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| Awesome Possum; -Tommy | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 18 2012, 06:17 PM (959 Views) | |
| Tommy | Apr 20 2012, 11:52 PM Post #16 |
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Two-Dimensional Form/ Camouflaging
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The hand upon her shoulder came quite unexpectedly; its familiarity, unwarranted. However, it was not entirely uncomfortable, though Tommy’s face grew increasingly warm as she blushed ever so obviously. The normally baby’s-breath-blue shade of her cheeks had turned a ruddy lavender, blood rushing throughout. She was indeed glad that Roadkill couldn’t visually bear witness to her rosy expression as he guided her along. The pastel pixie found herself pleasantly surprised by his somewhat rebellious attitude in comparison to the other Morlocks she’d gone on supply runs with in the past. Annalee was a stickler for the rules and Sunder needed to be looked after like a puppy. This man, though… He seemed to come alive amongst the city air once they'd exited the shadow-streaked tunnels of the Morlock sanctuary. “You like fresh baked desserts?” The question pulled her out from the depths of her timid daydreams, grounding her in reality. “Is that a serious question?” she asked rhetorically, a shy giggle in tow. “Cupcakes, brownies, pies… I pretty much crave them all the time, but you know we don’t really get them too much down there. Plus, Mother Inferior hoards them like crazy even though it’s totally not fair.” Their subsequent small-scale collision with an unknown man was a bit jarring, though not because of the accident itself. It had inadvertently caused Roadkill to press his body closer to hers for a split second, the pressure of his torso against her own causing another influx of blood to flush her cheeks. The multi-hued girl was suddenly very self-conscious of the heat she must’ve been giving off, being very unused to physical contact. “I got the feelin’ tonight is going to be all right. Now help a blind Mississippi boy out and pretend to lead the way.” “Oh. Um, right! Sure, right!” she timidly exclaimed. Tommy crawled from underneath his arm and took hold of his hand, placing it upon her shoulder as she stepped a few paces ahead of him. Before they had come near the crosswalk, a passing man greeted her Morlock companion with a hearty “what’s up” before continuing on his way. “You have friends up here? How often do you go topside?” she queried with a slight hint idolization. Perhaps she would get her adventure after all. |
[align=center]"I was just a young girl. Drain angels, they called us."![]() Cerebro File - Thread Journal[/align] | |
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| Roadkill | Apr 21 2012, 04:26 AM Post #17 |
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“Is that a serious question?” A laugh was all he gave in reply, though he was particularly aware of the heat that radiated off of Tommy like a steamy New Orleans sidewalk in August. “Well, there ain’t no mothers round here,” he said to her. “We get to that bakery and you get first pick.” When he slid his thumb along the ink on the corners of the bills he figured out that there must have been at least five twenties along with a few tens and some ones. The fold was fat for sure, and they were damn sure going to have a good time tonight. “Now I might know a few people topside,” he said downplaying it a little as they veered toward the hub of Mutant Town activity. “I was nocturnal long before these powers kicked in Paper Doll.” He rested his hand on her burning shoulder. In his mind’s eye the heat she put off distinguished her from the relatively cool spring night air. “You don’t think I spend all my nights underground, now do you?” Together they trudged on in silence a little before he continued. “Nah, well I guess neither one of us has been guilty of being too open, yeah?” By this time the music pouring out of some of the smoke-filled bars was washing over his body and bringing with it a kind of numbing euphoria that could so easily overwhelm him if he let it. “So tell,” he smiled at her, his eyes hidden beneath the brim of his hat, “what does Tommy like to do when she comes out? What does she do when surrounded by the commotion of the city?” Somehow he didn’t think the shy nervousness was all there was to it. If he had his guess there was something deeper down that she wasn’t all too comfortable with. Another passerby called out his name, but he only nodded this time, his ears twitching a little and his skin twitching at another distant sound. Hearing the sirens long before anyone else, Roadkill suddenly pulled Tommy into a space between buildings, moving with inhuman agility and surefootedness, he quickly led her by the hand to the back recesses and ducked down behind a dumpster just as the sirens became audible to her. They stopped just outside the alley and Nick squeezed her hand a little. Callisto would kick his ass if he got them in any trouble…but Nick was good about dodging trouble-for the most part. “You like music?” He whispered to her from their hiding place. “I’m talkin’ the kind that comes from somewhere words can’t define.” His senses stretched out as he talked, whatever the cops were looking for, they weren’t going away just yet. He could feel the heat from the beams of their flashlights as they ventured a look down the long dark alley. From where they were, a leap onto the dumpster could get them to the fire escape ladder. Nick didn’t exactly need it. He could scale the wall just fine. But right now he was thinking about keeping Tommy safe. He sniffed the air, the smell of sugary bread filling his senses. “We probably two blocks away from that bread, Paper. Just hold your breath a second and we’ll move on.” An unfriendly voice called down the alley. "Roadkill! You in there?" He looked at Tommy and shook his head, putting a clawed finger to his lips to shush her. "You still owe me," the voice yelled. "I'm here to collect." |
![]() -Thank you Tommy (not the speedster) | |
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| Chrysalis | Apr 21 2012, 05:46 PM Post #18 |
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Unregistered
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Username: Mirrorauror7557 House: Ravenclaw Wand: Spruce and Phoenix Feather, Fourteen and a Half inches, Hard.
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| Tommy | Apr 22 2012, 06:20 PM Post #19 |
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“So tell, what does Tommy like to do when she comes out? What does she do when surrounded by the commotion of the city?” “Oh, um… Well I never really go out onto the streets all that much. At least, not when I’m alone, which I guess is most of the time I come up here. I kind of just stick to the outskirts,” she said as she glanced around to the flashing lights and bustling crowds. The multi-hued girl turned her head towards Roadkill in expectation of a reply, but his thoughts seemed otherwise preoccupied. Their sudden detour into the alleyway was staggering. Confusion mixed with awkward disbelief. She readied herself to protest, but the wailing noise of sirens that soon flooded her eardrums now painted a clearer picture. The thought of law officers drudged up bitter experiences for the Drain Angel and scenes from her recent altercation at Wannabees flashed across her mind’s eye. "Roadkill! You in there? You still owe me. I’m here to collect.” The voice came slithering through the alleyway. Tommy could see the beam of a flashlight hung steady in the heavy air. This whole situation wasn’t altogether alien to her, but it was never a pleasant experience to have in any case. The slow, repetitive thud of boots on asphalt echoed off the brick walls as the unknown pursuer drew near. “ [size0]Don’t move,” she whispered to the Morlock as she pushed him level against the wall. Her natural instincts kicking in, the young girl transformed, her mass now shunted to some pocket dimension. Colors and shadows blended into her form as she shielded the blind man from view with her paper-thin body nearly wrapped around his own. A few seconds later and she could sense the faint heat of the unknown man’s flashlight upon her back, though she couldn’t see his face in her position. Another second more and the sound of his boots exiting the alleyway brought about a sigh of relief and a return to her normalized form. “What was that even about?” she queried, though she kept her voice low. The girl was curious, but she didn’t want to push the subject. She valued her own privacy and so respected that of others. Looking up to the fire escape above them, she concluded that a more inconspicuous route might serve better for the two. “See, that’s why I prefer to stick to the back ways,” she said light-heartedly as she scaled the rust-coated ladder. Years of climbing through grates and dashing through tunnels and alleyways had bestowed Tommy with an astounding amount of agility, aided in part by her youth and small stature. The pastel pixie nearly rivaled Roadkill in speed as they climbed to the rooftops. A bracing wind carried the sounds and smells of the city to them, the night sky littered with stars serving as a glittering backdrop to Mutant Town. It was enchanting. “You asked if I liked music before… Does this count?” she asked. The music of the World Above was all around them. “So, about those breads?” |
[align=center]"I was just a young girl. Drain angels, they called us."![]() Cerebro File - Thread Journal[/align] | |
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| Roadkill | Apr 23 2012, 04:03 AM Post #20 |
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Each footfall that echoed off of the brick walls around him felt more than just a little foreboding. They could still make it out of there, but as the two rogue cops drew closer he knew his options were quickly slipping away. He heard the tinny metallic clicks and he knew their guns were drawn. Tilting his head just slightly he scanned the area again. The ladder overhead seemed like their best bet, but before he had a chance to do or say anything about it Tommy spoke. ”Don’t move.” He didn’t resist when she pushed him up against the wall, though was a more than a little surprised when she made the move toward and onto…or more to the point around him. The image of the two police walking directly in front of them flashed though his mind and he could feel the heat of the beam of light from the flashlight as it panned over them. It wasn’t until the last of the clacking sounds of his boots faded into a retreating echo and Tommy pulled herself off of him when Nick finally found his voice again. “That?” He looked over his shoulder and decided that maybe she deserved some of the truth. “That’s what happens when you gamble with a dirty cop and win all his money in front of his hooker girlfriend.” Nick let her help him up to his feet while chuckling a little. “Son of a bitch has been tryin’ to pay me back for months now. S’ kinda a little game we got goin’ on.” Only Nick knew for sure that if Officer Friendly caught up with him it wouldn’t be for fun and games. And so they ascended to the top of the building, Tommy with impressive stealth and agility on the rusty iron ladder and Nick straight up the side of the building. Flipping feet over hands he landed on the rooftop next to her, tipping his head and pulling the hat off. From under the hat he pulled a pack of cigarettes, popping one out with a sharp tap to the bottom and pulling it out with his lips. He held the pack out in offering to Tommy while flipping the hat back on. Up here the winds washed over him, carrying so much information that it was almost overwhelming to his skin. “This definitely counts,” he grinned at her mischievously and then lit his cigarette. Pulling it out he pointed over the side. “Best bakery in Mutant Town, right over that ledge.” He went over to the ledge and took a seat, the sounds and smells from below blowing past him. “Lived down in N’awlins for years,” he said fondly. “Somethin’ always goin’ on in a city like New Orleans.” Hearing her move up behind him he patted the ledge. “We’ll get down there to that sweet stuff soon enough,” he said. “Just come take a seat first and let me finish my smoke.” |
![]() -Thank you Tommy (not the speedster) | |
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| Tommy | Apr 23 2012, 08:55 PM Post #21 |
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Tommy declined his offer of a cigarette, simply waving her hand in a delicate gesture as to wordlessly say “no thanks” to the man. As he walked over to the ledge, she noticed how sure-footed and confident Roadkill’s stride was – a marked difference from the one he displayed in his role as an unassuming cripple only minutes ago. In essence, even amongst the evolved humans of Mutant Town, Mr. Sloan still hid many truths beneath his hat, metaphorically speaking of course. “The best bakery, you say? I hope it lives up to the hype,” she said playfully. The pastel pixie took a few steps toward the marsupial mutant until she had reached the ledge, taking a short moment to look over the ledge at the lively mass of mutants who walked beneath her before taking a seat next to Sloan. She seemed to appear as though she was floating underwater, hair flowing back and forth in a slow dance among the swirling breeze. Though she wasn’t a fan of the odorous stench of cigarette smoke, she was lucky enough that the wind’s course was able to keep away the smoky tendrils emanating from Roadkill’s cancer stick. “I’ve never been outside of New York,” she said in response to his reminiscence. “The furthest I’ve ever been was Westchester and even that was during the end of the world.” She giggled softly, though the tone was somewhat melancholy. “I want to see the world someday. Europe, Japan, even the deepest oceans. I want to swim with mermaids. I don’t care if their fictional. It's silly, but it's my dream.” |
[align=center]"I was just a young girl. Drain angels, they called us."![]() Cerebro File - Thread Journal[/align] | |
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| Roadkill | Apr 24 2012, 03:15 PM Post #22 |
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“Westchester.” The tone had a slightly wistful note when he said it. “Now I might not agree with them on a lot of points, but say what you will-they didn’t have to take us in the way they did.” He wasn’t sure what he was saying about the X-Men, it sure wasn’t that he felt like he owed them anything in particular…but they weren’t bad in his book, no matter how much they strained against each other since then. With a shake of his head he leaned back on one hand, facing out over the cityscape below them in silent reflection. “Helluva world, Tommy. Helluva world.” Of course he recognized the wanderlust in Tommy’s voice. The same temptations spoke to him all the time. It was what prompted him to leave Mississippi in the first place, and kept him traveling first to New Orleans and later on the long trip up the east coast to New York City. There was something undeniably romantic about the whole notion of it, and he picked up on some of that in her comment about swimming with the mermaids. “Hell yeah,” he said with a chuckle and then flipped his cigarette butt over the side of the building. “You should go out and see the world,” he encouraged. “Just don’t go so fast that you miss it, is all.” But this was nice. This was what he was talking about. The night was young and he wasn’t in any kind of a big hurry. “You ever wonder,” he said with a glance over to her. “Just what make someone like Callisto do what she do?” He leaned her way just a little as the unseasonably cool air blew over them in harsh gusts. “I mean, she sho’ don’t make enough for what she does, all she sacrifices to look out for us, yeah?” He had an idea of it; he just wanted to see what Tommy thought. “What do you think makes someone like her tick?” |
![]() -Thank you Tommy (not the speedster) | |
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| Tommy | Apr 26 2012, 06:13 AM Post #23 |
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Roadkill was certainly turning out to be a far more interesting figure than she had originally given him credit for. Most of the other Morlocks weren’t exactly what one could call intellectual or cultured, though they of course had their positive aspects, but Mr. Sloan had an air of intelligent charm about him. It was a refreshing change from the awkward conversations with Annalee concerning the multitude of tricks men might use to taint a young woman’s innocence. Certainly, it was a drastic contrast to the exchanges she’d partake in with Sunder. The pastel pixie had never been able to adequately contribute to a back-and-forth that focused on the sensation of punching through various substances. “Hmmm. I’ve known Callisto for the majority of my life, and to be honest, I really can’t fathom what kind of force drives her,” she said truthfully. Taking a moment to ponder his question further before she replied, Tommy searched through her memories of their cyclopean leader; eighteen or so odd years of life beneath the surface to sift through. “What I do know, however, is that she’s a natural born leader. I’ve never really seen her struggle with the position, you know? She’s commanding and inspiring, if a bit harsh at times. I think- I know she loves us and that's a big part of it,” the young girl stated with conviction. “What about you? What do you think?” Rhuurmmble… The hunger that stirred within Tommy’s stomach had decided to make itself known. “ [size0]Oh… Um, I guess I’m hungry. Can we go eat soon?” she asked meekly. |
[align=center]"I was just a young girl. Drain angels, they called us."![]() Cerebro File - Thread Journal[/align] | |
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| Avery | Apr 27 2012, 06:35 AM Post #24 |
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Botanical Manipulation and Biology
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Username: NightKey4399 House: Gryffindor (that makes me happy) Wand: Silver lime, Phoenix feather core, 13 3/4", slightly yielding. Wood: Silver lime This unusual and highly attractive wand wood was greatly in vogue in the nineteenth century. Demand outstripped supply, and unscrupulous wandmakers dyed substandard woods in an effort to fool purchasers into believing that they had purchased silver lime. The reasons for these wands’ desirability lay not only in their unusually handsome appearance, but also because they had a reputation for performing best for Seers and those skilled in Legilimency, mysterious arts both, which consequently gave the possessor of a silver lime wand considerable status. When demand was at its height, wandmaker Arturo Cephalopos claimed that the association between silver lime and clairvoyance was ‘a falsehood circulated by merchants like Gerbold Ollivander (my own grandfather), who have overstocked their workshops with silver lime and hope to shift their surplus.’ But Cephalopos was a slipshod wandmaker and an ignoramus, and nobody, Seer or not, was surprised when he went out of business. Core: Phoenix This is the rarest core type. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn or dragon cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike. Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalise, and their allegiance is usually hard won. |
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| Roadkill | Apr 28 2012, 04:13 PM Post #25 |
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Nick knew a lot of things about Callisto that very few people ever had a chance to see. Even with all of that he knew he didn’t have the whole story by a long shot. Callisto had a very rough history, and there was more than one reason why she dedicated her life to protect a group of misfits. “She comes off rough sometimes,” he said thoughtfully. “But it’s safe enough to say there’s a lot of reasons why she do what she do. And it’s probably true enough to also say that there’s a whole lot of Callisto down beneath the surface.” He shrugged. It wasn’t exactly his place to say anything in particular. Callisto was pretty private about those details. “She is a good leader,” he said. “Guess it’s just important that I think she’s got our best in mind.” Hearing her stomach growl, Roadkill shook his head and laughed. “All right Paper Doll, let’s get you some food before you lose all strength. With natural grace he stood to his feet and then reached a hand over to help her up. It was pretty amazing how light she felt to him. “I’ll catch you down on the ground,” he said. With a slick smile and a tip of his hat he stepped off the ledge and gravity swept him out of her view. Landing on a ledge a story below he crouched down and with a springing motion leaped over to an overhead streetlight. His tail curled around the pole and he dropped upside down, holding onto his hat with one hand and then flipping his feet around as his tail uncoiled and landing lightly on the street below. He didn’t have to look to see if Tommy was following. She was quick enough. Easily working his way through the crowd of people he stepped over to the bakery building and leaned against the wall. At last he spoke, smiling at her slyly. “Bout time you showed up.” He kicked the door open with the back of his foot and swept his arms inward in a gesture for her to enter first. “Anything that catches the ladies eye,” he said. “Can’t have you goin’ home hungry, no.” |
![]() -Thank you Tommy (not the speedster) | |
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| Tommy | Apr 29 2012, 01:43 AM Post #26 |
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It only took Roadkill a matter of seconds to scale down the building’s side and stick a landing that would make any Olympian green with envy. Tommy was agile, but she was certainly no acrobat on level with Sloan. Instead, she had a simpler method of dealing with heights; a trick she rarely used due to a distinct lack of opportunity in the tunnels, though it wasn't for lack of anything else. Stepping up to the very edge of the rooftop, the pastel pixie leaped forward and with the tiniest of efforts she had once again transformed into her paper-thin state. With the updrafts that flowed between buildings, she was free to fall with style like a petal on the wind. It wasn’t as fast, but it was certainly enjoyable. She could already see Sloan making his way to the bakery through the throng of people and Tommy quickly caught up to him the moment she landed, quite gracefully too at that. “Bout time you showed up.” “Well, I thought it was important to work up a slight appetite,” she replied with a giggle in tow. “Anything that catches the ladies eye. Can’t have you goin’ home hungry, no.” Her eyes widened to the point where they had become great pink saucers that shone bright with wonder. Tommy took a quick look around the shop before she turned back to Roadkill. They were surrounded by the sweet-smelling fragrance of freshly baked breads and pastries. Heaven incarnate for the young sugar addict. “Anything? Those are dangerous words. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” the girl teasingly asked. In a flurry of tongs and wax paper, the multi-hued girl cut a swath through the crowd as she made a beeline for the cakes. The doughnuts were next and the cookies after that, at least a few of each wrapped carefully in her carrying basket. When she had finished with her selections she happily made her way back to Sloan. “Okay, I’m all set! I figured I’d get some for you that I thought you’d like and um, one or two for Sally I guess… So are you still sure you can pay for them all? I feel kind of bad, even though I really held back,” she said, still grasping a carrier overflowing with treats and a glutton's smile painted across her features. |
[align=center]"I was just a young girl. Drain angels, they called us."![]() Cerebro File - Thread Journal[/align] | |
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| Roadkill | Apr 29 2012, 04:02 PM Post #27 |
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Within the bakery Nick found his own senses were also delightfully overwhelmed. The heat and smell of freshly baking breads assailed him on all fronts and he chuckled lightly as the distinct impression of Tommy looking around in childlike delight at the feast in front of them. She didn’t hesitate to take him up on his offer, flitting from counter to counter and amassing a great quantity and variety of different treats. Letting her go for the moment, Nick stepped up to another worker and made a slightly more responsible order. The other Morlocks might appreciate some fresh bread. He found some loaves that seemed dense and filling enough, and ordered half a dozen of them…and topped it off with one filled croissant, which he set aside for Callisto. “Course I’m sure,” he said. Running his thumb over the corners of the bills in the wallet to read the denominations he pulled out the appropriate amount and set it on the counter before slipping the wallet back into his jeans pocket and snatching the sack off of the counter. He slipped an arm around Tommy’s shoulder. “Come on, we got a few other places to see tonight, but you need to get some food in you.” He led her out the door. It seemed that there was a good amount of people out tonight…which was good. Though Nick was the quiet sort, he sort of came alive around people. Off to the right was an umbrella-covered table that was unoccupied. He turned her slightly and pointed. “Head over there and I’ll go get us a couple of nice drinks, yeah?” Handing her the bag of bread he tipped his hat at her and waggled his ears before spinning smoothly on his sneakers and heading in the other direction. There was no way of knowing what was going to happen next. |
![]() -Thank you Tommy (not the speedster) | |
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| Cessily Kincaid | May 1 2012, 03:12 AM Post #28 |
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Metallic Polymorph
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Username: GhostSilver23015 House: Slytherin Wand: Aspen, Unicorn Core, 10 3/4inches, slightly springy
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| Tommy | May 2 2012, 08:37 PM Post #29 |
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“Oh! If they have any kind of mocha something, I’d be good with that!” she called out to the man as he sauntered off. Tommy took a moment to peruse through all of the baked goods they had accumulated between the two of them. She noticed that Sloan had been quite a bit more practical than she had, his bags mostly filled with loaves to be shared, and felt a little guilty at getting carried away. “Maybe I should just eat one and then save the rest for everyone else to share. I should have enough anyway, right?” she monologued to herself. The pastel pixie grabbed a lightly frosted pastry from the brown paper bag, ripping bite sized chunks from it that she summarily nibbled out of existence. Tommy figured she could just leisurely enjoy her food as she took in the atmosphere. Mutants, both marked and unmarked, scuttled past her while embroiled in their own conversations. The young girl loved to people watch, though she was more accustomed to doing so from afar rather than within the thick of it. A while had passed before she began to grow nervous at the length of Roadkill’s absence. Her treat was nothing but crumbs upon a napkin now. Without a watch, it was difficult to tell exactly how long he'd been gone, but it felt like an excessive amount of time for a few drinks. Could he still be in line? No. The city was bustling, but it wasn’t that busy for a Friday night. A number of reasons darted across her thoughts. Perhaps he was held up by a friend or… Sirens. The distant sound of sirens pierced through the cacophony of the city and straight into Tommy’s tightened chest as the worry set in. Could the cops have caught up to him? Gathering up the crinkled paper bags in her willowy grasp, the young woman swiftly made her way down the street toward Roadkill’s previous direction, hair fluttering behind her as the contents in the myriad of bags were jostled around by her hurried gait. She wasn’t quite sure what she would or could do, but if he needed her, she would try and do her best to find him. Fingers crossed… |
[align=center]"I was just a young girl. Drain angels, they called us."![]() Cerebro File - Thread Journal[/align] | |
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| Roadkill | May 8 2012, 01:32 AM Post #30 |
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“Mocha somethin’ or other,” he echoed over his shoulder to his sweet-toothed Morlock friend with a light-hearted laugh. “Think I’m seein’ a trend here.” As Nick moved away in search of drinks he smiled to himself a little. This was turning out to be even more fun than he anticipated. Someone brushed past him calling out a greeting over their shoulder as they moved past. With the way his mutation worked he could ‘see’ things all around him…and it didn’t have anything to do with his eyes. A grin spread over Nick’s face when he recognized the voice. Guy was a musician, a regular on the Mutant Town scene and pretty good with just about any kind of percussion you could imagine. Nick had jammed with him a number of times. Smile fixed in place he turned, and the two of them caught up for a few minutes. He was so enthralled in the conversation and in planning future jams in fact that he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up directly behind him. As a strong hand grabbed him by the shoulder he knew he had made a serious mistake in letting his guard down. “Officer Taylor,” he said with a forced smile, taking note of his musician buddy beating a hasty retreat. “Long time no see, yeah?” Taking out a cigarette, he slipped it into his lips as he turned to the two cops and made a grab for his lighter that was intercepted by an angry swatting hand that snatched the cigarette out of his lips and then delivered a balled up fist to his stomach with enough force to make him double over. “You…wanna talk…” But the cops didn’t wait for him to ask. With their arms around him they dragged him into an alley and hurled him into the side of a metal dumpster, laughing at the loud hollow clang his head made against the rusty metal. Picking up his hat, Nick held out his hands while flipping his hat back into place. He heard the tinny clicks and knew there was a gun pointed at him. “No escape this time Roadkill” one of the cops sneered at him. “And you sure can’t cheat your way out of this one.” Before he could answer he was hit on the side of the head with the butt of a gun. “You owe us,” the other one said. “And today is payday.” |
![]() -Thank you Tommy (not the speedster) | |
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7:31 PM Jul 11