Queen of the Hurricane; Storm (hurricaneborn) wrote in x_2012, @ 2010-11-13 14:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | storm |
Most of them show signs of Usefulness
Who: Storm [narrative]
When: Saturday Morning
Where: The Unknown Facility
What: Storm awakens and begins to consider how she intends to handle this situation.
Storm raised her head to look in the direction of her door, the door to her cell. She did not like that word at all. Cells were for prisons and terror, they were not places for women who would be heroes. Then again, Storm aspired not so much to be a hero as to do what was right by her own measuring stick. Questionable decisions occurred occasionally, but they were easily explained based on her own moral code. With a fluid motion, she levered herself up off the floor and went to the door. Pressing her ear against it, she listened. The voices sounded too far away.
Her first reaction was to draw up the air, see if she could draw the sounds closer to her. It was doable, she had done it before. Then she had powers. Now she had none. There was an ache in her heart at the knowledge her powers were gone. They had become a part of her. Her eyesight was different now, normal perhaps, but it had been such a long time since she had looked at the world without the slight overlay of weather energy over her sight. Pressing her head to the door harder, she could now hear footsteps moving toward her door.
Two people were walking. She could make out the difference in their strides as they moved. Their conversation, what she heard, went like this:
“Each subject has been cataloged. Most of them show signs of usefulness.”
“Usefulness?”
“Yes. We have one with a healing factor similar to the previous survivor. As well as one who appears to be able to manipulate weather patterns. Then there is the werewolf…”
“Werewolf?”
They were getting too far away, but Storm began to draw conclusions immediately. Black Dog she’d been in close contact with and he was the closest thing she could think of to a werewolf. Who the other person was they were talking about she couldn’t be sure, but Laura, Wolverine’s little girl had been missing when they’d gone into that supposedly abandoned facility. Drawing away from the door, she moved back across the room to her cot and sat down.
“Usefulness for what?” she wondered aloud. There was no one else close that she could tell. Looking up, she marked the camera in the corner and thought seriously about giving it the finger, but what good would it do? She needed to find a way out before whatever use they were holding them for became apparent. Again, she went to the door, putting her hand against it. Feeling around the handle and taking a look at the lock. It wasn’t the kind one could pick from the inside, but it was possible to jam it from there. The only problem being, she needed to get out of the room first.
There was a food slot in the door; undoubtedly there for feeding purposes. Once again, Storm looked around, checking to see what else there was in the room. Other than the cot, the toilet, the sink, and a mirror there was nothing personal about the place. It was sterile, cold to her spirit. There was no window. Storm longed for a window immediately upon becoming aware of its absence. Seeing the sky would not make it easier to bear being in captivity, but it would make it easier for her to tell when her powers were starting to come back. Storm knew she was going to need every advantage to get out of this place. Her skills as a thief would be useful, but she would need more than just those in order to get the others out.
There was no way she would leave them behind. X-men or not, Nik had once been a member of the Haven. No one deserved to be kept like an animal. Sitting down once again, she brought her legs up into a cross legged position and closed her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, she made herself think calmly and clearly. Planning took time and patience. Storm understood the use of both.