are you flexible? if you aren't, i feel like the game won't be all that fair.
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[Call it personal bias. Or because he's a demon.]
That's exactly what they said! "We shouldn't have to." Yeah yeah, I guess not. But then I shouldn't have to do what they want either! Jeeze!
Words huh? Those can be good too! Specially if you paint the words on bricks and pitch the bricks into their faces! Sometimes the other person's just asking for a fight, and I can be generous.
[Yeah not in the way Kurt's talking about. Obviously.]
Nah, you can get into them if you want. I love good fights! Even stories!
[Again, obviously.]
Xavier's School? Nope, not ringing a bell, but "gifted youngsters" sounds like flattery or a fucking cover up.
10am this weekend sounds good!
And I can suck my own dick comfortably. How's that for fair?
[He is amazingly unapologetic.]
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other than that, i'm not one to take things that don't belong to me.
respecting your parents is important, you know?
they kind of raised you and dealt with all the problems that you might cause.
of course (as long as i'm not assuming too much), you seem like the more rebellious type.
that's uhm
not what i was talking about, but sure, i guess that would be an effective way to get your point across.
[he won't judge, since it's not his place. this sounds like it could be a really bad idea, though.]
someone pulled my tail once and it didn't end well for them.
it wasn't just a little tug, either. they tried to yank it out of my spine!
so, i blacked his eye. ╮(︶▽︶)╭
"gifted youngsters" sounds better than "mutant school," wouldn't you agree?
that would kind of leave us with a huge target and we already have enough trouble as it is.
excellent! and wow, that would definitely make it fair, yeah.
[to be honest, kurt could, too, but he has never tried and wouldn't admit it if he had.]
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