Marvel, Rebirth:

IC:

"I'm just not a very good judge of whether someone's being sincere or not."

IC:

Christine left Warren behind after a few moments, satisfied that Matt would be okay. She slowly walked up the stairs, deciding to change into dry clothes. She wandered down the hallway to her dorm in a fog, not really paying attention to anything. She wondered how Aleks was doing, and where exactly he was. Or John for that matter. Christine stopped at her door and noticed a note hanging on it written in John's handwriting.

"**** it John..." she sighed. He couldn't even stay for five minutes after we put Matt in the ground. She pushed her door open and slipped into her room. She began yanking her wet clothes off before grabbing a towel and drying off before pulling on something warm.

Christine laid down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She began blinking hard to try to keep tears away when her mind drifted to Matt. She needed a distraction.

IC:

"Your eyes look greener when you're heartbroken," said Aleks Belikov, who had seen Christine cry just enough times to reach that conclusion effectively. He nudged open her closet door with his foot and stepped out of it, dusting himself off from his travels. He didn't have a gun for once; his hair was unkempt and darker than usual, as though he too were a little wet, though his clothes were dry; his cocoa eyes were dull and far away. All he had was a twenty dollar bill, between index and middle fingers.

"Matt made terrible bets." His former best friend stood up and walked over to the foot of the bed, but only sat on the very edge. "It was one of his defining character traits. That Super Bowl was a massacre - his room has a top notch FiOs package, so I watched it in there. Not even the commercials were good. I was hoping, maybe if...he wanted it to be a heII of a game. They could have at least played a heII of a game for him."

His voice broke. Christine sat up in bed.

"I didn't even realize what he said to me until I was at the camp, you know. I love you, Aleks...stupid last words. Terrible last words. He could have said something a little more poignant, gone out quoting Shakespeare, even dropped a bad pun. Instead I got his love. And now he's dead. So what am I supposed to do with it?"

-Tyler

IC:

Christine looked up at Aleks at a loss for words at once. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah don't have all the answers Aleks," she sighed.

"But... just know that he cared for you, and that's all that's important. You meant something to him and made in impact on his life. Just don't forget him, that's all you can do. But you have to move on and keep living, Ah'm sure he wouldn't want us to mope around sad for too long."

IC:

John nursed his beer slowly. It was strange, after going without a drink for so long it was as if he no longer wanted one. But still he would finish this beer, he'd paid for it after all. His mind continued to wander. Wander to dark places it shouldn't have gone. Like Liam. Matt had been the second person John had buried in that graveyard. His 'son' Liam had been the first.

John had failed Liam more then anything. Liam had been unstable, he'd needed help and John hadn't paid attention. Then he ran off and John wasn't able to find him, wasn't able to keep him from killing those innocent people in the woods. Then Liam came to kill John in the graveyard, and he almost did too until the Ultimate John stepped in and decapitated him.

Howlett gulped down some more beer. Liam hadn't deserved that. There had to have been another way. John had just been too late.

IC:

"What does it matter what he wanted? The kid was a moron." And he was my best friend. My brother. He died telling me he loved me. "And now he's dead."

Christine sighed; her hand was heavy on his shoulder and Matt's name hung between them like an anchor. His blood. He was wounded. He dropped my Makarov. If he hadn't dropped my Makarov, we'd be fine. It had been his first gun; he'd picked it up off the cop he'd saved his mother from, and it had been Matt's first gun too, only it didn't work out for Summers the way it had worked for Aleks. He nearly made it. If we'd both carried John, we could have made it. But they hadn't; Matt had blanked out, Matt had let a stupid idea seize him and work his muscles and make him move like a puppet, and Matt was dead, oh God Matt was dead, and Aleks had been ignoring him for want of something to say, Aleks had ignored him, he'd died thinking Aleks had hated him, Christ Christ Christ...

You can't cry. Don't cry. He didn't, but his shoulder shook under Christine's hand; his throat bobbed and dried; Aleks bit his lip and waited, but no tears came. "I ###### up."

NPC:

The Archangel looked with stoic, sapphire eyes from Jennifer back to Marauder, clearly considering the question at least for a second before a neutral expression: "I'm sorry, ma'am. Sir. That information requires Level 7 clearance. Director Fury's eyes only. We're tough, fast, we fly like bats out of heII and we can fight the same way. That's about all I'm at liberty to say."

-Tyler

IC:

Kane finished another cigarette before tossing it to the ground and crushing it under his heel. He looked up with dark brown orbs as he stared up at the sun for a moment. He enjoyed the heat it radiated against his bare skin. His muscles moved beneath his black tank-top as he walked towards Dominik. Sweat glistened on his skin, above the plethora of tattoos that covered his arms, shoulders and chest.

"Hey Dom," Kane said as he stopped in front of his leader. "I got an invitation to check out the Xavier school. You mind if I head over there? You know how to reach me if you need me."

IC:

Christine pulled Aleks into an strong embrace. "No you didn't," she said. "Ah saw what happened in Matt's memories, you did everything you could. Matt didn't give you a choice, he dragged you into that situation, and he blasted you and John off the rooftop leaving himself behind to slow Daken down."

"Matt may have been a moron, but there were a few things he was and that was loyal and brave."

IC:

Jennifer sighed. She was facing a stone wall it seemed. "Can't you at least answer a few more questions? I just want to understand who I will be working alongside."

"Are the Archangel's only men?" she asked, as she looked around, she hadn't seen any females.

"And what happens if one of your comrades goes rogue? Are there measures in place against this? What happens if the process that transformed you into this fell into the hands of Hydra? Isn't that exactly what they've always wanted? Their own army of supersoldiers? The master race?"

IC: Ashley

By now, the crazy group of mutants had made it out of the hanger and back into the hallways. This was when she noticed her favorite headmaster and headmaster's girlfriend.

"Mr. Warren!" Ashley gave the headmaster a serious salute. "I'm pleased to announce that we took the Blackbird out without scratching any paint!"

NPC:

The Archangel's eyes widened before the barrage of questions. "I mean...yes, ma'am, there were females who made it through training and serve, I...I don't see why there wouldn't be. They kick just like we do. As for the rest, I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss. I'm just a soldier, ma'am, not a lab rat. I take the fight to Hydra and then I come back home to celebrate."

IC:

Everything about Aleksandr René Belikov had been cold for as long as he could remember. Bouncing from Murmansk to Canada to Westchester to hospitals to vents to nights spent on top of skyscrapers under fire, the weather was always chilly, and the chill was almost as much a part of him as a tattoo or a birthmark. But Christine Marie was warm - her hug, her words, her eyes. Even when they were each about to break, tremble away into nothing, they were warm; the mercenary couldn't help himself when he lingered, and when he pulled away, it was with an uncharacteristic reluctance. He looked pale, tired, with deep circles under his eyes and healing cuts on his arms and face. A Russian nesting doll.

"I never...I never said anything to Matt. In the car ride, after he said...when we were traveling, we had all the time in the world to talk about it, and...and we didn't, I let it sit, I pushed the issue back. I didn't tell Matt how I felt...and Matt died. And all I could think about afterwards...Christine..." He blinked, three times, and took a deep breath. Her lips were pursed in a slight confusion. "I can't...I can't let it happen again. I won't. It'll kill me."

Her lips moved to ask what he was talking about; he leaned in and pressed them against his own in a kiss before she could make a sound.

She was warm.

-Tyler

IC:

"Alright, I'll let you get back to saving the world. Thanks for humoring me." Jennifer smiled. On the inside however she frowned. Her questions still remained unanswered. Fury's eyes only hmmm? Perhaps I need to speak to him instead... There was another question she'd been afraid to ask. Are they still even human?

IC:

Christine blinked about to say something along the lines: What were your feelings Aleks? Did you even feel the same way about him?

But then her thoughts all but evaporated as Aleks pressed his lips against hers and kissed her. Christine's heart began to thud in her chest as she kissed Aleks back. Is this really happening? Christine thought bewildered. She'd never told him, but she'd wanted this for so long. When she'd picked up on Matt's feelings for Aleks she had backed off, thinking Aleks had felt something for Matt too.

She thought about the time she'd kissed Aleks during Vegas to borrow his powers. That wasn't like this. That had been a quick surprise, a (enjoyable) necessity there had been no romance to that. But this felt like something real, and Christine didn't want it to ever end. She held back her absorption power, slowing it down so she'd only barely drain Aleks. She pushed his memories away, not even bothering to look at them, she didn't want to look inside his head. Not when hers was busy kissing a hot Russian beefcake.

IC: Marauder

"Thanks. Let's go Jen." As the two were beginning to walk away, Marauder whispered into her ear, "I got our robot friend working on the info. Maybe he can get something."

IC (Romulus)

"Thank you, Ms. Rosewood. You see, I believe Alaric has finally acted on the Ms. Worthington issue. How he has acted, however, remains to be seen. As we are allies in the matter..." Romulus turned a corner, making for the nearest stairs. "...It seems only natural that we discuss the matter before we act. If we act."

IC: Lynae

"... I don't think we should do anything. Romulus I understand your concern but we must wait. As long as there is no threat, I don't plan on doing anything."

She yawned and put a hand on her hip. "Honestly Romulus, we mustn't do anything stupid."

IC (Romulus)

Romulus repressed a sigh. Lynae had much to learn about politics. "Very well then. Far be it for me to disturb you then. Now if you'll pardon me, I have a call with Mr. Greywood." Romulus had not expected such quick action on Alaric's part, it didn't suit the pattern. Perhaps it was a trap, for Romulus was not quick to forget the fate of one Jace Pullem. It seemed unlikely, but one did not survive long enough to build dozens of empires by accepting good fortune as simply that. There was always another factor behind it. Perhaps the enemies supply lines were thin-earning you an easy victory. If one had accepted that easy victory as good luck and had not investigated the factors behind it...then one would miss out on vital, game-changing intelligence.

IC: Lynae

".... You are daft sometimes." Lynae said softly. "It would be in your best interest to actually talk to Alaric before scheming. We have no clue what he was done." She gently walked toward him, flicking his nose with her fingers.

IC (Romulus)

"Ms. Rosewood." The tone in the Emperor's voice was gentle, but there was a certain steel behind it. "If you had walked the halls of the Roman Senate, you would think differently, I assure you." Romulus was still walking torwards his office. Lecutring her on the nature of politics would be an exercise in futility. There were now two options where she was concerned, she was weaving a web and this was a mere ploy to discourage investigation or she honestly thought that such an unexpected action wasn't worth some investigation beforehand. "Do what you will, by all means. I have my own methods of operation. I do not begrudge you yours, I ask that you not begrudge me mine."

IC: Lynae

The vampire smiled. "Alright." She winked and blew him a kiss as she walked out. He was suspect of everything, as was usual.

Lynae pulled her phone out and began to text. Please meet me in my living room. I would like to talk to you. And with a click of a button, the message was sent.

Ic:

A family, Annie thought as she slid slowly back into her sheets, retreating from her phone and the conversation she had held. Not once did she consider the possibility of meeting her father amicably, not after everything in the years of struggling she had gone through. It wasn't that she didn't understand the concept of forgiveness -- she had easily given amnesty to a number of former adversaries when she was still a mob queen -- rather she simply never thought forgiving him was an option in her book.

Superficially, Annie wanted revenge for Warren's abandonment of her, an emotive, raw desire for a rewarding ending that left her desire fulfilled, but that was only the start of something much bigger. Past the initial, Anberlyn wanted answers, as to the why she was not given a chance, why Alaric was the favored child, why her father disappeared in the first place, why was life so cruel and unfair. She expected these things to come along the journey, perhaps at the end, but she still expected them. Her quest was one for answers more than anything. And yet, it seemed, there was more to the stick-thin princess of cheekbones and stormclouds.

She was given a losing hand at the start of her life, that part could never be changed, but despite it all Annie was an optimist. A cautious one, a wary one, an aggressive one, but there was no denying that it was her knack at seeing the things that went right and how they all add up that allowed her to progress in the first place. Annie had taken a losing had given to her, a three-year old girl in dresses who carried a snowman doll, and used it to make her stronger than ever. Anberlyn wasn't weakened by doting or softened by freedom, but rather she adapted and overcame adversity, grabbed it by the hairs on the back of its neck and riding it into the storm with the vigour of a lion tamer on coke.

Annie's journey had always been about proving herself to herself. Her journey was about showing that she was strong, that she wasn't just a little girl but a woman determined to leave her size-8 bootprints on every piece of wet concrete she could find, that her devices she was left with were mechanisms of innovation and power. And so far her journey had been rewarding. The end of her quest was in sight, the climax of her years of self-actualized evolution had been a mere hair away, and then Alaric said the word family.

She wiped the drying tears from her eyes with the corner of her sheet and stared blankly at the stark white ceiling. Forgive Warren, she thought as if to further admit that into her mind. It reverberated within her vast brain, lingering and not leaving. She could adapt to it. She would give Warren a chance, but Ric's wish to see a united Worthington portrait was only half of the reason. The other half: It made sense.

Nothing Annie ever did was frivolous. Everything was purposeful, rational and practical, from the tattoos on her shoulders to the brand of car she finally bought only a short time ago, from the first fistfight fight she got into at the orphanage to the sudden extinction of her biker gang. What was often perceived as a reckless advancement without method was Annie's violent dance with practicality, and at the point in the journey she found herself in then there was a limited selection of options, none of which were as rewarding and potentially beneficial to everyone as giving family a shot. Everything else doomed something she loved, whether it was her brother, her journey or her desire for answers.

She would go see Warren without a gun in her pocket. She would ask him for his reasons without turning him into a hummingbird. She would maybe even wear a smile. Wouldn't that surprise a few people.

Her phone chirped. A text. She ignored it and rolled out of bed on the opposite side and made her way to her closet, slipped a hoodie on, skipped the pants and went to her door. As Alaric had told her, Legionnaires waited outside. She gave them a scornful face before telling them their "services weren't called for after all," then closed the door and returned to her bedroom. The phone chirped the second reminder of the text and she finally stepped to answer it.

Please meet me in my living room. I would like to talk to you.

Anberlyn blinked twice and reread the message and its sender. Lynae had never sent her a message before, nor had they called each other except that one time months before when Lynae tested the number Annie gave her upon joining the club. As far as Anberlyn was aware, Lynae was in the cahoots with Romulus -- they were always chatting and going to the Imperator's office for "discussions," as Annie's informants had so kindly told her. The reports never changed so she stopped getting them, but the unfaltering nature of them spoke as much about the two royals as anything else could.

Still, the message was out of the blue and unexpected. A trap? Or perhaps an attempt at understanding? Either way, Annie was intrigued. She tapped a reply:

Why not my place?

IC: Lynae

Look, the old guy just asked to conspire against you again. I told him no but he seems determined to continue. I would rather meet somewhere he wouldn't expect you to be. The vampire sent back.

Ic:

Annie tapped her response.

Point. Fifteen minutes.

Now she was exceedingly curious what the Black Queen was up to. She had always been the quietest of the royals and generally under Rom's hold but she did have guts and Annie respected that. Whatever Lynae was up to was worth checking out, especially when it had a hush-hush invite extended with it.

Anberlyn didn't waste time on being pretty. She slipped a pair of jeans on and a black leather jacket over her hoody, brushed her hair to presentable standards and slipped into a pair of chelseas. Within a couple minutes of sending the text she was out of her apartment and making her way to the "black" wing of the mansion.

IC: Lynae

The vampire smiled a bit as she put down her phone and headed to the kitchen in her quarters. She might as well play the host game fully and put on some water in case tea was needed.

Lynae also placed the brown leather bound book on the table. It might be needed.

IC: "I can do technology. I can do technology very well. I suppose I could try somewhere like Apple. See if they'll let me patent the iArm."

 

Alec held that arm out, letting the pieces break down and swirl round in various shapes and half-formed implements, each one providing shattered fragments of his own reflection, before they whirled back into a hand, showing a whole Alec once again.

 

"I suppose thats talking about my mutation again though. I thinks thats the problem with going to a school for mutants, you end up letting that be the thing that defines you. Also very little sex-ed. I am constantly surprised we only have the one teen mum in the building. I guess if I were to talk about myself, what I'd want to do is...something good? Can that be a right answer? I mean the three swimming pools would be nice but not if they'd been paid for by, I dunno, human trafficking or something. It's not like I'm afraid of hard work or anything, and just expect the good life to drop into my lap, but I don't want to do anything unduly evil."

 

He'd seen too much prejudice, too much of big men and their even bigger killer robot death machines stepping on those beneath them to want any part of it. One of the benefits of going to a school for mutants.

 

IC

"The field of technology is enormous; there's lots of opportunity," the counsellor replied. "With your abilities, I'm sure many companies would be quite pleased to have you work for them."

She smiled. "And I'm sure we can find you something that's not unduly evil."

IC:

"No, it's not. You don't have to do it alone," the headmaster said, watching Christine leave brusquely. Upset, he thought, a little at me but mostly at the world. Warren Worthington may not have had his lover's psychic prowess but he'd gotten quite good at reading people at this point in his life and he easily recognized someone caught in the throes of aimless loathing. He couldn't pretend he hadn't felt it himself, after Betsy was gone, after Jean went mad. He'd seen Scott that way, too, just before...

It's bugging you again, Warren, he thought, blinking. Quit it. It'll come to you. He almost thought about how if it hadn't come to him after eighteen years, it wouldn't now, but instead he just said: "It's something we can do together." Warren gripped her hand in his, and something outside their little bubble of a world was chirping about the Blackbird. There was something that happened on the Blackbird, the voice was saying, but all he was thinking about was he and Scott on the Blackbird, what had happened on the...

Blackbird!

Blackbird!

Blackbird!

It echoed in his head like the devil's laugh, and Scott disappeared. Ashley Landes was in his face, and Warren blinked, leaning against the stairs. "You...flew the Blackbird?"

-Tyler

IC:

"Maybe you shouldn't have told him that."

IC: Ashley

Ashley nodded, "Uh Huh! Christine copied Sierra's powers, turned into a wolf/bat thingabob...and then flew off. So I decided to take the Blackbird and look for her!" Ashley explained, observing Warren's blank expression.

"We never found Christine though, did she come back here?" Ashley cocked her head to the side, looking at Warren.

IC:

"Errr...Christine? She just...you just passed her in the hallway. She's...definitely not a thingabob, you...you flew the Blackbird?" Warren asked. "How did it go?"

Too late, he remembered he was supposed to be Headmaster. "I mean...you didn't do any damage, did you?"

Well played, Warren.

-Tyler

Ic: Ever since she understood what "fashion" meant Anberlyn never really cared much for the pretty dresses and caked makeup. Wearing the simple tough garb that she did then -- a hoody, leather jacket, jeans and ankle boots -- was like a blast from the past, and a devil may care sort of gait was revived in the process out of instinct. As she strode confidently by the old paintings and sculptures, some of which dated back to the years of Ben Franklin and the like, her irreverent appearance rebelled despite the gaze of a Howard Stark portrait. She tossed a smirk at the handsome face without looking at it; that was how much she cared about old-fashioned traditions.

Despite her lambasting of ancient architectures Annie didn't liken herself to be a wrecking ball. Nothing she joined ever truly was destroyed and oftentimes actually tearing an establishment down was harmful. The buttresses, although ancient and ugly, needed to persist to support order in whatever circumstance they were in. She was instead something of an interior decorator or designer, someone who entered a building, turned things around, burned the old and stocked it with the new all while leaving the walls untouched and layout still. That was her MO: Join an institution, be a source of radical change, then leave the place still standing.

She had no doubt her presence in the Hellfire Club caused a tumult, but that came with her work. The furniture would shift, the curtains would be refreshed, some old bastion would be tossed out the door, but the Hellfire Club as an institution of power and influence would persist. The floor layout would never change; it was a necessary institution. Like the orphanage in Buffalo. Like the mobs of New York.

As she came up to Lynae's room she had the faintest feeling of doubt about the Black Queen's agenda and wish for Annie to visit. Once again the word trap echoed in her mind. But what was Lynae going to do? Kill her? It would upset the establishment, throw a real power vacuum into the mix, earn Ric's everlasting ire, wreck everything clumsily and haphazardly. No, Lynae was too smart for all that, she was being clever. This was no trap, she assured herself, but beyond the door she stood before was a room of powerplaying and cleverness and she wanted in.

Annie knocked on the door twice then immediately turned the doorknob.

IC: Lynae

"Come on in, Annie." Lynae's voice echoed from down the hall. After a short pause the voice emerged again. "Do you like tea?"

IC: Ashley

Ashley sighed in relief, glad to know Christine was safe in the institute and not a thingabob. She'd after to go check up on her later.

"It went great!" Ashley exclaimed. "As far as I can tell the engines didn't suck in too many seagulls. And the flying blue smurfs didn't see us, I wanted to say hi but we were all stealthy mode and surprising them didn't seem like a good idea."

"I got a little worried when the autopilot stopped working buuuuut the big red button that said ALEX on it fixed everything and took us home!"

IC:

"No damage was done." I said quickly, not wanting my first impression to be a bad one.

Ic: Annie didn't know what to expect as she entered. Lynae had always been among the most cordial of the club members, though honestly Annie hadn't spent much time with her to understand her other demeanors. Being the old world vampire she was, Annie always imagined Lynae to be stuffily aristocratic, a straight shoutout from Pride and Prejudice. She expected Victorian furniture with paisley upholstery and velvet arm cushions, maybe a schrunk showcasing a silver spoon collection.

An atrium of modern square furniture, paintings by Marc Chagall (no doubt originals) and a casual shoutout from down a hallway and an invite for tea wasn't at all what she expected. She was pleasantly surprised. Without having it offered she took a seat on the sofa by the coffee table that captured the IKEA's practical essence perfectly.

"I fancy Earl grey. Double bergamot if you have it," she called in response.

IC: Lynae

The vampire couldn't help but grin when Annie said her favorite type of tea. In fact, it was one she preferred as well and she quickly poured the hot water into the mugs before placing the tea bags in.

She carried a tray into the hallway as smiled at her. "Oh! Oh no Annie don't sit there. Come into the living room and make yourself comfortable." Lynae urging the girl to follow her into the living room.

Ic: "Your rooms," Annie said as she got up and lazily trod to the living room, "your rules." Lynae beckoned her to follow though Annie had no problem finding her way; the two Queen apartments were mirrored symmetrical.

She popped down on another sofa and folded her legs into a pretzel before thanking Lynae for the tea. "So."

IC: Lynae

Lynae took a deep sip from her tea before placing it down. "Before we begin to get to know each other, I wish to apologize. I realize that I made assumptions about you without even having proper knowledge of you." She took another deep sip of her tea. "I had only heard that you had a certain reputation and jumped to conclusions. And for that, I would like to apologize."

Ic: Now this was interesting. The fashion tastes were one thing but Lynae actually apologizing to Anberlyn for her assumptions was like biting into a donut only to realize it had a jelly center. It was delicious. Like the tea. Annie took a sip and relished in the sharp citrus flavor that hung like a cigar aftertaste.

"So you want to refresh things and get to know me better, huh? Maybe find out what is and isn't true." She turned her eyes to the floor in thought for a brief moment before flashing a bemused frown. "Apology accepted."

IC: Lynae

The vampire grinned and clapped her hands together. "Fantastic. As I said I do wish to know you but for a specific reason." She said softly.

"You know Annie... When I was young, I went through a violent phase. The way I became what I am was not a nice one, and I took a great joy in taking my revenge. I can still hear it... The snapping of their bones between my hands... Their cries of terror before I snapped their necks.." Her voice was sharp and almost excited as if the memory brought some lost feeling of both pain and sick pleasure.

Yet after a short pause, she seemed to return and a smile flitted onto her lips. "But... After years of such behavior, I began to see the senselessness of my behavior and opted to change." She looked Annie in the eye and asked her, "Now why do you think that may be?"

Ic: "You said it yourself," Annie said simply. "It was senseless behaviour. Violence without meaning is a worthless endeavor. There must have been so much more to be earned without violence than with it."

Lynae said, "Yes, yes... But a young vampire, filled with blood lust and hate, doesn't listen to much logic. I met someone, Annie." Lynae picked up the leather book and gently handed it to Annie. "Go on, look inside."

"Ohhhkay," Annie said casually before stretching her legs out, setting her tea down and accepting the book. She figured it was a photo album; it was heavy with thick pages and no title on the bindings. She opened it and was instantly met with the visage of another woman. "Who's this?"

"My little sister," she said softly. "She was odd, even for a vampire. She didn't drink human blood, didn't fight when it came down to it..." Lynae smiled sadly and sighed. "I loved her dearly... And she is also the reason I am talking to you now."

"What, are you going to say you love me and view me as a sort of sister?" Annie teased as she flipped the page.

Lynae chuckled a bit before sipping her tea. "Not at the present but what the future holds, I do not know. Friends is what I would like to begin to be." She sat her cup down on the table and looked at Annie once more. "Romulus and I spoke to your brother and it was apparent it hurt him and... I am guessing by the slight puffy nature of your eyes that it hurt you too. I'm not going to rip a family apart. I don't want what happened to me be your fate."

"Friends..." Annie echoed, mulling the idea over as she held the cup to her lips but did not drink. Alaric did tell her over the phone that she needed friends. Allies, as she knew, were invaluable, but Lynae had said friends, with the hint at something more. Friends weren't just people you could move around like chess pieces (jab intended), friends were the sort of people you could conquer the universe together with, and siblings were the ones you could rule the universe with.

"Alright," Annie said, set the book down, folded the book on her lap and crossed her arms. "We're friends."

IC:

Jennifer found herself seemingly pulled away from the Archangel. She walked with Marauder a few steps before stopping. "I'm not sure if Vivus will be able to get anything... but its always worth a try."

IC: Marauder

"True. Also, I didn't know you have some type of mutant power? Do you not like to show or something?"

IC: Alec grimaced, "But, see, that just brings me to my original point. I've got no qualifications. No experience. I wouldn't know how to write a thesis if someone gave me a thesis telling me. The only reason I'd be hired for tech is because of the arm. And if I know that, other people will know it. Cue discrimination." He sighed, "Is there any way in this school I might actually learn something? Because it would be handy if could graduate with life skills other than punching stuff in the face."