Simone Walcott (notaredeye) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2012-02-24 10:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | simone walcott |
Who: Simone Walcott and Open to all/many
Where: Xavier's Mansion in Westchester, IL
When: Friday morning - 2/24/2012
What: After the brutal attack on Boston and offering her services as one of the apparent X-Men, Simone has found herself stranded and without her every day luxuries and surrounded by Scott's reimbodied teammates with far too many emotions shared between herself and Scott.
Rating: PG to PG-13 give or take.
Warnings: None, though Simone may have some colorful words to share with people.
Unacceptable.
Everything was just completely unacceptable. The mere fact that they truly expected her to be happy with the conditions in which she would be sleeping had set the bar for how the rest of the stay was going to go. Deep down, behind the layers of ice and bitterness, Simone knew that she should be exceptionally grateful to these people. Though she was one of their own, mentally-speaking, they did not have to open their doors and allow her a sort of sanctuary from the insanity that was transpiring around them. The events of Boston had left a lasting impression on Simone. Yes, she had seen her fair share of spy movies, action flicks, and had faced catastrophic incidents through news reports. Seeing such things happen before your eyes, watching everything tumble and burn, smelling the debris, smoke, and death was something that one didn't forget so easily.
It would explain her mood. The ungrateful air and the scathing words were cutting, but like everyone who had witnessed, live through, suffered, and took part in the destruction and rescue, she had her reasons. Much like Scott, she was not about to divulge her feelings to just anyone, if she chose to do so at all. Simone chose the route of shutting people off and out. It was easier, in her opinion, to simply not have people around you. It was better if no one cared, right? There would be less emotion, less tears, when your time came.
Standing in the kitchen, taking in what wasn't her own pristine kitchen filled with state of the art, stainless steel appliances, frosted glass cabinets, and a granite countertop, all she wanted was coffee. A cup of strong coffee with two shots of irish cream, a half packet of Nivia, a tablespoon of half-and-half, and a drop of scotch. She saw none of that and wasn't entirely sure how to handle it.
For a brief moment, in the safety of believing she was alone, Simone let herself let out a mixed sob and sigh. She had told Ren, assured him, that she was just not cut out for these heroics.