WHO: Jean Grey/Phoenix OPEN TO: Bobby Drake/Iceman and Kitty Pryde/Shadowcat AND ANY OTHER X-MEN SHOULD WE SUDDENLY PROCURE SOME. WHEN: September 24th, morning. WHERE: X-Mansion. WHAT: Reunion! Possible orgy. Just kidding. OR AM I?! No really, I am. Kidding.
"Jesusfuckingchrist." Jean cradled her throbbing left hand in her right, body seizing up in sudden pain, long red locks falling in front of her face and obstructing her vision, thus making her even more aggravated, and this, this was not a good start to the day. First of all, the best part of waking up was FOLDGERS in your cup, not DEAD SPIDERS in your cup (apparently neither Emma nor Kitty were big coffee drinkers and therefore the tin had started collecting dust and yes, very crunchy dead spiders -- Jean couldn't imagine Emma buying economy brand anything, and she was sure Kitty preferred orange juice, so she supposed it made sense, but foregoing a morning cup of joe did not a happy Jean Grey make).
Secondly, the elevator had stopped working. Thirdly, well, when it eventually started up again after a few well-placed kicks, it kinda freaked out and Jean's hand got caught in the crossfire.
"You're supposed to sense motion, you bastard," She had spat towards the inanimate object, and quickly she descended back into the kitchen, grabbed a packet of frozen peas from the freezer and dabbed at the rapidly swelling flesh of her hand. Blowing hair from her eyes with a grumble, she wished dearly that this jerk of an alternate universe would cut her a break.