Rooms

[Public, as anon]

I hope you kept my hat, דרלינג.


[Locked to Wanda, Pietro, and Raven separately]

Alive?


[Call to: Charles Xavier, from unknown number]

[Ring ring.]

[Locked to Charles Xavier]

[Randomly and in hurried, firm handwriting.] If I was on life support or in the hospital grievously injured, would you visit me? Despite everything?


[Locked to Raven Darkholme]

How are you?

[Locked to "Nora"]

Are you still here?

[Text to Charles Xavier]
We should have a Halloween party. A big one. The biggest ever.

[Locked to Professor X]

Hey. [This is so awkward, and the period is a bit over emphasized with force. Growls at himself before writing.]. Professor, this is Logan. I'm not sure you remember me, but I need your help. [Sigh.]

[After this.]

[Call to Charles X]
Ring!

[Locked to Preston R]
Sorry about before. It [...] I had to [...] tend to things on short notice.

[Locked to Sharon C]
Home, Agent?

[Locked to Carol D]
Sir.

[Locked to Avengers+: Banner, Stark, Thor, Romanoff, Barton, Drew, Danvers, Parker, Maximoff, Barnes, Carter, Torunn, & James]
I've been notified that Ms. Lyons, Crane's [...] accomplice, has gone [...] missing from federal custody. There is no footage or evidence of how she escaped, leading me to believe she didn't. That the hotel [...] was the cause. I'm working with the FBI, but there's no way to explain it to them. We may be expected to participate in or promote a manhunt.

[Locked to Bruce W]
Ms. Lyons is gone.

[Locked to Charles X]

Do you know anything about the mutant abductions?

[Same texts sent to Charles X and Erik L]

Apparently I'm a mother. And a grandmother. And my granddaughter is here.

......

[Charles X.]

I'm awake. I had a nightmare, I think. Something. I didn't wake anybody? The room is working?

[Steve R.]

Are you awake?

Who: Charles Xavier
What: Receiving a gift from a .... Well. From someone.
Where: His room at the X Mansion
When: The morning after this
Warnings: None in particular except for a whole lot of What the Fuck

( These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do, cuz one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you )

[Locked to Wanda Maximoff and Billy Kaplan]

[Not really sure how to start.] Hello.


[Locked to Peter Maximoff]

Where are you?

[Locked to Charles Xavier]

[Really not sure how to start here in particular. Dwells. Finally goes with the every popular.] Hello.

[Filtered to the Xavier Mansion residents]
[As Raven D]

Hi...you may have noticed that I just showed up in the house. I used to live here. I'm Raven, Charles' adopted sister.

[Erik L]

I'm there.

Who: Preston Rawlings and Charles Xavier
Where: X Mansion
When: Sometime after this
What: Trying to help this dude.
Warnings: Good manners and a lot of telepathy?

( I am eating my weight in m&ms right now )

[Filtered to Charles X]

[...] Can I come home?

Who: Brielle, Xavier, Cap
What: Collecting the criminal
Where: Gatsby. The Vega.
When: Now.
Warnings: TBD.

[It was all a blur. The doctors prescribed heroin and the band played soft jazz through the night, gentle notes that crumbled into the muffled sighs of ghosts by the time they reached the upstairs where Brielle slept in an oversized poster bed. Men had replaced the windows, and the blood stains on the floor were removed to the best of housekeeping ability, the memories of dark stains flowed seamlessly into the patterned designs in the carpet. Business carried on as usual downstairs, the bar stayed busy and the parlor stayed polished. The staff brought her food, and the doctors brought medicine, and mostly, Brielle slept.

There were headaches, lapses in time, and notes on the nightstand in handwriting she didn't recognize. The name ERIK circled in ink, pinned beneath the brass edge of a gas lamp at low flame. The bedroom was kept dim like mourning. The colorful glass of a Tiffany lampshade glowed blue and green, seaside floral like the long, sleeveless dress that Brielle wore while she sat at a mirrored vanity, fastening wormsilk curls back with beaded combs. Her reflection was sallow from painkillers and forlorn from happenstance that night. The doctors assured her that her hearing would return completely once she was fully healed, which could take weeks. In the meantime, everything sounded distorted like words spoken through walls. It might have been more bothersome if she had anyone to speak to at all. Instead, she slept.]

[Because being anonymous is so totally anonymous.]

I'm having problems controlling my ability. I'm sorry if I [...] imposed. On your privacy. Sorry.

[Luke H]

Luke I need you to contact me right away.

[Steve R]

Captain Rogers? I'm afraid I need a moment of your time rather urgently. I apologize for the inconvenience.

[As Peter M]

Always said the future would be cool. Didn't think it'd be this cool.

I HAVE PONG ON MY PHONE THIS IS AMAZING WHO AM I KIDDING!

[Marvel. Preston isn't searching, but he is nearly up from a formless dream that was, surprisingly enough, rather innocently pleasant. One is left with... something like tangible clouds of cotton candy in the mind. Sweet, obscuring, blank.

It's strongest nearest Stark Tower.]

[ETA: Closed.]

[As Annabeth M]

Any other mutants out there?

[Wren really, really didn't like the Mansion.

It was far away, and it felt like a lie. Even more than Italy, it felt like pretend, and maybe it was worse because it was almost like life. Italy wasn't living. Italy was really far in the past, and the language wasn't even right. Italy felt like a vacation, and it felt like maybe a dream. But Westchester felt like a mockery. It was a house that wasn't home, and it was furniture that wasn't hers, and it was quiet that would never, ever last. It was all make-believe, and Wren wasn't whimsical enough to pretend, not even when she was at her very least sane.

But, after the incident with Brielle, Wren knew she had to run. She couldn't go to Luke, and Jack and Evie didn't need any more trouble. She couldn't think of anywhere else, and she took a bus, phone tucked away and the hope that Luke wouldn't try to call or post to her. She wasn't sure what to tell Luke, and she wasn't sure if to tell him. Maybe they should've talked a little during their time in Italy, but she didn't want to ruin the pretend, and now she didn't know what to do.

She walked the last bit of the way, and by the time she showed up at the Mansion door she was messy and disheveled in red and ballerina flats with worn-through heels. She knocked, even though she knew she didn't have to.]