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| Swap Meet; Tag: Open, Concurrent with "Hot Potato" | |
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| Topic Started: Dec 15 2014, 04:48 PM (411 Views) | |
| Wolfsbane | Dec 15 2014, 04:48 PM Post #1 |
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Wolf Form
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Timeframe: December 10th, @ 2 pm Location: Classrooms Wing With her class done for the day, it was now time for Rahne Russell to make her way over to the newly-established daycare room and pick up her son just in time for one of his very favorite games, "throw the bunny at mommy". It was a game that never failed to make him giggle, and he had quite a throwing arm at that. His aim wasn't great per se, but he usually hit some form of his mark. Luckily, it was just a plush bunny and didn't cause any damage, even in the rare times when Rahne failed to catch it. Rahne adjusted the canvas bag on her shoulder, which oddly felt a little bit heavier than usual. She wondered what that was all about. She hadn't packed it with anything more than usual, that was for sure. Just her standard things - the remains of her packed lunch, a few books, pens, pencils, markers - stuff like that. Why this bag all of a sudden felt like it weighed more than it did in the morning when it had more in it was beyond her. She glanced inside it - everything looked to be in order. Nothing extra slipped in there, nothing new snuck into the bag. "Huh," with a shrug of her shoulders, she opted to just let it be one of those unsolved mysteries for now. Maybe she was getting a little bit sick, who knew? She made it to the door of the daycare room, and opened it up. Lucky enough, daycare was just down the hall from her classroom, a few doors down, so it was easy enough. Not that anything in this mansion was all too difficult for her to get to. "There's muh boooy!" she called out as she walked her way in, making her way around the other kids and giving a light nod of greeting to the person in charge today. Thank goodness for having enough people on hand at any given time to keep the daycare well-managed whenever it needed to be. Greg, as Rahne predicted, was armed and ready to go as he sat near the toybox, his bunny in hand as he grinned widely at his mom, arms beating up and down in excitement. "Hope he was nae too much trouble t'day," she said to the daycare attendant, before she saw it. His arm wound up, and the rabbit was airborne. And just like usual, Rahne was ready. Her reflexes were quick and accurate, and as the rabbit flew at her, her right hand was ready to catch it. What she wasn't ready for, however, was for the rabbit to suddenly change direction just before it made it to her hand and fly right back into its thrower's face. The plush bunny smacked right into Greg's face with a muffled thump, before falling limply into his lap. Both mother and son stared in wide-eyed shock for a moment before he was the first one to break the silence, crying out his surprise and displeasure at being smacked in the face with his own projectile. Rahne immediately went into mommy-mode, swooping down and picking him up, cradling the crying baby in her arms, bouncing him and "shh"ing him with quiet sounds. Something had happened, that was for sure. Something that wasn't her. The way the rabbit moved - it wasn't natural. It wasn't right. She should have caught it, but it had flung itself out of her reach before she could. Almost like it was drawn back to him. She glanced over to the daycare attendant, eyes wide and head shaking from side to side as Greg began to calm down a bit. "I have no idea what happened there," she said. |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Preview | Dec 16 2014, 03:34 AM Post #2 |
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Precognition
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Jessica was careful, excruciatingly careful, because right now she was doing something that she knew that she wasn't allowed to do. Not technically. Not if she was following the rules. But Jessica had spent a great deal of time following the rules, the school's rules, and after several years of only entering the danger room with an X-Man present, she finally decided she'd had enough waiting. she was twenty-freaking- one. She could vote, she could drink, she could go to war. That last one seemed especially pointed in case they started gunning down mutants. She couldn't sit by and wait for one of her very busy leaders to come watch her in an obstacle course. She had to be proactive. The rule, obviously, wasn't meant for her anyway. She wasn't some first year kid throwing herself into simulations thinking it'll make her an X-man. The room was vacant so she wasn't in anyone's way and she'd been in and out of it enough times to know the standard procedure like her own name. Hell she even shared a face with the young woman who once merged with the danger room and saved the school, which had to count for something... Even more importantly, she had her mutant powers. Though most knew her only to scan seconds ahead in a fight, Jessica's mind was always in flux, always getting flashes of something in her near future, even when not clearly defined. She was almost always safe with such powers at her guard. What was the worst that could happen? Jessica was more worried about her accomplice, if anyone. A girl her own age that had seemingly admired Jessica's drive and volunteered herself as Jess' training partner. So far they both managed themselves in the danger room competently, it was more fun than challenging but that was all Jess had ever set the program to be. Aggressors marched in militaristic fashion after her and her partner. The pair had already taken out three individuals but a large group was headed their way. While Jessica could pick them off, having the pyrokinetic mutant by her side assured that even this group was likely to be quickly placated. The girl looked to her, asked if she was ready to move in. On queue, a piston-like mechanism shot out from the wall that Jessica was taking cover behind as she sidled along. Jessica rolled her head to the side ever-so-slightly, unharmed and casual about by the sudden obstacle, that could have likely knocked her cold. That part was easy, not unlike anything she didn't do on a daily basis. But as she began to take forward, narrowly dodging another obstacle, her reflex was accompanied by a feeling, a chill racing up her spine and giving her a moments pause. She'd had her fair share of 'bad feelings', it came with the territory of being a precog, but this was not that and whatever she was experiencing was something outside of her abilities. Not even a second later, her head swam and she leaned into the wall. She pressed her palms against the wall for support and sighed. Sensing something amiss, Jessica's friend touched her shoulder. In all of her years of being a precog, not reacting to even the slightest act before it transpired seemed entirely too late. Having been touched, having been surprised, was one thing that she was not at all used to. Jessica gasped, spun around despite her lightheadedness and swung her balled fists in an instant. Jessica threw a very good punch for someone her size and build but even before she realized who had gotten the drop on her, she knew something was different. The sound of her fist connecting had a different sound to it, a sickening sound. On the ground, sprawled at her feet was her ally out cold. Jessica choked as she saw the trickle of blood slip from her mouth, staggered backward after what felt like an eternity of no movement. Only as she reached out to touch Rebecca, to ensure that she was breathing, did she see the metallic detail to her hands. Jessica swallowed hard. They didn't look like her hands, but she knew they were hers. She froze, forgetting the girl she just injured for a moment to look in mixed awe and horror at her hands. At her wrists. Arms. Holy, shit, her whole body! Jessica thought to help the girl to her feet, only to find that she could scoop her limp body up with ease. Their Danger room objective was to get to the safe zone after eliminating the targets but she didn't have time to complete the mission. She would have to take a failure, and gladly. More important matters had to be addressed. She took of running for the safe zone. She didn't know why or how her body was changed but she was sure it wasn't the danger room and, with her having had peers of diamond, metal, rock and everything else imaginable, she had the good sense to guess she was bulletproof. Not a single shot pierced her skin as she bounded for the safe zone. Danger was smart, it thought to adjust, and Jessica could tell it wanted to adjust the difficulty to something more appropriate for her form but was slow in doing so, potentially because it too sensed the outside influences. The raining session ended abruptly and she hefted the other girl out to the hallway when the door finally opened. "Help!" Jessica cried out, "Jesusfrickingfuckinghelp..." Jessica slumped against a wall again, trying to get a hold of herself. She felt panicked. Had she hurt Rebecca? What was going on? On the verge of tears, Jessica ran to the elevator hoping to find someone, anyone, who could be of assistance to them. Except that would be hard... The moment that the elevator doors opened, Jessica could hear the chaos down the hall. A pair of very irritated very bewildered younger students walked briskly pass her only to stop dead when they noticed her cargo. "We're...dying?" The kid asked in a shaky voice. Jessica went wide eyed. She knew she wasn't dying, or at least she assumed not but the panic on their faces was warning enough for what was to come. First one student started to burst out into a sob, a hysterical, frantic sob. Her friend began to screa; to yell and scream at the top of his lungs. "HELLLLP," Jessica called breathlessly. "I can't see. What the hell is going on? I can't see." |
[align=center]![]() I can just hear them now --"How could you let us down?" But they don't know what I found; or see it from this way around [/align] | |
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| Reverselle | Dec 16 2014, 07:53 AM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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Just another day at Mutant High. Elle was heading towards the daycare herself, having just left her last class. She had one less class than last year, since she needed to pick up Nate and take him home. He was still a bit young for a full day here, and she didn't mind getting out early. She might just spend the extra hour babysitting, but watching cartoons and eating snacks beat another class any day. She paused for a moment just a few turns from her destination, swaying and leaning against the wall for support. Frowning, Elle adjusted her backpack and continued on, mumbling to herself. "What was that?" She had suddenly felt...weird. Something was off. Maybe some of that mutant mystery meat from lunch wasn't agreeing with her? She hoped it wasn't a cold, who knew what you could catch around here? The teen entered the daycare area a few minutes after Rahne, Greg's by-now-familiar cries greeting her. He wasn't a particularly angry kid, he didn't cry a lot, but he was certainly loud and vocal. Lots of grunting and gurgling from that one. "What happened this time, did you take away something he'd decided was his new chewtoy?" She grinned at the pair, although it turned into a grimace as she swayed again. "...I...I don't feel so good." Elle shed her backpack, letting it fall to the ground as she plopped herself into the nearest adult-sized chair. Her skin felt itchy. Her bones...they didn't hurt, but they didn't feel right either. As she scratched at her left arm through her sleeve, a helpful message from a teacher she didn't entirely trust piped up, not doing much to reassure her. "Wh-what's going on?" The scratching at her arm became a bit too intense, the young mutant sitting up with a yelp as her nails tore right through the sleeve of her hoodie. Lifting her hand, she was startled by the sight of blood on her nails. Claws, really, although she didn't realize it quite yet. The wicked things had torn right through the fabric and into the flesh beneath. Her eyes were wide as she pulled open the jagged hole to get a better look at her arm, although there was suddenly too much blood-matted fur in the way to see much. Shrieking, she rapidly tore her jacket away, wriggling wildly in the chair to be free of it. She was too horrified by the fur she was rapidly spouting to realize she was baring the nasty burn scarring that covered most of her right arm. The fur wasn't growing in there, but it was spreading almost everyone else, her clothing tearing and splitting apart in places as it became too snug for her suddenly growing, thickening form. "What's happening to me!?" She was easily howling louder than the pup, now. |
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| Martha Johansson | Dec 17 2014, 07:04 AM Post #4 |
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Unregistered
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An assortment of young mutants varying from expected skin tones to unexpected rainbow shades to wings to reptilian aesthetics filled the halls, nonchalantly trailing from classrooms to wherever they were required next. Watching the prepubescent crowd softened Martha's already soft features, eliciting a pleasant smile from the brunette telepath. They were so innocent, so naive; a part of her felt disheartened knowing this youthful purity was guaranteed an execution upon this particular group repeatedly graduation from subsequent ranks. Although she assumed a certain cynicism in response to unwarranted intolerance and bigotry was also somewhat relieving. Acclimating to a hostile environment was good, but remaining unfazed was admittedly unnerving. That sanctimonious nonsense spouted by "neo-Purifiers" and other misled, "unblemished" organizations may have incited initial ambivalence among younger mutants, but eventually they had to realize that nonsense was just that. Nonsense. Unadulterated nonsense. But for now she was content enjoying that natural adorable bounce in their adorable steps. Many waved and Martha reciprocated, her smile never wavering. Until a horrendous cry pierced the serene atmosphere; terror sullied the voice -- female -- and caused Martha to nearly trip. She steadied herself and began to follow the request's direction, now certain it belonged to Jessica Vale. Maybe she wasn't as acquainted with her as she was with her sister, Sarah, but nevertheless that voice was unmistakable. Yet, that very moment also included an intense wave of malaise. The students went from trailing to running and Martha turned back around, unsure of where to go or even what to do. Her mind was fuzzy. Not like the lack of clarity associated with telepathy, that was akin to drowning -- this was like finding yourself behind an opaque barrier and hearing sounds carrying unfamiliarity. Her hands, now trembling, moved along an adjacent wall, guiding Martha to the nearest location with people, anyone capable of providing assistance. She could feel her knees buckle and something painful in her bones -- was this the end? However, voices reached her, voices she recognized. Rahne Russell. Painfully breathing a sigh of relief she entered the room, immediately collapsing and voicing her severe discomfort with a loud groan. "Som-some... something... is wro... wro-" Her words were cut off by a scream. Her scream. Everything, it hurt! Although she was unaware of it, those in the room witnessed the gradual change from Martha Johansson to a prehistoric mix between a hyena and wolf. |
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| Wolfsbane | Dec 18 2014, 12:19 AM Post #5 |
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Wolf Form
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Something was wrong. That much was painfully obvious to Rahne as she startled a bit at Elle's arrival. It wasn't that Rahne would have been particularly surprised that Elle would be here, she was practically Nate's babysitter after all - no, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Rahne couldn't sense her coming. Couldn't hear her walking down the hall, couldn't catch her scent on the air - that never happened, not even when she had a bit of a head cold to worry about. "Elle, I -" Rahne frowned, glancing down to the baby in her arms as he began to calm down, still sniffling out his displeasure at having been swatted in the face by his own throw. How did that happen? There was no way no matter how he threw it, that it would just go right back at him and smack him in the face. Bunny was not, after all, Boomerang Bunny, unless some clever little jokester had somehow installed some kind of machine thing inside it to... Elle's quick admission that she didn't feel well filled Rahne with an odd sense of dread. Something was wrong, something... Her eyes flew wide open when Elle's fingertips punctured her sleeve and her flesh, causing blood to spill out. That shouldn't have been possible... it shouldn't... Elle was changing. Transforming... just like Rahne could. Was this a new secondary mutation? Was she now copying other people's powers? "Elle, calm down, have a seat..." Rahne spoke softly, before turning to the young teacher in charge of the day care. "Take the wee ones down to my classroom - I'll handle this here." She turned back to Elle as the young woman began her first transformation into a werewolf. The how and why could wait. Right now, Rahne needed to show Elle that this was okay, that she would be okay. Greg fidgeted, whimpering in his mother's arms, as Elle's panic was agitating him a bit, putting him on edge. "Deep breaths, Elle, I'll help ye through this-" Rahne stopped short, mouth hanging agape. "Let's try this again..." nothing. It wasn't working. She couldn't change. "I dinnae understand - how..." And then the situation became more strained, more bizarre, as Martha stumbled into the room, immediately collapsing and undergoing her own transformation - into... into Damien's form? "What is goin' on here...?" Rahne gasped, unable to really grasp just what was... "Wait..." glancing downward, she had a thought. A strange thought. She kicked her right leg up, sending the sandal on that foot soaring upward. She watched the shoe, watched it for anything... At the apex of its trip, where gravity began to take hold and send it back downward, slowing its ascent, it suddenly fell... upwards - until it landed on the ceiling with a slight bounce and stayed up there. "Oh boy..." Rahne muttered. |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Reverselle | Dec 19 2014, 11:12 PM Post #6 |
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Unregistered
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Elle continued to squirm in her seat, whining in discomfort as the changes continued. Now her shoes were just a bit too small, her legs kicking as she scraped her feet against the ground and each other before managing to pry them off. Her nails had torn through her socks, furry toes poking out. A sharp pain at the base of her spine made her yelp, jerking out of her seat as her body decided that sitting was no longer comfortable. She stumbled away from Rahne as the adult tried to comfort her, the new wolf feeling at her lower back anxiously. "Are you doing this to me? Is it contagious!? S-stay back!" She hadn't been bitten or anything, but maybe mutant werewolves worked differently? Elle finally found the source of the problem, pushing her jeans down a few inches in back, shivering as her new tail was freed. She stretched and actually sighed in relief as one problem was solved, although Martha's arrival a few moments later sent her freaking out again soon enough. "You're doing it to her, too!" Her eyes were wide, even as they changed as well, picking up more detail about the situation than she'd ever thought possible. Long, furry ears twitching, nose crinkling as information bombarded her. No, the other furry thing was different from her, or Greg. She didn't look or...smell the same. "N-no, she's not even human anymore..." Elle was at least still standing (a few inches taller, even) on two feet, right hand pressed against the wound on her left arm, which she was too preoccupied to realize had already closed over. Elle shuffled away from both of them, back against the wall, tail flattened down by it. Her clothes in tatters. Her transformation seemed to be finished, the odd discomforts and pains replaced by inhabiting a body that simply didn't feel right. She tried to hold still and not look down at herself, whimpering...before going quiet as her eyes followed Rahne's sandal up to where it now rested on the ceiling. "...n-no, wait...I...?" |
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| Nate Summers | Dec 21 2014, 03:20 AM Post #7 |
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Thermomagnetism
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The wave went through the day care, and Nate barely noticed. He stayed where he was, scribbling with a blue and a red crayon clutched in his hands, drawing on a piece of construction paper what he was certain was an absolutely lifelike picture of Captain America. The chaos began simply with Miss Rahne seemingly smacking Greg in the face with a toy, and then the screaming started. Nate got out of the small chair he was sitting in, dropping his crayons on the table, casually, and while it would probably scare most little boys to have screaming happening, Nate was the son of two superheroes, the nephew of close to a dozen more, the grandson of a supervillain and a pirate, so yeah, there was usually screaming somewhere. His Unca Jonny and Auntie Laura were cloned ex-assassins for goodness sake. He was a hard little boy to scare. But he was also only two, and therefore there was no way he was not going to go see what was happening. Which is how, as Elle was turning into a wolf, and Martha was turning into something worse, young Nate was standing in the door, watching with wide eyes. He pulled up the hood of his Captain America sweatshirt to protect himself because no one could hurt him if he was Cappa Murka, and he followed Elle's gaze up to the shoe on the ceiling. "Is you powa," he said, matter of factly. "You do." Screaming was still happening, and people were panicking everywhere, and Nate watched from beneath the security blanket of his hood, trying, in his childish way, to figure out if he could help in anyway. Greg was fussing and crying in his mom's arms, so Nate waved at him, trying to help him be calm, since the grown ups weren't do a good job. "All staff and students report to the cafetorium, stay calm. This is not an attack. Report to the cafetorium and wait for instructions," Came Scott's announcement over the intercom. Nate looked up and looked around for the source of the voice, "Unta Scott?" he asked. He didn't know what Uncle Scott was saying, but the way he said it made him feel better somehow. Uncle Scott would fix things. He had to. |
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| Colossus | Jan 16 2015, 07:14 AM Post #8 |
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Organic Metal Form
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There were times when Piotr wondered if he'd ever get Nuya fully potty trained. For the most part, the Rasputins were of the collected opinion that Nuya had the whole potty situation under control. He still wore a diaper, because he was only two, but about ninety percent of the time it was just a security thing. The point was, Piotr was still thinking about this topic a couple hours after Nuya had an accident in the daycare. He didn't know how Alex and Lorna were handling the whole thing with Nate, and he assumed Rahne and Jack were still working with diapers considering Greg's age, but as a first time parent, and a single parent on top of that, he was wondering if Nuya was behind on that. To be fair though, he was worried that his lack of fatherhood skills had Nuya behind on a lot of things, not just the one issue. Turning a corner, Piotr was nearing the daycare to pick up his son, whom had closed in on himself after the incident. And then something happened. A wave of energy passed him and Piotr was stunned for a moment, confusion pinning him to his spot in the hallway. "What in the hell was...?" And like that, things were flashing through his mind. Passing students in the hallways panicking. Scott addressing students and teachers with switched powers. Seeing his son standing close to his friend Nate who seemed less worried than Nuya felt. Catching up to Jessica Vale carrying a friend and looking for help because she'd slammed a metal fist into the girl on accident. Wait... What? Since when did Jessica turn metal? For that matter, when did Piotr know about things that hasn't happened yet? "No time to worry about that. Get to the girls." He stepped forward, and suddenly he was stepping around kids and older students, and running down to meet up with Jess at an intersection. But not yet. Apparently he'd only moved a step. The sudden disorientation was so unexpected that he couldn't process it. Couldn't handle it. A wetness covered his lips, and he brought a hand up to wipe it away. The fingers were covered in blood, and a migraine was well on it's way to developing. Half stumbling, one hand out to follow the wall and the other trying to stem the tide of the blood, Piotr wound his way through the school, seemingly untouchable by those around him as he expertly wove through anything in his way before he had a chance of being jostled. Nearly collapsing in pain, Piotr came across an intersection, and like that he was caught up to himself in his memory. The pain lessened a small amount, and he looked through one un-squinted eye at Jessica. "Imagine yourself powering down... After you set her down first so you don't drop her on her face again." God he hated the pain in his mind. |
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2:29 PM Jul 11