[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=00aeef] Alannah Ó Ceallaigh[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img] https://media.giphy.com/media/I157CHX1GtR9C/giphy.gif [/img][/center]
[/center][hr][center][color=00aeef][b]Location:[/b][/color] X-Factor Briefing Area[/center][hr]

This was a nightmare. She'd thought that something was actually, finally about to happen, that she'd get a chance to prove that she wasn't just a curiosity, the slow girl who didn't speak the language, and they were going to have her stand around and get gawked at by a bunch of future people? They all started talking about people she didn't know, Pym or Stark or whoever, because [i]of course.[/i] People were always talking about things and people and places she didn't know about. The tips of her fingers starting itching, forming into claws without her bidding. Belladonna stormed out, and Alannah would have been lying if she said she wasn't tempted to join her. She raked her claws against the wall behind her with a wrenching, scraping sound, like they were skirling off of armor.

Alannah bit down on her lip and forced the claws to retract. This would not do. She was not a petulant little girl, she was a warrior, and she owed these people at Serval a debt. If this was the battle they needed her to fight, then she'd make a spirited effort to endure it. And who knows; she hadn't been to any parties in this new world, but in her time you couldn't have a wedding or a victory feast without someone getting drunk and weapons coming out. Maybe this would be like that. She folded her arms and leaned back against the wall. Evelyn, ever the voice of practicality, was asking for information on the guests - Alannah would try to be like that.[color=00aeef]"You say there are powerful indi... ind... people,"[/color] she said, gritting her teeth at the flaws in her English. [color=00aeef]"Powerful like us? How many? How many warriors among them? Will there be rival clans? Is a fight likely to start?" [/color] She couldn't quite keep the irritation out of her voice.