It would appear, to anyone who came to the community center tonight, that whoever had been responsible for decorating for the reunion mixer actually had some taste. The decorations were simple - white linen on the tables with gold and blue flowers as a centerpiece, and a notable lack of streamers - but there was, of course, gold and blue glitter
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Although if anyone was expecting the surly, angry teenager from back then, well, they'd be in for a surprise. Although she was still as sharp as ever.
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What? He felt that made his identity fairly obvious.
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She considered adding 'class of 2011' but really, did she want to advertise she was that old?
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At least she was wearing a dress -- a slinky white number with a belt made of tiny skulls that left pretty much nothing to the imagination. Or, well, she looked like she was wearing a dress, anyway. Which on her, was about the same thing, really.
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Sometimes, reminding himself of that fact was difficult to accomplish, when the sight of certain faces reminded him of horrors done to him by other people entirely. And, if anyone could put on a face that would remind somebody of something horrible, it was Mystique.
He didn't approach her. He didn't even dare step onto the dance floor. But he did watch her dance, frowning deeply to himself as he stood on the far side of the room.
She wasn't the same, he told himself. Around here, they were seldom ever the same.
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Over at a table off to the side of the room, Gert was working her way through some mini-quiches and the better part of a beer. Because if you had a night off from hero duty, you took advantage of it. That was just a rule.
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Well, now a days he didn't lurk at the high school. Much. Anymore. Goddamn it, just let him have his thing, people.
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