morphingmutant (morphingmutant) wrote in marvel_my_way, @ 2010-08-30 21:09:00 |
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Current mood: | confused |
Not Himself In Many Ways [plot continued from Can The Wicked Be Redeemed?]
Morph had guessed it would take him longer to fall asleep after all that had happened. Dying, hours of torture and vivisection, coming back to life, stumbling upon the friends who left him for dead in a different world - this had been an interesting day to say the least. Yet, as soon as his cheek touched the pillow, his eyes closed, and he slipped into an uneasy dream.
He climbed into an uninhabited room of Xavier's through the window. His - her, technically - blonde hair hung in his face. He had shifted form to that of a teenage girl. Why? To play a prank, of course, and escape punishment. The answer came easy, instinctively, almost, in the way it often happened in dreams, no matter how senseless the situation.
The teenage girl Morph opened the door of the room, her room, as anyone watching the security tapes would hopefully deduct, and straightened her skirt. Quite convenient no one knows who's going to appear and live in this interdimensional bedlam. Morph had invented this little mutant girl, but who could prove it? Somewhere in the universes, she probably is alive. Wasn't there a theory how everything you imagine appears in some universe... ?
These and other unrelated thoughts crossed his mind. He was happy as always when he got to cause some trouble, but not worried enough to keep his thoughts completely together. In fact, he hadn't felt that calm in a long while - almost tranquilized. Freeing Creed seemed like a good idea. Exciting was the wildest word he could find for it. Just a little prank to keep everyone on their toes.
Morph descended the stairs to the basement. He knew the way well, and he and he also knew that it was easy to get into the basement through the ventilation shaft, especially for a skinny little thing like himself right now.
Inside the dark stuffy room, he went straight for the fuse box. He put all switches to off and put on the flashlight he had brought to disable the emergency light in case it decided to kick in, or was already supporting the more important processes, such as the zero-gravity cell.
That was all. Morph had no reason to destroy anything permanently, since the preferable result of this little prank - a free Sabertooth - would occur after just a few seconds of outage. He - a student on a stupid dare who didn't know what she was doing, in case anyone noticed her on any security tapes - climbed back out of the room and walked into a toilet. There, he changed into Storm. The security cameras were dead now, but he took no chances. In the library, he changed into Morph, then returned to his room.
Morph laid down on his bed.
And immediately opened his eyes again, waking up as a gust of wind blew rain into his face through the open window. Disgruntled, Morph got to his feet and slammed the window shut. Why had he even opened it in the first place, and when? While dreaming? He remembered he had been scaling the wall, turned off electricity for some inane non-reason... whatever. Alzheimer's setting in pretty early, dear Morph, he thought to himself, yawning. Or somnambulism. Ugh, my body feels like it's shifted into lead. If I'd really scrambled about any walls in my sleep, I'd have fallen and cracked my head.
When he went back to the bed, he almost slipped on something round on the ground, but couldn't be bothered to check. He felt more tired than before going to sleep. Eyes shut again, he failed to notice that the object he had stumbled over and kicked under the bed as revenge was a flashlight.