Sarah
2/17/2008
An apartment in the Bronx plays host to Marrow currently. She is dressed in clothing borrowed from Erik Lensherr, most likely the property of Ellen Dramstadt. She is in a ribbed black turtle-neck, though the sleeves and back bulge awkwardly over spikes of bone only a matter of an inch or two long each. Black slacks hang over bare feet, which are tremendously dirty from walking around the city. Conveniently, the turtleneck hides the massive scar that remains to mark the passing of Marrow's voice. The ratty apartment still has tattered furniture in it, rips all through cushions and mattresses. Sarah keeps it rented out, even though she no longer lives here. The building's super didn't even bother when she missed paying the last month's rent. Sarah is laying on her back on the place's single bedroom's bed, a cigarette in one hand and her eyes open, gazing unfocused at the ceiling.
Name and aliases remain unchanged.
Mystique has been here more than once in the past several days. There are no real signs of it, but the walk to the apartment is familiar, and she navigates it with ease. The sharp rap of her knuckles against the door is brief and slightly impatient, and she tugs her coat a bit tighter around her. Blonde hair falls in neat waves to her shoulders while ice-blue eyes consider the door.
Marrow does not answer out loud. Her lips move to trace some retort to the door out, but it is quite the futile thing. She sighs in frustration and pushes her way up to her feet. Padding through the filthy apartment, cigarette smoke tails behind her lazily. Instead of opening the door, she thumps a fist against it once.
The thump takes Mystique by surprise - she is, in fact, halfway through a turn to go before it comes. There is a pause, and then she leans forward to try the knob.
It isn't locked. When she hears the knob rattling, loose in it's home in the door, Marrow turns her lumpy back to the door and starts back to the other side of the apartment, moving in near silence to return to the bed. Whomever it is, she isn't feeling especially concerned with caution.
This fact in itself is slightly worrisome to Mystique, who is frowning as she enters and closes the door just behind her. She carries a small bag under her arm, and her hand rests lightly on the strap as her eyes seek out Sarah.
Marrow's front is turned toward Mystique once more as she drops down to sit on the end of the bed, which faces out toward the entrance of the apartment. Her green eyes, deep in the shadows of her horns, look over the woman in the apartment with her. She still says nothing.
"Sarah." The name is more recognition than greeting, and her blue eyes turn yellow a few seconds before the rest of her shifts to her natural state. For a long moment she says nothing more, simply standing and studying the other.
The shift of Mystique's shape carries all the confirmation Marrow needed. She brings her cigarette to her lips and takes a long drag from it, holding the smoke in like someone used to other types of smoke. When the exhalation comes, it is long and slow. She does not greet the blue mutant verbally, but after the long quiet, she nods her head upwards.
"You should be more careful," Mystique says, finally, and then she stirs in a step forward, swinging her bag free of her shoulder as she goes.
Sarah's upper lip curls slightly, showing yellowed teeth beyond it at the advice. She watches Mystique's bag swing, signs of caution only beginning to show now.
"Not that I doubt your ability to take care of yourself," Mystique murmurs, as if she had not paused. From within the bag she draws a small electronic device, almost a computer, and her attention focuses there. "But caution is always wise."
Green eyes follow the device, Marrow's gaze narrowing as she tries to puzzle out what the thing might be. She has reached a point where she does not bother trying to respond to most statements people make and Mystique's words on caution are no different. The bony mutant simply watches her.
Silence is met once more with silence, while Mystique drops the bag to the floor and pauses a moment to power the device up. After several minutes, she extends it to Sarah. It contains a small keyboard and speakers, and software that turns input into one into output from the other. It is offered without comment, although golden eyes fix firmly on Sarah.
Marrow looks at the little device for a moment wen it is held out toward her. Her expression screws up and turns ugly, but she snatches the thing out of Mystique's hand. She is not the most brillant typist, but the message comes out clearly enough. [What the fuck you want me to say]
Mystique watches all this without much expression. Her gaze flickers down to the device as it speaks, and then rises slowly back to Marrow. Silence stretches for a moment longer before she replies, "There is nothing I want you to say. I simply thought it should be your decision, whether to remain silent or to speak. "
Spellcheck is a Godsend. [Ain't a choice.] She yanks the turtleneck down to make sure Mystique can have a long, unobstruced look at the ugly scar on her throat. Marrow sneers up at her and then types again. [Can either not talk or talk like a gimp.]
"I heard," Mystique responds quietly. Her expression hardens, yellow eyes growing dim. "If I could fix the other, I would."
Zenith has changed the party! [Sun Feb 17 19:54:47 2008 CST] Come and protest the objectification of mutants on reality TV in the park! Or just cause trouble in front of the cameras! tel to Zenith to join.
There is something in Mystique's choice of phrase that brings an especially ugly smirk onto Marrow's face. She looks down at the little device in her hands and shakes her head. [You got any idea how fucking embarrassing this shit is?] The software sounds out her foul words. It kills the impact, a bit, for them to be broken down phonetically.
"Not particularly," Mystique replies dryly, her lips twisted into an unpleasant expression. "But I have a vivid imagination. I suppose I thought it might be a better option than attempting sign language."
That ugly smirk of Sarah's comes back. [I can do sign luggage.] She scowls down at the little machine when it cannot quite follow her horrendous spelling and displays her skill in signing. She raises a middle finger to it.
That earns a brief smile from Mystique, accompanied by a tip of her head. "Eloquent," she murmurs.
Marrow smirks herself and taps a fingertip to one of her horns, a mock cocky little grin being growing out of the smirk to accompany a nod of her head. [I appreciate the guest chair,] the device translates out of her horribly typing. [I don't need to talk that much. but I guess if I have to.]
Mystique tips her head, half a nod of acknowledgement. She does not say 'you're welcome.' Instead she says, "Is there anything else you need?"
Sarah shakes her head to that, ignoring the device to simply leave the gesture as it is. She takes another drag of her cigarette instead. She shrugs her skinny shoulders and leans back on the bed a little.
In the silence, the faint, dark sigh that escapes from Mystique's lips is clearly audible. She lowers herself carefully to sit on the edge of the bed, hands curled over her knees, and does not say anything.
Sarah looks sideways at Mystique for a moment as she moves to sit down nearby. She leans over and grabs up her package of cigarettes to hold it out in a companionable offer.
Mystique turns her head to consider the offer, and after a somewhat lengthy pause she dips her head in a nod, silent thank you, and leans to take the package. She taps one out with neat efficiency and tosses the pack to the bed as she takes the cigarette between her lips.
The lighter follows, just a simple disposable thing. Sarah tosses it to Mystique before sitting up and picking at one of the small, bony protrusions at her wrist. It is not a spike like the others on her shoulders and back, but simply a place where the bone has pushed out of her skin.
The lighter flares into life as Mystique puffs the cigarette to a glow and then she tosses that to the bed as well. She glances briefly at Sarah, watching her, and then exhales a circling stream of smoke.
The little voice device is tugged over and Sarah types simply, [They got worse.] She holds up her wrist so Mystique can see it, then she gives a nod toward one of her shoulders, to indicate the new growth there.
Mystique's gaze follows the lift of Sarah's wrist, and she frowns faintly as she lifts her eyes to meet Sarah's. "Do you know why?"
Silence. This one is a heavy, weighty thing, and it does not break for several breath's worth of thoughts before she wonders quietly, "Did they do anything that might cause them to grow? Outside of the stress?" Her gaze moves back to Sarah and she elaborates, "If there is any sort of medical care you need, I will provide it."
"You were there for quite some time," Mystique replies simply. The last two words result in a brief smile, but it does not last long as Mystique looks away again. "I'm sorry we did not find you sooner. They were-- exceptionally careful. And I didn't know you'd been taken at first."
Marrow looks silently at Mystique as she apologizes for not finding her. Her head tilts slightly and then she reaches over to lightly slap the back of a hand against Mystique's shoulder. It's meant to be a friendly sort of gesture, from her expression. The electronic voice speaks what her fingers type, [Not your fault. I bet Jason still don't know I'm gone.]
Oh, very friendly. One can tell from the startled look that crosses Mystique's face before she straightens and plants the cigarette between her lips. The corners tug down around it. "Jason told me," she corrects simply.
Marrow looks genuinely surprised to hear that. Her eyes blink as she looks at Mystique, expression carrying the 'huh' that her voice cannot.
"He has his moments, I suppose," Mystique says, voice dry.
A silent chuckle moves Sarah before she takes another of those long, held drags of her cigarette. She exhales it through her nose. The delay before the little machine plays out her words shows how she as thinking on what to 'say'. [When I left the Brotherhood, I never thought I'd end up praying for it to come back and help me.]
Mystique's cigarette burns between her fingers, and the corner of her jaw tightens perceptably at Sarah's words as her gaze remains forward. She remains silent.
"Life would be easier," Mystique replies, very quietly, "If that were the case."
Marrow doesn't type anything in response to that. She does, however, lay her head back and mouth the phrase 'no shit'. It is really not all that hard to lip read. She remains silent, both the surgically enforced way and in leaving the keypad alone for the moment.
Silence has become a theme of the evening, and it stretches between them once more. It's less heavy this time, but not particularly light for all that. Mystique concentrates on the smoking of her cigarette. It's a vice gone long unpracticed, but she doesn't seem to have forgotten how. After some time, she turns to glance at Sarah and wonders, "Are you staying here? I've stopped by before, but found no one."
Marrow's horned head shakes slowly. She frowns down at the little machine as it informs Mystique, [Staying with him. Just for right now.] A flush comes to her gaunt cheeks, as admitting to where she is staying makes her think uncomfortable thoughts.
The information gets an instant reaction, a sudden stiffening of muscle and posture. "With Erik." It is statement, not question, and her eyes linger bright on Marrow.
She doesn't meet Mystique's eyes. She instead, looks down at her filthy feet poking out of the cuffs of the borrowed slacks.
"Be careful," Mystique says, words and tone brief. She rises from the edge of the bed, cigarette still clamped between her fingers. "And be cautious in your expectations."
The little machine is used once more. Sarah types in two little words, before slapping the enter button and dropping the little machine onto the bed. She stands up and starts walking away as it reads out, [Just safe.] Humiliated at the reasoning why she is staying with Erik, Marrow seems to be intent on just walking away after admitting it.
"Even that," Mystique murmurs, pausing to watch Sarah as she moves. "Be careful, Sarah. And if you need something. Contact me."
Marrow lifts one hand up, thumb to her ear and pinky to her mouth, as if she were promising to call Mystique. She slinks out of the apartment and lets the door swing lazily shut behind her.
Mystique watches her leave in - surprise - silence. As the door closes, Mystique lowers herself to the edge of the bed once more. She remains there for some time, long past the end of the cigarette, before she rises and exits. The machine is left behind.
Mystique brings Sarah a present.
An apartment in the Bronx plays host to Marrow currently. She is dressed in clothing borrowed from Erik Lensherr, most likely the property of Ellen Dramstadt. She is in a ribbed black turtle-neck, though the sleeves and back bulge awkwardly over spikes of bone only a matter of an inch or two long each. Black slacks hang over bare feet, which are tremendously dirty from walking around the city. Conveniently, the turtleneck hides the massive scar that remains to mark the passing of Marrow's voice. The ratty apartment still has tattered furniture in it, rips all through cushions and mattresses. Sarah keeps it rented out, even though she no longer lives here. The building's super didn't even bother when she missed paying the last month's rent. Sarah is laying on her back on the place's single bedroom's bed, a cigarette in one hand and her eyes open, gazing unfocused at the ceiling.
Name and aliases remain unchanged.
Mystique has been here more than once in the past several days. There are no real signs of it, but the walk to the apartment is familiar, and she navigates it with ease. The sharp rap of her knuckles against the door is brief and slightly impatient, and she tugs her coat a bit tighter around her. Blonde hair falls in neat waves to her shoulders while ice-blue eyes consider the door.
Marrow does not answer out loud. Her lips move to trace some retort to the door out, but it is quite the futile thing. She sighs in frustration and pushes her way up to her feet. Padding through the filthy apartment, cigarette smoke tails behind her lazily. Instead of opening the door, she thumps a fist against it once.
The thump takes Mystique by surprise - she is, in fact, halfway through a turn to go before it comes. There is a pause, and then she leans forward to try the knob.
It isn't locked. When she hears the knob rattling, loose in it's home in the door, Marrow turns her lumpy back to the door and starts back to the other side of the apartment, moving in near silence to return to the bed. Whomever it is, she isn't feeling especially concerned with caution.
This fact in itself is slightly worrisome to Mystique, who is frowning as she enters and closes the door just behind her. She carries a small bag under her arm, and her hand rests lightly on the strap as her eyes seek out Sarah.
Marrow's front is turned toward Mystique once more as she drops down to sit on the end of the bed, which faces out toward the entrance of the apartment. Her green eyes, deep in the shadows of her horns, look over the woman in the apartment with her. She still says nothing.
"Sarah." The name is more recognition than greeting, and her blue eyes turn yellow a few seconds before the rest of her shifts to her natural state. For a long moment she says nothing more, simply standing and studying the other.
The shift of Mystique's shape carries all the confirmation Marrow needed. She brings her cigarette to her lips and takes a long drag from it, holding the smoke in like someone used to other types of smoke. When the exhalation comes, it is long and slow. She does not greet the blue mutant verbally, but after the long quiet, she nods her head upwards.
"You should be more careful," Mystique says, finally, and then she stirs in a step forward, swinging her bag free of her shoulder as she goes.
Sarah's upper lip curls slightly, showing yellowed teeth beyond it at the advice. She watches Mystique's bag swing, signs of caution only beginning to show now.
"Not that I doubt your ability to take care of yourself," Mystique murmurs, as if she had not paused. From within the bag she draws a small electronic device, almost a computer, and her attention focuses there. "But caution is always wise."
Green eyes follow the device, Marrow's gaze narrowing as she tries to puzzle out what the thing might be. She has reached a point where she does not bother trying to respond to most statements people make and Mystique's words on caution are no different. The bony mutant simply watches her.
Silence is met once more with silence, while Mystique drops the bag to the floor and pauses a moment to power the device up. After several minutes, she extends it to Sarah. It contains a small keyboard and speakers, and software that turns input into one into output from the other. It is offered without comment, although golden eyes fix firmly on Sarah.
Marrow looks at the little device for a moment wen it is held out toward her. Her expression screws up and turns ugly, but she snatches the thing out of Mystique's hand. She is not the most brillant typist, but the message comes out clearly enough. [What the fuck you want me to say]
Mystique watches all this without much expression. Her gaze flickers down to the device as it speaks, and then rises slowly back to Marrow. Silence stretches for a moment longer before she replies, "There is nothing I want you to say. I simply thought it should be your decision, whether to remain silent or to speak. "
Spellcheck is a Godsend. [Ain't a choice.] She yanks the turtleneck down to make sure Mystique can have a long, unobstruced look at the ugly scar on her throat. Marrow sneers up at her and then types again. [Can either not talk or talk like a gimp.]
"I heard," Mystique responds quietly. Her expression hardens, yellow eyes growing dim. "If I could fix the other, I would."
Zenith has changed the party! [Sun Feb 17 19:54:47 2008 CST] Come and protest the objectification of mutants on reality TV in the park! Or just cause trouble in front of the cameras! tel to Zenith to join.
There is something in Mystique's choice of phrase that brings an especially ugly smirk onto Marrow's face. She looks down at the little device in her hands and shakes her head. [You got any idea how fucking embarrassing this shit is?] The software sounds out her foul words. It kills the impact, a bit, for them to be broken down phonetically.
"Not particularly," Mystique replies dryly, her lips twisted into an unpleasant expression. "But I have a vivid imagination. I suppose I thought it might be a better option than attempting sign language."
That ugly smirk of Sarah's comes back. [I can do sign luggage.] She scowls down at the little machine when it cannot quite follow her horrendous spelling and displays her skill in signing. She raises a middle finger to it.
That earns a brief smile from Mystique, accompanied by a tip of her head. "Eloquent," she murmurs.
Marrow smirks herself and taps a fingertip to one of her horns, a mock cocky little grin being growing out of the smirk to accompany a nod of her head. [I appreciate the guest chair,] the device translates out of her horribly typing. [I don't need to talk that much. but I guess if I have to.]
Mystique tips her head, half a nod of acknowledgement. She does not say 'you're welcome.' Instead she says, "Is there anything else you need?"
Sarah shakes her head to that, ignoring the device to simply leave the gesture as it is. She takes another drag of her cigarette instead. She shrugs her skinny shoulders and leans back on the bed a little.
In the silence, the faint, dark sigh that escapes from Mystique's lips is clearly audible. She lowers herself carefully to sit on the edge of the bed, hands curled over her knees, and does not say anything.
Sarah looks sideways at Mystique for a moment as she moves to sit down nearby. She leans over and grabs up her package of cigarettes to hold it out in a companionable offer.
Mystique turns her head to consider the offer, and after a somewhat lengthy pause she dips her head in a nod, silent thank you, and leans to take the package. She taps one out with neat efficiency and tosses the pack to the bed as she takes the cigarette between her lips.
The lighter follows, just a simple disposable thing. Sarah tosses it to Mystique before sitting up and picking at one of the small, bony protrusions at her wrist. It is not a spike like the others on her shoulders and back, but simply a place where the bone has pushed out of her skin.
The lighter flares into life as Mystique puffs the cigarette to a glow and then she tosses that to the bed as well. She glances briefly at Sarah, watching her, and then exhales a circling stream of smoke.
The little voice device is tugged over and Sarah types simply, [They got worse.] She holds up her wrist so Mystique can see it, then she gives a nod toward one of her shoulders, to indicate the new growth there.
Mystique's gaze follows the lift of Sarah's wrist, and she frowns faintly as she lifts her eyes to meet Sarah's. "Do you know why?"
Silence. This one is a heavy, weighty thing, and it does not break for several breath's worth of thoughts before she wonders quietly, "Did they do anything that might cause them to grow? Outside of the stress?" Her gaze moves back to Sarah and she elaborates, "If there is any sort of medical care you need, I will provide it."
"You were there for quite some time," Mystique replies simply. The last two words result in a brief smile, but it does not last long as Mystique looks away again. "I'm sorry we did not find you sooner. They were-- exceptionally careful. And I didn't know you'd been taken at first."
Marrow looks silently at Mystique as she apologizes for not finding her. Her head tilts slightly and then she reaches over to lightly slap the back of a hand against Mystique's shoulder. It's meant to be a friendly sort of gesture, from her expression. The electronic voice speaks what her fingers type, [Not your fault. I bet Jason still don't know I'm gone.]
Oh, very friendly. One can tell from the startled look that crosses Mystique's face before she straightens and plants the cigarette between her lips. The corners tug down around it. "Jason told me," she corrects simply.
Marrow looks genuinely surprised to hear that. Her eyes blink as she looks at Mystique, expression carrying the 'huh' that her voice cannot.
"He has his moments, I suppose," Mystique says, voice dry.
A silent chuckle moves Sarah before she takes another of those long, held drags of her cigarette. She exhales it through her nose. The delay before the little machine plays out her words shows how she as thinking on what to 'say'. [When I left the Brotherhood, I never thought I'd end up praying for it to come back and help me.]
Mystique's cigarette burns between her fingers, and the corner of her jaw tightens perceptably at Sarah's words as her gaze remains forward. She remains silent.
"Life would be easier," Mystique replies, very quietly, "If that were the case."
Marrow doesn't type anything in response to that. She does, however, lay her head back and mouth the phrase 'no shit'. It is really not all that hard to lip read. She remains silent, both the surgically enforced way and in leaving the keypad alone for the moment.
Silence has become a theme of the evening, and it stretches between them once more. It's less heavy this time, but not particularly light for all that. Mystique concentrates on the smoking of her cigarette. It's a vice gone long unpracticed, but she doesn't seem to have forgotten how. After some time, she turns to glance at Sarah and wonders, "Are you staying here? I've stopped by before, but found no one."
Marrow's horned head shakes slowly. She frowns down at the little machine as it informs Mystique, [Staying with him. Just for right now.] A flush comes to her gaunt cheeks, as admitting to where she is staying makes her think uncomfortable thoughts.
The information gets an instant reaction, a sudden stiffening of muscle and posture. "With Erik." It is statement, not question, and her eyes linger bright on Marrow.
She doesn't meet Mystique's eyes. She instead, looks down at her filthy feet poking out of the cuffs of the borrowed slacks.
"Be careful," Mystique says, words and tone brief. She rises from the edge of the bed, cigarette still clamped between her fingers. "And be cautious in your expectations."
The little machine is used once more. Sarah types in two little words, before slapping the enter button and dropping the little machine onto the bed. She stands up and starts walking away as it reads out, [Just safe.] Humiliated at the reasoning why she is staying with Erik, Marrow seems to be intent on just walking away after admitting it.
"Even that," Mystique murmurs, pausing to watch Sarah as she moves. "Be careful, Sarah. And if you need something. Contact me."
Marrow lifts one hand up, thumb to her ear and pinky to her mouth, as if she were promising to call Mystique. She slinks out of the apartment and lets the door swing lazily shut behind her.
Mystique watches her leave in - surprise - silence. As the door closes, Mystique lowers herself to the edge of the bed once more. She remains there for some time, long past the end of the cigarette, before she rises and exits. The machine is left behind.
Mystique brings Sarah a present.