drake roberts (iceisback) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-08-02 09:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | !marvel comics, *narrative, bobby drake |
narrative: bobby drake
Who: Bobby Drake
What: Contemplation.
Where: The X-mansion
/When: today, shortly proceeding journal entry
Warnings/Rating: A single naughty word. GASP.
This mansion was not the same one he had been in. Parts of it were familiar in an eerie way, but the small things--a different painting, a statue that had been present in the hall suddenly never having been there, tripping over a piece of furniture that wasn't supposed to be there. Or turning a corner and seeing someone he didn't recognize. Or walking down the hall to talk to Hank or Kitty or Logan to see that none of them were actually there. Even the Danger Room was a different. He had spent some time down there, but, eventually, it just seemed too bizarre.
Like Professor Xavier with hair. That was a mindfuck. Bobby was savvy enough not to mention that, although the Professor probably could tell he thought it anyway. Telepathy was crazy.
Feeling like he needed to get out, he wandered outside, flopping into the grass. Eyes half-lidded as he glanced up toward the sky, idly watching the clouds as he was left alone with his thoughts. So, this world wasn't all that familiar with mutants, but there was something called the Pulse that made mutants? His mouth formed a thin line. There may not be any anti-mutant organizations yet, but that didn't mean they weren't coming. And, if that happened, they needed to know how to defend themselves...
It would probably be a good idea to get to know his housemates a little better, right? Letting out a low sigh, he withdrew the tablet that acted as a journal and started to write.