That confident, are you, Legion? Alright then. /she grins widely
I’m kind of a gambler. I’m in.
Excellent. Who are you betting on, Surge?
It was when she was reading a book on quantum mechanics that it came to her. Like a little seed of gold. An idea. Dare she say? A revelation.
There had been a quandary about probability (the nature of which may or may not be truly useful, considering the universe’s natural tendency to chaos, entropy, destruction, etc…) in which a bookie was used to describe the idea of global consciousness, the way it calculates odds and, thereby, perhaps sways them by his own hand. However improbably it seemed, there was some evidence suggesting that this was, in way, a very valid idea that— oh, right. The revelation.
"What if … what if we took bets?" She looked up, around the common room, trying to get an idea of whether or not anybody heard her. She said, almost conspiratorially, to the air around her, "No, seriously, I wonder if we could … you know, bet on who can get more. I’m thinking … Peter versus Legion."
It was, perhaps, the worst idea she had ever had. Nonetheless.
Ooc: My skype is zraura if you’re interested. C: (and I haven’t forgotten our roleplay, I swear. ;-;)
[[C’est bon, bbs. C: We all get busy, that’s for sure. Just like, tag me in the post whenever you reply. I’m trying really hard to remember to do that with all of my rps and I think it’s one of the best ideas ever. ALAS I AM SOMEWHAT LAZY. BUT THAT IS OKAY.]]
[[I’d really like to start collecting like, skype addresses and shit. I mean, I guess ask box is fine and all, but I’d love to start organizing some new threads and that is, personally, my favorite way to do so. C: Mine is delirium.tea You should come add me.]]
[[So it’s nothing special, but my rendition of Pann. Sleeping, of course, because she never actually does that, IC. Just thinks about it. Maybe if she projects hard enough she’ll beat the insomnia, right? Also, under a cut to reduce my level of embarrassment.]]
Surge pursed her lips and shoved Peter, breaking his contact and throwing him slightly off-balance. She punched his arm, but not too hard. “Shove off,” she said. “And you too, Pann. I thought you were nice.”
Just as soon as she could breathe again, Pann realized her mistake and felt the reproach beating down on her like the heat of a summer sunrise.
"I am," she said, still recovering, still a little breathless, "so sorry. That was really quite rude of me." She scratched the back of her head. "Honestly, I don’t know what came over me."
She reached a hand out to Anguis and said, “I get so single-minded sometimes. I’ll do whatever I can to try and thwart Peter’s quest for … the ladies. Really. I’m sorry. It’s a lovely name. Anguis. And I know I didn’t introduce myself properly. I’m Pann. I am usually much nicer than this. Really, it’s all Peter’s fault. Blame him.”
Her skinny, forked tongue actuated back into her mouth. The yellow eyes fading back into a light brown. She snarled her lip and took the pen. “Seriously?” she asked, addressing her name onto his arm.
He brought up his hand with Jade’s name on it, briefly showing it to Evelyn, his arm still wrapped around her, a small smile escaping his lips. He looked at it again simply saying,”Like the steak?”
Pann sidled up to the small group of mutants. She was familiar with them, of course — well, all except for one. This new girl with the … the … the tongue. Best not to dwell on that she told herself.
She noticed, then, in not dwelling on it, that Peter had his arm outstretched. Flexing it, of course. She could barely restrain an eye-roll. In favor of it, she looked down at her feet and said, off-handedly to Surge, “Oh, he has such a way with them, doesn’t he? And even after all of these years.”
And then he said it. The thing. Looking down at his arm he accused the snake girl of being …. a steak girl.
She kicked up some dust and was taken fully by the urge to roll her eyes, while also attempting to avoid exploding like a faulty time bomb of laughter. “As I understand it, he’s had them in flocks. A wonder what happened to that, isn’t it?” Tick, tick, tick, BOOM.
This must have been the reason the woods had been chosen as a base. This solitude that surrounded their little community. (So, most likely it was not, in fact, the reason why Magneto had selected this particular location, but that mattered little, especially not to Pann’s more Romantic sensebilities.) Even if there was the music of a hundred sleeping bodies — a chorus of breath and the steady bass of old wood creaking when they turned — out here were countless measures of rest. Even if some voices still went off like alarms in the night — like little ones not yet in bed or older ones who resisted it in favor of … more lively pursuits — out here there were no sirens.
Even Pann’s feet carried an inaudible tread. She wanted for nothing. She had all she really needed. So she was a little cold, yes, but that was only because she was never really warm. So her feet ached a little but what did that matter? She could feel the earth beneath them. Even the musky air was more than she could have wished for.
And that was the funny thing. People assumed, because she was an illusionist, that Pann’s powers were almost unlimited. Just because she could fool someone into thinking that they were being accosted by a giant purple elephant or make them feel as if they were drowning that she could produce any other situation or sensation with little to no effort. Once a boy had asked her why she didn’t just live in her illusions. She looked at him curiously and asked him why he didn’t eat the same things over and over every day. “For the most part,” she had said, “the world produces things that I may not have been able to construct on my own. It gives me new flavors to taste and new sights to see. If I didn’t observe the world as I do, I wouldn’t be able to build new fantasies. I would have to recycle the old ones over and over.”
So she observed. She walked a little further, until the feel of the earth through her feet was almost to much to bear (read: they hurt like a bitch and she could take no more), and simply sat, just a few yards away from one of the cabins.
The world in its own beauty was always better than an illusion and — sometimes — even more unbelievable. Marvelous indeed.
[[Aaaahaha shit is there anything open going on? I’m shit out of RP it would seem.
Maybe I’ll just go fly the jet around some more?]]
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell slightly agape; Blanche never thought she’d make a friend so quickly, let alone a friend who was willing to let her room with her until she found her feet.
She grinned and was about to cheerfully except until she thought that maybe she was being a burden to Pann, seeing as she already had someone rooming with her. “I’d love to room with you but- I feel like I’m imposing on you, haha..” She crosses her arms behind her back and asked, “Are you sure your roommate would be okay with my staying with you?”
Pann crossed her arms and gave only a greater smile in return. “Of course I am. Patch is … well, Patch. If you’ve met her, you’ll understand what I mean.” It felt good to see someone happy and knowing that she had done something to help that along, well, that was just about the biggest bonus she could have hoped for.
"Come on, now. Let’s grab your things and go up. I’m sure Patch will be ecstatic, or at the very least excited enough to make eye contact despite the shyness." She loosened and gestured to Blanche in acknowledgement.