The carnage in the hotel ballroom disappears in a gut wrenching wave of nausea and blurryness. When she can see again, she's on her knees, surrounded by her fellow Exiles
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Raven straightens up, surveying the options. "Everyone good with Chinese? I wouldn't mind a little tissue diversity in my diet. I still have some restructuring left to..."
She pauses, a slightly confused look on her face, then tries to poke a finger into what appears to be the pocket of her bluejeans. A bloody red line opens at the seam. She stares at it in delight.
She keeps poking her finger into the bloody gash; sometimes frowning, sometimes grining, always trying to worm her fingers deeper under the top layer of skin.
"Art students. Just look at that hair." She points at her granddaughter's blonde streak.
Her face grave, she takes the proffered bandaid and puts it over a tiny portion of the wound. When she rubs her hand over the rest, the line heals closed.
"These are really great bandaids," she says. "All better. Thank you."
Spidey's listening, but he's also a bit distant, towards the Chinese place, like that guy who's always sorta lingering in the direction everyone needs to go, so nobody gets too distracted and forgets what they're doing. Never been a big fan of dilly-dallying.
Still... sounds like mutants might be a bit more normal here.
"She got into The Academy." The mother is momentarily distracted by pride in her offspring. "I hate to see her go to a boarding school, but they have plenty of chances for parents to visit, and it's one of the top prep schools in the country, even without all the extra curriculars."
She turns to the man trailing behind. "Are you the, er. cameraman?" Her fingers curl into air quotes.
Raven gives the mother an appologetic what-can-you-do shrug.
Wok and Roll is only two more doors down. It's a little early for the lunch crowd, so few of the tables are occupied. Inside, the back wall is plastered with larger than life photos of foods with combo order numbers beside them. A bored teenage cashier is texting while waiting for customers.
Raven shifts her features to appear Asian. Shewalks up to the teenager and says something soft in Chinese. His eyes widen, and he disappears behind the counter for a moment, reappearing with an elegant cloth-bound menu entirely in Chinese.
"Whatever they want," she says in English. Then she proceeds to order half a dozen things off the special menu.
The kid glances at the others and chuckles quietly to himself. "Sure, sure."
He gives TJ and Spidey a surprisingly innocent grin. "And what can I get for you? Lemme guess - General Tso's chicken and an order of Sweet and Sour chicken?"
She pauses, a slightly confused look on her face, then tries to poke a finger into what appears to be the pocket of her bluejeans. A bloody red line opens at the seam. She stares at it in delight.
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"Yeah, Chinese is fine," agrees TJ, rolling her neck in an attempt to stretch it out. "As long as I get something spicy, and in large quantities."
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She keeps poking her finger into the bloody gash; sometimes frowning, sometimes grining, always trying to worm her fingers deeper under the top layer of skin.
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"I gots a bandaid you can use." He pulls a Spongebob Squarepants bandaid off his scabby knee and holds it out to the older blue woman.
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"Um...ma'am...do you need a ride to a hospital?"
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"It's nothing," she says, "Special effects for a movie we're in."
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The mother looks unconvinced.
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Her face grave, she takes the proffered bandaid and puts it over a tiny portion of the wound. When she rubs her hand over the rest, the line heals closed.
"These are really great bandaids," she says. "All better. Thank you."
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The boy takes Spongebob Squarepants healing abilities entirely for granted.
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Still... sounds like mutants might be a bit more normal here.
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She turns to the man trailing behind. "Are you the, er. cameraman?" Her fingers curl into air quotes.
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"No, I'm the director. We're running a bit late here..."
Hungry, please. No chit-chatting with the locals yet.
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Wok and Roll is only two more doors down. It's a little early for the lunch crowd, so few of the tables are occupied. Inside, the back wall is plastered with larger than life photos of foods with combo order numbers beside them. A bored teenage cashier is texting while waiting for customers.
Raven shifts her features to appear Asian. Shewalks up to the teenager and says something soft in Chinese. His eyes widen, and he disappears behind the counter for a moment, reappearing with an elegant cloth-bound menu entirely in Chinese.
"Whatever they want," she says in English. Then she proceeds to order half a dozen things off the special menu.
Reply
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He gives TJ and Spidey a surprisingly innocent grin. "And what can I get for you? Lemme guess - General Tso's chicken and an order of Sweet and Sour chicken?"
Reply
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