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M (shattering) wrote in x_emplary,
@ 2008-02-04 18:35:00

Entry tags:

wanda maximoff

Monet had never aspired to be more than an art critic. She had never aspired to be an art critic for that matter. The beauty of her life was that she'd never had to aspire to be anything, especially not once her trust had come into her possession at the age of twenty-one. Aspiration was a concept forced upon her by Charles Xavier. She didn't resent it, but she did find that it had her investing time into things that she shouldn't have had but a passing interest in. She didn't have to go and get a PHD, but she was considering it. Why not? After all, she had the money.

She tapped her fingers against the floor while her other hand ran over the keypad on her computer. Her position, sprawled across the floor in the front foyer in front of the stairs, perhaps wasn't the safest, but she didn't feel particularly like moving. She was waiting for a delivery and didn't want to miss the UPS man when he arrived. There was a good chance that her fascination with furthering her education would ebb off once she had a new computer to play around with. She didn't particularly need it, but it would be nice to have something lighter when it came to lugging it around with her as she dashed to and from different art shows around the city.

The waiting killed her. She hated sitting still like this, even if it was in such a lounging manner. She simply didn't have anything else to be doing. Her danger room session was for much later in the afternoon and for her, work didn't begin until the evenings.

With thoughts of work she turned back to her computer screen. She flipped over onto her back and laid the computer on her stomach. A bit of a yank and a tug on her skirt did wonders and she was able to settle back in for another period of waiting.

[Open- Xavier's]

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shinemystar
2008-02-05 02:37 am UTC (link)

"Oh?"

Though given her state of everything, that might come out more as a moan than an 'Oh' of inquisition. Slippers slapped loosely against varnished steps as Wanda Maximoff continued her descent for breakfast -- wavy hair even wavier with thanks to her slumber and looking absolutely classless with an old white tee and a pair of micro-mini blue shorts quite effective in exposing waxed legs.

"Morning, Monet..." yawn, "Is this a new form of yoga?" so she continued her inquiry to the younger woman as she found the last few steps before Monet and sat herself there, peering at the screen through drowsy eyes.

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hallucinate
2008-02-05 02:47 am UTC (link)

Aspirations were like goals, but with a slight tinge of dreams. So, in Pietro's mind, completely pathetic and not worth his time. Either he had goals, things to achieve by a certain date and time following a certain path or he didn't, no aspirations for Pietro. A waste of time, actually. And time was money, and all that. Pietro had a highschool diploma, well, the equivalent of a highschool diploma and no further education. It wasn't that important to him, he didn't need it to get far in life - he was far in life, REALLY far and without a college diploma. Pietro's a walking billboard for taking the path less walked, or however the fuck that saying goes.

Speaking of path walked, Pietro had been deep in thought (okay, more like wondering about really inane things) when he bumped into the sitting form of his sister. Great. He cursed, naturally and caught his step. Pietro looked first at his sister, then at Monet with a sort of amazement, the kind reserved for strange animals in the zoo, he said, "Why are you congregating on the stairs? And in my way?" Not, what are you doing on the floor little girl, are you sick? But why was she in his way.

"Put a shirt on, Wanda," he commented almost out of habit to Wanda after noting her dress (or, lack there of). "There are chairs you know, in designated sitting areas, out of people's way as they try to move about their day."

	shattering 2008-02-06 01:20 am UTC (link)
	"Like a python gets better as he sits in the sun all day, right," Monet said. She couldn't possibly lie and say she and Pietro were best friends and she'd stopped putting much effort into developing a relationship with him a good deal of time ago. She closed her laptop and pushed herself up from the ground. "Breakfast, yes. I've been awake since five." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)