the department of mutant affairs

When Alison woke up on a park bench in Central Park, it was with a pounding headache. And a really bad taste in her mouth. Her first assumption was that she'd done a little too much partying and that it had come back to bite her in the ass. It wouldn't be the first time. Probably wouldn't be the last either. But, god damn, she had escorts and bodyguards for a reason.

Sitting up slowly, she found herself blinking and taking in her surroundings, faint memories of the Academy trickling back to her. And that was it. Aside from seeing an explosion go off, she didn't remember anything else. Which, really, if she hadn't been at a club and drinking too much, begged the question of how she'd ended up here.

Probably some crazy teleporter or something. Val really should have warned her about something like this.

Getting up, she stretched, looking around for someone who might be able to give her the time, and set eyes on people who had stopped and were now pointing at her. Like they'd seen a ghost.

"...oh my god, she's alive!"

"...is that Dazzler? Give me your phone so I can take a picture!"

"...maybe it just looks like Alison Blaire. You're all crazy."

Alison was starting to feel like she was a little bit crazy, forgetting about checking the time and, instead, pushing her way through the crowd that was starting to form before it could get any worse.

At the very least, she figured that she needed to check in with Val.