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| walk this line; [terry] | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 24 2010, 09:00 PM (375 Views) | |
| Hellion(old) | Apr 24 2010, 09:00 PM Post #1 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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Time of Day: 18:40 Place in Timeline: March 17th; immediately following Badass Macaroons Julian’s head hurt, one of those incessant niggling sensations jamming at his temple, all sharp twinges and irritating peaks of white-hot noise, the kind aggravated by whiny sounds. Terry had a voice like a sack full of massive mosquitoes. He barely understood a word she said, and when he did wished he couldn’t. This helping needy students thing was starting to get old. They stood beneath the tall block of offices, Cassidy’s one of the griddled windows up there. Julian craned his neck back, shielding his eyes from the sun with his arm. It wasn’t warm today, but the sky was sharp and slush-thick and intense where it split past clouds that hung heavy like sacs of ichor, yellow and lined with grey. Despite his sunglasses he kept that arm bent across his forehead, his face all cast in shadow and pulled into a grimace, one of those silent snarls you’d get when staring up. “I guess it’s either Cassidy’s or Van Leerson’s…” He’d never had a reason to need to guess whose was whose from the outside before. Out here they all looked the same, tangled with ivy and dull on the inside, everything outside reflected on those old glass panels as distorted caricatures. “That one or the one over.” He shrugged, motion lazy and apathetic. “I don’t know which.” |
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| Siryn | Apr 28 2010, 04:58 PM Post #2 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Standing with her hands planted on her hips, the fiery redhead stared up at where the cocky American git was looking up at; the office windows staring down at the duo reproachfully, as if they knew what scheme was at hand. Cocking her head to one side, Terry looked up at them, rather unimpressed and gestured limply to the one on the left after a few moments of contemplation. “That one. Guess if we get it wrong we’ll know for next time. There’ll still be booze regardless, yeah?” the girl shrugged her slender shoulders a touch, not really caring how he took to the potential news that they might well be doing this again if they did not hit their – her – desired target. Glancing behind her, Terry scoped out the grounds surrounding them, trying to see if there were any unwanted, watchful little eyes staring out at them on the verge of breaking into the offices. Considering why she was there, things couldn’t get any worse but not getting caught would just make life that little easier as she could really do with a bottle of brandy or something after the revelations she had had that past hour. “Right, so how are we going ter do this, then? You said you fly, right?” she turned her sea-green eyes on the older lad critically and waited for a response. Under normal circumstances, she could take to the air under her own power, but it was bloody noisy and not something that allowed her a great deal of stealth…Maybe that’d be one of the perks of being here, learning some nice new tricks with her powers that she could use when out and about in the real world once more. Pushing the sleeves of her hooded top up to her elbows, Terry set her eyes on the office windows once more. “Alright, ready when you are I guess…” she nodded, attention on those windows above them. |
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| Hellion(old) | May 8 2010, 01:33 PM Post #3 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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“Something like that,” he replied, droll, passé, as if he was talking about laundry, the weather forecast, last week’s fashion failures; a thing bourgeois and commonplace. Sometimes, he was so modest it hurt. “It’s classified as ‘levitating’.” His fingers made quotation marks in the air. “So I’m told. They like their semantic dichotomy. Their science crap.” TK 101: you did not fly under the propulsion of your supernal abilities. It was always some thesaurus-barfed terminology. Manoeuvre. Aviate. Navigate. Levitate. Never fly. Nothing so ordinary as what it was that birds did. Julian supposed scientists hated mutants like Worthington and the Guthrie kid. With those ridiculous wings they could only ever call it flying. He rose a couple of feet into the air, suspended in nothing, aura invisible against all that verdant landscaping. Transparent emerald on lime was too subtle in tone to distinguish. He thought about dangling her from telekinetic strings like some oversized marionette and swallowed a snort as it lurched into his throat. There was always the platform option, a solid sheet of energy she could stand on, buoyed up on his quasi elevator. “Either way, if we get caught I’m blaming you.” Julian stuck his hand out, deadpan, brows creeping towards his hairline. And then she was all up next to him, skinny arm slung around his neck, close enough to tell which brand of toothpaste she used. What her favourite shampoo was. Whatever it was, it was cheap. Her hair was a red explosion, all tangled and wiry in his face, tickling his neck. He twisted away from it, trying to avoid stray curls wandering towards his mouth, shuddering at the thought of catching them between his lips. Lifting off, he muttered, “Christ, you need a haircut,” and wondered if he should be a little more cautious about goading a mentally unstable Irish chick while she was attached to his neck like a limpet. If she bit him he was dropping her from the top of the damn obs tower. |
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| Siryn | May 11 2010, 12:19 AM Post #4 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Terry mostly let his description of his powers roll right through one ear and out of the other. Under different circumstances, she probably would be more interested to learn about the ins and outs of how other people flew, but right now her mind was elsewhere. “Yeah, science crap…” she parroted to make out like she was listening and form what she had seen of him so far, she doubted that he’d notice himself, so they were all happy. Well, she wasn’t currently happy and she likely wouldn’t be under her wrath was spent. As he rose upwards by way of his powers, the Irish girl squinted for a moment, wondering if he was glowing green all around him again, like back in the kitchen, but then most of their current surroundings were green anyway so she gave up trying to focus on the impossible. Looping her arm around his neck, she steadied her hold, as if she was a drunk being supported home and set her jaw, cursing the bloody null cuff that made her so dependant. Making a face and tilting her head to the side as he spluttered around her hair, she wished she could give him a smack, but remembering the look on his face when she had grabbed his shirt in the kitchen was placating enough and she tossed her hair to the side. “I don’t need a fuckin’ haircut. My hair’s fine the way it is. Just cause I don’t burn it off with flat irons…” she scowled at him sideways, her feet dangling limply, reminding her of what a vulnerable position she was in right that moment. Her face was a picture of irritation and she asked herself again why she was doing this, feeling like she was on autopilot almost, just striking out randomly like this to vent her fury in the first, most obvious direction she had come across, which happened to be her estranged father. Or some random. Luck of the draw, really. “Next time I’ll tie it back if it’ll please yer,” Terry muttered, still glaring sideways daggers at him. “Thanks,” she added brusquely, as they reached the window, as if she was thanking him for a lift home, when really, she couldn’t be doing this without his assistance, but he didn’t seem that bothered by it and if he was, he was hiding it very well under the layers of cockiness. Maybe the idea of getting to some alcohol was just as tempting to him as it was to her. |
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| Hellion(old) | Jun 8 2010, 10:00 PM Post #5 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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They hovered, Julian toeing at the ledge, peering through the panes of old glass. The windows were so old that the surfaces pooled thick at the bottom of each panel, thinner at the top in the absurd way that amorphous solids melted over the centuries. The windows were not open. A small crack at the side of one recently repaired pane ran up along the joints, letting in cold air and insects. “Yeah, your hair’s just fine. That’s why I nearly choked to death on it. I hope you realise falling from up here will cause you severe bodily harm. I mean it won’t kill you. Probably. But you better reconsider how dangerous red-headed hair explosions can be before you’re all laid up flat out in a hospital bed with both your legs shattered, thinking oh, I wish I’d listened to Julian, except now he’s dead because he choked. This hair. Fucking health hazard.” And he shoved open the window, wedging his foot further into the crack. Shoved the wrong way the hinges crunched, brick dust crumbling from where the ancient joints rubbed against older stone. “Don’t even try to tell me to open it with TK. I’d make the whole thing explode.” He kicked too hard and it broke anyway, glass fracturing with pretty little tinkles. Julian stared at it, deadpan, one hand shoved up in the corner of the archway, foot frozen in the new space. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.” A greasy smile peeled across his lips, forced across with lethargic effort as if it hurt. “Ladies first.” |
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| Siryn | Jun 10 2010, 12:02 AM Post #6 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Gripe gripe gripe…This git seriously loved the sound of his own voice and it was driving her insane. Terry wished that she still had her vocal abilities on hand to show him what a real loudmouth was, then he’d not be so bloody cocky with bleeding ears…For a second she almost didn’t get her balance on the ledge and would have fallen backwards if it had not been for him, ironic seeing as it was his yammering distracting her. “Quit mitherin’, will yer? Else me hair won’t be ter blame fer takin’ a tumble off of here!” she snapped, tossing her head and grabbing hold of her wild mane of red hair, holding it back with her free hand and pulling a face at the dark haired lad. “Better?” she growled as she steadied herself and waited, her teeth clenched together, as he shoved at the window but with little avail. Typical. Bloke couldn’t even get a bloody window open… About to take over and try herself, her gave the glass a kick and it shattered. Oh, because that was really useful to them and would leave no immediate signs that they’d been in there…He gave her a creepy sort of smile which Terry returned with a deathly look and she went forward, slipping through the window. “Such a fuckin’ gentleman, ain’t yer?” she muttered, deftly flipping him the bird as she ducked in through the window. Glass crunched under her shoes and she looked around the office, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. So…Was this it? Cassidy’s office? “Hey, is this the right one?” Terry turned around to where Keller was, hopefully, coming in through the window and she hovered nervously by the desk, her eyes scanning it for something…Did the bastard have a photo around of her mother, perhaps? He didn’t deserve to keep it if he did. Feeling the need to seriously move, she started to poke around the room in an attempt to scout out some alcohol and glass as she wasn’t quite at the stage of ripping the cap off and necking the bottle in one, although if Keller made one more comment she might well be driven to it…. |
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2:22 PM Jul 11