Marvel: Art of War

Who: Warren, Shiori, and BB!Kitty
What: Adventures in babysitting and dealing with an over-night sex change
When: November 28, 2011
Where: Various places in the institute
Warnings: Maybe language, but I doubt it
Status: Open; In progress


( Read more... )

Who: Joshette and Bobby
What: Morning!
When: November 27th
Where: Their room
Rating/Warnings: Hah! Yeah, not really.
Status: Open | Complete

( If you're gonna be two-faced at least make one of them pretty. )

Who: Chloe Markson and Warren Worthington III
What: A panicked phone call
When: November 18th, 2011
Where: Chloe's apartment / the Institute
Rating/Warnings: Negative
Status: Closed, unless someone's going to steal Warren's phone | Complete

( It's times like this I wish I still had my scarf. )

Who: Rahne, Josh, Bobby/Warren, Megan/Dale/Jean-Paul, and whoever else wants in!
What: Experiencing some strangeness ;)
When: 2011!!!!
Where: Mansion
Ratings/Warnings: Possibly language?
Status: Open | Complete

( What the bloody buggering hell is going on?! )

Who: Scott Summers and his X-Force
What: Phase 2. Worst Fears. Scott Summers is Magneto
When: Early November
Where: Wilderness of Alaska.
Rating/Warnings: Scott is a whole new dude, anything goes.
Status: Open to any X-man who followed Scott or wants to be involved; [In Progress]

( That guy is scared of me. )

Who: Witty, Karren, and any other X-Men who want to join the super detectives. (Also Josh who was very persistent about helping)
What: Investigating the assassination attempt
When: A day after Scott called his meeting. (So about 3 days post-BOOM)
Where: Library; Haus von Xavier
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for the usual language
Status: Open(ish) | In progress

( Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending. )

Who: Chloe and Warren
What: Exercise
When: 3:00 sharp
Where: By the lake
Rating/Warnings: Mild language
Status: Open to anyone wandering the grounds, Complete

( If he didn't show up on time, Chloe was leaving without him. )

Who: Haylie Collins, any other poor unfortunate soul that stumbles upon her
What: Someone may have accidentally consumed one or two of Alison's brownies.
When: October 5th, 1963
Where: Xavier Institute; Front lawn
Rating/Warnings: Swearing and craziness?
Status: Open; In Progress

( Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high~ la dee da da da da~ )

Who: Kitty and Warren
What: A coffee run, catching up
When: 8am
Where: en route to cafe
Rating/Warnings: N/A
Status: Open | In Progress

It was early, but he'd already had his wing stretches that morning in time to catch the sunrise. Sometimes he missed staying in his home in San Fran and seeing the sunset over the Pacific. Or his home in Colorado. Witnessing the sun come over the Rocky Mountains was majestic glory. Though he preferred to fly, sometimes it made more sense to take the car. His modest Ferrari purred on the autumn leaf littered roads, bringing them to one of his favorite, if not the closest, cafe bistro's in the state. When you drove a Ferrari, everything seemed close.

He had the top down and some tunes on the radio and shot Kitty a smile in the passenger seat. "Do you want to drive us back when we're done?"

Who: Wade and Warren
What: good natured (mostly) fighting
When: before Warren's manicure around 1pm, Weds. afternoon
Where: Outside the School, past the hedge maze
Rating/Warnings: Swearing, maybe blood, testosterone ;)
Status: Open | Complete

Jeans, bare feet, shirtless torso, white wings flapping, Warren hovered in the air, looking for the little bastard with the mouth. He wanted to pound him into the ground a few times before his appointment. It wasn't for a pedicure OR a manicure, he was meeting with an old friend to help groom his wings. They took a lot of work to maintain, dammit. It wasn't just a rinse and let dry. He had to pull pin feathers, keep flight feathers in good condition, clean the skin that covered his wing bones under the soft aerial fluff. And it was much easier to do this with someone else.

He turned slowly, surveying the ground, keen senses on the lookout for the blademaster.