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disabled complexes [23 Feb 2008|09:00am]
He was careful to make sure the silence of the kitchen wasn't broken as he set his white cup down on the table top, smoke wafting from the warm content of it as he sighed and leaned on his good hand whose good elbow was on the mahogany. In one word, Shiro sulked. Despite Jean's good efforts, his tummy still hurt if he wasn't too careful with the way he moved and worse, his left arm was in a sling because of a bloody bad thumb.

So much for thinking he could catch a bone like a baseball...

The nth sigh escaped from Shiro's lips as he was reminded of his latest match and he scratched his head then moved his fingers towards his notebook's trackpad; e-mails and YouTube were the in-thing today. The news, one he had been so fond to read whenever he started his day, was not. Fresh from the mission (if you could even call it one), he considered it a bad memory and wanted nothing more than to forget about it and just move on. Because of that, the idea of skipping work did not really settle nicely with him since it meant skipping a mundane life which did not have a Shiro who was also known as Kamuro who went into battle and lost to a bloody boy.

A bloody boy.

But Jean was keen to make sure he didn't go to work.

That had done nothing but make Shiro feel the general suck of losing gnawing on his skin. How was that possible? Last he knew, he was in check with his danger room sessions (and ate well and slept well...or close-to-well) but to lose to his half-cousin? Who was most possibly a decade younger than him? He despised the idea that he was getting on his years, thirty-three isn't a very old age.

...but who lost to a boy like that?

And what did he do wrong? He'd used his powers the way he knew how to use them best, hadn't he? How did that not work at all?

His head fell on the table with a low thud, right arm still stretched towards his notebook. If anything, skipping work for the day had only made him decide that in a few week's time and as soon as he's all better, he is going to treat the danger room like it was his lover.

[ Open to: Anyone within the X-Mansion ]
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[23 Feb 2008|11:12am]
"You'll have to excuse my language, but your team got their asses handed them wrapped up a neat little packages. That wolf of yours is wearing a gift tag and it's signed 'Erik Lensherr and Friends'. The area around the school is destroyed because that girl has no sense of control, Hank was on that mission for God knows what reason, you've got your team leader's girlfriend sending him out of battle, and you've got – oh, hell, forget it. Who's bright idea was it to go out on a mission with a leader who couldn't speak and no co-captain to translate?" Emma Frost was fuming ever so slightly, though one might not have known it if they hadn't looking at the cup of tea in her hands and seen that it had turned completely to ice.

To his credit, Charles Xavier did notice the frozen liquid and offered her the teapot that sat on the desk between them. "Calm down, Emma. You make a valid point, but given the situation we had little choice but to act. We underestimated Erik and from what I can tell the winged girl wasn't accounted for. But I wouldn't advise bringing up anyone else's lack of control while you have a block of ice sitting in your hands."

"Don't start with me, Charles." Emma proceeded to freeze the teapot as well, this time purposely. "What happened out there? If you're not prepared for a girl with wings and blades then hell, I guess we're lucky the fucking elephant wonder twins didn't show up to the party."

"I worry less about the elephants than I do the one with wings," he said simply, steapling his hands atop his desk. "I admit, the mission wasn't at all our best. There were several things we should have done differently, including having Ororo or Warren there to assist, but the core of the mission was successful even if we did incur injuries. The protesters were kept safe, along with the school's students."

"That's the other thing." With Emma there was always something else. "Saving FOH protesters, Charles? What the hell are we doing playing bodyguard for the Friends of Humanity? They hate us, in case you'd forgotten."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Yet they seemed to value our protection when it came down to it, or hadn't you noticed? We help those in need, especially when they're being threatened by other mutants."

"Especially when they're being threatened by Erik's mutants," she muttered, brushing blonde hair back from her face. She was officially in a mood. Pink lips turned into a deep frown as she pushed back away from Charles' desk and stood from the ornate wooden chair where she'd been sitting. "It's not like when I was here anymore."

"No, you're very right," Charles answered, his voice even as he looked up and met her eyes. "The level of team camaraderie has improved since the school moved to Salem."

There was a moment of silence as Emma digested the fact that she'd just been trounced by her former teacher. She would never ever be accused of being the most approachable person in the world – she'd always been rather prickly and hard to get along with – but it wasn't something Emma herself was ever going to admit and while she didn't care that the students at Salem routinely called her a hardass and a bitch, she didn't like being called out on by her peers or elders.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, pulling a piece of folder computer paper out of her purse and dropping it down onto Charles' desk. "Here's the list." It was all she'd really come for in the first place, to deliver the list of students from Salem who'd either shown potential or interest for becoming an X-Man. Staying for tea and a chat had simply been an extra time waster and obviously horrible idea. "I'm going to have a workout and then I'm going back."

Xavier simply nodded. "Have a safe trip, and please try to leave my team in one piece."

Emma gave a short acidic laugh as she turned and exited the professor's office. Looking rather annoyed, she walked out into the foyer and immediately made for the stairs which led down into the subbasement. She didn't stop to see if Jean or Hank were in their offices to say hello or make pleasant chatter, instead making straight for the elevator which led down to the lowest level. She practically punched the buttons permanently into the keypad as she typed in the code to allow her access to the elevator and all but stalked over to the uniform closets once the elevator doors opened to reveal them.

It only occurred to her as she was pulling on the leather that she wanted to fight someone real, and not just the obstacles the Danger Room would put in front of her. She was extremely well trained in hand to hand combat and sometimes beating a person to a pulp was simply a better outlet for her aggression than freezing them. It was too late now to go back upstairs and demand that someone fight her. She would just have to hope someone was already practicing.

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business as usual...as usual as can be [23 Feb 2008|01:18pm]
Kevin had no qualms about being a mutant. Well, when he was but a kid, of course he did. But after everything his powers had shown him, he'd grown to love being mutant and got to understand how natural being one was.

But if there was one thing he hated for being super...it was the fact that mutants recognized no holidays.

Or at least society did not give them special holidays. Even after that strenous protest activity, Kevin had to haul himself off his bed and force himself to work. After midday now, he was sitting on a red-cushioned bench just in front of a door that was left ajar. Voices seeped from the inside of the office.

Wincing on his seat, he arched his back and grunted. his arms up; it still felt pretty bad after he'd collided with the brick wall and not to mention, his shoulder was rather sore. Thank God it was winter and it wasn't stupid to wear narrow collars.

Footsteps started towards the door, Judas the Secretary appeared from the inside, "Mr. Ford?"

Promptly, Kevin dropped his arms and sat up straight (and oh, did that ache some). He looked up to the redhead, smiled quickly then stood up when he gestured for him to come inside the office. He slid the manila envelope off the bench as he did this and with a slight jog, he started towards the door, preparing a good mood.

[ Open to: Jubilee ]
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