Marvel, Rebirth:

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

"Who knows... He has many bad memories of that place that could easily be triggered by an old student.. Maybe we shouldn't talk about it?"

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Romulus)

 

"Rest assured, I shan't bring it up if he doesn't. I respect the man a bit too much for that."

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

The vampire smiled and nodded a bit. "Yes... He is troubled enough as it is."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Ric owned so many jackets.

 

He had scheduled a dinner appointment with Romulus tonight, and intended to dress as such; Lacey, his pretty, brunette secretary, had selected a baker's dozen worth of articles that paired well with any number of the shirts Alaric wanted to wear. He would forsake dress shoes for some of his more well-made boots, and going around the Manor in a t-shirt was one thing, but a dinner appointment without a black dress shirt and jacket would simply not do. Trying on a less tight fitting coat, he examined it in the mirror before shrugging it off into Lacey's hands. "I definitely prefer the tighter fit," he told her, and she dutifully hooked four jackets onto the lip of his full body mirror. He was barely surprised when he looked up; a black-haired girl, no older than Ashlynn, stood in the mirror, gazing wistfully at his reflection. When he blinked, a fireball of a girl, orange eyes and orange hair and arrogant white smirk stood in her place, and with every step she took she flickered into a different phantom. Humble, then prideful; insecure, then arrogant; dark and light, then light and dark. Ghosts in the mirror. Ghosts can't hurt you unless you let them. They pass right through you if you keep your wits about you.

Ghosts, and wit, and the empty courage of a dead man walking: this was the sum of Alaric James Carlisle, who had gone from keg stand to kingship in the space of two years.

Lacey must have seen her employer's wry, tired smirk when she came back, because she put her hand to his forehead. "You're running a fever, Mr. Carlisle," she said, as she had said so many days before. "Are you sure you're feeling well? As of late you've been--"

"I've been fine," he assured her, with a soft but commanding voice that cut through her worries and trepidations like a knife through butter. "I'm just tired, Lacey. Nothing that won't go away with time." Ghosts always have to go away sometime. Nothing is haunted forever. Not even Hellfire. Idly, he picked out a blazer that caught his eye and slipped it on. Instantly, it felt right. Like Tara felt, back at Vegas, came the unbidden thought, and the ghost's smirk sharpened, then blurred, then faded with the rest of her. He buttoned the blazer and nodded once in approval.

Lacey didn't move. "Sir...if you don't mind me--if..."

"Never, Lacey."

"...How do you do it?" she asked meekly. "I've been your secretary for over a year now, and all the things...I don't know how you keep it together. I couldn't keep it together." Bourbon, he wanted to joke, but that wouldn't have assured her at all. She would have taken him seriously. He was tired of everybody treating him like he had a problem. As if I didn't already know. As if I wanted it revealed. Bad enough he was keeping the club from turning against Anberlyn and ripping her wings out before throwing her from the roof. These people were cutthroat.

"I find something to live for, Lacey," he said, unbuttoning his blazer, buttoning it again, and pushing his hair away from his eyes inside the mirror. "One day at a time."

His secretary nodded dutifully and took the remaining jackets. For a few seconds he thought she was going to continue on her way, but the poor girl stopped at the door, and found the courage somewhere in her to turn around and ask, "And tonight, sir?"

"Tonight," he said, grinning and turning around, "I'm having steak for dinner. Good a reason as any."

His secretary managed a weak smile at that, blew him a kiss, and walked quickly out the door. This time, the ghost he thought of was blonde, and more likely to kill him than most other ghosts. But he pushed her from his head all the same, and went to work on taming his hair.

-Tyler

Edited January 26, 2014 by Aegon Targaryen

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Romulus)

 

"I do believe you mentioned your skill at combat earlier Ms. Rosewood." Romulus smiled. "As there is some time remaining before dinner....and as we have established that Alaric would prefer not having his past dragged out before him, that rather cancels the need to inform him of our doings. Or at least means it's best put off until dinner itself. A friendly duel betwixt friends wouldn't be much of a security risk, doubly so if it is taking place in the manor itself."

 

OOC: Just gonna say this.

 

Tyler, you need to write a book. Along with some other people whose posts I've been reading.

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

"Here we are... Home sweet home." She said as she got out, tossing the keys to the valet. "I'll catch up with you at dinner." And with that, she disappeared inside to Ric's room.

 

A few moments later...."You know... Your hair isn't that bad messy." A provocative voice said from the doorway of Alaric's room.

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Romulus)

 

Romulus smiled, more out of habit then anything else. It didn't take Sun Tzu to determine where Lynae was rushing off too. She never seemed to miss a chance to flirt with the Black King. Ah well. He did have some paperwork to get through, an interrogation to oversee, a few election funds to increase...an Emperor's work was never done.

Edited January 26, 2014 by Basilisk

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"It didn't look too bad short, either," he remarked. "How all of you let me go so long without at least a cursory trim is beyond me."

 

He stepped away from the mirror with a belt hanging from each hand, coiled like serpents; one was fine white leather and the other black, each rising above the other towards chest level and falling as he thought it over. Finally he slipped on his boots and tried the white leather belt on through the loops of his black pants. His waist level adornment and all below it went handsomely with the black dress shirt and blazer arranged neatly on his bed, and with the black undershirt he was currently sporting. As he stretched, the small slits over his shoulder blades (designed for his wings, if he saw fit to stretch them) stretched too, revealing a small peek at the pale, flawless skin of Carlisle's back.

 

"Seems like the white would be a bit of an attention grabber against all this black," he noted to himself. "What do you think?"

 

"Hmmm.." She seemed to purr as she walked toward him, inspecting him much like a lioness would her prey. "You look very handsome." She decided.

 

"Yeah, but what about the belt?" he asked with a pronounced pout. "I'm not going to be letting my wings hang out at dinner like some tramp, and they're the only other white I have."

Her fingers slowly traced the belt and she tilted her head. "It's very nice."

"Is the black nicer?" he deadpanned.

"It would be biased for me to say, I'm more partial to black... But currently I do like the white."

Be that way, he mouthed cheekily, and took several steps back to admire the white. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he felt his wings slowly breach his shoulder blades, curling out from inside his hollow bone structure and unfurling so that he could take a more expansive look. "It looks better with the wings out," he sighed regretfully. "But I'll take it."

He folded up the black belt and tossed it into his chair.

-Tyler

Edited January 26, 2014 by Aegon Targaryen

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

She gazed at him in silence for a moment before smiling. "They are very beautiful." She said as she sat on the foot of his bed.

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

I sudden thought came to me, gripping my heart with anxiety. What if some of the people here were in the library? Would they recognize me somehow?

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Why? They're just belts."

 

"I meant the wings," Lynae said, eyes rolling, and Alaric turned his level gaze back to the mirror again to look at them. They were large, white and beautiful like Lynae said; when Ric was a kid his father had used to let him touch his own, gently, let him feel every feather and understand how they work. He'd wanted a pair of his own so badly, wouldn't care that they might make him look like a freak, or that maybe they'd turn out to be a bit more hassle than he wanted if he didn't have a way to hold them down or will them away. He didn't think about what a pair of wings might mean, all he thought about was flying, being free, ruling the skies with his father. The first time he'd met Ashlynn, he'd loved her wings. He'd told her as much. He had been trying to grow a pair in the courtyard. He'd wanted to impress her, or maybe Hank, or maybe even Warren. He'd wanted to be a real Worthington.

 

The memory was a spark, a ghost. Ashlynn, Taralynn, Bekah, Brooklyn, John, Matt, the kids from the Institute, Hank's new X-Men, Hank, Warren himself. They sucked at his energy and lent it to their own spectres, drank in his blood and his hate and his love and his loss, and grew stronger by the day while he wasted away to a shade. The list of things to live for ran out with each phantom; tomorrow, perhaps a steak dinner would be waiting in his mirror. I have to let it go. Home was the taste of bourbon on his tongue after he'd finished his shot. Home was when he dreamed of Ashlynn, or maybe Tara, or maybe even his sister Brooklyn, cuddling with her and reading a story when she had a nightmare about Weapon-X, and woke up with just a pillow in his arms. Home was a white belt in a black wardrobe, and it had no place there.

 

"I wish I could cut them out," he said hoarsely, and his wings slid into his back with such a sudden shock that his chest jolted, like he'd been smacked with a defibrillator.

 

Home was gone as soon as it had come, and he slipped into his dress shirt and blazer effortlessly to turn to her, watching him in silence.

 

"The reservation kicks in in about an hour and a half. Got an outfit?"

 

The black belt sat alone on the chair as they flicked the light off and departed the room, and it drank in the darkness Alaric left behind.

 

-Tyler

Edited January 26, 2014 by Aegon Targaryen

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

She gently wrapped her arms around him, concerned a bit as she saw how he reacted when his wings slid in.

 

"I was hoping you'd help me there." She said as they walked to her part of the mansion, the only noise after she spoke was her black heels on the cold floor.

 

Once they reached her room, Lynae threw open the door to her walk in closet and sighed. "So many things to choose from.." She paused in front of a light blue dress, one that matched her eyes. Her fingers gently caressed its gentle fabric and she sighed.

 

"Tell me Ric, do you know what Lynae means?"

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Not particularly. I slept through all my foreign language classes."

 

"It means little blue flower.. And now all I wear is black like I'm in eternal mourning."

Alaric had a lot to say to that, but the words had long since slipped away from him, and he had long since up chasing them. "I like the dress."

"The blue one?" She said as she pulled it out, holding it up to herself.

"Yeah."

She smiled as she turned her back to him. "Unzip me please?"

Alaric's eyebrows raised, but he stood up and walked over to Lynae gracefully, unzipping her dress smoothly with a smirk. "Tell me you're not getting prom flashbacks right now."

"I never went to prom." She whispered as she slowly let it fall down to the floor before stepping into the blue.

Ric looked up sharply as he zipped the blue dress and tilted his head. "Wait. You serious? Almost eight hundred years alive, and you've never been to prom? Even I was a prom king back in '06."

She turned around, the blue dress making her seem somewhat innocent as it hugged her body. "No ones asked me.." She said, looking almost perplexed. "I've been to balls and all... But not prom."

Ric's brow furrowed at that, but he held out his hand all the same and let Lynae take it. "We have a reservation to make."

-Tyler

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

The woman nodded, taking his hand as he lead her away. "Shouldn't we get Romulus?"

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Wouldn't hurt to carpool. Environment and all."

 

-Tyler

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Romulus)

Romulus was down in his office, behind a few layers of security, lackeys and one elderly secretary. He considered the last his most effective defense. She’d been the type of librarian who’d thrown bricks through the windows of those with overdue books. Arrayed before him was the polling for more than a few officials. HYDRA’s attacks had shattered confidence in more than on politician and Romulus was there to capitalize on it. With any luck, the British Prime Minister would owe him more than a few favors, a few freshmen senators would be eating out of his hand and last but certainly not least, the next governor of New Jersey would count him as a trusted friend.

“Imperator?”

Romulus looked up at his secretary, who was shuffling up with another stack of papers. “Ah. The intelligence transcripts from the Congo?”

“Doesn’t look good sir.”

“It has been quite a while since that part of the world has looked good. “

“Mm.”

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

The vampire sighed as she held his hand tightly, tugging him toward Romulus' office.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"You deal with the secretary. Lacey's one thing, but this woman goes for the throat. I've seen her in action."

 

-Tyler

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

Lynae scoffed at the name Lacey, what dumb name was that anyway? She slowly walked up to the secretary, smiling.

 

"Good evening Miss. We are here to retrieve the White King for dinner."

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC

Cassandra G. Thistledown looked up at the visitors. She had the type of gaze that turned everyone in front of it back into children who’d just eaten paste in class. Silently she produced, seemingly, every piece of paper that could possibly be linked to this request. “You’ll need to do some paperwork first. Furthermore, I need to see the credentials of the restaurant, triple-check it with Homeland Security, ensure that the owners fill out all proper forms and-“

“That is quite alright Mrs. Thistledown.” Romulus shot an easy smile at his best defense as he exited his private office. “This was planned some time ago.”

Shooting one last glance at the highest ranking men and women in Hellfire, Thistledown sighed. “Fine.” She said this in such a way that implied this was the exact opposite of fine.

Edited January 26, 2014 by Basilisk

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

The Black Queen rolled her eyes as she returned to Alaric's side. "Yes yes... Come along Rom, my dear. We have a reservation to keep."

Edited January 26, 2014 by Rawrmouse

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC

Thistledown shifted her gaze to Lynae, in a way that assured her that yes, it was quite possible she would be getting a brick through her window tonight. “Yes, I imagine we do.” He’d managed to get some work done at the very least, the rest would have to wait for tomorrow. The would-be Emperor made to follow his fellow royals out to the parking lot.

Edited January 26, 2014 by Basilisk

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

"When we return tell Thistledown that if she even thinks of trying to deface my property in anyway, she'll be missing a cat." Lynae hissed to Romulus.

[shadow pridak money gang]

OOC: Jam with Kaithas.

IC:

Betsy's fingers always left trails in his hair. Warren cursed.

He stood before the mirror, soul bared and hair ruffled; it was damp from coming out of the shower, and it didn't stick out as overtly as it did some mornings, but no comb nor fingertips would ever tame it on a first, second, or third attempt - besides, of course, Betsty's. And she clearly wasn't going to be much help at all. Deigning to leave it in a semi-professional, semi-ruffled look that was pushed along his brow, he slipped into the button up he'd taken off the rack before their shower and walked out into the bedroom of his quarters. Psylocke was lounging on the bed in a bathrobe that looked made of snow, white and soft looking. Her hair hair was much neater than his, long and dark, casting over the white sheets and pillows like a violet halo.

"How do I look?" he asked, straightening his collar.

"Dashing," she beamed. "But every kid in the school is going to take one look at you and ask how the sex was."

Warren cursed.

"Don't be bothered. It's not like the plumbing is sound proof."

"Could you at least fix my hair?" Warren asked, falling backwards down onto the bed again and putting his head near Psylocke's hands. "You're good with hair."

 

Betsy fiddled with his hair for a second, mussing it, then started fixing it. "Maybe you should get a job at a salon," he suggested; Warren's continued tongue-in-cheek employment suggestions had become a subject of verbal duels over the months. "You're a natural."

 

"If I did, how would you cover up your affairs with hairdressers?"

 

Warren grinned at Betsy and rolled a lock of her own hair around his finger as he sat up in bed and slipped a belt through the loops in his pants. "I always find a way. For instance - I've started doing my work downstairs. Kids are scared of coming up here now."

Betsy sat up too, sticking her tongue out at him. "How could they possibly be scared of those psychic waves?"

"It's not just the waves. You're a psychic ninja who spends most of the day lounging around up here in a bathrobe. They're teenagers. Why do you think they're scared?"

 

"Could also be because I'm a zombie."

"I'm no expert, but I don't think that's quite it."

"Meh. I am an expert on zombiedom though. And psychic ninjas."

"As it happens, I am too," Warren shot cheekily. "The only one I know has been kind of bumming off the hospitality of her boyfriend for as long as I can remember, and she's a fierce sort of creature. Terrible when aroused."

Betsy's features scrunched up and she stuck her tongue out again, and the headmaster smiled and leaned backwards across the bed to kiss the contorted mask that had become her face. "But I love her anyway. Lord knows why."

"Maybe you just have a thing for resurrected psychic ninjas."

"Isn't there a job you should be stopping me from doing?"

"I could, but then you'd get accused of not caring about the institute again."

"I already get accused of not caring about the Institute. Someone has been convincing me to take sick days for a week at a time when I live just on the top floor."

"Oh, just blame someone else. That'll win you a lot of friends."

"I'll never win with you, Betsy."

"No, you won't, Warren. I've got you wrapped around my little finger and you're staying there."

"Don't test me." Warren's mouth slanted up in a smirk. "Alright. Fine. In that case, I gotta go to work."

 

"Go then. Just leave me here by myself. I'm sure I'll find something to do."

 

"Elizabeth Braddock, there are times when I'm not sure whether I hate every move you make, or whether I love you more than I've ever loved anything in the world."

 

"Well, you were certainly happy to see me, so I'd lean more toward the second."

"You're going to leave me feeling used one day," he teased.

"Tis better to feel used and actually live than not and to have never tried," Betsy said, imitating a pompous English professor quoting a book.

"There's an idea. You could be an English teacher."

"I could, but a psychic ninja as an English teacher would be too interesting."

"Lunch lady?" Warren pressed her. "I think you'd look hot in a hairnet."

"Still too interesting." Betsy moved a strand of black hair out of her face and into the purple-tinted whole. "Besides, grease is bad for hands."

"Okay, fair point. Now, are you going to force me to take another day off, or can I go?"

"You can go. I'll find something to do that won't harm students."

"Get a job, Braddock," Warren repeated, kissing her again quickly and pushing himself off the bed onto his feet. "See you later. Love you."

"I love you too. And my job is keeping you out of line. See ya later." Betsy waved, sitting crisscross on the bed. Warren rolled his eyes and left his bathrobe-clad soulmate behind as he walked downstairs, ready to step back into the line of fire as headmaster of the Xavier Institute. Betsy Braddock counted on her fingers, bobbing her head back and forth and restarting the count now again.

Warren was back within an hour.

"It's a madhouse out there."

-Tyler

Edited January 26, 2014 by Aegon Targaryen

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Romulus)

 

"My dear Ms. Rosewood, if you pick a fight with her cats, I cannot be held responsible for what happens to you. That woman lives in one of the worst parts of town. She has for years. The only possible reason I can up with is that she's still alive because the local gangs are scared of her." Romulus smiled, though it still wasn't clear if he was joking or not. "But I see no reason to let this spoil a lovely dinner."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"I think her eyes turned golden at me," Ric said, looking over his shoulder every couple seconds. "Like Palpatine in his duel with Yoda."

 

-Tyler

[Eevee]

IC: Lynae

 

The vampire crossed her arms, rather displeased at the moment. Yet, she remained silent, letting the men lead her.

[Havelock Vetinari]

OOC: To move thing along-seems like we were stalling. If anyone had a simply massive post planned, I’ll gladly edit this into a post about Thistledown throwing a brick through a window.

I

C (Romulus)

 

Romulus would say this for New York, the attack had, at the very least, thinned out the traffic as the less jaded inhabitants got out of town as quickly as they could. It brought to mind a certain piece saying he’d heard once. ‘Beware of seemingly gentle people, the meek here left long ago.’ Time would tell if it held accurate, but as it stood, they were pulling into the parking lot and his stomach was starting hint darkly at a future revolt if it wasn’t fed soon.

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"Hmm?" Tera asked, glancing down and to her left, craning her neck as she withdrew the silverware needed for the meal. "I'm sorry, dear. I haven't been trying to ignore you, I'm just trying to keep track of everything."

 

"What can I do for you?"

 

OOC: First off, Thistledown is the best secretary of all time.

 

Second, kinda lackluster post, but I just finished debating for twelve hours solid, and it's late. My other characters will get a better reintroduction/post soon, soon defined, most likely, as "tomorrow".

[Snelly]

IC: 'Jess'

 

By the time Gabriel was done redressing Jess was already passed out, sleeping peacefully.

Edited January 26, 2014 by Yoko Littner

[25K Now!]

IC: Gabriel

 

"Bzzz," snored Gabe.

[AuRon the champion]

Ic:

 

"What's all the stuff that is not numbers?" Trinity asked, holding up the dictionary.

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

We were in a wooded area now, so I slid the bag I had tied around my front leg and flipped it open to reveal my clothes inside. This was just my way of asking Ashley to please get off so that I could change.

[Snelly]

IC: Katherine "Kitty" Pryde

 

Kitty lead the way toward Warren's office yet again, since the headmaster never seemed to come out of there in the first place, it was logically the only place he could be.

 

They stopped at a door that was clearly the entrance to the office and Kitty gave the door a good rap. If that didn't work, Kitty could always phase her head through the door like last time.

 

IC: Ashley

 

"Ohhhh you don't want to be a wolf anymore?" She almost sounded like she was disappointed. "Okay!" She slid off Sierra from the side, giggling a bit as she did so.

 

"You can go find some place to change, will wait for you here!"

Edited January 26, 2014 by Yoko Littner

[Eevee]

IC: Lilliana

 

"Are there many positions open here?" Lilliana asked Kitty as they waited outside of the Headmaster's office.

[25K Now!]

IC: Mikhail

 

"Letters," explained Mikhail mid-way through putting another pancake on a plate. "They are arranged together to form words phonetically."

Edited January 26, 2014 by Totally Prodigious Artist

[Flex Lord Splash]

IC: Mimic

 

Christine looked at Dallas once he'd been dropped off. "Glad to have yah back Dallas. So did Nicole really capture you?"

[Blair the Cat]

IC:

 

I disappeared into the woods to change and get dressed. A few seconds later I returned to the group, carrying an empty bag.

 

"Much better."

[25K Now!]

IC: Gabriel

 

Gabriel slowly rolled over onto Jeff.

[AuRon the champion]

Ic:

 

"Oh! How do they work? Can you show me?!"