Laura Kinney (snicklet) wrote in planetmarvel, @ 2016-08-07 20:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open, laura kinney |
Who: Laura and open to adult X-residents
When: Sunday night well after she should be in bed
Where: Xavier's School for Gifted Students - the kitchen
What: Late night kitchen run
Warnings: Potential for after-effects of trauma
To anyone else the mansion might have seemed silent and still; to Laura it was merely close enough, her heightened senses lending her awareness of the presence of so many other mutants. She more or less just tuned most of this sort of input out, leaving it for some subconscious part of her brain to manage. It would alert her as soon as anyone came close enough to be relevant. She had been dozing more than sleeping for the last couple of hours, and the room was dim but not dark with her bedside light on on the opposite side of the bed from where she was tucked, foetal and leaning against the wall. This was a good time to explore, though, or at least to retrace paths she was already in the process of memorising, because you could never know a building's layout TOO well.
She pulled the coat she'd been wearing the day she arrived on over her thin shirt and slipped out of the room nearly silently, listening to the sounds of respiration and registering the smells of relaxed people behind the other doors that lined the hall as she made her way downwards towards the kitchen. Unlike when she'd been with Zebra Daddy it was always fully stocked, no matter when she checked it. Part of her wasn't entirely sure whether that was someone's mutant power or if they really actually bought food that often instead of running things down until there was nothing left to scavenge. It seemed like that would happen fairly often with so many people in and out all the time.
She could smell one of the adults underneath all the food, but singling out the sound of footsteps from that direction told her that even if they were coming here she had some time. In her life she couldn't always afford to be risk-averse. She moved quickly, opening the fridge first and taking a pre-shelled cold boiled egg to eat in two bites while she slipped a couple of carrots into a pocket and peeled a small stack of plastic-wrapped cheese slices off a pile. In the pantry she found raisin boxes, a handy size for easy concealment, and a jar of trail mix that reminded her there were resealable bags in a drawer. Not too full, she reminded herself. It needed to be relatively flat. She hesitated at the fruit bowl before snatching a few cherries as well. Small, not overripe enough to squash easily. And too expensive to find often.
Barely a minute later she was pouring a simple glass of water as the footsteps finally reached the corridor immediately outside. She looked up expectantly as she took her first sip, her free hand wrapped around her stomach in a gesture both protective and indicative of being slightly cold.