animal i have become
Characters: Betsy & Hank
Date & Time: backdated to Nov 16th
Setting: Hank's room
Summary: Beauty meets the Beast
Rating: TBD
Status: open to Hank
Hank practically lived in his lab. She didn't have much reason to venture to that area of the house, but it quickly became apparent that her new friend could spend days at a time locked up by himself in there if given his way. Rumor was Hank was working on something big behind closed doors. A few whispers even said it was a cure of some sort. If true, the news didn't exactly please Betsy. She understood how some mutations could be more troublesome than others, but she would never dream of getting rid of what made her special. All mutants were born with what they had and she had to believe there was a reason for their gifts. However, she knew Hank disagreed, and in the end she wouldn't begrudge anyone their personal choice. She wondered if the resident boy genius ever took breaks to eat or sleep while he was hard at work on a project of this magnitude. She wasn't one to pester, but the least she could do was make a cup of tea and a sandwich to bring to him.
Imagine her surprise when she made her way over and discovered he wasn't there for once. After knocking with no response, she edged the door of the lab open and peeked inside. The place was a mess. Something told her it was not always this bad. Frowning in concern, Betsy decided to try the only other place inside the mansion she thought Hank might logically be.
Heading to the second floor in search of Hank's room, she allowed her psychic sense to reach out and gently touch the minds of the residents of this floor. Nothing too intrusive, but enough to get a mental sense to identify them. Narrowing the rooms down one by one, she stopped in front of Hank's door. Her hand balling into a fist, she raised it hesitantly to knock. The hesitation came from a sudden, strange uncertainty. Her mind-reading told her that Hank was indeed in there, but something was slightly off about his mental signature. It was more chaotic than she remembered his mind being.
Trying not to be alarmed right off the bat, Betsy knocked. << Hank? It's Betsy. I've brought you some food. May I please come in? >>
Date & Time: backdated to Nov 16th
Setting: Hank's room
Summary: Beauty meets the Beast
Rating: TBD
Status: open to Hank
Hank practically lived in his lab. She didn't have much reason to venture to that area of the house, but it quickly became apparent that her new friend could spend days at a time locked up by himself in there if given his way. Rumor was Hank was working on something big behind closed doors. A few whispers even said it was a cure of some sort. If true, the news didn't exactly please Betsy. She understood how some mutations could be more troublesome than others, but she would never dream of getting rid of what made her special. All mutants were born with what they had and she had to believe there was a reason for their gifts. However, she knew Hank disagreed, and in the end she wouldn't begrudge anyone their personal choice. She wondered if the resident boy genius ever took breaks to eat or sleep while he was hard at work on a project of this magnitude. She wasn't one to pester, but the least she could do was make a cup of tea and a sandwich to bring to him.
Imagine her surprise when she made her way over and discovered he wasn't there for once. After knocking with no response, she edged the door of the lab open and peeked inside. The place was a mess. Something told her it was not always this bad. Frowning in concern, Betsy decided to try the only other place inside the mansion she thought Hank might logically be.
Heading to the second floor in search of Hank's room, she allowed her psychic sense to reach out and gently touch the minds of the residents of this floor. Nothing too intrusive, but enough to get a mental sense to identify them. Narrowing the rooms down one by one, she stopped in front of Hank's door. Her hand balling into a fist, she raised it hesitantly to knock. The hesitation came from a sudden, strange uncertainty. Her mind-reading told her that Hank was indeed in there, but something was slightly off about his mental signature. It was more chaotic than she remembered his mind being.
Trying not to be alarmed right off the bat, Betsy knocked. << Hank? It's Betsy. I've brought you some food. May I please come in? >>