if you got a hunger for what you see
WHO: Scathach [spadassin], Scott Summers [thing4telepaths], and Emma Frost [notyetqueen]?
WHERE: Institute?
WHEN: Right after this.
WARNINGS: TBA.
SUMMARY: After absorbing some of Laura's emotions, Scatty needs a place to lay low so she can sort them out and not scare/hurt anybody.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, feel free to change!
What had happened after Scathach had fed from her opponent was a blur. More fighting, more blood, more pain--screams all around, bodies fleeing and lying on the ground. Her mind was trying to take it all in, trying to process it slowly, but that simply was not working. Everything was coming at her too hard, too fast; the absolute rage and fear were too much to handle, too much to take in at once. Perhaps feeding from the girl had not been her best course of action--but then, there had not been much time to properly analyze the situation before making a decision. Some things just could not be thought about.
Like where she was going. Down one street and another, the girl's blood on her no-longer pristine white tank top and a hole in the thigh of her white jeans, her eyes still flat reflective disks of the forest-green aura. Skin pulled tight over her skull, features too-sharp, freckles on her face and shoulders nearly crimson. Her nostrils flared, finding a scent, marking it, following it. It was familiar, and that was all she could think about. The fight had not lasted long, and the girl had been engaged with someone else and Scathach had just left because it was no longer safe for her to be there. No longer a good course of action.
The Institute came up before her like a great citadel, a beast waiting to swallow her whole. She entered, stayed in the shadows out of habit, out of necessity. The master of camouflage. No one should see her this way, no one. One person, that was acceptable. Not Josh--he was too young, could be given a bad, harmful impression of her. Not Alex--no, he shouldn't have to deal with this. But there was one other person she could trust. It was risky, stupid, but she still couldn't think straight. There was still so much anger, so much fright--she pushed open the door to his office without knocking, her body still as she didn't even breathe before speaking.
"Scott."
WHERE: Institute?
WHEN: Right after this.
WARNINGS: TBA.
SUMMARY: After absorbing some of Laura's emotions, Scatty needs a place to lay low so she can sort them out and not scare/hurt anybody.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, feel free to change!
What had happened after Scathach had fed from her opponent was a blur. More fighting, more blood, more pain--screams all around, bodies fleeing and lying on the ground. Her mind was trying to take it all in, trying to process it slowly, but that simply was not working. Everything was coming at her too hard, too fast; the absolute rage and fear were too much to handle, too much to take in at once. Perhaps feeding from the girl had not been her best course of action--but then, there had not been much time to properly analyze the situation before making a decision. Some things just could not be thought about.
Like where she was going. Down one street and another, the girl's blood on her no-longer pristine white tank top and a hole in the thigh of her white jeans, her eyes still flat reflective disks of the forest-green aura. Skin pulled tight over her skull, features too-sharp, freckles on her face and shoulders nearly crimson. Her nostrils flared, finding a scent, marking it, following it. It was familiar, and that was all she could think about. The fight had not lasted long, and the girl had been engaged with someone else and Scathach had just left because it was no longer safe for her to be there. No longer a good course of action.
The Institute came up before her like a great citadel, a beast waiting to swallow her whole. She entered, stayed in the shadows out of habit, out of necessity. The master of camouflage. No one should see her this way, no one. One person, that was acceptable. Not Josh--he was too young, could be given a bad, harmful impression of her. Not Alex--no, he shouldn't have to deal with this. But there was one other person she could trust. It was risky, stupid, but she still couldn't think straight. There was still so much anger, so much fright--she pushed open the door to his office without knocking, her body still as she didn't even breathe before speaking.
"Scott."