Who: Warren + James When: Sunday morning Where: Stairwell near lobby What: Fell down the stairs; dealing with humanity
It had been an atypical Saturday night for Warren Worthington III. For starters, he hadn't left the school as he normally did for the weekend. When classes weren't in session, he tended to head into the city for parties or other social events. But with all the energy he had exerted planning the trip to Haiti, he resigned himself to the mansion and an early sleep last night. He figured perhaps Sunday he would go into town and make his rounds.
Now, Warren wasn't sure if he'd be able to even find his way to the front door. At first, Warren thought he must have gotten ill somehow overnight. His body felt heavy, worn, and hyper aware of things he never noticed - the burning on his back from his wings and the pressure on his feet from the rest of his body. As he managed to hear the talk in the halls and online, his brain slowly pieced it together. Something had happened to everyone's powers. At least, some people.
Warren wasn't one to sit around, helpless. He drug his begrudging body off the computer he was on in an empty classroom and made his way to the stairwell. He hadn't heard an announcement yet from Xavier or one of the staff and intended to get to the bottom of this situation. However, his center of balance was completely foreign. Whatever in his mutation that made his bones hollow, his eyesight keen, and gave him the balance of a hawk was now gone. Now he was an average guy again, this time burdened by the unsettling weight on his back. His wings weren't quite responding either, like dead limbs. And his vision? Well, Warren didn't remember it being this bad when he was younger. He must have gone nearsighted as he was getting older. This was the only explanation the usually graceful Warren Worthington could explain why he missed a step and fell his way to the bottom of the stairwell in the lobby. Ow.